Frederick Chopin, as a Man and Musician — Volume 1 — Reading Companion

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Niecks, Frederick, 1845-1924 Project Gutenberg 2003
Chopin, Frédéric, 1810-1849; Composers -- Biography Readers of public-domain and historical texts
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Frederick Niecks' 1888 biography of Chopin, Volume 1, examines the composer's early life through letters and documents, emphasizing his method of presenting facts alongside interpretations, with a focus on Chopin's social circles in Vienna and Poland.
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FREDERICK CHOPIN'S ANCESTORS.--HIS FATHER NICHOLAS CHOPIN'S BIRTH, YOUTH, ARRIVAL AND EARLY VICISSITUDES IN POLAND, AND MARRIAGE.--BIRTH AND EARLY INFANCY OF FREDERICK CHOPIN.--HIS PARENTS AND SISTERS.

GOETHE playfully describes himself as indebted to his father for his frame and steady guidance of life, to his mother for his happy disposition and love of story-telling, to his grandfather for his devotion to the fair sex, to his grandmother for his love of finery. Schopenhauer reduces the law of heredity to the simple formula that man has his moral nature, his character, his inclinations, and his heart from his father, and the quality and tendency of his intellect from his mother. Buckle, on the other hand, questions hereditary transmission of mental qualities altogether. Though little disposed to doubt with the English historian, yet we may hesitate to assent to the proposition of the German philosopher; the adoption of a more scientific doctrine, one that recognises a process of compensation, neutralisation, and accentuation, would probably bring us nearer the truth. But whatever the complicated working of the law of heredity may be, there can be no doubt that the tracing of a remarkable man's pedigree is always an interesting and rarely an entirely idle occupation. Pursuing such an inquiry with regard to Frederick Chopin, we find ourselves, however, soon at the end of our tether. This is the more annoying, as there are circumstances that particularly incite our curiosity. The "Journal de Rouen" of December 1, 1849, contains an article, probably by Amedee de Mereaux, in which it is stated that Frederick Chopin was descended from the French family Chopin d'Arnouville, of which one member, a victim of the revocation of the Edict of Nantes, had taken refuge in Poland. [Footnote: In scanning the Moniteur of 1835, I came across several prefects and sous-prefects of the name of Choppin d'Arnouville. (There are two communes of the name of Arnouville, both are in the departement of the Seine et Oise-- the one in the arrondissement Mantes, the other in the arrondissement Pontoise. This latter is called Arnouville-les- Gonesse.) I noticed also a number of intimations concerning plain Chopins and Choppins who served their country as maires and army officers. Indeed, the name of Chopin is by no means uncommon in France, and more than one individual of that name has illustrated it by his achievements--to wit: The jurist Rene Chopin or Choppin (1537--1606), the litterateur Chopin (born about 1800), and the poet Charles-Auguste Chopin (1811--1844).] Although this confidently-advanced statement is supported by the inscription on the composer's tombstone in Pere Lachaise, which describes his father as a French refugee, both the Catholicism of the latter and contradictory accounts of his extraction caution us not to put too much faith in its authenticity. M. A. Szulc, the author of a Polish book on Chopin and his works, has been told that Nicholas Chopin, the father of Frederick, was the natural son of a Polish nobleman, who, having come with King Stanislas Leszczynski to Lorraine, adopted there the name of Chopin. From Karasowski we learn nothing of Nicholas Chopin's parentage. But as he was a friend of the Chopin family, and from them got much of his information, this silence might with equal force be adduced for and against the correctness of Szulc's story, which in itself is nowise improbable. The only point that could strike one as strange is the change of name. But would not the death of the Polish ruler and the consequent lapse of Lorraine to France afford some inducement for the discarding of an unpronounceable foreign name? It must, however, not be overlooked that this story is but a hearsay, relegated to a modest foot-note, and put forward without mention of the source whence it is derived. [FOOTNOTE: Count Wodzinski, who leaves Nicholas Chopin's descent an open question, mentions a variant of Szulc's story, saying that some biographers pretended that Nicholas Chopin was descended from one of the name of Szop, a soldier, valet, or heyduc (reitre, valet, ou heiduque) in the service of Stanislas Leszczinski, whom he followed to Lorraine.] Indeed, until we get possession of indisputable proofs, it will be advisable to disregard these more or less fabulous reports altogether, and begin with the first well-ascertained fact--namely, Nicholas Chopin's birth, which took place at Nancy, in Lorraine, on the 17th of August, 1770. Of his youth nothing is known except that, like other young men of his country, he conceived a desire to visit Poland. Polish descent would furnish a satisfactory explanation of Nicholas' sentiments in regard to Poland at this time and subsequently, but an equally satisfactory explanation can be found without having recourse to such a hazardous assumption.

