Chapter IX: Part 9

Many thanks for your kind letter; I had nothing particular to tell you, or would have replied to you sooner. In addition to this I was ill during the whole first half of November, which was more than I had bargained for, especially as it interrupted my work in the most unpleasant manner. Now I am well again and all will be right. I am looking forward to the Mass and "Dante" which you promise to send to me. Mind you keep your word. I have asked the Hartels to send you proof sheets of the first act of "Tristan." Perhaps you have received them by this time. The Hartels treat me with much forbearance. At first when I thought that the score would be finished this autumn, I prodded them on terribly. Since then I have left them miserably in the lurch. Before the end of December I cannot think of sending them the second act. I cannot help this, because I must wait for the most favourable mood to go on with the work. The "Nibelungen" question has also been mooted again by us. I shall have these things engraved now, and shall leave the discussion of the honorarium till after the performance. In this matter a very droll intermezzo has been played, or rather it has not been played out yet, because its conclusion will probably take place in a few days. I shall relate this adventure to you when it is finished.

My affairs are in a somewhat miserable condition. "Rienzi" is not getting on in spite of the continued success of the Dresden revival. The first disappointment came from Munich where I had expected to get an honorarium of fifty louis d'or. They wrote to me that the reading committee objected to the subject on RELIGIOUS grounds. I pity that dear religion! It is partly your fault that it is put to such uses now; why do you write beautiful Masses for the parsons? From Hanover also I expected an immediate remittance, and could not understand the delay, when I heard that Niemann, after having heard Tichatschek in "Rienzi", did not feel competent to sustain the part with equal voice-power. Therefore it was given up. Breslau alone is sufficiently bold, and will venture upon it. I wish I could find some one who would do justice to the real character of the part, in which case he need not be afraid of singing it even before Tichatschek. I have hinted so much to Niemann. I am thus, once more, reduced to my old capital, "Tannhauser" and "Lohengrin", and they are no longer sufficient for my present difficult position.

D. wrote to me five and a half lines, inquiring as to my terms. You probably know my reply. I wish the inhuman creature had sent me the money at once. Good Lord, what Jacks-in-office you all are! None of you can put himself in the place of a poor devil like me who looks upon every source of income as a lucky draw in a lottery. Please, tread gently upon his toe.

K. R. left me today, probably for a few weeks, in order to congratulate his mother on her birthday at Dresden. If he finds it possible he will pay you a visit at Weimar.

W. remains with me in his place; he arrived from Vienna with a Russian family a month ago, in order to spend the winter here. Fortunately, he keeps quiet and does not molest me, for being by myself is the boon which I enjoy, and watch over with painful care. In the Square I am literally run after by foreign princes; one of them, D., who boasts of knowing you personally, I was unable to avoid. He lives where I have my dinner and, occasionally, waylays me. He is an odd and apparently good- natured person. Today he dropped down upon me with much enthusiasm between the soup and the cutlets, in order to tell me that he had heard one of your symphonic poems beautifully played on the piano, and by whom? By a Venetian music-teacher, who has been made an enthusiast for German music by you and me. This amused me very much. D. also has been gained for your cause. What more can you desire? And all this happened in the Square of St. Mark at dinner, the weather being infamously cold.

Be of good cheer then, and may God bless you. Continue to love me. Write to me soon, and greet Altenburg a thousand times for

Your

R. W.

276.

VENICE, November 26th, 1858.

I enclose you a beautiful autograph.

I cannot tell you how comic it appears to me that I have to transact Weimar business with F. D. I have a good mind to tell HIM that he had better leave my opera alone. Weimar has lost all its charm for me since I have to meet so formal a person before I can get at you and the Grand Duke. You are a very tedious set of people.

You told me two years ago that you were in possession of a score of "Rienzi" which I had left there on my flight. If that is so, I should be glad if you would not attach much importance to its possession. My original score is always at your disposal in case, as I scarcely believe, you should care much about this opus. I have only a very few copies left. At the time I had no more than twenty-five copies made, more than half of which I have squandered away. If it MUST be, get a copy from Fischer in Dresden, and submit it reverentially in my name to the great Dingelstedt. Have you had your score altered by Fischer? In the third act there is a long cut and a change necessitated by it which I made for Hamburg.

Good Lord! it is miserable that one has to take all this trouble for a little money. I am once more confined to my room, and cannot even get up from my chair; a neglected abscess in my leg causes me terrible pain; sometimes in the middle of my music I call out loudly, which has a very fine effect.

Have the Hartels sent you the first act of "Tristan?" You will have copies of the poem before long.

Farewell for today. I have to indulge in a few shrieks, which in a letter would not sound well.

A thousand greetings--oh!

From your

R. W. (oh!!)

Have I really to wait for the wretched twenty-five louis d'or-- oh!!--till after the PERFORMANCE? Lord only knows when that will take place--oh!!

