PATRONIZED BY THE CHIEF ARISTOCRACY. From that evening the flower of the aristocracy vied with each other in patronizing the marvellous boy, whom they regarded as an ornament of their salons. We merely mention the Princes Czartoryski, Sapiecha, Czetwertynski, Lubecki, Radziwill, Counts Skarbek, Wolicki, Pruszak, Hussarzewski, Lempicki. The Princess Czetwertynski introduced him to the Princess Lowicka, the unhappy wife of the Grand Prince Constantin Pawlowicz. Young, bewitchingly beautiful, full of intelligence and grace, her charms won the affections of the Grand Prince, who shunned no sacrifice to make her his own. His passion for this beautiful woman only temporarily modified his harshness and violence, and, in her wretched life, the enjoyment of art was her one solace.
Accustomed in his fatherʼs house to good society, and now having the entrée of the first salons in the capital, refined surroundings became to Frederic a second nature, and gave him the life-long impress of a gentleman. He always had an aversion to coarse people, and avoided anyone who lacked good manners.
Catalini, when passing through Warsaw, became acquainted with the youthful virtuoso, and was delighted with his artistic pianoforte playing. As a grateful recognition of the enjoyment he had afforded her, she presented him with a gold watch, on the back of which was inscribed: “Donné par Madame Catalini à Frédéric Chopin, agé de dix ans.” Fredericʼs earliest compositions were dances, Polonaises, Mazurkas, Waltzes; then he accomplished a March, which he ventured to dedicate to the Grand Prince Constantine. This violent man, the terror of those around him, was often very kind to the little artist; he accepted the dedication very graciously, and desired Frederic to play the piece to him. Fortunately for the young composer the Prince liked it, and he walked up and down while it was being played, smiling and beating time with the utmost complacency. He had the March[4] scored, and it was often performed at the military parade, in the Saxon Square.
Frederic occasionally improvised in the drawing room of the Grand Princess. Noticing his habit of casting up his eyes and gazing at the ceiling, the Prince said to him: “Why do you always look upwards, boy? do you see notes up there?” Probably Chopin saw nothing around him when listening to the voice of his genius.
EXTENDED AND DISSEVERED CHORDS. From contemporary observers we learn with what perseverance he laboured to overcome the technical difficulties of the pianoforte. Impressed by the good effect of a chord with the dominant in the higher octave, but unable to play it with his small hand, he endeavoured to produce the desired expansion by a mechanical contrivance of his own manufacture, which he kept between his fingers even during the night. He was not led to use this aid by a desire of fame or of forestalling others, in inventing and surmounting new difficulties, but because he perceived the difference between a slurred and a detached chord. These chords became a characteristic feature in Chopinʼs compositions. At first they were thought almost impossible for systematic use, but players grew accustomed to them, and now no pianist finds them unsuited to the capacities of the hand.
The refinement and elegance of Chopinʼs musical ideas, and his obvious desire for the frequent use of extended chords, already reveal his peculiar penchant for new, dissevered chords. Perceiving Fredericʼs uncommon talent for composition, his father had him instructed in counterpoint, as far as was compatible with his preparation for the Warsaw Lyceum, not having as yet entertained the idea of making him an artist. Nicholas Chopin made a most fortunate choice in asking his friend, Elsner, to become Fredericʼs instructor. Teacher and pupil were united till death, in a pure and faithful friendship, such as only the noblest minds can feel. When people remarked to Elsner, as they frequently did, that Frederic under-rated and set aside the customary rules and universal laws of music, and listened only to the dictates of his own fancy, the worthy director of the Conservatoire would reply: “Leave him alone, he does not follow the common way because his talents are uncommon; he does not adhere to the old method because he has one of his own, and his works will reveal an originality hitherto unknown.” This prophecy has been fully fulfilled. A less discerning teacher might have hindered and repressed his pupilʼs efforts, and so quenched the desire for loftier flights. To the astonishment of his friends, Frederic excelled in everything he undertook, and they formed the most brilliant expectations of his future. Extraordinary vivacity of temperament prompted him to incessant activity, and sharpened his innate, irrepressible, and versatile humour. What innumerable tricks he was continually playing on his sisters, schoolfellows, and even on persons of riper years! His youngest sister, Emily, was an active assistant in these merry pranks.