In 1735 Stanislas Leszczynski, who had been King of Poland from 1704 to 1709, became Duke of Lorraine and Bar, and reigned over the Duchies till 1766, when an accident--some part of his dress taking fire--put an end to his existence. As Stanislas was a wise, kind-hearted, and benevolent prince, his subjects not only loved him as long as he lived, but also cherished his memory after his death, when their country had been united to France. The young, we may be sure, would often hear their elders speak of the good times of Duke Stanislas, of the Duke (the philosophe bienfaisant) himself, and of the strange land and people he came from. But Stanislas, besides being an excellent prince, was also an amiable, generous gentleman, who, whilst paying due attention to the well-being of his new subjects, remained to the end of his days a true Pole. From this circumstance it may be easily inferred that the Court of Stanislas proved a great attraction to his countrymen, and that Nancy became a chief halting-place of Polish travellers on their way to and from Paris. Of course, not all the Poles that had settled in the Duchies during the Duke's reign left the country after his demise, nor did their friends from the fatherland altogether cease to visit them in their new home. Thus a connection between the two countries was kept up, and the interest taken by the people of the west in the fortunes of the people in the east was not allowed to die. Moreover, were not the Academie de Stanislas founded by the Duke, the monument erected to his memory, and the square named after him, perpetual reminders to the inhabitants of Nancy and the visitors to that town?

Nicholas Chopin came to Warsaw in or about the year 1787. Karasowski relates in the first and the second German edition of his biography of Frederick Chopin that the Staroscina [FOOTNOTE: The wife of a starosta (vide p. 7.)] Laczynska made the acquaintance of the latter's father, and engaged him as tutor to her children; but in the later Polish edition he abandons this account in favour of one given by Count Frederick Skarbek in his Pamietniki (Memoirs). According to this most trustworthy of procurable witnesses (why he is the most trustworthy will be seen presently), Nicholas Chopin's migration to Poland came about in this way. A Frenchman had established in Warsaw a manufactory of tobacco, which, as the taking of snuff was then becoming more and more the fashion, began to flourish in so high a degree that he felt the need of assistance. He proposed, therefore, to his countryman, Nicholas Chopin, to come to him and take in hand the book-keeping, a proposal which was readily accepted.

The first impression of the young Lorrainer on entering the land of his dreams cannot have been altogether of a pleasant nature. For in the summer of 1812, when, we are told, the condition of the people had been infinitely ameliorated by the Prussian and Russian governments, M. de Pradt, Napoleon's ambassador, found the nation in a state of semi-barbarity, agriculture in its infancy, the soil parched like a desert, the animals stunted, the people, although of good stature, in a state of extreme poverty, the towns built of wood, the houses filled with vermin, and the food revolting. This picture will not escape the suspicion of being overdrawn. But J.G. Seume, who was by no means over- squeamish, and whom experience had taught the meaning of "to rough it," asserts, in speaking of Poland in 1805, that, Warsaw and a few other places excepted, the dunghill was in most houses literally and without exaggeration the cleanest spot, and the only one where one could stand without loathing. But if the general aspect of things left much to be desired from a utilitarian point of view, its strangeness and picturesqueness would not fail to compensate an imaginative youth for the want of order and comfort. The strong contrast of wealth and poverty, of luxury and distress, that gave to the whole country so melancholy an appearance, was, as it were, focussed in its capital. Mr. Coxe, who visited Warsaw not long before Nicholas Chopin's arrival there, says:--

The streets are spacious, but ill-paved; the churches and public buildings large and magnificent, the palaces of the nobility are numerous and splendid; but the greatest part of the houses, especially the suburbs, are mean and ill- constructed wooden hovels.

