As might have been expected, Liszt soon heard that Josy grew larger but did not change otherwise; that he made no progress, and that nothing could be done with him. With his personal weakness for these singular people, he looked upon the zig-zag letters of the boy which showed the type of oriental exaggeration, as a proof of his industry. He sent word to him to meet him in Strasburg. When he first arrived he did not think of the boy, but when he stepped from his carriage he suddenly felt a violent hand-shake and was almost suffocated in the embraces of a strange young man. It took some time before he could recognize in this elegant young gentleman, clad in Parisian fashion, his little untamed, harum-scarum gypsy of the moors. Only the curved nose, the Asiatic eyes and the dark skin, in spite of all the French cosmetics and soaps, were the same. The self-conceit also was left, for when Liszt suddenly exclaimed: “Why, Josy, you look like a young gentleman,” not in the least disconcerted and with the mien of an hidalgo, he replied, “Yes, because I am one.” In his new costume he also preserved his lofty style and grandeur of demeanor, and after that it was difficult for the “father” to believe that the inflexible gypsy nature could be restrained within the limits of civilization and keep a designated course. Still he would not allow his convictions to defeat his hopes so soon. He thought that perhaps woods and fields would have a better influence upon the boy than the great city and he consigned him to an excellent musician in Germany, on the edge of the Black Forest. This retreat, which withdrew him from the atmosphere of the great city and the danger of continual fresh corruption, interfering with the growth of what little virtuous aptitude he had by nature, Liszt hoped would lead yet to the amelioration of the wild creature.
Not long after he was in Vienna and heard of a new gypsy band. He went one evening to the “Zeiferl,” where they played, to see whether it was worth the trouble to make their acquaintance. Not one of the company expected to find a face they knew in the band and for that reason they were surprised at the commotion which Liszt’s entrance occasioned. A slim young fellow rushed out of the troupe, fell at his feet and embraced his knees with the most passionate gestures. At the same instant he was surrounded by the whole troupe, who without further ado, overwhelmed him by kissing his hand and expressions of gratitude, of which he did not understand a syllable. After much trouble he discovered that the one who had thrown himself at his feet with such an enthusiastic “Elyen Liszt,” was an older brother of Josy’s. He had been inquiring among Liszt’s friends and related, boasting and sobbing at the same time, all that had been done for the benefit of the poor sold boy, which did not prevent him, however, from timidly intimating how glad they would be to see him and have him again.
The news from his teacher was not satisfactory, so all hope must be given up of making a rational artist out of this gypsy musician. Liszt could no longer force an organization which was at utter variance with the temperament of our society and culture. Will any one contend that the European world has anything better to offer to such a branch dissevered from its stem, than the joys of nature, to which our culture had perhaps gradually made him wholly insensible? So he allowed this “son of the wilderness” to come to Vienna in order that he might again join his companions, if he so wished. His rapture at seeing them was boundless. They feared he would go mad, but the elasticity of such nerves knows no limits. Although in his foolish moments he had wished for another complexion he now was conscious that he could no longer disown his race. No sooner were they reunited than the band disappeared from the city with the purpose of showing the lost child to his father again. From the very first moment, Josy had shown himself more intolerable than ever, and with many passionate expressions of gratitude begged to be allowed to return at once and forever to his people. So they parted, after his friends had filled his purse with a little contribution which the haughty little fellow squandered upon a colossal banquet given to his brethren in spite of all protestations and the farewell supper besides, which had been provided for him.
Did he ever see him again, this most perverse of all his countless scholars, on the edge of the wood, with his violin, smoking, playing or only dreaming, as Lenau has pictured “the three gypsies?”
Some years later, in 1857, Liszt’s volume made its appearance. A German translation of it by P. Cornelius appeared in Pesth, in 1861. It contained a letter from Debrezin, in Hungary, signed: “Sarai Josef, or the Gypsy Josy in the principal orchestra of Boka Karoly.” A notice of the volume had appeared in the Debrezin Sonntagsblatt, and so Josy writes the following which shows that culture had had some influence upon him: “Since I have become the father of a family and acquired a restful spirit and clear understanding, I reflect with sadness that in my youth I might have had the good fortune, under Your Highness’ protection and patronage, of an introduction to the great world and of artistic cultivation, but for my incorrigible perversity and aversion to all that was noble, elevated and artistic. But it was impossible, and you are richly rewarded by my own and my brother’s request, since a worthless gypsy fellow, whom it was impossible to develop into an artist, is sent home again. In a word, I realize that I have buried my future, but it could not have been otherwise. But as you openly desire, at the close of your narrative, to hear something of me, I take this opportunity to humbly inform you that here in Debrezin, my home, I am serving as an ordinary gypsy in the orchestra, among my companions, and am a favorite with the public since I still play the violin tolerably well.”
He had also married a gypsy of the same place, and the year before had a son, who was christened with Liszt’s most precious name of Franz. He says: “I am so bold as to select Your Highness as godfather. We prolonged the christening with a lively entertainment, pledging the godfather in a far away foreign land with high swinging cups.” He added that the most precious recollections of him were impressed upon his heart and that a portrait of “His Highness,” which he once took away from Paris with him, should be preserved in his humble abode as long as he lived and should be consigned to his posterity as a sacred relic.
“Poverty often hangs the soul with rags and leaves it bare of everything that graces and warms,” says Goethe, but in this case we see that where nature has no other needs than those which can be satisfied without trouble, the saying is not true and the appreciation of a benefit conferred is, so to speak, a higher moral attribute, a culture in itself. If a want of gratitude be the first sign of liberty and self-dependence, then this “ordinary gypsy,” Sarai Josy, might quietly say: “We barbarians are still better men.” Gratitude was the distinction of his person as that haughtiness which has clung to them through centuries of misery and privation in all countries of the world is the distinction of his race. Could culture have given such a distinction to this Josy? We doubt it and offer as an illustration the beautiful saying of our great Fichte, in the address to the German people, that delight in the good is rooted in man. In fact we have observed it in this Josy. The loss of all the beautiful gifts of culture did not give him a moment’s concern. That he had “buried his future” was to him simply a thing that could not have been avoided, but the spirit of goodness and love which alone can add happiness and blessing to culture, once experienced by him, was never forgotten. As long as he lived and even after he was gone, the picture of his benefactor would be preserved as a “holy relic.” This one incident reveals to us the real character of our master, who in this respect inherited the traits of Mozart.
CHAPTER IV.
IMPROMPTU.
General Characteristics of Liszt—Earnestness of his Art—Its Genial Character—His Interest in Life—His Loving Nature—Affection for his Parents—Remorse of a Capellmeister—Richard Wagner’s Testimony—A Helping Hand in time of Need—His Generosity to Wagner—Secures him a Hearing—The Letter to Herr B.—Plans to Bring out Wagner’s Works in London—Wagner in Despair—Misunderstanding of Liszt—A Personal Appeal and Prompt Reply—A Success made in Weimar—Urges Wagner to create a New Work—“The Nibelungen”—Wagner’s Tribute at Baireuth.
Better known personally than most of his contemporaries, not so much by the principles of his artistic movement as by his own personality, for fifty years all over Europe, admired and courted on account of the wonderful miracle of his genius, a hundred-fold more on account of his manners and individuality studied partly for the laudable purpose of discovering the secret of his overwhelming mastery, partly to detect the failings of human weakness, the shadow in so much light, “the dark ray”—what can be said of such a man as Liszt in a general characterization?