Franz Liszt, in his day the king of
pianists, a composer whose compositions still glow
and burn with the fire he breathed into them; Liszt
the diplomat, courtier, man of the world-always
a conqueror! How difficult to tell, in a few
pages, the story of a life so complex and absorbing!
A storm outside: but all was
warmth and simple comfort in the large sitting-room
of a steward’s cottage belonging to the small
estate of Raiding, in Hungary.
It was evening and father Liszt, after
the labors of the day were over, could call these
precious hours his own. He was now at the old
piano, for with him music was a passion. He used
all his leisure time for study and had some knowledge
of most instruments. He had taught himself the
piano, indeed under the circumstances had become quite
proficient on it. To-night he was playing something
of Haydn, for he greatly venerated that master.
Adam Liszt made a striking figure as he sat there,
his fine head, with its mass of light hair, thrown
back, his stern features softened by the music he
was making.
At a table near sat his wife, her
dark head with its glossy braids bent over her sewing.
Hers was a sweet, kindly face, and she endeared herself
to every one by her simple, unassuming manners.
Quite near the old piano stood little
Franz, not yet six. He was absolutely absorbed
in the music. The fair curls fell about his childish
face and his deep blue eyes were raised to his father,
as though the latter were some sort of magician, creating
all this beauty.
When the music paused, little Franz
awoke as from a trance.
“Did you like that, Franzerl?”
asked his father, looking down at him. The child
bent his curly head, hardly able to speak.
“And do you want to be a musician
when you grow up?” Franzerl nodded, then, pointing
to a picture of Beethoven hanging on the wall, exclaimed
with beaming eyes: “I want to be such a
musician as he is!”
Adam Liszt had already begun to teach
his baby son the elements of music, at the child’s
earnest and oft-repeated request. He had no real
method, being self-taught himself, but in spite of
this fact Franz made remarkable progress. He
could read the notes and find the keys with as much
ease as though he had practised for years. He
had a wonderful ear, and his memory was astonishing.
The father hoped his boy would become a great musician,
and carry out the dream which he had failed to realize
in himself.
Little Franz was born in the eventful
year of 1811,-the “year of the comet.”
The night of October 21, the night of his birth, the
tail of the meteor seemed to light up the roof of
the Liszt home and was regarded as an omen of destiny.
His mother used to say he was always cheerful, loving,
never naughty but most obedient. The child seemed
religious by nature, which feeling was fostered by
his good mother. He loved to go to church on
Sundays and fast days. The midnight mass on Christmas
eve, when Adam Liszt, carrying a lantern, led the way
to church along the country road, through the silent
night, filled the child’s thoughts with mystic
awe.
Those early impressions have doubtless
influenced the creations of Liszt, especially that
part of his “Christus” entitled “Christmas
Oratorio.”
Before Franz was six, as we have seen,
he had already begun his musical studies. If
not sitting at the piano, he would scribble notes-for
he had learned without instruction how to write them
long before he knew the letters of the alphabet, or
rudiments of writing. His small hands were a
source of trouble to him, and he resorted to all kinds
of comical expedients, such as sometimes playing extra
notes with the tip of his nose. Indeed his ingenuity
knew no bounds, when it came to mastering some musical
difficulty.
Franz was an open minded, frank, truth-loving
child, always ready to confess his faults, though
he seemed to have but few. Strangely enough,
though born an Hungarian, he was never taught to speak
his native tongue, which indeed was only used by the
peasants. German, the polite language of the
country, was alone used in the Liszt home.
The pronounced musical talent of his
boy was a source of pride to Adam Liszt, who spoke
of it to all his friends, so that the little fellow
began to be called “the artist.” The
result was that when a concert was to be given at
the neighboring Oldenburg, Adam was requested to allow
his wonder child to play.
When Franz, now a handsome boy of
nine, heard of the concert, he was overjoyed at the
prospect of playing in public. It was a happy
day for him when he started out with his father for
Oldenburg. He was to play a Concerto by Reis,
and a Fantaisie of his own, accompanied by the
orchestra. In this his first public attempt Franz
proved he possessed two qualities necessary for success-talent
and will. All who heard him on this occasion
were so delighted, that Adam then and there made arrangements
to give a second concert on his own account, which
was attended with as great success as the first.
