shadow of britain

Chapter 908 The composer is the highest form of expression for the pianist.

In the corridors of Buckingham Palace, the air seemed to be shrouded in heavy curtains, and even the echoes sounded hesitant.

A faint sound came from afar, the sound of the Royal Orchestra tuning their strings, sounding like the intermittent breaths of a suffocating beast.

Talberg sat in front of the mirror, his posture as perfect and proper as ever, but the look in his eyes inadvertently betrayed his inner tension and anxiety.

Although he and Liszt were the same age, they were both precocious musical prodigies.

However, there are clearly differences between child prodigies.

Liszt rose to fame at the age of thirteen with a concert at the Louvre Theatre in Paris, where he was already being compared to Mozart by the media, and all of Paris was captivated. This performance launched his illustrious touring career, and for the next twelve years, Liszt toured all over Europe.

Even in England, Liszt was quite famous, as he had performed solo for King George IV at Windsor Castle as early as 1825.

Thalberg made his debut performance in Vienna at the age of fourteen and was a great success. After that, he was sent to London by his mother, Baroness von Wetzlar, to study piano under Ignaz Mocheres, the music director of the London Philharmonic Society, along with Felix Mendelssohn.

Although Talberg was progressing rapidly, he clearly did not receive as much attention as Mendelssohn under Mr. Mocheres.

While Mendelssohn was already leading the London Philharmonic Society, Talberg was still Arthur Hastings's backup pianist in the Third Orchestra.

It wasn't until Arthur left the stage that Talberg finally got the chance to soar to new heights.

His continuous performances quickly garnered him a large following in London, and after achieving success there, he embarked on a tour of Europe.

In 1834, at the age of only twenty-two, Talberg was granted the title of "Court Musician" by Emperor Franz I of Austria.

In 1836, he made his debut at the Paris Conservatory concert hall, and this sensational success made him famous throughout Europe in a short period of time.

However, his seemingly unstoppable upward momentum came to an abrupt end after Liszt returned to Paris from his vacation.

Less than a week after returning to Paris, Liszt immediately held a solo recital at the Halle de l'Érard, announcing the triumph of the King of the Piano to all Parisians.

In retaliation against Liszt, just a week later, Talberg took to the stage at a series of musical evenings hosted by Mr. Pierre Zimmermann.

Not long after, Liszt performed again on March 9th, and Thalberg chose to perform at the Paris Conservatory Hall just three days later, once again igniting a Thalberg craze. The applause was so intense that Thalberg was unable to complete his piece, and afterwards, the Parisian media praised his exquisite piano skills as unparalleled, breathtaking, and nothing short of miraculous.

It is obvious that the proud King of Piano would never let such a report go unpunished.

Seven days later, Liszt spent a fortune to rent the opera house with 3,000 seats and held a matinee concert with his orchestra on March 19. The venue was not only packed, but he also broke the record for the highest single-show revenue in Paris, previously held by Talberg, which was 13,000 francs.

On the surface, Liszt and Talberg seemed to be evenly matched, going back and forth, with neither able to prove who was stronger.

Until the night of March 31st...

If he could choose again, Talberg doesn't know if he would still choose to attend that charity concert that raised money for Italian exiles...

Admittedly, Princess Christina Beljooso's assessment may not have been malicious, and judging from the performance that night, her judgment was indeed impartial.

Portrait of Princess Cristina Trivorzio Belgioso, painted by Italian artist Francesco Hayez in 1831.

However, the statement that "Thalberg is a first-rate pianist, while Liszt is unparalleled" still stung Thalberg's heart and damaged his reputation in the music world.

Talberg stared at himself in the mirror.

Those hands, long, perfect, and never making a mistake, were now trembling slightly.

The difference between "second to none" and "unparalleled in the world" may seem small, but the weight between them is enough to crush his self-esteem.

He slowly raised his hand, looking at the creased program, as if asking himself: "Tonight, will you win, or will you once again be the 'top performer'?"