What, however, struck a stranger most, was the throngs of humanity that enlivened the streets and squares of Warsaw, the capital of a nation composed of a medley of Poles, Lithuanians, Red and White Russians, Germans, Muscovites, Jews, and Wallachians, and the residence of a numerous temporary and permanent foreign population. How our friend from quiet Nancy-- which long ago had been deserted by royalty and its train, and where literary luminaries, such as Voltaire, Madame du Chatelet, Saint Lambert, &c., had ceased to make their fitful appearances-- must have opened his eyes when this varied spectacle unfolded itself before him.

The streets of stately breadth, formed of palaces in the finest Italian taste and wooden huts which at every moment threatened to tumble down on the heads of the inmates; in these buildings Asiatic pomp and Greenland dirtin strange union, an ever-bustling population, forming, like a masked procession, the most striking contrasts. Long-bearded Jews, and monks in all kinds of habits; nuns of the strictest discipline, entirely veiled and wrapped in meditation; and in the large squares troops of young Polesses in light-coloured silk mantles engaged in conversation; venerable old Polish gentlemen with moustaches, caftan, girdle, sword, and yellow and red boots; and the new generation in the most incroyable Parisian fashion. Turks, Greeks, Russians, Italians, and French in an ever-changing throng; moreover, an exceedingly tolerant police that interfered nowise with the popular amusements, so that in squares and streets there moved about incessantly Pulchinella theatres, dancing bears, camels, and monkeys, before which the most elegant carriages as well as porters stopped and stood gaping.

Thus pictures J. E. Hitzig, the biographer of E. Th. A. Hoffmann, and himself a sojourner in Warsaw, the life of the Polish capital in 1807. When Nicholas Chopin saw it first the spectacle in the streets was even more stirring, varied, and brilliant; for then Warsaw was still the capital of an independent state, and the pending and impending political affairs brought to it magnates from all the principal courts of Europe, who vied with each other in the splendour of their carriages and horses, and in the number and equipment of their attendants.

In the introductory part of this work I have spoken of the misfortunes that befel Poland and culminated in the first partition. But the buoyancy of the Polish character helped the nation to recover sooner from this severe blow than could have been expected. Before long patriots began to hope that the national disaster might be turned into a blessing. Many circumstances favoured the realisation of these hopes. Prussia, on discovering that her interests no longer coincided with those of her partners of 1772, changed sides, and by-and-by even went the length of concluding a defensive and offensive alliance with the Polish Republic. She, with England and other governments, backed Poland against Russia and Austria. Russia, moreover, had to turn her attention elsewhere. At the time of Nicholas Chopin's arrival, Poland was dreaming of a renascence of her former greatness, and everyone was looking forward with impatience to the assembly of the Diet which was to meet the following year. Predisposed by sympathy, he was soon drawn into the current of excitement and enthusiasm that was surging around him. Indeed, what young soul possessed of any nobleness could look with indifference on a nation struggling for liberty and independence. As he took a great interest in the debates and transactions of the Diet, he became more and more acquainted with the history, character, condition, and needs of the country, and this stimulated him to apply himself assiduously to the study of the national language, in order to increase, by means of this faithful mirror and interpreter of a people's heart and mind, his knowledge of these things. And now I must ask the reader to bear patiently the infliction of a brief historical summary, which I would most willingly spare him, were I not prevented by two strong reasons. In the first place, the vicissitudes of Nicholas Chopin's early life in Poland are so closely bound up with, or rather so much influenced by, the political events, that an intelligible account of the former cannot be given without referring to the latter; and in the second place, those same political events are such important factors in the moulding of the national character, that, if we wish to understand it, they ought not to be overlooked.

