Skip to main content

Full text of "Wagner and his works; the story of his life, with critical comments"

See other formats 


Google 


This  is  a  digital  copy  of  a  book  that  was  preserved  for  generations  on  library  shelves  before  it  was  carefully  scanned  by  Google  as  part  of  a  project 

to  make  the  world's  books  discoverable  online. 

It  has  survived  long  enough  for  the  copyright  to  expire  and  the  book  to  enter  the  public  domain.  A  public  domain  book  is  one  that  was  never  subject 

to  copyright  or  whose  legal  copyright  term  has  expired.  Whether  a  book  is  in  the  public  domain  may  vary  country  to  country.  Public  domain  books 

are  our  gateways  to  the  past,  representing  a  wealth  of  history,  culture  and  knowledge  that's  often  difficult  to  discover. 

Marks,  notations  and  other  maiginalia  present  in  the  original  volume  will  appear  in  this  file  -  a  reminder  of  this  book's  long  journey  from  the 

publisher  to  a  library  and  finally  to  you. 

Usage  guidelines 

Google  is  proud  to  partner  with  libraries  to  digitize  public  domain  materials  and  make  them  widely  accessible.  Public  domain  books  belong  to  the 
public  and  we  are  merely  their  custodians.  Nevertheless,  this  work  is  expensive,  so  in  order  to  keep  providing  tliis  resource,  we  liave  taken  steps  to 
prevent  abuse  by  commercial  parties,  including  placing  technical  restrictions  on  automated  querying. 
We  also  ask  that  you: 

+  Make  non-commercial  use  of  the  files  We  designed  Google  Book  Search  for  use  by  individuals,  and  we  request  that  you  use  these  files  for 
personal,  non-commercial  purposes. 

+  Refrain  fivm  automated  querying  Do  not  send  automated  queries  of  any  sort  to  Google's  system:  If  you  are  conducting  research  on  machine 
translation,  optical  character  recognition  or  other  areas  where  access  to  a  large  amount  of  text  is  helpful,  please  contact  us.  We  encourage  the 
use  of  public  domain  materials  for  these  purposes  and  may  be  able  to  help. 

+  Maintain  attributionTht  GoogXt  "watermark"  you  see  on  each  file  is  essential  for  in  forming  people  about  this  project  and  helping  them  find 
additional  materials  through  Google  Book  Search.  Please  do  not  remove  it. 

+  Keep  it  legal  Whatever  your  use,  remember  that  you  are  responsible  for  ensuring  that  what  you  are  doing  is  legal.  Do  not  assume  that  just 
because  we  believe  a  book  is  in  the  public  domain  for  users  in  the  United  States,  that  the  work  is  also  in  the  public  domain  for  users  in  other 
countries.  Whether  a  book  is  still  in  copyright  varies  from  country  to  country,  and  we  can't  offer  guidance  on  whether  any  specific  use  of 
any  specific  book  is  allowed.  Please  do  not  assume  that  a  book's  appearance  in  Google  Book  Search  means  it  can  be  used  in  any  manner 
anywhere  in  the  world.  Copyright  infringement  liabili^  can  be  quite  severe. 

About  Google  Book  Search 

Google's  mission  is  to  organize  the  world's  information  and  to  make  it  universally  accessible  and  useful.   Google  Book  Search  helps  readers 
discover  the  world's  books  while  helping  authors  and  publishers  reach  new  audiences.  You  can  search  through  the  full  text  of  this  book  on  the  web 

at|http: //books  .google  .com/I 


WAGNER  AM)  HIS  WORKS 


BOOKS  BY  HENHY  T 

FLNCK 

P.TBU 

licB  DT  CHARLES  SCRIBNER'S  SONS 

Smi;«»  Id  Miuic  ud  Ho*  U  O  Won.    Ci 

SVO.      IPu.lOIW  K(Tll),             ...      Ml 

12  00 

SORU 

■Dd  Soai  WrH«».     IZmo, 

.    «! 

11 .3S 

Vt'MK 

Lite 

■r  lUid  Hii  Wvrtu.    Tb«  Story 

.    i;  toU.   c.  Svo,      ,      . 

hPoi- 

„» 

cbopr 

.  and  Olhcr  Hiukll  E««»t 

12nio 

II  .GO 

LMo>- 

tlllLS 

S|>.id 

Time   In  J>p*n.     W'Kb  10  tu 

l-pagc 

■nd    noroccD.      Sludin   in 

Local 

The  P^Hic  Court  ScMlc  Tour.     Wlib  M 
full-pBge  illuaiisiioiu,    Bvo, 

12.60 

PriDit 

«U..««lU.v^-i«.    8 

(3.00 

■??:^ 


Iff  ^  If 


WAGNER   AND   HIS   WORKS 


THE  STORY  OF  HIS  LIFE 


WITH  CRITICAL  COMMENTS 


HENET  T.  FINCK 


VOLUME  U 


WITH  PORTRAITS 


NEW  TOHK 

CHARLES    SOEIBNEE-S    SONS 

191 1 


TRISTAN  AND  I80U»  IN  HDHICn US 

Tbk  Skcohd  BArasviH ISS 

Bebbibul*  Am  FiBvOBMAwnB IM 

Story  oc  the  Dbaha.. U8 

A  FocM  FOB  Pom 14S 

A  ScoBB  poB  Hmoun US 

MSLODT    TBBina    TuHK  .  .  . IM 

ROMAITTIC    LOTB    IM    WaOHBB'S  OpWUI Ul 

Gbkb  op  TniuTAN  Chiticisu ITO 

POLITICAL  AND   PERSONAL 1« 

Bahubed  Aoaix 174 

Ah  Ideal  Swiss  Homb 181 

RoTAL  AXD  Othbb  VuRinB 188 

LoTE  or  Luxmr 191 

LOTB  OF  Ahihals 197 

Platti:lm;,hb  and  Hdkob 906 

WAGNEB'S   ONLY  COMIC  OPEBA 211 

FlEST    MtlMKHSlSr.ER    PEHfOBMANCE 211 

SroBT  oy  TUE  Mahtkhsingehs 217 

The  Poem  ahd  thb  Musia 221 

Thb  Chobos  tH  Waoneb's  Opbbas 231 

Beckmesser  Criticisks       230 

Jgn3G!j,  Dhesden   akdVihtiia 238 

FROM  MUNICH  TO  BATBEUTH 242 

HiiEi>icoT.i>  AND  Walkubk  ih  Muhich 242 

Second  Mahriai;!-:  aed  SiBOfBtBD  Idtl 245 

SCBOPEKHAPEK    AND    WaQNBS 247 

A    FoOtlBB    LiBHETTO  262 

EAlBEBKABaCil    AND  FunEKII!   COHQUBSTS 256 

Tausio's  HapI'V  Thodoht 258 

N^Wht  Baybei:iii? 262 

Latino  the  CoRNEn-StOHB 264 

la  IT  National?     270 

TlLLA    WAnNFBlEB 277 

NnBLDHO  Theatbb  and  Ihtisiblb  Obchbstba 281 

NiBBLDBO  AKV  Othbk  Rbbeaxuui 267 


The  First  Batbbuth  Festival 296  / 

A  ScAKDiLOUH  Spbecu 307    ^ 

THE  NIBELUNG'S  EING SJ8 

Dab  RtiBtNOOLD 818 

DiB  WalkUre 326 

SwmiBD,  TUB  FOBBHT  Dbama 340 

Du  GOttbruXmnebuho 356 

NiBBLUHO    CbITICS   AND  FbOFBBIS 3S7 

THE   PARSIFAL  PERIOD 379 

FlNAXCIAL  RMDt.T  OF  THB    NlBBtUHO   FBSTIYAL 376 

Thb  LoHDon  Festival 378 

Plans  fob  thb  Fdtcbb 882 

BaTRBUTHBR   BLJiTTEB  —  LAST   ESSATS 88S 

VlVlSKCTIOM  AMD  Veoetabiahibb 887 

The  Tbatelliho  Waomeb  Thbatbe 3S9 

Thb  "Cieclh  HOlbbh"aoain 8M 

CoKPOBITIOlt  OF  Pabsifal 396 

First  Fabbifal  Festival 401 

Stobt  of  Parsifal 404 

Poetic,  Pictorial,  and  Musical  Fbatubbs 412 

Pauifal  Cbitics 429 

Thb  First  Pbbfobnakce 438 

THB  LAST  SEVEN  MONTHS 488 

In  the  Vendrabin  Palace 488 

A  Jdvbmilb  Work  Rbtivbd 444 

Illness  and  Death 447 

BUBIAL   AT   BaTRBUTH 4K 

WAGNER  AND  WAGNERI8M 466 

Pbbmical  Tbaits 466 

Pobtio  Fbcdliarities 467  i 

Mtth  and  Music 474 

Vocal  Sttlb 477 

Iaadiho  Motives 492    - 

In  America 603 

INDEX 617 


LAST  TEARS  OP  EXILE 

XPTBR  LONDON 

Punch,  after  all,  was  right  in  referring  to  the  "  musio 
of  the  future  "  as  "  promissory  notes. "  These  notes  were 
not  to  be  redeemable  in  gold  till  many  years  later,  and 
Wagner,  realizing  this,  left  London  precipitately  the  very 
next  momiDg  after  his  last  concert.  From  Paris  he  wrote 
to  Praeger,  expressing  his  delight  on  having  got  back  to 
the  Continent,  and  his  hope  of  being  able  soon  to  resume 
composition,  "  the  only  enjoyment  in  life  still  left  to  me." 
He  had  not  forgotten  his  wife,  but  succeeded  in  smuggling 
some  fine  laces  for  her  through  the  Paris  custom-house. 
A  week  later  he  writes  from  Zdrich,  chiding  Praeger  in 
his  playful  way  for  not  giving  him  the  important  London 
news;  to  wit:  — 

"  Yon  might  at  least  bare  writtaa  to  say  you  were  glad  to  haro 
got  rid  of  me,  how  slBtar  Uonle  fares,  and  how  Henry  Is,  whether 
Oyp"?  [Praeger'B  dog]  has  made  bis  appearance  in  society,  whether 
the  cat  has  still  its  Imd  cougb.  Heaven!  hom  many  things  there 
are  of  which  I  ought  to  'he  informed  in  order  to  be  at  esM  I  As 
for  me,  I  am  still  idle.  My  wife  has  made  me  a  new  dressing- 
gown,  and  what  is  more,  wonderfully  fine  silk  trouserB  for  borne 
wear,  bo  that  all  the  work  I  do  is  to  loll  about  in  this  costume,  first 
OD  one  sofa  and  then  on  another." 

His  wife  was  delighted  to  see,  on  unpacking  his  trunk, 
how  well "  sister  L6onie  "  (Praeger's  wife)  had  taken  care 


,  LAST   TEARS   OF  EXILE 


d 


of  hia  Wiwlijylw;  and  to  her  not  long  afterwardB  Waguer 
wrote  ^'loiig "letter  in  French  which  those  who  have  curi- 
osity r^g'wding  hia  proliciency  in  that  language  may  read 
in.J'i-atifcer's  book  (277-280). 
■  J^e  also  remembere-d  hia  other  intimate  London  friends, 
■■^ainton  and  LGders,  with  greetings  and  letters.     Twenty 
._  .years  later,  when  the  preparations  for  the  first  Bayreiitli 
'  Festival  were  in  progress,  CoQcert-raaater  Sainton  wrote 
to  liim  in  order  to  fiud  out  if  he  still  held  him  in  reinetu- 
branee.     In  his  reply  Wagner  gives  us  a  glimpse  of  the 
warm  gratitude  he  always  felt  towards  ti'ue  friends,  and 
also  adds  a  must  important  bit  of  information.     Here  is 
a  translation  of  the  letter ;  — 

"  You  had  no  need  o(  recallinp  to  my  mind  the  rerncmbronce  of 
you.  I  have  dictated  to  m;  wUe  in;  whole  itte  ;  she  wished  lo 
kQow  everytbing  about  It.  This  U  all  written,  and  will  be  left 
to  my  aon,  to  be  published  after  my  death.  And  you  ?  You  figun 
to  yourself  thai  you  will  not  figure  in  thi*  biography  ?  The  devil  I 
No.  8  Hind  Street.  And  LUdera  ?  The  whole  history  of  you  two 
Is  deposed  in  this  manuscript,  from  Uelsingfors  to  Toulouse  (pac- 
ing Hamburg),  And  London  ?  Charlemagne  ?  Where  are  yoor 
wiia,  my  dear  fellow  ?  " ' 

COMPLETION  OF  THE  WALKtJHB 

On  his  return  to  Switzerland  he  made  preparations  to 

complete  the  compositioa  of  the  second  drama  of  the 

Nibelung  Tetralogy,     It  has  already  been  stated  that  he 

I  began  the  musical  execution  of  this  drama  in  the  summer 

I  of  1854  (June).     He  went  at  it  with  the  characteristic 

I  1  From  this  letter  (the  French  orl^nal  of  which  la  printed  In  Hnet- 
'  fsr's  ffa^a  Century  of  Mutlcin  Enyland)  we  may  hope  for  lotne  mora 
Interesting  details  regarding  the  London  episode  when  tbe  Autobio- 
graphy !■  pubUshad. 


COMPLETION  OF  THE  WALKUBK  3 

buoyancy  and  enthusiasm  that  made  him  look  on  all  hie 
previous  achievements  as  comparatively  inaignificant. 
"  Now  for  the  composition  of  DU  WaSciire,  which  deli- 
cioualy  pervades  all  my  limbs,"  he  writes  to  Liszt;  and 
again,  on  July  3d:  "The  WalkUre  is  begun:  this  is  the 
real  beginning,  after  all  I "  (Jetzt  geht  es  doch  erst  los). 
In  about  half  a  year  he  had  completed  the  sketch  of  this 
gigantic  score,  and  in  January,  1855,  he  was  already  hard  . 
at  work  on  the  instrumentation  of  the  first  act.  "When 
he  packed  his  trunk  for  London,  he  enclosed  his  sketches, 
hoping  to  complete  the  scoring  of  the  whole  drama  in 
England}  but  in  this  he  was  disappointed;  the  London 
climate  did  not  a^ree  with  him,  and  failed  to  furnish  the 
necessary  stimulus  to  his  creative  power,  while  the  wor- 
ries over  his  conductorship,  and  the  failure  of  his  operatic 
hopes,  consumed  whatever  nervous  energy  and  desire  to 
work  was  left  in  him.  In  April  he  laments  that  London 
has  put  him  dreadfully  back  in  his  work;  that  he  has 
only  just  finished  the  first  act. 

■'  Everytbing  seems  to  cling  like  lead  to  my  mind  and  body : 
I  have  already  renounced  my  dearest  hope  for  Ibis  year,  —  tbat  ol 
being  able  to  commence  my  Young  Sieg/Hed  immediately  on 
leturnlngto  theSeellaberg;  tor  I  shall  bardly  get  beyond  tbe  second 
act  [of  tbe  WatkSre]  in  tbla  city.  Constituted  aa  I  am,  I  need  a 
very  soft,  sympathetic  element  U  I  am  to  work  joyfully ;  this 
constant  necessity  for  drawing  myself  together  in  self-defence  only 
inspirea  me  wilb  defiance  and  disgust,  not  with  love  tor  eqianslon, 
for  production," 

The  London  climate  even  made  him  lose  what  little 
voice  for  singing  he  had,  which  he  regretted  because  it 
deprived  him  of  the  pleasure  of  going  over  the  first 
act  of  tbe  Walkiire  with  Klindwoith,  who  had  already 


4  LAST  rEASS  OF  EXILE 

arranged  that  act  for  pianoforte,  and  "  played  it  splen- 
didly," It  was  Klindworth  who  arran^d  tlie  whole  of 
the  Nibetung's  Ring  for  the  pianoforte,  an  instrument 
which  he,  as  a.  spe(.^ial  student  of  Chopin,  understood 
thoroughly.  It  may  be  added  here,  in  parentliesia,  that 
Wagner  was  generally  lucky  iu  regard  to  the  pianoforte 
arrangements  of  Ma  operas,  Uhlig  having  done  Lohen- 
grin, Klindworth  the  Nfbelang'a  Ring,  Haas  von  Bfllow 
Tristan,  and  Tausig  the  MeisUrsinger.  Josef  Rubin- 
stein's PdTsiful  is  somewhat  less  satisfactory  than  these; 
bnt  his  TujiJihfiuser,  baaed  on  the  later  Paris  version,  is 
of  course  preferable  to  the  older  edition. 

On  his  return  to  Ziirich  Wagner  was  delighted  with  the 
change  of  »ir,  and  once  more  felt  inspired  to  take  up  Die 
Walkilre,  wliich  he  had  in  the  latter  part  of  Ma  London 
sojourn  abandoned  entirely.  Bnt  he  did  not  remain  lung 
in  Zflrich,  for  the  neigliborinj;  Seelisberg  tempted  him 
with  its  ozone  and  its  extensive  Alpine  panorama.  On 
this  mountain,  to  wliieh  he  constantly  refers  in  his  letters 
as  his  ideal  place  for  work  ("the  most  delightful  discov- 
ery I  have  made  in  Switzerland,"  lie  writes;  "up  there  it 
is  so  beautiful,  so  ravishing,  that  I  am  full  of  desire  to 
return — there  to  die"),  he  had  hoped  to  begin  his  beloved 
Siegfried  this  summer;  but  now  the  Watkiire  was  to 
receive  the  benefit  of  its  stimulating  atmosphere.  His 
habitual  ill-luck,  however,  followed  him  even  to  this 
mountain  top.  The  demon  of  sickness  came  to  lodge  in 
his  bouse.  "My  wife,  [Kirticularly,  causes  me  great 
anxiety,"  he  writes  to  Praeger.  "Her  ever- increasing 
ill-health  helps  to  render  me  very  sad.  Worried  and 
troubled,  I  resume  work.  I  stmggle  at  it,  as  work  ia 
the  only  power  that  brings  to  me  oblivion  and  makes  me 


COMPLETION  or  TBS  WALKUBE  6 

free."  Soon  he  too  was  prostrated  by  illness  and  con- 
fined to  his  bed  for  several  weeks.  On  Not.  3  he  was 
still  on  the  Seelisberg,  whence  be  wrote  to  Praeger  that 
he  dragged  himself  throi^h  life  as  a  burden,  his  only 
delight  being  work;  his  greatest  sorrow  the  loss  of  deaire 
to  work;  his  greatest  misfortune  the  terrible  mutilations 
to  which  his  works  were  subjected  and  which  would 
increase  should  be  die  in  exile.  "This  touches  me  to 
the  heart,  to  the  very  core.  It  is  when  under  such  feel- 
ings that  I  occasionally  lose  completely  —  yes,  even  for  a 
long  time — the  desire  to  work.  These  periods  are  ter- 
rible, for  then  nothing  remains,  nothing  to  comfort  me." 
During  the  last  few  months,  he  adds,  be  had  regained  a 
little  of  his  old  enthusiasm,  when  his  illness  again 
thwarted  his  plans.  A  passage  in  an  undated*  letter  to 
Liszt  (So.  196)  paints  his  mood  in  still  more  sombre 
colors : — 

"Hy  nttw  deapondency  la  Indeaorfbable ;  wmetimeB  I  aUre  at 
my  paper  lor  daya  togetber,  without  remembrance  or  thought,  or 
liking  for  my  work.  Wbeie  ahoold  I  get  the  iDjspiratioQ  for  it  ? 
.  .  .  When  I  began,  and  quickly  flnkbed,  the  Shtlngold,  I  waa 
still  feaaUng  ou  the  reminlBoenoe  of  the  intercoorae  with  you  and 
yoota  [Liszt  had  paid  him  a  viait,  which  will  be  presently  dwelt 
on].  For  the  last  two  yeara  all  aronnd  me  baa  grown  silent,  and 
my  occasional  contact  with  the  outer  world  la  intiarmonioua  and 
dlaplriling.  Believe  me,  this  cannot  go  on  much  longer.  If  my 
external  fate  does  not  soon  take  a  different  turn,  if  I  find  no  posal- 
hllity  of  seeing  yon  more  frequently,  and  of  hearing  and  producing 
some  of  my  works  now  and  then,  my  fountain  will  dry  up  and  the 
end  be  near.  It  is  Impoeslble  for  me  to  go  on  aa  now.  .  .  .  The 
Walkiirt  I  have  now  with  difficulty  completed  to  the  middle,  Inolud- 


LAST  YEARS  OF  EXILE 


ing  a  clear  copy.  Now  I  bitve  been  kept  from  work  far  eight  dftjTB 
b;  lllDeBB:  il  this  thing  conlinues,  I  ahall  soon  despair  of  ever 
elaborating  my  skeidtes  and  completing  the  score." 

Nothing,  surely,  is  more  astouiiding  in  the  history  of 
the  human  mind  than  the  artistic,  heroism  shown  by 
Wagner  in  undertaking  and  continuing  his  gigantic  Tetral- 
ogy, when  he  sincerely  believed  that  he  would  not  survive 
its  performance.  Remember  tliat  at  this  date,  fifteen 
years  after  his  Rienzi  had  been  produced  in  Dresden,  no 
other  country  but  Germany  had  heard  any  of  his  operas; 
that  the  amazingly  protracted  negotiations  regarding  the 
first  perfoniiiinoe  of  the  ten-year-old  Tannhduser  in  Ber- 
lin were  not  yet  at  an  end;  that  Vienna,  Munich,  and 
Stuttgart  had  ap  to  that  date  not  produced  a  single  one 
of  bis  operas ;  that  if  these  comparatively  easy  and  pop- 
ular operas  could  not  be  properly  done,  and  failed  to 
support  him,  it  was  supreme  folly  to  hope  anything  from 
such  mammoth  works  as  he  was  then  engaged  on,  — bear 
these  things  in  mind,  and  who  can  fail  to  pay  his  tribute 
of  admiration  to  Wagner's  artistic  character,  his  moral 
courage,  his  devotion  to  an  ideal?  But  the  despairing 
words  just  quoted  show  tliat  although  he  was  capable  of 
such  a  sacrifice,  it  often  entailed  a  deep  struggle  and  the 
keenest  mental  anguish. 

We  are  now  in  a  position  to  imderstand  why  the  scor- 
ing of  the  Walkiire  progressed  bo  slowly  that  the  end  of 
the  drama  was  not  reached  till  April,  185C.  On  Oct.  3, 
1855,  the  composer  sent  the  completed  first  two  acts  to 
Liszt,  with  most  interesting  critical  comments,  followed 
by  this  pathetic  utterance :  — 


"But  should  you  like  nothing 
leaat  once  more  be  pleased  with  my 


all  i: 


this  score,  you  will  at 
t  handwriting,  and  will 


COMPLETtOS  OF  TBB  WALEUSE  7 

think  the  precantion  of  red  llnea  Ingenioos.  Thli  repmentatlon 
on  p^WT  nil!  probably  be  the  only  one  whicb  I  shall  ever  schtere 
with  this  work  ;  for  which  reason  1  linger  over  the  copying  with 

ntdafaction.  ^  ^ 

In  the  tragedy  of  Wagner's  life  there  is  one  sonrce  of 
consolation  vhich  never  failed,  and  that  Bource  was  the 
gteat,  warm  heart  of  Franz  Liazt  —  the  noblest  heart  that 
ever  beat  within  an  artist's  breast.  So  eager  was  the 
poor  exiled  composer  —  who  could  neither  produce  his 
own  scores  nor  even  play  them  on  the  piano — to  have  a 
word  of  encouragement  and  sympathy  from  one  who  could 
thus  hear  them,  that  he  would  not  wait  to  complete  the 
new  score,  but  sent  what  there  was  of  it  to  Liszt.  And 
how  did  Liszt  respond  to  this  appeal? 

"Tour  Walktire  has  arrived— and  gladly  would  1  sing  to  yon 
with  a  thousand  voicea  your  LoKengrin  chomH,  'A  wonder  —  a 
wcmder  I  *  Dearest  Bidiard,  jou  are  truly  a  divine  man  I  and  my 
]oy  consists  In  following  you  and  feeling  with  you.  When  we  meet, 
more  about  youi  magnificent,  mairellous  work  wlilch  ...  I  am 
reading  through  'in  great  inner  eicitement.'  " 

The  Princess  von  Wittgenstein  added  her  tribute :  "  I 
wept  bitter  tears  over  the  scene  between  Siegmund  and 
Sieglinde!  —  That  is  beautiful,  like  eternity,  like  earth 
and  heaven."  What  a  privilege  was  that  which  this 
woman  enjoyedl  To  hear  the  greatest  pianist  the  world 
had  ever  seen,  play  over,  for  her  and  himself  alone,  the 
scores  of  the  greatest  of  all  dramatic  composers  almost 
before  the  ink  had  had  time  to  dry  I 

When  the  last  act  also  had  been  completed  (in  April), 
it  was  at  once  sent  to  Liszt  with  this  message :  — 

"  I  am  extremely  eager  to  know  how  the  last  act  will  affect  you; 
for  l)eside  yon  I  Ikave  no  one  to  whom  it  would  be  worth  while  to 


o* 


.tLiru'd  by  a  visit  from  Lisz 
tluit  you  must  yet  stay  awa^ 
Can't  you  come  and  make  me 

THBSB  VISITS  1 

As  Wagner  could  not  visit  hi 
out  risking  imprisonment  for  his 
the  only  way  for  the  two  to  meet 
Zdrich.     This  he  did  thrice  dur 
and  the  two  friends  also  met  on 
Paris.      On  July  11,  1853,  Wagi 
just  had  "  a  wild  week's  revel  wit 
visit  to  Zdrich  was  made  in  Octobei 
this  occasion  accompanied  by  Eicl 
how  Wagner  read  to  them  his  newl 
poems,  while  Liszt  retaliated  by  pi 
thoven's  last  sonatas.     Frau  Wille 
friends  embraced  each  other  on  Li 
an  interesting  anecdote.     Her  husl 
pianist  if  there  was  no  possibility  ( 
for  Wagner  to  return  to  Germany ; 
that  he  knew  of  no  stage  that  coulc 
Wagner's  works  —  that  he  neede 
orchestra,  in  short,  everything,  ace 
tentions.      Whereupon  Wille  ''- 
probably  cost  a 


IT* 


TBBXX  riaiTS  FROM  LISZT  9 

icallj,  —  in  FreDoh,  u  was  his  oustom  when  he  wu 
excited,  —  " llVoMral-   LemiBion  m  trouverat" 

These  visits  from  Liazt  were  to  Wagner  what  the  pres* 
enoe  of  Freia  is  to  the  gods  in  Bheingald,  —  a  source  of 
health,  oheerfnlnesB,  and  rejoTeoation.  "After  we  had 
seen  you  carried  away  from  as,"  he  wrote  to  Liszt  (July 
16).- 

■■  I  did  not  apMk  saothar  word  to  Ownge ;  In  ■Ueoee  I  ntnriMd 
to  mjr  bonw,  •Ummw  pnntUad  ovorywben.  Thna  wu  ooi  patting 
calebntod— yon  dear  man:  all  brl^tnaaa  had  gone  from  ni i^ O, 
oome  again  soon  f">Ut7  with  n«  vei7  long  I  ^  If  jon  only  know  what 
bmoM  of  dlTinity  yon  bave  left  beUnd  I  Everytblng  has  beoome 
nobler  and  gentler ;  magnanimity  pemdea  all  minds — andnieUn- 
oholy  brooda  over  eTerrthlng." 

