1839-1842.
RETURN OF GEORGE SAND AND CHOPIN TO PARIS.--GEORGE SAND IN THE RUE
PIGALLE.--CHOPIN IN THE RUE TRONCHET: REMINISCENCES OF BRINLEY RICHARDS
AND MOSCHELES.--SOIREES AT LEO'S AND ST. CLOUD.--CHOPIN JOINS MADAME
SAND IN THE RUE PIGALLE.--EXTRACTS FROM GEORGE SAND'S CORRESPONDANCE;
A LETTER OF MADAME SAND'S TO CHOPIN; BALZAC ANECDOTES.--MADAME SAND AND
CHOPIN DO NOT GO TO NOHANT IN 1840.--COMPOSITIONS OF THIS PERIOD.--ABOUT
CHOPIN AS A PIANIST.--LETTERS WRITTEN TO FONTANA IN THE SUMMER AND
AUTUMN OF 1841.
Although Chopin and George Sand came to Paris towards the end of
October, 1839, months passed before the latter got into the house which
Fontana had taken for her. This we learn from a letter written by her
to her friend Gustave Papet, and dated Paris, January, 1840, wherein we
read:--
At last I am installed in the Rue Pigalle, 16, only since the
last two days, after having fumed, raged, stormed, and sworn
at the upholsterers, locksmith, &c., &c. What a long,
horrible, unbearable business it is to lodge one's self here!
[FOOTNOTE: In the letter, dated Paris, October, 1839,
preceding, in the George Sand "Correspondance," the one from
which the above passage is extracted, occur the following
words: "Je suis enfin installee chez moi a Paris." Where this
chez moi was, I do not know.]
How greatly the interiors of George Sand's pavilions in the Rue
Pigalle differed from those of Senor Gomez's villa and the cells in the
monastery of Valdemosa, may be gathered from Gutmann's description of
two of the apartments.
[FOOTNOTE: I do not guarantee the correctness of all the following
details, although I found them in a sketch of Gutmann's life inspired by
himself ("Der Lieblings-schuler Chopin's", No. 3 of "Schone Geister,"
by Bernhard Stavenow, Bremen, 1879), and which he assured me was
trustworthy. The reasons of my scepticism are--1, Gutmann's imaginative
memory and tendency to show himself off to advantage; 2, Stavenow's love
of fine writing and a good story; 3, innumerable misstatements that can
be indisputably proved by documents.]
Regarding the small salon, he gives only the general information that it
was quaintly fitted up with antique furniture. But of George Sand's
own room, which made a deeper impression upon him, he mentions so many
particulars--the brown carpet covering the whole floor, the walls hung
with a dark-brown ribbed cloth (Ripsstoff), the fine paintings, the
carved furniture of dark oak, the brown velvet seats of the chairs, the
large square bed, rising but little above the floor, and covered with
a Persian rug (Teppich)--that it is easy to picture to ourselves the
tout-ensemble of its appearance. Gutmann tells us that he had an early
opportunity of making these observations, for Chopin visited his pupil
the very day after his arrival (?), and invited him at once to call on
George Sand in order to be introduced to her. When Gutmann presented
himself in the small salon above alluded to, he found George Sand seated
on an ottoman smoking a cigarette. She received the young man with great
cordiality, telling him that his master had often spoken to her of him
most lovingly. Chopin entered soon after from an adjoining apartment,
and then they all went into the dining-room to have dinner. When they
were seated again in the cosy salon, and George Sand had lit another
cigarette, the conversation, which had touched on a variety of topics,
among the rest on Majorca, turned on art. It was then that the authoress
said to her friend: "Chop, Chop, show Gutmann my room that he may see
the pictures which Eugene Delacroix painted for me."
Chopin on arriving in Paris had taken up his lodgings in the Rue
Tronchet, No. 5, and resumed teaching. One of his pupils there was
Brinley Richards, who practised under him one of the books of studies.