The father had now fully made up his
mind Franz was to be a musician. He decided to
resign his post of steward at Raiding and take the
boy to Vienna for further study.
On the way to Pressburg, the first
stop, they halted to call at Eisenstadt, on Prince
Esterhazy. The boy played for his delighted host,
who gave him every encouragement, even to placing his
castle at Pressburg at his disposal for a concert.
The Princess, too, was most cordial, and gave the
boy costly presents when they left.
At Pressburg Adam Liszt succeeded
in arranging a concert which interested all the Hungarian
aristocracy of the city. It was given in the
spacious drawing-rooms of the Prince’s palace,
and a notable audience was present. Little Franz
achieved a triumph that night, because of the fire
and originality of his playing. Elegant women
showered caresses upon the child and the men were unanimous
that such gifts deserved to be cultivated to the utmost
without delay.
When it was learned that father Liszt
had not an ample purse, and there would be but little
for Franz’s further musical education, six Hungarian
noblemen agreed to raise a subscription which would
provide a yearly income for six years. With this
happy prospect in view, which relieved him of further
anxiety, the father wrote to Hummel, now in employ
of the Court at Weimar, asking him to undertake Franz’s
musical education. Hummel, though a famous pianist,
was of a grasping nature; he wrote back that he was
willing to accept the talented boy as a pupil, but
would charge a louis d’or per lesson!
As soon as the father and his boy
arrived in Vienna, the best teachers were secured
for Franz. Carl Czerny was considered head of
the piano profession. Czerny had been a pupil
of Beethoven, and was so overrun with pupils himself,
that he at first declined to accept another. But
when he heard Franz play, he was so impressed that
he at once promised to teach him. His nature
was the opposite of Hummel’s, for he was most
generous to struggling talent. At the end of twelve
lessons, when Adam Liszt wished to pay the debt, Czerny
would accept nothing, and for the whole period of
instruction-a year and a half-he
continued to teach Franz gratuitously.
At first the work with such a strict
master of technic as Czerny, was very irksome to the
boy, who had been brought up on no method at all,
but was allowed free and unrestrained rein. He
really had no technical foundation; but since he could
read rapidly at sight and could glide over the keys
with such astonishing ease, he imagined himself already
a great artist. Czerny soon showed him his deficiencies;
proving to him that an artist must have clear touch,
smoothness of execution and variety of tone.
The boy rebelled at first, but finally settled down
to hard study, and the result soon astonished his teacher.
For Franz began to acquire a richness of feeling and
beauty of tone wonderful for such a child. Salieri
became his teacher of theory. He was now made
to analyze and play scores, also compose little pieces
and short hymns. In all these the boy made fine
progress.
He now began to realize he needed
to know something besides music, and set to work by
himself to read, study and write. He also had
great opportunity, through his noble Hungarian patrons,
to meet the aristocracy of Vienna. His talents,
vivacity and grace, his attractive personality, all
helped to win the notice of ladies-even
in those early days of his career.
After eighteen busy months in Vienna,
father Liszt decided to bring his boy out in a public
concert. The Town Hall was placed at his disposal
and a number of fine artists assisted. With beaming
face and sparkling eyes, the boy played with more
skill, fire and confidence than he had ever done before.
The concert took place December 1, 1822. On January
12, 1823, Franz repeated his success in another concert,
again at the Town Hall.
It was after this second concert that
Franz’s reputation reached the ears of Beethoven,
always the object of the boy’s warmest admiration.
Several times Franz and his father had tried to see
the great master, but without success. Schindler
was appealed to and promised to do his best.
He wrote in Beethoven’s diary, as the master
was quite deaf:
“Little Liszt has entreated
me to beg you to write him a theme for to-morrow’s
concert. He will not break the seal till the concert
begins. Czerny is his teacher-the boy
is only eleven years old. Do come to his concert,
it will encourage the child. Promise me you will
come.”
It was the thirteenth of April, 1823.
A very large audience filled the Redouten Saal.
When Franz stepped upon the platform, he perceived
the great Beethoven seated near. A great joy
filled him. Now he was to play for the great
man, whom all his young life he had worshiped from
afar. He put forth every effort to be worthy of
such an honor. Never had he played with such
fire; his whole being seemed thrilled-never
had he achieved such success. In the admiration
which followed, Beethoven rose, came upon the platform,
clasped the boy in his arms and kissed him repeatedly,
to the frantic cheers of the audience.
