[...] You ask me about the women of my acquaintance. I have got to know many, but am not on familiar terms with any.
Madame Ollivier is a very talented, even a dazzling, personality. [...] I wonder why it is that we see so little of each other. [...] It is the same with all my acquaintances. The chances of gaining anything by cultivating social relations more vigorously are so remote that I am glad to remain passive and—according to the whim of the moment—put up with whomsoever chance brings to my door. Among others [...] there is a Fräulein von Meysenbug, who is staying here at present as governess to some Russian children. [...] When she was brought to see me it was in her favour that formerly, in London days, [...] I treated her very badly in a fit of ill-temper. The remembrance of this affected me and she [...] likes me better now. [...]
In the so-called upper circles of society, there is a lady whom I used to know superficially, but who interests me more now than formerly. She is the Countess Kalergis, a niece of the Russian Chancellor of State, Nesselrode, of whom I think I have already told you. [...] Last summer, when staying for a time in Paris, she sought me out and arranged that I should get Klindworth to come from London to play with her. One day I sang the second act of Tristan with Mme. Garcia-Viardot, tête-à-tête, save for Berlioz. And we looked into The Nibelungs as well. I did this for the first time since I left you. What drew my attention to this lady was the impression she gave me of a strange weariness, a scorn and disgust of the world, but I might not have been interested if I had not at the same time recognised a manifestly profound yearning for music and poetry which, under the circumstances, seemed to me significant. As, moreover, her talent in these directions was great, the lady could not fail to interest me. She was also the first person I came across to startle me—quite spontaneously—by her really noble apprehension of my position. [...]
Frau von Pourtalès, wife of the Prussian ambassador, seems to be not without depth, and in any case has a fine taste.
I have discovered that the wife of the Saxon ambassador, Frau von Seebach, has a great deal in her. I was surprised by a sort of gentle fire, glowing as it were beneath the lava. She cannot understand how anyone could fail to see the tremendous passion in my conceptions and thought it dangerous to take her young daughter to Tannhäuser. One becomes acquainted with such curious people! But they are only acquaintances! [...]
[...] Rehearsals are going forward with unheard-of conscientiousness, almost past my understanding, and there is no doubt that the performance will be remarkable. Niemann is altogether sublime. He is a great artist of the rarest quality. The success of the other rôles will be due more to training. Still I hope extreme care will suffice to hide any absurdities. [...]
Source: Letters of Richard Wagner, Vol. 2, selected and ed. Wilhelm Altmann, trans. M. M. Bozman (J. M. Dent & Sons, 1927), No. 483