Chopin also assisted the British musician in the publication, by
Troupenas, of his first composition, having previously looked over
and corrected it. Brinley Richards informed me that Chopin, who played
rarely in these lessons, making his corrections and suggestions rather
by word of mouth than by example, was very languid, indeed so much so
that he looked as if he felt inclined to lie down, and seemed to say: "I
wish you would come another time."
About this time, that is in the autumn or early in the winter of 1839,
Moscheles came to Paris. We learn from his diary that at Leo's, where
he liked best to play, he met for the first time Chopin, who had just
returned from the country, and whose acquaintance he was impatient
to make. I have already quoted what Moscheles said of Chopin's
appearance--namely, that it was exactly like [identificirt mit] his
music, both being delicate and dreamy [schwarmerisch]. His remarks on
his great contemporary's musical performances are, of course, still more
interesting to us.
He played to me at my request, and now for the first time I
understand his music, and can also explain to myself the
enthusiasm of the ladies. His ad libitum playing, which with
the interpreters of his music degenerates into disregard of
time, is with him only the most charming originality of
execution; the dilettantish harsh modulations which strike me
disagreeably when I am playing his compositions no longer
shock me, because he glides lightly over them in a fairy-like
way with his delicate fingers; his piano is so softly breathed
forth that he does not need any strong forte in order to
produce the wished-for contrasts; it is for this reason that
one does not miss the orchestral-like effects which the German
school demands from a pianoforte-player, but allows one's self
to be carried away, as by a singer who, little concerned about
the accompaniment, entirely follows his feeling. In short, he
is an unicum in the world of pianists. He declares that he
loves my music very much, and at all events he knows it very
well. He played me some studies and his latest work, the
"Preludes," and I played him many of my compositions.
In addition to this characterisation of the artist Chopin, Moscheles'
notes afford us also some glimpses of the man. "Chopin was lively,
merry, nay, exceedingly comical in his imitations of Pixis, Liszt, and a
hunchbacked pianoforte-player." Some days afterwards, when Moscheles saw
him at his own house, he found him an altogether different Chopin:--
I called on him according to agreement with Ch. and E., who
are also quite enthusiastic about him, and who were
particularly struck with the "Prelude" in A flat major in 6/8
time with the ever-recurring pedal A flat. Only the Countess
O. [Obreskoff] from St. Petersburg, who adores us artists en
bloc, was there, and some gentlemen. Chopin's excellent pupil
Gutmann played his master's manuscript Scherzo in C sharp
minor. Chopin himself played his manuscript Sonata in B flat
minor with the Funeral March.
Gutmann relates that Chopin sent for him early in the morning of the
day following that on which he paid the above-mentioned visit to George
Sand, and said to him:--
Pardon me for disturbing you so early in the morning, but I
have just received a note from Moscheles, wherein he expresses
his joy at my return to Paris, and announces that he will
visit me at five in the afternoon to hear my new compositions.
Now I am unfortunately too weak to play my things to him; so
you must play. I am chiefly concerned about this Scherzo.
Gutmann, who did not yet know the work (Op. 39), thereupon sat down at
Chopin's piano, and by dint of hard practising managed to play it at
the appointed hour from memory, and to the satisfaction of the composer.
Gutmann's account does not tally in several of its details with
Moscheles'. As, however, Moscheles does not give us reminiscences, but
sober, business-like notes taken down at the time they refer to, and
without any attempt at making a nice story, he is the safer authority.
Still, thus much at least we may assume to be certain:--Gutmann played
the Scherzo, Op. 39, on this occasion, and his rendering of it was such
as to induce his master to dedicate it to him.
