(Do you have to pay extra on my letters??) Yesterday morning, dearest old woman, I received your pink letter; then Eschenburg came, and brought me your yellow. Touching this latter, it grieves me that an oversight at the Post should have turned you so rusty at once. Since I had had to write to Wesendonck, as you advised me yourself in fact, I referred you to him for further news of me: and you thought that so dreadful! — You were right to disown the yellow letter in advance. For the rest, as regards Semper's reports, you know my abode now through my own description: if Semper saw more rooms, it must be ascribed to his imaginativeness as architect; but perhaps you simply understood him wrong, just as distrustful people sometimes don't hear rightly. Do you believe I'd tell you all a story, maybe to feather my nest here on the sly? — If Semper said I'm standing champagne here, it was very modest of him; for it was he who paid for a bottle of champagne after the first concert, and as I couldn't afford to revenge myself, I promised him a champagne-fete at Zurich instead. That — it seems — he has expressed quite elegantly. — For that matter, I was only three times in his company: when I went to him last, he had meant to be just departing, but had been delayed by a row with a workman; which had thrown him into such an awful temper, that he wanted to smash up his whole house. That amused me, and I began joking about it in my usual way, which ended by sending him into fits of laughter; hence his conveying you the report of my jocular mood, which seemed to you in such a contradiction with my letters. — Really, a mite of belief in those nearest one is a beautiful thing. Belief doesn't appear to strike very deep with you, and I often have to give you explanations it were better to omit —
Your having written to Alwine that Hülsen was to send the 100 L. d'or to me in London, is a fresh confusion again, and will cost a lot of money. What on earth can have warranted you in believing I shouldn't eke out with my money here? Have I ever cast a moment's doubt on my even saving something to bring back to Zurich? All I gave you to understand, was that it is dearer here than Wesendonck wished to impress on me, and that I certainly must live very simply and make no long excursions, if I meant to save up; which, on the other hand, has always been my aim and intention. My God, please don't read anything behind my lines that isn't in them! I shall do better to keep things to myself in future, and not lament again about my stay here, as you people really always end by seeing something beneath it, perhaps even affectation; for you yourself, alas, have no notion at all of my candour! — So — let us drop the subject! —
I have been invited by Eschenburg and Gerber to go with them to Sydenham to-day, to see the Crystal Palace; my first outing from London. Next time I'll tell you all about it. —
For the last 2 days Spring weather has also set in; mild, balmy — but relaxing air. I enjoyed it yesterday in Hyde Park; as soon as the trees turn green, I shall go to Richmond, and some day to the Isle of Wight as well, where it is said to be very beautiful. Otherwise I'm always suffering from enervation, which after all is better than excitement, only that I have no true spirit for my work yet; I feel as if I had forgotten it all: God knows if it will return to my memory. On the whole I'm dragging on from day to day, without the smallest zest for life: — but there, I won't complain! —
I've nothing more to tell you of the concert business here. A letter inviting me to the committee seems to have recently gone astray, and accordingly they made up their programme without me. To-day I learn that the gentlemen have chosen a symphony of Spohr's and a ditto of Mendelssohn's (the same which A. Müller regaled us with at Zurich lately): ah, what bliss for me! However, I have written Herr Hogarth at once and lodged a protest, requesting a symphony by one of those gentlemen to be at least accompanied by one of Beethoven's. I shall see if I'm in time to alter it. — After all, though, it's much the same to me; a Beethoven symphony doesn't make a hair's breadth more effect here, than any other. You would laugh if you could only see this audience: what the men have too long between nose and mouth, the women all have too short; not one can close her mouth, but perpetually displays two naked teeth. Moreover, the ladies all wear the most atrocious colours, hardly any but scarlet burnouses, etc.; one often sees an enormously luxuriant coiffure, with roses and curls, and for frontispiece a nose with glasses. —
Of my future bearings towards these relations I haven't a notion, but hope the Philharmonic won't be so stupid as to want to engage me again at double the fee, as I suppose one would be obliged to accept for dear money's sake; and then you would have to come too — and then — you'd be very sorry for me. I say nothing further! I have been to the Beast-garden again, and this time made my chief call on the lions and tigers, who snarled a good deal at me over their meal; two lion cubs are very intimate with a bull-dog. The birds are fabulous; a wonderful species of ostrich with rose-coloured wings surprised me much. But the whole thing is very fine! — The other day Klindworth played me a sonata of Liszt's too beautifully for words; it was in the evening, at my rooms, and both of us wrote to Liszt at once, which will have given him great delight. — For the rest, I'm living even lonelier than at Zurich here, but also do not care a rap for people. Things will go of themselves, and the time slip by.
For to-day, dear stern Wife, make the best of these jottings, for which I strictly had no other motive than to give you just a sign of life, that you mayn't be harbouring black thoughts again. I thank you much for the assurance that you're feeling well; believe me, I would rather hear that than anything! — And just you be easy about me; I shall arrive at the end, and not come to grief with it. Give a thousand greetings, and tell Sulzer all the kind things from me one ever can say. Farewell, good Muzius, don't be obstinate again, and only think the best of me; even then you won't be thinking well enough of
Thy Richel.
Source: Richard to Minna Wagner: Letters to His First Wife, trans. William Ashton Ellis, Vol. 1 (H. Grevel & Co., 1909), No. 82