God knows whether you will receive this letter, dear Minna, or whether you really did receive my yesterday's in time to start for here. Anyhow I'm writing, since I want to have a chat with you that way at least. Yesterday I did not get to bed till after midnight, and at 5 this morning I had lights brought and the stove lit, as I couldn't lie sleepless any longer. Had you been here, you see, we should have sat up chattering the whole night through, — but there was only me!
Lord, what doesn't one experience on such an evening as this last; what hasn't my mind gone through again! It was one of the most critical nights for me! — Just think, — with this fantastic opera, completely off the beaten track, and offering from the outset so little that is grateful or attractive, I was making my bow before a public entirely strange to me! I felt that keenly: in all this audience there wasn't a single personal friend of mine, not a soul prepossessed in my favour, — everybody sitting in ordinary cold curiosity, thinking: H'm, what sort of a thing will it be, this Flying Dutchman? — After the overture, not a hand stirs; the melancholy first act is listened to with strained and wondering attention, without any one knowing which way to take it; with difficulty is the singer a little rewarded here and there; — in short, I grow aware of my position — but don't despair, for I see that the representation itself is going extraordinarily well. The second act commences, and I gradually convince myself that my aim is attained: I have cast a spell about the audience, and the first act has attuned it to a key which makes it capable of following me whithersoever I will. The interest increases, suspense is changed to agitation, exaltation — enthusiasm; and before the curtain falls a second time, I celebrate a triumph such as certainly but few have reaped. Never, not even at Dresden with Rienzi, have I seen or heard such a prolonged outburst of enthusiasm as that which followed the curtain's fall here: — one could see and hear that among the whole assembly, high and low, prince, lord and beggar, there was not a single person who didn't cheer like mad. And when at last I appeared with the singers, you would have thought the house was coming down! —
So I had an easy job with the last act: the scenery went as excellently as its effect; everything was sung and acted very briskly, and came to a surprisingly rapid close, which itself was represented very well. Long ere the curtain fell the tumult broke loose afresh, and it roared for an eternity before I could thread my way out from the orchestra and come forward with the singers, who were waiting for me once more. — In brief, my dear wife, I have scored a remarkable triumph: those alone can judge the extraordinary and unprecedented nature of my victory here, who are in a position to weigh exactly all the circumstances, the present state of our operas, the complete and startling variance of my departure in this Holländer. —
The representation was entrancingly fine; — all sang and acted like gods — I could have eaten them; — the Marx quite turned my head: if there was anyone I expected little from, it was she — and how she cheated and surpassed my expectations! I'll say no more to you, than — insane as it sounds — the Devrient will have to look to her laurels. — The only opportunity I had of letting off a little steam after the performance, was supplied me by the Devrient. She had sent for me some hours before the theatre, — I called, and found her with her lover; you know what she is, but for all her unconventionality she greatly cheered me by her sympathy. After the performance I spent another hour with her; she had suffered and rejoiced with me, and was highly pleased with the success. Then, when I got back to my hotel, the landlord received me with a congratulation: his guests had sounded the alarm already, and trumpeted their enthusiasm. — How I wish you had been there!! Nay, don't you think I need be cross with you? — I sat up in bed all night alone, and babbled to myself.
I'm to dine at Meyerbeer's to-day, at Küstner's tomorrow. I haven't seen Meyerbeer yet since the performance. The King was present, and somebody who kept his eyes on him assured me it pleased him uncommonly. Mendelssohn, at whose table I have also been once, quite made me glad: — after the performance he came on the stage, embraced me, and congratulated me very cordially. —
I am writing to Lüttichau by the same post, that I shall reach Dresden on Thursday.
Adieu, you horrid Wifie! If I'm cross with you, don't let that make you cross with me; it's all because I'm so fond of you! —
Kind regards to the assistant. Farewell; I shall soon be back with you.
Thy Richard.
Address: Ihrer Wohlgeboren Madame Minna Wagner, Ostra-Allee Nr. 6, in Dresden.
Should Madame Wagner be away, this letter is to be delivered to Königl. Musikdirektor, Herr Röckel, who is authorised to open it.
Source: Richard to Minna Wagner: Letters to His First Wife, trans. William Ashton Ellis, Vol. 1 (H. Grevel & Co., 1909), No. 16