Chapter XXXI (2)

This talented pianist gratified his admirers by a performance
on Wednesday evening in the Hopetoun Rooms, where a select and
highly fashionable audience assembled to welcome him on his
first appearance in Edinburgh...Chopin's compositions have
been too long before the musical portion of Europe, and have
been too highly appreciated to require any comment, further
than that they are among the best specimens of classical
excellence in pianoforte music. Of his execution we need say
nothing further than that it is the most finished we have ever
heard. He has neither the ponderosity nor the digital power of
a Mendelssohn, a Thalberg, or Liszt; consequently his
execution would appear less effective in a large room; but as
a chamber pianist he stands unrivalled. Notwithstanding the
amount of musical entertainment already afforded the Edinburgh
public this season, the rooms were filled with an audience
who, by their judicious and well-timed applause, testified
their appreciation of the high talent of Monsieur Chopin.

An Edinburgh correspondent of the Musical World, who signs himself "M.," confirms (October 14, 1848) the statements of the critic of the Courant. From this communication we learn that one of the etudes played was in F minor (probably No. 2 of Op. 25, although there are two others in the same key--No. 9 of Op. 10 and No. 1 of Trois Etudes without opus number). The problematical Andante precede d'un Largo was, no doubt, a juxtaposition of two of his shorter compositions, this title being chosen to vary the programme. From Mr. Hipkins I learned that at this Chopin played frequently the slow movement from his Op. 22, Grande Polonaise preceded d'un Andante Spianato.

And now we will let Chopin again speak for himself.

Chopin to Grzymala; Keir, Perthshire, Sunday, October 1, 1848:--

No post, no railway, also no carriage (not even for taking the
air), no boat, not a dog to be seen--all desolate, desolate!
My dearest friend,--Just at the moment when I had already
begun to write to you on another sheet, your and my sister's
letters were brought to me. Heaven be thanked that cholera has
hitherto spared them. But why do you not write a word about
yourself? and yet to you corresponding is much easier than to
me; for I have been writing to you daily for a whole week
already--namely, since my return from northern Scotland
(Strachur [FOOTNOTE: A small town, eight miles south of
Inveraray, in Argyleshire.])--without getting done. I know,
indeed, that you have an invalid in Versailles; for Rozaria
[FOOTNOTE: Mdlle. de Rozieres.] wrote to me that you had paid
her a visit, and then in great haste had gone to an invalid in
Versailles. I hope it is not your grandfather or grandchild,
or one of your dear neighbours, the Rochanskis. Here one hears
as yet nothing of cholera, but in London it appears already
here and there.

