CHAPTER IV.
THE JOURNEY TO BERLIN. CHOPINʼS LETTERS. AN INCIDENT OF THE RETURN TO WARSAW.
N 1827 Chopin passed his final examination before leaving the Lyceum, not, however, with such brilliant success as on former occasions, when every promotion to a higher class had been accompanied by a special reward. This is accounted for by his having, during the last year, devoted his chief energies to music, a goodly pile of compositions, finished or sketched in outline, being found in his study. Elsner, who was the keenest observer and most competent judge of Fredericʼs artistic progress, and creative power, exhorted his parents to let their son have his own way, and to do all they could to encourage his lofty flights of fancy.
The question now was how to give the young composer better opportunities for hearing and studying than his native city afforded. Although first-rate artists occasionally gave concerts in Warsaw, Frederic could only satisfy his ardent desire of hearing the sublime works of the classic masters, in the larger European centres of life and intelligence. His parents, therefore, resolved to send their beloved son to Vienna or Berlin, if only for a few weeks, at the very first favourable opportunity. One soon offered. In 1828, Professor Jarocki, having been invited by Alexander von Humboldt to the Naturalistsʼ Congress, at Berlin, Nicholas Chopin was only too happy to confide his son to the care of one of his best friends, while the Professor was equally pleased to have the company of an amiable and talented young man like Chopin.
VISITS BERLIN. Thus he left his native land for the first time to visit a large foreign city, where he hoped to learn a great deal. Unconscious of his own artistic greatness he had no wish to appear in Berlin as a pianist or composer. An opportunity was offered him of meeting Spontini, Zelter, and the youthful though famous Felix Mendelssohn, but he did not venture to present himself before these celebrated masters. The physiognomies of the German savants seemed odd to the young Pole, the French blood stirred in his veins, and he could not refrain from caricaturing these worthy but somewhat strange-looking gentlemen.
He was enraptured with the oratorio of Handelʼs, which he heard at the Academy of Singing: never had he received so deep an impression from church music. The performance of Der Freischütz, with which bewitching opera he had already become acquainted in Warsaw, likewise gave him indescribable delight, while he was much interested in comparing the opera in that city with the Royal opera in Berlin.
Since he left Warsaw the only time he touched the piano was at a little village on his way back, when he played at the request of the post master and his travelling companions.
LETTER TO WOYCIECHOWSKY. We will now let our artist speak for himself, only making such alterations as the necessities of translation require.
To Titus Woyciechowsky.
Warsaw, September 9th, 1828.
Dearest Titus,
You cannot think how I have been longing for news of you and your mother, nor imagine my joy when I received your letter. I was then at Strzyzewo, where I spent the whole summer, but could not reply immediately because I was so busy preparing to return to Warsaw. Now I am writing like a lunatic, for I really do not know what I am about. I am actually starting for Berlin to-day! There is to be a philosophical congress at Berlin—after the model of those held in Switzerland and Bavaria—to which the King has requested the University to invite the most celebrated European naturalists. The president is to be the renowned Alexander von Humboldt. Professor Jarocki has received an invitation as a zoologist, and ex-student and doctor of the Berlin University. Something magnificent is anticipated, and it is reported that Spontini will give a performance of his “Cortez.”
Jarockiʼs friend and teacher, Lichtenstein, officiates as secretary to the Congress: he is a member of the Academy of Singing, and is on a friendly footing with the director, Herr Zelter. I learn from a good authority in Berlin that I shall have an opportunity, through Lichtenstein, of becoming acquainted with all the best musicians in the Prussian capital, except Spontini, with whom he is not on good terms.
I shall be much pleased to meet the Prussian Prince Radziwill, who is a friend of Spontini. I only intend spending a fortnight with Jarocki, but this will give me an opportunity of, at any rate, hearing a good opera once, and so having an idea of a perfect performance, which is worth a good deal of trouble.
At Strzyzewo I arranged my last Rondo in C major, for two pianos.[13]
To-day I tried it with Ernemann, at Bucholtzʼs,[14] and it came out pretty well. We intend to play it some day at the “Ressource.”
As to new compositions I have nothing besides the still unfinished Trio (G minor) which I began after your departure. The first Allegro I have already tried with accompaniments.