The Diet which assembled at the end of 1788, in order to prevent the use or rather abuse of the liberum veto, soon formed itself into a confederation, abolished in 1789 the obnoxious Permanent Council, and decreed in 1791, after much patriotic oratory and unpatriotic obstruction, the famous constitution of the 3rd of May, regarded by the Poles up to this day with loving pride, and admired and praised at the time by sovereigns and statesmen, Fox and Burke among them. Although confirming most of the privileges of the nobles, the constitution nevertheless bore in it seeds of good promise. Thus, for instance, the crown was to pass after the death of the reigning king to the Elector of Saxony, and become thenceforth hereditary; greater power was given to the king and ministers, confederations and the liberum veto were declared illegal, the administration of justice was ameliorated, and some attention was paid to the rights and wrongs of the third estate and peasantry. But the patriots who already rejoiced in the prospect of a renewal of Polish greatness and prosperity had counted without the proud selfish aristocrats, without Russia, always ready to sow and nurture discord. Hence new troubles--the confederation of Targowica, Russian demands for the repeal of the constitution and unconditional submission to the Empress Catharine II, betrayal by Prussia, invasion, war, desertion of the national cause by their own king and his joining the conspirators of Targowica, and then the second partition of Poland (October 14, 1793), implying a further loss of territory and population. Now, indeed, the events were hastening towards the end of the sad drama, the finis poloniae. After much hypocritical verbiage and cruel coercion and oppression by Russia and Prussia, more especially by the former, outraged Poland rose to free itself from the galling yoke, and fought under the noble Kosciuszko and other gallant generals with a bravery that will for ever live in the memory of men. But however glorious the attempt, it was vain. Having three such powers as Russia, Prussia, and Austria against her, Poland, unsupported by allies and otherwise hampered, was too weak to hold her own. Without inquiring into the causes and the faults committed by her commanders, without dwelling on or even enumerating the vicissitudes of the struggle, I shall pass on to the terrible closing scene of the drama--the siege and fall of Praga, the suburb of Warsaw, and the subsequent massacre. The third partition (October 24, 1795), in which each of the three powers took her share, followed as a natural consequence, and Poland ceased to exist as an independent state. Not, however, for ever; for when in 1807 Napoleon, after crushing Prussia and defeating Russia, recast at Tilsit to a great extent the political conformation of Europe, bullying King Frederick William III and flattering the Emperor Alexander, he created the Grand Duchy of Warsaw, over which he placed as ruler the then King of Saxony.

