Correspondence of Wagner and Liszt, Volume 2

F >> Francis Hueffer (translator) >> Correspondence of Wagner and Liszt, Volume 2

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And now, dear friend, I must tell you that I am very satisfied
with myself. This curious and unexpected fact is particularly
useful to me for my stay in Paris. Formerly Paris used to fill me
with fears of boding evil; in one sense it excited my desire,
while on the other it repelled me terribly, so that I continually
felt the sufferings of Tantalus. At present only the repulsive
quality remains, while every charm has lost its power. The nature
of that repulsiveness I now fully understand, and it appears to
me as if my eyes had always possessed an unconscious faculty
which has at last become conscious to me. On a journey, in
carriages, etc., my gaze always tried involuntarily to read in
the eyes of fellow-travellers whether they were capable of, or
destined for salvation, that is, negation of the world. A closer
acquaintance with them often deceived me as to this point; my
involuntary wish frequently transferred my divine ideal to the
soul of another person, and the further course of our acquaintance
generally led to an increase of painful disappointment, until,
at last, I abandoned and violently cut short that acquaintance.

FIRST sight is less fallible, and as long as my intercourse with
the world is of a passing kind, my feeling with regard to it is
free from any doubt, resembling, as it does, that perfect
consciousness which comes to us on better acquaintance with
people, after we have thrown off prolonged and laboriously
sustained illusions. Even the passing sight of individuals, in
whose features I see nothing but the most terrible error of
life,--a restless, either active or passive, desire,--affects me
painfully; how much more then must I be terrified and repelled by
a mass of people whose reason for existence appears to be the
most shallow volition. These finely and very clearly cut
physiognomies of the French, with their strong feeling for
charming and sensuously attractive things, show me the qualities
which I see in other nations in a washed-out, undeveloped state,
with such precision as to make illusion even for a moment
impossible. I feel more distinctly than elsewhere in the world
that these things are quite strange to me, just because they are
so precise, so charming, so refined, so infallible in form and
expres-* sion. Let me confess to you that I have scarcely been
able to look at the marvellous new buildings erected here; all
this is so strange to me that, although I may gaze at it, it
leaves noimpression on the mind. As no delusive hope, that might
be excited here, has the slightest attraction for me, I gain by
my absolutely unimpassioned position towards these surroundings a
calmness which--let me say it with a certain ironic humour--will
probably be of advantage to me in gaining that for which I strove
here in my early days, and which now, as it has become
indifferent to me, I shall probably attain.

What this possible "attainment" may be I can only briefly
indicate to you. The object of my journey has been the securing
of the rights of property in my operas, and beyond this I can
look for nothing except what is freely offered to me, and the
only person who seems inclined to make a definite offer is the
manager of the "Theatre Lyrique." I saw his theatre; it pleased
me fairly well, and a new acquisition he had made, a tenor,
pleased me very much. In case he is prepared for more than
ordinary efforts, as to which of course I must have every
security, I might give him "Rienzi," provided that I succeeded
(perhaps through intercession of the Grand Duke of Baden with the
Emperor of the French) in obtaining the exceptional privilege of
having my opera performed at this theatre WITHOUT SPOKEN
DIALOGUE.

"Ollivier," whom I did not meet till yesterday, and with whom I
am going to dine en garcon today, received me with such amiable
kindness that I imagined I had arrived at "Altenburg." He made me
an unlimited offer of his services with the manager of the
Theatre Lyrique, a personal friend of his, amongst other people.
Well, we must see what will come of it; in any case, I should
surrender, without much scruple of conscience, "Rienzi," to gain
me an entry, but of course only on the supposition that
considerable pecuniary advantages would accrue to me.

I had got so far when Berlioz called on me. After that I had to
go out, and found soon that I was not well, the cause probably
being a cold, which pulls me down more than usually, because as I
remember only now, my food has lately been very bad, I being
feeble and very thin in consequence. I had to make my excuses to
Ollivier and stop at home in bed. In consequence of this prudent
measure I feel a little better, and am expecting Ollivier, who
will call for me at two to take me to the concert of the
Coservatroire; so I will go on talking to you a little about
practical things.

