“Both artists were endowed with an astonishing memory. They had at their command all the Italian, French, and German operas of importance, and could select, with marvellous readiness, motives adapted to the particular situation, and work them out so effectively and with such fervour that the actors—whose own achievements were by no means inconsiderable—called out from the stage, ‘Hold, you are too lavish with your beauties.’
“In the middle of the garden was an esplanade, commanding a view of the whole valley. A table, some stone benches, and a light garden seat seemed to invite the loiterer to stay and rest. The esplanade was surrounded by a strong iron railing, to prevent the children who played there from falling into the brook. The spot was noted for a wonderful echo, which repeated every word three or four times with perfect clearness. The children often amused themselves in what they called making the echo talk. One evening the thought occurred to somebody of bringing out the piano and letting the echo repeat fragments of romantic music. The idea met with universal approval, and the magnificent Erard Instrument was taken out on to the esplanade.
“It was a clear, still night in June; there was no moon, but in the place of her silvery light shone a countless host of stars. The piano was opened towards the valley, and Lisztʼs energetic hands performed the well-known hunting chorus from ‘Euryanthe.’ He stopped, of course, to wait for the echo after each pause. Even after the first we were all wild with enthusiasm; there was something marvellously poetic in nature thus echoing art. The musical phrase was too long both the first and second time for the echo to give it back clearly; but the third and fourth time the echo of the echo in the chorus was beautifully repeated, without missing a note, by the natural echo. Liszt himself felt the spell and quickened the time. Every phrase excited the liveliest curiosity and the most intense expectancy. One in particular swept with a sweet melancholy sound over the tops of the trees in the valley; but the last announced the triumph of the human will over the obstacles opposed by nature.
“After this most artistically managed Fanfare, Chopin took Lisztʼs place and made the echo sing and weep. He played some scraps from an impromptu which he was at that time composing. Fredericʼs delight over this diaphanous Æolian music knew no bounds; he continued his converse with the spirits of the valley much longer than Liszt had; it was a strange communion, a whispering and a murmuring like a magic incantation.