The boy Franz Liszt had now demonstrated
that already at eleven years old, he was one of the
leading virtuosi of the time; indeed his great reputation
as a pianist dates from this third Vienna concert.
The press praised him highly, and many compared him
to the wonderful genius, Mozart. Adam Liszt wished
him now to see more of the world, and make known his
great talents, also to study further. He decided
to take the boy to Paris, for there lived the celebrated
composer, Cherubini, at that time Director of the
Paris Conservatoire.
On the way to Paris, concerts were
given in various cities. In Munich he was acclaimed
“a second Mozart.” In Strassburg and
Stuttgart he had great success.
Arrived in Paris, father and son visited
the Conservatoire at once, for it would have been
a fine thing for the boy to study there for a time,
as it was the best known school for counterpoint and
composition. Cherubini, however, refused to even
read the letters of recommendation, saying no foreigner,
however talented, could be admitted to the French
National School of Music. Franz was deeply hurt
by this refusal, and begged with tears to be allowed
to come, but Cherubini was immovable.
However they soon made the acquaintance
of Ferdinand Paer, who offered to give the child lessons
in composition.
Franz made wonderful progress, both
in this new line of study, and in becoming known as
a piano virtuoso. Having played in a few of the
great houses, he soon found himself the fashion; everybody
was anxious for “lé petit Litz” as
he was called, to attend and play at their soirees.
Franz thus met the most distinguished musicians of
the day. When he played in public the press indulged
in extravagant praise, calling him “the eighth
wonder of the world,” “another Mozart,”
and the like. Of course the father was overjoyed
that his fondest hopes were being realized. Franz
stood at the head of the virtuosi, and in composition
he was making rapid strides. He even attempted
an operetta, “Don Sancho,” which later
had several performances.
The eminent piano maker, Erard, who
had a branch business in London and was about to start
for that city, invited Liszt to accompany him and
bring Franz. They accepted this plan, but in order
to save expense, it was decided that mother Liszt,
who had joined them in Paris, should return to Austria
and stay with a sister till the projected tours were
over.
Franz was saddened by this decision,
but his entreaties were useless; his father was stern.
The separation was a cruel one for the boy. For
a long time thereafter the mere mention of his mother’s
name would bring tears.
In May, 1824, father and son, with
Erard, started for England, and on June 21 Franz gave
his first public concert in London. He had already
played for the aristocracy in private homes, and had
appeared at Court by command of King George IV.
The concert won him great success, though the English
were more reserved in their demonstrations, and not
like the impulsive, open-hearted French people.
He was happy to return to Paris, after the London
season, and to resume his playing in the French salons.
The next spring, accompanied by his
father, he made a tour of the French provinces, and
then set out for a second trip to England. He
was now fourteen; a mere boy in years, but called the
greatest pianist of the day. He had developed
so quickly and was so precocious that already he disliked
being called “lé petit Litz,” for
he felt himself full grown. He wished to be free
to act as he wished. Adam, however, kept a strict
watch on all his movements, and this became irksome
to the boy, who felt he was already a man.
But father Liszt’s health became
somewhat precarious; constant traveling had undermined
it. They remained in Paris quietly, till the
year 1826, when they started on a second tour of French
cities till Marseilles was reached, where the young
pianist’s success was overwhelming.
Returning to Paris, Franz devoted
much of his time to ardent study of counterpoint,
under Anton Reicha. In six months’ study
he had mastered the difficulties of this intricate
art.
Adam Liszt and Franz spent the winter
of 1826-7 in Switzerland, the boy playing in all important
cities. They returned to Paris in the spring,
and in May, set out again for England on a third visit.
Franz gave his first concert in London on June ninth
and proved how much he had gained in power and brilliancy.
Moscheles, who was present, wrote: “Franz
Liszt’s playing surpasses in power and the overcoming
of difficulties anything that has yet been heard.”
The strain of constant travel and
concert playing was seriously telling on the boy’s
sensitive, excitable nature. He lost his sunny
gaiety, grew quiet, sometimes almost morose. He
went much to church, and wanted to take orders, but
his father prevented this step. Indeed the father
became alarmed at the boy’s pale face and changed
condition, and took him to the French watering place
of Boulogne-sur-Mer. Here both father and son
were benefited by the sea baths and absolute rest.
