My dearest friend,
I turn to you today with a heavy heart but a firm resolve - once more to ask your help in word and deed. After a long period of tormentingly sultry heat, the storm which finally broke was of such violence and force that all who were close to its centre must have been affected by it, each according to his character and essential disposition. I hope - and it would reassure me to receive confirmation of the fact as soon as possible - that you and your family escaped unharmed from the catastrophe in Dresden. It has affected me deeply in many respects, as chance and sympathy willed it. As long as I was able to follow the Dresden uprising from close quarters, I was in total sympathy with it right from the outset, a sympathy which I expressed quite openly not in deeds, it is true, but in my attitude towards certain individuals - though never (in public speeches, for example) towards the masses. I observed nothing to confirm tales of the Red Republic, but what I saw clear-sightedly and with open eyes, under the banner of the “German constitution” (and I’ll be the first to admit that the masses didn’t line up to be shot for that!), was the entirely natural indignation of the burghers and common people towards a prince who called in foreign troops to coerce public opinion, not to mention the local patriotic anger at seeing “Prussia” of all countries - to whom Saxony has already lost so much - occupying what was left of the region. No sensible person will believe that the revolution was deliberately planned, if it had been, the most important positions around the square would not have been abandoned to the military at the outset. Storming the arsenal was the impetuous act of an unarmed people who believed themselves betrayed when the parade of the city militia was prevented from taking place. With what unbearable tension I followed at close quarters every public act, most notably the setting up of the committee of public safety at the town hall; after the hideous incidents which had earlier taken place, I hoped that these acts would provide a suitable focus for the movement, in the sense that concerted action on the part of the collective authorities and the common people would not only make further bloodshed impossible, but might finally lead to a timely surrender on the part of the King. This was the aim which lay behind my desultory attempts on the second day, after the town had been barricaded off, to do what it was in my power as an individual to do - without placing myself in the public gaze - in order to prevent further conflict between the people and the military. I met a couple of soldiers who were barracked at the arsenal and suggested to them that - in the event of a renewed confrontation with the people - all they had to do was explain to the latter that they would both be on the same side if it were a question of facing foreign troops; I said much the same sort of thing to various individuals whom I met as I was walking past the barricades and I warned them not to provoke the military but rather to ask them the simple question whether they would side with them against foreign troops. This question was even written on a piece of paper and pinned to the barricades, since it seemed to me to be of paramount importance to effect some sort of alliance between the troops and the people, whether by this means or any other, not only so that we could offer proper resistance to the Prussian invasion when it came, but, more particularly, so as to prevent the local movement from straying beyond its original course. A genuine alliance between the Saxon troops and the people of Saxony could in any case only have come into being for the sole purpose of ensuring common resistance to the Prussian invasion and support for the German constitution. If the military and the people had made combined representations to this effect to the King of Saxony, they would inevitably have achieved the desired aim of freeing the latter from stifling Prussian influence, and in this way the whole movement would have been prevented by the most energetic measures from being side-tracked into other areas. I explained to one of the town councillors whom I have known quite well for some time that it was my most earnest wish to see negotiations established with the military governor with a view to admitting a number of military members to the committee of public safety. The election of a provisional government did not at first alarm me, since Heubner and Todt offered guarantees not to allow the movement to stray from its true goal and to conduct negotiations with the King accordingly. I felt blissfully happy when I discovered that half the arsenal had been made over to the city militia, and I even hoped that the Prussian cabinet conspiracy would be disclaimed by Saxony - perhaps even without blood being spilt. The third day, however, was to see all my hopes dashed: the truce was announced, Prussian troops arrived, and in league with them our troops attacked the people. The resentment which this provoked knew no bounds and, little as I remained close to the centre of action from then on, I can nevertheless assure you quite truthfully that from that moment onwards it was neither the Red nor the Blue Republic, neither Poles nor Russians that provided a spur to the most embittered and ruthless resistance on the part of those fighting on the barricades, but an entirely subjective and personal rage on the part of the burghers and common people directed against the military, a rage which was fed by a particular hatred of the riflemen who had arrived from Leipzig and who, as a body, were motivated