Ah, Mienel, Mienel, never have I seen anything like this Genoa! It is something indescribably lovely, majestic and original; Paris and London shrink into dreary, formless heaps of streets and houses, beside this godlike city! — Naturally I shouldn't know where or how to begin, to describe the impression all this has made upon me, and goes on making; I have laughed like a child, and could scarcely conceal my delight! — Instead of attempting an impossible and useless description, I will merely give you an account of my journey. —
After sight-seeing enough in Turin and its outskirts the day before yesterday — when I couldn't help admiring the city's fine position — I determined to quit that otherwise most wearisome den of a capital and get to Genoa a day the sooner. I had already received your nice kind money-letter; it gave me great joy, and I thank you for it most heartily — especially for your being so "lazy" as you write me. — At Turin I had further seen the "Barber of Seville," which amused me much. So I came on yesterday to Genoa (the longest stretch by rail), where I arrived after 6 in the afternoon and promptly took a room at an hotel, from which I have the harbour and sea directly in front of me. The hotel itself really consists of two palaces, the Grimaldi and Fiesco, which have been turned into an inn now. I am lodging about 6 storeys high, because one has the finest view there; flights of marble stairs the whole way up; all the floors of mosaic, etc., unheard of antique splendour everywhere! Last evening I got myself led round a bit by Signor Raphael (that's the name of my guide); Lord, how astounded I was at these palaces, often touching each other, all beautiful, lofty, superb. Their former owners, the proud, brave patricians of Genoa, of course are all extinct or poor now, and the palaces are mostly let or sold for vulgar use. Thus, on the first floor of the Palais Brignole there was a silk-warehouse; in the parterre and courtyard (with garden), on the other hand, a café. There I ate an ice, drank coffee, and smoked a cigar; a divine night, under oleander trees tall as a house: — I could almost have expired for bliss — I confess — and to make you the choicest gift that I can think of for your birthday, this day I promise you to take a trip to Genoa with you next spring: a treat, good creature, you will have to share!! — A heavenly slumbrousness came over me at last in this divine air which laps one's limbs so soothingly, and almost seems to waft one. I threw the shutters open this morning: there lay the harbour, city, and the sea again, all steeped in sunshine; the sea as blue for leagues as our Swiss lakes, all swarming with ships, masts and sails. With my famous double spy-glasses I have just followed a big ship from farthest distance right into the harbour, and watched her pick up the pilot. Na, you should be spying here!! Not a drop of rain has fallen anywhere around for a couple of months: terrible dust on the country roads. For all that, the air is by no means too hot — it has nothing stabbing or oppressive; one goes about half undressed, but feels uncommonly well and comfortably brisk with it all. It's a proper human breed here: one might give the Stumme von Portici straight off with the men in the harbour; almost naked, tall and slender, brown as Africans, and all with very fine dark, passionate and sentimental eyes. The feminine type loses in comparison; they all go about with white veils over the head and at the side. Perhaps I shall present letters of introduction tomorrow; I didn't at Turin. I have had some strange adventures: at Turin I met Thalberg; in the train yesterday I got into close acquaintance with the Russian Ambassador at Rome, and his wife, whom I very proudly informed I was a political outlaw and couldn't go to Rome. At last they found out who I was, however, and adhered to their invitation to Rome.
Now, I almost think this letter ought to reach you exactly on your birthday; besides the other congratulations I'm sending you, I therefore also wish you health and happiness from my whole full heart herewith. For sure, the whole fifth of September shall be devoted by me to your memory; to your health alone will I eat, drink, walk, look, and taste the air. I expect to keep it in Genoa, which I shall make my head-quarters, in fact, for the next fortnight; my chief excursion, certainly, will be to Spezia, where I may stay awhile perhaps, but I want all letters sent me here. So please continue, dear Mienel, to send to the address last given you: à Gênes (Royaume de Sardaigne).
I left orders in Turin to have letters sent after me hither.
— Just you be quite well and cheerful for your birthday, and console yourself with the thought of your wicked husband, who also is served badly enough! Tell good Pepsel he should only see Genoa too! Everyone must come and see Genoa! —
I think of bathing in the sea to-day; whatever occurs to me after, you shall hear when I write again, occasion for which I'm hoping to receive tomorrow through a letter from yourself. Farewell, dear Mienel. Take a hearty kiss from
Thy Richard.
Source: Richard to Minna Wagner: Letters to His First Wife, trans. William Ashton Ellis, Vol. 1 (H. Grevel & Co., 1909), No. 54