Comte de Perthuis, the adjutant of King Louis Philippe, who had heard
Chopin and Moscheles repeatedly play the latter's Sonata in E flat major
for four hands, spoke so much and so enthusiastically about it at Court
that the royal family, wishing "to have also the great treat," invited
the two artists to come to St. Cloud. The day after this soiree
Moscheles wrote in his diary:--
Yesterday was a memorable day... at nine o'clock Chopin and I,
with Perthuis and his amiable wife, who had called for us,
drove out to St. Cloud in the heaviest showers of rain, and
felt so much the more comfortable when we entered the
brilliant, well-lighted palace. We passed through many state-
rooms into a salon carre, where the royal family was assembled
en petit comite. At a round table sat the queen with an
elegant work-basket before her (perhaps to embroider a purse
for me?); near her were Madame Adelaide, the Duchess of
Orleans, and ladies-in-waiting. The noble ladies were as
affable as if we had been old acquaintances...Chopin played
first a number of nocturnes and studies, and was admired and
petted like a favourite. After I also had played some old and
new studies, and been honoured with the same applause, we
seated ourselves together at the instrument--he again playing
the bass, which he always insists on doing. The close
attention of the little circle during my E flat major Sonata
was interrupted only by the exclamations "divine!"
"delicious!" After the Andante the queen whispered to a lady-
in-waiting: "Would it not be indiscreet to ask them to play it
again?" which naturally was equivalent to a command to repeat
it, and so we played it again with increased abandon. In the
Finale we gave ourselves up to a musical delirium. Chopin's
enthusiasm throughout the whole piece must, I believe, have
infected the auditors, who now burst forth into eulogies of
us. Chopin played again alone with the same charm, and called
forth the same sympathy as before; then I improvised...
[FOOTNOTE: In the "Neue Zeitschrift fur Musik" of November 12,
1839, we read that Chopin improvised on Grisar's "La Folle,"
Moscheles on themes by Mozart. La Folle is a romance the
success of which was so great that a wit called it une folie
de salon. It had for some years an extraordinary popularity,
and made the composer a reputation.]
To show his gratitude, the king sent the two artists valuable presents:
to Chopin a gold cup and saucer, to Moscheles a travelling case. "The
king," remarked Chopin, "gave Moscheles a travelling case to get the
sooner rid of him." The composer was fond of and had a talent for
throwing off sharp and witty sayings; but it is most probable that on
this occasion the words were prompted solely by the fancy, and that
their ill-nature was only apparent. Or must we assume that the man
Moscheles was less congenial to Chopin than the artist? Moscheles was a
Jew, and Chopin disliked the Jews. As, however, the tempting opportunity
afforded by the nature of the king's present to Moscheles is sufficient
to account for Chopin's remark, and no proofs warranting a less
creditable explanation are forthcoming, it would be unfair to listen to
the suggestions of suspicion.
George Sand tells us in the "Histoire de ma Vie" that Chopin found his
rooms in the Rue Tronchet cold and damp, and felt sorely the separation
from her. The consequence of this was that the saintly woman, the sister
of mercy, took, after some time, pity upon her suffering worshipper, and
once more sacrificed herself. Not to misrepresent her account, the only
one we have, of this change in the domestic arrangements of the
two friends, I shall faithfully transcribe her delicately-worded
statements:--
He again began to cough alarmingly, and I saw myself forced
either to give in my resignation as nurse, or to pass my life
in impossible journeyings to and fro. He, in order to spare me
these, came every day to tell me with a troubled face and a
feeble voice that he was wonderfully well. He asked if he
might dine with us, and he went away in the evening, shivering
in his cab. Seeing how he took to heart his exclusion from our
family life, I offered to let to him one of the pavilions, a
part of which I could give up to him. He joyfully accepted. He
had there his room, received there his friends, and gave there
his lessons without incommoding me. Maurice had the room above
his; I occupied the other pavilion with my daughter.
Let us see if we cannot get some glimpses of the life in the pavilions
of the Rue Pigalle, No. 16. In the first months of 1840, George Sand was
busy with preparations for the performance of her drama Cosima, moving
heaven and earth to bring about the admission of her friend Madame
Dorval into the company of the Theatre-Francais, where her piece,
in which she wished this lady to take the principal part, was to be
performed. Her son Maurice passed his days in the studio of Eugene
Delacroix; and Solange gave much time to her lessons, and lost much over
her toilet. Of Grzymala we hear that he is always in love with all the
beautiful women, and rolls his big eyes at the tall Borgnotte and the
little Jacqueline; and that Madame Marliani is always up to her ears in
philosophy. This I gathered from George Sand's Correspondance, where, as
the reader will see presently, more is to be found.
