Best of friends,
Cordial thanks for your letter, which was a sure sign of your continued interest in me. Your domestic troubles have alarmed me very much; be assured of my genuine sympathy with any grief that may befall you. I hope this letter will find you in an easier state of mind with regard to the health of your very dear friend. If only my wish could contribute to this!
But necessity compels me to gain some certainty as to my own position through your means. Listen, and do not be angry. The communication of your plans in my favour last summer roused in me a hope as to which I must now know whether I am to look for its fulfilment or to abandon it altogether. You told me that in case of the desired success of my Lohengrin you intended to make use of the presumably friendly disposition of the Grand Duchess, with a view to inducing her to allow me the necessary means of subsistence during the composition of my Siegfried.
Just at that time I had given up all thoughts of setting the opera to music, and had sent the poem of Siegfried to the printer in order to place it before the public in the form of an intention never carried out. Your communication changed my mind, as I acknowledged to you at the time in the most joyous and grateful manner. I cancelled the order for printing the poem, and prepared myself for the composition instead. For the commencement of the work I fixed upon the coming spring, partly in order, first, to get rid of my always depressed winter humour, and partly to give you time for carrying out your kind intention without hurry. For the winter I chose a literary work, for which I had plenty of material, and which I took in hand at once, hoping that I might make something by it. This work, a book of four hundred to five hundred pages, small octavo, entitled Oper und Drama, has been ready these six weeks; but as yet none of the publishers to whom I wrote about it has replied, and my expectations at least of gain from this work are therefore very small.
During the whole of six months, after spending the honorarium for the production of Lohengrin at Weimar, I have lived entirely by the assistance of Frau R. in D., because latterly I have not been able to earn anything beyond a small fee for conducting two of Beethoven's symphonies at the miserable concerts here. I know that my Dresden friend has for the present exhausted herself, because the family is not wealthy, but has only just a sufficient income, which, moreover, owing to some awkward complications with Russia, is at present placed in jeopardy. I am therefore compelled to try and make money at any price, and should have to abandon a task like the composition of Siegfried, which in a pecuniary sense is useless.
If I were to have any inclination for a task undertaken for the sake of money, it would have to be so-called aesthetic literature, and in order to get money for such literature I should have to spend all my time in writing for magazines at so much per sheet. The thought is very humiliating. If I am to undertake an important artistic task, my immediate future, say for the current year at least, must be secured; otherwise I shall lack the necessary cheerfulness and collectedness. If I am to have peace of mind for devoting myself to artistic labour without interruption, I must, as I said before, be without anxiety for my immediate subsistence. Necessity, as the proverb says, breaks iron, and therefore I put this question to you once more simply, so as to be sure as to my position.
I am aware that everything has turned out unfavourably for your plan of helping me. The Grand Duchess was ill, and could attend only the third performance of Lohengrin; soon afterwards you left Weimar, and therefore had no opportunity of preparing the Grand Duchess for your plan in a proper and dignified manner. All this I know, and therefore no blame attaches to you in the remotest degree. Only I must know now where I am. For that reason I pray you with all my heart to tell me plainly and definitely whether, as things are, I still may hope for something or not, so that I may make all my arrangements accordingly; uncertainty is the worst of tortures.
One request I further make without hesitation. If you are compelled by the state of affairs to tell me that your plan cannot now be realized, and that therefore I must not hope for any further assistance in favour of the composition of my Siegfried, then kindly see at least whether you cannot get me at once some money, were it only as much as my immediate difficulty requires, in order to gain me some time for settling to my altered plan. It is very sad that I have to trouble you with this ugly request. But enough of this. May Heaven grant that you will soon be relieved from your domestic troubles. I wish the Princess a quick and perfect recovery with all my heart.
Richard Wagner
Source: Project Gutenberg eBook #3835, Correspondence of Wagner and Liszt — Volume 1, No. 57