The reader will no doubt notice and admire the caution of our young friend. Remembering that not even Paganini had escaped being censured in Prague, Chopin felt no inclination to give a concert, as he was advised to do. A letter in which he describes his Prague experiences reveals to us one of his weaknesses—one, however, which he has in common with many men of genius. A propos of his bursting into a wrong bedroom he says: "I am absent-minded, you know."
After three pleasant days at Prague the quatrefoil of friends betook themselves again to the road, and wended their way to Teplitz, where they arrived the same evening, and stopped two nights and one day. Here they fell in with many Poles, by one of whom, Louis Lempicki, Chopin was introduced to Prince Clary and his family, in whose castle he spent an evening in very aristocratic society. Among the guests were an Austrian prince, an Austrian and a Saxon general, a captain of the English navy, and several dandies whom Chopin suspected to be Austrian princes or counts. After tea he was asked by the mother of the Princess Clary, Countess Chotek, to play something. Chopin at once went to the piano, and invited those present to give him a theme to improvise upon.
Hereupon [he relates] I heard the ladies, who had taken seats
near a table, whisper to each other: "Un theme, un theme."
Three young princesses consulted together and at last turned
to Mr. Fritsche, the tutor of Prince Clary's only son, who,
with the approbation of all present, said to me: "The
principal theme of Rossini's 'Moses'." I improvised, and, it
appears, very successfully, for General Leiser [this was the
Saxon general] afterwards conversed with me for a long time,
and when he heard that I intended to go to Dresden he wrote
at once to Baron von Friesen as follows: "Monsieur Frederic
Chopin est recommande de la part du General Leiser a Monsieur
le Baron de Friesen, Maitre de Ceremonie de S.M. le Roi de
Saxe, pour lui etre utile pendant son sejour a Dresde et de
lui procurer la connaissance de plusieurs de nos artistes."
And he added, in German: "Herr Chopin is himself one of the
most excellent pianists whom I know."
In short, Chopin was made much of; had to play four times, received an invitation to dine at the castle the following day, &c., &c. That our friend, in spite of all these charming prospects, leaving behind him three lovely princesses, and who knows what other aristocratic amenities, rolled off the very next morning at five o'clock in a vehicle hired at the low price of two thalers—i.e., six shillings—must be called either a feat of superhuman heroism or an instance of barbarous insensibility—let the reader decide which. Chopin's visit to Teplitz was not part of his original plan, but the state of his finances was so good that he could allow himself some extravagances. Everything delighted him at Teplitz, and, short as his stay was, he did the sight-seeing thoroughly—we have his own word for it that he saw everything worth seeing, among the rest Dux, the castle of the Waldsteins, with relics of their ancestor Albrecht Waldstein, or Wallenstein.
Leaving Teplitz on the morning of August 26, he arrived in the evening of the same day in Dresden in good health and good humour. About this visit to Dresden little is to be said. Chopin had no intention of playing in public, and did nothing but look about him, admiring nature in Saxon Switzerland, and art in the "magnificent" gallery. He went to the theatre where Goethe's Faust (the first part), adapted by Tieck, was for the first time produced on the stage, Carl Devrient impersonating the principal part. "An awful but grand imagination! In the entr'actes portions from Spohr's opera "Faust" were performed. They celebrated today Goethe's eightieth birthday." It must be admitted that the master-work is dealt with rather laconically, but Chopin never indulges in long aesthetical discussions. On the following Saturday Meyerbeer's "Il Crociato" was to be performed by the Italian Opera—for at that time there was still an Italian Opera in Dresden. Chopin, however, did not stay long enough to hear it, nor did he very much regret missing it, having heard the work already in Vienna. Although Baron von Friesen received our friend most politely, he seems to have been of no assistance to him. Chopin fared better with his letter of introduction to Capellmeister Morlacchi, who returned the visit paid him and made himself serviceable. And now mark this touch of boyish vanity: "Tomorrow morning I expect Morlacchi, and I shall go with him to Miss Pechwell's. That is to say, I do not go to him, but he comes to me. Yes, yes, yes!" Miss Pechwell was a pupil of Klengel's, and the latter had asked Morlacchi to introduce Chopin to her. She seems to have been not only a technically skilful, fine-feeling, and thoughtful musician, but also in other respects a highly-cultivated person. Klengel called her the best pianist in Dresden. She died young, at the age of 35, having some time previously changed her maiden name for that of Madame Pesadori. We shall meet her again in the course of this biography.
Of the rest of Chopin's journey nothing is known except that it led him to Breslau, but when he reached and left it, and what he did there, are open questions, and not worth troubling about. So much, however, is certain, that on September 12, 1829, he was settled again in his native city, as is proved by a letter bearing that date.
CHAPTER VIII
THE WORKS OF CHOPIN'S FIRST PERIOD.
The only works of Chopin we have as yet discussed are—if we leave out of account the compositions which the master neither published himself nor wished to be published by anybody else—the "Premier Rondeau," Op. 1, the "Rondeau a la Mazur," Op. 5, and "Variations sur un air allemand" (see Chapter III). We must retrace our steps as far back as 1827, and briefly survey the composer's achievements up to the spring of 1829, when a new element enters into his life and influences his artistic work. It will be best to begin with a chronological enumeration of those of Chopin's compositions of the time indicated that have come down to us. In 1827 came into existence or were finished: a Mazurka (Op. 68, No. 2), a Polonaise (Op. 71, No. 1), and a Nocturne (Op. 72); in 1828, "La ci darem la mano, varie" for piano and orchestra (Op. 2), a Polonaise (Op. 71, No. 2), a Rondo for two pianos (Op. 73), a Sonata (Op. 4), a Fantasia on Polish airs for piano and orchestra (Op. 13), a Krakowiak, "Grand Rondeau de Concert," likewise for piano and orchestra (Op. 14), and a Trio for piano, violin, and violoncello (Op. 8); in 1829, a Polonaise (Op. 71, No. 3), a Waltz (Op. 69, No. 2), another Waltz (in E major, without opus number), and a Funeral March (Op. 726). I will not too confidently assert that every one of the last four works was composed in the spring or early summer of 1829; but whether they were or were not, they may be properly ranged with those previously mentioned of 1827 and 1828. The works that bear a higher opus number than 65 were published after the composer's death by Fontana. The Waltz without opus number and the Sonata, Op. 4, are likewise posthumous publications.