My good Minna,
Let us merely run through the most urgent points to-day. Really my time is very much taken up, what with the necessary purchases and answering letters, — and the most urgent is quite enough, in fact, now we so soon can talk everything over again.
So, lest I should forget anything:
Your muff and fur-collar are here!
That was the most important; now for the rest.
Everything named on the list has duly arrived. A little crockery is broken; not much, though. Pictures and mirrors unharmed. Only the furniture was very much damaged, but has already been repaired again. Everything fits in very well, and I already have bought what was needed. Carpets and curtains were a job: additions were necessary; but nothing has been left unused, and you'll find all old acquaintances. — Please send Jacquot's cage, with the bedding, etc. at once, and consign it to the "petite vitesse" which takes longer, but costs considerably less; whereas "grande vitesse" i.e. "to be despatched with great rapidity," costs considerably more. For this one package, however, perhaps one might run to "grande vitesse"; in any case consign it soon, that Jacquot may find everything ready.
(Enquire how long it takes.)
Your wanting to come via Augsburg has quite amazed me. Has somebody really advised that? I don't know all about the German routes to Paris, but I do know that one can get here from Berlin (via Cologne and Brussels) in 24 hours; please enquire if you wouldn't have a shorter journey by taking this route. I must tell you in confidence, that I am having strong pressure applied at Zurich to get Therese here earlier. Which brings me to your travelling companionship. Someone must travel with you, it goes without saying; on the other hand your last letter shews me that you really are clinging to N., and would like to have her with you. Dear child, when I committed you to her care a year gone by, I indeed had nothing else in mind than the hope that one after all could get on with her; but you dashed that hope of mine yourself. Now, how is one to take you women? Were you right then, or are you now? Is it merely the thought of parting, that is making you tender — or do you really believe N. might please you better than another girl? What am I to say to it, who have my eye on nothing but to make life easy for you, and to keep every occasion of anger as remote from you as possible? Of course it would be the most natural, if one could manage with N.; provided it were offered her, N. could have no other choice whatever, than to attend to you and share our home. In the case supposed, that is her plainly-destined natural vocation, from which she at utmost could escape through marriage; but God knows what is best here! I leave it entirely to yourself: you must know what you've to expect from her now; if you want to hazard it, and would even prefer it, I'm quite agreeable, bring her with you. — It is self-understood that I would have forced no girl upon you; neither had I exactly a picture of beauty in mind, but just such an agreeable young person as one can be without precisely being pretty, and which rather consists in a neatness of nature and good education. — Well, do what seems the pleasantest to yourself; but someone you must have. —
My servant is a splendid chap, quite uncorrupted still, very good-tempered, full of zeal, untiring; he remembers everything, has a really bad time of it at present, but shifts for himself and never complains; he's after people like the Devil, and had already learnt a thing or two in his only previous place. He is very droll, and will amuse you much. He speaks Valais German, and pulls through passably with French. Added to which, he has quite a good appearance, and is only longing for the wife's arrival. — Without him I couldn't manage at all; he makes my bed, does the room, boils me eggs, etc. — I am keeping fine house with one teaspoon as solitary table-gear (apart from knife and fork). I'll write you again about the silver. —
And now for something else. Carlsruhe is off. Devrient wrote me yesterday that the Garrigues also cannot trust herself to sing the music of Isolde, and — I must admit — I'm glad that she declines, or I should have had to decline her. The Hewitz had declined before, as the part lay too low for her: they must be pretty squeakers! — For the present I'm really pleased it has come to this pass. So it's true that Devrient had done absolutely nothing to procure the needful female singer through a fresh engagement, as I originally arranged with him: he positively thinks the Garrigues the greatest woman artist in Germany. Good: I should have said No thank you to a voiceless Isolde for the first performance of my work. — So we'll see what else to do with this new work: I should prefer giving it first with Tichatscheck and the Ney; there I at least know what I've got. If it came off at Dresden, I could fairly stomach the delay; on the contrary, I'm even glad of it, as I should have found it most difficult to get away from Paris this winter. There's work to be done here, best Mutz. Not until yesterday could I come to an arrangement with Roger. I went to see him at his country-seat (you know that the poor fellow lost his right arm a little while ago); I brought the pianoforte score of Tannhäuser with me, but he not only possessed it already, but had even translated the first scene, which he sang us in French very finely. So it's all settled: I am invited to go out to him as often as possible, and preferably to take up my abode in his château so as to be able to help him with the work each day. That I mean to do, so far as possible, to push the thing ahead; for the only point remaining now is the finishing of the translation. In the next few days, accordingly, I shall fix up everything with the director; consequently I must belong exclusively to Paris this winter, and the Tristan would simply have gêned me. On Paris, though, depends my whole financial welfare. — And thus you also have no need to hurry overmuch. When I urged you last, I was afraid I should only be able to welcome you here for a very few days, and then have to set out again for Carlsruhe. But we thus shall stay snugly together, and celebrate the wedding-day at leisure. So — everything is straightening: keep quite calm, take your time over your preparations, and arrive in good trim! Farewell, good Minna. A thousand greetings!
Thy R.
Source: Richard to Minna Wagner: Letters to His First Wife, trans. William Ashton Ellis, Vol. 2 (Charles Scribner's Sons, 1909), No. 196