He took a deep breath and was about to get up when there was a soft knock on the door.

"Who?"

“Excuse me, Siggi, I am Arthur Hastings.”

Talberg was taken aback.

He stood up almost instinctively, the chair leg sliding across the carpet with a dull thud.

He strode to the door and pushed it open.

The person standing outside the door was dressed in a dark black tailcoat, a pure white vest and a white scarf, along with slim-fitting trousers and slicked-back hair.

For a moment, Talberg was somewhat dazed, as if time had rewound seven years, back to the days when he was still Arthur's substitute pianist.

"Sir, what brings you here?"

“I wanted to greet you in person before the performance begins.” Arthur walked into the dressing room naturally, pulled up a chair and sat down. “You may not know, but I have high expectations for your performance tonight. Or rather, not only me, but also your teacher, Mr. Mocheres, and your senior, Felix Mendelssohn. They are both here tonight, and Felix even volunteered to open the show for you in the piano quartet.”

Talberg paused slightly: "Sir, I...I am very grateful to you, not only for those few defenses in the Paris newspapers, but also for giving me another chance to compete with Lister."

“You don’t need to thank me.” Arthur smiled and gestured for Talberg to sit down. “Opportunity is only half the battle; the other half is up to you to seize.”

Talberg's face was tense, and his fingertips unconsciously clenched the program.

Seeing his expression, Arthur couldn't help but laugh and ask, "Still thinking about what happened at Princess Bellejoso's charity concert?"

“Unforgettable.” Thalberg replied through gritted teeth, “Although the Parisian newspapers all say that Liszt and Thalberg are both winners, that it’s a win-win situation with no one losing, everyone knows that a loss is a loss, and I have no need to deceive myself. I was speechless at Liszt’s performance and am willing to admit that I have never heard such a wonderful playing. But that doesn’t mean I’m inferior.”

Arthur smiled and patted him on the shoulder: "Don't put too much pressure on yourself, you're still young."

Talberg took a deep breath: "I understand, Sir, but you know, the stage and the audience are always unforgiving."

He looked up, trying to force a smile, but his face was even paler than before.

Arthur looked at him and shook his head: "Don't be too hard on yourself, Siggi. At least that charity concert wasn't all painful. I heard the amount raised that night was quite substantial? Even the Parisian newspapers praised you and Liszt afterward for your contributions to the Italian exiles."

He paused, then added casually, "I suppose that money has come in handy now. The plight of the Italian exiles in France... is truly heartbreaking."

Talberg pursed his lips, clearly oblivious to the British cop's ill intentions: "Yes, that was probably the only thing that made me feel gratified at the concert. You know what? I even received a thank-you note from Mr. Mazzini later."

"Oh?" Arthur leaned forward slightly, his expression remaining calm. "The leader of the Italian exiles?"

“That’s right.” Talberg nodded. “He thanked me in the letter, saying that the funds helped them set up a new printing press in Marseille and also paid for the food and lodging of the exiled Carbonari patriots. The letter was short, but it gave me a long-lost sense of…meaning. Perhaps…sometimes music shouldn’t just serve vanity and applause.”

Arthur's lips twitched, as if in a smile: "You're right, Siggi. If music can't change anything, even just one person's fate, then it's too insignificant."

He paused, then casually continued, "That letter... do you still have it?"

“Of course I’ll keep it.” Talberg turned around and poured Arthur a cup of tea. “I always cherish letters like this.”

Arthur nodded slightly, saying enviously, "I really hope I'll have the chance to see that letter. Although I've received letters from fans before, all those letters combined don't carry the weight of yours."

Talberg smiled slightly, seemingly touched: "If you'd like to see it after the performance, I'll have someone deliver a letter to your residence. It's a token of my gratitude for your help, and also... a commemoration of that night." "I'd be honored." Arthur slowly rose, adjusting the white gloves on his cuffs: "Then I won't disturb your preparations any longer. Sigir, remember one thing tonight: the London audience doesn't have any bias towards Lister. Just give it your all, and everything will fall into place."

