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Updated: May 3, 2025
Liszt felt this attraction at one time and it is whispered that Chopin was jealous of him. Pouf! the woman who could conquer Franz Liszt in his youth must have been a sorceress. He, too, was versatile. In 1838, Sand's boy Maurice being ill, she proposed a visit to Majorca.
Sand's room was also ornamented with texts, but they had apparently been selected at random, and they certainly hung that way. The piety of the place seemed at the control of an older infant, who sat on the floor and played with his father's regimental cap. On the other side of the curtain Captain Sand audibly washed himself and brushed his hair. "What kind of meetin' did you have?" asked Mrs.
Dick Sand, incapable of controlling himself longer, rushed, cutlass in hand, to the place occupied by Harris. Harris was no longer there, and his horse had disappeared with him. A sort of revelation took place in Dick Sand's mind. He was not where he had believed he was! So it was not on the American coast that the "Pilgrim" had gone ashore!
Sand's blowin' up from the lake and gits in their eyes, too. Ain't used to it yet. Come on." There were hollyhocks in front of the house and among them I stood waiting for the old man to open the door. "Susan," he said, as he stepped into the room, "this here world this one right here is as full of surprises as a chicken is with with I don't know what.
But this apathetic beauty had either more moral courage or more stupidity than I, and was plainly terribly indifferent about the catastrophe. I've sometimes thought my struggles and sinkings amused her cruel serenity. Bella ma stupida! I experienced, at last, the sort of pique with which George Sand's hero apostrophises la derniere Aldini. Yet I could not think her stupid.
A sweeper and a cook they did with; it would surprise the people in this country, who couldn't get along with less than twenty, she often said. Mrs. Sand's tone was casual; her manner had a quality somewhat aggressively democratic.
Another day the Price of Coburg, who during the King of Prussia's stay at the baths of Alexander, was living in the house of Sand's parents, was galloping home with four horses when he came suddenly upon young Karl in a gateway; he could not escape either on the right or the left, without running the risk of being crushed between the wall and the wheels, and the coachman could not, when going at such a pace, hold in his horses: Sand flung himself on his face, and the carriage passed over him without his receiving so much as a single scratch either from the horses or the wheels.
We have, then, the choice of two explanations of the rupture: George Sand's, that it was caused by the disagreement of Chopin and her son; and Franchomme's, that it was brought about by Chopin's disregard of George Sand's injunction not to receive her daughter and son-in-law.
L'autre, her latest notable stage success, brings us down to 1870, when it was acted at the Gymnase, Madame Sarah Bernhardt impersonating the heroine. This not very agreeable play is derived, with material alterations, from Madame Sand's agreeable novel La Confession d'une jeune Fille, published in 1864.
There is one statement in George Sand's above-quoted narrative which it is difficult to reconcile with other statements in "Un Hiver a Majorque" and in her and Chopin's letters. From this, I think, we may conclude that it must have taken place after January 15. But, then, how could Chopin have composed on that occasion a Prelude included in a work the manuscript of which he sent away on the lath?
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