It seems to me that this Trio will meet the same fate as the Sonata and Variations. Both are already in Vienna; the former I have dedicated to Elsner, as his pupil; to the latter I have—perhaps somewhat presumptuously—affixed your name. I acted on the impulse of affection, and I am sure you will not misconstrue my motives. Skarbek has not yet returned, Jedrzejewicz will remain some time longer in Paris.[15] He was there introduced to the pianist Sowinski,[16] who wrote to me to say that he should like to make my acquaintance, by correspondence, before he comes to Warsaw. As he is assistant editor of Fétisʼs Revue Musicale, he would be glad to be informed about musical affairs in Poland, or to receive biographies of the foremost Polish composers and artists—matters in which I have not the least intention of being mixed up, so I shall reply to him from Berlin that what he wants is not at all in my line, and that I do not feel competent to write for a Paris journal, requiring able and matured criticism.
At the end of this month I shall leave Berlin, a five daysʼ journey by diligence!
Everything here is just the same as ever; the excellent Zywny is the heart and soul of all our parties.
I must conclude, for my luggage is already packed and sent to the diligence.
I kiss your motherʼs feet and hands. My parents and sisters send kind regards and sincerest wishes for the improvement of her health.
Take pity on me, and write soon, however briefly. I shall value a single line.
Yours,
FREDERIC.
FIRST LETTER FROM BERLIN TO HIS PARENTS.
Berlin, Tuesday.[17]
My dearly beloved Parents
and Sisters,
We arrived safely in this great city about 3 oʼclock on Sunday afternoon, and went direct from the post to the hotel “Zum Kronprinz,” where we are now. It is a good and comfortable house. The day we arrived Professor Jarocki took me to Herr Lichtensteinʼs, where I met Alex. von Humboldt. He is not above the middle height, and his features cannot be called handsome, but the prominent, broad brow, and the deep penetrating glance reveal the searching intellect of the scholar, who is as great a philanthropist as he is a traveller. He speaks French like his mother tongue; even you would have said so, dear Father.
Herr Lichtenstein promised to introduce me to the first musicians here; and regretted that we had not arrived a few days sooner to have heard his daughter perform at a matinée, last Sunday, with orchestral accompaniments.
I, for my part, felt but little disappointment, but, whether rightly or wrongly, I know not, for I have neither seen nor heard the young lady. The day we arrived there was a performance of “The Interrupted Sacrifice,”[18] but our visit to Herr Lichtenstein prevented me from being present.
Yesterday the savants had a grand dinner; Herr von Humboldt did not occupy the chair, but a very different looking person, whose name I cannot at this moment recall. However, as he is, no doubt, some celebrity, I have written his name under my portrait of him. (I could not refrain from making some caricatures, which I have already classified.) The dinner lasted so long that there was not time for me to hear Birnbach, the much-praised violinist of nine years. To-day I shall dine alone, having made my excuses to Professor Jarocki, who readily perceived that, to a musician, the performance of such a work as Spontiniʼs “Ferdinand Cortez,” must be more interesting than an interminable dinner among philosophers. Now I am quite alone, and enjoying a chat with you, my dear ones.
There is a rumour that the great Paginini is coming here. I only hope it is true. Prince Radziwill is expected on the 20th of this month. It will be a great pleasure to me if he comes. I have, as yet, seen nothing but the Zoological Cabinet, but I know the city pretty well, for I wandered among the beautiful streets and bridges for two whole days. You shall have a verbal description of these, as, also, of the large and CONSIDERS BERLIN A STRAGGLING CITY. decidedly beautiful castle. The chief impression Berlin makes upon me is that of a straggling city which could, I think, contain double its present large population. We wanted to have stayed in the French street, but I am very glad we did not, for it is as broad as our Lezno,[19] and needs ten times as many people as are in it to take off its desolate appearance.