Talberg rose to see him off, saying, "Understood, Sir. I also wish you a successful premiere of your new piece."

Arthur pushed open the dressing room door, and the long corridors of Buckingham Palace became unusually quiet for a moment.

He glanced back and saw Talberg bending over to arrange the sheet music, his shoulders slightly tense, like a bowstring that had not yet been released.

Arthur didn't say anything more, turned around and walked forward along the red-carpeted corridor.

The air outside was much fresher, and it was a better place for him to keep his mind clear compared to the locker room.

As soon as he turned the corner, he saw a man leaning against the wall, cursing and swearing in the direction of the guest seating area, his tone full of the anxiety and absurdity of a German petty bourgeois.

"What a terrible fate! I couldn't escape it even at Buckingham Palace!"

Arthur raised an eyebrow and couldn't help but laugh: "I really didn't expect that, Heinrich, you could even find a reason to complain in the Queen's palace."

Heine was startled. He turned his head and saw that it was Arthur. He then relaxed and said, "Damn it! Arthur, you have no idea what I just saw! Luckily, I was just pretending to be your attendant tonight, instead of sitting in the guest seats."

Arthur took a few steps closer and asked with interest, "What? You saw Benjamin? Didn't I tell you before that he received an invitation to tonight's concert?"

“Benjamin? Benjamin Disraeli? That shameless fellow isn’t worth getting so worked up about.” Heine straightened his scarf. “I saw my cousin’s husband!”

"Cousin's husband?" Arthur blinked, completely taken aback by the answer. "You mean your rival? Your ex?"

“Yes!” Heine lowered his voice slightly, but his anger remained undiminished: “That hypocritical Mocheres! You know him, don’t you? The music director of the London Philharmonic Society! A professor at the London Academy of Music! He’s in this concert tonight too!”

Arthur was stunned for a moment upon hearing this: "Wait, you mean, Ignaz Mochelles is your cousin's husband?"

“Otherwise?” Heine’s eyes flashed with a mixture of humiliation and jealousy as he said bitterly, “He married my cousin, my poor, innocent cousin who was still playing Schubert’s serenades! A young girl from Dresden, not even twenty years old at the time, was tricked away by this old man!”

Arthur felt that Heine's words were unfair, because he remembered that Mochelles got married when he was thirty. Although thirty is not young, he was by no means an old man, was he?

But even though he thought this way, in order to prevent himself from developing "German hemorrhoids," he had no choice but to yield to Heine.

Arthur tilted his head slightly, seemingly suppressing a laugh: "I've heard that Mrs. Mocheres plays the piano exceptionally well."

“Of course she plays well!” Heine scoffed. “I taught her myself!”

At this point, Heine seemed somewhat dejected: "My cousin is now sitting next to Mocheres, dressed in high fashion from Paris, watching top European musicians perform at Buckingham Palace, while I can only sneak backstage as an attendant! Is there anything more ridiculous in the world?"

Upon hearing this, Arthur couldn't hold back any longer and said, "This at least proves that your cousin didn't marry the wrong person."

"Arthur!" Heine couldn't help but roar, "This isn't something that can be resolved by signing a few bills!"

Just as Heine was about to explode, Elder's voice suddenly rang out at the end of the corridor: "Girls, aren't girls everywhere? Heinrich, why are you so hung up on this?"

"Damn it!" Heine rolled his eyes. "Shut your mouth! You don't even understand romance!"

“Romantic?” Elder shrugged. “Perhaps I don’t understand it, but I do understand the port. The girls in the port are like your cousin; they also like men who can play the piano, but once a man can take them away, they will stop singing the songs you wrote.”

"Shut up!" Heine's face flushed red, and he almost rushed forward to grab him by the collar.

Arthur quickly reached out to stop him: "Alright, alright, Heinrich, don't take Elder seriously. His mouth always beats his brain, you can't learn from him, can you?"

