We may be properly independent of the patronage of royalty, but this
independence need not take the form of rudeness as with the musician in
these incidents:
Liszt refused to play at court of Queen Isabella in Spain
because the court etiquette forbade the introduction of
musicians to royalty. In his opinion even crowned heads owed a
certain deference and homage to the sovereignities of art, and
he determined it should be paid.
He met Czar Nicholas I, who had very little notion of the
respect due to any one but himself, with an angry look and a
defiant word; he tossed Frederick William IV’s diamonds into
the side scenes, and broke a lance with Louis Philippe, which
cost him a decoration. He never forgave that thrifty King for
abolishing certain musical pensions and otherwise snubbing art.
He refused on every occasion to play at the Tuilleries. One
day the king and his suite paid a “private view” visit to a
pianoforte exhibition of Erard’s. Liszt happened to be in the
room, and was trying a piano just as his Majesty entered. The
King advanced genially toward him and began a conversation, but
Liszt merely bowed with a polished but icy reserve.
“Do you still remember,” said the King, “that you played at my
house when you were but a boy and I Duke of Orleans? Much has
changed since then.”
“Yes, sire,” replied Liszt dryly, “but not for the better.”
The King showed his royal appreciation of the repartee by
striking the great musician’s name off the list of those who
were about to receive the Cross of the Legion of Honor.--H.
R. HAWEIS, “My Musical Memories.”
(2869)