Was  there  ever  soch  a  friendship  as  that  between  these 
twomnsiciana?  The  active  part^  of  necessify,  was  entirely 
on  Liszt's  side,  for  Wagner  was  not  in  positioD  to  do 
anything  for  his  friend,  wheress  Liszt  had  Uie  power  and 
opportunity  to  do  very  much  for  him.  Kor  was  he  ever 
chary  in  those  words  of  encouragement  which  were  even 
more  as  halm  to  Wagner's  wooded  soul  than  his  actions 
in  behalf  of  his  operas  and  domestic  comfort.  "  You  are 
already,  and  are  becoming  more  and  more,  the  focus  of  all 
noble  aspirations,  exalted  sentiments,  and  honest  efforts 
in  art,"  he  writes  in  1863.  "This  is  my  sincere  con- 
viction, without  pedantry  or  charlatanism,  both  of  which 
are  a  horror  to  me."  And  this  feeling  was  but  strength- 
ened as  time  rolled  on.  "Hy  passion  for  yonr  tone- 
and-word-poems  is  the  only  thing  that  prevents  me  from 
resigning  my  post  as  Kapellmeister. "  He  even  elaborated 
a  project  for  a  Ooethe-stipend  at  Weimar,  with  annual 
prizes  for  important  new  art  works:  in  doin|[  which 


10 


LAST  TEARS  OF  EXILE 


he  had  in  mind  especially  the  forthcoming  Nibelung 
dmnas.  Did  Liszt  ever  become  weary  of  his  friend's 
incessant  demands  on  hia  sympathy,  time,  and  resources? 
Bead  his  letters  and  be  convinced  of  the  contrary.  He 
constantly  urges  him,  in  fact,  to  let  him  know  what  he 
eu)  do  for  him.  It  Is  pathetic  to  see  how,  whenever  he  is 
unable  to  meet  Wagner's  wishes,  he  apologizes,  regrets, 
and  explains  just  why  he  cannot  do  so,  offering  hia  cordial 
sympathy  as  a  possible  substitute :  "  for  truly  I  do  not 
believe  there  are  many  men  on  this  globe  who  have 
inspired  so  deep  and  constant  a  feeling  of  sympathy  with 
any  one  as  you  have  in  me."  This  was  in  1856;  and  in 
1869  (Aog.  22)  he  writes  that  Wagner'a  bust  always  adorns 
his  Triting~desk  —  "of  course  without  the  company  of 
other  celebrities  —  no  Mozart,  no  Beethoven,  no  Goethe, 
and  vhaterer  the  names  may  be  of  those  who  are  not 
admitted  into  this  room,  the  heart  of  my  house." 

Never,  on  the  other  side,  were  favors  received  with 
more  profuse  gratitude  than  that  which  W^ner  felt 
towards  Liszt,  and  expressed  in  many  of  his  letters:  — 

^  "  Yon  wen  tbe  first  and  only  one  who  made  me  feel  tite  ecstMT 
of  being  completely  nndentood."  ^'Tour  friendahip  ia  the  moM 
Important  md  etgnificant  event  In  my  life."  ■'  Without  the  en- 
couragement of  yonr  Bympathy  my  poor  mosical  capacities  matt 
•oon  loee  their  cnnning."  "  I  have  a  claim  on  yoa,  as  on  my 
creator;  pou  are  the  creator  of  what  I  now  am :  I  live  only 
tlirongh  iioti — thla  is  no  exaggeration."  "It  would  have  been 
Impoadble  to  do  as  mncti  for  myielt  in  Germany  as  you  have  done 
for  me."  And  once  more.-  "  Where  lias  there  ever  been  an  artist, 
a  fairad,  ^to  did  for  another  what  yon  have  done  for  me  1 1 
SfTmly,  U  1  shoold  despair  of  llie  whole  world,  a  glance  at  yoa 
raises  me  np  again  high,  filled  with  faith  and  hope.  I  cannot 
ooDoelve  what  would  have  become  of  me  these  four  years  wlthoot 


THBSX  VISITS  FROM  LISZT  11 

yoM :  uid  whftt  bBve  yon  made  of  me  I  It  ia  really  enchuitlag  to 
observe  youi  actions  during  thU  time  from  my  point  of  view !  I 
Here  Uie  conception  and  Uw  word  'gntitiide'  ceaae  to  bkve  a 

This  outburst  of  pent-up  gratitude  is,  as  usual,  followed 
by  an  appeal  for  a  visit  from  his  friend  and  bene&ctor. 

Friendship  like  this  ia  such  a  very  rare  pheDomenon  in 
modem  life  —  where  it  seems  to  have  been  displaced  by 
romantic  love — that  I  may  be  pardoned  for  quoting  two 
more  short  passages,  the  firat  by  Wagner,  the  other  by 
Liszt:  — 

\, 
N  "  If  I  conld  only  describe  Uie  lore  J  feel  for  yon  I  Then  ia  no 
pang,  no  ecstasy,  which  does  not  vibrate  in  this  love  t  To-day  I  am 
toitored  bj  }ealonay,  fear  of  what  is  foreign  to  me  In  your  unique 
character  1  apprehension,  care  —  even  doubt — ensue,  and  then 
again  it  flames  up  in  me  like  a  forest  Are,  which  only  a  shower  of 
the  most  voluptuons  tears  can  at  last  extinguish.V  You  aie  a  won- 
derful man,  and  wonderful  U  our  love  t  Without  loving  ourselves 
as  we  do  we  could  have  only  hated  one  another  ferociously." 

And  Liszt,  in  his  last  will  and  testament,  pays  this 
final  tribute  to  his  friend :  — 

"  His  genius  has  been  a  beacon  light  to  me ;  I  followed  it,  and 
my  friendship  for  Wagner  always  bore  the  character  of  a  noble 
passion.  At  a  certain  period  I  had  dreamed  of  a  new  art-period 
for  Weimar,  similar  to  that  of  Carl  August,  in  which  Wagner  and 
I  would  have  been  the  leaders,  as  formerly  were  Qoethe  and 
BcbiUer — but  untoward  drconistances  ended  this  dream,"  > 

After  the  completion  of  the  WaikUre,  W^ner  became 
more  and  more  urgent  in  his  invitations  and  entreaties 
for  another  visit  from  Liszt.  Besides  the  craving  for 
'4  der  2bmHU,  VSO, 


12 


LABT  YEARS  OF  EXtLK 


personal  iiitiro nurse,  there  was  now  a  new  motive  in  hifl|| 
Ijuiuiug  dfsiri'  to  hear  how  his  JJibelung  Boores  —  so 
aa  rompletod  —  would  sound,  at  least  on  the  piano.  Ha  J 
could  not  iiby  his  own  scores  on  the  piano;  orchestral'l 
f  pi'rfonnitncus  he  could  not  pay  for;  and  hia  political  posi- 
tion did  out  pi.Tiait  him  to  go  where  it  would  have  been 
possible  to  produce  them.  Hence  the  prophet  had  to 
come  to  tiie  nuiuutain :  Liszt  must  come  to  Ziirich  and  play 
the  ffibelung  scores.  Nor  was  Liszt  at  all  unwilling. 
But  as  lie  had  agreed  to  compose  his  Graner  Messe  and 
conduct  it  in  Hungary,  he  could  not  repeat  his  visit  until 
(Ictoher  (isnii).  In  the  meantime  he  was  enjoying  the 
scores  of  Rheingold  and  Walkiire,  which,  he  wrote,  had 
for  bim 

"  the  fabulous  attractive  power  of  the  magnetle  mountain,  which 
Irresistibly  ln-hls  fast  ahips  nnri  mariners,  II.  h.lR  been  liotB 
a  few  dayx,  and  1  cnuld  not  nithhold  from  him  the  pleasure  of 
beholdiiij;  your  Walliiilla;  su  lie  bangs  and  rattles  the  orchestra 
on  the  piano,  while  I  howl,  moan,  and  roar  the  vocal  parts.  This 
byway  of  prelude  to  (inrBrand  pfrformance  in  your  Ziirich  palace, 
to  which  I  am  looking  forward  with  eager  pleasure," 

Not  so  eagerly  as  Wagner,  however:  this  poor  man, 
'now  in  his  forty-third  year,  batl  not  yet  found  the  means 
to  provide  himself  with  a  good  piano,  and  an  indifferent 
one  had  had  to  do  such  .strvice  as  was  called  for  during 
the  composition  of  Rheuiifokl  and  Walkiire.  As  Liszt's 
visit  drew  near,  he  realiziui  that  he  could  not  pliice  such 
an  instrument  before  the  world's  greatest  pianist.  So^le■ 
thing  must  be  done  to  receive  him  more  wortliily.  A 
first-class  Erard  —  and  —  of  course  —  happy  tJiought! 
Liszt  himself  must  jirovide  it!  Not  as  a  present,  neces- 
BaiUy, — although  there  would  be  no  reasonable  objectiooa 


TBBEX  VISITS  FBOM  LISZT  18 

to  that;  but  Liszt  might  Trite  to  the  widow  Erard  and 
beg  her  to  send  him  a  piano,  to  be  paid  for  at  yard-long 
intervals  —  say  at  the  rate  of  9100  a  year. 

"Tell  her  that  yon  visit  me  three  timet  (1)  every  year  and 
must  therefore  abaolutely  have  someOiiag  better  than  my  crippled 
inatniment.  Tell  her  a  hundred  thoosand  flhs ;  make  her  believe 
It  is  a  point  of  honor  that  an  Erard  should  stand  in  my  boose.  In 
short,  do  not  reflect  —  but  go  to  work  with  inspired  impudence  1 
/must  have  an  Erardt" 

Liszt  was  not  the  man  to  say  nay  to  such  a  request: 
"Whether  Madame  Erard  is  willing  to  place  one  of  her 
grands  in  the  advantageous  way  you  indicate,  is  a  ques- 
tionable question,  concerning  which  I  shall  take  occasion 
to  consult  her,"  Doubtless  he  did  so;  but  whether  the 
result  was  favorable,  history  sayeth  not.  Inasmuch  as 
Madame  Erard  had,  on  a  previous  occasion  (in  London), 
placed  a  piano  at  Wagner's  disposal,  in  answer  to  a  re- 
quest by  Liszt,  let  us  assume,  to  the  widow's  credit,  that 
she  did  contribute  her  mite  to  making  the  meeting  of 
these  two  great  men,  and  the  first  trial  of  the  £rst  half  of 
the  Nibelung  Tetralogy,  worthy  of  the  occasion.* 

The  moral  which  we  may  draw  from  his  inability  to 
play  his  own  full  scores  on  the  piano,  is  that  even  a  great 
orchestral  composer  should  not  despise  that  compendium 
of  musical  instruments.  Wagner  tells  ua,  with  a  certain 
pride,  in  the  first  paragraph  of  his  Autobiographic  Sketch, 
that  he  never  learned  to  play  the  piano.  In  bis  Oper  und 
Drama  (IV.  9,  10)  he  emphasizes  hia  contempt  for  that 
instrument  by  calling  it  "toneless"  and  accusing  it  of 

'  Concerning  hta  temporary  London  Eraid,  Wagner  wrote  after 
thanking  Liszt :  "I  believe  It  I  once  owned  an  Inttniment  like  that,  I 
would  yet  learn  to  play  the  plane." 


>     Km/  *J    V* 


.    i.ave    turned   with   such    mighty 
orchestra,  and,  as  it  were,  through  this  to  t 

But  there  were  occasions  when  a  p 
despised;  and  one  of  these  was  whe 
coming  down  to  Zdrich  to  play  the 
music-starving  friend.     So  anxious  wi 
WaOcUre  played  by  Liszt,  that  the  v 
repeatedly  postponed. 

**  The  anticipation  of  going  over  this  score  ( 
you,  is  the  only  advantage  to  myself  I  hope  froi 
totally  onahle  to  undertake  it  on  the  piano  in 
derive  any  pleasure  from  it.    You  alone  can  d^ 
intend,  therefore,  not  to  have  you  meet  me  till  I 
whole  with  you.** 

To  get  his  own  voice  into  proper  conditio 
Liszt,  he  even  practised  solfeggios.  It  ha 
stated  that  Wagner  could  no  more  sing  1 
play.  Praeger  relates  that  one  evening,  : 
sang:  — 

**  And  what  singing  it  was  1    It  was,  as  I  tol< 
like  the  barking  of  a  big  Newfoundland  dog.    He 
but  kept  on  nevertheless.    He  cared  not.    Yet  thoi 
was  but  howling,  he  sang  with  his  whole  heart,  an 
were,  spellbound.** 

On  the  occasion  of  his  third  visi*^^  ^'^  "^ 
1856),  Liszt  was  accm 


ltv»- 


WAONBB-S  OPVflOlf  OF  LI8ZTB  MUSIC       16 

genstein  and  her  daughter,  and  it  was  at  hei  qoartera  that 
Liszt,  W^Tier,  and  the  wife  o£  Kapellmeister  Heim,  who 
had  an  excellent  roice,  attempted  a  primitive  interpre- 
tation of  the  WaOaire  in  presence  of  an  assembl^e  of 
distinguiahed  guests  invited  by  Liert  to  the  hotel  Baar. 
The  performance  was  warmly  applauded,  and  the  listeners 
would  have  4)een  no  doubt  greatly  surprised  had  any  one 
foretold  that  twenty  years  would  elapse  before  this  drama 
would  have  its  first  adequate  performance.  Liszt  re- 
mained several  weeks,  and  a  few  epistolary  fr^meats 
addressed  to  him  during  this  festive  period  indicate  that 
Wagner,  who  had  to  nurse  hia  health,  was  occasionally 
compelled  to  desert  his  boon  compamons  and  advise  them 
to  follow  his  example  and  go  to  sleep.  In  November,  an 
excursion  was  undertaken  to  St.  Gallen,  where  Wagner 
conducted  the  Eroica  symphony,  and  Liszt  his  own  Pri- 
ludes  and  Orpheua.  Concerning  the  impression  made  by 
these  two  pieces,  Wagner  writes:  "Our  orchestras  are 
usually  good,  and  when  Liszt  himself,  or  his  initiated 
pupils  are  conducting,  success  can  never  fail  any  more 
than  it  did  when  Liszt,  e.g.,  appeared  before  th«  honest 
citizens  of  St.  Gallen,  who  so  touchingly  expressed  their 
astonishment  that  compositions  which  had  been  described 
to  them  as  being  so  bombastic  and  formless,  were  found 
to  be  so  clear  and  so  easily  comprehended." 

WAQNXB'S  opinion  of  LISZT'8  HU8I0 

The  sentence  just  quoted  contains  an  intimation  of 
Wagner's  opinion  of  Liezt  as  a  composer  —  an  opinion 
which  has  been  as  persistently  misrepresented  by  Liszt's 
enemieB  as  his  attitude  towards  the  masters  of  the  dassi- 


..^iiLecl  tens  of  thousands  Avitli  & 
the  masters  of  all  schools  as  no  one 
by  his  countless  transcriptions  for  ti 
make  good  orchestral  works  and  soi 
Kapellmeisters  and  singers  put  toget 
a  kind  word  for  everybody,  who  wa 
the  incompetent,  who  wittingly  offe 
whose  tact  and  amiability  are  evincec 
and  doings,  — Liszt  had  enemies?    Ay 
enemies  who,  on  account  of  his  loft 
finally  succeeded  in  driving  him  from  A 
in  the  press,  enemies  everywhere;  critic 
haps  more  bitter  and  venomous  even 
This  fact  alone  refutes  the  oft-made  ass 
opposition  to  Wagner's  music  was  caused 
'*  personal  arrogance,"  his  "  polemic  essays 
of  diplomatic  tact."    If  that  were  true, 
explain  the  fact  that  Liszt,  who  had  not 
gance  or  aggressiveness,  who  wrote  no  ] 
and  whose  diplomacy  was  proverbial,  fai 
than  Wagner  as  regards  criticisms  and  pei 
badly,  indeed,  that  his  symphonic  poemi 
now  beginning  to  make  their  way  in  O 
halls? 

The  enemies  of  Liszt,  not  content  wi 
compositions  all  merit,  even  attp*-  ' 
mblio  in  regard  ♦^  *^ 


WAQNSKB  OPmXOS  OF  LtSZTB  MUSIC        17 

others,  notably  by  Wagner.  Dr.  Hanslich,  for  instance, 
had  the  audacity  to  remark,  in  his  review  of  the  Wj^ner- 
Liszt  Correspondence  that,  whereas  Liszt  always  praises 
Wagner's  compositions  in  a  tone  of  deep  conviction, 
"Wagner,  on  the  contrary,  confines  himself  to  a  few 
rather  vague  explosions  of  enthusiasm  for  his  'wonderful 
great  friend '  without  making  any  special  remarks  regard- 
ing his  separate  works.  .  .  .  That  be  did  not  by  any 
means  esteem  Liszt's  works  highly,  bis  intimate  friends 
knew  very  well."  This  assertion  is  enough  to  take  away 
the  breath  of  any  one  who  bus  read  Wagner's  essay  on 
Lint's  Symphonic  Poems,  and  the  numerous  entbusiastic 
references  to  his  separate  works  in  the  Correspondence, 
which,  together,  would  make  up  about  thirty  pages  of 
this  volume. 

In  the  essay  on  LisiU's  Symphonic  Poem*,"^  W^ner 
points  out  Liszt's  originality  in  a  sphere  where  some  of 
the  very  greatest  composers  were  mere  imitators ;  namely, 
in  the  creation  of  a  new  form  for  instrumental  music, — 
the  Symphonic  Poem, — which  he  pronounces  superior  to 
the  old  symphonic  form.  We  know  that  in  his  earlier  theo- 
retical works,  Wagner  had  expressed  his  belief  that  abso- 
lute (purely  instrumental)  music  bad  reached  its  highest 
development  in  Beethoven,  and  that  there  was  nothing  to 
be  expected  beyond.  But  in  this  essay  be  frankly  admits 
bis  error:  Liszt  baa  convinced  him  that  a  new  develop- 
ment was  possible,  and  not  only  a  new  development  bat 
an  extremely  important  one:  while  the  Symphony  is 
evolved  from  dance  and  march  rhythms,  the  Symphonic 

■  One  of  th«  moit  roggenfTe  uid  ralnable  tmttiM  to  ftll  mmiol 
Ittentore ;  ft  paper  which  evaiy  critic,  protewor,  uoaMor,  and  profM- 
■ional  ahonld  leain  1>j  heart.    It  ii  printed  in  VoL  V.  335-487. 


18  i.jja  TEAMS  or  Jtnzjp 

Poem  has  a  poetie  motive;  iti  form  is  conditioned  hy  tiaoi 
development  of  a  poetac  idM,  and  not  by  a  change  or 
alteration  of  slow  or  liraly  duace  rhythms :  "  Now,  I  aek, 
is  the  march  or  danoe^  with  all  the  thottgbts  accompany- . 
ing  this  act,  a  mora  wtatiij  sootce  of  Form  than,  e.g.,  tha 
idea  of  the  principal  and  most  oharacteristic  features  in^ 
the  actions  and  snfCaringa  ot  an  Orpheus,  a  Prometheus, 
etc.?" 

Nor  did  Liszt  exhaoHb  hia  originality  l^  thai  ozMting 
a  new  orchestral,  form  vhicb^  in  its  o^ania  nnify,  is  a> 
superior  to  the  old  iQ'mboUo  form  vith  its  nnoonneotsd 
movements,  as  W(l|gnei'8  miuic-dzama  is  to  the  old  mosaio 
of  unconnected  opeiatio  tOQes.  He  had  also  the  gift  dt 
filling  these  forms  with  interesting  ideas.  Wagnet  taa^ 
tifies  to  "  the  extraordinary  wealth  of  musical  prodnotlTS 
power  manifested  by  the  great  tone-poems  which  were 
placed  before  as  as  by  magic " ;  and  he  points  out  the 
"  great  and  eloquqpt  definiteness  "  with  which  the  subject, 
or  idea,  is  presented  in  these  symphonic  poems,  in  a  musi- 
cal transformation.  "  This  inspired  deliniten^ss  of  mnsi* 
cal  conception  is  expressed  by  Liszt  at  the  very  beginning 
of  his  compositions  in  so  pregnant  a  way  that  I  often  had 
to  exclaim  after  the  first  sixteen  bars,  'Enough;  I  have  it 
all.' "  He  also  appeals  to  the  lady  to  whom  this  essay 
was  addressed  as  a  public  letter:  — 

"Yoa  were  witness  ot  the  exttaordinaty  ezsJtation  of  feeling 
induced  in  me  by  Liszt  when  be  played  bis  new  works  for  me. 
You  saw  me  when  I  was  overwhelmed  with  emotion  and  J07  tliat 
at  last  Hucb  tblngs  could  have  been  created  and  communicated 

Imagine  Wagner's  astonishment  when  his  pupil,  Karl 
Bitter,  informed  him  one  day  that  Liszt's  enemies  were 


WAONESra  OPINION  OF  LISZrS  MUSIC        19 

assuring  the  reading  public  that  in  this  essay  he  "really 
expressed  himself  evasively,  sjid  took  pains  to  say  noth- 
ing definite  about  Liszt! "  Bitter  was  led  by  this  report 
to  read  the  essay.  The  result  was  that  "he  was  de- 
lighted," as  Wagner  wrote  to  Liszt  (No.  290), 

■>U>  note  the  enormons  Importance  I  assigned  to  jou  therein. 
Immediatelj  I  too  —  fall  of  BstonishmeDt  at  the  posaibility  of  a 
miaunderBtandlng — read  the  letter  over  again,  and  could  not  but 
join  thereupon  In  Karl's  cordial  deannciation  of  the  incredible 
obtuseaess,  saperfioiallt;,  and  triviality  of  the  persons  who  found 
it  poasible  to  mlsuudentAnd  the  import  of  this  letter. ' ' 

As  for  Liszt,  he  wrote  in  his  next  letter:  "I  told  yon 
at  the  time  how  cordially  I  waa  delighted  with  your  lettet 
to  M.on  my  symphonic  poems;  —  let  us  take  no  notice 
of  the  gossip  about  it  started  by  imbecility,  triviality, 
and  malice." 

Does  it  not  seem  extraordinary  that  in  face  of  all  this, 
a  professor  of  Musical  History  at  the  University  of 
Vienna  should  have  had  the  audacity  to  write  the  words 
we  have  above  quoted?  We  stand  here  before  another  rid- 
dle, and  not  a  pleasant  one.  But  the  riddle  deepens  when 
we  read  the  references  to  Liszt's  compositions  scattered 
through  the  Correspondence.  On  March  5,  1855,  he  tells 
Liszt  frankly  what  he  likes  and  what  he  does  not  like 
in  his  Kilnaller,  and  explains  the  difference  between  his 
own  method  and  Liszt's.  He  offers  to  produce  some  of 
his  works  in  London  (to  which  Liszt  refuses  his  consent), 
and  on  April  5, 1855,  he  writes:  — 

"  KUndworth  has  just  plajed  lor  me  your  grand  aonata !  We 
spent  the  day  together;  he  dined  with  me  and  afterwards  he 
played.  Dearest  Franz  t  Now  you  have  been  with  me  1  The 
■onata  is  lieaatif  ul  beyond  all  conception ;  grand,  bvely,  deep,  and 


.,  io.>.),  Wagner  wrote  a^'uiu:  — 

*'  If  there  is  anything  to  come  to  whic 
anticipation  as  true  enjoyment,  it  is  the  \ 
your  new  compositions.    DonH  forget  to 

One  of  the  most  important  of  the 
compositions  is  dated  July  12,  185( 
essay  in  aesthetic  analysis,  but  I  can 
elusion  reached :  — 

**  Thus  I  look  on  your  orchestral  works  as 
of  your  personal  art,  and  herein  they  are  so  i 
critics  will  need  a  long  time  to  find  out  what  t 

A  postscript  to  the  same  letter  adds :  '' 
beautiful  your  Mazeppa  is :  I  was  quit 
after  reading  it  through  the  first  time  I 
for  the  poor  horse :  how  cruel  are  nature 
A  week  later  (July  20)  he  writes  again : 

*•  With  your  symphonic  poems  I  am  now  qi 
are  the  only  music  I  have  anything  to  do  wi 
cannot  think  of  doing  any  work  of  my  own  wh 
leal  treatment.  £yery  day  I  read  one  or  the  ol 
Just  as  I  would  read  a  poem,  easily  and  withou 
I  feel  every  time  as  if  I  had  dived  into  a  crystal 
be  all  alone  by  myself,  having  left  all  the  work 
an  hour  my  own  proper  life.  Refreshed  and 
come  to  the  surface  again,  full  of  ^'^^  ' 
Yes,  my  friend,  w^—  ' 


WAGNEB-B  OPINION  OF  LISZTS  MV81C        21 

"  I  feel  thoroughly  contemptible  aa  a  musician,  whereas 
yju,  as  I  have  now  convinced  myeelf,  are  the  greatest 
musician  of  all  times "  (Dec.  6,  1856).  Passages  like 
this,  where  Wagner,  in  a  fit  of  despair,  depreciates  his 
own  powers,  are  not  infrequent  in  his  letters.  See  espe- 
cially the  extraordinary  outburst  of  self -destructive  lava 
in  a  letter  dated  May  8, 1859,  in  which  he  confesses  that 
he  is  convinced  from  the  bottom  of  his  heart  that  he  is 
"  an  absolute  bungler, " '  while  Liszt  is  an  artist  "  from 
whose  every  pore  music  pours  in  wells  and  streams  and 
waterfalls."  He  found  that  he  remembered  every  detail 
of  the  Dante,  but  takes  that  less  as  a  compliment  to  his 
own  memory  and  receptive  powers  than  as  evidence  of 
the  "  peculiar  grandeur  "  of  that  symphony. 

Among  the  letters  from  Wagner's  pen  that  have  been 
lost,  or  remain  unpublished,  up  to  date,  none  arouse  one's 
curiosity  more  than  those  which  he  wrote  to  his  former 
revolutionary  colle£^ue,  August  Boeckel,  who  was  aging 
prematurely  in  the  Waldheim  prison.  Wagner  always 
did  what  he  could  to  alleviate  his  loneliness  by  sending 
him  the  scores  of  his  operas  as  they  came  from  the  press, 
knowing  that  the  ex-conductor  would  prize  them  above 
all  treasures.  From  the  Waldheim  prison  also  comes 
indirect  testimony  as  to  the  high  value  Wagner  placed 
on  Liszt's  music:  he  wrote  so  much  about  it  to  Boeckel 
that  the  imprisoned  conductor  became  eager  to  see  some 
of  it,  and  begged  Wagner  to  send  him  some  of  Liszt's 
scores  (Correspondence,  No.  245).  No  one  who  knows 
Wagner's  undiplomatic  and  stubborn  sincerity  would 

1  Thig  ge«Tn>  10  have  eecaped  Mr.  Joseph  Bconett's  attention.  Why 
try  to  prove  laborious!;  that  ft  nuui  U  a  bnngler  or  a  cbktlatui,  when 
be  ftdmita  It  UiumU? 


liiO^^        J-Jli7>^l>     v^      Jlll4> 


,vn«'i,  if  lie  (lid  not  admins  it  sin 
Imitation,  the  sincerest  form  of  1 
added  to  Wagner's  tributes  to  Lis: 
August  GroUerich,  in  his  biography  c 
anecdote :  — 

**  It  waa  at  a  rehearsal  of  the  Walkiire 
attended,  when  suddenly,  as  Sieglinde  uttc 
*Did  father  then  return,*   Richard  Wagnei 
exclaiming:  *Papa,  here  comes  a  theme  whi 
•  Very  well,'  replied  Liszt,  *  then  it  will  at  leat 
getting  a  hearing  I '    The  theme  in  question  is  l 
Fatut  symphony,  at  the  first  hearing  of  whicl 
sammlung  at  Weimar,  Aug.  6-8,  1861)  Wagner 
ously :  *  Many  beautiful  and  delightful  things  U 
bat  this  music  is  divinely  beautiful !  * " 

On  May  22,  1883,  Liszt  completed  at  ^ 
position  for  string  quartet  and  harp  (ad  li 
or  piano.     The  manuscript  is  prefaced  by 

'*At  Richard  Wagneb^s  Gray 

**  Richard  Wagner  once  reminded  me  of  the  res 
his  Parsifal  motives  and  an  earlier  composition  c 
(Introduction,  The  Bells  of  the  Strasburg  Cathet 

**  May  these  reminiscences  be  fixed  herewith, 
grand  and  noble  in  the  art  of  our  time. 


1  That  Wagner's  admiration  for  Liszt's  cot«^- 
ished  by  the  lapse  of  years,  is  fih^- 
his  defence  in  one  r^*^' 


BOW  WAQNXB  COMPOSED 


HOW   WAQHEB  COMPOBBD 

After  Liszt  liad  departed  from  Zlirich,  leaviiig  many 
pleasant  memories  of  hia  third  visit,  Winner  returned  to 
his  work  on  the  Nibelung's  Ring.  The  first  two  dramas 
were  entirely  completed;  the  third,  Siegfried,  was  now 
to  receive  its  musical  setting.  Not  that  the  mosical  work 
remained  to  be  done  ab  initio:  the  poem  was  entirely 
completed,  and  that  meant,  with  Wagner,  that  the  prin- 
cipal musical  themes,  and  many  of  the  details,  were 
already  worked  out  in  bis  brain.  This  was  his  method 
of  working  from  the  earliest  period,  as  ^e  see  from  a 
most  interesting  document  in  the  shape  of  a  letter  to  a 
Berlin  friend,  the  poet  and  bookseller,  Carl  Gaillard, 
bearing  the  date  of  Jan.  30, 1844,  and  written,  therefore, 
during  the  time  when  the  writer  was  at  work  on  Tatm- 
h&user.  This  letter  was  puhlished  by  W,  Tappert  in  an_ 
article  on  Wagner  in  Berlin  (Bayreuther  Festbldtter), 
and  in  a  footnote,  Professor  Tappert  says  that  "  thirty- 
three  years  later  —  in  September,  1877  —  Wagner,  in 
course  of  a  long  conversation,  described  to  me  in  detail  his 
method  of  composing,  almost  exactly  as  in  this  first  letter 
to  Gaillard."  As  this  document  has,  to  my  knowledge, 
never  appeared  in  an  English  version,  I  translate  here- 
with the  pertinent  part  of  it.  After  stating  that  he  did 
not  pride  himself  much  on  his  poetic  work  (a  point  on 
which  he  changed  his  mind  in  later  years — and  with 

the  Dante  Sfiiiphony,  Btter  repeated  heaiing,  as  Uiii  "  equal);  iDsplred 
and  mtstetfnl  creation  In  oqr  art  world."  and  of  "  Liszt's  geniiu,  ezallod 
above  time  and  space,"  aa  liaTlng  given  birth  to  an  Immortal  work, 
"  even  though  that  immortaUt;  be  not  recognized  at  pnaeut  In  Leipzig 
and  Berlin." 


