Most beloved of men, dear and glorious friend,
When I received your letter yesterday, I was seized by the liveliest desire to set out at once and visit you in the mountains. How happy you must be! Greater than the poet: the poet’s fulfilled ideal!
I am once again reliving my youth with you, save that, in your case, the anxious dream has become a welcome reality. I, too, was fond of roving, of fleeing into the mountains, and of rediscovering myself on lofty heights. No school could teach me the ideas that I formed there. But everything was effortful, cramped and forced: faced by so wretched a reason for living, I often came to look on my rovings, longings and effusive outbursts as a failing worthy only of reproach. I was often in fact subject to censure; it seemed, people said, that “I had been right royally spoilt”. - This is now my experience with my friend: see how free and noble everything appears here! Yes, that is why he is King, a King who is equally well suited to being a poet! - How beautiful, holy beautiful indeed it is for me to have been granted the miracle of truly witnessing and enjoying the dream which my soul had long cherished! - Beware, my beloved friend! My works will soon have no real significance left for us; but only for the world to which they can give notice of what we are to each other: their substance is now the object of our own experience! -
What was I doing when your letter arrived here yesterday? - To spare you the effort of guessing, I shall tell you what it was: - I was dictating my biography! Friend Cosima never tires of reminding me of our King’s wish. Every available hour I now fill by faithfully retelling what my friend then carefully writes down. She is amazed that it is all so fluent, as though I were reading aloud from a book. I am still at the stage of my early years, and she often bursts out laughing as I dictate to her: what joy! The poor child will soon have much cause for weeping, for the years are approaching which cost me ever more melancholy experiences. We have decided to continue the dictation up to the time of my association with you, my dear and glorious King: from then on Cosima shall continue the biography on her own, and, I hope, she will one day complete it. She is best placed to do so, and will bring it to a most splendid conclusion. She has covered 42 sides so far: we have reached my fifteenth year. It will be fairly voluminous, for only now does my real life begin: also, we are constantly interrupted, and the time is now approaching when I hope to be able to devote myself to the resumption of my work with real perseverance. How I yearn to do so: for ultimately I can recover completely and fully from all the misery of the world and all the suffering brought about by my shattered nerves only if I can sit at my desk and work. And yet I create my work for you alone for whom I live! Believe me, even our friend helps me only to live for you! -
What childlike pleasure your gifts have given me, my beloved! In time, I can see, all of the ornaments which I bought elsewhere will disappear, in order to make room solely for my friend’s remembrances, rich in associations as they are. I still had to thank you for the Lohengrin statuette when, much to my genuine amazement, the Tannhäuser painting arrived. I almost regretted having said that I found it interesting, since my dearest friend thought he must deprive himself of it for my sake. Our friend Cosima soon helped me out, however, by claiming that these gifts are valuable and meaningful precisely because they cost the giver such very real sacrifices.
In truth, my dearest friend! The painting enthrals me greatly. It belongs to a style which was created by Cornelius and which is characteristically cultivated in Ille’s work: it reproduces and, as it were, complements, the view of the classical Middle Ages in the way one might assume poetic objects would have been depicted in art if painting had developed to the same pitch as medieval poetry. That is why this style will never be free from the reproach of a certain affectation and artistic pretence, and I believe that, with my own poems and stage directions, I have demonstrated that the objects of the Middle Ages can be depicted in a more ideal, more purely human and more generally valid manner than this school of painting sets out to achieve. The painter who can match my own conception is therefore no doubt still to be found. None the less, this water-colour of the Tannhäuser Ballad, for ex., remains an enthralling and characterful work which I, for one, find uncommonly attractive. My most sincere thanks to its most affectionate donor for such a beautiful gift! -
Yesterday - or the day before - I finally received Semper’s plans back again. I have now studied them in detail, and find them admirable, original, beautiful, and highly suited to their purpose. I was saddened by the letter which friend Pfistermeister enclosed with the consignment: even now the poor man does not understand me, and feels offended when nothing could have been further from my thoughts than to cause him offence; but it is precisely this which was so embarrassing about a situation to which I simply had to put an end: God himself cannot bring about an agreement where a true understanding between like-minded individuals is not possible. The confusions which must inevitably arise each time that two people of totally differing views in the realm of beauty are expected to agree upon the means whereby to achieve success in that realm are something