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In neither ambition was he greatly successful. Weimar heard Rienzi, The Flying Dutchman, Tannhauser and Lohengrin but the last was the only one which Liszt presented for the first time. He perfected and published the best of his own music. For a time Weimar was the musical centre of Europe but its brilliance gradually began to dim. In December 1858, Liszt heard what were probably the first hisses of his career. He resigned immediately.
He was nearing 50 and his long greying hair gave him something of the diabolic appearance of Paganini. He went to Rome with his faithful Princess; in 1865, after he discovered they could not get married, he took minor orders in the Roman Church. But the Abbe Liszt had not given up music. By degrees his oldtime popularity returned to him. He was invited again to Weimar for a part of each year. Hungary formed an Academy of Music, put him in charge, greeted him so exuberantly that he played the piano for the populace from a balcony. Like an aged Byron he continued to have love affairs, during one of which he was almost shot. Finally in honor of his approaching 75th birthday he went on a final grand tour. As it had when he was 20, Paris greeted him hysterically. This time London, too, was cordial; Victoria invited him to Windsor Castle. All Europe held concerts in his honor. On his way from Luxembourg to Bayreuth to hear Tristan a honeymooning couple entered his second-class compartment, leaned gaily out of the open window. Franz Liszt caught a chill. At Bayreuth it developed into pneumonia. His last word: "Tristan!" The Princess died a year later.
Readers of Mr. Sitwell's biography will find an earnest attempt to discover Liszt's true place in the history of music. Mr. Sitwell's estimate: like Byron. Liszt was the embodiment of his art, a poetical figure if not a great poet. The greatest of pianists, he became at Weimar the first executive of music, paved the way for followers.
There are thousands of people still alive today who heard Liszt play, a few who knew him. But when the last of these shall have died, the legend of Liszt's piano playing will not be enough to keep his memory alive. Thereafter he will be remembered, if at all, by his compositions. Most often heard nowadays are his hackneyed Second Hungarian Rhapsody, his A flat Liebestraüme. Concertgoers know his B minor Sonata, a few of the Poemes Symphoniques, a half dozen of his arrangements and transcriptions. The immortality of his fame depends upon the repetition of those compositions, the possible resuscitation of other Liszt pieces now almost forgotten.
*LISZT—Sacheverell Sitwell—Houghton Mifflin ($4).