~J 


(«1  A  V/  i;  AA  V     A   • 


^,    KK)  Choose  a  certain  subject,  elabo 
then  excogitate  music  suitable  to  go  with  it. 
indeed  subject  me  to  the  disadvantage  of  1 
twice  by  the  same  subject,  which  is  impossibl 
ferent  from  that :  In  the  first  place,  no  8ubje« 
such  as  present  a  musical  as  well  as  poetic 
same  time.    Then,  before  I  begin  to  make  a  i 
ject  a  scene,  I  am  already  intoxicated  by  the  i 
my  task.    I  have  all  the  tones,  all  the  chanu 
my  head,  so  that  when  the  verses  are  comple 
arranged,  the  opera  is  practically  finished  so  far  i 
and  the  detailed  execution  of  the  work  is  little 
after-labor,  which  has  been  preceded  by  the  real 
tion.    For  this  purpose,  it  is  true,  I  must  select  s 
as  are  capable  of  no  other  but  a  musical  treatmen 
choose  a  subject  which  might  as  well  have  been 
Wright  for  a  spoken  drama.     But  as  a  musicia 
subjects,  invent  situations  and  contrasts,  which  m 
outside  of  the  playwright's  domain.'* 

Numerons  passages  in  Wagner's  corresj 
witness  to  the  fact  that  this  was  always  h 
composing.  After  he  had  found  his  subje 
prose  sketch  of  the  plot,  which  was  then  p 
followed  by  a  Reinschrifty  or  clean  copy,  ^ 
rections  and  improvements  as  suggeste< 
daring  revision  (compare  Siegfried^ s  Tod  wi 
merung,  by  way  of  illustration).  A  sent( 
(to  Liszt,  May  22,  1851),  "I  am  onV  - 
pleasant  sunny  day  to  h^"' 


BOW  WAOITEB  COMPOSED  2S 

pen,  as  it  ie  already  completed  in  my  head,"  indicateB  that 
the  Terses  also  were  in  great  part  finished  before  he  put 
them  on  paper,  —  a  task  seemingly  difflcnit,  yet  obviously 
not  impossible  to  one  who  could  retain  in  his  memory 
vhole  symphonic  scores  of  Beethoven. 

How  did  musical  ideas  come  to  Wagner?  Commonly 
on  his  solitary  walks  when  his  dog  was  his  only  compan- 
ion. Then  his  pregnant  imagination  would  give  birth 
to  those  beautiful  motivee  which  hare  since  delighted  so 
many  thousands  both  by  their  musical  loveliness  and  by 
their  remarkable  &mUy  resemblance  to  the  poetic  verses 
with  which  they  were  twin-bom.  Concerning  the  mental 
process  of  parturition  Wagner  gives  this  interestii^ 
revelation  in  one  of  his  last  essays  (X.  225-226),  wbva 
he  evidently  adopts  the  theory  of  the  tenor  Vogel  (Schu- 
bert's friend),  that  musical  creation  is  a  sort  of  clair- 
voyance :  — 

"  A  dmnUlc  compOHer  of  my  '  direction '  I  Bboold  advise,  above 
ill  things,  never  to  adopt  &  text  before  be  can  see  In  it  a  plot,  and 
this  plot  acted  out  by  chancters  that  for  some  reason  or  other 
deeply  interest  him  as  a  mnddan.  Then  let  him  fix  very  carefully 
the  one  of  these  ch&ncten  with  which  he  may  be  directly  con- 
cerned to-day ;  If  It  carries  a  ma«k,  away  with  it  I  it  it  is  arrayed 
in  the  dress  of  a  coatumer's  model,  away  with  It  I  Let  him  imag- 
ine the  character  In  a  dim  li^t,  where  be  can  see  only  the  (^oe 
of  the  eyes ;  if  this  speaks  to  him,  the  character  will  perhaps  get 
into  motion — which  may  even  frighten  him,  but  which  he  must 
endme ;  at  last  its  lips  move,  the  mouth  is  opened,  and  a  voice 
from  the  spirit-world  tells  him  something  quite  real,  entirely  intel- 
ligible, but  also  so  unheard  (as,  for  Instance,  the  storLe  guest,  per- 
haps also  the  page  Cherabin,  told  It  to  Mourt)  —that  it  awaken* 
Urn  from  his  dream.  Everything  baa  vanished  ;  but  In  his  mind's 
ear  the  sounds  continue :  he  has  had  an  '  idea,'  a  so-called  musical 
•motive';  Heaven  knows  whether  others  mqrbave  beaid  It  jnst 


•  "    """at  H' 


sly  ''"'^l  t  ''■"^^■ 


^*^ioe  r  '^'•^te, 


cai 


°o«ie/ 


8 


fJfo. 


■Out 


»  b 


30): 


le 


"lie  /'*'  ^ater     *'"^'i>«  0/  ^"-^ 


^< 


<'^^tiV 


'Pect 


of 


-efOio 


«£S2'-«>:i^*'- « 


^t/i, 


* «» I  «r^**»«sfi 


Oi?  **'  W''  ^Ct"  ^^'''^.S.    ^^ 

apia 


««* i«to?*'°«  Of  J7^«d 


BOW  WAONBB  C0MP08SD  27 

simil&t  pasBa^s  oocut  in  his  letters.  But  this  does  not 
shov  that  b«  composed  "  at  the  piano  " ;  that  is,  he  did  not 
try  to  come  upon  mosical  ideas  by  improvieing.  Hia 
musical  motives  came  to  him,  as  we  have  just  seen,  on 
his  solitary  walks,  during  his  "trances,"  and  while  at 
work  on  his  poena.  The  very  idea  that  those  amazingly 
complex  orchestral  scores — which  it  ia  almost  impossible 
to  reduce  to  pianistic  terms — could  have  been  composed 
at  the  piano,  is  ridiculous :  Wagner  could  not  even  play 
tkem  on  the  piano,  and  had  to  get  his  friends  —  Liszt, 
Klindworth,  BOlow,  and  Tausig  —  to  do  it  for  him.  The 
whole  atmosphere  of  his  mind  was  orchestral,  and,  as  we 
have  seen,  he  had  a  certain  contempt  for  the  piano  and 
its  meagre  resources  of  color  and  dynamics.  Arrange- 
ments of  his  operas  for  piano  solo  (without  words)  he 
pronounced  "ridiculous,"  and  endurable  only  for  the 
publisher's  benefit.  His  feeling  about  this  matter  is 
indicated  in  this  remark  to  Uhlig:  "The  very  idea  of  a 
pianoforte  score  was  so  painful  to  me,  that  when  it 
arrived,  I  felt  hardly  anything  but  distress  and  discon- 
tent; and  it  needed  all  the  assurance  of  Baumgartner 
and  MCIller,  that  the  arrangement  was  an  excellent  one,  to 
make  me  fair  in  this  matter  towards  you  and  your  care- 
ful work." 

What  use,  then,  did  he  make  of  the  piano  in  compos- 
ing? The  correct  answer  to  this  question  is  given  in  the 
following  remarks  by  Praeger,  who,  during  a  visit  to 
ZOrich  in  1856,  had  an  opportunity  to  see  tiie  composer 
at  work  on  Siesfried:  "He  did  not  seek  his  ideas  at  the 
piano.  He  went  to  the  piano  with  his  idea  already  com- 
posed, and  made  the  piano  his  sketch-book,  wherein  he 
worked  and  reworked  his  subject,  steadily  modelling  and 


,,-.v  1  usecl  the  piano  as 
10  mould  his  theiiies  into  varioui 
that  was   all:  the   delicate  lace-^ 
score  was  all  pure  mental  work  wh 
ulation  at  the  piano  could  assist. 
ishing  work  that  the  most  peculia 
is  revealed.     Wise  critics  have  as^ 
operas  are  inferior  as  works  of  art  U 
because  they  lose  so  much  of  their  be 
for  the  pianoforte.     We  ignorant  f 
continue  to  believe  that  herein  lies 
striking  points  of  superiority.     For  ^ 
employing  two  hundred  players,  sol 
singers  for  an  opera,  when  you  can  gt 
marrow  on  the  piano?    You  might  as 
because  he  made  pictures  which  are  so 
esting  in  a  print  or  a  photograph.     A 
genius  lay  in  producing  with  colors 
print  or  photograph  can  possibly  rep 
thought  out  his  operas   in  orchestral  < 
ideas  are  often  conceived  in  colors  and  ii 
binations  which  the  piano  can  no  more 
could  have  suggested  them  to  the  comj 
in  music  emotional  and  sensuous  ideas, 
lectual  'Hhemes,"  and  in  an  opera  the 
as  important  as  the  latter.     The  magic 
the  NibeLung*8  Ring  would  loo^-  ^ 
in  ft.  diffftrftnf.  '^-'' 


BOW  WAGSSB  COMPOSED  29 

but  that  is  not  a  fault  of  the  composer;  it  is  a  mark  of 
his  superlative  genius. 

After  he  had  his  musical  motives  satis&ctorily  arranged 
in  his  head,  how  did  he  proceed  to  put  them  on  paper? 
First  he  made  a  sort  of  skeleton  sketch,  —  as  painters 
make  preliminaiy  sketches, — the  ideas  being  roughly 
jotted  down  on  a  few  lines  of  music  paper;  and  from 
these  the  orchestral  score  was  subsequently  elaborated. 
In  the  details  of  this  method,  slight  changes  were  made 
from  time  to  time.  Thus  in  a  letter  to  Fischer,  speaking 
of  the  composition  of  Rheingold,  he  makes  a  remark  which 
shows  how  utterly  absurd  is  the  notion  that  Wagner  com- 
posed at  the  piano:  "At  this  time  I  was  adopting  a 
new  method  with  the  instrumentation,  whereby  I  did  not 
first  make  a  completely  developed  preliminary  sketch. 
I  felt  the  want  of  an  arrangement  from  which  I  could 
play  to  any  one.  I  therefore  a^ked  my  friend  to  go  on 
with  the  pianoforte  version,  while  I  waa  still  writing  the 
score,  and  so  I  sent  him  the  detailed  sections  as  soon  as 
they  were  finished."  Concerning  this  new  method  of 
instrumentation,  several  more  interesting  hints  are  given 
in  letters  to  Liszt.  One  of  the  most  significant  is  the 
following :  — 

••I  am  DOW  composing  my  Rhrtngold  at  once  In. score,  with  the 
instruDieDtatlon  ;  I  could  not  &nd  n  waj  of  mahing  a  clear  sketch 
of  the  Prelude  (the  depUis  of  the  Bhine)  ;  bo  I  resorted  to  tlie  full 
score  at  once.    This  Is  much  slower  work,  however." 

In  another  letter  he  says :  — 

"  I  am  working  with  all  my  energies.  Could  you  not  send  me 
a  man  who  wonld  be  able  to  take  m;  wild  lead-peacil  sketches  and 
male  a  cleanly  copied  score  of  them  ?  I  am  working  this  time  on 
a  plan  quite  different  from  my  former  one.    Bat  the  ot^ying  Is 


so 


LAST  TEARS  OF  SXILB 


kUltng  me  t  ItB&kea  me  lose  time  oE  which  I  might  make  r 
preclona  oae ;  and  besides,  the  constant  writing  fatigues  me  so 
mncb  that  It  makes  tae  ill  and  causes  me  to  lose  tbe  mood  for  the 
real  woA  of  oompoein^.  Without  ttuch  a  tiever  sasistant  1  am 
loM:  with  him  I  Would  iiave  tlie  u>h'il'-  [Tetr.ilugj]  completed  in 
Ino  yean.  For  Uiat  loii^-lli  <<f  tinu'  !  fuMM  intd  Uie  unm  :  should  | 
there  be  a  pause  In  mf  oa^poatllan,  W  ml(^  pot  U«  Itea  fa  l(f 
copying  out  the  aepante  puts.  8m  if  70B  can  find  ana  I  Bm 
there  Is  nobody.  Tnw,  It  aonada  taoKwbaX  tafantei  thM  I  wMtt 
tokeepasecntaiy— IiKbooubaidlybB^tiiTidf  in  land  aM 
batter  I" 

He  required,  indeed,  a  UiORmgh  mnaioiaii— tnoh  M  h> 
afterwards  found  in  his  secretarieg,  Hans  Biehtflr  aocl 
Anton  Seidl — to  make  np  a  aoore  out  of  his  jottingi  vbidt 
be  himself  describes  as  wild  sketohes  —  "eveiTthiog 
written  with  penoil  illegibly  on  single  sheets."  A  fsr 
weeks  later,  indeed,  he  conoladed  tJiat  he  would  have 
to  do  his  own  copying,  and  not  merely  for  pecuniary  rea- 
sons :  "  It  ia  altogether  too  difficult  to  copy  them  in  my 
way,  especially  as  the  sketches  often  really  are  dread- 
fully oonfused,  so  that  only  I  can  decipher  them."  So 
he  continued  his  copying  of  Mheingold  while  he  was 
composing  the  Walkiire. 

for  the  lovers  of  autographs  this  result  has  proved  a 
blessing,  for  never  were  there  such  neat-looking  orches- 
tral scores  aa  W^;ner's,  —  no  corrections  or  erasures,  — 
all  these  having  been  made  before  the  SeinMhriJl,  — so 
that  his  scores  ate  almost  as  legible  in  facsimile  litho- 
graph as  in  printed  form.  He  was  proud,  too,  of  his 
elegant  handwriting,  and  repeatedly  refers  to  it,  as  in 
these  lines  to  Liszt:  — 

"  You  need  not  get  me  a  copyist ;  Mme.  Wesendonck  has  road* 
me  a  present  of  a  gold  pen — everlasting — which  hia  made  a  calU- 


HOW  WAaSSS  COMPOBSO  81 

graphic  pedant  of  me  again.  These  acoies  will  be  m;  most  flniahed 
maBterworks  In  calligraphy  I  One  cannot  escape  one'i  fate  I 
HeTerbeer,  in  foimer  days,  admired  nothing  in  my  acoiea  more 
than  the  neat  writing :  this  tritnit«  ot  admiration  has  now  become 
a  cane  to  me ;  1  ntu«t  write  neat  scoree  u  long  aa  I  liTe  I " 

Ija3nneQ  can  have  no  conception  of  the  enormous  amount 
of  labor  involved  in  the  writing  and  revriting  of  such 
scores  as  Wagner's.  There  must  be  at  least  a  million 
notes  in  the  full  score  of  the  WaUciire,  and  each  of  these 
million  notes  has  to  be  not  only  written  and  rewritten, 
but  written  in  its  proper  place,  with  a  view  to  its  rela- 
tions to  a  score  of  other  notes;  and  the  composer,  in 
doing  this  manual  work,  must  keep  in  view  harmonic 
congruity,  avoid  incongruous  or  inappropriate  combina- 
tions of  color,  transpose  wood-wind  parts,  etc.  I  As 
Heinricb  Dom,  himself  a  composer  of  operas,  remarks, 
in  commenting  on  the  "colossal  industry  "  which  Wag- 
ner displayed  in  the  time  between  Lohengrin  and  the 
completion  of  the  Nibelvng't  Ring  :  "  No  one  who  has  not 
himself  written  scores,  can  comprehend  what  it  means 
to  achieve  such  a  task  in  comparatively  so  short  a  time; 
and  one  who  does  comprehend  it,  must  be  doubly  as- 
tounded at  this  exhausting  and  colossal  activity."  And 
this  activity  becomes  almost  incredible  when  we  reflect 
that  Wagner,  moat  of  this  time,  was  poor  in  health,  poor 
in  purse,  suffering  the  anguish  of  Prometheus  Bound,  and 
never  expecting  to  survive  a  performance  of  what  he  was 
engi^ed  on,  —  leaving  all  its  pleasures  and  proSts  to 
future  generations.  Such  is  the  nature  and  fonction  of 
supreme  genius:  a  sacrifice  of  the  individual  for  the 
benefit  of  the  species;  jost  as  the  mother  bird  feeds  her 
insatiable  young  till  she  falls  dead  from  exhaustion. 


""^Wi 


82  ulbt  tmaeb  or  exile 


THB  FUIASUBS  QV  GBBAXOrO 

What  is  it  that  urges  a  man  of  genius  thus  to  oonswimi 
himself  in  the  ardor  of  oompositiony  even  when  there  ie 
no  hope  of  reward  ezoept  through  posthnnuras  fame?  To 
this  question  Schopenhauer  has  given  the  best  answer:  — 

**Genlas  is  its  own  rewaxd:  for  a  man's  best  quslttlss  mnat 
necessarily  benefit  himself .  *He  who  is  bom  loM  a  tslenti/br  a 
talent,  finds  in  it  his  happiest  ezistehce/  says  Qoelhs.  If  we  look 
up  to  a  great  man  of  the  past,  we  do  not  say :  *  How  hiHPIT  he  is  to 
be  still  admired  by  all  of  US';  but:  *  How  h^ipy  bs  must  ha?B  been 
in  the  direct  enjoyment  of  a  mind  whose  taraoes  continue  to  deU||)ife 
mankind  for  centoiies.*  Not  fame  itself  is  of  Tslne,  but  that 
wherewith  it  is  aoqnhred ;  and  in  the  begetting  of  immortal  ohil* 
dren  lies  the  real  enjoyment.** 

With  this  view  Wagner  entirely  agrees.  "Artistic 
creation  is  delightful  activity,  not  work,"  he  wrote  (IH. 
31)  years  before  he  became  acquainted  with  Schopen- 
hauer's writings;  and  this  sentence  is  the  key  to  one 
of  his  most  characteristic  traits  —  his  complete  and 
almost  frenzied  absorption  in  his  composition.  "  I  have 
just  completed  a  new  score,"  he  writes  to  the  music- 
teacher  F.  Schmitt  (June  3,  1854) ;  *  "  if  you  only  knew 
what  working  implies  with  me  at  present!  It  is  a  fanat- 
icism which  permits  me  to  recognize  or  notice  nothing 
else  right  or  left."  From  the  beginning,  his  subjects 
"tormented  "  him  (his  own  word)  till  he  had  shaped  them 
satisfactorily ;  and  we  have  seen  how  the  story  of  Lohen- 
grin took  such  hold  of  his  feelings  that  he  wept  when  he 
realized  that  the  knight  must  leave  Elsa.     His  "fanati- 

1  Oesterlein'8  Wagner  Katalog,  III.  15. 


TBX  PLXABUBM  OF  CBXATISO  88 

ciam  "  for  his  vork  became  more  abeorbii^  the  ceaier  be 
approached  the  end  —  after  completing  TbnnAduaer  he 
felt  as  if  he  had  escaped  "  a  deadly  peril " ;  and  "  when  I 
have  finished  such  a  work  as  the  Walktire,"  he  wrote  to 
Uhlig,— 

"  I  always  leel  u  if  I  had  sweated  lome  fnrfnl  anxietf  oat  of 
my  bodjr  —  an  anxiety  that  oonatantly  iDcreaaea  u  the  work  !■ 
dnwlDK  to  a  close ;  a  kind  of  fear  leat  I  might  spoil  something.  I 
write  my  sigDstnre,  with  the  date  underneath,  In  aa  much  haste  aa 
11  the  devil  mm  atandlng  behind  me,  and  wished  to  prevent  ma 
£rom  finishing." 

The  source  of  this  fanaticism  for  work  is,  of  conrs^ 
the  delight  of  begetting  immortal  children.  "More  and 
more  I  am  becomii^  convinced, "  he  writes  to  Lisz^  "  that 
men  of  our  type  most  really  be  always  unwell  except  in 
the  moments,  hoars,  and  days  of  creative  excitement;  but 
then,  it  most  be  admitted,  we  enjoy  and  revel  more  than 
all  other  men."  In  another  letter  he  declares  that  his 
life  is  endurable  only  in  work:  "rest  is  death  to  me." 
And  ^ain :  — 

"  If  I  had  to  get  up  tome  morning  without  being  allowed  to  con- 
Unne  my  moalc,!  should  be  unhappy."  "Work  is  the  only  pleaa- 
ore  remaining  to  me ;  for  that  reason  1  woik  too  much."  >■  Talk- 
ing, letter-writing,  business  complications  —  these  are  my  life-foes ; 
undisturbed,  peaceful  creation  and  work  are,  on  the  contrary,  my 
life's  preserveis."  "  So  long  aa  I  work  I  can  deceive  myself,  bat 
aa  aoon  aa  I  give  myself  np  to  recreation  I  can  no  longer  deceive 
myself,  and  then  my  wretchednees  la  simply  terrible." 

With  all  his  delight  in  creative  activity,  he  understood 
the  truth  which  Moore  has  expressed  in  this  question: 
"  Whem  did  ever  a  sublime  thought  spring  up  in  the  sonl, 
that  melancholy  was  not  to  be  found,  however  latent,  in 


LAST  rK£as«r  J 


Tuiw  to  Zor:  h,  w«  w«n  sUigadi  to  pnt  amr  i 

iiic^n^:.!!!;  -  eats  pne«du«  hM  tUiA  Tint:  «• 
ttiervfi^K  r-:nM«  our  atofa^  uidt  brMf  titinii 

the^tcBtsuf  :hefearlS56.    iBjuumrheagUD 

to  cbe  i>ru>^t  >af  wUck  be  bid  spoken  to  Liait  whea 

waa  at  *c.rk.  on  HAn'Bpo/fn  of  j^viinn^-  i  kvprist-  Ha 
fouri'i  \\iaX.  he  oo-^Id  ^-ive  e:;;i''.i\v:u5'u;  lo  oue  for  three 
years;  ij.;:  thut  wo-^'.d  ivst  eight  hun.lrv>i  fmii'sayear; 
un'i  su-h  a  sum  he  eouM  not.  of  vourre.  ileiluot  from  his 
w-arit  itii-ome.  Could  LUzt  helji  liir.i?  Liszt  did  send  a 
thfjii-uii.!  fran'-s.  !jut  was  unable  to  [irv'tnise  an  annual 
atijKTi.l  iu'h  as  his  friend  needeii.  He  himself  was  poor, 
his  iijcome  small,  his  L-ompositious  uupr^^tiiable,  and  his 
efTorts  fj  interest  princes  and  others  tiuaneially  in  VVag- 
ntr's  liehalf  were  not  successful.  In  return  for  Liszt's 
generous  contribution,  Wagner  prouiiseii  to  devote  the 
sum  U>  the  expenses  of  copying  the  yibelung'a  Rtitg  and 
to  fj!a<;e  the  eopiea  afterwards  at  Liszt's  disposal  as  his 
I>ers<irial  property. 

Ill  «iiriiig,  the  desire  to  return  to  Germany  awoke  in 


TWO  ACTS  OF  8IEGFBISD  S5 

him  more  ardently  tlum  ever.  He  resolved  to  write  to 
the  KiDg  of  Saxoay,  confessing  his  revolutionary  rash- 
ness, and  promising  humbly  never  t^ain  to  have  anything 
to  do  with  politics.  What  he  asked  for  was  not  permis- 
sion to  reside  again  in  Germany,  —  for  he  knew  that 
Switzerland  vas  a  more  favorable  place  for  composition, 
—  but  only  the  privilege  of  attending  here  and  there  a 
first  performance  of  one  of  his  operas,  to  see  that  they 
were  not  maltreated.  To  avoid  any  "demonstrations," 
he  would  be  quit«  willing  to  remain  only  during  the 
rehearsals,  always  leaving  the  ci^  before  the  first  per- 
formance. But  all  his  plans  came  to  nought,  as  usual. 
Even  Liszt,  who  wBa  continually  hobnobbing  with  all  the 
princes  in  Germany,  could  not  do  anything  for  him — 
and  could  not  even  make  it  possible  for  him  to  come  to 
Weimar,  or  Karlsruhe,  where  the  sovereigns  were  per- 
sonally well-disposed,  but  did  not  wish  to  offend  the 
Saxon  king  by  harboring  a  fugitive  from  his  courts. 

In  midsummer,  as  was  his  wont,  when  his  means  per- 
mitted, Wagner  went  higher  up  into  the  Alps.  The  $200 
Liszt  had  sent  proved  too  much  of  a  temptation  to  be 
resisted.  The  Nibelung  copies  could  wait :  nobody  seemed 
very  eager  to  have  them,  anyway;  besides,  he  had  just 
recovered  from  the  twelfth  attack  of  erysipelas  in  one 
year,  and  his  health  was  now  the  most  important  con- 
sideration. So  he  packed  his  bundle  and  went  to  Geneva. 
Not  far  from  that  city,  half-way  up  Mont  Salfeve,  he  dis- 
covered a  pension  which  suited  him  perfectly.  From  the 
balcony  "a  divine  view  of  the  whole  Mont  Blajic  chain," 
behind  the  house  a  garden,  and  in  this  a  secluded,  quiet 
garden-house,  which  he  managed  to  secure  for  himself, 
no  one  being  admitted  but  the  servant  and  the  successor 


86  LAST  YEARS  OF  EXILE 

of  Peps,  the  new  dog,  Fips.  There  was  only  one  condi- 
tion attaching  to  hia  occupancy  of  this  cottage:  every 
Sunday  morning,  from  nine  to  twelve,  he  had  to  vacate 
it  for  the  services  which  a  Protestant  clergyman  from 
Geneva  oaine  to  conduct.  "For  religion's  sake,"  he 
playfully  JuUla,  he  was  willing  to  make  this  concession: 
perhaps  some  of  his  sins  would  be  forgiven  him  for  this 
sacrifice  I 

Here  he  studied  Liszt's  new  compositions,  finding  them, 
like  the  mountain  air,  a  tonic  which  braced  him  up  for 
the  beginniub'  of  the  SiegfrUd  music.  Here  also  he  found 
what  was  becoming  more  and  more  a  necessity  of  his  life 
—  ibsolute  seclusion  and  solitude.  He  did  not  care  for 
the  personal  homage  of  the  multitude;  what  he  wanted 
the  people  to  devote  themselves  to  was  his  operas,  not 
hia  person.  The  unbidden  visitors  who  constantly  molest 
men  of  fame  were  a  Lorror  to  him :  — 

"  What  one  of  our  class  sacrifices  in  hia  intt^rcourse  with  all 
sorts  of  persons,  utter  strangers,  what  annoyances  and  tortures 
attend  it,  no  one  else  can  have  any  conception  of ;  these  tortures 
are  the  greater  because  no  other  class  of  persons  understands  tbem, 
and  because  men  who  are  our  very  antipodes  believe  that  we  are 
really  like  themselves,  for  they  luiderstand  just  as  much  in  us  as 
we  have  in  common  with  them,  and  do  not  know  how  little,  how 
very  little,  that  is.  I  repeat,  the  tortures  of  intercourse  now  annoy 
me  more  than  any  others  ;  I  make  the  most  subtle  arran^ments 
to  secure  isolation,  compel  myself  to  be  alone,  and  take  pains  to 
attain  my  object." 

