My good Minna,
It is very disagreeable to me to have to write to you again, firstly because I hope to have you soon with me again yourself, and secondly because I fully understand that no amount of my writing will suffice to revive in you a single spark of moral courage (Lebensmuth). That is natural enough, and as I certainly am unable to write you just yet the only thing to please and reassure you, namely that I have secured another appointment for life — nothing remains but to prove to you by experience that your lot won't really be so cheerless at my side as it is bound to appear to you now from a distance. The most cheerless thing at any rate is separation, at least for me, since it sets me in hourly uncertainty about you and your health: not to know how things are standing, is the worst of all, and you must therefore forgive me if I only think of you when I think of Dresden, not of our animal pets, dear as they are to me also. For my part I've experienced again in person, and conclusively, that the human being is the main affair, outtops all else; your heart, alas — through habit — often seems almost more attached to furniture, houses and so on, than to the living man.
However — even this will surely all clear up for both of us when we're only together again. Your profound dejection is so natural and explicable, that it leaves nothing to say, neither will words dispel it; here life itself must exert its healing power, and with certainty I hope — not through argument — but through life itself to succeed in reconciling you to it again. Your chief anxiety, about our maintenance, will also soon be laid; you have only to gain the conviction that things can't all conform at once and in such hurry to our wish, that we perhaps may need a little spell of patience ere the new and future takes firm shape. And even as regards your own poor parents, for whom I certainly am sorriest, the hardship is only just for now and the immediate future — something better will soon turn up for them as well, be sure. —
How active is Liszt in my behalf, his last letter to me has proved, in which he also intimated that he had sent you 100 thaler: this money, he wrote, was from an admirer of Tannhäuser for the enjoyment that work had given him, but who didn't wish to be named. At the same time he invited me to add to the pianoforte score of Tannhäuser a dedication to the Hereditary Grand Duke of Weimar; which I attended to at once, and indeed with a couple of verses that — without compromising my freethought principles in any way — will make a due effect. Liszt is certain to collect the desired modest yearly stipend for my works before long — at bottom it needs no juggling — only he cannot batter in the door like that at present (after all that has happened), but must proceed a little warily: which means a delaying of the thing, but not its giving up. That you will recognise, dear Wife, yourself? So pluck up heart: our time will come! And even should it drag a little, I'm arranging for immediate needs already. The 300 gulden, which I shall not have to repay till I make them by Lohengrin takings, are the only thing I'm borrowing; I shall earn the rest. A few friends, to whom I had read something of mine, have offered to beat up for me this autumn a select small audience of private subscribers at a high rate, before whom I'm to recite my new poems in a course of three evenings. I shall then give a concert of excerpts from my operas also, — the receipts from both enterprises, which will cause me no trouble whatever, will last us all the winter. — So it's merely a question of gaining time, and everything will straighten; but we must pass that time together, or else it certainly will not be bearable — for me at least. I have already sent my big article on Art to Paris; after it has appeared in the National, Belloni will get it published separately in brochure form, and transmit me the fee. Through Liszt I have also despatched this long essay to a German bookseller, who is to publish it as a brochure in German; if it catches on, I shall then write more — for pay, of course. — Have no fear; I shall be keeping myself, — but you must be with me.
If you only would write me you're coming at last; I deplore each fine day you are missing here! — By all means bring N. with you; I have thought that over, too. But what is all this about a situation for her? She is simply to come to be with you, to help you in every respect, and — as you also very justly remark — that you may have someone about you, should I have to go travelling. In short, she's indispensable to you, and costs next to nothing; would your worry about her be smaller, if you left her behind? If she wants to earn something besides, she can do that better here than at Dresden, for work is better paid here. So bring her in any case.
As regards our residence in Switzerland, don't entertain any fear! The fugitives are nothing to me, and moreover are so dispersed throughout the whole of Switzerland, that one scarcely remarks them at all in single places; any eventual reclamations, also, will only apply to those who took part in the last insurrection in Baden and the Palatinate; — I don't rank here at all as a fugitive, for I have my full Swiss pass and permit for a year's residence, i.e. as good as for ever. To people outside, no doubt, such a state of things always looks worse than it is in reality; war isn't so much as to be dreamt of, and I'm threatened with no other kind of disagreeables, as I have sponsors and sureties enough here to enable me to be fully naturalised in the Canton at any moment. I mix with none but Switzers, as you'll soon be able to convince yourself.
What do I want you to bring me? You will surely be best judge of that yourself: include in your packing those scribblings of mine which you found in my desk, also the bound music and scores which stood in the pillar-cabinet in my study; of the other things you'll be able to form your own opinion what would be of need to me. The scores on the floor, also whatever lay loose in the cupboards, just give to somebody at Dresden to take care of. I have no further orders. I wrote to Uhlig a day or two back, asking him to go on with the pianoforte score of Lohengrin he had already begun from the theatre's full score; I also enclosed a few lines to Fischer, who will doubtless have conveyed you my request by now. Liszt wrote me, Heinrich Brockhaus had lately called on him and offered, from himself and the family, to do everything possible for me. On that I don't particularly reckon — in fact, I'm disregarding it completely. — The main thing is, for you to come here quickly: if N. is with you, Peps will give no trouble even on the railway; only you must conceal him skilfully when you get in. Do try, however, to let me know as precisely as possible when you will be arriving at Rorschach, the first Swiss station on the Lake of Constance, as I should very much like to come and meet you there. I shall not take weekly lodgings before I know exactly from when. Once again, I'm quite crestfallen at having to keep on writing you; my impatience to have you here at last is growing daily, and my vexation at the long delay prevents my finding zest for anything. When I drew the comfort from your letters that you were coming soon, my work at once put on a spurt, — now everything hobbles again. — And then you're surrounded by the cholera too; what everlasting dread and pain that causes me! Up, up! Minna, dear wife! Make haste and come, and my whole heart could wish that this letter itself no longer might catch you! How gladly would I have written it in vain! Pluck up courage and be with me soon! All else I'll keep for word of mouth. Farewell, a pleasant journey, and hope!
Soon to embrace you most ardently,
Thy Richard.
I can find no words to tell you how beside myself I am at your deliberately choosing to start on your journey so late! In this way it may last a fortnight yet!! Fie, that is horrid of you! At first I believed the fault was simply Liszt's delay in sending money, that you would be waiting for it, all impatience to carry out your decision at last. But no, I was mistaken, — arrival of the money has altered absolutely nothing in your purpose!! Only upon reading your letter through once more, have I distinctly made out that you do not think of leaving Chemnitz until Saturday, i.e. to-day, the day I'm writing, 11th of August; and this you wrote me on the 5th!! notwithstanding that you had received news of the money's arrival!!! I confess, dear Wife, this quite intentional delay has turned me rather bitter. So, only to-day are you starting from Chemnitz — where there are no preparations at all to make for your departure — to go to Dresden, where it will last another while before you've seen to everything, which you cannot at Chemnitz! And I am counting the days and hours! So you were simply staying on because you had made up your mind to. Naturally, then, you're in no hurry to come to me! Why should you be? Every Chemnitzer, etc., of course is better than your — husband! Ah me, ah me! God alone knows when you'll come now!
Source: Richard to Minna Wagner: Letters to His First Wife, trans. William Ashton Ellis, Vol. 1 (H. Grevel & Co., 1909), No. 28