Joachim is quite as noble and generous to poor artists as Liszt is, and constantly teaches them for nothing. He has the greatest enthusiasm for his class in the Hoch Schule, and I shouldn't think that any one who wishes to study the violin would think of going any where else. They say that Joachim possesses beautiful social qualities, also, and has the faculty of entertaining in his own house charmingly. He brings out what there is in every one without apparently saying anything himself.
The Baroness von S. had seemed so cordial and friendly at Mr. Bancroft's on account of the letter you had published in Dwight's Journal of Music, that I finally made up my mind to the daring act of calling on her in order to ask her for a letter of introduction to Liszt. She lives in a palace belonging to the Empress. There is a deep court in front of it, with lions on the gateway. Before the door stood a soldier on guard. As I approached, one of the Gardes du Corps (the Crown Prince's regiment) emerged from the entrance. He was dressed all in white and silver, with big top boots, and his helmet surmounted by a silver eagle. He was an officer, and of course all the officers in this regiment belong to the flower of the nobility. I was rather awed by his imposing appearance, and advanced timidly to the doors, which were of glass, and pulled the bell. A tall phantom in livery appeared, as if by magic, and signed to me to ascend the grand staircase. The walls of it were all covered with pictures. I went up, and was received by another tall phantom in livery. I asked him "if the Frau Excellency was to be spoken." He took my card, and discreetly said, "he would see," at the same time ushering me into an immense ball-room, where he requested me to be seated. It was furnished in crimson satin, there were myriads of mirrors, and the floor was waxed. I took refuge in a corner of it, feeling very small indeed. Those few minutes of waiting were extremely uncomfortable, for I didn't know what she would say to my request, as I had only seen her that one time at Mr. Bancroft's, and was not sure that she would not regard my coming as a liberty. People are so severe in their ideas here.
At last the servant returned and said she would receive me, and led the way across the ball-room to a door which he opened for me to enter. I found myself in a large, high room, also furnished in crimson, and in the centre of which stood two pianos nestled lovingly together. The Baroness was not there, however, and I saw what seemed to be an endless succession of rooms opening one out of the other, the doors always opposite each other. I concluded to "go on till I stopped," and after traversing three or four, I at last heard a faint murmur of voices, and entered what I suppose is her boudoir. There my divinity was seated in a little crimson satin sofa, talking to an old fellow who sat on a chair near her, whom she introduced as Herr Professor Somebody. He had a small, well-stuffed head, and a pale, observant eye that seemed to say, "I've looked into everything"—and I should think it had by the way he conversed.
The Baroness was attired in an olive-coloured silk, short, and fashionably made. She was leaning forward as she talked, and toying with a silver-sheathed dagger which she took from a table loaded with costly trifles next her. She rose as I came in, and greeted me very cordially, and asked me to sit down on the sofa by her. I explained to her my errand, and she immediately said she would give me a letter with the greatest pleasure. We had a very charming conversation about artists in general, and Liszt in particular, in which the little professor took a leading part. He showed himself the connoisseur he looked, and gradually diverged from the art of music to that of speaking and reading, which he said was the most difficult of all the arts, because the tone was not there, but had to be made. He said he had never heard a perfect speaker or reader in his life. He descanted at great length upon the art of speaking, and finally, when he paused, the Baroness took my hand and said, "Where do you live?" I gave her my address, and she said she would send me the letter. I then rose to go, and she assured me again she would say all she could to dispose Liszt favourably towards me. I thanked her, and said good-bye. She waited till I was nearly half across the next room, and then she called after me, "I'll say lots of pretty things about you!" That was a real little piece of coquetry on her part, and she knew that it would take me down! She looked so sweet when she said it, standing and smiling there in the middle of the floor, the door-way making a frame for her. A few days afterward I met her in the street, and she told me she had enjoined it upon Liszt to be amiable to me, "but," she added, with a mischievous laugh, "I didn't tell him you wrote so well for the papers." Oh, she is too fascinating for anything!—She seems just to float on the top of the wave and never to think. Such exquisite perception and intelligence, and yet lightness!
The last excitement in Berlin was over the wedding of Prince Albrecht (the son of the one whose funeral I saw) with the Princess of Altenburg. When she arrived she made a regular entry into the city in a coach all gold and glass, drawn by eight superb plumed horses. A band of music went before her, and she had an escort all in grand equipages. As she sat on the back seat with the Crown Princess, magnificently dressed, and bowing from side to side, you rubbed your eyes and thought you saw Cinderella!
WITH LISZT.
CHAPTER XVII.
Arrives in Weimar. Liszt at the Theatre. At a Party.
At his own House.