Honoured Sir and Friend,
Permit me to hail you forthwith by this familiar name, since I personally am already so much predisposed to you by what I have heard of the amiability and probity of your character that I shall strain every nerve to earn the name and rights of a friend in fact. Laying claim to this status in advance, I have already repeatedly laid myself under obligation to you through my kind sister Cecilie, and the readiness with which you have already undertaken a somewhat difficult matter on my behalf is an earnest to me that the request which is the immediate object of this letter will not be made wholly in vain. You doubtless already know through Cecilie that I now have bold—perhaps too adventurous—designs on Paris. You will be able to judge for yourself with what spirit I am prepared to face a multitude of obstacles when you have done me the kindness of lending ear to my news and views, and my principal reliance is in the good counsel which I at once and heartily beg you to extend to me.
Some twelve days ago, after a horrible and very hazardous voyage of nearly four weeks by sailing ship, I arrived in London, on whose very expensive pavements I was forced to spend eight days, eight ruinous days, through a mistake on the part of the captain who made some stupid muddle with my baggage. On the twentieth day I arrived by steamer at Boulogne where with all possible speed I engaged for a few weeks the cheapest room I could get, out in the country, that is to say about half an hour outside the town. I chose the place upon several considerations, (1) I do not think I should yet meet in Paris many people useful to my schemes. (2) I have still a few weeks' work to do on what I should like to bring completed to Paris, so that on arrival I may be able to begin my machinations forthwith. (3) I really want to rest here a little from the hardships I have undergone before plunging into the hurly-burly which undoubtedly awaits me in Paris. May I, then, in the meantime ask you to get me a lodging in Paris, kindly taking note of the following: an ordinary room with an alcove is naturally quite sufficient for my wife and myself—we could do with a somewhat larger room without the alcove—and it must of course be furnished, though we have our own beds and bedding, table appointments, lamps, kitchen utensils, for we have brought almost our entire little household with us and only sold the least portable things in Russia. My wife will keep house herself, that is to say buy the food, cook, etc., and will need no service except that of a charwoman to help her with the roughest work. [...]
Source: Letters of Richard Wagner, Vol. 1, selected and ed. Wilhelm Altmann, trans. M. M. Bozman (J. M. Dent & Sons, 1927), No. 45