The Shadow of Great Britain

270: Chapter 181: A Remarkable Song 270: Chapter 181: A Remarkable Song Although the concert was scheduled for tomorrow, the Coburg Theatre, which never worries about renting out its stage, chose to close its doors for a day to.

It set up the concert hall specifically for this illustrious gathering, disregarding the economic benefits.

From the décor inside the theater to the lighting on the stage, even the seating arrangement of the orchestra was subject to strict regulations.

However, no one could criticize the Coburg Theatre’s meticulousness after seeing the program for tomorrow night’s performance.

Look at the shining stars of the Britain music scene who were about to perform.

Ignaz Mozesales, Felix Mendelssohn, Cypriani Potter, John Field, and John Cramer.

The reason so many prominent pianists gathered here was singular; tomorrow night marked the official finale of Britain’s music scene leader—the father of the piano, Mr.

Muzio Clementi.

This absolute idol of Romantic pianists like Beethoven and Czerny, who once tied in a piano duel with Mozart at the Vienna Palace, was announcing his retirement from the music scene tomorrow night to better enjoy his retirement life.

Outside the theater at this moment, two young men riding English thoroughbreds were chatting merrily as they approached from the street.

If Arthur were here, he would definitely recognize one of them as his generous friend—Lionel Rothschild.

The other was a young man wearing a white ruffled shirt and a black tailcoat, tied with a burgundy bow tie.

Although his name wasn’t known, given he was conversing with Lionel in Yiddish, this gentleman must be a Jew from Germany.

The young men dismounted with the help of a servant and handed the reins to a staff member at the theater entrance responsible for watching over horses and carriages.

He spoke up, “Lionel, I never thought fox hunting could be such an interesting activity.”

A member of a hunting club, Lionel dismounted much more smoothly than his companion.

After a morning of hunting in the countryside, Lionel was evidently in good spirits.

He took a deep breath and said with a smile, “Felix, your grandfather and father are famous bankers in Germany.

With such wealth, didn’t you engage in any recreational activities other than piano?”

Felix Mendelssohn felt a bit awkward as he answered, “Although my family is quite wealthy, my mother’s control over me was very strict.

She trained me to play the piano and organ starting at four years old, along with Greek and painting lessons.

As for hunting, it was strictly forbidden in the Mendelssohn family’s education.

My parents and grandparents held somewhat old-fashioned views, considering hunting frivolous.

Throughout my childhood education, they were all focused on making my manners more refined, like those of a dignified, well-educated, and cultured nobleman.”

Hearing this, Lionel couldn’t help but joke, “It seems every wealthy Jewish family is the same in this regard.

Since our Rothschild family moved from the shabby ancestral home in the Jewish district of Frankfurt, we’ve also started trying to improve our outward appearance.

My grandfather Mayer loathed his poor little antiquarian status, and my father Nathan despised the word ‘nouveau riche.’ Consequently, all third-generation members of the Rothschild family, after completing home education, had to attend university.

According to my father, the old generation of Jews called this elevating the personal cultivation and academic tastes of the younger generation, in order to integrate better into high society.”

Mendelssohn, engrossed, then asked, “I think I heard you mention that you and your cousin Anthony studied together at the University of Gottingen?

Why didn’t you attend a British university instead of going to Hanover in Germany?”

Lionel was unreserved as he led Mendelssohn into the theater, explaining, “You don’t understand, Felix.

Universities in England are basically church schools.

At Oxford and Cambridge, you must adhere to the national religion to enroll, whereas the equally prestigious Durham University is a haven for Catholics.

When I was in university, the University of London, which admitted students regardless of religious beliefs, hadn’t been established yet.

If not for that, I naturally wouldn’t have needed to travel all the way to the University of Gottingen.”

But now that’s all settled.

Britain has the University of London, so when my younger brother Nathan reaches the right age, he can enroll nearby.

The only question now is whether Nathan needs to study at Harrow School or Winchester College first as a transitional measure before enrolling at the University of London.”

As they walked, Mendelssohn laughed and said, “First home education, then public school, followed by university, and ending with a few years of European travel.

Your Rothschild education track is indeed getting closer and closer to the norm for British high society families.”

“However, was it a bit inconsiderate to choose the University of London for your education?

After all, it’s a newly established school whose academic standards have yet to be formally tested.

Plus, I heard they can’t even award degrees yet, can they?”