With your letter, which I received at Johnstone Castle, and in
which you informed me that you had been with Soli [FOOTNOTE: I
suppose Solange, Madame Clesinger, George Sand's daughter.] at
the Gymnase Theatre, there came at the same time one from
Edinburgh, from Prince Alexander Czartoryski, with the news
that he and his wife had arrived, and that he would be very
glad to see me. Although tired, I at once took the train and
found them still in Edinburgh. Princess Marcelline was as kind
as she always is to me. The intercourse with them reanimated
me, and gave me strength to play in Glasgow, where the whole
haute volee had gathered for my concert. The weather was
magnificent, and the princely family had even come from
Edinburgh with little Marcel, who is growing nicely, and sings
already my compositions, yes, and even corrects when he hears
someone making mistakes. It was on Wednesday afternoon, at 3
o'clock, and the princely couple did me the kindness to accept
along with me an invitation to a dinner at Johnstone Castle
(by the way, twelve English miles from Glasgow) after the
concert; in this way, then, I passed the whole day with them.
Lord and Lady Murray and the old Lord Torphichen (who had come
a distance of a hundred miles) drove also thither with us, and
the next day all were quite charmed with the amiability of
Princess Marcelline. The princely pair returned to Glasgow,
whence, after a visit to Loch Tamen, [FOOTNOTE: There is no
such loch. Could it possibly be Loch Lomond? Loch Leven seems
to me less likely.] they wished to go back at once to London,
and thence to the Continent. The Prince spoke of you with
sincere kindness. I can very well imagine what your noble soul
must suffer when you see what is now going on in Paris. You
cannot think how I revived, how lively I became that day in
the society of such dear countrymen; but to-day I am again
very depressed. O, this mist! Although, from the window at
which I write, I have before me the most beautiful view of
Stirling Castle--it is the same, as you will remember, which
delighted Robert Bruce--and mountains, lochs, a charming park,
in one word, the view most celebrated for its beauty in
Scotland; I see nothing, except now and then, when the mist
gives way to the sun. The owner of this mansion, whose name is
Stirling, is the uncle of our Scotch ladies, and the head of
the family. I made his acquaintance in London; he is a rich
bachelor, and has a very beautiful picture-gallery, which is
especially distinguished by works of Murillo and other Spanish
masters. He has lately even published a very interesting book
on the Spanish school; he has travelled much (visited also the
East), and is a very intelligent man. All Englishmen of note
who come to Scotland go to him; he has always an open house,
so that there are daily on an average about thirty people at
dinner with him. In this way one has opportunities of seeing
the most different English beauties; lately there was, for
instance, for some days a Mrs. Boston here, but she is already
gone. As to dukes, earls, and lords, one now sees here more of
them than ever, because the Queen has sojourned in Scotland.
Yesterday she passed close by us by rail, as she had to be at
a certain time in London, and there was such a fog on the sea
that she preferred to return from Aberdeen to London by land,
and not (as she had come) by boat--to the great regret of the
navy, which had prepared various festivities for her. It is
said that her consort, Prince Albert, was very much pleased at
this, as he becomes always sea-sick on board, while the Queen,
like a true ruler of the sea, is not inconvenienced by a
voyage. I shall soon have forgotten Polish, speak French like
an Englishman, and English like a Scotchman--in short, like
Jawurek, jumble together five languages. If I do not write to
you a Jeremiad, it is not because you cannot comfort me, but
because you are the only one who knows everything; and if I
once begin to complain, there will be no end to it, and it
will always be in the same key. But it is incorrect when I
say: "always in the same key," for things are getting worse
with me every day. I feel weaker; I cannot compose, not for
want of inclination, but for physical reasons, and because I
am every week in a different place. But what shall I do? At
least, I shall save something for the winter. Invitations I
have in plenty, and cannot even go where I should like, for
instance, to the Duchess of Argyll and Lady Belhaven, as the
season is already too far advanced and too dangerous for my
enfeebled health. I am all the morning unable to do anything,
and when I have dressed myself I feel again so fatigued that I
must rest. After dinner I must sit two hours with the
gentlemen, hear what they say, and see how much they drink.
Meanwhile I feel bored to death. I think of something totally
different, and then go to the drawing-room, where I require
all my strength to revive, for all are anxious to hear me.
Afterwards my good Daniel carries me upstairs to my bedroom,
undresses me, puts me to bed, leaves the candle burning, and
then I am again at liberty to sigh and to dream until morning,
to pass the next day just like the preceding one. When I have
settled down in some measure, I must continue my travels, for
my Scotch ladies do not allow me--to be sure with the best
intentions in the world--any rest. They fetch me to introduce
me to all their relations; they will at last kill me with
their kindness, and I must bear it all out of pure amiability.--

Your

FREDERICK.

Chopin to Gutmann; Calder House, October 16, 1848 (twelve miles from Edinburgh):--