The  taste  of  a  quiet,  secluded  life  amidst  beautiful 
surroundings,  which  he  got  in  this  garden-house  on  Mont 
Sal&ve,  revived  in  liim  the  eager  desire,  which  he  had 
harbored  for  several  years,  of  having  such  a  place,  which 


TWO  ACTS  OF  SIEGFRIED  87 

be  could  call  his  own,  sjid  in  which  he  would  be  secure 
from  all  noise, — especially  "  the  aecuised  piano-banging  " 
to  which  he  was  everywhere  exposed,  and  which  often 
made  him  so  nerrons  that  all  thought  of  writing  was 
banished  from  his  mind. 

"Why,"  he  exeUlms  in  %  letter,  "why  ehonld  I,  poor  devil, 
burden  and  tonoie  rayseU  with  Buch  terrible  tMlu,  if  the  prcMnt 
generation  refoMi  to  lot  tne  have  even  a  workshop  ?  I  have  told 
the  HSrtela  that  U  tl)ey  canuot  help  me  to  an  isolated  houae  on  a 
hill,  anch  as  I  need,  I  shall  let  the  whole  mbblah  go." 

To  secure  the  means  of  buying  a  plaoe  such  as  he 
wanted,  he  had  offered  his  Nibelung  scores,  as  &r  as 
completed,  to  H&rtel,  who  declared  his  willingness  to  do 
something  extra  in  order  to  secure  them.  In  course  of 
the  negotiations  the  composer  appears  to  have  lost  his 
patience,  and  shown  his  temper,  for  Liszt  urges  him  to 
write  a  "  somewhat  polite  note  "  to  H&rtel,  who  seemed 
offended:  it  was  wise  to  be  diplomatic,  for  publishers 
who  could  invest  the  preliminary  ten  thousand  thalers 
these  scores  would  call  for,  were  not  numerous.  Inas- 
much as  the  musical "  experts  "  denied  the  very  possibili^ 
of  a  performance  of  these  IlTibelung  dramas,  HSrtel  can 
hardly  be  blamed  for  going  slowly  in  this  matter;  nor, 
on  the  other  hand,  can  we  fail  to  sympathize  with  Wag- 
ner for  lamenting  the  necessity  of  offering  his  scores  at 
that  stage  to  the  only  bidder,  when,  if  he  could  have  been 
able  to  wait,  he  might  have  realized  so  much  more  on 
them.  He,  at  any  rate,  knew  that  these  scores  were  like 
a  real  estate  investment  in  a  growing  Western  city,  bound 
to  bear  interest  a  thousand-fold. 

In  the  meantime  Liszt  had  paid  his  third  risit.    After 


LAST  rsABS  OF  EXILE 


his  departure  Siegjried  was  taken  up  in  earnest. 
Dec.  6,  1856,  the  oompoaer  writes;  — 

"  In  these  days  I  am  oompleling  the  first  acene.  Strange,  thM 
not  till  I  begin  to  compose  does  tbe  inner  significance  of  m;  poem 
reveal  itself  to  me :  everywhere  I  discover  secrets  which  had  until 
then  remained  hidden  even  to  mysell." 

But  the  soore,  for  various  reasons,  grew  slowly.  On 
Jan.  17  he  completed  the  sketch  of  the  first  act,  and 
then  for  ten  diiya  all  activity  was  suspended  on  aecount 
of  a  peraisteiit  headache;  the  usual  "fanatic"  interest 
in  his  task,  kid  once  more  caused  him  to  work  too  hard; 
every  morning  he  sat  down,  stared  at  his  paper  a  while, 
and  finally  concluded  that  a  novel  by  Scott  was  about 
much  of  an  effort  as  he  was  equal  to.  He  compares  bifl 
nervous  systcDi  to  a  piano  out  of  tune;  money 
troubled  him,  as  usual;  he  intended  to  complete 
instrumentation  of  the  first  act  at  once;  but  the  noisf 
his  house  —  musical  and  unmusical  —  were  so  great  that 
he  had  to  give  up  all  thought  of  composing. 

In  this  emergency  there  appeared  opportunely  a  friend 
whom  he  characterizes  as  one  of  his  greatest  benefactors. 
A  wealthy  merchant  named  Wesendonck,  whose  wife  was 
a  great  admirer  of  Wagner,  built  a  villa  on  an  eminence 
overlooking  the  lake  of  Ztirich  which  he  furnished  in  the 
most  luxurious  manner.  Neat  it  was  a  cottage  which  he 
rented,  for  a  small  sum,  to  the  composer,  who  took  pos- 
session of  it  in  the  last  week  of  April,  1857.  His  wife 
being  ill,  he  had  to  attend  to  all  the  details  of  moving 
himself.  Here,  at  last,  he  was  in  a  position  to  continue 
his  beloved  Siegfried,  amid  the  inspiring  surroundings  of 
good  friends,  fine  scenery,  bracing  air,  and  domestic  com- 
fort, which  he  had  always  longed  for;  — 


TWO  ACTS  OF  BIXQFBISD  89 

"  ISj  stndy  b»B  been  unmged  with  the  ped&ntr;  And  eleg&ut 
eonifOTt  known  to  you-  Mf  wiiUng-table  stands  &t  the  \a,ige  wis- 
dow,  with  a  splendid  view  ot  the  lake  uid  the  Alps ;  rest  and  quiet 
sniToimd  m«.  A  pretty  and  well-stocked  gaiden  offers  little  walki 
and  Testing-placea  to  me,  and  will  enable  my  wife  to  occapy  her- 
self pleasantly,  and  to  keep  herself  free  from  troubling  thooghls 
about  me  ;  in  particular,  a  large  kitchen  garden  claims  her  tendei^ 
eat  care.  So  yon  see  what  a  very  pretty  plaoe  I  have  f onnd  for  my 
retirement." 

Siegfried,  there  ia  good  reason  to  believe,  was  Wag- 
ner's favorite  muBic-drama.  He  certainly  enjoyed  com- 
posing it  immensely  —  more,  perhaps,  than  any  of  the 
other  dramas.  As  early  as  1852  he  spoke  of  the  delight- 
ful time  he  expected  to  have  in  writing  its  musio.  Two 
years  later  he  wrote:  "For  the  sake  of  my  life's  most 
beautiful  dream,  the  Toung  Siegfried,  I  feel  that  I  must 
complete  the  Nibelung  dramas;  the  Walklire  has  ex- 
hausted me  so  much  that  I  must  permit  myself  this 
recreation."  It  was  for  the  composition  of  Siegfried  that 
he  had  originally  chosen  the  Seelisberg,  which  he  de- 
scribed as  the  most  delightful  spot  he  had  discavered  in 
Switzerland.  That  plan  came  to  naught,  thanks  to  the 
London  Philharmonic  interruption;  but  at  last  fortune 
smiled  on  him  —  foramoment:  he  had  an  ideal  work- 
shop, and  bis  favorite  Siegfried  was  to  get  the  benefit  of 
the  happy  creative  mood  which  this  would  ensure.  There 
is  more  in  this  than  the  reader  perhaps  fancies.  The 
second  act  of  Siegfried,  which  was  written  here,  contains 
(without  even  excepting  the  last  act  of  the  Meiater singer), 
the  most  genial,  serene,  cheerful  music  Wagner  ever 
wrote,  — music  which  appeals  even  to  those  who  dislike 
his  other  dramas  because  of  their  concatenated  discords 
and  heart-rending  au^ish.     Doubtless  he  would  have 


40 


LAST  TEABB  OF  EXILE 


given  U3  more  such  happy  music  had  fate  more  frequently 
smUed  on  him  as  it  did  during  the  days  he  spent  ia 
Wesendonck's  cottage,  where,  besides  the  advantages 
above  enumerated,  he  enjoyed  also  the  creative  stimulus 
which  a  man  of  genius  finds  in  the  sympathetic  appreci- 
ation of  a  refined,  intelligent  woman.  Newspaper  gossip 
pursued  him  even  here,  but  it  can  be  stated  on  the  very 
best  authority  tliat  this  slanderous  gossip  was  as  men- 
dacious as  it  was  malicious. 

Of  course  it  would  be  absurd  to  attribute  the  fact  that 
Siegfried  is  ^\'agne^'3  most  inspired  and  spontaneous 
music-dtama  entirely  to  the  happy  circumstances  amid 
which  it  was  written;  those  account  for  its  sunny  atmos- 
phere, but  the  real  source  of  musical  inspiration  was  tha 
poera,  which  is  his  masterpiece,  in  every  respect — a 
production  which  neither  Schiller,  nor  Goethe,  nor  even 
Shakespeare  could  have  surpassed  in  structure,  diction, 
spirit,  and  feeling.  Hence  it  is  that  the  first  act,  too, 
which  was  written  amid  less  favorable  surroundings,  is 
pervaded  by  such  a  remarkable  buoyancy  and  siwntaneity 
of  musical  utterance.  And  Wagner  knew,  better  than 
any  one  else,  what  he  had  accomplished.  "So  far,"  he 
writes  soon  after  his  arrival  at  Wesendonck's, — 

"I  have  composed  odI;  ttie  first  act;  but  that  is  entirely  fln- 
Isbed,  more  beautiful  and  successful  than  anything  that  came  be- 
fore it.  I  waa  astonished  mystAS  at  b^ing  able  to  do  such  a  thing ; 
for  since  our  last  meeting  I  have  again  seemed  to  myself  a  dreadful 
bungler,  .  .  .  But  now  all  is  clear  to  me,  and  when  you  come  to 
hear  the  forging  and  saiith;  songs,  you  shall  learn  something  new 
from  me." 

He  adds  that  in  order  to  accomplish  such  a  task,  he 
needs  "absolute  concentration;  all  diversion  is  death  to 


WBT  TBI8TAS  INTMBBUPTXD  BIJtOFBIXD     41 

And  now  ve  come  to  one  of  the  most  important  episodes 
in  his  life.  Most  of  the  second  aot  of  Sitsfried  was 
written  in  1867 ;  the  leat  of  it,  with  the  last  act,  was  not 
completed  till  1869  — twelve  years  later — after  TriaUm 
and  Di4  MeiaUTMnger  had  been  composed  and  performed. 
What  was  the  cause  of  this  long  interruption? 

WHY  TBISTAN  IHTEBBUFTED  8IBGI-BIED 

In  the  last  days  of  Jose,  1857,  Liszt  received  a  letter 
containing  this  startling  news :  — 

'<  I  ahkll  bM,n  no  further  tronble  wltb  the  Elitels,  m  I  have  de- 
termined flnallr  to  give  np  my  hwdotrong  dndgn  of  oompletlng  the 
VlbeluDgen.  I  have  led  my  young  Siegfried  into  a  beantifnl  foreet 
•olitade,  and  there  have  left  him  under  i  linden  tree,  and  taken 
laave  of  him  irith  heartfelt  t«are.  He  will  be  better  off  then  than 
elsewhere.  If  I  were  ever  to  remune  the  work,  some  one  wonld 
have  to  make  It  very  eaay  for  me,  or  elw  I  ehonld  have  to  b«  Id  a 
poeltlon  to  present  it  to  the  world  as  a  ffift,  in  the  full  tense  of  the 

The  causes  which  led  to  this  abandonment  of  his  gigan- 
tic undertaking  were  several.  Eight  years  had  elapsed 
since  he  had  had  an  opportunity  to  enjoy  the  stimulus  to 
activity  that  would  have  been  given  him  by  the  chance 
to  hear  a  good  representation  of  one  of  his  operas.  At 
the  same  time  the  wretched  performances  of  his  early 
operas  which  were  then  being  given  in  German  cities 
deprived  him  of  all  desire  to  write  any  more  operas  to 
be  thus  maltreated.  The  disgust  which  he  felt  with  this 
state  of  affairs  was  one  of  the  motives  which  propped 
him  up  when  he  undertook  the  seemingly  impracticable 
Nibelnng  project:    its   very  impracticability  tempted 


42  LAST  TBAS8  OF  BXJtS 

him;  for,  while  engaged  on  this  task,  he  would  feel 
free  from  all  temptation  to  have  in  mind,  and  make  oon- 
cessions  to,  the  theatres  and  artists  of  the  period.  Such  a 
work  [L3  hia  Tetralogy  could  only  be  given  under  extraor^ 
dinary  circumstances,  at  a  special  festival,  under  hia 
own  supervision.  This  was  the  answer  which  he  had 
in  readiness  for  his  friends,  when  they  expreseed  sur- 
prise that  a  composer  who  had  shown  so  much  practical 
sense  and  insight  as  he,  should  engage  in  such  a  chimeri- 
cal undertaking. 

The  very  conception  of  such  a  plan  was  a  heroic  per- 
formance ;  the  complete  and  uninterrupted  eseoutioo  of 
it  would  have  been  a  miraele.  A  time  came  7hen  even 
his  courage  weakened:  — 

■'  When  I  laid  aside  one  completed  soore  after  another,  notto 
look  at  it  ag-.iin,  I  Geemed  f)  mjaeU  occaaloDallj  like  a  somnamlnlr 
liBt,  nho  his  no  consciausneas  of  hia  doings.  Yea,  If  I  then  looked 
up  from  these  scores  into  tbe  bright  dayligbt  about  me,  this  terrible 
day  of  ourGermaji  opera,  with  itaconductora,  tenora,  aongBtressea, 
and  repertoire  difficultiea,  I  waa  obliged  to  laugh  aloud,  and  think 
of  the  > stuff  and  nonsense'  to  which  I  was  devoting  myself" 
(VI.  378). 

Even  thus,  however,  things  might  have  gone  on  with- 
out interruption  had  not  money  matters  interfered.  He 
must  have  something  to  live  on.  In  a  moment  of  em- 
barrassment he  had  even  sold  the  performing  right  to 
TannhiHistr  to  the  manager  of  a  suburban  theatre  in 
Vienna  —  the  Royal  Opera  having  not  yet  deigned  to 
bring  out  any  of  his  works.  His  attempt  to  make  satis- 
factory arrangements  with  the  Hartels  regarding  the 
publication  of  the  Nibelung  scores  came  to  naught 
(although  he  would  have  been  satisfied  with  $750  for 


WBT  TBIBTAS  ISTSBBUPTSD  SIXOFBISD     48 

each  score;  to-day  (20,000  would  not  buy  one  of  these 
scores),  and  it  was  on  this  money  that  he  had  lelied 
chiefly  for  his  income  during  the  time  when  the  last 
two  of  his  four  dramas  were  to  be  composed.  Some- 
thing, it  ia  clear,  had  to  be  done.  What  that  was  to 
be,  he  did  not  quite  know  himself;  when  suddenly  the 
scales  were  turned,  as  it  seems,  by  an  extraordinary  mes- 
sf^e  from  South  America.  In  May,  1857,  he  received 
from  a  represeotative  of  the  Emperor  of  Brazil  an  offer 
to  write  an  opera  specially  for  the  Italian  company  at 
Bio  de  Janeiro.  The  composer  himself  was  to  conduct 
the  performances,  and  all  the  means  and  resources 
necessaiy  for  a  brilliant  success  were  to  be  placed  at  his 
disposal.  Of  the  sincerity  of  this  offer  there  can  be  no 
doabt,  for  we  know  that  Dom  Pedro  always  took  an  in- 
terest in  Wagner  and  was  one  of  the  patrons  and  visitors 
at  the  first  Bayreuth  festival.  Wagner  was  at  first 
staggered  by  the  Brazilian  proposal,  and  he  actually 
appears  to  have  for  a  moment  considered  it  feasible. 
But  after  reflecting  on  the  impossibility  of  entrusting 
such  operas  as  he  was  then  writing  to  Italian  singers, 
he  laughed  at  his  momentary  acquiescence.  Neverthe- 
less, this  afFair  seems  to  have  brought  to  a  crisis  a  plan 
which  had  been  in  his  mind  indistinctly  for  some  time, 
and  which  was  nothing  leas  than  the  interruption  of 
his  N&tetung'a  Ring  in  order  to  write  a  single  opera  which 
might  be  produced  at  once  at  the  ordinary  theatres  and 
help  to  fill  his  depleted  purse. 

This  opera  was  TVuton  and  Itoide,  the  plan  of  which 
he  had  conceived  several  years  before.  First  mention 
of  it  is  made  in  an  undated  letter  to  Liszt  (written  in 
the  laat  months  of  1854)  in  these  words:  — 


44  LAST  YEARS  OF  EXILE 

"  As  1  havp  never  in  mj  life  enjoyed  Uie  true  felicity  of  1ot«,  I 
will  erect  to  tliis  most  beaniiful  o£  my  dreams  IStegfried)  a  monu- 
ment in  nhich,  from  be^ning  to  end,  thia  love  shall  hare  tlie 
[ulleat  gratiflcniion  ;  I  have  sketched  in  my  head  a  Tristan  and 
Itolde,  the  simplest  of  miuical  conceptions,  but  full-blooded  ;  with 
the  '  black  flag  '  which  waves  at  the  end  I  shall  then  cover  myseU 

This  plan  he  now  (June,  18S7)  determined  to  cany'H 
ont.     Ill  :i  yn^tr  the  poem  and  music  could  be  written^  J 
ami  then,  :ls  no  German  city  was  open  to  him,  he  wonI4! 
produce  it  at  tlie  Strassburg  theatre  with  Niemann  a 
an  orchestra  fnim  KarlBnihe,  or  some  other  opera-houee.'! 
Furthermore,  he  intended  to  have  this  opera  translated 
into  Italiun,  dedicate  the  score  to  the  Emperor  of  Brazil, 
and  allow  liia  compajiy  to  give  the  first  performance  of 
it  at  Rio  de  Janeiro,  where,  probably,  T'annMumr  would 
precede    it.      The    information    oonoludes  wltb   these 
words :  — 

"  Thla  time  I  have  had  to  do  violence  to  my  feelings ;  in  the 
midst  of  the  moat  favorable  mood  I  have  torn  Siegfried  from  my 
heart  and  put  him  under  lock  and  key  like  one  buried  alive.  There 
1  shall  keep  him,  and  no  one  shall  get  sight  of  him,  since  I  have  to 
lock  him  up  even  from  myBcK.  Well,  perhaps  the  sleep  will  do 
him  good  ;  but  as  to  the  awakening,  1  can  guarantee  nothing.  It 
cost  rne  a  hard,  bitter  fight  before  I  got  so  far.  Now  let  that  also 
bel" 

He  diwB  t.l.H  jctUT  with  an  injunction,  doubly  under- 
lined, t/i  yti-K^fii:  aliHolute  silence  regarding  the  Tristan 
project. 

Wagiit;r  wiiM  tn)t  the  only  one  who  wept  because  he  had 
to  give  u[i  Sii-'jfried.  Liszt  also  shed  tears  over  the 
abandonmentj  yet  he  cordially  approved  of  the  Tristan 
subject :  — 


PABia,  TAVaiO,  AND  MUfNA  46 

"Beyond  a  doulit  joa  will  make  «  gloilotu  voik  of  it— and 
will  then  retam  to  yoar  yibelwtgtn  wiUk  fresh  energies.  To  Stnw»- 
burg  we  atull  all  go  and  form  a  garde  d'honneur  tor  jon."  One 
thing,  however,  staggered  Liszt:  "How,  in  the  name  of  all  Ute 
gods,  are  you  going  to  make  of  it  an  opera  for  RaUati  >fnfieri  (as 
B.  tells  me  you  are)?  Well,  since  tlie  incredible  and  Impossible 
hsTe  become  your  element,  perh^M  yon  will  achieve  this  too." 

But,  as  we  liaye  seen,  the  absurdity  of  snob  an  idea  bad 
become  evident  to  W^ner  bimself  as  soon  as  tbe  first 
flush  of  enthagiaBm,  during  whicb  everything  was  wont 
to  seem  possible  to  bis  sanguine  nature,  bad  passed 
away. 

PABIS,  TAUSIO,  AUD  HINIf A 

"So  tnacb  is  clear  to  me:  I  must  this  time  aooomplisb 
a  miraele  in  order  to  make  tbe  world  believe  in  me." 
With  this  sentiment  Wagner  set  to  Torh  on  Trittan  and 
Itolde.  On  the  last  day  of  the  year  1857  tbe  first  act 
was  completed.  Business  matters  now  called  bim  to 
Paris ;  steps  had  to  be  taken  to  preserve  the  copyrights 
of  his  operas  for  Prance.  In  a  small  room  on  the  third 
story  of  the  Hotel  du  Louvre  (No.  364),  facing  the  yard, 
be  found  a  quiet  retreat  such  as  he  needed.  Among 
bis  visitors  were  Berlioz  and  Liszt's  son-in-law,  M. 
OUivier.  Spare  moments  he  devoted  to  reading  Galde- 
ron,  for  whom  be  conceived  a  tremendous  admiration 
which  overflows  in  a  long  letter  to  Liszt  (No.  266).  In 
the  same  letter  he  remarks:  — > 

"  Besides  yon  and  Calderon,  a  glance  at  the  completed  flrtt  act 
of  Triitan  which  I  have  brought  here,  has  in  these  days  butted 
me  up  wonderfnlly.  Thla  will  become  a  remarkable  composition. 
I  feet  a  violent  impulse  to  commnnlcate  It  to  some  one,  and  fear 
that  it  will  lead  me  presently  to  play  some  of  it  to  BerUoc,  rc^ud- 


48  LAST  TEABS  OF  EXILE 

hss  whether  my  be&ntifut  pUyiug  will  arouse  hi*  conaUnimUon  or  ] 
iliBguat.    Heavens,  U  I  were  only  wilh  you  now  1 " 

It  was  as  well  that  he  did  not  play  Tristan  to  Berlicn  \ 
on  the  piauo;  for  that  composer,  as  we  shall  liear  pres-  i 
ently,  did  not  understand  that  music,  even  in  its  orohes-  j 
tral  preseutation. 

To  cover  the  expenses  of  this  trip  (one  of  the  objects  I 
of  which  was  also  to  try  to  arrange  for  a  performance  4 
of  Bienzi  at  the  Thffitre  Ljrique),  Wagner  had  been  J 
obliged  to  borrow  $200  of  Liszt,  who,  in  turn,  borrowed'] 
of  hia  aou-in-law  (poorLiflztl  his  aymphonio  poems  were  J 
even  lesa  profitable  than  his  friend's  scores)  I     Wagner,  ' 
however,  promised  to  repay  it  aa  soon  as  he  had  received  I 
his  first  advance  on  the   Tristan  score.     Necessity  had 
compelled  him  to  make  a  [leculiar  arntngement  with  hia 
Leipzig  publishers.     Breitkopf  and  HSrtel  had  refused 
to  take  th(!  Nibelung  scores  at  his  terms  because  that 
work  appeared  so  impracticable;  Tristan  seemed  more 
of  a  possibility,  so  they  not  only  accepted  it,  but  made 
their  arrangements  even  before  it  was  composed,  promis- 
ing to  pay  one-half  of  the  author's  royalty  (which  was 
to  be  $800  in  all)  on  receipt  of  the  manuscript  of  the 
first  act.     The  publishers  hoped  like  the  composer  that 
Tristan  would  prove  profitable  by  n\aking  Us  way  at 
once   to   all   the    German   opera-houses;    they  did    not 
dream  that  seven  years  would  elapse  before  its  first  per- 
formance.    But  what  more  could  have  been  expected? 
Wagner  was  only  forty-five  years  old,  and  Tannhduser 
and  Lohengrin  had  been  before  the  world  only  thirteen 
and  eight  years  respectively!    Did  not  Liszt  write  to 
him  about  this  date:  "  The  laist  time  we  performed  iofeen- 
grin  I  felt  proud  of  my  century,  for  post^essing  such  a 


PARIS,  TAVBIQ,  AND  MtSNA  47 

man  as  yon  have  sbowa  yourself!  With  Lohengrin  the 
old  operatic  world  comes  to  an  end;  the  spirit  hovers 
over  the  waters  and  there  is  light!"  Was  not  anch  a 
message  better  than  money?  Why  should  men  of 
genius  have  money,  anyway? 

Room  No.  364  at  the  Hotel  du  Louvre  was  a  quiet, 
secluded  place,  but  it  bad  one  disadvantage.  The  waiter 
was  a  lascal  who  stole  what  little  money  Wagner  had 
left,  and  then  decamped  for  Germany.  Liszt,  the  rem- 
edy for  all  evils,  was  immediately  informed  of  bis  desti- 
nation, and  the  police  put  on  bis  track;  but  whether 
this  thief  of  doubly-borrowed  money  —  the  repayment 
of  which  was  to  cost  one-quarter  of  the  earnings  ^m 
'  the  composition  of  Trittan  and  Isolde  —  was  caught  and 
deservedly  punished,  is  a  point  which  must  be  left  for 
some  future  investigator  of  the  Jena  police  records  to 
determine. 

On  hia  return  to  Zdrich,  another  surprise  awaited 
Wagner.  Liszt  sent  him  the  "wonder-fellow"  Karl 
Tausig,  the  "Liszt  of  the  future,"  as  be  was  called,  and 
whom  he  commended  to  their  common  friends,  the  poet 
Herwegh,  journalist  Wille,  architect  Semper,  physiolo- 
gist Moleschott,  etc.  Letter  260  gives  a  most  amusing 
account  of  the  "  terrible  "  young  pianist,  whose  "  &antic  " 
playing  made  his  host  "shudder."  To  keep  such  a 
fellow  in  the  house  was  impossible ;  he  had  to  do  bia 
practising  in  a  neighboring  tavern,  but  spent  all  the 
rest  of  tbe  time  in  the  house  of  the  composer,  whose 
ardent  apostle  be  was  destined  to  become.  He  drank 
tea  and  smoked  strong  cigars  incessantly;  had  no 
appetite  at  mealtime,  because  he  was  always  eating 
cheese  and  zwiebaiJc    between    meals  —  those    favorite 


48 


LAST  TEABS  OF  EXILE 


biscuits  of  which  Minna,  who  happened  to  be  away,  had 
left  a  supply  barely  sufflcieut  for  her  husband.  Karl 
detested  walking,  and  declared,  after  one  hour,  that  they 
had  been  out  four;  in  short,  Wagner  had,  for  the  first 
time,  a  taste  of  a  father's  feelings  in  taking  care  of  an 
nnrnly  bey.     Tausig  was  then  aged  seventeen. 

Minna,  all  this  time,  was  at  a  neighboring  summer 
resort  for  the  cure  of  her  heart-trouble:  "My  anxiety 
for  her  was  terrible:  for  two  months  I  was  really  pre- 
pared to  hear  of  her  death  any  day.  Her  deplorable 
condition  was  brought  about  especially  by  the  excessive 
ofle  of  opium — ostensibly  as  a  cure  for  insomnia."  She 
was  now  better,  but  her  heart-trouble  was  incurable, 
and  promised  much  future  tribulation  for  her  husband, 
who  complains  in  a  letter '  of  this  period  to  Frau  Julie 
Bitter  (his  benefactress)  about  his  wife's  nerroasneas, 
despondency,  and  violent  temper,  and  that  she  was 
"  making  a  hell "  of  the  home  to  which  he  was  so  fond 
of  confining  himself:  — 

*■  Her  coDdltlon  of  mind  became  nieh  a  torment  to  haneU  and 
ber  anmnrndingg,  tbat  a  radical  change  of  the  elbution  bad  to  be 
made,  unless  we  wete  all  willing  to  wear  onnelTea  out  niiMaton- 
ably.  .  .  .  The  state  of  ber  edncaUon,  and  ber  iDteUectoal  o^»o- 
ities,  make  it  impowible  tor  her  to  find  In  me  and  my  endowmenta, 
tbe  consolation  which  ahe  needed  ao  much  by  way  of  componsUon 
(or  the  dUagreeableneas  of  our  material  sltoation.  If  this  is  the 
sonrce  of  great  anguish  to  me,  it  oeTertheleas  make*  ma  pity  ber 
with  all  mj  heart,  and  it  is  my  moat  cordial  wish  that  I  m^  aome 
day  be  able  to  afford  her  lasting  conaolation  in  ber  own  way." 

Praeger,  in  his  reminiscences  of  his  Tisit  to  Zdricb  in 
1856,  relates  two  incidents  which  show  how  ill-mated 

iLuflhiBi,  OatcAldUt  il«r  JfMtt,  n.  US. 