It was a real shame that I was once more compelled to take money
from you, but this time it is quite certain to be a loan, which I
shall repay to you in any circumstances. From the letter of the
Princess, I see that you have to use all manner of stealth to get
"Rienzi" accepted at the Weimar theatre. This grieves me very
much, and I am afraid that a serious conflict between myself and
the management will be the result. If this should be the case,
the repayment of the thousand francs would become more difficult,
but by no means impossible, and in any case I count upon
returning the money to you by "Easter." As to the employment of
what you sent to me, and for which also I thank you cordially,
you must please set the mind of the good Princess at rest. I am
sorry that this also should trouble her.

Apart from you and Calderon, a glance at the first act of
"Tristan," which I have brought with me, has roused me
wonderfully. It is a remarkable piece of music. I feel a strong
desire to communicate some of it to some one, and I fear I shall
be tempted to play some of it to Berlioz one of these days,
although my beautiful performance will probably terrify and
disgust him. Could I only be with you! That, you know, is the
burden of my song.

Something more about business. The Hartels have replied to my
offer of "Tristan." It was quite amusing. Whatever I may do, the
Philistine will think more or less impossible; to that I am
accustomed, and must comfort myself with the success achieved so
far by my impossible creations. To sum up, the Hartels accept, in
spite of their great doubts, the publication of the work, with a
reduction, however, of my demands. Even so they think they are
offering a great sacrifice to me, but they say that they are
prepared to have the full score engraved at once, and I think
that I cannot do better than accept their offer.

I am always loth to write to you about business, and have done so
only when I expected you to help me, which unfortunately was the
case often enough. This time, however, I want to give you a short
synopsis of the state of my Paris expedition. At the beginning of
the winter a M. Leopold Amat, Chef or Directeur des Fetes
Musicales de Wiesbaden, wrote to me from Paris, and set forth the
results of his voluntary exertions for "Tannhauser" (at Wiesbaden
with Tichatschek and in the French press). He asked me to
authorise him to take the necessary steps for the performance of
"Tannhauser" at the Grand Opera. I informed him that my only and
indispensable CONDITION would be that an exact translation of the
opera, without omission or alteration, should be given. Soon
afterwards a M. de Charnal, a young litterateur without
reputation, applied to me, asking me for permission to publish a
good translation in verse of the poem of "Tannhauser," in one of
the first Revues de Paris. That permission I granted him, on
condition that the publication in the review should not imply any
further copyright. I am now expecting the pianoforte arrangements
of my operas, in order to secure my rights, which will be of
importance, whether I want my operas to be performed or whether I
want to prevent their performance. The management of the Grand
Opera has made no move, but M. Carvalho, of the Theatre Lyrique,
seems to be lying in wait for me. In case I should do anything
with him, I am determined, as I said before, to leave "Rienzi" to
his tender mercies, first because that work causes no anxiety to
my heart, and may be transmogrified a little for all I care;
second, because the subject and the music are certainly less
strange to the Paris public than are my other works. What do you
think of it? To me the whole thing would be purely an affair
d'argent, and as such it would no doubt turn out well.

Here you have plenty of business, but I must add one thing more.
I have lately laid your poor Vienna cousin under contribution. As
my manager at Vienna sent me no money, I asked Haslinger, on the
strength of your friendship, to enforce my demands, and as he
(being prevented by illness, as I afterwards heard) did not
reply, I hunted up the address of your cousin (from 1856), and
again invoking your sacred name, asked him to prod on Haslinger.
That had the desired effect, and to both I owe it that my manager
will probably discharge his debt before long. You see, it is
always "Franz Liszt," even if he knows nothing about it.

Here you have a very long letter from me. Next time the good
Child shall have one equally long; I am deeply in her debt. The
practical Princess also shall have a regular professor's letter
from me. For today I send a thousand thanks and greetings to you
all from the bottom of my heart. Be assured of my most faithful
veneration.

Long live Altenburg!

Farewell, you dear unique one.

Your

R. W.

HOTEL DU LOUVRE, No. 364.

256.

January 30th, 1858.

You have struck up a regular friendship with Calderon in Paris,
dearest Richard; a la bonne heure, he is one of the right sort in
whose society one may forget many blackguards and blackguardisms.
Unfortunately I know him only very superficially, and have not
yet succeeded in making him part of myself. Grillparzer used to
tell me wonderful things about him, and if you remain much longer
in this element I shall have to read some of his things after
you. Let me know on occasion which are the pieces I ought to
begin with. His two chief elements, CATHOLICISM and HONOUR, are
both dear to my heart. Do you think something musical might be
made of this? I once read the translation by Cardinal Diepenbrock
of a wonderful sacred drama, in which heaven, and air, and earth,
with all their powers, are set in motion. I forget the title at
this moment, but shall find out.

