Thursday, November 14:
Better weather, further purchases. Table d’hôte lunch in the Schwan, unpleasant sensations. Exorbitant hotel bill. We knew the Schwan formerly as a very pleasant hotel and now find it turned into a luxury hotel of the most unpleasant sort.
Departed at 4 o’clock, in a compartment with Prince Alexander of Hessen. At 6 o’clock in Darmstadt, straight to the theater. Auber’s Le Maçon. This pretty opera is completely ruined, and once again by the time-beater and the producer. The voices are for the most part good, and something could be done with them. But R. has to weep, there in the theater, over the decline in standards. He says he remembers how prettily these things used to be done in Würzburg when he was young, and now this crudeness everywhere!
Returning to the Traube we notice the curious chimes, which play a hymn. Silence and snow; melancholy.
While still in Frankfurt we had news of the children, that they are well, and a telegram from Mme Lucca, that a great vittoria had been achieved in Bologna with Tannhäuser. At the same time an anonymous Italian letter, at least the name was illegible, full of abuse!