George Sand to Chopin; Cambrai, August 13, 1840:--
I arrived at noon very tired, for it is 45 and 35 leagues from
Paris to this place. We shall relate to you good stories of
the bourgeois of Cambrai. They are beaux, they are stupid,
they are shopkeepers; they are the sublime of the genre. If
the Historical Procession does not console us, we are capable
of dying of ennui at the politeness which people show us. We
are lodged like princes. But what hosts, what conversations,
what dinners! We laugh at them when we are by ourselves, but
when we are before the enemy, what a pitiable figure we
selves, make! I am no longer desirous to see you come; but I
aspire to depart very quickly, and I understand why you do not
wish to give concerts. It is not unlikely that Pauline Viardot
may not sing the day after to-morrow, for want of a hall. We
shall, perhaps, leave a day sooner. I wish I were already far
away from the Cambresians, male and female.
Good night! I am going to bed, I am overcome with fatigue.
Love your old woman [votre vieille] as she loves you.
From a letter written two days later to her son, we learn that Madame
Viardot after all gave two concerts at Cambrai. But amusing as the
letter is, we will pass it over as not concerning us here. Of another
letter (September 20,1840), likewise addressed to her son, I shall quote
only one passage, although it contains much interesting matter about the
friends and visitors of the inmates of the pavilions of the Rue Pigalle,
No. 16:--
Balzac came to dine here the day before yesterday. He is quite
mad. He has discovered the blue rose, for which the
horticultural societies of London and Belgium have promised a
reward of 500,000 francs (qui dit, dit-il). He will sell,
moreover, every grain at a hundred sous, and for this great
botanic production he will lay out only fifty centimes.
Hereupon Rollinat asked him naively:--
"Well, why, then, do you not set about it at once?"
To which Balzac replied:
"Oh! because I have so many other things to do; but I shall
set about it one of these days."
Stavenow, in Schone Geister (see foot-note, p. 70), tells an anecdote of
Balzac, which may find a place here:--
One day Balzac had invited George Sand, Chopin, and Gutmann to
dinner. On that occasion he related to them that the next day
he would have to meet a bill of 30,000 francs, but that he had
not a sou in his pocket. Gutmann asked what he intended to do?
"Well," replied Balzac, "what shall I do? I wait quietly.
Before to-morrow something unexpected may turn up, and give me
the means to pay the sum." Scarcely had he said this when the
door bell rang. The servant entered and announced that a
gentleman was there who urgently wished to speak with M.
Balzac.
Balzac rose and left the room. After a quarter of an hour he
came back in high spirits and said:
"The 30,000 francs are found. My publisher wishes to bring out
a new edition of my works, and he offers me just this sum."
George Sand, Chopin, and Gutmann looked at each other with a
smile, and thought--"Another one!"
George Sand to her son; Paris, September 4, 1840:--
We have had here great shows of troops. They have fione the
gendarme and cuisse the national guardsman. All Paris was in
agitation, as if there were to be a revolution. Nothing took
place, except that some passers-by were knocked down by the
police.
There were places in Paris where it was dangerous to pass, as
these gentlemen assassinated right and left for the pleasure
of getting their hands into practice. Chopin, who will not
believe anything, has at last the proof and certainty of it.
Madame Marliani is back. I dined at her house the day before
yesterday with the Abbe de Lamennais. Yesterday Leroux dined
here. Chopin embraces you a thousand times. He is always qui,
qui, qui, me, me, me. Rollinat smokes like a steam-boat.
Solange has been good for two or three days, but yesterday she
had a fit of temper [acces de fureur]. It is the Rebouls, the
English neighbours, people and dogs, who turn her head.
In the summer of 1840 George Sand did not go to Nohant, and Chopin seems
to have passed most of, if not all, the time in Paris. From a letter
addressed to her half-brother, we learn that the reason of her staying
away from her country-seat was a wish to economise:--
If you will guarantee my being able to pass the summer at
Nohant for 4,000 francs, I will go. But I have never been
there without spending 1,500 francs per month, and as I do not
spend here the half of this, it is neither the love of work,
nor that of spending, nor that of glory, which makes me
stay...