To-day will be my first experience of the music of Berlin. Do not think me one-sided, dearest Papa, for saying that I would much rather have spent the morning at Schlesingerʼs than in labouring through the thirteen rooms of the Zoological Museum, but I came here for the sake of my musical education, and Schlesingerʼs library, containing, as it does, the most important musical works of every age and country, is, of course, of more interest to me than any other collection. I console myself with the thought that I shall not miss Schlesingerʼs, and that a young man ought to see all he can, as there is something to be learnt everywhere. This morning I went to Kistingʼs pianoforte manufactory, at the end of the long Frederic Street, but as there was not a single instrument completed, I had my long walk in vain. Fortunately for me there is a good grand piano in our hotel, which I play on every day, both to my own and the landlordʼs gratification.
The Prussian diligences are most uncomfortable, so the journey was less agreeable than I had anticipated; however, I reached the capital of the Hohenzollerns in good health and spirits. Our travelling companions were a German lawyer, living at Posen, who tried to distinguish himself by making coarse jokes; and a very fat farmer, with a smattering of politeness acquired by travelling.
At the last stage before Frankfort-on-the-Oder, a German Sappho entered the diligence and poured forth a torrent of ridiculous, egotistical complaints. Quite unwittingly, the good lady amused me immensely, for it was as good as a comedy, when she began to argue with the lawyer, who, instead of laughing at her, seriously controverted everything she said.
The suburbs of Berlin, on the side by which we approached are not pretty, but the scrupulous cleanliness and order which everywhere prevail are very pleasing to the eye. To-morrow I shall visit the suburbs on the other side.
The Congress will commence its sittings the day after to-morrow, and Herr Lichtenstein has promised me a ticket. In the evening Alex. von Humboldt will receive the members at his house: Professor Jarocki offered to procure me an invitation, but I thanked him and said I should gain little, if any, intellectual advantage from such a gathering, for which I was not learned enough; besides the professional gentlemen might cast questioning glances at a layman like me, and ask, “Is Saul then among the prophets?” I fancied, even at the dinner, that my neighbour, Professor Lehmann, a celebrated botanist from Hamburg, looked at me rather curiously. I was astonished at the strength of his small fist; he broke with ease the large piece of white bread, to divide which I was fain to use both hands and a knife. He leaned over the table to talk to Professor Jarocki, and in the excitement of the conversation mistook his “A REAL SAVANT.” own plate and began to drum upon mine. A real savant, was he not? with the great ungainly nose, too. All this time I was on thorns, and as soon as he had finished with my plate, I wiped off the marks of his fingers with my serviette as fast as possible.
Marylski cannot have an atom of taste if he thinks the Berlin ladies dress well; their clothes are handsome, no doubt, but alas for the beautiful stuffs cut up for such puppets!
Your ever fondly loving,
FREDERIC.
Berlin, September 20th, 1828.
I am well and happy, dear Parents and Sisters. As if on purpose to honour me, a fresh piece is brought out at the theatre every day. First I heard an oratorio at the Academy of Singing; then at the Opera, “Ferdinand Cortez,” “Il Matrimonio Segreto,” and Onslowʼs[20] “Der Hausirer.” I greatly enjoyed all these performances, but I must confess that I was quite carried away by Handelʼs “Ode on St. Ceciliaʼs Day;” this most nearly approaches my ideal of sublime music. With the exception of Signora Tibaldi (alto), and Fräulein von Schätzel, whom I heard in “Der Hausirer,” and at the Academy of Singing, all the best singers are away. Fräulein von Schätzel pleased me best in the Oratorio, but it may have been that I was in a better mood that evening for listening. The Oratorio, however, was not without a “but,” which, perhaps, will only be got rid of in Paris.
I have not called on Herr Lichtenstein yet, for he is so busy with preparations for the Congress, that even Professor Jarocki can scarcely get a word with him, but he has kindly procured me a ticket of admission. I was in such a capital place that I could see and hear everything, and was quite close to the Crown Prince. Spontini, Zelter, and Felix Mendelssohn Bartholdy were also there; but I did not speak to any of them, as I did not think it proper to introduce myself. It is said that Prince Radziwill will come to-day; I shall find out after breakfast if this is really true.