277.

VENICE, December 5th, 1858.

I made haste, dearest friend, to write to D. in accordance with your summons sent to me through our Princess.

I wrote to him that doubts had arisen in me whether I still desired the performance of "Rienzi" at Weimar, and I ask you to agree with me and give up the plan. If anything could have induced me to push my "Rienzi" at this time of day it would, as you will understand, have been the desire of deriving a good income from it, such as would have been welcome in my poor and uncertain condition. In itself I look upon this revival as an anachronism which, moreover, would be quite premature. After the recent great success of the opera at Dresden I was in hopes that the rapid sale of this opus would supply me with sufficient means for my present wants. That hope, however, has been deceived in the most important points, especially with regard to Munich and Hanover, as I recently informed you. By offering this opera broadcast I had to humiliate my pride very much, and I have now become very sensitive as to this matter. At Weimar, too, the opera is, properly considered, an intruder, and is evidently being looked upon as such. You enlightened me upon this point last winter, when you explained to me the reason for its delay. But I do not desire that you should force this juvenile production upon any one in Weimar. The reasons for keeping on good terms on such an occasion with this person or that person do not exist for me, and my sincere wish is, that they should not exist for you either. In this matter we two should agree. Whether or not I perform my "Nibelungen" at some future time is at bottom a matter of indifference to me. I shall complete it in any case, for my enthusiasm and strength for such works I do not derive from any hopes, for the realisation of which I should require certain people. All that the world and my "admirers" and "worshippers" of whom I have to hear so much can do for me, is to look upon my whole situation in a serious and sympathetic light, and to do all in their power to ease my heavy cares and to preserve to me the pleasure and leisure which I require for my work. Beyond this I want nothing. But to attain it, very different efforts are necessary from those which have hitherto come to my knowledge.

Enough of this. I can do without the Weimar honorarium and douceur for "Rienzi," which, in any case, would come too late to be of service to me. By next Easter, till which time I should have to wait, I shall be able to help myself in other ways; in the meantime it will be a hard struggle, but I shall manage somehow.

Even the Weimar receipts would, unfortunately, not have enabled me to repay your 1,000 francs.

To sum up: you will, undoubtedly, save yourself much trouble and unpleasantness by giving up "Rienzi." If you have Tichatschek in the spring let him sing Lohengrin; that will give you much more pleasure.

Imagine that for a week and a half I have not been able to move from my chair. This illness was just what was required to finish me up. I had just resumed my work a little, after a gastric and nervous indisposition, when I was obliged to give in again. However, I am getting better, and hope to be able to walk and work again next week.

Farewell, and be pressed to my heart a thousand times.

Your

R. W.

278.

DEAREST RICHARD,

Hartel has sent me a divine Christmas present. All the children in the world cannot be so delighted with their trees and the golden apples and splendid gifts suspended thereon as I, in my own person, am with your unique "Tristan." Away with all the cares and tribulations of every-day existence! Here one can weep and glow again. What blissful charm, what undivined wealth of beauty in this fiery love-potion! What must you have felt while you created and formed this wondrous work? What can I tell you about it beyond saying that I feel with you in my heart of hearts!

However, in my capacity of practical friend, I must speak to you of commonplace things. Your negative answer to D., much as it grieved me in many respects, came at the RIGHT MOMENT. I proposed, as you know, "Rienzi" for performance eighteen months ago, and your small opinion of my small influence on our affairs is, unfortunately, too correct. Without troubling you with the details of local matters, I only tell you that I quite approve of your conduct, reserving to myself, however, the right of asking for your "Rienzi" if a favourable moment for the performance of this opera, long desired by me, should arrive. In the first instance, the "Prophet" and Auber's "Bal Masque" are to be given, and I, for my part, have declared that I shall not enter the orchestra for some time to come. By next spring I hope your personal affairs will have taken a more favourable turn, to which I may, perhaps, be able to contribute something. When "Tristan" is completed, and you have sent the dedication copy to the Grand Duchess of Baden, you must write to me at length as to what remains to be done.

With K. R., who delighted me with a visit of several days, I discussed a good many things which he will shortly communicate to you. I flatter myself that he has taken a good impression away with him, and that some old friendly associations will be even more firmly established in years to come. His musical gift appears very considerable to me, and I have advised him to concentrate himself on an operatic subject, which he had better arrange for himself. You should encourage him in this; by your advice and influence he will no doubt achieve something excellent, and a musico-dramatic work will help him to proper recognition in the quickest and best way.

I wanted to send you the "Dante" symphony for the new year, but the corrections have taken me longer than I expected, and the publication will not take place before January. I shall send you a respectable parcel, for the Gran Mass will also be included in it. I wish I could bring you these things personally, stay with you, accompany you in "Tristan." Let us hope that the new year will put an end to our separation, and chain us to each other in the body, as we are already in spirit and heart.