Heine angrily let go of her hand: "My cousin is different, she's not that kind of superficial woman!"

Elder wanted to tease him a bit more, but seeing Heine's temper, which was unlike Dumas's easygoing nature, he had no choice but to give up and said, "Alright, Heinrich, after the performance tonight, let's go to Leicester Place, and I'll buy you a drink. If you still insist that the girls are indeed different then, then I'll apologize to you."

Arthur looked at his two troublesome friends and couldn't help but shake his head: "Leicester Square? I advise you to take it easy."

"What? Afraid we'll cause trouble if we drink too much?"

"Causing trouble is the least of your worries," Arthur warned. "Recently, due to Leopold's visit to Britain, the Home Office and the Foreign Office have been keeping a close eye on the security situation in London. Areas like Leicester Square, where cases are frequent, are naturally a key target for Scotland Yard. If you absolutely must go, remember to let Scotland Yard know in advance."

As soon as Arthur finished speaking, a burst of lively and cheerful string music suddenly came from the direction of the concert hall.

The moment the strings began to play, the air in the entire palace seemed to tremble slightly.

Arthur stopped, his expression changing slightly: "It's starting."

That was the overture to "The Barber of Seville," a masterpiece by the opera master Rossini, and it's also the overture to tonight's concert.

……

The hall was brightly lit, with crystal chandeliers hanging from the dome, their light flowing like a torrent of gold.

The air was filled with the mixed scent of candles and roses, and music surged forth from directly in front of the stage.

At the very front and center of the guest seating area sat Queen Victoria, who was only eighteen years old at the time.

Tonight, she chose an eye-catching pale gold silk satin gown, with the Garde Star emblem pinned to her chest, symbolizing her status as the Grand Master of the Garde Knights.

To her right sat Leopold I, who was dressed in a Belgian military uniform with silver trim and four medals lined up on his chest.

Leopold has received numerous medals, but the ones he chose to wear tonight were clearly carefully selected. In addition to the Grand Cross of Leopold, which symbolizes his status as Grand Master of the Order of Leopold of Belgium, he also wore the Order of the Garter, the Order of Bath, and the Royal Order of Guelph from the Kingdom of Hanover.

Sitting next to him was Queen Louise-Marie de Orléans of Belgium. Fortunately, her face shape was not significantly influenced by her father, Louis Philippe, so she did not look as pear-shaped as he did. Otherwise, such a blow would have been too great for a young woman.

Portrait of Queen Louise Marie of Belgium, painted in 1841 by the German artist Franz Xaver Winterhalter.

Victoria's left side was occupied by her mother, the Duchess of Kent.

The Duchess of Kent was dressed in her usual lavish style, with pearls and amethysts piled around her neck.

She smiled and occasionally whispered to Queen Adelaide beside her. It seemed that their relationship had indeed improved since her daughter ascended the throne. At least in public, the Duchess of Kent no longer showed any jealousy towards Adelaide.

As for Queen Adelaide, she still looked haggard and seemed unable to recover from her husband's passing. She rarely spoke, only occasionally nodding slightly as the music rose and fell, as if she were accompanying Mr. Costa's conducting.

Seated beside them were members of the royal family, including the Duke and Duchess of Cambridge, the Duke and Duchess of Gloucester, and several of Victoria's elderly aunts.

During this concert, those who could stand alongside members of the royal family were only the generals who had distinguished themselves in the Napoleonic Wars.

Leading the group was the Duke of Wellington, the hero of Waterloo.

The Duke sat upright in the center-right position, right next to the Leopolds. His back was still straight, but whenever the music reached its climax, he would frown slightly, as if trying to distinguish the layers of the notes.

Seeing the Duke of Wellington's state, Leopold couldn't help but get up and switch places with his wife, leaning forward to speak to him: "Can you hear the performance clearly?"

Upon hearing this, the Duke of Wellington replied, "I am trying, Your Majesty!"

(End of this chapter)