This time (July, 1829) our artist was to go to Vienna with some young friends, and he was highly delighted at the prospect, although his father and all his friends urged him to appear publicly as a pianist in that musical city.
With the innate modesty which never left him even after his greatest triumphs, he exclaimed, “Here I have been leniently judged by kind-hearted compatriots; but what am I to expect in a city which can boast of having heard a Haydn, a Mozart, and a Beethoven?”
A few months before this journey Frederic had become acquainted with Hummel, who had stayed some time in Warsaw, and given concerts there. Hummel[24] had acquired, by his very successful tour, the reputation of being the greatest living pianist. Chopin was acquainted with his compositions, and thought very highly of them. He greatly admired his classical style of playing, formed on the best models; yet, exacting as the young artist was towards himself, he could say, without vanity, that, in technical execution, he was not very inferior to the older master.
Fredericʼs chief desire was to become acquainted with the beautiful, musical Vienna, to hear all he could that was new to him, and, if possible, to have intercourse with the masters of his art. He never dreamt that the latter, dazzled by his extraordinary genius, would be the very people who would press him to appear in public.
With a heart full of hope for himself and fervent blessings for his family, Chopin, in company with his friends Celinski, Hube, and Franz Maciejowski (the last named a nephew of the famous investigator of Slavonic law), left his beloved Warsaw.
After visiting Cracow, the old capital of the Piasts and the Jagellons and Ojcow, the so-called Polish Switzerland, the travellers arrived on July 31st at Vienna.
FIRST LETTER FROM VIENNA. The following is a faithful transcription of the letters Chopin wrote from that city:—
Vienna, August 1st, 1829.
My dearly loved Parents
and Sisters,
We arrived here yesterday well and in good spirits, and I may say without fatigue, and so without discomfort. We took a private carriage at Cracow, in which we were very comfortable. We were able to enjoy to perfection the picturesque scenery of Galicia, Upper Silesia, and Moravia, for the clouds had been amiable enough to lay the dust with a slight shower.
But before I speak of Vienna I must tell you about our journey to Ojcow. On Sunday afternoon we hired a four-horse country waggon, such as they use at Cracow, which cost us four thalers. We dashed merrily and swiftly along to Ojcow, intending to put up at Herr Indykʼs house, which all tourists praise, and where Fräulein Tanska[25] stayed. But, as ill-luck would have it, Herr Indyk lived a full mile outside the town; our coachman did not know the way, and drove us into a little brook, as clear and silvery as those in the fairy tales. Right and left were walls of rock, and we did not find our way out of the labyrinth till nearly 9 oʼclock, when two passing peasants good naturedly conducted us to Herr Indykʼs. Wearied and wet through, we at length reached the wished for house, and were very kindly received. Although not expecting visitors at so late an hour, Herr Indyk made no trouble about giving us a room in the little house, built on purpose for tourists. Sister Isabella[26] Fräulein Tanska had been in it only a little while before.
My companions changed their clothes and gathered round the stove, in which our host had, meanwhile, lighted a fire. Wet above the knees, I crouched in a corner, considering what I had best do. Seeing the mistress go into the next room for linen for our beds, I instinctively followed her, and finding on the table a pile of woollen Cracow caps (they are double woven), I bought one, tore it in half, wrapped my feet in it, sat before the fire and drank a small glass of red wine. I thus escaped a severe cold. We laughed and talked a little while over our adventure, then went to bed and slept soundly.
Frederic, who had a sharp eye and a keen ear for all around him, goes on to describe the neighbourhood of Ojcow, the strangely-formed sand rocks, the black grotto, and the Kingʼs grotto, in which tradition says, that King Lokietek[27] took refuge from CHARMED WITH CRACOW. his enemies, at the end of the 13th century. Frederic was very enthusiastic over everything he saw, but Cracow and the neighbourhood appear to have had a special charm for him. He gives an account, also, of the Vienna picture gallery, to which he had at first only paid a flying visit. We give, unabridged, the following letters to his family:—