Your

F. L.

December 26th, 1858.

You may expect a dedication from the composer of the opera D. v. S.; accept it in a friendly spirit, although you will find yourself in the strange company of Meyerbeer. The composer is well inclined towards you, of which I recently had a very convincing proof. Do not mention this until the dedication actually reaches you. Later on you will probably have to write a few lines in reply.

279.

Cordial thanks for your New Year's greeting, dearest Richard. I expect to see the explanation of the last words of your telegram in your next letter, for I have no knowledge of the event which you describe as "wonderfully miserable." In certain quarters, however, the MISERABLE appears no longer WONDERFUL to me. I hope the new year will bring some things to a better issue, and have many good things in store for you. Enclosed I send you this week's repertoire of the Weymar theatre, in which you will see the announcement of "Lohengrin" for next Sunday. For the first time I shall not conduct this work to which I am attached with my whole soul. "Tannhauser" also I have left to my colleague, and when I come to explain to you the circumstances which determine me to this negative attitude, I feel sure that you will see in it no neglect of my artistic conviction, much less of my duty as a friend to you.

If your operas have elsewhere been given for the purpose of getting money, the responsibility lies with those concerned; but here, where these works have been guarded and watched with so much love, I cannot make myself an accomplice of the brutal mercantile spirit in which they are now regarded, especially not after we two have been treated with such total want of consideration in this "Rienzi" affair, which has been allowed to drag on for more than eighteen months.

As I said in my last letter, I fully approve of your resolution not to sell "Rienzi" to the management here. If you should be applied to by letter I ADVISE YOU TO MAKE NO CONCESSION. If the time for relenting should come I shall send you word; you know how deeply your interests concern me.

In the first instance, the "Prophet," "Bal Masque," "Don Pasquale," and "Antigone", have to be studied and performed, which will leave no time or goodwill for "Rienzi." As regards goodwill, C. R. can relate to you the circumstances of the first performance of Cornelius's opera, when my passive attitude during this season will be explained to you. Really I often require the patience beseeming a confrater of the Franciscan order to bear so many intolerable things.

Your

F. L.

January 1st, 1859.

280.

VENICE, January 2nd, 1859.

MY DEAR FRANZ,

The time has come when I must once more speak with calmness and in a decisive manner of the subject which has been so rich a source of my life's troubles, and which last New Year's Eve caused the storm I let loose upon you, no doubt to your sorrow. Such storms must not occur again, that I feel deeply. Even this last attack was caused only by a moment of the most violent excitement. I must, in fact, undergo an absolute change in order to gain a position more worthy of myself. It is for this reason that I apply to you, for the last time, and perhaps it would be better if I did not trouble you in the matter, even for this last time. But if I omitted to do so at the moment when I am about to take a decisive step, I might perhaps have to reproach myself with having neglected my nearest, most helpful, and most influential friend in an unaccountable manner.

Let me come to the point.

After living in exile for ten years, my amnesty has become of less importance to me than the guarantee of an existence free from care and secure from discomfort for the rest of my life. Do not be surprised. The return to Germany is of relative value to me. The only positive gain would be my seeing you often and living together with you. The possible performances of my operas under my direction, would certainly bring me less enjoyment than exertion, care, trouble, and annoyance. I never had much pleasure in the performance of one of my operas, and shall have much less in future. My ideal demands have increased, compared with former times, and my sensitiveness has become much more acute during the last ten years while I lived in absolute separation from artistic public life. I fear that even you do not quite understand me in this respect, and you should believe my word all the more implicitly. Your nature and position in life and in the world are so entirely different from mine that you can scarcely realise my sensitiveness in this respect from your own consciousness.

Believe me implicitly when I tell you that the only reason for my continuing to live is the irresistible impulse of creating a number of works of art which have their vital force in me. I recognise beyond all doubt that this act of creating and completing alone satisfies me and fills me with a desire of life, which otherwise I should not understand. I can, on the other hand, do quite well without any chance of a performance. I see clearly that before the completion of "Tristan" my amnesty would absolutely place me in an awkward position; no expectation, not even that of producing "Lohengrin", could induce me to leave my present place of abode before I had finished my work. From this you may guess at other things. Any offer of a secured and comfortable existence would be of no value to me if it were coupled with the condition of my accepting the amnesty, and of doing certain services made possible thereby. I cannot and shall not accept an appointment or anything resembling it. What I demand, on the other hand, is the settlement upon me of an honourable and large pension, solely for the purpose of creating my works of art undisturbed and without regard for external success.