The birthdays of his parents and intimate friends were frequently celebrated by theatrical representations, in which Frederic usually took the most active part. The eminent dramatic artist of that time, Albert Piasecki, who acted as manager at these representations, considered that Chopin, on account of his presence of mind, excellent declamation, and capacity for rapid facial changes, was born to be a great actor. Fredericʼs acting, indeed, often astonished the best connoisseurs. He frequently saved a piece by improvising his own and other parts, when one of the players forgot his rôle, or the prompter failed to assist. It is well known that his talent for musical improvisation contributed in no small degree in after years to his fame.
Having, under the excellent guidance of Elsner, mastered the technicalities of music, Chopin could improvise to an unlimited extent on any given theme, producing the most graceful changes, and drawing the most marvellous effects from the keyboard. In these improvisations, and particularly in those of a later period, Chopin showed himself a true poet, and this explains why poets admired him so ardently and felt inspired by his playing. Those who heard Chopin at such times say that his finest compositions are but a reflex and echo HIS ONE-ACT COMEDY IN VERSE. of his improvisations. When Frederic was fifteen, and Emily eleven, they wrote in honour of their fatherʼs birthday, a one-act comedy, in verse, entitled: “The Mistake; or, the Imaginary Rogue.” Frederic, Isabella, and Emily took the principal parts, the others were divided among the boarders. The comedy is too ephemeral and näive for quotation, but it displayed the intelligence of the youthful authors, and their command of language. In the same year (1824) Frederic entered the fourth class at the Lyceum, and although he frequently indulged in his harmless and always witty pranks, he was one of the best and most talented pupils. He used to make his fellow students laugh by caricaturing the professor of history discoursing on great celebrities. In a lucky moment, he caricatured the director, Mons. Linde, to the life, but unfortunately the drawing fell into the directorʼs hands. This worthy man, who was indulgent to everyone, and especially to the young, returned the paper to Chopin, without a word, having written on it, “the likeness is well drawn.” For a long time Frederic took a delight in catching the ludicrous side of a characteristic figure, and caricaturing it.
He spent his first holidays in Mazovia, at the village of Szafarnia, which belonged to the Dziewanowski estate, where he soon formed a warm and lasting friendship with the children of this distinguished family. To any boy brought up in a city, a stay of several weeks in the country is a time full of freedom and delight; and how infinitely greater would be the enjoyment of a gifted boy like Chopin when, unburdened by school exercises, he can wander through wood and meadow, dreaming of fairies and wood-nymphs. Frederic, who was not at all fond of long, fatiguing walks, loved to lie under a tree, and indulge in beautiful day-dreams. Instead of an ordinary correspondence it occurred to him to bring out a little periodical under the title of the Kurjer Szafarski, on the model of the Warsaw Courier, a paper then published in the capital. Among the memorials of Frederic, collected by the family are two numbers of this little journal, for the year 1824. At the beginning of the first number we read: “On July 15th, M. Pichon (a name Frederic assumed) appeared at the musical assembly at Szafarnia, at which were present several persons, big and little: he played Kalkbrennerʼs Concerto, but this did not produce such a furore, especially among the youthful hearers, as the song which the same gentleman rendered.” It happened that a great many Jews were at that time in the neighbouring village of Oborów (the property of M. Romocki) to buy grain. Frederic invited some of “HE PLAYS LIKE A BORN JEW.” them to his room, and played to them a kind of Jewish wedding March, called “Majufes.” His performance excited such enthusiasm among his guests that they not only began to dance, but earnestly begged him to come to an approaching Jewish marriage, and give them some more of his exquisite music. “He plays,” said the delighted Israelites, “like a born Jew.”[5]