My Dear Richard,
One does not gladly come to a wedding with empty hands; if one does not give a present of value, then one brings an inoffensive pleasantry. As such may you regard the little trifle enclosed — a description of two especially delightful scenes on our stage.
I thank you heartily for your wedding announcement that was sent to me, and this all the more, since I am the first to whom you sent it and since you sent it at once after the ceremony. I know that in your heart I hold one of the foremost places; I wish to maintain my place there. To your respected wife I bring my heartiest congratulations. May God preserve you both!
You too will be most deeply moved, as I am, by the mighty occurrences of the past six weeks. In stormy haste our keenest hopes are being fulfilled. We see before our eyes a new mighty Empire arising, the Barbarossa is awakened, the ravens flee croaking, Germany is united. From now on, Germany will stand at the peak of civilization; German art, warmth, profundity, integrity, innocence, veracity, coupled with German strength, have torn away the hypocritical mask from the face of French falsehood and have annihilated it. Hail to your noble young King, who, courageously, serenely and firmly, without flinching or hesitating, has seized the German standard and holds it aloft. History will extend him its reward, all Germany will, in high veneration, offer him the wreath of its favourites. I believe that I am not mistaken when I attribute a great share of this noble deed to you. Through your whole patriotic German national bent, you have kindled and sustained in his young noble heart the flame that now stands gleaming in a mighty blaze in the German heaven. Glory to you for that also! And like the young King, you have inspired thousands of hearts with enthusiasm for the national cause. You noble sower, now see your harvest.
My family sends heartiest regards.
May you and your faithful wife, whose hand I kiss sincerely, preserve for me your love!
Your
Anton Pusinelli
Source: The Letters of Richard Wagner to Anton Pusinelli, trans. and ed. Elbert Lenrow (Alfred A. Knopf, 1932), No. 93