Being without property or subvention of any kind, I have to rely for my income upon my operas. He who has real knowledge of the nature of my works, and who feels and esteems their peculiar and differentiating qualities, must see that I, in my position towards such an institution as our theatre, ought to be entirely relieved from the necessity of making commercial articles of my works. Any just-minded man must perceive that it would be quite unworthy of me to relinquish my freedom by giving my operas to managers without stipulating for their artistic interest, without choice, without preference for any particular theatre, or even by being compelled to offer them to such managers. This necessity has already filled me with much painful bitterness, and the worst of it is that even if I suppress my sense of honour to that extent, the receipts accruing to me are of such a nature that they place me, pecuniarily speaking, in a painful and alarming position. At times those receipts come in plentifully and unexpectedly, and in consequence bring with them all of a sudden perfect security and a certain tempting plenty. At other times they fall off for a long period and again quite unexpectedly; and this falling off, just because it could not be foreseen, is followed by want, care, and tribulation. If this is to be mended I must be relieved from the necessity of counting upon these receipts, and be placed in a position which will enable me to look upon them as an accidental increase of resources, which I can employ in adding certain comforts to my existence, and which I am able to dispense with without interfering with my sufficient and settled income, as soon as I find it desirable to withhold my operas from those theatres, the strength or the direction of which does not enable me to credit them with honest zeal for my work. In this manner, and by the position towards our abominable theatrical institutions thus attained, I should be protected by my contemporaries, and enabled to continue my creations in accordance with my earnest desire and with the peculiarity of my artistic nature. An ample and fully secured pension can alone do this for me, and only a combination of several German princes whom I have inspired with sympathy can accomplish the desired object.

On such a combination I should have to insist, for the reason, more especially, that this pension, if it is to fulfil its object and to satisfy my somewhat refined and not altogether ordinary wants, must amount to at least 2,000 or 3,000 thalers. I do not blush in naming such a sum. My experience of what I want in accordance with my nature, and, perhaps I should add, the nature of my works, teaches me that I cannot well do with less; and on the other hand, it is well known that artists like Mendelssohn (although he was rich), have received equally large honorary salaries from one single quarter.

I ask you therefore, definitely and finally, whether you will take the initiative in this matter? At the same time I would draw your attention to the fact that, after mature consideration, I must abide by the character of my demand. An appointment at Weimar, although it might leave me at perfect liberty and even be equal to yours, I could not accept, because the salary would not be sufficient for my purpose. It would not help me radically, and would therefore imply all the dangers of a palliative measure. Once more, I require an absolute settlement of my external circumstances, which will provide for and exercise a decided influence on my future artistic creativeness. I shall be forty- six next birthday, and therefore speak of about ten years at the utmost.

If you have reasons for not entering into my request, or for declining to concern yourself with it personally, let me know plainly and definitely. I could explain those reasons from your peculiar position, and they would not in the least interfere with our friendship. Let me know in that case whether you advise me to apply MYSELF to the Grand Duke of Weimar, in order to induce him to place himself at the head of the aforesaid combination of princes. If you do not think this advisable, I am determined to ask D. whether he will intercede for me with another prince. If he also refuses, my last resource will be to apply to that prince myself. On the success of this step will depend my further relations to Germany, as to which in such circumstances I have quite made up my mind.

My request, whether it be addressed to you, or D., or one of the princes, will be accompanied by a clear and convincing exposition of my circumstances, my position towards the artistic world, and my individual qualities, and wants. At the same time I shall state precisely what I promise to do in return for such a pension. In the first instance, and whether my return to Germany will be granted or not, I shall undertake to continue the creation of new works. All my works, present and future, will be given to the various court theatres gratis. Finally, as soon as I am allowed to return to Germany I will, by special desire, undertake to superintend in person the study and production of my operas, and, if it should be wished, of other works, the representation of which would be for the benefit and honour of art.

This letter, dear Franz, is the first I have written in this fateful new year 1859. It is addressed to you, and deals with a subject which will be of decisive influence on my future life. May Heaven and our friendship reward it with success!

Answer me soon definitely and decisively, for I repeat that I do not want my request to be in any way connected with the amnesty. A thousand cordial greetings to the ladies, to whom I shall soon write a pleasant letter.

Your

R. W.

281.

DEAREST FRANZ,

Have you NOTHING AT ALL to say to me? What is to become of me, if EVERY ONE ignores me?

Your

R.

VENICE.

282.