Very dear friend,--What are you doing? How are your people,
your country, your art? you are unjustly severe upon me, for
you know my infirmity in the matter of letter-writing. I have
thought of you much, and on reading the other day that there
was a disturbance at Heidelberg, I tried some thirty rough
draughts [brouillons] in order to send you a line, the end of
them all being to be thrown into the fire. This page will
perhaps reach you and find you happy with your good mother.
Since I had news from you, I have been in Scotland, in this
beautiful country of Walter Scott, with so many memories of
Mary Stuart, the two Charleses, &c. I drag myself from one
lord to another, from one duke to another. I find everywhere,
besides extreme kindness and hospitality without limit,
excellent pianos, beautiful pictures, choice libraries; there
are also hunts, horses, dogs, interminable dinners, and
cellars of which I avail myself less. It is impossible to form
an idea of all the elaborate comfort which reigns in the
English mansions. The Queen having passed this year some weeks
in Scotland, all England followed her, partly out of courtesy,
partly because of the impossibility of going to the disturbed
Continent. Everything here has become doubly splendid, except
the sun, which has done nothing more than usual; moreover, the
winter advances, and I do not know yet what will become of me.
I am writing to you from Lord Torphichen's. In this mansion,
above my apartment, John Knox, the Scotch reformer, dispensed
for the first time the Sacrament. Everything here furnishes
matter for the imagination--a park with hundred-year-old
trees, precipices, walls of the castle in ruins, endless
passages with numberless old ancestors--there is even a
certain Red-cowl which walks there at midnight. I walk there
my incertitude. [II y a meme un certain bonnet rouge, qui s'y
promene a minuit. J'y promene mon incertitude.]

Cholera is coming; there is fog and spleen in London, and no
president in Paris. It does not matter where I go to cough and
suffocate, I shall always love you. Present my respects to
your mother, and all my wishes for the happiness of you all.
Write me a line to the address: Dr. Lishinsky, [FOOTNOTE: The
letter I shall next place before the reader is addressed by
Chopin to "Dr. Lishinski." In an Edinburgh medical directory
the name appeared as Lyszynski.] 10, Warriston Crescent,
Edinburgh, Scotland.--Yours, with all my heart,

CHOPIN.

P.S.--I have played in Edinburgh; the nobility of the
neighbourhood came to hear me; people say the thing went off
well--a little success and money. There were this year in
Scotland Lind, Grisi, Alboni, Mario, Salvi--everybody.

From Chopin's letters may be gathered that he arrived once more in London at the end of October or beginning of November.

Chopin to Dr. Lyschinski; London, November 3, 1848:--

I received yesterday your kind words with the letter from
Heidelberg. I am as perplexed here as when I was with you, and
have the same love in my heart for you as when I was with you.
My respects to your wife and your neighbours. May God bless
you!

I embrace you cordially. I have seen the Princess
[Czartoryska]; they were inquiring about you most kindly.

My present abode is 4, St. James's Place. If anything should
come for me, please send it to that address.

3rd November, 1848.

Pray send the enclosed note to Miss Stirling, who, no doubt,
is still at Barnton.

[FOOTNOTE: In this case, as when writing to Woyciechowski,
Matuszynski, Fontana, Franchomme and Gutmann, Chopin uses in
addressing his correspondent, the pronoun of the second person
singular. Here I may also mention the curious monogram on his
seal: three C's in the form of horns (with mouthpieces and
bells) intertwined.]

The following letter shows in what state of mind and body Chopin was at the time.

Chopin to Grzymala; London, October [should be November] 17-18, 1848:--

My dearest friend,--For the last eighteen days, that is, since
my arrival in London, I have been ill, and had such a severe
cold in my head (with headache, difficult breathing, and all
my bad symptoms) that I did not get out of doors at all. The
physician visits me daily (a homoeopathist of the name of
Mallan, the same whom my Scotch ladies have and who has here a
great reputation, and is married to a niece of Lady
Gainsborough). He has succeeded in restoring me so far that
yesterday I was able to take part in the Polish Concert and
Ball; I went, however, at once home, after I had gone through
my task. The whole night I could not sleep, as I suffered,
besides cough and asthma, from very violent headache. As yet
the mist has not been very bad, so that, in order to breathe a
little fresh air, I can open the windows of my apartments
notwithstanding the keen cold. I live at No. 4, St. James's
Street, see almost every day the excellent Szulczewski,
Broadwood, Mrs. Erskine, who followed me hither with Mr.
Stirling, and especially Prince Alexander [Czartoryski] and
his wife.

