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  • Scenarios of Love
  • Catharine Savage Brosman (bio)

Liszt in Weimar

The Grand Duke was responsible, to start, inviting Liszt to Weimar for three months each year, to serve him in a special post as Kapellmeister extraordinaire. It was midcentury, or nearly—soon the time of revolution, turmoil in the air, wild aspirations among peoples, hopes for new republics, tyranny dissolved.

Already Weimar was a pharos—Bach, then Goethe, Wieland, Schiller, all had lived there; Duke Carl August had established rule by constitution, and his son would keep disorder from the streets. In forty-eight Liszt left the concert tour—a master still, phenomenal—and took up residence. The greater honor was the duke’s. Liszt’s friends,

drawn by his magnet, visited or sent their music for performance. And what friends! Von Bülow, Wagner, Schubert, Berlioz, and others. The premiere of Lohengrin was due to him; of Schumann’s Manfred too; and Liszt frenetically composed new works, then played them or conducted. Heady times, those were. As he had gone around the world

of concert halls before, the world now came to him. A woman friend had joined him—just, he thought, to spend a fortnight, planning next to take the waters. Having left her vast estate [End Page 285] in Russia, Carolyne Sayn-Wittgenstein arrived to stay, however—lover, muse, amanuensis, confidante. Thenceforth for thirteen years they lived as one. To wed,

though, was not possible: Marie d’Agoult— the mother of Liszt’s children—never was his wife; thus he was free; but Carolyne was married to a minor prince who loved her properties and had the czar’s support and ear. The liaison became at last notorious. Oddly devout, half-crazed, she sought annulment, while Liszt’s genius,

well complemented by great energy— an engine running on itself—pursued its paths, emitting trails of sparks, bright stars in music’s firmament. She left for Rome; he stayed in Weimar for another year, but caught misfortune’s eye: his grandson died; in Das Echo a vile attack appeared, approved by Clara Schumann and by Brahms;

the duke turned cool. Near fifty then, but worn, Liszt went to Paris, made the rounds, performed before such listeners as Wagner, Berlioz, Napoleon the Third—saw Delacroix, met Gounod, offered help to Baudelaire. Again in Weimar, fêted by three days of valedictories and concerts, Liszt bade his farewell and left for Italy—

the marriage, wrote Carolyne, arranged at last. The vows, it seems, would be pronounced the morning of his birthday. The church— the legend says—had been adorned with flowers. The couple took communion on the eve of the event. Near midnight, though, a knock was heard, and Carolyne, in nightdress, learned the dreadful news: objections being made, [End Page 286]

the pope must reconsider everything. The drama done, she did not try again. Her hope, which had flamed brilliantly, burned out— perhaps quite fake—scenarios of love, delusions, or a scheme that she devised— half toying with the future, half deceived— to satisfy her soul, yet let her play at holding genius by a wedding band.

Driftwood

The bridegroom from Ohio and his bride arrived in Colorado, penniless, and settled in the mountains to the west of Denver, where he hoped to pan for gold or stake a claim. Amanda’s family was prosperous, but she had been denounced and disinherited, because the man she chose as husband was (or seemed to be)

a ne’er-do-well; her sister, still at home, in favor, would inherit all. They lived, poor hermits, in a tent; the husband, weak perhaps already, suffered from the cold, fell ill, coughed blood, and could no longer work. Although a doctor from the foothills came (Amanda, swallowing her pride, had fetched him, owning that she could not pay withal),

there was no remedy, in fact. The hand of fate sketched out the sign of death, but waited. What few dollars they had saved fast drained away; and then a child was born, nursed meagerly as all the mother’s strength was drawn for it. The doctor often came, and from his own resources gave them food, wool blankets, medicine. Tubercular but obstinate, the...

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