MY DEAR FRANZ,

On reading my letter again, you will probably have discovered what was the meaning of my jocular complaint--"You answer me much too pathetically and seriously." You must have seen by the exact terms of my letter, somewhat loosely worded though it was, that by your answer I meant the manner in which you speak of my conduct towards D. with regard to "Rienzi." As this part of my letter has remained obscure to you, I add the following words of explanation. My letter about the withdrawal of "Rienzi" was written with a view to being shown, because I had referred D. to you. I thought, however, you would see that I was annoyed by the difficulties he made about the honorarium, and by the remote date for which payment was promised. I was in hopes that my letter discussing the withdrawal of the opera would help me quickly to the honorarium, and perhaps increase the amount a little. I had unfortunately reckoned upon this income before the new year, and relied upon it all the more because I had on a former occasion explained my difficult position to your sympathetic heart. When I forwarded D.'s last letter to you my intention was to complain of his pedantic statement: "The honorarium will be paid to you after the first performance,"--a statement to which I am no longer accustomed at any other theatre. I further hoped to induce you-- as indeed I clearly indicated--to effect at least the immediate payment of the honorarium. As my letter about the withdrawal of "Rienzi" was written with a view to being shown, it may very likely have puzzled you; but I know that it was intended only to frighten D., and to supply you with a weapon for forcing him into a decent and business-like attitude. In consequence, I hoped that the success of this little manoeuvre would secure me the receipt of the wretched twenty-five louis d'or before the new year. Upon this sum I looked as my only certainty, because you were there to get it for me, while the moneys which I expected from other quarters represented only so many hopes which might be delusive. At last New Year's Eve came. My money was all gone; my watch, the snuff-box of the Grand Duke, and the bonbonniere of the Princess, the only valuables I possess, had been pawned; and of the money I had got for them only one and a half napoleons remained. When, on New Year's Eve, on entering my lonely room, I found your letter, I confess I was weak enough to hope that it would announce to me the imminent arrival of the twenty-five louis d'or, in consequence of the successful demonstration against D. which I thought I had made. Instead of this, I found, in reference to this matter, a serious explanation of your relations with D., which, as I see from this letter, have already become matter of bitter and troublesome experience to you. I had foreseen this, and made you silent reproaches when D. was called to Weimar through your means. I quite understood that, owing to prolonged irritation, you were, on receipt of my last letter, in a mood which misled you as to the character of my threat to withdraw "Rienzi." You recognized in me also the sympathetic annoyance at all the unworthy things we meet with, and you overlooked the fact that a poor devil like me cannot afford to be serious. Therefore you entered seriously and bitterly into my withdrawal of "Rienzi," which, after the insults you had received, was welcome to you, and I, for my part, had to witness on that wretched New Year's Eve the destruction of my last secret, but none the less certain, hope of receiving money. The great disappointment of that moment would, at any other time, have probably made me reticent and silent, but the long-expected and ardently-longed- for boon of your sympathy for "Tristan" evoked in me a kind of convulsive excitement. Once more, your joy at my first act had brought you so near to my innermost heart that I thought I might, at such a moment, make the most outrageous demand on you. That feeling I expressed, if I remember rightly, in the words, "For my paroxysm of joyous excitement your delight at 'Tristan' is responsible." Dearest friend, at that moment I could not even think of the possibility of a misunderstanding. Everything being so certain and infallible between us, I went to the opposite extreme of reproaching you because you had left me in the lurch with regard to money matters, and because you had taken my diplomatic demonstration against D. in a much too earnest and pathetic sense, my only interest in him being comprised in a little money. I further indicated that the various considerations, which to you, being on the spot, and holding an official position, might appear serious and of great moment, did not exist for me at all, the only connection between myself and the theatres, and their public art, being solely that of money.

THAT OF MONEY! Yes, so it is; and with that you reproach me. You should rather pity me. Do you not think that I should prefer your position in regard to the performance of your own works because money is no object to you? My first letter of this year will have shown you that I also am capable of considering the matter in a serious and literally pathetic, i.e., suffering mood.

Enough of this. Your letter, received today, has affected me deeply, as you will easily understand. Yet I am calm and full of hope. Your curious misunderstanding in applying my reproach, that you answer me in "too earnest and pathetic a style," to your delight at "Tristan", must by this time have become clear to yourself. I feel quite confident that any unprejudiced friend, to whom you may show our last letters, will persuade you, in spite of your prejudice, that my humorous and playfully extravagant reproach referred only to your idea of my intended withdrawal of "Rienzi," and, generally speaking, to the expectation I had of D. and the whole slough of our German operatic theatres. You now know the position which excited me to this kind of desperate humour, and I hope it will be a long time before I again have to change my last napoleon at the telegraph office.

It is you, dear friend, who are suffering and needing comfort; for the extraordinary letter which you found it possible to send me can only have sprung from a terrible mental irritation. I hope in the meantime that this lengthy explanation and disclosure of the misunderstanding into which you had succeeded in falling will be some comfort to you. I have none other to offer. If your irritation concerned me alone, this letter should dispel it altogether. Let me further assure you that you have hurt me in no way, for your arrows did not hit me; their barbs stuck in your own heart. This letter, I hope, will free you of them.