Franz recovered his genial spirits and constantly
gained in health and strength.
But with Adam Liszt the gain was only
temporary. He was attacked with a fever, succumbed
in a few days and was buried at Boulogne. The
loss of his father was a great blow to Franz.
He was prostrated for days, but youth at last conquered.
Aroused to his responsibilities, he began to think
for the future. He at once wrote his mother, telling
her what had happened, saying he would give up his
concert tours and make a home for her in Paris, by
giving piano lessons.
Looking closer into his finances,
of which he had no care before, Franz found the expenses
of his father’s illness and death had exhausted
their little savings, and he was really in debt.
He decided to sell his grand piano, so that he should
be in debt to no one. This was done, every one
was paid off and on his arrival in Paris his old friend
Erard invited him to his own home till the mother came.
It was a sweet and happy meeting of
mother and son, after such a long separation.
The two soon found a modest apartment in the Rue Montholon.
As soon as his intention to give lessons
became known, many aristocratic pupils came and found
him a remarkable teacher. Among his new pupils
was Caroline Saint Cricq, youngest daughter of Count
Saint Cricq, then Minister of the Interior, and Madame
his wife.
Caroline, scarcely seventeen, the
same age as her young teacher, was a beautiful girl,
as pure and refined as she was talented. Under
the eyes of the Countess, the lessons went on from
month to month, and the mother did not fail to see
the growing attachment between the young people.
But love’s young dream was of short duration.
The Countess fell ill and the lessons had to be discontinued.
Caroline did not see her devoted teacher till all
was over.
There was now another bond between
them, the sympathy over the loss of their dear ones.
The Count had requested that the lessons should be
resumed. But when the young teacher remained too
long in converse with his pupil after the lessons,
he was dismissed by the Count, and all their sweet
intercourse came to an abrupt end.
Mme. Liszt did all she could
to soothe the grief and despair of her son. For
days and weeks he remained at home, neglecting his
piano and his work. He again thought of the church
with renewed ardor and told his mother he now had
decided to become a monk. His spirits sank very
low; he became ill, unable to leave the house and it
was reported everywhere he had passed away.
Again he rallied and his strong constitution
conquered. As strength slowly returned, so also
did his activity and love of life.
During his long convalescence he was
seized with a great desire for knowledge, and read
everything he could lay hands on. He would often
sit at the piano, busying his fingers with technic
while reading a book on the desk before him.
He had formerly given all his time to music and languages;
now he must know literature, politics, history and
exact sciences. A word casually dropped in conversation,
would start him on a new line of reading. Then
came the revolution of 1830. Everybody talked
politics, and Franz, with his excitable spirits, would
have rushed into the conflict if his mother had not
restrained him.
With all this awakening he sought
to broaden his art, to make his instrument speak of
higher things. Indeed the spirit must speak through
the form. This he realized the more as he listened
to the thrilling performances of that wizard of the
violin, Paganini, who appeared in Paris in 1831.
This style of playing made a deep impression on Liszt.
He now tried to do on the piano what Paganini accomplished
on the violin, in the matter of tone quality and intensity.
He procured the newly published Caprices for violin
and tried to learn their tonal secrets, also transcribing
the pieces for piano.
Liszt became fast friends with the
young composer, Hector Berlioz, and much influenced
by his compositions, which were along new harmonic
lines. Chopin, the young Polish artist, now appeared
in Paris, playing his E minor Concerto, his Mazurkas
and Nocturnes, revealing new phases of art.
Chopin’s calm composure tranquilized Liszt’s
excitable nature. From Chopin, Liszt learned
to “express in music the poetry of the aristocratic
salon.” Liszt ever remained a true and admiring
friend of the Pole, and wrote the poetic study sketch
of him in 1849.
Liszt was now twenty-three. Broadened
and chastened by all he had passed through, he resumed
his playing in aristocratic homes. He also appeared
in public and was found to be quite a different artist
from what the Parisians had previously known.
His bold new harmonies in his own compositions, the
rich effects, showed a deep knowledge of his art.
He had transcribed a number of Berlioz’s most
striking compositions to the piano and performed them
with great effect.
The handsome and gifted young artist
was everywhere the object of admiration. He also
met George Sand, and was soon numbered among that
wonderful and dangerous woman’s best friends.