PARIS,  TAVaiQ,  ASD  lOSNA  49 

Wagner  and  his  first  vife  were.  One  morning  when 
Praeger  and  Hlnna  were  waiting  for  her  husband  to 
come  down  from  his  work  on  the  Tetralt^,  she  asked, 
"Nov,  honestly,  is  Richard  snchagreat  genins?"  She 
had  evidently  not  been  able  to  make  up  her  mind  as  to 
this,  in  the  fourteen  years  that  had  elapsed  since  the 
production  of  Biensil  On  another  occasion,  when  he 
was  bitterly  animadverting  on  his  treatment  by  the 
public,  she  said,  "Well,  Richard,  why  don't  you  write 
somethii^  for  the  gallery?"  "And  yet, "Praeger adds, 
"notwithstanding  her  inaptitude,  Wagner  was  ever  ooo- 
siderate,  tender,  and  affectionate , towards  her."  She 
had  all  the  domestic  virtues  which  are  so  highly  prized 
in  Germaoy,  and  she  had,  especially,  the  economic  sens^ 
which  Wagner  lacked,  and  which  once  made  him  ex- 
claim to  Liszt  that  hereafter  he  would  place  his  financial 
affairs  entirely  in  her  hands.  But  such  qualities  could 
not  atone  for  the  lack  of  artistic  sympathy  which  her 
husband  craved,  and  which  made  him  form  a  romantic 
friendship  and  seek  the  company  of  Mrs.  Weseodonck 
more  than  was  agreeable  to  Minna,  whose  jealousy  was 
repeatedly  aroused;  to  what  a  degree  may  be  inferred 
from  what  he  wrote  to  Fraeger  one  day:  "The  devil  is 
loose.  I  shall  leave  Zflrich  at  once  and  come  to  you  in 
Paris."  But  two  days  later  he  writes  again:  "Matters 
have  been  smoothed  over,  so  that  I  am  not  compelled  to 
leave  here.  1  hope  we  shall  be  quite  free  from  annoy- 
ance in  a  short  time;  but  ach,  the  virulence,  the  cruel 
maliciousness  of  some  of  my  enemies.  .  .  ." 

There  appears  to  have  been  a  temporary  separation ; 
for  in  186d  Wagner  writes  to  Frau  Ritter  in  reference 
to  the  projected  performance  of  Trittan  at  Kailsmhe :  — 


60 


LAST  TEARS  OF  EXILE 


"This  period  I  liaye  also  choaeii  tor  a  reunion  irith  my  poor 
vife.  Ma.j  HeavEn  grant  that  I  ahall  always  fpel  able  to  carry  out 
pUIeutlf  my  firm  and  cordial  determination  ol  treating  her  in  the 
moat  conalderate  manner.  I  conress  that  my  relation  to  this  poor 
woman,  wbo  has  hod  ao  many  trialsi  and  is  now  suDering  ao  much, 
baa  alwaya  apurrad  me  on  to  preserve  and  develop  my  moral  powers. 
In  all  my  relations  to  her  I  am  guided  only  by  tbe  deepest  pity 
with  bar  conditio)),  and  1  hope  cotifidently  that  it  will  always  arm 
m«  with  the  persistent  patience  with  which  1  fe«l  called  upon  not 
only  to  endure  the  consequences  of  her  illness,  but  persoiudly  to 
allay  them." 

So  peace  was  patched  ap  for  »  fair  more  years;  but  better 
far  had  it  been  if  the^two  liad  nerer  met.  Wagner  had 
made  the  same  matrimoiual  mistake  aa  Goethe,  Heine, 
Bacine,  and  many  otiier  men  ot  genius;  and  a  poor 
voman,  kind  by  nature,  who  might  have  made  a  com- 
mon mortal  happy  and  been  happy  herself,  had  to  suffer 
a  quarter  of  a  century  for  this  mistake  of  wedding  <Hie 
with  whom  there  could  be  no  marriage  of  sonls. 


A  TXHETIAN  LOTS-D0O 

The  second  act  of  Ti-Mtan  waa  superficially  sketched 
at  Zdrich,  in  June,  1858j  but  the  orchestral  elaboration 
which,  in  the  case  of  so  richly  colored  and  intensely 
emotional  a  work  as  this,  is  of  equal  importance,  was 
made  in  a  more  romantic  spot.  The  reader  knows  that 
Wagner  shared  that  nniversal  longing  of  the  Qerman 
heart  for  Italy,  to  which  Goethe  gave  expression,  before 
he  had  been  there,  in  his  famous  song  "Kennst  da  das 
Land  wo  die  Citronen  blOhen?  "  But  the  greater  part  of 
Italy  belonged  to  the  German  Alliance,  and  was  thwe- 
fore  not  open  to  the  exiled  composer.    Venice,  however, 


A   rWSXTIAn  LOVM-DUO  61 

being  an  Aastxian  possesaioD  at  that  tim^  vaa  aeeean- 
ble  provided  the  Austrian  officiala  interposed  do  obstacle ; 
and  Venice  was  precisel;  the  citj  he  most  longed  to  lira 
in.  Its  attractions  had  been  punted  to  him  in  the 
brightest  colors  by  friends.  Being  half-way  between 
Vienna  and  Germany,  it  was  also  a  coDrenient  station 
for  transacting  operatic  business.  But  the  principal 
reason  for  his  choice  was  a  hygienic  one :  Venice,  being 
without  horses,  was  always  free  from  dost  and  ooise. 
Schopenhauer,  with  his  usual  acomen,  made  the  horror 
of  noise  a  criterion  <tf  adraacing  civilization,  and  pointed 
oat  what  tortures  especiaUy  men  of  genius,  witii  their 
senBitire  nerrons  organization,  are  subjected  to  bom 
the  brutal  indtflennce  to  noise  displayed  in  our  large 
cities  —  the  rambling  of  wagons,  cracking  of  whips,  cry- 
ing of  wares,  jingling  of  bells,  ete.  \o  man  of  genius 
ever  suffered  more  from  such  noises  than  Wagner,  who, 
whenever  he  stayed,  if  only  a  few  days,  in  a  large  city, 
always  sought  for  a  room  in  a  quiet  region,  with  a  few 
green  trees  thrown  in,  if  possible.  Trees  are  scarce  in 
Venice,  but  it  is  —  outside  of  Japan  —  the  least  noisy 
city  in  the  world,  and  this  feature  it  was,  as  he  tells  us, 
that  decided  his  choice. 

Of  course  Liszt  bad  to  be  consulted  in  the  matter: 
his  position  was  such  that  without  his  friend's  advice 
and  assistance  he  could  hardly  take  a  step  outside  of 
Switzerland,  during  the  period  of  his  exile.  Liszt  was 
asked  to  beg  of  the  Grand  I>ake  of  Weimar,  as  a  special 
favor,  intercession  with  the  Austrian  government  for 
permission  on  Wagner's  part  to  live  in  Venice  for  some 
time.  Liszt  immediately  investigated  the  matter,  and 
came  to  the  conclusion  that  Venice  was  not  an  abso- 


1 


S2  LAST  rSABS  OF  EXILE 

lately  safe  plaoe  for  him,  politically;  bo  be  advised 
Genoa  or  Sardinia  instead.  But  Wagner,  with  charac- 
teristio  fearlessness,  had  already  gone  to  Venice,  on  his 
own  responsibilify,  before  his  friend's  answer  came. 
Liszt  fancied  that  he  had  gone  to  Italy  in  the  hope  of 
producing  some  of  hia  works  there;  and  knowing  very 
well  that  there  was  little  hope  for  serious  works  of  art 
in  that  country,  where  the  chief  function  of  operatic 
composers  was  the  writing  of  strings  of  showy  arias  for 
popular  singers  to  display  their  vocal  agility,  he  frankly 
informed  him  that  he  had  M  little  to  hope  firam  Uklr  — 
or  France  —  artistioally,  m  btaa  Austria  pelMBeHy; 
"  for  several  years  to  oome  Oennuty  is  tiie  aHj  tne  toil 
for  your  works;  to  this  soilt"  he  adds  pinphntlnrily, 
"  tiiey  will  assert  their  right  more  and  more  firmly,  snd 
more  than  all  others." 

But  the  composer  of  Tmtan  had  no  other  "^rtistlo 
intentions  "  in  visiting  Venice  than  the  desire  to  finish 
that  score  amid  agreeable  and  soothing  surroundings. 
This  desire  was  at  first  gratified :  — 

'■  You  wiU  be  pleaaed  to  hear  that  Venice  hu  not  diHppofnted 
me  In  my  expectatlouH.  The  meluicbol;  silence  of  the  Ontnd 
Canal,  on  which  m;  residence  —  a  atalcl;  palace  with  large  rooms 
— is  Hituated,  ia  sympathetic  to  jne ;  eDtertalnment  and  agreeable 
dlverBlon  of  the  imaginatlOD  are  provided  bjr  mjr  daily  walks  on 
the  St.  Mark's  Place,  by  gondola  excursloaB  to  the  Islands,  prome- 
Dodes  on  the  latter,  etc.  Later  on  the  art  treasures  will  have  tbelr 
turn.  The  absolute  novelty  of  these  tntereetlng  Burrouudlngs  Is  a 
source  of  great  pleasure  to  me.  I  am  now  waiting  for  my  piano, 
and  hope  to  be  able  next  month  to  resume  my  work  without  dU- 
tnrbance.    To  complete  7Vi*la»  Is  my  object ;  I  have  no  other.  '* 

It  was  amid  such  surroundings  that  the  glorious  loTe* 
duo  which  takes  up  so  great  a  part  of  the  second  act  of 


A  rsSBTIAN  LOVS~DUO  58 

TriMm  -vaa  composed.  Of  all  cities  in  the  world 
Venice,  with  its  voluptuous  climate,  famous  works  of 
ait^  and  lovely  women,  was  the  best  place  to  provide 
the  inspiration  and  the  sensuous  Titianesque  coloring 
for  this  amorous  duo.  The  piano  arrived  in  October, 
and  was  placed  in  a  large,  resonant  hall,  where  composi- 
tion was  resumed  in  a  happy  mood :  — 

<>  My  work  !■  deuer  to  me  than  ever ;  I  took  it  np  BgiJn  the 
other  day ;  the  moalo  flows  like  a  soft  stream  from  my  mind.  .  .  . 
The  seoond  act,  of  which  I  bad  before  made  only  a  light  sketch, 
was  Interrupted  by  vlsiton.  I  have  now  reanmed  It ;  it  will  be 
veiy  beaatUul,  and  will  be  completed  and  in  print  by  the  end  of 
the  year,  at  the  latest.  In  March  the  last  act  will  follow,  and  If 
all  goes  well,  I  shall  attend  the  first  performance  by  Easter." 

Poor  deluded  maji !  Seven  years  of  bitter,  continuous 
disappointments  were  to  elapse  before  that  first  perform- 
ance. Troubles  began  to  gather  before  longi  the  furies 
of  fate  persecuted  this  unhappy  artist  wherever  he  went. 
"Such  work  as  this,"  he  had  written,  "I  can  do  only  in 
the  most  favorable  mood"j  and  thie  happy  mood  was 
not  to  last  long.  He  was  af&icted  with  a  new  phase  of 
bis  cutaneous  disease;  for  almost  two  weeks  he  could 
not  leave  his  chair;  a  sore  on  his  leg  caused  him  such 
excruciating  pain  that,  as  he  says,  with  gtim  humor, 
"during  my  occupation  with  the  music  I  occasionally 
cry  out  aloud,  which  often  produces  a  great  effect." 
Like  Job,  too,  he  had  to  sit  and  hear  the  hopeless  mes- 
sages as  they  came  in,  one  after  another.  From  Munich 
came  the  news  that  the  projected  Riemi  had  been  given 
up,  on  account  of  "  religious  objections  "  which  had  been 
urged  against  it!  Another  little  pile  of  ducats  gone  — 
a  very  serious  matter  to  "  such  a  poor  devil  as  myself. 


_^   x^it!  aiier  neanng 
It  I    Hienzi !  —  and  Wagner  was  then  at  w» 

"Worse  things  were  to  follow.     Liszt  1 
coming  helpless  to  aid  his   friend.     We 
''Bajreuthy"  had  capitulated  to  the  em 
advent  of  Dingelstedt.     A  '^  brutal  mercai 
Liszt  called  it,  took  the  place  of  the  1 
ideals;  operas,  including  Wagner's,  were 
to  make  money;  Liszt  ceased  conducting, 
cabal  directed  against  the  Barber  of  Bagdad 
he  gave  up  his  post  as  conductor  entirely, 
ignored  in  the  arrangements  for  the  producti 
Dingelstedt  was  not  ashamed  to  haggle  ^ 
for  a  few  dollars  more  or  less  honorariun 
was  abandoned,  another  ''lottery  prize"  va 
air, —  and  Wagner  was  reduced  to  such  a  ] 
had  to  pawn  his  only  valuables,  his  watch,  a  g 
box  from  the  Grand  Duke,  and  a  bonhonnih 
Princess.     (''May  the  world  pardon  me  thes 
he  exclaims.) 

Surely  there  was  reason  why  he  should  ma] 
attempt,  through  Liszt,  to  improve  his  po 
does  not  care  so  much  for  amnesty,  or  fo 
position  at  a  German  theatre;  even  occasic 
ance  at  performances  is  not  what  he  most 
mission  is  to  compose,  and  how  can  he  do 
this  when  petty  financial  cares  are  t^^'--- 


A   VXHrZTlAS  LOrS-DUO  65 

and  what  he  thinks  he  has  a  right  to  claim,  is  a  reg^nlar 
pension,  such  as  friendly  German  potentates  might  award 
him,  in  retam  for  aerrices  to  be  rendered.  He  •wants 
the  enormous  . annual  sum  of  "at  least  two  or  three 
thousand  thalers"  (S1600  to  S2200)— no  more  than 
had  been  paid  to  other  composers  —  even  to  Mendelssohn, 
who  was  wealthy  and  did  not  need  it.  In  return  for  this 
be  would  pledge  himself  to  compose  continuously,  and, 
after  his  return  to  Germany,  personally  superintend  the 
production  of  his  operas  at  the  theatres  of  the  Princes 
who  contributed  to  the  pension.  The  obligation  would 
not  be  great,  he  adds.  He  was  now  forty-six  years  old, 
and  looked  forward  to  ten  years  more  of  activity. 

Of  course  this  plan,  like  all  its  predecessors,  came 
to  naught.  Xay,  so  far  from  being  amnestied  and  pen- 
sioned, he  was  deliberately  harassed  in  Italy.  The 
Saxon  authorities  made  an  effort  to  secure  his  expulsion 
from  Venice,  and  it  was  only  owing  to  a  certificate  from 
his  physician  that  he  was  allowed  to  stay  a  little  longer, 
on  account  of  the  state  of  his  health. 

Such  experiences  would  embitter  a  saint,  and  Wagner 
was  a  Job  only  in  experiences,  not  in  temper.  He 
BotEered  at  this  time  from  several  paroxysms  of  fury  and 
ill  humor,  in  which,  he  says  himself,  "  I  must  be  very 
ugly.  ...  I  know  that  I  allow  myself  too  much  free- 
dom, and  that  I  count  more  than  is  right  on  the  patience 
of  others."  And  as  a  man  who  has  been  annoyed  by 
persons  on  whom  he  cannot  discharge  his  pent-up  wrath, 
sometimes  uses  the  dearest  friends  and  relatives  as  a 
lightning-rod;  so  Wagner,  goaded  by  ill-health,  and  the 
cumulating  pile  of  disappointments,  wrote  a  letter  to 
Liszt  which  might  have  brought  about  a  niptnie  but  for 


56  LAST  TEARS  OF  BZILE 

the  good  nature  of  Liszt,  who,  however,  "washed  his 
friend's  head "  thoroughly  Id  a  reply  which  Is  not 
printed  in  tlie  Correapondence.  It  was  only  a  "  family 
quarrel,"  a  passing  storm,  leaving  matters  as  they  were 
before.  And  how  they  were  before,  may  be  seen  from 
Liazt'a  utterance  when  he  received  advance  sheets  of 
the  lii.st  act  of  Trittan  from  the  publishers,  and  from 
Wagner's  answer:  — 

•'  What  a  heavenly  gift  HSrtel  Iim  sent  roe  I  All  the  ohlldran  in 
tbe  world,  with  Clirlatmas  trees  adorned  with  goldeo  fruits  and 
lovely  preBPuts,  cannot  experience  tu  mach  joy  as  I  alone  derived 
from  your  unique  TriUan.  Away  with  all  cares  and  troubles  of 
the  humdrum  world  I  Here  once  more  ia  something  to  weep  over 
and  flare  up  in  enthusiasm.  What  raiislilng  magic  1  Wbat  an 
incredible  wealth  of  beAUt;  in  Uua  flaming  love  potion  I  Wbat 
muHt  have  been  your  (eelingi  when  you  conceived  and  composed 
this  wonderful  work  1 " 

Liszt,  being  a  composer  himself,  knew  that  the  pleas- 
ures of  creating  outweigh  all  the  triumphs  of  popular 
success.  That  only  one  thing  is  comparable  to  these  crea- 
tive pleasures  Wagner  knew.  Supersensitive  though  he 
was  to  criticism,  he  was  far  from  sharing  the  feelings  of 
Byron,  who  once  wrote  that  the  depreciation  of  the  low- 
est of  mankind  was  more  painful  to  him  than  the  ap- 
plause of  the  highest  was  pleasing.  On  the  contrary, 
the  sympathy  and  encouragement  of  one  man  upheld 
him  against  a  host  of  Philistines:  "The  blessing  of 
your  expression  of  sympathetic  interest  in  Tristan, 
which  I  had  long  looked  forward  to  with  incredible 
eagerness,  made  me  flare  up  in  convulsive  exultation," 
was  his  answer  to  Liszt;  and  it  was  this  manifestation 
of  sympathy  that  had  led  him  to  hope  that  others  might 


AT  TEE  LAKE  OF  LUCERNE  57 

come  to  Bhare  it,  and  help  him  to  secure  the  peoBion 
which  Toold  enable  him  to  contiQiie  his  creative  work. 


AT  THE  LAKE  OF  LUOBBNE 

Driven  from  Venice  by  the  persecution  of  Saxon  offi- 
cials, he  once  more  sought  refuge  in  Switzerland,  choos- 
ing tbia  time  tbe  romantic  Lake  of  Lucerne :  — 

"  Toa  know  how  I  lore  tlie  Vlerwaldstltter  &ee,"  he  wrftM  to 
hiB  frtend ;  "  Rigt  and  PllmUia,  etc.,  have  become  a  hygienic  neoea- 
sity  for  my  blood.  There  I  shall  be  quite  alone.  At  thl«  aeMon 
[Haroh]  it  will  be  easy  to  find  a  moat  deeliable  lealdence,  and 
there  I  expect  to  woric  q>lendldly.  My  Biard  baa  already  gone 
ahead." 

Here  the  third  act  of  Trlttan  was  begnn  and  completed, 
in  about  four  months ;  there  is  extant  a  telegram  from 
Liszt,  dated  Aug.  d,  1859,  reading:  "To  the  completed 
Tri»Um  the  heartiest  congratulations  of  your  faithful 
Franciscus."  It  need  not  be  said  that  under  the  most 
cheering  circumstances  the  writing  of  such  a  marvel- 
lously complicated  act  as  the  third  of  Tristan,  bubbling 
over  with  genius,  would  have  been  a  tremendous  achieve- 
ment; but  the  feat  becomes  more  remarkable  when  we 
discover  what  a  cheerless,  desolate  existence  the  com- 
poser led  during  this  time:  — 

"Excepting  the  seivanta,  I  do  not  iee  a  human  being.  Try  to 
Imagine  what  my  feelings  must  be.  —  Children  I  children  1  I  fear 
I  shall  be  neglected  loo  long,  and  the  ■  too  late '  will  some  day  pra. 
sent  itsell  to  yon  too,  with  reference  to  me.  I  un  told,  'finish 
TriHan,  then  we  shall  se« '  1  But  what  if  I  did  not  finish  Triitan 
becanae  I  conld  not  do  it  ?  I  feel  as  if  I  must  bieak  down  la 
deqiairbefontha— goal?— is  reached.    At  any  rate,  I  daily  look 


68  LAST  TEARS  OF  EXILE 

at  my  book  nitb  the  best  will,  but  mr  hend  renu^B  deKlsle,  m; 
heart  empty,  aad  I  etare  out  into  the  mlata  and  rain- clouds,  whi[^h 
hare  been  impenetrable  here  since  my  arrival  [two  montht  ago], 
and  have  prevented  me  even  from  purifying  my  dark  blood  by 
means  of  a  few  invigorating  eicuraions.  .  .  . 

"  With  the  last  act  of  thts  child  of  pain,  1  am  now  stAoding  on 
the  edge  of  Co  be  ornot  to  be  —  a  trifling  presBure  on  some  spring 
of  the  common  chance  to  which  I  am  now  exposed  so  meroUessly, 
may  kill  thi*  child  before  its  birth." 

For  the  second  time  lie  was  tempted  to  give  up  composi- 
tion, to  go  abroad  and  conduct  concerts,  the  offer  coming 
this  time  from  the  United  States.  Fortuuately  he  said 
no;  who  knows  what  might  have  happened  to  him?  and 
Tristan  would  have  remained  incomplete.  The  whole 
long  and  tragic  letter  (No.  290),  from  which  I  have  just 
quoted  a  few  lines,  should  be  studied  by  every  reader  of 
this  biography.  No  one  but  the  composer  of  the  heart- 
rending music  of  the  third  aet  of  Trixtan  could  have 
possibly  written  it.  Liszt  describes  it  admirably  in  his 
reply :  — 

'•  What  a  frightful  storm  —  your  letter,  dearest  Kichard  1  With 
what  might  of  despair  it  tosses  about  and  demolishes  everything ! 
What  remains  to  be  heard  amid  this  din  and  howling  ?  .  .  .  And 
yet  my  faith  in  you  is  firm.  .  .  .  Even  your  crazy  injustice  towards 
yourself,  wlien  you  call  yourself  '  a  miserable,  bungling  musi- 
cian' (!!!)  iaasipi  of  your  greatness.  As  Pascal  remarks,  'True 
elac[iiotiou  mocks  at  eloquence. '  " 

To  which  the  pious  Lis2t  adds,  as  was  his  wont,  words 
of  religious  consolation,  though  he  knew  that  his  seeds 
would  not  fall  on  soil  where  they  could  grow.  Tristan, 
however,  was  completed,  and  remains  the  most  remarka- 
ble opiu  in  the  literature  of  music  —  a  work  so  original, 


AT  THX  LAKS  OF  LUCEBSB  69 

BO  oaiqne,  that  no  other  composer  before  or  since  could 
have  written  a  pi^e  of  it;  a  score  bo  marvellously  con- 
catenated in  all  its  parts  that  a  page  removed  &om  it 
would  mar  the  whole,  as  much  as  a  pillar  removed  would 
mar  a  temple  j  and  just  as  a  single  capital  suffioes  to 
show  the  style  of  a  temple,  so  every  single  bar  of  Tristan 
is  unmistakably  Tristanesque. 

The  score  being  completed  and  placed  in  the  pub- 
lisher's bands,  the  next  thing  was  to  find  a  place  for  its 
performance.  The  Strassbu^  project  previously  alluded 
to  was  given  up  on  the  advice  of  Dr.  £.  Devrient,  Direc- 
tor of  the  Orandducal  theatre  at  Karlsruhe,  who  recom- 
mended his  own  theatre  instead.  Koi  was  this  unwise 
counsel,  for  Grand  Duke  Friedricb  of  Baden  had  married 
the  Princess  Ix>nise  of  Prussia,  who  was  an  admirer  of 
Wagner's  music,  as  was  the  Duke  himself,  who  prom* 
ised  to  provide  the  means  for  a  good  performance. 
Moreover,  at  this  time  the  Karlsruhe  theatre  rejoiced 
in  the  possession  of  those  two  gifted  singers,  Schnorr 
Ton  Garolsfeld  and  his  wife,  whom  Wagner,  six  years 
later,  chose  among  all  German  singers  to  impersonate 
the  rdles  of  Tristan  and  Isolde  at  Munich.  But  the 
usual  ill-luck  pursued  him  here.  To  give  Tristan  with- 
out his  personal  supervision  was  out  of  the  question,  and 
although  the  Duke  himself  pleaded  with  the  King  of 
Saxony  on  his  behalf,  permission  for  his  even  temporary 
sojourn  in  Germany  could  not  be  secured.  And  when  in 
the  following  year,  a  partial  amnesty  followed,  which 
would  have  enabled  Wagner  to  go  to  Karlsruhe,  the  two 
Schnorrs  had  left  that  city  (gone  to  Dre*den  —  the 
capital  of  Saxony,  from  which  he  was  still  excluded), 
while  the  singers  who  had  taken  their  place  were  unable 


u/r 


lug  Closed  against  him,  iiotliing  was  1 
in  Switzerland,  or  go  to  Paris  or  Lond 
ences  at  London  had  not  been  such  as  1 
experiments,  and  Switzerland  was  begii 
him,  for  the  reason  that  he  had  no  oppo 
hear  his  own  or  any  other  music.     Pari 
selected  as  a  place  where  he  could  at  an 
occasional  quartet  o^  orchestral   concei 
offered  at  least  the  possibility  of  the  perf< 
of  his  operas.     There  was  a  chance  foi 
Th^tre  Lyrique;     Tannhduser  was  nan 
in  a  vague  connection  with  the  Grand  0] 
knows  but  that  a  chance  might  offer  even 
To  Paris,  therefore,  he  went,  with  the  ini 
maining  there  an  indefinite  time  —  regardlc 
agreeable  memories  which  this  sojourn  mi 
his  trials,  disappointments,  and  starvation 
place  twenty  years  before.      Twenty  yet 
meantime  he  had  finished  Biemif  compose 
maUf  Tannhduaer,  Lohengrin,  Rheingold,  ] 
of  Siegfried,  and  the  whole  of  Tristan;   ] 
his  fame  and  prospects   in  Paris  were  c 
might  as  well  have  spent  these  years  as  a  i 
South  Africa.     A  few  selections  from  hi 
been  played  at  semi-private  concerts;  a  nui 
cious  and  a  few  favorable  newspaper  ai-^^^ 
peared  on  his  t«"— - 


AT  Tax  LAKS  OF  LUCERNE 


61 


piano  score  of  Tannhfiuser  in  the  house  of  a  friend  —  but 
that  was  about  all.  France  vas  slumbering  in  profound 
igliorance  of  the  composer  of  the  "music  of  the  future  "; 
but  events  were  brewing  which  were  soon  to  make  him 

the  best  known  man  in  Paris. 


IN  PARIS   AGAIN 

In  a  public  letter  addreflsed  to  the  editor  of  a  Vienna 
newspaper,'  Wagner  himself  confessed  that  his  chief 
motive  for  settling  again  in  Paris,  in  the  autumn  of 
1859,  was  the  hope  of  being  able  to  bring  about  a  per- 
formance of  Tristan  under  his  personal  guidance,  which 
in  Germany  vfas  at  that  time  impossible.  His  original 
plan  was  to  invite  a  number  of  the  best  German  singers 
to  Paris,  in  the  summer  of  1860,  to  give  a  series  of 
model  performances  of  Tristan,  to  which  periiapa  some 
of  his  earlier  works  might  be  added.  This,  however, 
was  more  easily  planned  than  carried  out.  The  desired 
singers,  having  their  vacations  at  different  times,  could 
not  all  accept  simultaneously,  and,  more  important  still,- 
such  an  enterprise  would  require  a  large  sum  of  money 
of  which  the  projector  himself  could  not  advance  a 
penny.  There  was,  however,  a  wealthy  man,  a  friend 
of  one  of  his  friends,  who  might  perhaps  be  induced  to 
take  the  risk,  provided  he  could  be  sufficiently  interested 
in  the  music.  Por  this  purjiose,  and  in  order  to  give 
the  Parisians  a  taste  of  his  music,  Wagner  made  ar- 
rangements for  a  few  concerts,  at  which  excerpts  from 
his  operas  were  to  be  given.  But  before  describing 
these  concerts,  a  few  preliminary  events  must  be  related. 
1  BoUcha/ter,  ISOSj  reprinted  io  Bayreuther  Blatter,  189a 


IN  PABIB  AOAIJf  68 

Aji  interesting  and  seemingly  aospicions  incident 
occurred  at  the  cuBtom-houae  when  Wagner  entered 
Paris.  It  is  related  by  the  dramatist  Sardou  in  the 
preface  to  a  collection  of  the  poems  of  Edmond  Boche. 
This  young  poet  was  at  that  time  a  cnstoms  officer  at 
the  railway  station.  One  day  he  noticed  that  a  stranger, 
just  from  Grermany,  was  having  difficulty  in  getting 
through  the  thousand  fonnalities  of  the  place.  The 
stranger's  name  was  Wagner;  Roche  assisted  him  with 
the  greatest  possible  politeness,  and  when  Wagner 
thanked  him,  he  replied :  "  I  am  only  too  happy  to  have 
obliged  a  great  artist."  "You  know  me  then?"  ex- 
claimed the  artist,  surprised  and  pleased.  Koche  smiled 
and  hummed  a  few  melodies  from  his  operas.  "Ah, 
it  is  a  happy  augury,"  exclaimed  Wagner;  "the  first 
Parisian  I  meet  knows  my  music  and  likes  it.  We 
shall  meet  again; "  and  with  these  words  he  took  a  few 
sheets  of  music  from  his  satchel  and  dedicated  them 
to  Boche.  They  did  meet  again,  for  Koche  became  the 
translator  of  Tannhauser;  but  the  "happy  augury  "  did 
not  amount  to  much. 