One more thing let me ask you today. Do not answer my letter of January 2nd. Look upon it as if it had not been written, or, at least, not received. I am fully aware that you are not able to put yourself in my place with such goodwill and understanding as would enable you to do justice to my letter. Please forget it altogether; in that case, I will on my part pardon your reproaches, you curious, dear, dear friend.

Farewell for today.

I am sure I have not lost you.

Your

RICHARD WAGNER.

VENICE, January 7th, 1859.

In order to set your mind at rest, I inform you that, by a curious and lucky accident, some money, which I had long expected and already despaired of, arrived here from Vienna in the first week of the new year. My three valuables (let a kind world forgive me this luxury!) are out of pawn. For the present I am provided for, and do not apprehend any new stoppage of my resources just yet.

May the friendly remembrance of me be revived in you.

Your

RICHARD W.

283.

Your greeting, dearest Richard, has brought me the enchanting forgetfulness of all that should ever be far from us. Receive my thanks, and let us continue to suffer patiently together.

Before you had written to ask me not to mention your proposal, I had communicated it at some length in the proper quarter. As I might have expected, after numerous similar conversations (which I never mention to you) there were several reasons for not accepting it. Perhaps I shall be able to broach the subject again later on, and obtain a more favourable result; to the extent, I mean, that a small sum will be sent to you. Anything more cannot be hoped for.

I must ask you to believe that I am extremely grieved always to have to tell you things of this kind.

In your letter to Princess M. you speak of a change of abode, and of your desire to settle in a large town. In case, against my sincere hope, the permission to return to Germany should be permanently refused to you, and you prefer to live in a large town, I still think that Paris would be the most comfortable, the most convenient, and even the cheapest place for you. I know your dislike of this city pleine de boue et de fumee; but I think that if you were to live there for any length of time you would feel more at home, apart from which we should be tolerably near each other, so that I might visit you frequently.

Have you had any further news from Carlsruhe? The newspapers continue to announce a performance of "Tristan" in September, and I do not relinquish the hope that at that time a favourable turn in your affairs will take place. Anyhow, this summer must not pass without our seeing each other.

Once more, thanks for your greeting; the song is indescribably beautiful.

Most cordially your

F. L.

WEYMAR, February 17th, 1859.

From Vienna you will soon receive through my cousin a small collection of NOTES.

All that is kind to C. R.

284.

VENICE, February 22nd, 1859.

I have just received your letter; as I am expecting R. and W., who may come in at any moment, I must defer answering you at length until tomorrow. But I will not go to bed today without thanking you most sincerely for the great benefit you have conferred upon me by your letter. I am often in a state of convulsive excitement, and must then look very ugly. But that state has now disappeared entirely; you took it away today.

I shall say more about this tomorrow, and you will find me in a willing frame of mind for confessing my sins.

One word more. If I have understood your short hint rightly, let me ask you, for Heaven's sake, not to send me any money now. I could not bear it. Send me your "Ideals," and, when it is ready, your "Dante;" those I am looking for longingly.

The boys have just come in; the well-brought-up K. thanks you a thousand times for your remembrance of him.

More tomorrow, God willing.

My blessings on you!

Your

R. W.

285.

VENICE, February 23rd, 1859.

DEAR FRANZ,

To my hurried lines of yesterday I add a more comprehensive letter today. I have many things to tell you.

Lately I felt the urgent desire of sending you a word of comfort and sympathy. I thought that you were in need of such. For I had heard, to my horror, how great your annoyance must be, and B.'s account confirmed my impression that you were deeply annoyed and grieved by ingratitude, faithlessness, and even treachery. Suddenly, however, I felt quite stupid, and all I intended to say to you appeared to me trivial and superfluous. I could think of nothing better than to copy out for you a few fragments of my last work. They are not the really important things, for those can be understood only in their larger context, and I am all the more obliged to you for your kind reception of my good intentions, which count for little in art, but for a great deal in friendship.

I must almost thank you for the alarming New Year's greeting which you sent to me. I believe it has been beneficial to me; I am aware that I have too little control over myself, and rely upon the patience of others to an undue extent. An occasional lesson, therefore, does me good. Although I remain firmly convinced that you have misunderstood me in one essential point (as, indeed, well you might), I feel, nevertheless, that I must have cut a very ugly figure. That was proved to me by the effect I had upon you, for we know little of our appearance until we see ourselves in a looking-glass, and in your irritation I recognized my ugliness. These attacks of my violence ought surely to have calmed down by this time; indeed, I long for that unruffled calm which I esteem so highly and recognize to be the finest quality in man. It appears to me that I have arrived at the turning point of my life, and I deeply long for a state of quiescence. I am aware that that quiescence must, at last, come from the inner man, and our position towards the outer world must become one of apathy, if nothing from there contributes to the contentment of our mind. Let us see then.

