At last I sit down to write to you, dearest Franz. I have had a bad time, which now, it is true, appears to give place to a very pleasant state of things. Ten days ago we took possession of the little country house next to W.'s villa, which I owe to the great sympathy of that friendly family. At first I had to go through various troubles, for the furnishing of the little house, which has turned out very neat, and, according to my taste, took much time, and we had to move out before there was any possibility of moving in. In addition to this my wife was taken ill, and I had to keep her from all exertion, so that the whole trouble of moving fell upon me alone. For ten days we lived at the hotel, and at last we moved in here in very cold and terrible weather. Only the thought that the change would be definite was able to keep me in a good temper.
At last we have got through it all; everything is permanently housed and arranged according to wish and want; everything is in the place where it is to remain. My study has been arranged with the pedantry and elegant comfort known to you. My writing-table stands at the large window, with a splendid view of the lake and the Alps; rest and quiet surround me. A pretty and well-stocked garden offers little walks and resting-places to me, and will enable my wife to occupy herself pleasantly, and to keep herself free from troubling thoughts about me; in particular a large kitchen garden claims her tenderest care. You will see that a very pretty place for my retirement has been gained, and if I consider how long I have been wishing for this, and how difficult it was even to bring it into view, I feel compelled to look upon the excellent W. as one of my greatest benefactors. At the beginning of July the W.'s hope to move into their villa, and their neighbourhood promises many friendly and pleasant things to me. Well, so much has been achieved. Very soon I hope to resume my long-interrupted work, and I shall certainly not leave my charming refuge even for the shortest trip before Siegfried has settled everything with Brynhild. So far I have only finished the first act, but then it is quite ready, and has turned out stronger and more beautiful than anything. I am astonished myself at having achieved this, for at our last meeting I again appeared to myself a terribly blundering musician. Gradually, however, I gained self-confidence. With a local prima-donna, whom you heard in La Juive, I studied the great final scene of the Valkyrie. Kirchner accompanied; I hit the notes famously, and this scene, which gave you so much trouble, realised all my expectations. We performed it three times at my house, and now I am quite satisfied. The fact is, that everything in this scene is so subtle, so deep, so subdued, that the most intellectual, the most tender, the most perfect execution in every direction is necessary to make it understood; if this, however, is achieved, the impression is beyond a doubt. But of course a thing of this kind is always on the verge of being quite misunderstood, unless all concerned approach it in the most perfect, most elevated, most intelligent mood; merely to play it through as we tried, in a hurried way, is impossible. I, at least, lose on such occasions instinctively all power and intelligence; I become perfectly stupid. But now I am quite satisfied, and if you hear the melting and hammering songs of Siegfried you will have a new experience of me. The abominable part of it is that I cannot have a thing of this kind played for my own benefit. Even to our next meeting I attach no real hope; I always feel as if we were in a hurry, and that is most detrimental to me. I can be what I am only in a state of perfect concentration; all disturbance is my death.
I am deeply touched to hear that my letter has given you so much pleasure; I am sure you have taken the good will for the deed, for what I wrote cannot mean MUCH to the many, just because it was so difficult to write MUCH that might have been more useful and important to the multitude. A description of your single poems I had to refrain from altogether, for the reason which I candidly state in the letter itself. I cannot and will not attempt such insufficient things again. I had, therefore, to confine myself to showing to INTELLIGENT persons the road which I had discovered for myself. Those who cannot follow in this road and afterwards help themselves further along, I cannot help along either; that is my sincere opinion. Concerning the misprints, I shall send you one of these days a corrected copy, just for the sake of the joke. You will then understand that I might well be annoyed, but the fault seems to lie less with Brendel than with the copyist of my manuscript, who has performed his task in a very perfunctory manner. I do not speak of the intentional omissions, which were your doing, and to which you were fully entitled, but of simple abominations. However, that has been set right now, and will not happen again. Many thanks also for LOHENGRIN. It must remain a shadow to me, I really have forgotten it; I do not know it. You do all this amongst yourselves, and seem scarcely to think that I too might wish to be present. But I honour the mysterious silence which is so conscientiously preserved on the awkward question of my return by my high and highest patrons. Joking apart, the Emperor of Brazil has invited me to come to him at Rio Janeiro, where I am to have