One  of  the  first  friends  Wagner  made  in  Paris  at  this 
time  was  A.  de  Gasp^riui,  a  young  physician  and  author, 
who  subsequently  published  a  Wagner  biography  of  173 
pages*  which  contains  many  interesting  details,  espe- 
cially of  this  Parisian  period.  Gasp^rini  relates  that 
when  he  met  the  composer  he  would  have  judged  him, 
from  his  appearance,  to  be  thirty-six,  and  not  forty-alx. 
At  first  he  was  struck  by  his  apparent  coldness,  reserve, 
aod  the  immobility  of  bis  features.  But  as  he  warmed 
up  in  eonversation,  a  complete  transformation  took  place, 
iParU:  Baiigd,lS66. 


64  a  PAB18  AOfUW, 

and  his  visitor  found  in  Imn  the  man  niQh  as  he  had  im- 
agined him  from  his  works.  When  thejtoaehed  a  sym- 
pathetic subject, — the  Parisian  plans^— he  looked  no 
longer  like  an  ascetic  disciple  of  Buddha  and  Schopen- 
hauer, but  '^a  yoimg  man,  fall  of  life  and  futh,  and  in 
spite  of  his  theories,  far  removed  from  Bqddha  and  hia 
sterile  meditations.'' 

The  first  few  months  Wagner  lived  on  the  Bne  Mati- 
gnon,  but  the  place  was  too  noisy  for  him,  so  he  moved 
to  the  Rue  Newton,  near  the  Arc  de  Triomphe^  where  he 
could  enjoy  the  sight  of  trees.  His  npholstary,  the 
accumulation  of  years,  he  had  brought  from  Zflrieh,  and 
forthwith  the  gossips  charged  him  with  the  ostentation 
of  an  Eastern  potentatel  ''Look  here,''  he  said  one 
day  to  Praeger,  who  had  gone  to  Paris  to  call  on  him; 
''now  you  know  this  furniture,  and  how  carefully  Minna 
has  preserved  it,  and  yet  see  how  I  am  treated."  In  the 
third  volume  of  the  anonymous  Memairen  einer  Idealittin 
(p.  258)  we  find  this  description  of  the  new  domicile:  — 

**  Wagner  had  rented  a  smaU  house  with  a  Uttle  garden,  in  a 
quiet  street,  not  too  far  from  the  ChampB-^lys^es.  It  presented 
a  charmingly  cosy  appearance ;  especially  did  the  composer's  work- 
room and  the  music-room,  though  small,  wear  an  artistic  aspect 
Here  began  a  series  of  happy  hours.  Here  for  the  first  time  did  I 
see  Wagner  in  a  proper  light ;  the  London  fogs  were  dispeUed,  and 
with  astonishment  I  beheld  this  mighty  personality  unfolding 
before  me.  He  seemed  in  a  much  more  social  mood  than  he  had 
in  London.  Hospitably  he  opened  his  house  once  a  week,  and 
many  persons  of  note  attended  these  gatherings.** 

Among  the  notabilities  seen  there  were  the  authors  and 
poets  Baudelaire,  Ghampfleury,  Boche,  Lorbac,  JAroj, 
Qasn^rini  besides  Gustavo  Bor^^  Jules  Ferry,  Ollivier 


CONCERTS  IN  PARIS  AND  BRUSSELS         65 

and  his  wife  (Liszt's  daagliter)^  F.  Villot,  conservator 
of  the  Imperial  museums,  and  Berlioz. 

GOKGEBTS  IN  PABI8  AND  BBUSSELS 

So  far,  everything  seemed  to  promise  well  enough. 
By  way  of  calling  the  attention  of  the  public  to  his 
presence  and  his  projects  three  Wagner  concerts  were 
now  determined  upon.  An  application  was  made  for 
the  free  use  of  the  opera-house;  but  again  the  inevitable 
ill-luck  interfered.  No  answer  was  received  for  so  long 
a  time  that  he  gave  up  hope  from  this  quarter  and  hired 
the  Th^tre  Yentadour  at  a  high  sum:  hardly  had  he 
done  this  when  the  Op^ra  was  placed  at  his  disposal  — 
too  late,  of  course,  for  he  could  not  break  his  contract  at 
the  ^^Italiens."  Rehearsals  were  immediately  begun, 
partly  under  the  direction  of  Wagner,  partly  under 
Bdlow,  who  had  come  to  Paris  to  train  the  (chiefly  ama- 
teur) chorus.  The  first  concert  took  place  on  Jan.  25, 
1860,  and  was  followed  by  two  others  on  Feb.  1  and  8. 
The  programme  was  the  same  in  each  case :  Overture  to 
Dutchman;  march  with  chorus,  introduction  to  Act  III., 
pilgrims'  chorus,  and  overture  from  Tannhduser;  prel- 
ude of  Tristan;  prelude,  introduction  to  Act  III.,  and 
wedding  chorus  from  Lohengrin,  A  programme  which 
to-day  an  audience  in  a  Western  mining  camp  would 
almost  be  able  to  appreciate;  but  to  the  Parisian  critics 
of  three  decades  ago  (if  they  really  expressed  their  hon- 
est opinions),  it  was  all  caviare  I  Not  so  to  the  public, 
which  included  such  eminent  musicians  as  Auber,  Gou- 
nod, Meyerbeer,  Berlioz,  Grevaert,  and  Beyer.  Champ- 
fleury  states  that  ^'each  piece  was  received  with  veritable 
enthusiasm." 


6e  m  PARIS  AGAiy 

The  financial  result  of  the  three  concerts,  however, 
was  worse  thau  had  been  imticipated.  The  loss  was 
over  $1100,  [ind  poor  VVaguer,  who  had  just  succeeded 
in  selling  hia  Nibelung  scores  to  Schott  at  Mayence,  had 
to  pay  for  trying  to  interest  the  I'arisians  in  his  early 
operas^  by  using  up  a  large  part  of  the  scant  money  he 
had  earned  by  several  years'  hard  work  on  his  Tetral- 
ogy I  Hard  work,  hard  luck,  such  was  his  fate  until 
after  his  fiftieth  year;  and  even  then  the  change  for  the 
better  was  only  apparent  and  temporary. 

To  repair  the  damage  to  his  purse,  he  accepted  an 
invitation  to  repeat  his  concerts  (in  March)  at  the  Bel- 
gian Paris,  HrussL'ls.  Here  he  was  still  less  known  than 
in  Paris,  but  the  fact  that  Brussels  had  been  one  of  the 
first  cities  to  propose  a  performance  of  Lohengrin,  though 
it  came  to  nothing,  may  have  helped  to  decide  him  to 
take  this  step.  A  few  decades  later  Brussels  <iid  become 
a  Wagnerian  centre;  here  almost  all  of  his  operas  and 
mnaic-dramas  have  been  brought  out  with  success '  but 
at  that  time  there  was  not  sufficient  interest  in  him  to 
make  his  concerts  a  success;  the  hrst  brought  in  2123 
francs,  the  second  1395  —  not  enough  to  pay  expenses.' 

Amusing  anecdotes  are  told,  d  propos  of  these  concerts, 
of  the  famous  musical  critic,  historian,  and  theorist, 
F^tis  —  the  same  who  disliked  Beethoven's  third  style, 
and  after  reading  whose  essays  on  his  own  works  and 
theories  Wagner  once  exclaimed,  "  What  an  oss  / "  Being 
in  a  conciliatory  mood,  he  —  contrary  to  his  custom  — 

1  Lokfngrin  leads  here  as  everywhere.  U  had  tweaty-seTen  per- 
tormancea  in  1S91-3.  eigbt  more  Ctiau  even  the  ever-popular  Fautt. 

'  E.  Evenepoel,  Le  Waf/neriime  hors  d' Ailfmagne,  p.  68,  Fsrii: 
Flschbsflier.  a  book  in  wliich  the  liiittory  of  Wai^nerlsoi  in  BrDsseU  !■ 
treated  vith  great  detail,  and  in  ui  attractive  style. 


TASSBAVSEB  AUD  TBS  JOCKST  CLUB       67 

called  on  F^ie,  who  received  him  in  aD3'thing  but  an 
amiable  spirit.  The  conversation  soon  degenerated  into 
a  quarrel;  F^tis  questioned  the  sincerity  of  bis  visitor's 
art,  used  hard  words,  and  finally  showed  him  the  door, 
but  not  before  Winner  had  got  in  his  answer:  "Sie 
abgestumpfter  Greis,  Sie  woUen  urtheilen  tlber  einen 
so  gefiihlvoUen  Mann  wie  ich! "  ("You  blaa6  old  fogy 
—  you  presume  to  sit  in  judgment  on  a  man  of  feeling 
like  myself ! ")  F^tis  was  greatly  enn^ed  at  the  artistic 
success  of  the  concerts.  At  the  Conservatoire,  of  which 
he  was  director,  he  even  tried  to  secure  the  dismissal  of 
one  of  the  professors,  A.  Samuel,  who  bad  defended  the 
German  composer;  and  he  also  administered  a  severe 
rebuke  to  a  large  number  of  the  students  who  had 
applauded  the  "music  of  the  future,"  which  at  this  time, 
the  reader  should  remember,  included  nothing  more  ad- 
vanced than  lA>hengrin. 

TANNHAU8EB  AND  THE  JOCEBT  CLUB 
In  the  interval  between  the  Paris  and  the  Brusselg 
concerts  a  most  important  change  had,  however,  taken 
place  in  Wagner's  prospects.  The  financial  failure  of 
hiB  concerts  combined  with  the  difficulty  of  engaging 
competent  singers,  especially  when  one  has  no  money 
(and,  as  ill-luck  would  have  it,  the  wealthy  amateur 
whose  operatic  appetite  was  to  have  been  stimulated  by 
these  concerts  was  prevented  from  attending  them), 
had  left  no  doubt  as  to  the  impracticability  of  the  oper- 
atic scheme  for  which  the  concerts  were  to  have  been  a 
preparation.  Again  he  had  turned  his  eyes  towards 
Germany,  determined  to  make  a  final  effort  to  secure 
amnesty,  when  suddenly  —  a  miracle  happened:  Napo- 


6S  IS  PASIS  AOAIS 

leon  had  given  an  order  that  TannhHttwr  ahould  be  per- 
foj-med  at  the  Orand  Op4ra!  The  news  came  upoa 
Wagner  like  a  thunderbolt :  he  did  not  even  know  that 
Tawthduser  was  under  coneideration  at  the  Tuileriea; 
did  not  know  that  he  had  any  friends  there  who  could  or 
would  bring  aliout  Buch  a  result.  Cherchez  la  f emmet 
She  was  the  wife  of  the  Austrian  ambassador,  Princess 
Pauline  de  Mettemich,  a  special  friend  of  the  Empress; 
she  felt  pity  for  the  persecuted  composer,  and  she  ad- 
mired his  operas  — two  of  which  had  but  recently  been 
introduced  with  brilliant  success  in  Vienna.  Her  recom- 
mendation, weighted  by  that  of  members  of  the  German 
embassies,  induced  the  Emperor  to  give  his  memorable 
order.  It  is  said  that  Marshal  Magnan,  a  great  admirer 
of  Wagner's  music,  also  had  a  hand  in  the  matter. 

Tannhihtaer  at  the  Grand  Op^ra,  and  by  special  order 
of  the  Emperor,  with  carte  blanche  to  spend  as  much  as 
he  chose  on  the  best  singers  and  the  most  sumptuous 
scenery!     It  seemed  almost  too  good  to  believe. 

"  It  waa  one  of  the  grand  emotions  of  Wagner's  life,"  writes 
Gaspfrini :  "  quick  as  a  child  In  giving  hlmeelf  up,  either  to  joyous 
or  despondent  feelings,  he  saw  in  this  happy  turn  of  fate  the  begin- 
ning of  an  entirely  new  life.  In  a  few  hours  he  had  hatched  out 
project  upon  project,  conquest  upon  conquest." 

"Never  in  my  life,"  Wagner  wrote  to  Liszt,  under- 
scoring each  word  of  this  sentence,  "  have  the  means  for 
a  first-rate  performance  been  placed  at  my  command  so 
completely  and  unconditionally  as  this  time.  ...  It  is 
up  to  date  the  first  triumph  of  my  art  which  I  experi- 
ence personally."  Triumph?  Alas  three  —  but  let  us 
give  the  story  in  proper  order. 

Napoleon's  order,  while  it  aroused  the  jealousy  of 


1 


TANITHAUBXB  AND  TBS  JOCKXT  CLUB       69 

certain  French  composers  (and  their  &ieads)  who  irere 
waiting  to  have  operas  of  their  own  mounted,  made 
W^^er  the  musical  lion  of  the  day  —  a  real  lion  who 
could  have  his  own  way  in  eTerything.  Regardless  of 
expense  (for  the  Emperor  footed  the  bills)  and  under 
his  own  direction,  a  mue-en-ac67te  was  prepared  by  the 
best  French  scene-painters,  such  as  he  had  never  dreamt 
of  in  hia  most  Utopian  moments.  In  regard  to  the 
gingers,  he  was  to  have  free  choice.  Albert  Niemann, 
the  promising  German  tenor,  waa  secured  at  a  monthly 
salary  of  6000  francs,  with  a  special  proviso  that  he  must 
not  appear  in  any  opera  except  2bnnMu«er.  Madame 
Tedesco,  who  was  to  be  Venus,  received  the  same  sum. 
For  the  part  of  Wolfram,  Morelli  waa  engaged  at  3000 
francs. 

Surprise  waa  created  when  Wagner  announced  his 
extra  orchestral  needs.  He  wanted  twelve  horns  (more 
than  could  be  found  in  Fajis  at  that  time),  twelve  trum- 
pets, four  trombones,  four  oboes,  four  flutes,  four  clari- 
nets, four  bassoons,  etc. ;  he  consented,  however,  to  some 
reduction  of  these  figures.  Before  the  singers  could 
be  assigned  their  tasks,  it  was  necessary  to  get  the  text 
translated  into  French.  Ordinarily,  this  would  have 
been  the  easiest  thing  in  the  world;  the  original  verses 
would  have  been  handed  over  to  some  hack  rhymester 
who  would  have  done  them  into  slovenly  French  at  so 
much  a  yard.  That  was  not  Wagner's  idea  o£  operatic 
translation.  He  must  have  not  only  an  equivalent  in 
words,  but  the  accent  of  every  word  must  correspond 
with  the  melodic  accent.  So  important  waa  this  in  his 
eyes  that  when  he  rewrote  the  music  of  the  first  scene, 
he  used  the  French  words  in  order  to  secure  perfect  cor- 


70  nf  PABIB  AGAIN 

reapondence.'  But  for  the  rest  of  the  book  the  worda 
had  to  be  adapted  to  the  music.  A  willing  victim  to 
this  difficult  and  thankless  task  was  found  in  the  poet 
Koche,  whose  acquaintance  we  made  at  the  custom-house. 
Sardou,  in  the  preface  above  referred  to,  gives  a  vivid 
description  of  the  hard  work  to  which  this  poor  poet 
submitted  in  his  efforts  to  please  the  exacting  composer. 
Many  days  and  nights  were  spent  by  the  two  in  the 
attempt  to  find  the  right  words  and  syllables  and  accents, 
Sunday,  being  an  off-day  for  the  customs  official,  was 
given  up  entirely  to  the  translation.  At  seven  in  the 
morning  they  began,  continuing  without  a  pause  till 
noon,  till  one  —  till  two  —  till  finally  the  pen  dropped 
from  the  hand  of  the  weary  poet,  who  ventured  to  sug- 
gest that  it  was  lunch  time.  "Ah,  lunch;  I  had  forgot- 
ten," was  Wagner's  reply;  "let  US  take  a  hurried  bite 
and  begin  again." 

It  was  hard  on  the  translator,  no  doubt,  but  Sardou 
forgets  how  much  greater  must  have  been  the  worry  and 
toil  of  the  cooperating  author,  "  coming  and  going,  with 
fiery  eyes,  furious  gestures,  playing  passages  on  his 
piano,  singing,  exclaiming,  and  urging  me  to  'go  on! 
go  on! ' "  To  complete  this  part  of  the  tale,  it  may  be 
added  here  that  Roche  died,  broken-hearted,  shortly 
after  the  failure  of  the  opera  on  which  he  had  placed  so 
much  hope;  wlitle  Rudolph  Lindau,  who  had  assisted  in 
the  first  version  of  the  translation  which  the  director 
of  the  Op^ra  refused  to  accept,  brought  suit  against 
Wagner,  in  order  to  have  his  name  placed  as  one  of  the 
translators  on  the  play  bill;  but  the  courts  decided 
against  him,  except  as  regards  a  pecuniary  compensa- 
'  aasp^rinl,  p.  62, 


TASNHAUSER  A^D  TBS  JOCKEY  CLUB        71 

tion,  to  which  of  course  he  was  entitled.  While  he  was 
Btill  eagaged  on  this  tiaoBlation,  Wagner  had  another 
Buprise:  permission  to  letum  to  Germany  (Saxony  ex- 
cepted) had  at  last  been  granted  him  —  for  ptofessional 
purposes,  and  provided  permiasioD  was  specially  obtained 
in  eaoh  caae.  Xapoleon  is  said  to  have  expressed  sux- 
prise  that  Germany  could  so  long  treat  a  man  like  Wag- 
ner as  an  exile ;  and  this,  combined  with  the  Tannhduter 
affair,  and  the  influence  of  the  Princess  von  Uettemich, 
has  been  heretofore  assumed  by  biographers  to  have 
caused  the  Saxon  officials  to  relent  at  last.  These 
friends  may  have  helped;  but  the  prime-mover  in  this 
affair  is  indicated  in  a  letter  to  Liszt  dated  Sept.  13, 
1860.  "At  the  Prussian  embassy  I  was  told  that  the 
Princess  of  Prussia  would  eoon  be  at  the  Bhine;  the 
Saxon  ambassador  told  me  it  would  be  a  gratification  to 
him,  and  woold  also  please  the  King  of  Saxony,  if  I 
thanked  the  Princess  for  her  influence  in  the  late  de- 
cision concerning  me." 

Od  the  strength  of  his  partial  amnesty  he  made  a  short 
excursion  to  the  Rhine  region,  as  far  as  Frankfort,  where 
he  met  his  wife,  who  had  been  undergoing  treatment  at 
Soden,  near  Wiesbaden.  He  also  visited  Baden-Baden, 
where  he  was  graciously  received  by  the  Princess  of 
Prussia. 

"At  Wiesbaden,  Frankfurt,  Damutadt,  and  1  know  not  how 
many  other  placM,"  wrote  Liazt,  afterwards,  "  they  were  expecting 
Wagner,  and  wanted  to  see  him  direct  or  at  least  attend  a  per- 
formance of  TannhSuftr  and  Lohengrin.  Certainly  there  would 
have  been  no  lack  of  enthusiastic  demonstrations.  But  in  face  of 
a  work  like  TrUtan,  where  every  one  must  say  at  first  si^t  of  the 
score :  'here  is  something  unprecedented,  wonderful,  sublime,'  the 
lubbers  all  crawl  sway  and  conceal  themselTes." 


74  IW  PARIS  AQAm 

on  this  ballet  in  the  second  act,  and  this  assertion  was 
confirmed  by  the  Minister  of  State.  A  more  "diplo- 
matic "  man  would  have  yielded  the  point,  but  Wagner's 
magniiicent  stubbornness  in  matters  of  principle  made 
him  prefer  failure  to  a  success  dependent  on  the  prosti- 
tntion  of  his  opera.  He  obstinately  refused  to  accede  to 
the  director's  wishes,  declared  that  ho  would  sooner  take 
back  hia  score  and  give  up  the  performance  altogether, 
and  finally  appealed  to  his  protectress,  the  Princess  von 
Metternich,  whose  intercession  at  the  highest  tribunal 
had  the  res\ilt  that  he  was  allowed  to  have  his  own  way 
in  this  matter  —  at  his  own  risk. 

He  had  long  felt  that  the  first  scene  in  Tannh&user 
was  weak  and  needed  revision.  Without  any  reference 
to  the  "aristocratic  subscribers  "  (i.e.  the  Jockey  Club), 
who  would  not  see  this  part  of  the  opera  anyway,  he 
therefore  sot  about  recomposing  this  scene  entirely, 

"  Iain  retouching  such  wesk  points  as  I  have  found  in  the  ecor»," 
he  writes  to  Liszt,  on  Sept.  13,  1860 ;  "  with  much  enjojment  I  am 
rBwriting  the  great  Venus  scene,  and  intend  that  it  ahall  be  greatly 
benefited  thereby.  The  ballet-acene  also  will  be  entirely  new,  alter 
a  more  elBborat«  plan  which  I  have  made  for  it." 

Unfortunately,  this  scene,  as  imagined  by  him,  pre- 
sented difiicultiea  insuperable  to  the  ballet  corps  even 
of  the  Grand  Op^ra,  an  institution  which  had  degener- 
ated at  that  time  into  little  more  than  a  pretext  for 
ballet  performances, —  that  is,  the  crude,  clumsy,  and 
lascivious  anatomical  exhibitions  and  tip-toe  dancing 
which,  by  some  strange  occultation  of  all  lesthetic  pow- 
ers of  discrimination,  used  to  be  considered  "graceful." 
In  his  essay  On  Conducting  (VIII.  386)  W^ner  relates 


TANNHAU8ER  AND  THE  JOCKEY  CLUB       75 

the  result  of  his  efforts  to  make  something  artistic  of 
this  ballet:  — 

'*  I  called  the  ballet-master^s  attention  to  the  awkward  contrast 
which  the  lamentable  skips  and  short  jmm  of  his  mnnads  and 
bacchantes  presented  to  my  mosic,  and  demanded  that,  in  place  of 
this,  his  dancers  should  enact  something  bold  and  wildly  sublime, 
resembling  the  groups  and  processions  of  bacchanals  on  antique 
reliefs.  Whereupon  the  man  whistled  through  his  fingers  and  said : 
*  Ah,  I  take  your  point  perfectly,  but  for  such  a  thing  I  would  need 
an  entire  corps  of  '*  first  **  dancers ;  were  I  to  tell  my  dancers  a 
word  about  this,  and  endeavor  to  give  them  the  attitude  you  mean, 
we  should  at  once  have  the  cancan,  and  would  be  lost.*  '*  ^ 

As  the  rehearsals  had  already  begun  when  these 
changes  were  made  in  the  score,  some  confusion  was 
created  by  them,  especially  among  the  singers.  Nie- 
mann,  who  had  been  intimidated  by  hostile  influences, 
created  a  sensation  by  refusing  to  sing  the  new  version 
of  his  scene  with  Venus,  and  the  composer  was  com- 
pelled to  make  excisions.  Tedesco  also  became  so  im- 
patient over  the  composer's  attempts  to  teach  her  how 
to  properly  sing  her  part,  that  she  could  hardly  be 
restrained  from  marking  his  face  with  her  finger-nails. 
All  the  singers,  and  the  players  too,  were  disgusted  at 
the  unusual  number  of  rehearsals  exacted.  There  were 
no  fewer  than  164,  all  told.*    The  reader  knows  what  a 

1  Wagner  did  not  live  to  carry  oat  his  later  plan  of  producing  Janii- 
Mu9«r  at  Bayreath  exactly  as  he  had  conceived  it.  The  bacchanalian 
scene  in  question  was,  however,  done  at  the  Festival  of  1891,  without 
his  supervision,  in  a  manner  wliich  proved  that  it  can  be  superbly  exe- 
cuted without  a  corps  of  "  first "  dancers. 

*  Ch.  Nuitter  has  given  a  detailed  account  of  them  in  the  Bayreuther 
Fesihldttert  from  which  it  appears  that  there  were  seventy-three  rehear- 
sals with  piano,  all  but  nine  of  which  Wagner  attended;  forty-five 
ehoral  rehearsals,  twenty-seven  on  the  stage,  all  but  three  of  which  he 
supervised,  and  fourteen  fuU  rehearsals  with  orchestra,  aU  of  which 
were  held  in  his  presence. 


76  IN  PAHia  AGAOt 

tremendous  worker  Wagner  waa  at  rehearsals.  To  have 
more  than  a  hundred  of  them  was  enough  to  break  doWD 
even  his  iron  constitution.  He  had  an  illness  which 
verged  on  an  attack  of  brain-fever,  and  made  him  sub- 
pend  all  activity  for  some  weeks.  On  Dec.  15  he  writes 
to  Liszt  tiiat  he  may  infer  his  condition  from  the  fact 
that  "the  proof-sheets  of  Rheingold,  which  Bchott  was 
so  anxious  to  publish  before  Christmas,  have  been  lying 
on  my  table  for  seven  weeks  untouched." 

