My good dear Mienel,
My earliest occupation here, after half sleeping off my journey, is to write to you. I've been prattling with you all the time, even when I awoke last night and wanted to set my travel-heated blood in order by a strong effervescent powder; I had no candle, and meant to feel out the inscription on the different packets: it was unnecessary, though, since you prudently had made them up of different sizes, so that I could recognise your forethought even in the dark. In the morning I at once began my usual chat from bed with you and Peps, to pretend I still was with you. It's nicer at home, however!!! And all things considered, the Devil take our quitting one another! —
I had good luck with my journey's connections: at Leipzig I caught the Magdeburg, at Magdeburg the Brunswick train; from Brunswick per the evening mail at 9 direct to Hamburg, which I reached yesterday, Thursday, at 7 P.M. Fatigued I was, and all to pieces, particularly through what I suffered in the crowded diligence, where any stretching of one's legs was not to be thought of, so that at last they not merely hummed, but almost howled. Arrived at my inn, I had a good rest, and simply sent for Cornet. He came, had forty minutes' talk with me, then left me alone and to sleep. All's well, dear child; it was a particular relief to Cornet that I didn't arrive on a Friday. To-day we shall merely discuss and arrange this and that; tomorrow, Saturday, will come the first stage-rehearsal, Thursday 21st the first performance, and Sunday the second, so that I can leave again on Monday and be back with you by Tuesday evening. They've already been rehearsing with the orchestra; and the bandsmen too, so Cornet says, are all fire and flame for the thing. In short, he counts upon an unusual success; which God grant!
I shall chiefly pass to-day with Krebs and Cornet, and so find my way about. — I know of nothing else here yet to write you of. —
The brief glimpse I had of Magdeburg made a great impression on me; — the railway comes straight to the rampart where we so often took our hopeless promenades in times of becalming. Lord, when I think of that rag-fair! For that, it's nearly 10 years now, since we two first came together there, we ancient love-birds! — Have you slept in my bed? In thought I lay both nights in yours: had you fumbled, perhaps you'd have found me in it, — if Peps didn't get there before me.
Na, greet my friends, hold me dear, and take good care the imaginary children don't throw the bed-clothes off at night! Farewell, you good old sweetheart, be of good cheer, and reflect that not everything in the world is as bad as this villainous pen which the waiter has brought me! Adieu, Mienel; many, many kisses from
Thy Richard.
Oh, be so good as to beg Pusinelli, in my name, to send Concertmeister David of Leipzig a textbook of my oratorio too, that one may be printed in accordance there.
Source: Richard to Minna Wagner: Letters to His First Wife, trans. William Ashton Ellis, Vol. 1 (H. Grevel & Co., 1909), No. 17