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 Wagner
Source: Project Gutenberg eBook #4234, Correspondence of Wagner and Liszt — Volume 2, No. 285