My dear, beloved friend,
Your telegram with its sad tidings was sent on to me here by telegraph from Geneva; it was impossible for them to do so until yesterday evening since I left Geneva last Monday and have been on the move ever since, with the result that it was not until yesterday afternoon that I was able to send word that, for the time being, I would await all letters and despatches here. In consequence I do not even know the date of your Dresden despatch since it was copied out in Geneva with only the word “Dresden” being added to your name. It is possible therefore that my poor wife died earlier than is suggested by the “last night” of your despatch. I set out for southern France in an attempt to find a place to settle here, somewhere that would meet my most pressing need for the greatest possible seclusion and quiet, and so I have been wandering around, guided only by whatever information I had been given. The need to nurse an injured finger, which I neglected to do on my journey and which is now so inflamed as to have become intolerably painful, obliges me to delay here for several days. I had just retired to bed last night and had been asleep for an hour when I was woken up and given the sad tidings. A number of my friends already knew that I had had a premonition of what was to happen, and that, after all the terrors and cares which have assailed me for so long and which have finally become increasingly intolerable, I had already anticipated that the unhappy news would either destroy me completely or else find me well-nigh indifferent. Up until this morning, after a wretched night, I can describe my condition only as one of utter stupefaction in which I brood gloomily to myself - brood - without knowing what to imagine! -
My cup runneth over: and a nature intended for ceaseless creativity and artistic invention in loving peace and quiet finally finds itself so positively abused and so falsely employed by the kind of use to which life has put it that I am finally forced to smile at all that has happened - which the world may well regard as a kind of madness! - Enough! Let us consider what is to be done next! There is nothing more to be said here - ! -
I shall expect a letter from you in Geneva, in accordance with the telegram I sent you today; perhaps I may expect to receive it there at the beginning of next week. In that way I shall discover more exactly what has happened and how I was represented by you and by my Dresden relatives. I assume that, in your kind concern for my poor, unfortunate wife, you showed her, in my name, the same honours that I myself would have shown her if she had been fortunate enough to pass away at the side of the husband whom she had made so happy. It is entirely in this spirit that I beg you to see to her last resting-place. -
At the deceased’s request I gave her authority last year to dispose as she might think fit of all the goods in her possession, whether owned jointly or by me alone: I assume therefore that she has made appropriate testamentary arrangements, and believe therefore that there is no need for me to involve myself any further here. I would ask you, my dear friend, to calculate at once the expenses which are now being run up for the funeral, place of burial, etc. and which cannot be met from the deceased’s cash in hand, in order that you may receive this sum from me by return. -
May the pitiful woman’s fearfully tormented heart finally find rest!! -
All my own plans and designs have but a single aim now, which is to protect me, at all costs, from the most unprecedented disturbances to my peace of mind, and to protect me in such a way that I may finally recover the composure I need to create and complete my works, since I feel in turn that this is all I can and must now do. That is why I now find myself in the position of having to reply in the most unequivocal terms to my young friend, the King of Bavaria, whose passionate desire it is to have me near him again from Easter onwards, since I am resolved to devote myself wholly to my work and not to any further performances. But it is impossible to find the peace and quiet necessary for my work in such direct dealings with a King when I am so terribly exposed to envy and hatred. This is now my struggle. He is inconsolable. I fear that he might get carried away to the point of abdicating. Judge for yourself the agitations to which I am exposed by the only possible alleviation of this affair! - And so, as on each and every other occasion, everything conspires to torment and afflict my heart! It must be healthy and strong indeed to withstand all this. My poor wife succumbed because, organically, she was less well endowed in this respect. What distress! What misery! - Oh, she is to be envied, she who has finally and painlessly cut short the struggle! - When, oh when shall I find - peace? -
Fare you well, dear noble friend! Some day I shall come to Dresden and avail myself of your hospitality, my thanks, my sincere and heartfelt thanks.
Your much-tried friend
Richard Wagner
Source: Selected Letters of Richard Wagner, trans. and ed. Stewart Spencer and Barry Millington (W. W. Norton & Company, 1988), No. 344