I am intent at present upon gaining a clear and definite view of my fate. My mental disposition you know from my letter to M. As regards external matters, after mature consideration, I am taking every step to place my future relations with Germany on the necessary definite basis. I heard from Dresden that the king would on no account swerve from his decision to reserve the amnesty for those who had submitted to the investigation and judgment of the law-courts. I was advised to submit to that condition, but after mature consideration, and after weighing all the chances, I am firmly resolved never to fulfil that condition. In order to do all that was possible, I lately wrote to the Minister of Justice, asking him to discuss the matter with the King once more. This measure was suggested to me by my latest experience in this place. I ought to tell you and the Grand Duke for your satisfaction that, by desire of the Saxon Government, I was to be banished from here. I was advised to submit unconditionally, but to send a medical certificate to the Governor-General, praying that I might be allowed to stay for a few months longer for urgent reasons of health. For the moment this has answered, and I am allowed to stay. If I refuse to be examined or perhaps to be locked up a few months in Saxony, I base that refusal towards the Government entirely upon my state of health, which I need only exaggerate a little in order to show good and sufficient cause for my refusal. In other respects I submit most humbly to the decree pronounced against me, recognize my guilt and the justice of the proceedings without reserve--and only ask H.M. to remit the conditions of my amnesty by an exceptional act of grace on account of my health, which has become so weak that the doctor has strongly advised me not to undergo that strain. In that manner I think I have taken the only step which may lead me straight to the goal of certain knowledge as to my fate. If the King refuses to grant me this request it is clear that I shall have to give up all hope from that quarter for ever. But even in that case I am resolved to make one more last trial. I shall apply direct to the Grand Duke of Baden, placing the case before him, and asking him for his permission to approach the Emperor of Austria, the Prince of Prussia, the Grand Duke of Weimar, the Duke of Coburg, and perhaps one other friendly Prince with the prayer to grant me an exceptional privilege of residence in their respective states, either by agreement amongst themselves, or by a decree of the National Diet. Avoiding anything of the nature of a complaint against the King of Saxony, I shall base this request solely upon the same circumstance, viz., the very serious state of my health and my nervous irritation, which do not permit me to undergo the risk of a criminal investigation at Dresden, although I fully recognize the justice of that investigation, and do not expect the King to alter his decree in my favour. I shall further ask the Princes in question to suspend the treaty of extradition in my favour after due consultation with the Saxon Government, the object being to secure my personal efforts for the advancement of German art. It will depend upon the consent of the Grand Duke of Baden whether I take further steps in that direction. I do not venture to say that I expect a successful issue, but one thing I shall gain in any case, and that the most necessary of all, viz., certainty as to my position. I must no longer delay gaining that certainty, because my whole future life depends upon it. Before telling you what further steps I have in view in order to gain certainty in another direction also, I must answer your question as to Carlsruhe,

Devrient wrote to me that in case "Tristan" were finished by that time, September 6th, being the birthday of the Grand Duke, would be the best day for the performance; and he added that the Grand Duke counted with certainty upon my personal attendance. As to this last point, which of course I had made the chief condition from the first, I have recently received further information. The Grand Duke intends to invite me for the time in question to Carlsruhe on his own responsibility. Nothing is to be known beforehand, and my presence is to be simply an accomplished fact, for which the Grand Duke takes the personal responsibility. This seems a princely way of doing things, and the young sovereign inspires me with confidence. But I must assist him by denying any intention of a journey to Carlsruhe altogether. You will therefore oblige me, dearest Franz, by ostensibly assisting me in this matter. You might cause some paragraphs to be inserted in the newspapers, contradicting that rumour which, unfortunately, has been spread about a good deal, and stating that nothing was settled, and that my personal attendance at Carlsruhe was quite out of the question, as, as yet, there was not the slightest chance of my amnesty.

Concerning your own recent steps in my favour, I must charge you in all friendliness with having acted too delicately towards me by not letting me know the motives of the refusal you have met with. Even now you do not state those motives plainly, for the reason apparently that you fear to wound me unnecessarily by their communication. On the other hand, I ask you to consider that it would be better if I saw quite clearly in this matter. This would finally and for ever free me from all the illusions into which my strong desire tempts me while things are in this uncertain state, and an unpleasant feature of our mutual relations would disappear altogether.

All my transactions with the Hartels as to the edition of the scores, etc., of the "Nibelungen" to be prepared at once, have again been abandoned recently. The only thing they were willing to grant was the immediate commencement of the engraving (provided always that a performance was guaranteed), without payment of an honorarium, and with the undertaking only on their part to share the profits of the edition with me. How loath I am to agree to this latter proposal I need not explain. The profits to be derived from such a work increase as the years go on, and will probably become lucrative only after my death. In any case, those profits would accrue to me at a time of life to provide for which at present would be folly, considering how urgently I require immediate assistance and freedom from care. Heirs I have none.