Perhaps you may tell me, some day, how to mould and handle this
subject-matter for musical purposes.

I shall have to postpone "Rienzi" till May. We shall invite
Tichatschek for it. All that IS POSSIBLE will be done, but I am
annoyed that the result will again be very small. Fischer of
Dresden writes me a very sad letter about the frustration of his
hope of producing "Reinzi" there in the course of the winter. He
and Tichatschek and many others are cordially devoted to you, and
we shall certainly not fail to do our duty as far as in us lies.

"Lohengrin" will be given here very shortly; I have already had a
few rehearsals, because Ortrud, the Herald, and the King will be
in new hands. I cannot tell you how deeply the work moves me
every time. The last time we performed it I felt proud of my
century, because it possessed such a man as you show yourself to
be in this work. With "Lohengrin," the old opera world comes to a
close; the spirit moves upon the face of the waters, and there is
light.

As to your chances in Paris I have not much to say. It is true
that "Rienzi" is amongst your works the most congenial to the
Parisians. But whether they will take you up in earnest, and
whether in that case you will be able to count upon the sympathy
of the manager, the artists, and the press, appears very
questionable to me. Nevertheless you have done well to go to
Paris yourself. Go on reading Calderon industriously; it will
help you to bear the state of things there, which are in glaring
contradiction with your genius and your nature.

Keep me au courant of your Paris adventures, and if I can be of
any service to you, I need hardly say that you may freely dispose
of

Your faithful

FRANCISCUS.

257. DEAREST FRANZ,

People take care to give me plenty of diversion. From the
enclosed letter, which please seal before you forward it to the
person in question, you will see that in addition to other
troubles I have been robbed. The thief is near you at Jena, where
he has had to go for a short time on military duty. You will, I
hope, find no difficulty in finding a person attached or semi-
attached to the police, who could deal with E. W., late waiter at
the hotel here, in the manner indicated by the letter. I think it
will be best to frighten the fellow into restoring the money. If
we were simply to put him in prison he would deny the charge in
order to save himself, and it is always difficult to prove a
money robbery in legal form.

Show me your practical wisdom as a police agent. But it must be
done very quickly, as the fellow will stay at Jena or Weimar for
a little time only. As I start the day after tomorrow, and shall
therefore not be in Paris when he comes back, it would be
difficult to lay hold of him here. So much for today. I hope I
shall find time to write you a rational letter from Paris. A
thousand thanks for your faithful love.

Your

R. W.

The money, if recovered, should be sent to Zurich.

258.

If it were given to me, dearest friend, to give you comfort and
strength, I should joyfully make any sacrifice. From Dresden
nothing much can be expected as yet, but I shall make another
attempt soon. At Carlsruhe they are well inclined towards you,
and the day before yesterday I had a long conversation about your
sad position with the Grand Duchess of Baden, who, like the Grand
Duke, seems to take a lively interest in you. Do not neglect your
"Tristan." For the first performance I should advise you to
choose either Carlsruhe or Prague. Weymar would of course follow
at once; for the moment, however, I think it more advisable that
another stage should take the initiative, and have spoken in that
sense to Thome in Prague. In any case I shall not fail to attend
the first performance, and you will oblige me by sending me the
score as soon as you have finished it. I intend to lay the work
before the Grand Duke, and to ask him earnestly that he may get
you from Dresden the permission of conducting the opera here. May
God grant that this step will, at last, lead to a favourable
result.

"Rienzi" cannot be given here this season. Frau von Milde is
expecting her confinement, and has not been singing these two
months, besides which, we are at present unable to fill some
other parts properly, and must wait till the end of the year,
when several new engagements come into force. I had, as you know,
proposed "Rienzi" as gala opera for February 16th; but a light
opera was preferred, and, as such, your tribune of the people
would scarcely pass.

You are probably in direct correspondence with Eckert concerning
the performance of "Lohengrin" at Vienna. He informed me that the
work would be given this autumn. The principal parts will be
splendidly cast: Ander (Lohengrin), Meyer (Elsa), and Csillagh
(Ortrud), and if Eckert throws his heart into the thing, a great
success is beyond all doubt.