plenty of everything. Therefore if not at Weymar, then at Rio. Why do I hear so much about Frau X.? I did not specially recommend her for Ortrud. In my introduction I only spoke of an experienced singer of second parts, who, for want of a better, and, if she were taken in hand properly, might perhaps do for Ortrud. In saying this I specially had regard to her agreeable, although perhaps slightly enfeebled, voice, and her well-known industry. But that this unfortunate person should have been engaged specially for the part of Ortrud, which she had never studied, and that she should have been considered as my chosen representative of that part, was a little hard on her and on me. Please do not turn me into the "father" of this DEBUTANTE, whose interest I should have considered better if I had arranged her first appearance in some piece by Verdi or Donizetti, or indeed anything but LOHENGRIN. But enough of such stuff, although I am grieved to see Herr A., the tenor of the future (if well prepared), dwindle into thin air also. May heaven grant that Caspari will keep on, or that a decent tenor may come to you from some other place. Apropos, I must ask you to inform the Royal Capellmeister Fischer in Hanover, that he must make a copy of the DUTCHMAN score do for the present. The few autographed copies which were made at the time, not by myself, but by a copyist, have been reduced to so few that I cannot possibly spare another. The first twenty-five copies I scattered about recklessly, before any cock crowed for this opera, and the very few remaining ones are naturally of value to me. Excuse me, therefore, and refer him to the time when the sale of my works will have become so lucrative that the full scores can be engraved. I am, however, very grateful to him for his sympathy. Hanover has become a perfect repository of my scores. Many thanks also for your hints regarding the Hartel affair. Candidly speaking, the settlement of it is so important to me, that I immediately followed your advice, and wrote to the Hartels in such a manner that they will probably accept my offer, provided that they have been properly informed of the object by you. This, of course, I assume, and thank you cordially for it. Well, we shall see. I am being continually and painfully interrupted in these sufficiently frivolous lines by the invasions of workmen, especially of a Saxon locksmith. So I had better come to a close, although to my sorrow, for I regret our ill-sustained correspondence, in which at bottom we never express ourselves thoroughly, but, barring a few violent lucubrations, touch each other in a very superficial manner. I do not say anything today on the important point of your failing health. I wrote very seriously about it to the Princess some time ago, and am longing for a conclusive answer. I now hear through you that our magnanimous friend has herself been ill for a long time, and my fears are thus sadly confirmed. So I must ask you, after all, to let me know at least what steps you are going to take for the thorough recovery of your health. Have you really settled to persevere in the musical festival of Aix-la-Chapelle, or have you found a doctor with sufficient courage to prohibit your incessant efforts and sacrifices absolutely, and to withdraw you for a time from the world which spoils you more and more, in order to secure your perfect recovery? Really, dearest Franz, you will cause me the deepest anxiety unless you satisfy me on this point, and every rational person will see that this can be done only by a long and careful cure, together with absolute rest and abstention from every effort and excitement. To speak plainly, you dear people cannot long go on as you do now. Others would be ruined very soon by this kind of thing, which, at last, must become detrimental to you also. Listen, my Franz, come to me. No one shall know of your presence; we will live quite by ourselves, and you must submit to our taking the necessary care of your "cure." You will think this very stupid, and will perhaps scarcely believe that it is absolute despair which inspires this advice; but SOMETHING must be done, and if things appear black to me, the reality of the news which you send me surely does not justify a rosier view. For Heaven's sake, calm my fear, and believe me that no triumphs, not even those gained by yourself for yourself, will give me the least pleasure as long as I know how dearly you pay for them. Well, I must wait for your reply, but please let it not be a superficial, futile one. Heaven only knows what I have written here; it must be nice stuff. Finally, I want to thank you for the last three scores received by me; they came to me like old friends. I shall take them in hand thoroughly; they are to consecrate me a musician once more, and fit me for the beginning of my second act, which I shall precede by my study of them. As I said before, I do not thank you for the sacrifice you have made for me by your last beautiful performance of LOHENGRIN. If you had written to me instead, "I have put LOHENGRIN, you, myself, and everything else on the shelf, in order to get thoroughly well again," I should have thanked you with heartfelt tears. Let me soon know something of the kind, or else I shall never write to you again, and burn YOUNG SIEGFRIED with all his songs of the smithy.
Richard Wagner
Source: Project Gutenberg eBook #4234, Correspondence of Wagner and Liszt — Volume 2, No. 240