Your advice to settle in Paris in case Germany remains closed to me quite coincides with my own plans. The dear Child has communicated to you what my immediate views of life are. I cannot bear this state of inactivity any longer; my health is ruined for want of life and action. Paris is the place, appointed to me by fate. I quite agree with you in thinking that I shall get accustomed to living there as time goes on. Apart from any plans, I shall there have at least the occasional use of a fine orchestra which I have missed for so long. Without considering for the present any possible performances at French theatres, I should there also have the best chance of witnessing a performance of my own works. A well-managed scheme of German opera would be all that would be required. But it is impossible for me and my wife to lead, once more, a half-starving life in Paris. Some comfort and freedom of action must be secured to me, otherwise I cannot think of it. I shall probably leave my furniture, etc., at Zurich. The pretty little house will be kept for me, and I hope to inhabit it again later on in the summer, which would be an agreeable change.

The hope you give me of receiving frequent visits from you in Paris is the real bright point in the picture of the future.

Believe me, dear Franz, when I consider the advantages which my desired amnesty would offer to me, there is only one which appears to me worth a real sacrifice, I mean that of being together with you more frequently and for longer periods. What else is there that could very strongly and decisively attract me? Performances of my operas I should, in most instances, carefully avoid, although I might in rare and particular cases take part in first performances of my works, which would of course be very desirable. The question, whether in that case encouragement and new strength, or grief, annoyance, and overexcitement would be the lasting effect upon me, I fear I must decide in favour of the latter alternative, and no external success, no applause, could make up for this. If I was sensitive before, I am so now to the verge of excessive irritation, and I dread every contact with theatrical matters, singers, conductors, etc., to such a degree that I feel almost inclined to bless the fate which keeps me apart from them. But we, we two, want to cultivate our friendship by personal intercourse; we are to each other the only enjoyment which the world can offer us. Only think how painfully we have always been kept separated, during how few weeks of the long and beautiful years of our friendship we have looked into each other's eyes. This fountain of generation of inner strength and fire is fully appreciated by me, and I feel it to be the direst deprivation that I can approach it so rarely. If you promise me this boon for Paris, you may look upon my determination to go there as certain and immutable.

Let me have a full account of yourself, dear friend; of all your troubles I hear from others, sometimes even through the newspapers. That is not right; neither should you be too brief in your statements; it looks like want of confidence. I want to gain a closer view so as to know how to stretch out my hand, which would comfort you with a friendly touch. It is natural that you are too great, too noble, too beautiful, for our dear, gossipy Germany, and that you appear to the people like a god, whose splendour they are not accustomed and not inclined to bear. It was left to you to illustrate this phenomenon, for so bright, so warm a being as yourself had never before appeared in Germany. But I should like to know to what degree this miserable conduct touches your heart, annoys you, embitters you. I have grown so indifferent to similar impressions, that I often find it very difficult to discover the exact point where the impression is made.

If, on the other hand, I consider what happiness is in your possession, what crowns of life and of eternity are on your forehead, if I think of your sympathetic and nobly refined home, free as it is from the serious cares of common life, if I finally observe how your personality and your ever-ready art enchant and delight all around you, I find it difficult to understand what your sufferings really are. And yet you suffer, and suffer deeply; that I feel. Sink your pride for once, and write to me as plainly and as comprehensively as I too frequently do to you, much to your annoyance. I must conclude, in order not to begin the fourth sheet, and will only tell you in the margin that I thank you cordially for your love, and shall always remain faithfully and lovingly

Your friend,

RICHARD W.

286.

MILAN, March 25th, 1859.

MY FRANZ,

I am once more on my travels without having told you anything about them; tired out as I am by the Brera, the "Cena", the Cathedral, etc., I do not want to go to bed before sending you two words of news.

In order not to interrupt the composition of my third act, I came to the conclusion that I ought to begin it in a place where I might finish it. I have selected Lucerne for the purpose; you know how dearly I love the Lake of Lucerne; the Righi, Pilatus, etc., are indispensable remedies to me and my blood. I shall live there in solitude, and at this time of the year shall easily find a most desirable lodging. There I mean to work splendidly. My Erard has already preceded me.

My health gives me still much trouble, otherwise I am fairly well off, but with your friendly cousin in Vienna, who thinks so little of your advantage, I have still a bone to pick. About that next time. I should, no doubt, have had news from you if, in my last letter, I had not again given you such a dose of gravy. I should have been only too happy to receive a sign of life from you, even if that matter had not been mentioned with a word. I hoped for it from day to day, and in that idle hope neglected advising you of my intended change of abode.

As soon as I am settled again I shall write better and more, without waiting for you to ask me. For today these preliminary lines must suffice. A thousand cordial greetings.

Your

R. W.

LUCERNE, poste restante.

287.