I can tolerate only up to a certain point: putting an end to such conditions has finally become an act of self-defence designed to save my very life. That a man of such skill, experience and extreme versatility as your late father’s Cabinet Secretary should have become the sole personal link between so wonderful and highly poetical a royal friend and the so-called “opera composer” Richard Wagner - a man whom his fellow contemporaries still fail almost entirely to understand - this, I say, was intended neither by his birth nor his training. For some time now I have suffered in the most painful way from the need to arrive at some understanding with this man: forgive me, my beloved friend, if I have caused you even the slightest distress in finally disclaiming him! I could not go on! - but I feel the need, now more than ever, to be just towards Pfistermeister. I genuinely believe that it was always a matter of the most sincere concern to him to carry out the wishes and commands of his King, whose love for me he could no longer doubt, and to carry them out, moreover, in an urgent endeavour to see me calm and content. I have too many demonstrations of the sincerity of his intentions not to feel deeply indebted to him for what he has done. And though I had no other reason for doing so, my recollection of our first meeting after he had come in search of me, having been sent out by my angel to find me, would be sufficient excuse for remaining his friend for ever, and always feeling well-disposed towards him. And that is how it shall be! That is why I am happy to forgive him, with all my heart, for having vacillated between two opposing interests - albeit for only a matter of days perhaps - and for having behaved in a confused and suspicious manner on the occasion of that premeditated catastrophe last winter. He simply did not understand the meaning of your love for me, nor the nature of my mission. He subsequently sought as best he could to make up for the errors that had been committed, and I believe that his loyalty and devotion to his most gracious lord are really not in any doubt. And so, if my royal friend were not to find some reason of which I myself were unaware for removing Pfistermeister from his present office, I myself would most certainly not wish him to be removed in this way. But I believe that I must advise my dear friend to reduce and limit your future employment of this man to the natural level of his original position. To be honest, I believe that the importance of this position has become more comprehensive and weighty as a result of his having held the office for so many years, to the extent that it can no longer appear conducive to the dignity of the King for the present situation to continue. - Hence the well-considered request which I recently submitted to my adored friend, desiring him to choose a just, loyal and representative nobleman of the royal household, who, worthily and regardless of common personal interests, could carry out, to the letter, all the orders and instructions of a monarch whose understanding of art is as deep as yours. You yourself named Baron von Moy to me. It seems to me that my clairvoyant friend has found the right man in him. As far as it has been possible for me to make enquiries, I am pleased to have received only the most favourable reports concerning the unimpeachable honesty and genuinely aristocratic mind of this already highly-placed courtier. How would it be if my beloved King were now to offer this gentleman the following commission: -
By his being appointed intendant of all the departments of the royal household relating to art, he shall be entrusted with supreme control of the Court Theatre and Court Orchestra, and given instructions, in the first place, to organize the budgets of the Court Theatre and Court Orchestra in such a way that, once a detailed enquiry into their needs has been conducted, a new budget may be drawn up and agreed, with appropriately improved salaries first for the Court Orchestra and then for the theatre chorus, after which, with these budgets retained unchanged, the subsidy of the Court Theatre itself may then be fixed. In addition, the intendant shall in future assume responsibility for the King’s commissions and instructions to artists in the various branches of art. In particular he should at once conduct and conclude those negotiations which are required to reorganize the Conservatoire of Music, as well as to construct a temporary Festival Theatre in the Glaspalast, in accordance with the intentions and especial wishes of the King.
The 22nd of July
I had reached this point yesterday when I received a telegraphic despatch from Dresden announcing that Schnorr had just died, at 11 o’clock in the morning! -
Now I have only one Ludwig left! The only one!! -
I must now try to understand this death and - compose myself! -
In spite of my great weakness, I shall be setting out with Bülow at 12 o’clock today in order to attend the funeral in Dresden tomorrow morning at 9 o’clock. - What I feel at this bereavement is almost impossible to fathom! - My Tristan! my beloved! for me he lived - for me - he died! What we see before us here has never before been known or felt! - How shall I look on you when we next meet, you who are all the world to me? - I hope to be back on Tuesday -
Ah, this last sad journey!
Faithful and sad unto death -
Your
Richard
Source: Selected Letters of Richard Wagner, trans. and ed. Stewart Spencer and Barry Millington (W. W. Norton & Company, 1988), No. 328