Every  moment  of  his  time  was,  in  fact,  devoted  to 
—  or  riither  wasted  on  —  the  rehearsals,  which  lasted 
almost  six  months  (Sept.  24,  I860,  to  March  10,  1861). 
His  poor  health,  the  terrible  strain  on  his  nerves, 
caused  by  a  hundred  rehearsals,  would  alone  have  suf- 
ficed to  make  him  irritable  and  cause  him  to  indulge 
in  explosions  of  wrath.  But  what  made  the  situation 
almost  unendurable  to  a  man  of  his  temperament  was 
the  insulting  and  irrational  conduct  of  the  assisting 
artists,  and  especially  of  the  couductor.  Here  was  the 
composer  of  an  opera  which  had  made  its  way  trium- 
phantly to  all  the  German  opera-houses.  He,  the  author 
of  both  the  verses  and  the  music,  shoulil  have  been 
looked  upon,  one  would  think,  as  the  best  and  incon- 
trovertible authority  regarding  its  interpretation.  But 
the  singers  became  angry  when  he  tried  to  teach  them 
the  correct  phrasing  of  their  parts,  the  ballet-master 
declared  that  his  intentions  could  not  be  carried  out, 
and,  worst  of  all,  the  conductor  obstinately  refused  to 
tfollow  his  instructions  regarding  tempo  and  modifica- 
tions of  tempo,  on  which  the  whole  spirit  of  the  opera 
depends.  This  conductor  was  Dietsch,  the  same  man 
who,  twenty  years  previously,  had  converted  the  Flying 


TANNHAU8ES  AND  THE  JOCKEY  CLUB       77 

Dutchman  poem  into  an  opera  —  which  proved  a  dismal 
failure.  Wagner  soon  discovered  that  this  man  was 
absolutely  incompetent  to  conduct  TannMuaeTf  while 
his  obstinacy  in  refusing  to  listen  to  suggestions  threat- 
ened to  ruin  everything.  An  appeal  was  therefore  made 
to  Director  Royer  that  he  himself  should  be  allowed  to 
conduct  the  first  performances;  but  this  request,  being 
contrary  to  all  rules  and  precedence  at  the  Op^ra,  was 
politely  refused  by  the  Director,  and,  on  appeal,  by 
Count  Walewski,  Minister  of  State.  ^  The  orchestra 
sided  with  Dietsch  and  the  authorities  in  this  matter, 
not  from  any  hostility  to  Wagner,  —  for  in  1875,  when 
the  conductor  of  the  Op^ra  wanted  to  give  the  b&ton  to 
Gounod,  on  a  Faust  night,  the  orchestra  opposed  the 
change  too,  — but  because  custom  is  custom,  and  change 
implies  extra  labor.  The  result  was,  as  Nuitter  re- 
marks, that 

"  Wagner,  with  all  his  insistence,  his  energy,  his  influential  pat- 
rons, had  to  resign  himself  to  see  the  orchestra  conducted  by 
another,  and  conducted  contrary  to  his  intentions.  Those  who 
attended  the  rehearsals  will  never  forget  them.  The  conductor  at 
his  dedk  was  beating  his  time ;  wliile  the  composer,  seated  two 
steps  away  from  him,  on  the  stage,  by  the  prompter's  box,  was 
beating  his  own  time,  and  beating  it  with  hands  and  feet,  raising  a 
terrible  noise  and  a  cloud  of  dust  on  the  stage  floor.*' 

Would  it  be  possible  to  conceive  anything  more  ex- 
traordinary, more  idiotic,  than  such  treatment  of  a 
dramatic  author?  After  all,  the  foolish,  vain,  and  incom- 
petent Dietsch  was  but  a  sample  of  the  average  conduc- 
tor with  whom  Wagner  had  to  deal  all  his  life.    If,  under 

1  The  interesting  correspondence  on  tliis  subject  is  published  in  the 
article  by  Ch.  Nuitter  in  the  Bayreuther  FestbldtUr, 


78  l!f  PARIS  AGAIN 

such  circumstances,  he  lost  his  temper,  and  became  vio- 
lent, everybody  eiclaimed,  "What  a  disagreeable  manl 
No  wonder  he  has  enemies!  "  No  wonder  indeedl  And 
no  wonder  that,  as  Gasp^rini  relates :  — 

"  >Vben  the  day  of  the  performance  arrived,  the  unhappy  com- 
poser, irritated,  wounded,  ill,  dissatisfied  wltb  everybody,  bimseU 
included,  bad  lost  all  hope,  and  nas  almost  wishing  for  a  cataclysm 
to  deliver  him  at  a  blow  from  this  wretched  life.  He  went  to  the 
Opera-bouw,  not  like  one  about  to  do  battle,  but  bad  binxelt 
dragged  there  like  one  condemned  to  death.  In  the  few  days  pre- 
ceding the  decisive  hour,  he  bad  forgotten  his  deareat  friends ;  he 
hud  fallen  a  victim  to  a  deep,  incurable  despair ;  the  only  thing  bo 
hoped  for  was  delivenmoe,  rest." 

In  his  own  account  of  this  episode  Wagner  writes 

(VH.iag):  — 

"  What  kind  oF  a  reception  my  opera  would  receive  at  the  hiada 
of  tbe  public,  was,  under  such  clrcumstAnces,  almost  a  matter  of 
iudifference  to  me ;  the  most  brilliant  success  could  not  have  in- 
duced me  to  personally  attend  a  series  of  performances,  since  I 
was  altogether  too  much  dtaaatisfied." 

But  he  could  hardly  have  suspected  what  a  terrible 
fiasco  was  awaiting  him,  even  though  rumor  must  have 
acquainted  him  in  advance  with  the  fact  that  there  were 
several  conspiracies  to  frustrate  all  chance  of  success. 
The  regular  claque  was  offended  and  determined  to  have 
revenge  because  be  had  demanded  its  suppression,  since 
he  wanted  an  honest  success  or  none  at  all;  the  jour- 
nalists (on  whom  he  had  failed  to  call)  had  banded  to- 
gether, not  only  to  jump  on  him  after  the  event,  in  their 
articles,  but  to  "demonstrate"  against  him  during  the 
performance.  But  the  most  formidable  enemy  was  that 
scum  of  human  society  (which,  future  generations  will 


tanshAubeb  and  the  jockey  club     79 

find  to  their  amazed  amusement,  used  to  be  regarded  as 
"Booiety"  itself)  the  jgunesae  dorie,  the  young  "ariBtoc- 
racy,"  chiefly  members  of  the  Jockey  Club,  whose  mia- 
tresses  were  in  the  corps  de  ballet,  and  who  angiily 
resented  the  refusal  to  provide  theii  habitual  ballet  in 
the  second  act.  Suppose,  they  reasoned,  Tannhduaer 
should  be  a  sueceasi  then  this  stupid  opera  would  be 
given  week  after  weeh,  month  after  month,  and  they 
would  have  to  go,  night  after  night,  without  the  only 
feature  in  an  operatic  performance  which  interested 
them.  This,  of  course,  was  not  to  be  tolerated.  The 
would-be  reformer  of  the  opera  must  be  punished, 
crushed,  exterminated. 

It  is  needless  to  describe  the  performances,  the  first  of 
which  occurred  on  March  13,  1S61,  in  detail,  or  to  point 
out  what  numbers  the  conspirators  had  previously  agreed 
to  pass  by,  and  on  which  to  combine  their  demonstrations. 
On  the  first  evening  the  opposition  marred  various  pas- 
sages by  outbursts  of  derisive  laughter  and  other  ex- 
pressions of  ill-will)  but  the  public,  anxious  to  hear  the 
much-taUced-about  opera,  endeavored  to  suppress  the 
cabal  by  means  of  counter- demonstrations  of  applause, 
so  that  the  general  result  was  undecided.  This  induced 
the  opposition  to  redouble  its  efforts  on  the  second  even- 
ing. The  members  of  the  Jockey  Club  bought  a  number 
of  penny  whistles  with  which  to  enforce  their  sentiments. 
Up  to  their  usual  time  of  arrival,  about  the  middle  of 
the  second  act,  all  had  been  quiet,  except  that  certain 
tnnefnl  numbers  had  been  applauded;  when  suddenly 
an  infernal  tumult  broke  loose  and  continued  to  the  end 
of  the  opera  with  such  persistent  malignity  that  most  of 
the  music  was  drowned  in  the  noise  ("  I  know  not  if  it 


80  ly  PARIS  AQMN 

was  even  sung,"  Baudelaire  remarks  of  TannhSuaer's 
narrative). 

Apart  from  these  cabals,  the  audience  behaved  in  a 
most  honorable  manner,  as  Wagner  himself  testifies. 
Its  love  of  justice  and  fair-play  were  abundantly  demon- 
strated, and  to  see  it  espousing  the  cause  of  bia  much- 
maligned  music,  defending  it,  hour  after  hour,  with 
salvos  of  applause  and  efforts  to  down  the  noisy  clique, 
filled  him  with  feelings  of  warm  gratitude.  But  its  ap- 
plause, hisses  at  the  boxes,  and  cries  of  "throw  the 
Jockeys  out  doors,"  had  no  more  effect  than  the  efforts 
of  the  Emperor  and  Empress  to  preserve  peace  by  their 
intercession  and  demonstrative  applause.  The  battle 
was  lost;  the  Jockey  Club  had  done  its  work  well;  its 
hirelings  had  not  only  insulted  the  composer  and  the 
singers,  but  members  of  the  audience,  including  the  com- 
poser's wife  and  the  Princess  von  Metternich.  To  end 
these  insults,  Wagner  decided  to  withdraw  the  opera, 
but  finally  consented  to  a  third  performance  on  condi- 
tion that  it  be  given  on  a  Sunday,  when  the  "aristo- 
cratic "  subscribers  would  not  occupy  their  boxes,  thus 
giving  the  public  at  large  an  opportunity  to  hear  Tann- 
kauser.  But  the  Jockey  ruffians,  fearing  that  in  their 
absence  the  opera  might  win  a  pronounced  and  irrevo- 
cable success,  attended,  contrary  to  their  custom,  this 
Sunday  performance,  with  all  their  hirelings,  and  the 
resulting  tumult  was  even  greater  than  before,  the  em- 
bittered audience,  frustrated  in  its  desire  to  hear  the 
opera,  being  restrained  from  acts  of  personal  violence 
against  the  vnlgar  offenders  only  by  the  high  rank  of 
the  "aristocratic  "  rowdies  who  led  the  attack. 
Director  Eoyer  had  apparently  been  under  the  impres- 


TANNHAUaZn  AND  THE  JOCKEY  CLUB       81 

sion,  after  the  first  performance,  that  the  derisive  laugh- 
ter which  followed  certain  numbers  was  excited  by  the 
music  itself,  and  he  had  therefore  induced  the  composer, 
though  with  difficulty,  to  cancel  some  of  the  finest 
passages  in  the  opera,  including  the  young  shepherd's 
quaint  melody,  the  return  of  Venus,  and  the  hunting 
horns  with  the  dogs!  It  was,  of  course,  useless  trouble; 
the  cause  of  the  demonstrations  was  not  the  music  or 
the  dogs,  but  the  absence  of  a  ballet.^ 

After  the  second  performance  Eoyer  could  no  longer 
affect  blindness  as  to  the  real  casus  beUi:  he  asked  for 
more  ''cuts,''  in  order  to  save  time  to  introduce  a  ballet, 
on  his  own  responsibility,  in  the  second  act.  Wagner's 
reply  was  in  a  tone  of  resignation.  ''  Consider  me  as  if 
I  were  dead,*  and  do  whatever  you  please,"  was  the  sub- 
stance of  it.  He  had  lost  all  interest  in  the  affair,  and 
did  not  attend  the  third  performance  at  all.  The  "  Ideal- 
istin  "  above  referred  to  relates  that  after  this  third  per- 
formance she  met  some  of  her  friends  in  the  foyer  and 
went  to  Wagner's  house.  It  was  past  two  o'clock  when 
they  arrived,  but  they  found  the  composer  and  his  wife 
calmly  at  their  supper. 

*'  He  received  the  news  of  the  third  and  most  violent  battle  of 
all  with  a  smile,  and  joked  with  Olga,  saying  be  had  heard  that  she 
had  hissed  his  music.  But  by  the  trembling  of  the  hand  he  held 
out  to  me  I  felt  that  he  was  deeply  agitated.    Although  all  the  dis- 

1  **  These  poor  dogs,"  says  M.  Jallien,  **  that  had  aroused  the  indig- 
nation of  fastidious  spectators,  and  served  as  a  pretext  for  some  high- 
toned  commonplaces,  contributed  singularly,  some,  time  later,  to  the 
success  of  a  grand  drama.  La  Jeunesse  du  Roi  Henri,  by  Lambert  Thi- 
boust  and  Ponson  du  Terrail,  which  was  produced  in  1864  at  the  ChAtelet 
Theatre.  The  authors  had  simply  borrowed  Wagner's  idea,  and  had 
•very  reason  to  congratulate  themselves  for  so  doing." 


82  ly  PARIS  AOAJS 

grace  of  Ihis  proceeding  fell  back  on  iU  perpetratore,  sUU,  one  more 
liijpe  of  the  composer  was  gone,  and  the  rough  path  of  life  wliich 
never  seemed  to  grow  amootber,  again  la;  before  him  In  iU  dimnal 
and  tortunuB  windings." 

On  the  following  morning  the  Director  received  this 

letter : — 

"  Since  tlie  memberB  of  the  Jockey  Club  are  not  willing  to  penult 
the  Parisian  public  to  bear  my  opera  at  the  Imperial  Academy  of 
MuHie,  except  on  condition  of  having  a  ballet  at  the  usual  hour  of 
their  appearance  in  the  theatre,  I  hereby  withdraw  my  bcotb  and 
beg  you  to  tiave  the  kindnesa  to  commimicaU  to  his  Excellency  the 
MiniKt«r  of  State  my  resolution,  with  which  I  believe  I  afaall  deliver 
bini  from  a  very  erobarrasaing  position," 

Count  Walewsky  and  Director  Eoyer,  aiter  discussing 
the  situation,  came  to  the  concluaion  that,  .although  the 
contract  did  not  allow  the  composer  thus  to  witbdiaw 
his  work  at  will,  they  would  accede  to  his  request;  SO 
they  shelved  the  opera,  though  with  reluctance,  because 
it  promised  to  be  one  of  the  greatest  financial  successes 
ever  witnessed  at  the  Imperial  Academy.  The  receipts 
for  the  first  evening  had  been  7491  francs;  of  the 
second,  8415;  of  the  third  10764;  fabulous  prices  were 
paid  for  some  of  the  tickets  resold.  Hundreds  of  persons 
were  unable  to  get  in,  and  there  were  enough  bookings 
to  sell  out  the  house  for  many  performances  ahead.  The 
extra  expenses  of  this  opera  bad  amounted  to  about 
$20,000;  much  of  this  was  a  dead  loss,  although  the 
costumes  and  mise-en-schie  were  afterwards  partly  used 
in  Meyerbeer  and  other  operas. 

The  loss  to  the  poor  composer  was  a  more  serious 
matter.  Financial  ruin  was  again  staring  in  his  face. 
True,  he  was  no  longer  likely  to  stand  face  to  face  with 


TAXXSAVSES  AJTD  TBS  JOCKXT  CLUB       8S 

absolute  starvation,  as  he  had  stood  in  the  same  city 
twenty  years  before,  when  the  foundation  was  laid  foi 
those  stomach  troubles  which  made  him  suffer  so  much 
for  the  rest  of  his  life,  and  so  greatly  diminished  his 
power  of  working;  but  poverty  had  long  before  the  event 
just  related  forced  him  to  give  up  his  pleasant  residence 
and  seek  a  domicile  where  his  health  had  to  suffer  and 
domestic  enjoyment  was  out  of  the  question.  The 
"  Idealistin  "  relates  that  when  she  returned  to  Paris,  in 
1861,  she  found  the  Wagner  fomily 

"DO  longer  in  the  plBu&nt  little  home  of  the  preoedlng  winter, 
bat  in  the  Moond  stoiy  of  a  large  house  inhabited  by  man;  ftml- 
lles,  la  one  of  Uie  noisiest,  darkest  streets  of  Paris.  This  change 
had  been  made  from  pecuniary  necesBltles.  It  cat  inta  my  heart 
deeply  ta  see  this.  I  felt  how  terrible  it  most  be  for  Wagner  ta 
lire  In  so  uncongenial  a  dwelling." 

If  Tannh&nter  had  not  been  deliberately  driven  off 
the  stage  by  a  pack  of  ruffians,  he  would  have  been  able 
to  recover  his  financial  balance  in  a  few  months.  Ac- 
cording to  the  custom  at  the  Op^ra,  he  was  to  receive  500 
francs  for  each  performance,  half  of  which,  for  the  first 
twenty  evenings  was  to  go  to  the  translators;  as  but 
three  performances  were  given,  he  received  750  francs 
(C150)  for  about  a  year's  hard  and  wearing  work  and 
worry  t  This  is  at  the  rate  of  almost  half  a  dollar  a  day. 
Of  course  it  was  all  bis  own  &ult.  He  was  a  German 
composer,  and  as  sach  he  had  no  right  to  expect  more 
than  fifty  cents  a  day.  ■  The  main  thing  waa  that  the 
Jockey  Club  bad  had  its  fun.  Bull-fighting  was  for- 
bidden in  Paris  at  that  time,  on  the  ground  of  cruelty; 
but  composer-baiting  —  ah,  that  is  i^uite  another  aSa.ii  I 


m  PARIS  AG  Ant 


THE  PABIS   VERSION 

.         were,  nevertheless,  a  few  consoling  features 

Ibis  operatic  disaster.     The  Emperor  and  Empress 

tied  liis    friends,   and   were   willing   to   use  their 

■   ti  'piice  to  prevent  further  disturbances.     Thousands 

eased  sincere  disappointment  at  the  withdrawal  of 

.      opera.     A  petition  protesting  ag&inst  the  outrage 

which    eminent   writers    pronounced  a  national   dis- 

was  li:inded  around  and  signed  by  many  muai- 

.  artists,  and  men  of    letters.     There  was  even  a 

oiect  to  build  a.  special  tlieatre  for  the  performance  of 
Wacner'a  works  and  other  good  operas,  abandoning  the 
Grand  Op6r<i  to  the  Jockey  Club  and  their  dancing  mis- 
treases.     Hut  \Vagner  had  no  desire  to  make   further 

efforts not  only  on  account  of  the  attendant  annoyances 

and  waste  of  time,  but  because  be  felt  that  lie  could  not 
hope  for  ^  satisfactory  interpretation  of  his  opera  under 
given  ci  re  u  in  stanches.  Indeed,  in  the  letter  which  he 
wrote  on  the  day  following  the  third  performance  (VTI. 

jg7j aremarkably  impartial,  diguified,  and  impressive 

document  —  lie  uses  as  an  unction  for  his  wound  the 
thought  tliat  after  all  Tannliduser  could  not  have  won  a 
A^utne  success,  as  a  music -dram  a,  liecause  the  perfor- 
mance, as  a  whole,  was  so  poor;  so  that  the  ill  wind  blew 
this  good  that  the  disturbance  concealed  from  the  audi- 
ence tlie  inadequacy  of  the  interpretation. 

Furthermore,  tlie  Paris  Tannhuuser  year  cannot  be  pro- 
nounced a  complete  loss  in  its  author's  life,  for  it  gave 
rise  to  that  superb  essay  on  Music  of  the  Future,  and  the 
still  more  superb  additions  to  the  score  which  are  referred 
to  as  the  "  Paris  version "  of   Tannhduser,  which  haii 


THE  PARIS  VERSION  85 

been  introduced,  within  the  last  few  years,  at  the  leading 
German  opera-houses  with  such  brilliant  financial  and 
artistic  results.  The  whole  score  was  touched  up,  here 
and  there,  the  vocal  contest  in  the  second  act  shortened 
and  improved.  But  the  principal  changes  were  in  the 
first  act.  The  shortened  overture  leads  into  the  magnifi- 
cently heathen  and  orgiastic  Bacchanale,  the  most  tumul- 
tuous, dissonant,  and  delirious  composition  ever  written 
—  but  how  admirably  suited  to  the  situation  !  —  the  wild 
revelry  of  the  bacchantes,  the  cupids  in  the  air  shooting 
love-poisoned  arrows,  the  rape  of  Europa,  the  decoy  song 
of  the  sirens,  Leda  and  the  swan,  and  the  other  scenes 
previously  described.  We  may  realize  the  voluptuous 
fancies  of  an  opium-eater,  without  the  bad  after-effects, 
by  simply  listening  to  this  ballet  music  —  if  it  be  proper 
to  apply  this  term  to  a  composition  which  is  as  superior 
to  ordinary  ballet  music  as  a  symphony  is  to  a  quadrille. 
Objection  has  been  made  to  the  mixture  of  Wagner's 
"  second  and  third  styles  "  in  the  Paris  version  of  Tann- 
Tiduser,  and  there  is  no  doubt  some  force  in  it;  what  we 
must  regret,  however,  is  not  that  the  first  scene  was 
rewritten  in  the  Tristan  style,  but  that  the  composer, 
instead  of  wasting  a  year  on  the  Parisians,  did  not 
employ  his  time  in  rewriting  the  whole  of  TannMTiser 
in  the  Tristan  style;  retaining  the  motives,  but  elabo- 
rating them  in  the  much  more  finished  polyphonic  and 
orchestral  art  of  his  '^ third  style,"  as  he  did  in  the  new 
duo  and  the  Bacchanale.^ 

^  I  koow  of  no  task  more  fascinating  and  instractiye  than  a  minata 
compariBon  of  the  old  Tannhduser  with  the  Paris  version ;  noting  how 
an  altered  rhythm  here,  a  new  modalation  there,  changes  the  character 
of  the  melody,  and  gives  the  words  (which  in  some  cases  were  altered 
too)  a  deeper  dramatic  import;  how  the  musical  motives  are  repeated 


JiV  PABIS  AGAiy 


FRENCH   POETS   VERSUS  CMTICB 

Another  pleasant  result  of  the  TannMuaer  episode 
was  the  evidence  it  once  more  afforded  that  the  men 
of  genius  were  always  the  first  champions  of  Wagner 
against  the  professional  critics  and  Philistines.  I  shall 
not  waste  space  by  quoting  from  the  countless  venomous 
and  silly  articles  written  before  and  after  the  Wagner 
concerts  and  the  Tnnnhauser  representation;  the  follow- 
ing judgment  of  an  eminent  French  critic  of  our  period, 
M.  Jullien,  on  his  colleagues  of  thirty  years  ago  sums 
up  the  situation  from  a  French  point  of  view;  — 

"ThU  whole  TanahSiuer  affair,  from  wbatever  point  of  view 
we  regard  it,  is  anylhing  but  honorable  for  ua.  Bui  the  saddest 
purl  nf  it  is  ni>t  the  iiifomaJ  row  ploiwd  by  high-livere  aft«r  their 
dinner-cup  and  before  their  supper,  but  ttiu  attitude  of  the  prem, 
which  waa  not  like  the  others  a  dependent  of  the  corps  de  ballet, 
but  naively  fancied  itself  face  to  face  witli  an  execrable  work,  and 
of  a  chance  coziiposer.  The  newspapers  vied  with  each  other  in  » 
course  of  abuse,  a  tourjiament  of  ignorance,  and  for  weeks,  long 
even  aft*r  llie  composer  had  fled  from  I'aris,  they  abused  tlie  work 
and  vilifled  the  man  with  unprecedented  violence." 

In  the  long  list  of  critics  there  were  only  a  few  hon- 
orable exceptions,  who  treated  Wagner  like  judges  and 

and  combineil  n-itli  the  suhlle  psycholoj^c  art  of  the  Tristan  style ;  how 
muirti  wariniT,  richer,  and  more  passionate  the  orcliestral  coloring  Iim 
bocoine ;  and,  most  slmiiticaot  ot  all,  the  thrilling  use  made  of  a  theme 
derived  from  the  wjiit;  of  the  sirens,  and  developed  by  tlie  use  o(  Trii- 
taneiqiir  hjirmonifs,  into  full  SBplUng  trombone  chords  that  alrikingly 
BUgBBBt  the  love-music  in  Trinliin.  It  is  heard  the  moment  the  intoit- 
cAled  bacchantes  on  the  stage  rush  into  the  arms  of  their  lovers.  The 
reeemblance  is  not  a  mere  unconscious  reminiscence  ol  the  TrUtan 
style,  but  has,  as  the  tender  need  not  be  told,  a  psychologic  stgnlficaDcs, 
based  on  amorDus  affinity. 


TRENCH  POETS  VEB8U8  CRITICS  87 

gentlemen;  among  them  were  Beyer^  Weber^  Franck- 
Marie^  and  Grasp^rini.  But  Wagner's  most  interesting 
French  champions  were  the  poets,  who  took  up  the 
cudgels  in  his  behalf;  nor  was  it  surprising,  as  Baude- 
laire wrote,  that  "  men  of  letters,  in  particular,  should 
show  their  sympathy  with  a  musician  who  glories  in 
being  a  poet  and  a  dramaturgist."  Several  years  before 
TannhdtLser  was  produced  in  Paris,  the  greatest  literary 
artist  among  French  poets,  Th^phile  Grautier,  had  heard 
some  of  Wagner's  music  in  Germany  and  was  delighted 
with  it;  he  found  it  "full  of  melody,  even  Italian  mel- 
ody," of  "great  beauty,"  "irresistibly  effective,"  and  ex- 
presses a  wish  that  Tannhduser  should  be  performed 
in  Paris.  Gerard  de  Nerval  heard  Lohengrin  at  Weimar, 
in  1850,  and  wrote  a  favorable  account  of  it,  dwelling 
on  the  growing  appreciation  following  repeated  hearing. 
We  have  seen  how  the  poet  Roche  welcomed  Wagner  to 
Paris,  and  became  his  translator.  Champfleury  promised 
the  assistance  of  his  pen  if  needed,  and  nobly  kept  his 
promise  in  newspaper  articles  and  in  a  pamphlet  wherein 
he  defended  his  friend  against  some  absurd  charges,  and 
described  the  effect  of  his  works  on  him ;  also  his  per- 
sonal appearance,  the  chin  being,  in  his  opinion,  his  most 
characteristic  feature.  He  declares  that  his  music  fills 
him  "with  joy  and  enthusiasm  ";  and  he  adds  a  few  bio- 
graphic facts  which  lead  him  to  exclaim :  "  I  search  but 
find  nowhere  a  martyr  comparable  to  Wagner." 

Of  all  the  French  poets  Baudelaire  wrote  most  inter- 
estingly of  the  German  poet-musician.  His  seventy- 
page  pamphlet  Richard  Wagner  et  Tannhduser  d  Paris 
is  one  of  the  most  valuable  of  all  contributions  to  the 
extremely  voluminous  literature  on  its  subject.     Ho 


88  IX  PASia  AGAIN 

relates  that  after  the  first  hearing  of  this  music  it  seemed 
to  him  as  if  a  spiritual  chauge  bad  been  worked  in  him; 
"  it  was  a  revelation."  He  went  about  everywhere  seek- 
ing opportunities  to  hear  more  of  it,  to  read  about  it; 
the  mysterious  repetitions  of  themes  (Leading  Motives) 
fascinated  him  especially,  as  a  striking  novelty  with 
a  deep  significance;  and  he  purchased  the  scores  in  order 
to  study  and  solve  the  mystery.  He  defends  Wagner 
against  the  absurd  charge  that  his  works  are  the  result 
of  "reflection"  instead  of  "inspiration,"  All  great 
poets  must  be  critics,  he  says;  and  he  asks,  pertinently, 
whether  Leonardo  da  Vinci,  Hogarth,  and  Eeynolds 
were  less  great  painters  because  they  also  analyzed  the 
principles  of  their  art.  He  points  out  the  astounding 
combination  of  titanic  power  with  refined  subtlety  in 
this  music,  the  nervous  intensity,  the  violent  paesion- 
ateness- 

"  Wagner  resembles  the  antique  writers  by  the  passionate  energy 
of  his  utterances,  and  he  ia  to-day  the  truest  representative  of  the 
modem  world.  Will,  desire,  concentration,  nervous  iotenaity,  ei- 
plosiveneaa,  are  manifested  in  all  his  works.  I  helieve  that  neither 
am  I  mistaken  myself  nor  shall  1  mislead  any  one  if  1  affirm  that 
these  are  the  principal  characteristics  of  the  phenomenon  we  call 
genius." 

He  sums  up  the  various  causes  which  led  to  the  fall  of 
Tannkiiuser,  and  points  out  the  absurdity  of  calling  it  a 
"failure":  "  Tannkiiuser  was  not  even  heard." 

BERLIOZ,   ADBER,   AND   EOSSINI 

Of  the  Parisian  professional  critics  Berlioz  is  the  only 
one  on  whose  attitude  it  is  worth  while  to  dwell  here ;  not 


BERLIOZ,  AUBEB,  AND  B088INI  89 

only  becaase,  though  ignored  as  a  composer^  he  was  looked 
on  as  the  most  influential  and  formidable  of  the  musical 
critics^  but  because  he  had  been  a  personal  friend  of 
Wagner  and  was  supposed,  by  public  opinion,  to  be  his 
follower  or  colleague.  His  extraordinary  antics  on  this 
occasion  proved  a  source  of  mortification  to  his  own 
friends,  and  of  joy  to  the  enemies  of  TannMtiaer  and  its 
author. 

These  two  revolutionary  composers  met  occasionally 
during  Wagner's  first  sojourn  in  Paris,  and  it  will  be 
remembered  that  Berlioz  made  &Yorable  mention,  in 
one  of  his  f euilletons,  of  the  noyelette,  A  Pilgrimage  to 
Beethoven,  Louis  de  Fourcaud  relates  that  when  Ber- 
lioz called  on  Wagner  the  first  time,  he  found  his  own 
treatise  on  Instrumentation  lying  on  the  table,  and  was 
so  much  pleased  and  moved  thereby  that  he  warmly 
embraced  his  German  colleague.  In  Dresden,  a  year  or 
two  later,  just  after  Wagner  had  been  appointed  royal 
conductor,  Berlioz  arrived  to  give  some  concerts;  his 
friend's  first  of&cial  act,  as  Berlioz  himself  relates,  was 
to  assist  in  arranging  these  concerts,  ''which  he  did  with 
zeal  and  hearty  good  will."  Eight  years  later  Wagner 
had  occasion,  in  his  Opera  and  Drama,  to  discuss  Ber- 
lioz's talent  (III.  348-350),  which  he  describes  as  "an 
enormous  musical  intelligence,"  inspired  by  "a  truly 
artistic  and  consuming  aspiration."  His  great  achieve- 
ment, he  says,  is  the  development  of  orchestral  resources, 
which  he  carried  to  a  "miraculous  "  point;  but  he  went 
too  &r:  he  enabled  a  musician  to  dress  up  the  most 
empty  and  inartistic  material  in  such  a  way  as  to  pro- 
duce an  astounding  effect.  In  a  word,  the  author  of 
Opera  and  Dram^  mixed  up  praise  and  censurei  precisely 


80  IN  PARIS  AGAIN 

aa  Berlioz  had  done  in  describing  Rienxi  and  the  Dutch- 
nan,  when  he  hebrd  them  at  Dresden. 