Now let us see how Nicholas Chopin fared while these whirlwinds passed over Poland. The threatening political situation and the consequent general insecurity made themselves at once felt in trade, indeed soon paralysed it. What more particularly told on the business in which the young Lorrainer was engaged was the King's desertion of the national cause, which induced the great and wealthy to leave Warsaw and betake themselves for shelter to more retired and safer places. Indeed, so disastrous was the effect of these occurrences on the Frenchman's tobacco manufactory that it had to be closed. In these circumstances Nicholas Chopin naturally thought of returning home, but sickness detained him. When he had recovered his health, Poland was rising under Kosciuszko. He then joined the national guard, in which he was before long promoted to the rank of captain. On the 5th of November, 1794, he was on duty at Praga, and had not his company been relieved a few hours before the fall of the suburb, he would certainly have met there his death. Seeing that all was lost he again turned his thoughts homewards, when once more sickness prevented him from executing his intention. For a time he tried to make a living by teaching French, but ere long accepted an engagement as tutor in the family--then living in the country--of the Staroscina Laczynska, who meeting him by chance had been favourably impressed by his manners and accomplishments. In passing we may note that among his four pupils (two girls and two boys) was one, Mary, who afterwards became notorious by her connection with Napoleon I., and by the son that sprang from this connection, Count Walewski, the minister of Napoleon III. At the beginning of this century we find Nicholas Chopin at Zelazowa Wola, near Sochaczew, in the house of the Countess Skarbek, as tutor to her son Frederick. It was there that he made the acquaintance of Justina Krzyzanowska, a young lady of noble but poor family, whom he married in the year 1806, and who became the mother of four children, three daughters and one son, the latter being no other than Frederick Chopin, the subject of this biography. The position of Nicholas Chopin in the house of the Countess must have been a pleasant one, for ever after there seems to have existed a friendly relation between the two families. His pupil, Count Frederick Skarbek, who prosecuted his studies at Warsaw and Paris, distinguished himself subsequently as a poet, man of science, professor at the University of Warsaw, state official, philanthropist, and many-sided author--more especially as a politico--economical writer. When in his Memoirs the Count looks back on his youth, he remembers gratefully and with respect his tutor, speaking of him in highly appreciative terms. In teaching, Nicholas Chopin's chief aim was to form his pupils into useful, patriotic citizens; nothing was farther from his mind than the desire or unconscious tendency to turn them into Frenchmen. And now approaches the time when the principal personage makes his appearance on the stage.

Frederick Chopin, the only son and the third of the four children of Nicholas and Justina Chopin, was born on February 22, 1810,

[FOOTNOTE: See Preface, p. xii. In the earlier editions the date given was March 1,1809, as in the biography by Karasowski, with whom agree the earlier J. Fontana (Preface to Chopin's posthumous works.--1855), C. Sowinski (Les musiciens polonais et slaves.-- 1857), and the writer of the Chopin article in Mendel's Musikalisches Conversations-Lexikon (1872). According to M. A. Szulc (Fryderyk Chopin.--1873) and the inscription on the memorial (erected in 1880) in the Holy Cross Church at Warsaw, the composer was born on March 2, 1809. The monument in Pere Lachaise, at Paris, bears the date of Chopin's death, but not that of his birth. Felis, in his Biographie universelle des musiciens, differs widely from these authorities. The first edition (1835--1844) has only the year--1810; the second edition (1861--1865) adds month and day--February 8.]

in a mean little house at Zelazowa Wola, a village about twenty- eight English miles from Warsaw belonging to the Countess Skarbek.

Frederick Niecks opens his biography of Chopin with a frank admission of the biographer's constraints: unlike a novelist, he is "fettered by the subject-matter." His solution is to place before the reader both the facts he collected and the conclusions he drew, allowing readers to judge for themselves. This principle shapes the entire volume, which draws heavily on Chopin's own letters and contemporary accounts.

The excerpts reveal a work that moves between detailed social chronicle—Chopin's rounds of dinners, coffee-houses, and soirees in Vienna—and careful evaluation of earlier biographical sources, such as Liszt's "Frederic Chopin," which Niecks praises as a psychological study but faults for its inaccuracies in dates and events.

A Biographer's Candid Method

Niecks' preface lays out his approach with unusual transparency. He acknowledges that a biographer must compromise between the desirable and the necessary, and that presenting material in a "perfect, beautiful form" would come "at a terrible loss, at a sacrifice of truth and trustworthiness." Instead, he aims to let readers see the subject "in all its bearings, with all its pros and cons." This is not mere modesty; it is a structural choice that governs the book. Niecks frequently quotes letters at length, then adds his own commentary, distinguishing his voice from the sources. For example, after reproducing Chopin's description of his daily routine in Vienna—rising late, walking on the Glacis, dining at a student restaurant—Niecks remarks that "there was no occasion to fear that Chopin would kill himself with too hard work." The effect is a layered narrative where the composer's own words and the biographer's assessments coexist.

