octaves. What I wish to hear is the canter of the horses of the Polish cavalry before they
gather force and destroy the enemy.’
These few words were characteristic of Liszt. The poetical vision always arose before his
mental eye, whether it was a Beethoven sonata, a Chopin nocturne, or a work of his own,
it was not merely interpreting a work, but real reproduction. Let us take an example, the
C-sharp minor variation from Schumann’s ‘Etudes Symphoniques’. No other pianist –
and I have heard them all – ever got that sighing, wailing, murmuring sound of the
accompaniment in the left, and certainly no other pianist played the noble melody in the
right hand with such indescribable pathos as Liszt did.
At one of the lessons in Weimar, a Hungarian pianist played the Concerto in A major,
with my good friend Friedheim playing the orchestral accompaniment on a second piano
from memory. The orchestral part is rather complicated. Liszt said to Friedheim: ‘What!
You play the orchestral part from memory?’ And Friedheim answered: ‘Yes, and I love
every note of it.’ I shall never forget the solemn look on Liszt’s face, as he raised his
hand and with eyes uplifted, he said quietly: ‘I can wait’ – ‘Ich kann warten’.
I played all the principal pieces of my repertoire at those lessons in Weimar, and followed
Liszt to Rome and again to London in April, 1886. The last concerts he ever attended
were a concert given by Stavenhagen, and a recital given by myself in St. James’s Hall in
London.
Leaving Berlin on the evening, 22nd December, 1885, I bade farewell to my sister, who
travelled afterwards the same night to Frankfurt. Although enthusiastic about Liszt, my
sister thought the Italian journey a dubious affair, but seeing that my mind was made up,
no further objections were raised.
Florence appeared so clean early in the morning, and after breakfast we took our seats in
the train bound for Bologna and the capital, arriving punctually at 3:30 P.M. There the
servant Eugenio was waiting for us. Captain Cooper-Weigold did not forget his promise
to bring me to Liszt’s hotel. Here I found my Weimar colleagues of the previous summer,
Stavenhagen and Ansorge, who were staying there. They were surprised but glad to see
me. A bedroom was soon reserved for me, and taking leave of my kind friend, Cooper-
Weigold, I was soon in bed utterly worn out.
The next morning I awoke to the sounds of labourers working under the direction of a
priest in a courtyard close to my bedroom. The brightness of the early morning acted like
an incentive to my spirits. The waiter brought me steaming black coffee. Forgotten was
all fatigue. I soon dressed. Stavenhagen informed me that all the pupils, Ansorge,
Thomán, Stradal, Miss Schmalhausen, were staying at the hotel, and that I would be the
sixth. Thomán offered to bring me to Liszt in the afternoon; Stavenhagen accompanied
us. There we found the grand old man who embraced me with the words: ‘Ach, der
Schotte!’ The Maestro appeared to be in an excellent mood, and was interested to know
what new pieces were added to my repertoire. I replied ‘Islamey’ by Balakireff, and the
Beethoven ‘Diabelli’ Variations.