Lionel just smiled and responded, “Felix, you are an outstanding pianist, but you don’t understand politics.

In my view, the Royal Charter for the University of London should be secured soon, and the school is home to many scholars.

As it stands under the patronage of Mr.

Bentham, its educational standards should be second to none, not even Cambridge or Oxford.”

“Moreover, the most important thing is that the University of London is already producing batches of outstanding talents.

The mere fact that they can cultivate so many excellent graduates is, in itself, a powerful testimony to their high teaching standards.”

Upon hearing this, Mendelssohn asked curiously, “Outstanding graduates?

Forgive my ignorance, Lionel, but could you remind me, who exactly has emerged from there as a notable scholar or distinguished figure?

I’ve been in the Apennines, Florence, and Rome recently, and I’m utterly clueless about what’s been happening in Britain.”

At this, Lionel simply smiled and placed his fingertip upon his lips, “Shh!

To know who has emerged from the University of London, you don’t need me to tell you; you just have to listen quietly.”

Mendelssohn frowned, completely baffled by his friend’s mysterious actions.

However, as he held his breath and the front hall fell silent, he suddenly heard a storm of music emanate from the auditorium, sounding like a sudden, fierce storm.

Mendelssohn’s eyes gradually widened, and he stared intently at Lionel for a good while before he finally uttered, “This is a madman.”

“Indeed.

This is truly a madman, but at the same time, a genius,” was the reply.

Lionel burst into laughter at Mendelssohn’s expression.

“Felix, when I first heard this piece, my reaction was similar to yours.

This ‘Bell’ seems indeed to be jesting with the listeners, from section B2 to the end of the piece, it’s all octaves, creating the feeling of a hundred bells ringing in unison with a single piano.

The everywhere visible rapid alternating fingerings and large jumps performed in both hands, and played so quickly.”

“To be frank, if I didn’t know who the performer was, I would definitely think it was Mr.

Muzio Clementi himself at the piano, for in the realm of piano, only he might be so obsessed with such technical complexities,” Lionel continued.

Mendelssohn, surprised, responded, “Is the performer not Mr.

Clementi?

I thought only he liked to incorporate such rapid sequences of sixths and octaves.

Wait a moment…”

Suddenly, Mendelssohn closed his mouth, listening again, and then suddenly spoke.

“Is that Paganini’s ‘La Campanella,’ performed by that Scotland Yard officer, Arthur Hastings?”

Lionel nodded slightly, “Remember what you just said?

Mr.

Hastings is indeed a graduate of the University of London.”

Upon hearing this, Mendelssohn could not help covering his forehead, “Is the University of London so successful in music education too?

In that case, it seems the Royal Academy of Music, with Mr.

Mozesales and Mr.

Potter at the helm, needs to step up.”

Lionel laughed and said, “That’s not necessarily the case.

Personally, I think that the emergence of someone like Mr.

Hastings is random.

In the short term, no school is likely to shake the Royal Academy of Music’s leading position in Britain’s music education.”

Mendelssohn, drawn in by the ‘Bell,’ was now itching to have a go himself.

He quickened his pace as he spoke, “Now I understand why Mr.

Mozesales insisted on inviting Mr.

Hastings to this concert.

Just from the musical style alone, Mr.

Hastings indeed shares similarities with Mr.

Clementi.

To meet a young man capable of carrying on his legacy before retiring, Mr.

Clementi must be very comforted.

A future Mr.

Clementi, hmm…

Surely the audience would also be pleased to see this title.”

Upon hearing this, Lionel complimented with a smile, “One is the future Mr.

Clementi and the other is the future Bach.

To witness these two genius pianists on the same stage, I am indeed fortunate to have booked four tickets in advance.”

Mendelssohn simply smiled and waved his hand, humbly saying, “I have only organized some of Mr.

Bach’s manuscripts and tried to imitate his style.

As for Mr.

Bach’s greatness, that is something I can never match.”

The two continued their conversation as they arrived at the auditorium.

As their boots stepped onto the theater’s deep red carpet, Arthur’s hand struck the final note with a force like drawing a sword from its sheath.

His slightly disheveled hair spilled carelessly, and the sunlight from the skylight glass slowly shifted and eventually settled on Arthur’s face, eyes tightly shut.

Standing still, Mendelssohn and Lionel couldn’t help but burst into applause, “An outstanding performance.”