The Saint Paul globe. (St. Paul, Minn.) 1896-1905, 1899-06-25
PADEREWSKI PANIED
by THE CONSTANTLY RECURRING
RUMORS THAT HE, Is TO BE
MARRIED
TISSUES OF GossIPs' BRAINS


Set Afioat the Past Three Weeks
Regarding His Wedding or Conn
ing WeddfnE-LOVes Only His
Piano and the Girl Wife Who
Died In Giving Birth to His Boy.
Ignace Jan Paderewski, the prince of
pianiStS, has ended the rumor that he is
married or about to be married. He will
never marry. He has declared 1t in ac-
cents of positiveness and pain that can
not be mistaken. The idle gossips who
have circulated reports of secret or pros
pective marriage of the great musician
are sienced The persistent ghost of
matrimonial rumors has been laid for
ever, says the New York Journal.
Twice within two weeks the story has
come across the Atlantic that Paderew-
ski was married or about to marry. First
the cable carries the tidings that he had
been married since December to Nine
GorsN, the former wife of the famous
Eiolinist. No sooner was that story laid
to rest by an authoritative denial than
another came across the wires. This
time he was to wed Polish girl eigh-
teen years old. And now comes a cable
from Monsieur Goerlitz, Paderewski's
European manager, to William Tredbar,
his American manager, calling the second
report q foolish fiction as barren of fact
as the first
Paoerewsh will never marry. He so
declared in Paris last week. He gave
his reason
''Why should I marry?" he exclaimed.
81 who have a wife there?" and he
pointed to heaven. There? She is here.
She is with me always. I would die if it
We're not for her presence"
The pianist remembered that he was
talking TO his manager and saying what
all the world would know He turned
his back abruptly and said: Pardon me.
1 never speak of this. Say simply that I
shall never marry. 1t is enough"
But Ignace Jan Paderewskrs secret
was Out-that tender, beautiful, pathetic
secret that has been his for nineteen
years. The wife of his youth, his OBJ
security, his poverty, though dead, was
living. He saw her. He felt her touch.
She inspired him. She kept him alive.
So tender, so reYerent was his love for
her still that the thought of marriage to
another woman was sacreligious. Ignace
Jan Paderewsk would not marry again
could not marry again.
1t was twenty years ago that Ignace
Jan Paderewski, a poor, unknown plan
list, made a tour through Russia, Siberia,
SerVla and Roumania. He played to
small audiences at reduced rates. Most
Of his hearers listened duly A few
caught the whisper OF the angel genius
when the boy pianist touched the keys
They were men and women who listened
with their souls, for their ears noted
many imperfections in the musicians
art.
One of the few who listened and heard
the angel note was a girl of seventeen,
She was Rosa Hassal, the daughter of a
wealthy Roumanian. 1t was said that
there was noble blood IN her veins She
was girl in form and face and manner.
but a Woman's soul, mature and loving,
looked from her eyes. She was beautiful
because of that look. She had the d.
vine gift of sympathy. The Roumanian
village folk said that God had touched
her with his finger at her birth and put
that tender smile upon her lips and in
her eyes. $685..
Ignace PaderewslIi, from the rude
platform of the village hall, saw that
tender, unconscious smile. He felt the
gtrlish eyes with their depths OF I'M
fathomed tenderness upon MIN. Under
their spell he played as he had never
played before. She and her father thank
ed him for the music. He bowed low to
the father, and looked into her eyes and
was mute. The father froWned. The
girl blushed and her eyes fell.
Ignace Paderewsik1 played badly the
rest of the tour Once a vulgar fellow
was rude enough to hiss. But even vuI-
garians understand He would have been
patient had he known that the young
musician played badly because he miss
ed a pair of womanly eyes N a girlish
face.
Ignace Paderewski went back to the
Roumanian village three months later
He told the owner of the eyes that he
could never play again without their
presence and their inspiration. She con-
fessed she had thought often of the play
er and his music. She loved all the
world, but she loved him most of ALL So
when the Roumanian had talked loudly
about rank and fortune and angrily about
"pauper musicians" he did so to less
than no purpose. The next morning there
was an early wedding performed by the
village priest, and the rich Roumanian's
daughter and the 'pauper musician" left
the village and walked away hand in
hand into their new world, world that
held much pain and poverty, but more
happiness.
The young husband and wife travelled
together on his concert tours in Russian
and Polish villages. Sometimes she
turned his music. Oftener she sat near
him, near enough that he might look into
her eyes, those beautiful eyes with
deeper tenderness in them than when he
had seen them first in the Roumanian
village.
The stolid Russian folk to whom he
played remembered the musician and his
wife long after they had gone He was
so slender. so delicate, so wrapt In the
pianoforte and the wife, the wife and the
pianoforte She was more slender and
more delicate than he and she loved the
piano and her husband her husband and
the piano She looked at him so fondly.
She had such beautiful eyes The Rus
sian housewives and their rough hus-
bands used to think dunnbIy of those eyes
as they thought of the stars; something
far and wonderful that they could not
understand. They marveled at the har-
monies the husband drew from the keys
They associated them vaguely with the
light in the wifes eyes. They were right.
When Paderewski and his wife were
not travelling they lived in his BIRTH
place the Russian-Polish village of
Podolia Here he practised eight hours
day, always insisting that she be near
him while he practised He complained
that his fingers stumbled and would NOT
obey his will If she were away And she.
Gliding him little that the household
machinery must be stopped for him.
obeyed. She sat near him and sewed
until she was weary, while he played and
played. And ever the music grew sweet
er and the touch more divine
sometimes the playing stopped with
crash, for the wife had snatched his
fingers from the keys and kissed them
and baptised them with a rain of happy
tears. Then the music would be forgot
ten while these two fond, foolish yonne
nrin IN