by an old personal rancour towards the townspeople of Dresden to whom they had once had to give way in 1830 - a sense of rancour, finally, which had been nurtured by the riflemen’s commanding officers in a most unnatural way. As a calm observer of the fighting, I maintained throughout Saturday and Sunday the most objective outlook in the world - from the top of the Kreuzkirche tower, since I found it impossible to sit around at home - in spite of my wife’s entreaties. On Monday morning I once again went to the town hall in an attempt to discover what was going on, and there at least I found a great deal had altered: force of circumstances and the need to conduct the defence along strictly military lines had led to a search for strategists, since the commander of the city militia seemed to be lacking in insight and energy: a man from Poland who had studied tactics was recommended, and he was earnestly entreated to assume responsibility for preparing a military plan of defence. It is not true that Poland was involved from the outset. Irresolute and unsure of my present subjective outlook on the movement, I left the city at 8 o’clock on Monday morning and together with my wife, who had already packed, travelled to Chemnitz to stay with one of my married sisters there. On the way we met countless bands of reinforcements from the remotest corners of the land: their great sense of commitment, their courage and endurance which I encountered at every turn left an overwhelming impression on me: in answer to their enquiries I told them what I knew of the state of the fighting in Dresden, and this confirmation of the naked truth served to spur them on and hasten their march. Towards evening I met the whole of the Chemnitz communal guard in Oederan: they surrounded our carriage and demanded news from Dresden; on hearing what I had to report, some of them retorted that they had heard a different account, namely that Dresden had already surrendered to the Prussians. They forced me to accompany them to the town hall in order to verify my statement: it was there that I discovered I was dealing with people who had been coerced into marching to Dresden and who had eagerly seized on every scrap of false information as a pretext for returning at once to their own country. My news upset their plans, and they wanted to arrest me, since they suspected me of being a deserter. I managed to extricate myself from all this by promising to return to Dresden the following morning, after I had taken my wife to Chemnitz; they demanded my word of honour, and I considered it prudent not to deny it to them. What additionally persuaded me to return to Dresden was the concern I felt for a number of my relatives whom I had left behind there, together with the desire to find out exactly what was going on there. The mail-coach took me as far as the Feldschlösschen, and there I discovered that it was safe to go to the town hall but not to any other part of the town. Having reached the town hall, I had an opportunity to discover more details about how things stood: the timorous Todt and cowardly Tzschirner had fled, and Heubner, the man of the centre left, had remained in the square, showing dignity, endurance and presence of mind. An affecting incident gave me an opportunity to get to know Heubner somewhat better: a member of the communal guard who worked for the theatre turned to me with the request that I might intercede on behalf of the young Fürstenau who, having been suspected of firing on the people from his window, had been taken prisoner by them and placed under arrest. I immediately sought an audience with Heubner, and by dint of various reasons known to me attempted to convince him that the prisoner, in my own estimation, was innocent: Heubner set my mind at rest and assured me that the matter would be brought to a satisfactory conclusion. After an hour’s delay I sought an opportunity to return to Chemnitz, the more so since the road to my relatives was blocked: but how could I do so at night and given the impossibility of finding a carriage or mail-coach? An old university friend of mine, who is now adjutant with the city militia commando, received a commission to go as courier to Freiberg as quickly as possible and instruct the Chemnitz communal guard to set out without delay; for this purpose he was empowered to commandeer a mail-coach and horses, and I used the opportunity to get away from the city. The next day I used the mail-coach which was travelling empty from Freiberg to Tharand in order to return there once more and discover further details about the night’s events: I was half-way there when I was suddenly met by a perfectly ordered withdrawal of around 2000 volunteers from the barricades: I alighted, made my way over to Heubner’s carriage and discovered that it was their intention to turn Freiberg into the seat of the provisional government. Outside Freiberg Heubner was met by a delegate from the Chemnitz militia, inviting him to establish the seat of the provisional government in Chemnitz: assailed by wealthy Freibergers beseeching him not to ruin their town, Heubner gave in and ordered the volunteer corps to proceed to Chemnitz after a brief rest, while he himself - in order to get a few hours’ sleep - rode on ahead to Chemnitz, gave his name at the city gate - since it seemed, in part, unnecessary and, in part, underhand to deny who he was - and found a bed for himself and a few companions at the inn. The wealthy mill-owners of Chemnitz, meanwhile, thought it a good idea to have Heubner woken by the police, taken to Altenburg and handed over to the Prussian military authorities.