George Sand's fits of economy never lasted very long. At any rate,
in the summer of 1841 we find her again at Nohant. But as it is my
intention to treat of Chopin's domestic life at Nohant and in Paris
with some fulness in special chapters, I shall now turn to his artistic
doings.
In 1839 there appeared only one work by Chopin, Op. 28, the "Preludes,"
but in the two following years as many as sixteen--namely, Op. 35-50.
Here is an enumeration of these compositions, with the dates of
publication and the dedications.
[FOOTNOTE: Both the absence of dedications in the case of some
compositions, and the persons to whom others are dedicated, have a
biographical significance. They tell us of the composer's absence from
Paris and aristocratic society, and his return to them.]
The "Vingt-quatre Preludes," Op. 28, published in September, 1839, have
a twofold dedication, the French and English editions being dedicated a
son ami Pleyel, and the German to Mr. J. C. Kessler. The publications
of 1840 are: in May--Op. 35, "Sonate" (B flat minor); Op. 36, "Deuxieme
Impromptu" (F sharp minor); Op. 37, "Deux Nocturnes" (G minor and G
major); in July--Op. 42, "Valse" (A flat major); in September--Op.
38, "Deuxieme Ballade" (F major), dedicated to Mr. R. Schumann; in
October--Op. 39, "Troisieme Scherzo" (C sharp minor), dedicated to
Mr. A. Gutmann; in November--Op. 40, "Deux Polonaises" (A major and C
minor), dedicated to Mr. J. Fontana; and in December--Op. 41, "Quatre
Mazurkas" (C sharp and E minor, B and A flat major), dedicated to E.
Witwicki. Those of 1841 are: in October--Op. 43, "Tarantelle" (A flat
major), without any dedication; and in November--Op. 44, "Polonaise" (F
sharp minor), dedicated to Madame la Princesse Charles de Beauvau;
Op. 45, "Prelude" (C sharp minor), dedicated to Madame la Princesse
Elizabeth Czernicheff; Op. 46, "Allegro de Concert" (A major), dedicated
to Mdlle. F. Muller; Op. 47, "Troisieme Ballade" (A flat major),
dedicated to Mdlle. P. de Noailles; Op. 48, "Deux Nocturnes" (C minor
and F sharp minor), dedicated to Mdlle. L. Duperre; Op. 49, "Fantaisie"
(F minor), dedicated to Madame la Princesse C. de Souzzo; and Op. 50,
"Trois Mazurkas" (G and A flat major, and C sharp minor), dedicated to
Mr. Leon Smitkowski.
Chopin's genius had now reached the most perfect stage of its
development, and was radiating with all the intensity of which its
nature was capable. Notwithstanding such later creations as the fourth
"Ballade," Op. 52, the "Barcarolle," Op. 60, and the "Polonaise," Op.
53, it can hardly be said that the composer surpassed in his subsequent
works those which he had published in recent years, works among which
were the first three ballades, the preludes, and a number of stirring
polonaises and charming nocturnes, mazurkas, and other pieces.
However, not only as a creative artist, but also as an executant, Chopin
was at the zenith of his power. His bodily frame had indeed suffered
from disease, but as yet it was not seriously injured, at least, not
so seriously as to disable him to discharge the functions of a musical
interpreter. Moreover, the great majority of his compositions demanded
from the executant other qualities than physical strength, which was
indispensable in only a few of his works. A writer in the "Menestrel"
(April 25, 1841) asks himself the question whether Chopin had progressed
as a pianist, and answers: "No, for he troubles himself little about the
mechanical secrets of the piano; in him there is no charlatanism;
heart and genius alone speak, and in these respects his privileged
organisation has nothing to learn." Or rather let us say, Chopin
troubled himself enough about the mechanical secrets of the piano, but
not for their own sakes: he regarded them not as ends, but as means to
ends, and although mechanically he may have made no progress, he had
done so poetically. Love and sorrow, those most successful teachers of
poets and musicians, had not taught him in vain.