BARON VON HUMBOLDT. At the Singing Academy I observed the handsome Princess von Liegnitz, talking to a man in a kind of livery, whose face I could not clearly see. I asked my neighbour if he were a Royal valet de chambre, and received for a reply, “Aye, that is His Excellency Baron von Humboldt.” You may imagine, my dear ones, how thankful I was that I had only uttered my question in a whisper; but I assure you that the chamberlainʼs uniform changes even the countenance, or I could not have failed to recognise the great traveller, who has ascended the mighty Chimborazo. Yesterday he was present at the performance of “Der Hausirer,” or, as the French call it, “Le Colporteur.” In the Royal box sat Prince Charles.
The day before yesterday we visited the Royal library, which is very large, but does not contain many musical works. I was much interested in seeing an autograph letter of Kosciuskoʼs, which his biographer, Falkenstein, immediately copied, letter by letter. When he saw that we were Poles, and could, therefore, read the letter without any trouble, he begged Professor Jarocki to translate it into German, while he wrote it down in his pocket book. Falkenstein, an agreeable young man, is secretary to the Dresden Library. I met, also, the editor of the Berlin Musical Gazette; we were introduced, and exchanged a few words. To-morrow will see the fulfilment of one of my most earnest wishes: “Der Freischutz” is to be performed. I shall then be able to compare our singers with the singers here. To-day I am invited to the grand dinner at the drill house. The number of caricatures increases.
Yours ever lovingly,
FREDERIC.
Berlin, Saturday, September 27th, 1828.
I am quite well, and have seen all that is to be seen. I shall soon be with you again. In a week, from the day after to-morrow, we shall embrace. Lounging about agrees with me capitally. Yesterday “The Interrupted Sacrifice” was performed again, and Fräulein von Schätzel omitted more than one chromatic scale. I quite fancied myself in your midst.[21] This “your” reminds me of a Berlin caricature.[22] A Napoleon grenadier stands as a sentinel; he calls out, “qui vive,” to a woman passing. She is about to reply, “die Wäscherin” (the laundress), but wishing to express herself in a more refined manner, she says, “la vache” (the cow.) I count among the great events of my visit DINING WITH THE NATURALISTS. here the second dinner with the naturalists, which took place the day before the conclusion of the Congress, and was really very lively and entertaining. Several very fair convivial songs were sung, in which all the company joined more or less heartily. Zelter conducted, and a large golden cup, standing on a red pedestal, in front of him, as a sign of his exalted musical merits, appeared to give him much satisfaction. The dishes were better that day than usual, they say, “because the naturalists have been principally occupied during their sittings with the improvement of meats, sauces, soups, &c.” They make fun of these learned gentlemen in like manner at the Königstadt Theatre. In a play, in which some beer is drunk, one asks, “Why is beer so good now in Berlin?” “Why, because the naturalists are holding their conference,” is the answer.
But it is time to go to bed, as we start off quite early to-morrow. We shall spend two days at Posen, on account of an invitation from the Archbishop Wolicki. Oh, how much I shall have to tell you, my dearests, and how glad I shall be to see you again.
Your warmly affectionate
FREDERIC.
Professor Jarocki and Chopin had, as companions, on their return from Berlin, two gentlemen, whose wearisome talk about politics, in which Chopin never took any interest, and still more their incessant smoking, (almost unendurable to Chopin) made them very disagreeable. When one of the gentlemen announced that he should smoke till he went to sleep, and would rather die than give up his pipe, Frederic and the Professor went outside the diligence to enjoy the fresh air.
At the little town of Züllichau, finding they had an hour to wait for horses, Professor Jarocki proposed a walk through the place. This did not take long, and as the horses were not ready when they returned, the Professor sat down to a meal—the post-house being also a restaurant—but Frederic, as if drawn by a magnet, went into the next room, and saw—oh, wonder of wonders!—a grand piano. Professor Jarocki, who could see through the open door, laughed to himself when his young friend opened the instrument, which had a very unpromising exterior; Chopin also looked at it with some misgivings; but when he had struck a few chords he exclaimed, in joyful surprise, “O Santa Cæcilia, the piano is in tune.”
Only the impassioned musician knows what it is, after sitting for several days in a diligence, suddenly, and quite unexpectedly, to have an opportunity of playing on a good instrument.