Of my performances at Prague, Vienna, and Pesth, you have
probably heard from others. Although I have no reason to
complain, I am very glad that they are over, and that I may stop
at home again; for I must candidly confess that the wear and tear
connected with similar occasions is very unpleasant to me, and
becomes almost unbearable if it lasts more than a few weeks.

Do not desert "Tristan"; he is to lead you back soon, and
VICTORIOUSLY, to Siegfried.

Your

FRANZ

May 7th, 1858.

259.

I send you today a WONDERFUL FELLOW, dearest Richard; receive him
kindly.

Tausig is to work your Erard thoroughly, and to play all manner
of things to you. Introduce him to our mutual friends at Zurich--
Herwegh, Wille, Semper, Moleschott, Kochly--and take good care of
him.

Your

F. LISZT.

WEYMAR, May 18th, 1858.

260.

ZURICH, July 2nd, 1858.

At last, dearest Franz, I have once more got so far as to be able
to carry out my long-delayed intention of writing to you.

I have to thank you very much for your last letter, to which I
thought, upon the whole, silence was the best answer. I hope you
understood me rightly. I am generally too talkative, and chat
about many things which it would be better to keep to myself.
This would be more advantageous to others also, for he who
refuses to understand a silent friend will find a talking one
troublesome.

Cordial thanks also to the good Princess for her letter.

Of "Tristan" I have sketched the second act; whether I have
succeeded I shall see when I come to work it out. It was amusing
to me to see you treat this peculiar affair as a matter of
literary business in your letter. I explained to the Princess
some time ago that the belief of the Prague manager, that I was
writing this opera for a first performance at his theatre, was a
pure misunderstanding. I could not help smiling at your believing
in the assertion of this odd man sufficiently to speak to me
seriously of the matter, and to offer me your amiable assistance.
You must, of course, have been puzzled at my having the score
engraved in this early stage of the proceedings. But there is a
very simple reason for it. I had, as you know, no money, and, as
"Rienzi" came to nothing, I saw no other way except "doing
business" with the Hartels. For that purpose I chose "Tristan",
then scarcely begun, because I had nothing else. They offered to
pay me half the honorarium of 200 louis d'or, i.e., 100 louis
d'or on receipt of the score of the first act, so I hurried to
get it done head over heels. This was the reason of my business-
like haste in finishing this poor work. Altogether, the fate of
my works, including "Tristan", has become a matter of great
indifference to me; as to how, where, and when, I care little, as
long as I may be present.

The Grand Duke has probably given you my greetings, for which he
asked me in a very amiable manner. I did not think it proper to
charge him with such a message. H. R. H. wanted to know whether,
in case I were permitted to return to Germany, I should go to
Weimar, or whether I should prefer another "engagement," and I
explained to him that the only advantage I expected from my
amnesty was, to be able to visit Germany periodically, and that
for that purpose I had chosen your house, because it was your
house, as my pied-a-terre. That house, fortunately, being at
Weimar, the only danger would be that you might refuse to receive
me, and his wish of having me at Weimar would entirely depend
upon your friendship, which, therefore, he should try to
perpetuate. With that he was quite satisfied.

You have given me great pleasure with little Tausig. When he came
into my room, one fine morning, bringing your letter, I shook you
cordially by the hand. He is a terrible youth. I am astonished,
alternately, by his highly developed intellect and his wild ways.
He will become something extraordinary, if he becomes anything at
all. When I see him smoking frightfully strong cigars, and
drinking no end of tea, while as yet there is not the slightest
hope of a beard, I am frightened like the hen, when she sees the
young ducklings, whom she has hatched by mistake, take to the
water. What will become of him I cannot foresee, but whisky and
rum he will not get from me. I should, without hesitation, have
taken him into my house, if we had not mutually molested each
other by pianoforte playing. So I have found him a room in a
little hole close to me, where he is to sleep and work, doing his
other daily business at my house. He does, however, no credit to
my table, which, in spite of my grasswidowerhood, is fairly well
provided. He sits down to table every day stating that he has no
appetite at all, which pleases me all the less, because, the
reason is, the cheese and the sweets he has eaten. In this manner
he tortures me continually, and devours my biscuits, which my
wife doles out grudgingly even to me. He hates walking, and yet
declares that he would like to come with me when I propose to
leave him at home. After the first half hour he lags behind, as
if he had walked four hours. My childless marriage is thus
suddenly blessed with an interesting phenomenon, and I take in,
in rapid doses, the quintessence of paternal cares and troubles.
All this has done me a great deal of good; it was a splendid
diversion, for which, as I said before, I have to thank you. You
knew what I wanted. Of course the youth pleases me immensely in
other ways, and, although he acts like a naughty boy, he talks
like an old man of pronounced character. Whatever subject I may
broach with him, he is sure to follow me with clearness of mind
and remarkable receptivity. At the same time it touches and moves
me, when this boy shows such deep, tender feeling, such large
sympathy, that he captivates me irresistibly. As a musician he is
enormously gifted, and his furious pianoforte playing makes me
tremble. I must always think of you and of the strange influence
which you exercise over so many, and often considerably gifted,
young men. I cannot but call you happy, and genuinely admire your
harmonious being and existence.