Chopin's Vienna: A Social Web

The letters from 1830–1831 paint a vivid picture of Chopin's social life in Vienna. Niecks catalogs more than forty names of families and individuals with whom Chopin had personal intercourse, noting that many were Polish or had Polish connections. The composer dined at the homes of Count Hussarzewski, Countess Rosalia Rzewuska, Madame Weyberheim, and the Beyer family, where the wife bore the name Constantia—a detail Niecks flags with a parenthetical reminder to the reader. At one soiree, Chopin "refused to play" despite the hostess's musical guests, instead dancing a cotillon and leaving early. At another, he stayed with the violinist Slavik until two in the morning. These episodes are not merely anecdotal; they illustrate the tension between Chopin's public role as a pianist and his private inclinations, a theme Niecks develops through the accumulation of such scenes.

The Texture of Daily Life

Niecks' attention to routine and setting gives the biography a distinctive texture. Chopin's own words describe a day that begins in a dressing-gown until noon, followed by a walk with Herr Leibenfrost, dinner at a restaurant frequented by university students, coffee-house visits, calls, and evening soirees. The composer writes home: "About eleven or twelve (but never later) I return home, play, laugh, read, lie down, put out the light, sleep, and dream of you." Niecks uses such passages to ground his analysis in concrete detail. He also notes the recurrence of certain locations—the Glacis, the coffee-houses, the houses of Polish expatriates—creating a sense of place that anchors the narrative. The medical celebrity Dr. Malfatti, who had attended Beethoven, embraces Chopin "as heartily as if I had been a relation of his," and becomes a frequent host. These recurring figures and settings build a world around the composer.

Movement Between Sources and Scenes

The volume's structure alternates between documentary evidence and Niecks' interpretive commentary. A typical section might open with a long extract from a letter, then shift to the biographer's summary of events, then to a critical assessment of another source. For instance, Niecks discusses Liszt's book at length, praising its "psychological study" and "aesthetical study" while noting that it "records few dates and events, and these few are for the most part incorrect." He then moves to Chopin's own correspondence, which supplies the corrective detail. This back-and-forth creates a rhythm of presentation and evaluation. The excerpts also show Niecks moving between different scales: from the broad social canvas of Vienna's Polish community to the intimate scene of Chopin playing and dancing mazurkas at the Beyer home. The effect is a biography that feels both comprehensive and granular.

Readers approaching this first volume should expect a work that prioritizes evidence over narrative smoothness. Niecks does not smooth over contradictions or fill gaps with speculation; he presents the material and lets the reader weigh it. The letters are the book's backbone, and Niecks' own voice serves as a guide rather than a filter. For those interested in the raw materials of Chopin's early career—his social world, his habits, his own words—this biography offers a rich, if deliberately unfinished, portrait.

Niecks lets Chopin breathe through his letters, a young man finding his footing between Warsaw and Vienna. That quiet, unhurried unfolding of a life reminds me of how Famous composers and their works, Vol. 2 — Text and Context also lets its subjects sit with us, patient and human. The intimacy of those pages feels like a hand resting on a piano lid.

William Lee
1 month ago

Isaac Williams
1 week ago

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    Patrick Martin - 3 weeks ago
    The biographical depth is impressive, providing rich context for Chopin's life and music. However, the prose can be overly florid at times, and the focus on his social life occasionally overshadows musical analysis. Still, a solid choice for those seeking a comprehensive account of the composer's early years.

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    Jacqueline Johnson - 3 weeks ago
    This beautifully detailed biography offers a deeply human portrait of Chopin, weaving his personal struggles with his musical genius. The author's meticulous research brings 19th-century Europe to life, and the analysis of Chopin's compositions is both insightful and accessible. A must-read for any classical music lover who wants to understand the man behind the nocturnes.

  • ...
    Leah Rocha - 1 week ago
    While the research is commendable, this volume suffers from an excessive reliance on romanticized anecdotes. The writing feels dated and verbose, and the musical discussions often lack technical precision. It may appeal to casual readers, but serious musicians will find it unsatisfying and overly sentimental.


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