[FOOTNOTE: Charles Francis Szulczewski, son of Charles
Szulczewski, Receiver General for the District of Orlow, born
on January 18, 1814, was educated at the Military School at
Kalisz, served during the War of 1831 in the Corps of
Artillery under General Bem, obtained the Cross of Honour
(virtuti militari) for distinguishing himself at Ostrolenka,
passed the first years of his refugee life in France, and in
1842 took up his residence in London, where, in 1845, he
became Secretary of the Literary Association of the Friends of
Poland. He was promoted for his services to the rank of Major
in the Polish Legion, which was formed in Turkey under the
command of Ladislas Zamoyski, and after the treaty of Paris
(1856) the English Government appointed him to a post in the
War Office. Major Szulczewski, who died on October 18, 1884,
was an ardent patriot, highly esteemed not only by his
countrymen, but also by all others who came in contact with
him, numbering among his friends the late Lord Dudley Stuart
and the late Earl of Harrowby.]

Address your letters, please, to Szulczewski. I cannot yet
come to Paris, but I am always considering what is to be done
to return there. Here in these apartments, which for any
healthy man would be good, I cannot remain, although they are
beautifully situated and not dear (four and a half guineas a
week, inclusive of bed, coals, &c.); they are near Lord
Stuart's, [FOOTNOTE: Lord Dudley Cuotts Stuart, a staunch and
generous friend of the Poles.] who has just left me. This
worthy gentleman came to inquire how I felt after last night's
concert. Probably I shall take up my quarters with him,
because he has much larger rooms, in which I can breathe more
freely. En tout cas--inquire, please, whether there are not
somewhere on the Boulevard, in the neighbourhood of the Rue de
la Paix or Rue Royale, apartments to be had on the first etage
with windows towards the south; or, for aught I care, in the
Rue des Mathurin, but not in the Rue Godot or other gloomy,
narrow streets; at any rate, there must be included a room for
the servant. Perhaps Franck's old quarters, which were above
mine, at the excellent Madame Etienne's, in the Square No. 9
(Cite d'Orleans), are unoccupied; for I know from experience
that I cannot keep on my old ones during the winter. If there
were only on the same story a room for the servant, I should
go again and live with Madame Etienne, but I should not like
to let my Daniel go away, as, should I at any time wish or be
able to return to England, he will be acquainted with
everything.

Why I bother you with all this I don't know myself; but I must
think of myself, and, therefore, I beg of you, assist me in
this. I have never cursed anyone, but now I am so weary of
life that I am near cursing Lucrezia! [FOOTNOTE: George Sand.
This allusion after what has been said in a previous chapter
about her novel Lucrezia Floriani needs no further
explanation.] But she suffers too, and suffers more because
she grows daily older in wickedness. What a pity about Soli!
[FOOTNOTE: I suppose Solange, Madame Clesinger, George Sand's
daughter.] Alas! everything is going wrong in this world.
Think only that Arago with the eagle on his breast now
represents France!!! Louis Blanc attracts here nobody's
attention. The deputation of the national guard drove
Caussidier out of the Hotel de la Sablonniere (Leicester
Square) from the table d'hote with the exclamation: "Vous
n'etes pas francais!"

Should you find apartments, let me know at once; but do not
give up the old ones till then.--Your

FREDERICK.

The Polish Ball and Concert alluded to in the above letter deserves our attention, for on that occasion Chopin was heard for the last time in public, indeed, his performance there may be truly called the swan's song.

The following is an advertisement which appeared in the DAILY NEWS of November 1, 1848:--

Grand Polish Ball and Concert at Guildhall, under Royal and
distinguished patronage, and on a scale of more than usual
magnificence, will take place on Thursday, the 16th of
November, by permission of the Lord Mayor and Corporation of
the City of London; particulars of which will be shortly
announced to the public.

JAMES R. CARR, HONORARY SECRETARY.

The information given in this advertisement is supplemented in one of November 15:--

The magnificent decorations used on the Lord Mayor's day are,
by permission, preserved. The concert will comprise the most
eminent vocalists. Tickets (refreshments included), for a lady
and gentleman, 21/-; for a gentleman, 15/-; for a lady, 10/6;
to be had of, &c.

On the 17th of November the TIMES had, of course, an account of the festivity of the preceding night:--

The patrons and patronesses of this annual or rather perennial
demonstration in favour of foreign claims on domestic charity
assembled last night at Guildhall much in the same way as they
assembled last year and on previous occasions, though
certainly not in such numbers, nor in such quality as some
years ago. The great hall was illuminated and decorated as at
the Lord Mayor's banquet. The appearance was brilliant without
being particularly lively.