It was a fortunate occurrence that at this period of his career Chopin
was induced to give a concert, and equally fortunate that men of
knowledge, judgment, and literary ability have left us their impressions
of the event. The desirability of replenishing an ever-empty purse, and
the instigations of George Sand, were no doubt the chief motive powers
which helped the composer to overcome his dislike to playing in public.
"Do you practise when the day of the concert approaches?" asked Lenz.
[FOOTNOTE: Die grossen Pianoforte-Virtusen unstrer Zeit, p. 36.] "It is
a terrible time for me," was Chopin's answer; "I dislike publicity, but
it is part of my position. I shut myself up for a fortnight and play
Bach. That is my preparation; I never practise my own compositions."
What Gutmann told me confirms these statements. Chopin detested playing
in public, and became nervous when the dreaded time approached. He then
fidgeted a great deal about his clothes, and felt very unhappy if one
or the other article did not quite fit or pinched him a little. On one
occasion Chopin, being dissatisfied with his own things, made use of a
dress-coat and shirt of his pupil Gutmann. By the way, the latter, who
gave me this piece of information, must have been in those days of less
bulk, and, I feel inclined to add, of less height, than he was when I
became acquainted with him.
Leaving the two concerts given by Chopin in 1841 and 1842 to be
discussed in detail in the next chapter, I shall now give a translation
of the Polish letters which he wrote in the summer and autumn of 1841 to
Fontana. The letters numbered 4 and 5 are those already alluded to on p.
24 (foot-note 3) which Karasowski gives as respectively dated by Chopin:
"Palma, November 17, 1838"; and "Valdemosa, January 9, 1839." But
against these dates militate the contents: the mention of Troupenas,
with whom the composer's business connection began only in 1840 (with
the Sonata, Op. 35); the mention of the Tarantelle, which was not
published until 1841; the mention (contradictory to an earlier
inquiry--see p. 30) of the sending back of a valet nowhere else alluded
to; the mention of the sending and arrival of a piano, irreconcilable
with the circumstances and certain statements in indisputably
correctly-dated letters; and, lastly, the absence of all mention of
Majorca and the Preludes, those important topics in the letters really
from that place and of that time. Karasowski thinks that the letters
numbered 1, 2, 3, and 9 were of the year 1838, and those numbered 6,
7, and 8 of the year 1839; but as the "Tarantelle," Op. 43, the
"Polonaise," Op. 44, the "Prelude," Op. 45, the "Allegro de Concert,"
Op. 46, the third "Ballade," Op. 47, the two "Nocturnes," Op. 48, and
the "Fantaisie," Op. 49, therein mentioned, were published in 1841, I
have no doubt that they are of the year 1841. The mention in the ninth
letter of the Rue Pigalle, 16, George Sand's and Chopin's abode in
Paris, of Pelletan, the tutor of George Sand's son Maurice, and of the
latter's coming to Paris, speaks likewise against 1838 and for 1841,
1840 being out of the question, as neither George Sand nor Chopin was in
this year at Nohant. What decides me especially to reject the date 1839
for the seventh letter is that Pauline Garcia had then not yet become
the wife of Louis Viardot. There is, moreover, an allusion to a visit of
Pauline Viardot to Nohant in the summer of 1841 in one of George Sand's
letters (August 13, 1841). In this letter occurs a passage which is
important for the dating both of the fifth and the seventh letter. As
to the order of succession of the letters, it may be wrong, it certainly
does not altogether satisfy me; but it is the result of long and careful
weighing of all the pros and cons. I have some doubt about the seventh
letter, which, read by the light of George Sand's letter, ought perhaps
to be placed after the ninth. But the seventh letter is somewhat of a
puzzle. Puzzles, owing to his confused statements and slipshod style,
are, however, not a rare thing in Chopin's correspondence. The passage
in the above-mentioned letter of George Sand runs thus: "Pauline leaves
me on the 16th [of August]; Maurice goes on the 17th to fetch his
sister, who should be here on the 23rd."