My wife will return in a fortnight, after having finished her
cure, which will have lasted three months. My anxiety about her
was terrible, and for two months I had to expect the news of her
death from day to day. Her health was ruined, especially by the
immoderate use of opium, taken nominally as a remedy for
sleeplessness. Latterly the cure she uses has proved highly
beneficial; the great weakness and want of appetite have
disappeared, and the recovery of the chief functions (she used to
perspire continually), and a certain abatement of her incessant
excitement, have become noticeable. The great enlargement of her
heart will be bearable to her only if she keeps perfectly calm
and avoids all excitement to her dying day. A thing of this kind
can never be got rid of entirely. Thus I have to undertake new
duties, over which I must try to forget my own sufferings. Well,
and how about you? Will you come to my assistance again this
year? Your kind heart promises me to do so every year, but,
during the nine years of my exile, I have succeeded only twice in
tearing you away from your great dense world. Although you have
promised me your visit for this year, you will find it natural if
I am not too certain of seeing my wish fulfilled. I must add
several marks of interrogation and of prayer.

Cordial thanks to the dear, heavenly Child for her last letter; I
hope my silence was eloquent.

A thousand greetings and cordial responses to you three dear
ones! I also wish to be remembered to F. Muller, who sent me a
beautiful letter of congratulation on my birthday. I shall write
to him soon, without fail.

Farewell, dear Franz. You can imagine how often I am with you,
especially when Tausig is sitting at the piano. Between us, all
is one. Farewell, and continue to love me.

Your

R. W.

261.

DEAREST RICHARD,

When I saw the Grand Duke last night for the first time after his
return, he told me much about the visit you paid him at Lucerne.
I do not know what impression your acquaintance with him has left
on you, as we have had no news from you for such a long time, but
from what I have heard, and what has already happened, I conclude
with tolerable certainty that we shall see you here for the first
performance of "Tristan", AT THE LATEST. May God grant that it
will be sooner; and I need not tell you that nothing I can do
will be left undone.

Dingelstedt will shortly write to you about "Rienzi", which is to
be performed next season, in December or January. Last winter we
were unable to get on with the work for reasons which, as they
exist no longer, are not sufficiently important to be discussed.

Let me soon hear from you.

Your

F. L.

July 3rd, 1858.

I enclose a letter to Tausig, which you will be kind enough to
hand to him.

How is he getting on at Zurich, and what do you think of him?

262.

ZURICH, July 8th, 1858.

This affair of T. and X., dearest Franz, has become very
significant to me. It has shown me most clearly and definitely
that even amongst the best of friends a certain mode of action
may be perverted beyond recognition into its very opposite; and I
look with horror upon the cares of this world, where everything
is ruled by confusion and error to the verge of madness. It was
absolutely terrible to me to read your charges against T. What I
felt is difficult to describe; it was like a longing for death.
About this young T. I recently wrote to you in a very
unconventional manner. Two things make me overlook all his
shortcomings, and attach me to him to such a degree that I feel
inclined to place much confidence in him. One of them is his
boundless love for you, the absolute abandonment of his
impertinence as soon as you are mentioned, his most tender and
deep reverence for you; the other, the beautiful warmth and
genuine friendship which he shows at every moment for X. In the
present case also he defended the latter in a really touching
manner, and speaks of him always with enthusiastic praise of his
heart and his intellect. Were it not for these two traits I
should not know what to think of this young man, who speaks of
God and the world in the most ruthless manner. Curiously enough,
your reproach hit him in this particular point, and when he
showed me your letter there was a peculiar desperate question in
his glance. With such experiences the boy will become quickly,
almost too quickly, mature.

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