Best Kietz!
This time I have written in detail to Lehrs about general matters concerning me; I hadn't much else to tell. The Berlin question about the date of the first performance of The Flying Dutchman is still hanging fire. I was not in Berlin but in Leipzig and Halle only (where I saw my brother Albert), and on the 9th of this month I arrived in Teplitz. At the end of August or the first days of September, Rienzi is to be put on absolutely—Punktum! I haven't yet run into Mad. Devrient: your intimations about her in connection with your money affairs, your misgivings, etc., had induced me to consider her as the last source of help rather than the first, so I just approached Schletter, warmly and fully explained to him your position, and found a sympathetic listener in him. He felt touched by the matter, and it certainly was no empty excuse when he asked me for a short respite to consult himself and his condition. Schletter is not the millionaire people consider him, and his inclination to be a benefactor is handicapped by the fact that people are overwhelming him with money demands from all sides and expect sacrifices far beyond his means.
This is true: every day he gets an average of two to five letters claiming his help, so that he had to stick to the principle of making small loans or donations only in order to satisfy several people. . . .
July 1st. I have been looking forward in painful expectation to a letter from Schletter only to learn that my steps were futile for the time being. In vain I waited for ten days after having started this letter to get news from Schletter, and pained at not being able to write you I wrote him again in Leipzig to remind him of his promise. At last I got a letter explaining at length and in a deferential tone that the demanded sum, even if considered as a loan, would be too large for him, that he couldn't withdraw it from those who are really in need, etc. I was really not prepared for it for these reasons: Schletter himself aroused the idea in my mind of approaching him when I met him repeatedly at Luise's in Leipzig. Then after the highest praise of your talent, your "genius," he declared that if he ever wanted to have himself or anybody else painted he would choose only you to do it. And so I approached him to describe your precarious position as an artist and to ask him for help. Even when he declared that he could grant only small money aids, I explicitly showed him that this was quite a different situation; for it was not a question of paying a needed sum from that part of his income which he had set aside for the support of poor people, but he was to grant you an advance of money as a part of the sizable sum he spends yearly procuring works of art. He doubtless would have a fund for this purpose and would help an artist of whom he himself thought highly, and who according to his own utterances would certainly be given sizable orders. Punctual repayment, even if he demanded it in ready cash, would be sure for him since it was not unknown to him how easily you had saved bigger sums in Germany before this. This is how I had to deal with him in order not to give you away, and I based my hopes on this kind of presentation. But unfortunately I had to learn that I was dealing with a businessman who is used to considering as lost all sums spent this way, and not to counting on their repayment, and in this sense I may imagine that the demanded sum (1,000 fr.) was too big for him. To hell with him! Let's not talk of it any more! Every word is too much! The only reassurance I can give you is that nobody in Leipzig knows of it. Schletter won't speak of it either— (At last I have new ink.)
And now further: The trouble is that here I am sitting in Teplitz where I can't do a single thing about your affair. Minna still has to take the cure until the end of this month, and I can't return to Dresden earlier than this for the simple reason that I can't pay two lodgings. I won't arouse new hopes in you again after this silly experience by which my firm confidence has been abominably deceived. I can only give you my most holy promise to proceed with all possible care and policy when I see Mad. Devrient after my return to Dresden, so as to get a better result from her than from that lousy businessman. If I fail with her too, I can only feed you with hopes for myself, that is, for a good success for Rienzi—you understand me! . . .
Alas, there is nothing left for me to do at this moment but cry out to you: "Try to get back!" I am barred from doing anything now! You may believe that I am depressed about it! Well, if you were a different fellow you would spare me much worry. May God bestow his blessing on Laforgue! I can't tell you more. As soon as I am in Saxony I'll act on it again. You may have learned from my last letters to my sister and to Lehrs how I am. Since then, of course, nothing important has happened: I still feel terribly burdened by my obligations in Paris. Here, where I would feel in the best mood to tackle a new work, I have to repress everything within myself—in order to arrange music. Of course it won't remain like this. So last week I sent finished arrangements directly to Schlesinger in Paris. Tomorrow I am going to start work for Troupenas; when you find it necessary, call on Heinse again and tell him that he will shortly get an arrangement from me. I enclose a few lines for the good Loizeau; it's quite out of the question for me to pay the draft due at the end of this month. I already prepared Loizeau for this eventuality while I was in Paris, and so he made the following arrangement with me. I signed two notes, each for 200 fr., one payable on the last of July, the other at the end of September. In order to negotiate these notes easily I had to give my Paris address, and I chose No. 69 rue Richelieu, chez M. Avenarius. If I should be unable to pay the note when it falls due in July, Loizeau himself would discharge it and I would repay him the amount of both at the end of September. Of course this has been done only to facilitate the purchase of his own materials by Loizeau. I'm carefully reporting this to you so that you may read this passage to our friend Avenarius and he may understand when he is presented with a note in my name at the end of July that all he will have to do is to say I am not there and didn't leave any instructions; then the note will go back to Loizeau and he will pay it as arranged between us. I really don't know whether or not I communicated this matter to Avenarius, and I wouldn't like him to be surprised by not being prepared. A splendid business!
Be good enough to go to Draese, No. 4 rue d'Assas. They behaved so kindly toward me recently that I'd hate leaving them without any comfort, at least for the time being. Tell them how I am and that I haven't been able to earn more so far than barely enough to live on, but I hope to earn more in the autumn and they may rely then on my not forgetting them. Tell them everything you know and give them my regards. They are poor after all! . . .
Don't take it amiss that my wife doesn't write to you; but she is really writing along with me each line of this letter. With her heart she is quick, but with her pen a bit slow. Besides, she has to abide her time too. Goodbye, you old Hans. God grant that better times may come! We both will need it. Be sure to write soon to reassure me about yourself, although your letters really can't reassure very much! At the end of July I'll go to Dresden again; so write here meanwhile. Greet everybody ten thousand times and remain faithful to me.
Your
Richard W.
Source: Letters of Richard Wagner: The Burrell Collection, ed. John N. Burk (Macmillan, 1950), No. 42