Later he met the young and beautiful Countess Laprunarede,
and a mutual attraction ensued. The elderly Count,
her husband, pleased with the dashing young musician,
invited him to spend the winter at his chateau, in
Switzerland, where the witty Countess virtually kept
him prisoner.
The following winter, 1833-34, when
the salons opened again, Liszt frequented them as
before. He was in the bloom of youth and fame,
when he met the woman who was to be linked with his
destiny for the next ten years.
We have sketched the childhood and
youth of this wonderful artist up to this point.
We will pass lightly over this decade of his career,
merely stating briefly that the lady-the
beautiful Countess d’Agoult, captivated by the
brilliant talents of the Hungarian virtuoso, left
her husband and child, and became for ten years the
faithful companion of his travels and tours over Europe.
Many writers agree that Liszt endeavored to dissuade
her from this attraction, and behaved as honorably
as he could under the circumstances. A part of
the time they lived in Switzerland, and it was there
that many of Liszt’s compositions were written.
Of their three children, the boy died
very young. Of the girls, Blandine became the
wife of Emile Ollivier, a French literary man and
statesman. Her sister, Cosima, married first Hans
von Buelow and later Richard Wagner.
In 1843 Liszt intended to take Madame
with him to Russia, but instead, left her and her
children in Paris, with his mother, as the Countess
was in failing health. His first concert, in St.
Petersburg, realized the enormous sum of fifty thousand
francs-ten thousand dollars. Instead
of giving one concert in Moscow, he gave six.
Later he played in Bavaria, Saxony and other parts
of Germany. He then settled in Weimar for a time,
being made Grand Ducal Capellmeister. Then, in
1844-45, longing for more success, he toured Spain
and Portugal.
A generous act was his labor in behalf
of the Beethoven monument, to be erected in the master’s
birthplace, Bonn. The monument was to be given
by subscriptions from the various Princes of Germany.
Liszt helped make up the deficit and came to Bonn
to organize a Festival in honor of the event.
He also composed a Cantata for the opening day of
the Festival, and in his enthusiasm nearly ruined himself
by paying the heavy expenses of the Festival out of
his own pocket.
The political events of 1848 brought
him back to Weimar, and he resumed his post of Court
Music Director. He now directed his energies
toward making Weimar the first musical city of Germany.
Greatly admiring Wagner’s genius, he undertook
to perform his works in Weimar, and to spread his
name and fame. Indeed it is not too much to say
that without Liszt’s devoted efforts, Wagner
would never have attained his vogue and fame.
Wagner himself testified to this.
While living in Weimar, Liszt made
frequent journeys to Rome and to Paris. In 1861
there was a rumor that the object of his visits to
Rome was to gain Papal consent to his marriage with
the Princess Sayn-Wittgenstein. During a visit
to Rome in 1864, the musician was unable to resist
longer the mysticism of the church. He decided
to take orders and was made an Abbe.
Since that time, Abbe Franz Liszt
did much composing. He also continued to teach
the piano to great numbers of pupils, who flocked
to him from all parts of the world. Many of the
greatest artists now before the public were numbered
among his students, and owe much of their success
to his artistic guidance.
In 1871, the Hungarian Cabinet created
him a noble, with a yearly pension of three thousand
dollars. In 1875, he was made Director of the
Academy at Budapest. In addition, Liszt was a
member of nearly all the European Orders of Chivalry.
Franz Liszt passed away August 1,
1886, in the house of his friend, Herr Frohlich, near
Wagner’s Villa Wahnfried, Bayreuth, at the age
of seventy-five. As was his custom every summer,
Liszt was in Bayreuth, assisting in the production
of Wagner’s masterpieces, when he succumbed
to pneumonia. Thus passed a great composer, a
world famous piano virtuoso, and a noble and kindly
spirit.
For the piano, his chosen instrument,
Liszt wrote much that was beautiful and inspiring.
He created a new epoch for the virtuoso. His
fifteen Hungarian Rhapsodies, B minor Sonata,
Concert Etudes and many transcriptions, appear on
all modern programs, and there are many pieces yet
to be made known. He is the originator of the
Symphonic Poem, for orchestra; while his sacred music,
such as the Oratorio “Christus,”
and the beautiful “Saint Elizabeth,” a
sacred opera, are monuments to his great genius.