[I.] Nohant [1841].
My very dear friend,--I arrived here yesterday, Thursday. For
Schlesinger [FOOTNOTE: The Paris music-publisher.] I have
composed a Prelude in C sharp minor [Op. 45], which is short,
as he wished it. Seeing that, like Mechetti's [FOOTNOTE: The
Vienna music-publisher.] Beethoven, this has to come out at
the New Year, do not yet give my Polonaise to Leo (although
you have already transcribed it), for to-morrow I shall send
you a letter for Mechetti, in which I shall explain to him
that, if he wishes something short, I will give him for the
Album instead of the mazurka (which is already old) the NEW
prelude. It is well modulated, and I can send it without
hesitation. He ought to give me 300 francs for it, n'est-ce
pas? Par-dessus le marche he may get the mazurka, only he must
not print it in the Album.
Should Troupenas, [FOOTNOTE: Eugene Troupenas, the Paris music-
publisher.] that is, Masset, [FOOTNOTE: Masset (his daughter,
Madame Colombier, informed me) was the partner of Troupenas,
and managed almost the whole business, Troupenas being in weak
health, which obliged him to pass the last ten winters of his
life at Hyeres.] make any difficulties, do not give him the
pieces a farthing cheaper, and tell him that if he does not
wish to print them all--which I should not like--I could sell
them at a better price to others.
Now of something else.
You will find in the right-hand drawer of my writing-desk (in
the place where the cash-box always is) a sealed parcel
addressed to Madame Sand. Wrap this parcel in wax-cloth, seal
it, and send it by post to Madame Sand's address. Sew on the
address with a strong thread, that it may not come off the wax-
cloth. It is Madame Sand who asks me to do this. I know you
will do it perfectly well. The key, I think, is on the top
shelf of the little cabinet with the mirror. If it should not
be there, get a locksmith to open the drawer.
I love you as an old friend. Embrace Johnnie.--Your
FREDERICK.
[2.] Nohant [1841].
Thanks for forwarding the parcel. I send you the Prelude, in
large characters for Schlesinger and in small characters for
Mechetti. Clip the MS. of the Polonaise to the same size,
number the pages, and fold it like the Prelude, add to the
whole my letter to Mechetti, and deliver it into Leo's own
hands, praying him to send it by the first mail, as Mechetti
is waiting for it.
The letter to Haslinger [FOOTNOTE: The Vienna music-
publisher.] post yourself; and if you do not find Schlesinger
at home leave the letter, but do not give him the MS. until he
tells you that he accepts the Prelude as a settlement of the
account. If he does not wish to acquire the right of
publication for London, tell him to inform me of it by letter.
Do not forget to add the opus on the Polonaise and the
following number on the Prelude--that is, on the copies that
are going to Vienna.
I do not know how Czerniszewowa is spelt. Perhaps you will
find under the vase or on the little table near the bronze
ornament a note from her, from her daughter, or from the
governess; if not, I should be glad if you would go--they know
you already as my friend--to the Hotel de Londres in the Place
Vendome, and beg in my name the young Princess to give you her
name in writing and to say whether it is Tscher or Tcher. Or
better still, ask for Mdlle. Krause, the governess; tell her
that I wish to give the young Princess a surprise; and inquire
of her whether it is usual to write Elisabeth and
Tschernichef, or ff. [FOOTNOTE: Chopin dedicated the Prelude,
Op. 45, to Mdlle. la Princesse Elisabeth Czernicheff.]
If you do not wish to do this, don't be bashful with me, and
write that you would rather be excused, in which case I shall
find it out by some other means. But do not yet direct
Schlesinger to print the title. Tell him I don't know how to
spell. Nevertheless, I hope that you will find at my house
some note from them on which will be the name....
I conclude because it is time for the mail, and I wish that my
letter should reach Vienna without fail this week.
[3.] Nohant, Sunday [1841].
