Chopin remembered Vienna as the city where he had made an instant success with his music, so when, after years at home in Warsaw, he returned to Vienna he was dismayed to find only a very cool welcome. Vienna wanted to dance and sing and forget war: Poland was on the brink of war.

In Paris, however, Chopin found himself warmly welcomed; his concerts became the vogue; his days were crowded with both gaity and the work he loved so much. Then ill health began to interfere with his music and he went to Majorca, to England and to Scotland in the hope of getting better. But time was running out and, at the peak of his career, the great composer an pianist died in Paris, the city he loved.

From the dust jacket