severe school of experience. Unfortunately for
Chopin, he had neither the stuff nor the stomach for
fighting. He shrank back at the slightest touch
like a sensitive plant. He could only thrive
in the sunshine of prosperity and protected against
all those inimical influences and obstacles that cause
hardier natures to put forth their strength, and indeed
are necessary for the full unfolding of all their
capabilities. Chopin and Titus Woyciechowski put
up at the hotel Stadt London, but, finding the charges
too high, they decamped and stayed at the hotel Goldenes
Lamm till the lodgings which they had taken were evacuated
by the English admiral then in possession of them.
From Chopin’s first letter after his arrival
in the Austrian capital his parents had the satisfaction
of learning that their son was in excellent spirits,
and that his appetite left nothing to be desired,
especially when sharpened by good news from home.
In his perambulations he took particular note of the
charming Viennese girls, and at the Wilde Mann, where
he was in the habit of dining, he enjoyed immensely
a dish of Strudeln. The only drawback to the
blissfulness of his then existence was a swollen nose,
caused by the change of air, a circumstance which
interfered somewhat with his visiting operations.
He was generally well received by those on whom he
called with letters of introduction. In one of
the two exceptional cases he let it be understood
that, having a letter of introduction from the Grand
Duke Constantine to the Russian Ambassador, he was
not so insignificant a person as to require the patronage
of a banker; and in the other case he comforted himself
with the thought that a time would come when things
would be changed.
In the letter above alluded to (December 1, 1830)
Chopin speaks of one of the projected concerts as
if it were to take place shortly; that is to say,
he is confident that, such being his pleasure, this
will be the natural course of events. His Warsaw
acquaintance Orlowski, the perpetrator of mazurkas
on his concerto themes, was accompanying the violinist
Lafont on a concert-tour. Chopin does not envy
him the honour:—
Will the time come [he writes] when
Lafont will accompany me?
Does this question sound arrogant?
But, God willing, this may
come to pass some day.
Wurfel has conversations with him about the arrangements
for a concert, and Graff, the pianoforte-maker, advises
him to give it in the Landstandische Saal, the finest
and most convenient hall in Vienna. Chopin even
asks his people which of his Concertos he should play,
the one in F or the one in E minor. But disappointments
were not long in coming. One of his first visits
was to Haslinger, the publisher of the Variations on
“La ci darem la mano,” to whom he had
sent also a sonata and another set of variations.
Haslinger received him very kindly, but would print
neither the one nor the other work. No wonder
the composer thought the cunning publisher wished