Then the dancing, Mr. Adams' excellent band, the refreshment rooms, a few noble Lords, the Lord Mayor, and some of the civic authorities (who "diversified the plain misters and mistresses who formed the majority"), the gay costumes of some Highlanders and Spaniards, and Lord Dudley (the great lion of the evening)--all these are mentioned, but there is not a word about Chopin. Of the concert we read only that it "was much the same as on former anniversaries, and at its conclusion many of the company departed." We learn, moreover, that the net profit was estimated at less than on former occasions.

The concert for which Chopin, prompted by his patriotism and persuaded by his friends, lent his assistance, was evidently a subordinate part of the proceedings in which few took any interest. The newspapers either do not notice it at all or but very briefly; in any case the great pianist-composer is ignored. Consequently, very little information is now to be obtained about this matter. Mr. Lindsay Sloper remembered that Chopin played among other things the "Etudes" in A flat and F minor (Op. 25, Nos. 1 & 2). But the best account we have of the concert are some remarks of one present at it which Mr. Hueffer quotes in his essay on Chopin in "Musical Studies":--

The people, hot from dancing, who went into the room where he
played, were but little in the humour to pay attention, and
anxious to return to their amusement. He was in the last stage
of exhaustion, and the affair resulted in disappointment. His
playing at such a place was a well-intentioned mistake.

What a sad conclusion to a noble artistic career!

Although Chopin was longing for Paris in November, he was still in London in the following January.

Chopin to Grzymaia; London, Tuesday, January, 1849:--

My dearest friend,--To-day I am again lying almost the whole
day, but Thursday I shall leave the to me unbearable London.
The night from Thursday to Friday I shall remain at Boulogne,
and, I hope, go to bed on Friday night in the Place d'Orleans.
To other ailments is now added neuralgia. Please see that the
sheets and pillows are quite dry and cause fir-nuts to be
bought; Madame Etienne is not to spare anything, so that I may
warm myself when I arrive. I have written to Drozewski that he
is to provide carpets and curtains. I shall pay the paper-
hanger Perrichon at once after my arrival. Tell Pleyel to send
me a piano on Thursday; let it be closed and a nosegay of
violets be bought, so that there may be a nice fragrance in
the salon. I should like to find a little poesy in my rooms
and in my bedroom, where I in all probability shall lie down
for a long time.

Friday evening, then, I expect to be in Paris; a day longer
here, and I shall go mad or die! My Scotch ladies are good,
but so tedious that--God have mercy on us! They have so
attached themselves to me that I cannot easily get rid of
them; only Princess Marcelline [Czartoryska] and her family,
and the excellent Szulczewski keep me alive. Have fires
lighted in all rooms and the dust removed--perhaps I may yet
recover.--Yours ever,

FREDERICK.

Mr. Niedzwiecki told me that he travelled with Chopin, who was accompanied by his servant, from London to Paris.

[FOOTNOTE: Leonard Niedzwiecki, born in the Kingdom of Poland in 1807, joined the National Army in 1830, distinguished himself on several battlefields, came in 1832 as a refugee to England, made there a livelihood by literary work and acted as honorary librarian of the Literary Association of the friends of Poland, left about 1845 London for Paris and became Private Secretary, first to General Count Ladislas Zamoyski, and after the Count's death to the widowed Countess. M. Niedzwiecki, who is also librarian of the Polish Library at Paris, now devotes all his time to historical and philological research.]

The three had a compartment to themselves. During the journey the invalid suffered greatly from frequent attacks of breathlessness. Chopin was delighted when he saw Boulogne. How hateful England and the English were to him is shown by the following anecdote. When they had left Boulogne and Chopin had been for some time looking at the landscape through which they were passing, he said to Mr. Niedzwiecki: "Do you see the cattle in this meadow? Ca a plus d'intelligence que les Anglais." Let us not be wroth at poor Chopin: he was then irritated by his troubles, and always anything but a cosmopolitan.