PLAYING AT A POST-HOUSE. Regardless of his surroundings our artist began to improvise con amore. Attracted by the music, one of the travellers got up and stood behind the playerʼs chair. Chopin called out to Professor Jarocki, in Polish, “Now we shall see whether my listener be a connoisseur or not.” Frederic began his Fantasia on Polish Songs (op. 13); the traveller, a German, stood like one petrified, captivated by this music, so new and bewitching; his eyes mechanically followed every movement of the pianistʼs delicate hand; he had forgotten everything, even his beloved pipe, which went out unheeded. The other travellers stepped in softly, and at the same time the tall postmaster and his buxom wife appeared at the side door with their two pretty daughters behind them. Frederic, unmindful of his audience, and absorbed in converse with his muse, had lost all thought of where he was, and that he must soon be on his way.
More and more tender and graceful became his playing; the fairies seemed to be singing their moon-light melodies; everyone was listening in rapt attention to the elegant arabesques sparkling from his fingers, when a stentorian voice, which made the windows rattle, called out, “The horses are ready, gentlemen.”
“Confounded disturber,” roared the postmaster, while the triplet of ladies cast angry glances at the postilion. Chopin sprang from his seat, but was immediately surrounded by his audience, who exclaimed with one voice: “Go on, dear sir, finish that glorious piece, which we should have heard all through but for that tiresome man.” “But,” replied Chopin, consulting his watch, “we have already been here some hours, and are due in Posen shortly.”
“Stay and play, noble young artist,” cried the postmaster, “I will give you couriersʼ horses if you will only remain a little longer.”
“Do be persuaded,” began the postmasterʼs wife, almost threatening him with an embrace. What could Frederic do but sit down again to the instrument?
When he paused the servant appeared with wine and glasses; the daughters of the host served the artist first, then the other travellers, while the postmaster gave a cheer for the “darling Polyhymnias,” as he expressed it, in which all united. One of the company (probably the town cantor) went close up to Chopin and said, in a voice trembling with emotion, “Sir, I am an old and thoroughly trained musician; I, too, play the piano, and so know how to appreciate your masterly performance; if Mozart had heard it he would have grasped your hand and cried, ‘Bravo.’ An insignificant old man like myself cannot dare to do so.”
The women, in their gratitude, filled the pockets of the carriage with the best eatables that the house contained, not forgetting some good wine. The postmaster exclaimed, with tears of joy, “As long as I live I shall think, with enthusiasm, of Frederic Chopin.”
CARRIED TO HIS CARRIAGE. When, after playing one more Mazurka, Frederic prepared to go, his gigantic host seized him in his arms, and carried him to the carriage.
The postilion, still sulky over his scolding, and jealous because the pretty servant girl could not take her eyes off the interesting virtuoso, whispered to her, “Things often go very unfairly in the world. The young gentleman is carried into the carriage by the master himself; the like of us must climb laboriously on to the box by ourselves, though we are musical.”
Long years afterwards Chopin would recall this episode with pleasure. It was like a good omen to him at the commencement of his artistic career. He often related how, like the old minstrels who went from town to town with their harps and received good cheer as their honorarium, he had played at Züllichau for cakes, fruit, and good wine; and assured his most intimate friends that the highest praise lavished on him by the press had never given him more pleasure than the naïve homage of the German who, in his eagerness to hear, let his pipe go out.
At Posen our travellers visited, by invitation, the Archbishop Wolicki, and paid their respects to Prince A. Radziwill. They both met with the kindest reception from the Prince, who knew how to esteem such a learned man as Jarocki, but, being a musician to the backbone, he was better able to appreciate the eminent talents of Chopin; he regarded him as a kindred spirit, whose superiority he gladly recognized. Most of the day was devoted to music; the sonatas of Mozart, Beethoven, and Hummel were performed by Chopin and the bandmaster, Klinghor. But Frederic called forth most admiration by his incomparable improvisation.
As soon as they had left Posen, Fredericʼs ardent yearning to see his family impelled him to his fatherʼs house, and his love of art summoned him back to his studies. The last miles seemed endless, and, yielding to his pressing request, the Professor decided to take post horses at Lowicz.
On October 6th Frederic reached at length his much desired goal. His eyes, sparkling with pleasure, rested on the towers of Warsaw, the nimble horses flew along the street, the coach stopped at the door, there were loud cries of joy, and the dear returning one was in the loving arms of his parents and sisters.