However brief the acquaintanceship I struck up with Heubner, I was attracted to him by the greatest sense of personal interest: he was the noblest, most resolute, most honourable - and most unfortunate hero of the revolution. I feel desperately sorry for him. Bakunin - a man of terrible energy - was thrust upon him by force of circumstances at a time when everything was falling apart around him: at moments when energy and energy alone was called for, he could not bring himself to reject him, although Bakunin’s goal lay far beyond his own. Had Heubner been a revolutionary pure and simple, bent on victory and victory alone - the only type of revolutionary who will be victorious in the future! - he would have paid no heed to the whimperings of the wealthy burghers of Freiberg or Chemnitz but simply have allowed the terrible wisdom of the revolution to take its course, - he would not have fallen and the affair would not have been lost. It was at this point that I realized that we are none of us revolutionaries, least of all myself: we want the revolution in order to be able to build something good on it without delay, - and this consideration causes us to misjudge it totally: the true, victorious revolutionary can desire only destruction, and his unique strength will be his hatred, not the love which guides us. -
I have prefaced my remarks with this detailed account of recent events in order to give you an accurate picture of my involvement in them. I was initially in total sympathy with the uprising, but what I felt on the middle two days was, rather, embitterment, and on the two final days the most intense excitability and curiosity. But at no point did I take an active part in the proceedings, either with weapons or with public oratory: at no point did I adopt an official stance towards the provisional government. But the extent to which the reactionary party will be capable of committing acts of baseness and villainy once it enjoys the protection of Prussian bayonets on Saxon soil is something I have no difficulty in guessing: not even in Chemnitz with my relatives did I feel safe, my encounter with the town’s militia was construed as an act of high treason by the more vocal section of the same. Reports received from my relatives in Leipzig force me to the conclusion that in Dresden, too, I am being slandered and denounced. If only for reasons of safety it is therefore impossible for me at the moment to contemplate a return to Dresden in the present circumstances, circumstances which I expect will prevail for some time. But there are other considerations, too, which now compel me to reach a definitive decision as regards my future life. You know how fraught with difficulties is the path I have embarked upon in my art: I would not mind the wounds I have suffered, but I cannot stand idly by while my entire artistic nature crumbles away. My abhorrence at my official position, the burden beneath which I have languished as a result, the futility of attempting any undertaking within the ambit of theatrical officialdom - all this reduced me long ago to a state of the most bitter resentment, a mood which could only increase in intensity as the years passed. The only thing that kept me alive - or at any rate the purpose of my existence - was my artistic creativity: but time and circumstances have conspired to disenchant me even with this: for two years now I have had a new opera completed: but from no quarter have I received any encouragement to have it staged; the result is that for two years I have been frittering away my artistic abilities without pleasure or satisfaction. And so I finally became a revolutionary - in thought, if not in deed - , and no longer find any pleasure in creative work. The recent catastrophe brought me to my senses again, to the extent that I became fully conscious of this sad and blighted state, and the only hope and the only desire that remained was simply to eke out my existence with my poor and sorely tried wife in quiet seclusion, away from the world, without doing anything, but at the same time without feeling guilty. - Having arrived in Weimar, I was immediately persuaded to adopt a different course by the friends whom my Tannhäuser has won for me here. Liszt, acting in concord with the Grand Duchess, immediately announced that I was to go to Paris and London: that was where I must work for the future and put my energies to good use in the present, too, not in Germany where I would be destroyed, at least as an artist - something I myself had proved by my recent past. The means to do this, and every other influential support have already been offered to me, so that I may pursue my goal there and, to judge by the prospects, it will not be long before I achieve it. Difficult though I find it to occupy myself with things that lie essentially outside Germany, I feel that my life must consist of only the most intense artistic activity: Germany, in its present appalling disorder, can offer the artist only a barren and inhospitable wasteland, and this state of affairs may well last for many years to come: it is a sad consolation, but a consolation none the less, that one may at least preserve our country’s art in the safety of a foreign land. There is also the question of my ruined finances, and here, too, I feel that only an energetic assessment of my talent can offer me the prospect of a better future. I am resolved, accordingly, to comply with the invitations and offers of my friends here: a few precautions are all that I need to take before I set off on my journey - in all probability I shall go first to London. And so the only question that remains to be answered concerns my continuing attitude towards Dresden. I would even now consider it necessary to make a complete break with Dresden if I could not assume that - however harshly I may perhaps stand accused at present - the matter was bound to be cleared up, since I am after all not guilty of any actual criminal offence; I have every confidence that, if it is thought necessary to treat me as a criminal, even according to the ideas of the party which has now emerged victorious, then half the inhabitants of Saxony would have to be brought to book with equal severity. And so I would ask you to attempt to find out indirectly, on the basis of the foregoing information, which I swear is a truthful account, whether there are sufficient grounds for instituting legal proceedings against me. You alone, my dear friend, are in a position to follow the correct procedure in these matters and take whatever steps are necessary to enable me to return to my own country, and perhaps even justify the retention of my appointment there. If everything were to go well and turn out in my favour, the phrasing of any agreement we reached would have to run somewhat along the lines that I was initially to be granted six months’ leave of absence in order to be able to go to London and Paris, both to superintend the production of my operas in the local theatres and also to obtain commissions to write a new opera for one of these two cities. My present intention is to have my latest opera Lohengrin translated into English and given its first performance in London. - Let us assume that the present storms will blow over and that it will not be long before I appear much less compromised politically than may now be the case, - why should one of Dresden’s artistic institutions remove me for ever from its midst when it might not be entirely to its discredit to have one of its members win fame for himself in the greatest cities of the world? - I at least am prepared to hold out my hand in all sincerity, if it will assist me in my return to Dresden at a later date, and perhaps the city will have no cause to regret having accepted the hand that is offered: I have no need to emphasize how beneficial and consoling this would be to me: only now, now you must let me remain free, - free in every respect.
God knows if all these proposals may not come far too late! Perhaps I have already been foolishly condemned as a traitor, or the like; - I have had no news at all from Dresden, and have heard nothing concerning my wife, either, for 4 days now, something which is a source of great worry to me.
Ah, my dear Devrient, do not now be angry with me on account of this wildly unsettling friendship into which I have drawn you! Help me to become an artist again, nothing but an artist and a man — you will then have greater cause to be content with me.
Source: Selected Letters of Richard Wagner, trans. and ed. Stewart Spencer and Barry Millington (W. W. Norton & Company, 1988), No. 87