I send you the Tarantella [Op. 43]. Please to copy it. But
first go to Schlesinger, or, better still, to Troupenas, and
see the collection of Rossini's songs published by Troupenas.
In it there is a Tarantella in F. I do not know whether it is
written in 6/8 or 12/8 time. As to my composition, it does not
matter which way it is written, but I should prefer it to be
like Rossini's. Therefore, if the latter be in 12/8 or in C
with triplets, make in copying one bar out of two. It will be
thus: [here follows one bar of music, bars four and five of
the Tarantella as it is printed.] [FOOTNOTE: This is a
characteristic instance of Chopin's carelessness in the
notation of his music. To write his Tarantella in 12/8 or C
would have been an egregious mistake. How Chopin failed to see
this is inexplicable to me.]
I beg of you also to write out everything in full, instead of
marking repeats. Be quick, and give it to Leo with my letter
to Schubert. [FOOTNOTE: Schuberth, the Hamburg music-
publisher.] You know he leaves for Hamburg before the 8th of
next month, and I should not like to lose 500 francs.
As regards Troupenas, there is no hurry. If the time of my
manuscript is not right, do not deliver the latter, but make a
copy of it. Besides this, make a third copy of it for Wessel.
It will weary you to copy this nasty thing so often; but I
hope I shall not compose anything worse for a long time. I
also beg of you to look up the number of the last opus--
namely, the last mazurkas, or rather the waltz published by
Paccini [FOOTNOTE: Pacini, a Paris music-publisher. He
published the Waltz in A flat major, Op. 42, in the summer of
1840, if not earlier.]--and give the following number to the
Tarantella.
I am keeping my mind easy, for I know you are willing and
clever. I trust you will receive from me no more letters
burdened with commissions. Had I not been with only one foot
at home before my departure you would have none of these
unpleasantnesses. Attend to the Tarantella, give it to Leo,
and tell him to keep the money he may receive till I come
back. Once more I beg of you to excuse my troubling you so
much. To-day I received the letter from my people in Poland
you sent me. Tell the portier to give you all the letters
addressed to me.
[4.]
My dear friend,--As you are so good, be so to the end. Go to
the transport commission-office of Mr. Hamberg et Levistal
successeurs de Mr. Corstel fils aine et Cie, rue des Marais
St. Martin, No. 51, a Paris, and direct them to send at once
to Pleyel for the piano I am to have, so that it may go off
the next day. Say at the office that it is to be forwarded par
un envoy [sic] accelere et non ordinaire. Such a transport
costs of course far more, but is incomparably quicker. It will
probably cost five francs per cwt. I shall pay here. Only
direct them to give you a receipt, on which they will write
how many cwts. the piano weighs, when it leaves, and when it
will arrive at Chateauroux. If the piano is conveyed by
roulage [land-transport]--which goes straight to Toulouse and
leaves goods only on the route--the address must not be a la
Chatre, [FOOTNOTE: Instead of "la Chatre" we have in
Karasowski's Polish book "la Chatie," which ought to warn us
not to attribute all the peculiar French in this letter to
Chopin, who surely knew how to spell the name of the town in
the neighbourhood of the familiar Nohant.] but Madame
Dudevant, a Chateauroux, as I wrote above. [FOOTNOTE: "Address
of the piano: Madame Dudevant, a Chateauroux. Bureau Restant
chez M. Vollant Patureau." This is what Chopin wrote above.]
At the last-mentioned place the agency has been informed, and
will forward it at once. You need not send me the receipt, we
should require it only in case of some unforeseen reclamation.
The correspondent in Chateauroux says that PAR LA VOYE
ACCELERE [SIC] it will come from Paris in four days. If this
is so, let him bind himself to deliver the piano at
Chateauroux in four or five days.
Now to other business.
Should Pleyel make any difficulties, apply to Erard; I think
that the latter in all probability ought to be serviceable to
you. Only do not act hastily, and first ascertain how the
matter really stands.
As to the Tarantella, seal it and send it to Hamburg. To-
morrow I shall write you of other affairs, concerning
Troupenas, &c.
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.