Liazt  vas  a  grmt  ftdmira  at  BtcUoi^  ilor  wbne  «p«w 
he  made  the  same  eflbtto  wX  Waimar  u  for  'Wi^ti'i, 
bat  with  less  satisfkotoiy'  zomlti.  la'  the  kttan  from 
which  we  hare  bo  offeea  quoted  tiiare  ace  ft«i—t  lef- 
etences  to  Beilios.  On  Sept  Z,  ISSS^  Wegnar  vittee: 
"Believe  me,  I  lews  Beclioi,  even  tiuni^  Iw  sftMi  me 
suspicioosly  and  obstinate^:  he  taunn  lae  iiitti-*>biib  I 
know  Aim.  If  there  is  one  of  whom  I  have  e»pMatioM, 
it  is  Berlioz;  not  on  the  road  I7  which  he  arrived  at  ^ 
absurdities  of  the  Fawi  sympbxmy,"  bat  Iry  wrjMiig  nal 
music'dramas  prepared  for  him  Ify  a  po^  in  plpia  of 
his  own  concoctions  from  Goethe  and  flhatoepeaie. 
Berlioz,  for  his  part,  wrote  to  Liszt  that  he  had  not  read 
the  critique  on  him  in  Opera  and  Drama,  and  would 
not  resent  it  in  the  least,  as  lie  himself  had  fired  too 
many  pistol-shots  to  mind  being  used  as  an  occasional 
target.  In  1855,  when  Berlioz  and  Wagner  conducted 
the  two  Philharmonic  Societies  in  London,  they  fre- 
quently met,  and  Wagner  wrote  that  he  would  "bring 
one  aoquisition  from  England  —  a  cordial  and  intimate 
feeling  of  friendship  with  Berlioz,  which  is  recipro- 
cated." Berlioz  again  wrote  to  Liszt  (quoted  in  No. 
122) :  "  Wagner  attracts  me  remarkably,  and  if  we  an 
both  eccentric,  our  eccentricities  at  any  rate  run  in  par- 
allel lines  "  (he  adds  an  amusing  sketch  of  these  "  eccen- 
tric lines  ").  Wagner  made  cfEorts  to  secure  Berlioz's 
scores  through  the  composer;  but  as  he  publisher  would 
not  grant  any  more  complimentary  copies,  he  foiled  to 
get  them.  In  1856  Berlioz  heard  Lo?iengrin  at  Weimar. 
He  possessed  the  score  and  wrote  to  its  composer  at 


BERLIOZ,  AUBEB,  AND  ROSSINI  91 

Ztirich,  begging  for  the  Tannhdvser  score  to  add  to  it, 
promising  some  of  his  own  works  in  return.  I  mention 
these  facts  in  order  to  show  that  Berlioz  had  plenty  of 
opportunities  to  become  acquainted  with  his  friend's 
works.  How  he  profited  by  these  opportunities,  and 
what  he  did  in  return  for  the  "zeal  and  hearty  good 
will "  with  which  Wagner  had  helped  him  in  Dresden, 
we  shall  now  see,  going  back,  for  a  moment,  to  the  three 
Paris  concerts  and  Tannhduser. 

Berlioz  commented  on  these  concerts  in  the  Journal 
dea  D&kUb,  He  spoke  well  of  some  of  the  pieces,  espe* 
cially  the  introductions  to  the  first  and  third  acts  of 
Lohengrin;  whereas  the  Tristan  prelude  he  confessed  he 
did  not  comprehend:  "I  have  read  this  strange  page, 
and  reread  it;  I  have  listened  to  it  with  the  deepest  at- 
tention, and  a  lively  desire  to  discover  its  meaning:  well, 
I  must  confess,  I  have  not  yet  the  slightest  idea  of  what 
the  composer  wanted  to  say."  So  far  Berlioz  was  above 
reproach  and  simply  doing  his  duty  as  a  critic.  But  this 
criticism  is  followed  by  a  long  and  most  ridiculous  ar- 
raignment of  the  "music  of  the  future,''  written  after  a 
method  that  would  do  honor  to  a  Greek  sophist.  He  puts 
two  cases:  (1)  if  the  music  of  the  future  means  such 
and  such  things,  —  here  he  enumerates  a  number  of 
principles  to  which  any  conscientious  composer,  past, 
present,  or  future,  must  necessarily  subscribe,  —  then  I 
believe  in  it;  (2)  but  if  the  music  of  the  future  means 
such  and  such  things,  —  here  he  mentions  maxims  like 
these:  one  must  break  all  rules;  use  no  melody;  mal- 
treat the  ear;  use  atrocious  modulations;  pay  no  regard 
to  singers,  and  use  only  the  most  difficult  and  ugly  inter- 
vals; etc.,  — then,  he  says,  I  do  not  believe  in  it.  "  Non 
Credo  J' 


92  m  PARIS  AOAllt 

Note  how  slyly  thia  is  put;  he  does  not  say  that  Wag- 
ner represents  this  latter  kind  of  "music  of  the  future," 
but  no  one  can  help  reading  it  between  the  lines.  The 
whole  journalistic  world,  as  a  matter  of  coarse,  took  this 
Noil  Credo  as  a  vicious  attack  on  Wagner,  and  it  contrib- 
uted more  than  anything  else  to  the  disgraceful  exhibi- 
tion the  Parisian  critics  made  of  themselves  over  the 
TannhduseT  episode, 

Like  everjbody  else,  Wagner  took  this  2fbn  Credo  as 
a  personal  attack  on  himself  —  an  unprovoked  stab  in 
the  back  by  one  whom  he  supposed  to  be  a  friend.  He 
accordingly  wrote  in  the  same  paper,  a  reply  which 
every  one  who  wishes  to  realize  how  much  nobler  and 
more  sincere  a  character  Wagner  was  than  Berlioz  should 
read  (reprinted  in  VII.  59).  Pathetic  are  the  words  in 
which  he  explains  why  he  came  to  Paris:  — 

"For  eleven  years  [t  has  been  impossible  for  me  lo  hear  my 
own  works,  and  I  shudder  at  the  thought  of  remaining  any  longer 
perhaps  the  only  German  who  has  not  heard  my  Lohengrin.  Not 
ambition,  nor  a  desire  to  popularize  my  operaa,  were  therefore  the 
motives  which  induced  me  to  seek  French  hospitality,"  etc. 

He  goes  on  to  explain  that  he  himself  never  dreamed 
of  founding  a  new  school  of  music  and  calling  it  the 
"music  of  the  future,"  as  so  many  —  including,  to  his 
surprise,  even  Berlioz  —  seemed  to  imagine;  that  term 
was  invented  for  derisive  purjKises  by  Professor  Bisch- 
off  of  Cologne.  In  conclusion,  he  expresses  his  re- 
grets at  having  ever  written  any  theoretical  treatises; 
for  if  even  Berlioz,  a  specialist  and  colleague,  so  grossly 
misunderstood  and  misreported  him,  what  could  be  ex- 
pected of  the  general  public* 


<n 


BERLIOZ,  AUBER,  AND  ROSSINI  98 

No  attention  was,  of  course,  paid  by  the  journalists  to 
this  reply,  except  that  it  was  pronounced  "  ill-advised '' 
and  "egotistic,"  while  Berlioz,  in  true  Parisian  style, 
tried  to  turn  the  matter  into  a  joke  by  saying  that  fie  was 
worse  off  than  Wagner,  since,  if  the  latter  was  the  only 
one  who  had  not  heard  his  operas,  he  himself  was  the 
only  one  who  had  heard  his.  And  now  note  his  tactics 
over  the  Tannhduser  affair.  If  jealousy  alone  can  have 
inspired  his  Non  Credo,  this  feeling  was  intensified  a 
hundredfold  by  the  announcement  of  the  acceptance  of 
Wagner's  score  at  the  Grand  Op^ra.  He  had  been  hop- 
ing that  his  Trayena  would  be  selected  —  and  now  the 
choice  had  fallen  on  this  foreign  opera!  He  was  so 
angry  that  he  did  not  trust  himself  to  write  about 
the  Tannh&uaer  performance,  but  engaged  a  friend  to 
do  it  for  him.  His  private  letters,  however,  give  a 
ghastly  insight  into  the  incredible  malevolence  and 
spite  which  jealousy  was  able  to  excite  in  this  com- 
poser: — 

**  Wagner  is  turning  the  singers,  the  orchestra,  and  chorus  of  the 
Opera  into  goats.  .  .  .  The  last  general  rehearsal  was  atrocious, 
it  is  said,  and  did  not  end  before  one  in  the  morning.*'  **  Every 
one  I  see  is  Infuriated ;  the  Minister  of  State  came  from  a  rehearsal 
the  other  day  in  an  angry  mood.  .  .  .  Wagner  is  evidently  a  fool. 
...  I  allowed  d*Ortigue  to  write  my  article  ;  I  wish  to  protest  by 
my  silence,  ready  to  speak  later  if  pushed  to  if  After  the  first 
performance :  **  What  outbursts  of  laughter  1  The  Parisian  showed 
himself  to-day  in  an  entirely  new  aspect;  he  laughed  at  a  bad 
musical  style,  at  the  capers  of  a  burlesque  orchestra ;  he  laughed 
at  the  naivetes  of  an  oboe ;  ...  as  for  the  horrors,  they  were 
splendidly  hissed.*'  After  the  second  performance :  **  Worse  than 
the  first.  The  audience  did  not  laugh  any  more  ;  it  was  furious ;  it 
hissed  enough  to  break  up  everything,  in  spite  of  the  presence  of 
the  Emperor  and  Empress.  .  .  T    When  Wagner  went  down  tlie 


94  m  PARIS  AOAIir 

suircaw,  the  unfortunite  man  was  opcrnly  treated  as  a  scamp,  an 
Insolent  feitow,  aii  idlol.     As  for  niyMir,  1  am  truelli/  aceng»d." 

And  this  BerlioE,  in  public  opinion,  carefully  fostered 
by  iinsfnipnious  scribblers,  is  oue  of  the  composers 
wliom  Wagner  "  abused  "  and  "  maltreated  "  I 

From  this  disgusting  spectacle  of  jealous  spite  let  us 
turn  for  a  moment  to  two  other  composers  whom  Wagner 
met  at  this  time  in  Paris.  He  relates  how  one  evening 
he  met  Auber,  who  inquired  about  the  subject  of  Tann- 
hiiuser.  After  the  story  had  been  briefly  told  him,  he 
replied;  "Ah,  there  will  be  something  to  seel  that 
means  a  succl'sb,  you  may  feel  assured."  "What  he 
Hnally  thought  of  my  Ttxnnhduaer,"  he  adds,  "  I  have  not 
lieard.  I  assume  he  'understood  not  a  word  of  it.'" 
Tiiis  guess  seems  to  have  been  near  the  mark;  at  any 
rate,  the  newspitpers  reported  two  "  bon-mots  "  of  Auber : 
"  Wagner  ia  Herlioz  without  melody  "  ( !)  and  hia  music 
is  "like  reading,  without  stopping  to  take  breath,  a  book 
that  lias  no  commas  or  periods." 

To  Kossini,  also,  various  bon-mots  were  attributed  and 
industriously  circulated  in  France,  England,  and  Ger- 
luitny.  He  was  reported  to  have  served  an  admirer  of 
Wagner's  at  dinner  with  sauce  without  fish,  saying  that 
that  must  be  acceptable  to  one  who  liked  harmony  with- 
out melody.  He  was  also  reported  to  have  said  to 
Wagner,  when  the  latter  protested  that  he  did  not  in- 
tend to  annihilate  all  the  great  men  of  the  past,  "Ah, 
my  dear  Mr,  Wagner,  if  you  could  do  that  I"  One  fine 
day,  however,  Rossini  became  angry  at  these  silly  "  jokes  " 
fathered  on  him,  and  wrote  a  letter  to  a  Paris  journal 
disclaiming  them,  protesting  against  the  "malicious 
hoax,"  and  ezolaiming  that  he  did  not  presume  to  pass 


n 


BXBLIOZ,  AUBBB,  AND  BOBSISI  95 

judgment  on  Wafer's  musio,  since  he  liad  nerer  beard 
any  of  it  except  a  maroh,  which  he  liked  very  well. 
This  letter  appeared  in  the  paper  it  was  addressed  to, 
but  the  other  papers,  which  had  chuckled  over  the 
apocryphal  jokes,  ignored  it  absolutely,  as  was  their 
wont;  BO  the  "  bon-mots  "  in  question  have  continued  to 
oircnlate  as  BoBsiui's  down  to  the  present  day.  Nay 
more:  the  Philistiue  insolence  which  fancies  itself  so 
superior  to  genius,  has  endeavored  to  show  that  W^- 
ner  acted  like  a  dunce  in  face  of  Rossini  and  his  wit. 
Wagner  relates  (VIII.  279)  that  Bossini's  letter,  in 
which  he  piotested  against  having  such  silly  "witti- 
cisms "  attributed  to  him,  made  such  a  pleasant  impreasioa 
on  him  that  he  called  on  his  colleague  to  exchange  senti- 
ments. Bossini  remarked  that  he  felt  conscious  of  hav- 
ing talent,  and  that  he  might  have  done  something  worth 
while  (arriver  &  quelque  chose)  under  favorable  circum- 
stances (if,  for  inatance,  he  had  lived  in  Germany) ;  but 
the  operatic  conditions  in  Italy  were  such  as  to  counter- 
act and  suppress  all  efforts  aiming  at  a  higher  art  ideal; 
with  other  remarks  to  the  same  effect.  One  of  Wagner's 
French  biographers,  M.  Jullien,  after  referring  to  these 
utterances,  remarks  that  Rossini,  seeing  Winner  ready 
to  swallow  this  "irony,"  enlarged  on  the  subject  with- 
out his  visitor's  "suspecting  the  farce  for  a  moment. 
One  cannot  be  more  cruel  —  nor  more  naif." 

It  is  worth  while  to  expose  the  silly  insolence  of  this 
comment,  which  has  passed  into  several  other  books.  In 
the  first  place,  Rossini  was  a  gentleman,  and  gentlemen 
do  not  quiz  their  visitors.  Secondly,  a  man  of  Wag- 
ner's powers  of  sarcasm  and  keen  sense  of  humor  could 
not  have  been  taken  in  for  a  moment  if  Bossini  had  been 


96  IS  PARIS  AQAIS 

so  ill-mannered  aa  to  try  to  make  fun  of  him.  Thirdly, 
if  Rossini  had  spoken  ironically,  the  joke  would  be  all 
on  him ;  for  he  is  to-day  little  but  a  name  and  a  memory 
in  the  musical  world,  and  the  opinion  of  himself  which 
he  gave  to  hia  visitor  is  the  one  now  accepted  everyvihere. 
He  was  a  man  of  geniuB,  who,  in  a  less  shallow  field  than 
that  of  Italian  opera,  might  have  created  immortal  maa- 
terworks;  but  in  Italy,  where  every  carnival  demanded 
a  new  opera,  usually  written  in  a  few  weeks,  at^e  com- 
positions could  hardly  have  more  than  an  ephemeral 
value.  Hence  it  is  natural  to  find  that  hia  only  opera 
which  is  likely  to  survive  his  century,  Tell,  was  written 
for  Paris ;  hut  even  there  the  conditions  were  unfavora- 
ble; Tell  was  shamefully  mutilated  and  maltreated,  and 
this  is  no  doultt  the  main  reason  why  Rossini  did  not 
write  anotlier  opera  for  the  remaining  thirty-nine  years 
of  hia  life:  he  found  no  reco^ition  for  the  beiter  quali- 
ties of  hia  genius,  and  not  being,  like  Wagner,  a  hero 
who  waa  willing  to  fight  for  the  recognition  of  these 
qualities,  he  stopped  composing  altogether.  His  biog- 
raphers have  preserved  remarks  of  his,  similar  to  that 
which  ho  addressed  to  Wagner,  showing  tliat  he  was 
quite  aware  that  much  of  his  work  was  ephemeral.  Hia 
teacher,  moreover,  used  to  call  him  the  "little  German," 
because  of  hia  love  of  Haydn  and  Mozart;  and  later  on 
we  find  him  attempting  to  introduce  Mozartean  reforms 
in  Italian  opera  —  which,  however,  were  received  with 
almost  as  violent  opposition  as  Wagner's  reforms  were 
in  Germany  and  elsewhere.  As  one  of  his  biographers, 
Mr.  Joseph  Bennett  (surely  not  a  prejudiced  witness  in 
this  case)  exclaims :  "  To  what  heights  might  the  author 
of  Wiiliam  Teli  have  risen  had  his  early  yaars  been  spent 


BXBHOZ,  AUBSB,  ASD  BOSSISI 


97 


amid  a  people  less  tolerant  of  abeurdities ! "  This  is 
what  Bossini  referred  to  in  bis  "  ironic  "  conversation 
with  Wagner.  And  the  moral  of  this  little  tale  is  that 
an  attempt  to  make  out  that  Wagner  was  a  fool  is  very 
apt  to  take  the  direction  of  a  boomerang. 


KING  LUDWIG  FINDS  WAONBS 

Ik  commentii^  on  Wagner's  diffiooltiefl  is  London^ 
and  his  reported  res^ination  u  FlulhumaBio  oondnetor, 
I  spoke  of  the  fact  that  the  Qermans  at  home  ohtkAled 
gleefully  over  the  disoomfitnre  of  one  of  their  oouifciy 
men  abroad,  where  other  nations  woold  hare  felt  an- 
noyed if  not  indignant.  The  same  noble  German  tiait 
came  to  the  front  during  and  after  the  TannhUtuer  row. 
Among  the  most  ill-mannered  rowdies  who  prevented 
the  gentleman  and  ladies  in  the  Op^ra  from  hearing  that 
vork  were  not  a  few  Germans;  and  prominent  among 
the  critical  mud-alingers  was  the  German,  Albert  Wolff, 
who,  for  the  thirty  years  following,  devot«d  his  wit  to 
attempts  to  turn  his  countryman's  personality  and  musio 
to  ridicule  and  contempt,  in  the  columns  of  the  Figaro. 
As  regards  the  Germans  at  home,  the  Frankfurier  Convef 
aationsblatl  wrote :  "  German  newspapers  have  made  haste 
to  intone  over  the  fall  of  a  German  in  Paris  songs  of 
joy,  full  of  open  or  disguised  scorn,  and  hollow  tirades." 
True,  when,  after  his  long  exile,  he  returned  to  his 
fatherland,  the  crowded  spectators  at  such  performances 
of  his  operas  as  he  chose  to  attend,  almost  broke  their 
necks  trying  to  cateh  a  glimpse  of  him  —  just  as  they 
would  have  done  in  case  of  a  notorious  murderer  in  a 
court-room.     But  real  sympathy,  sympathy  that  is  will- 


18  TBISTAX  IMPOSSIBLE  f  99 

ing  to  make  some  sacrifices  i  la  Liszt,  and  that  wonld 
have  enablMl  him  to  realize  his  art-ideaU,  was  nowhere 
to  be  found. 

15  TBISTAK  mposSIBLE? 

In  a  preceding  page  I  stated  that  the  real  motive  that 
took  Wagner  to  Paris  was  the  hope  of  bringing  about  a 
model  performance  of  Trittan;  to  this  he  intended  to 
inrite  German  managers  and  conductors,  to  whose  tender 
mercies  he  might  then  be  able  to  give  up  his  music- 
diuna  with  some  hopes  of  attaining  correct  perform- 
ances. When  he  found  that  even  TannkauMr  could  not 
jet  be  acclimated  on  French  soil,  he  saw  the  folly  of 
hoping  anything  for  Trittan,  so  he  returned  to  Germany 
as  the  only  conntry  where  his  desire  could  possibly  be 
gratified.  There  were  hopes  that  Weimar  might  under- 
take to  bring  oat  Tristan;  Prague  also  coquetted  with 
tite  idea;  but  these  plans  came  to  nai^ht.  The  Duke 
of  Bftden  (to  whom  the  score  is  dedicated)  was  still 
fitTOtsble  to  the  project,  but  Schnorr  and  his  wife  had 
left  Karlsruhe,  and  with  their  successors  the  convietion 
Boon  gained  ground  that  Triatan  was  "impossible,"  as 
Dingelstedt  had  also  pronounced  it  at  WViiuur.  and 
had  even  offered  to  wager  with  Liszt  that  it  cuuld  not 
be  performed  anywhere  else.  >'iemanQ  bad  told  Wag- 
ner that  be  believed  the  King  of  Hanover  would  be 
inclined  to  undertake  a  model  performauce  of  the  new 
work,  but  thia  also  led  to  no  results.  Dresden  was  still 
fliosed,  for  political  reasons;  at  Berlin  and  Munich  the 
managers  and  conductors  were  hostile;  there  remained 
only  Vienna,  and  the  Opera  there  seemed  indeed  the 
best  place  for  the  experiment:  "It  has  better  singers 


..  Oil  .way  9,  ItSGl.     Tweiity-nii 
since    his   first  visit  to    tliis    '' Asii 
returned  four  years  sooner,  he  would 
in  a  city  where  not  one  of  his  opera 
formed!    Let  me  repeat  this  extr£ 
more  striking  form :   Vienna  did  not 
Wagner^a  operas  till  he  toas  forty-four 
composed  RienziyDutchmauy  Tanrihduei 
goldj  WdOciire,  half  of  Siegfried,  and  c 
but  three  of  his  works  I     It  seems  inc 
other  (German  capitals,  Munich  and 
the  same  predicament.     In  reading 
despair  in  the  impoverished  Wagner's 
to  bear  these  astounding  facts  in  mint 
did  at  last  hear  Tannhduser  (1857),  i 
Imperial  Opera,  but  at  a  suburban  theat 
objections  (the  references  to  the  Pope 
kept  it  quarantined  from  the  Imperial 
grin  was  the  first  to  be  given  at  thif 
Tannhduser  followed  in  1859.     Both  h 
with  enthusiasm,  although  it  is  charact 
that  Nestroy's  parody  of  Tannhduser  n 
fifth  performance  before  the  opera  itsel 
Shortly  before  going  to  Vienna,  Wa 
to  Praeger  from  Karlsruhe :  — 

"  Was  ever  work  like  mine  r.rpof«''  ' 


IS  TBI8TAS  IMFOBBIBESr    -  101 

of  thlt  I  («el  poaitive ;  yea,  m  pmKItb  u  that  I  lirq,  uid  tbU  ia, 
my  Trittan  and  Itolde,  with  which  I  am  now  coamimed)  does  not 
find  Its  equal  In  the  world's  library  of  miuic.  Oh,  how  I  yt»iu  to 
hear  it ;  I  am  feveriBh ;  I  feel  worn ;  perhaps  that  causes  ma  t3  be 
agitated  and  anxloos,  but  my  Trittaa  has  been  SnEshed  now  UtMe 
three  yean  and  baa  not  been  heard.  When  I  think  of  thia  I  wonder 
whether  it  will  be  with  this  as  with  Lohengrin,  which  now  ia  thir- 
teen years  old,  and  has  been  as  dead  to  me.  But  the  dotida  aeem 
breaking,  are  breaking.  ...  I  am  going  to  Vienna  soon.  There 
they  are  going  to  give  me  a  snrpriae.  It  Is  supposed  to  be  kept  a 
secret  from  me,  but  a  friend  has  iDformed  me  ttiej  are  going  to 
bring  out  Lohengrin.^' 

Three  days  after  hia  arrival  in  Vienna  this  special 
performance  of  Lohengrin  took  place  —  the  first  the 
composer  himself  had  ever  heard,  thirteen  years  after 
the  creation  of  the  operal  It  was  of  course  a  gala  night, 
singers  and  players  did  their  very  best,  the  house  was 
crowded,  the  applause  tumultuous;  after  each  act  all 
eyes  were  turned  toward  the  box  where  the  composer  satj 
again  and  again  he  had  to  bow  his  acknowledgments, 
and  at  the  close  he  was  called  before  the  curtain  three 
times  and  made  a  brief  speech  of  thanks.  Ia  his  later 
writings  he  repeatedly  refers  to  this  "  intoxicating  May 
night,"  but  notea  also  the  characteristic  fact  that,  with 
all  this  enthusiasm  in  the  air,  he  was,  nevertheless, 
unable  to  secure  a  few  rehearsals  at  which  he  wished  to 
correct  some  errors  in  the  interpretation!  Always  the 
same  story  I  As  a  whole,  however,  the  performance  had 
been  good  enough  to  inspire  him  anew  with  the  belief 
that  Vienna  was  the  proper  place  for  Tristan;  and  when 
the  score  was  formally  accepted,  his  heart  leaped  once 
more  with  joy  at  the  thought  that  at  last  his  prospects 
looked  brighter.     Alas!  the  everlasting  alas! 


102 


Siyo  LUDWIG  FINDS   WAGNER 


The. 'rehearsals  were  to  begin  in  the  autumn  (1S61), 

but  .tfepy  were  fniatrated  by  a  long  UlneBS  of  the  tenor 

^Wdtr,   In  the  following  summer  Ander  had  seemingly  re- 

ijoyered  his  voice,  and  the  outlook  wa«  (^ain  bright.    The 

■  .  rest  of  the  story  may  be  told  in  Wagner's  own  words : '  — 

"  RTcr  Bince  the  first  procrBAtination  of  the  Tristan  rebearsaJg, 
tlie  musical  press  of  Vienna  had  found  its  favorite  occupation  in 
the  attempt  to  prove  tiiat  a.  perionnauce  of  my  work  wag  impoasi- 
ble  under  any  circumstances.  Ttiat  no  singer  could  hit  on  my 
notes,  or  remember  them  —  this  assertion  became  the  motto  of  all 
who  reported,  wrote,  and  spoke  about  me,  in  any  part  of  Qermany. 
A  French  Tocalisl.  a  great  one,  it  is  true,  Madame  Viardot,  ex- 
pressed her  surprise  to  me  one  day,  that  it  was  possible  for  the 
German  artists  to  make  such  assertions  about  the  impossibility  of 
singing  this  and  that ;  she  asked  If  musical  people  were  not  musi' 
cians  in  Germany  as  elsewhere  ?  Well,  to  this  I  knew  not  just 
what  to  reply,  especially  In  face  of  a  songstress  who  had  onoe,  in 
Paris,  sung  a  whole  act  of  UoleU  at  sight.  As  a  matter  of  tact,  my 
German  singers  were  not  so  incompetent  as  report  made  them :  my 
Viennese  singers,  also,  guided  by  the  uncommonly  intelligent  eHorta 
and  zeal  of  my  esteemed  friend.  Kapellmeister  F.sser,  at  last  gave 
me  the  great  pleasure  of  singing  the  whole  opera  faultlessly  and 
effectively  to  a  pianoforte  accompanimenl.  How  it  could  have  got 
into  their  heads,  later  on,  to  assert  tliat  tliey  could  not  tcarn  their 
rule)  —  for  this  was  reported  tu  me  —  remains  a  riddle  to  me,  with 
the  solution  of  which  I  will  not  fatigue  my  head :  perhaps  it  was 
done  lo  please  our  famous  musical  critics  of  Vienna  and  other 
cities,  who  were  so  astoundingly  anxious  to  prove  that  my  work 
was  impossible,  and  who  would  have  felt  positively  insulted  if  a 
(lerformance  had  succeeded  nevertheless.  I'erhaps,  again,  all  that 
was  reported  to  me  is  imtrue  ;  anything  is  possible,  for  the  doings 
ot  our  press  are  often  anything  bm  Christian."  ^ 

1  BajirfulhtT  Blmer.  18D0,  p.  17li. 

'  Obviously  Wagner  here  bad  in  mind,  among  others,  Dr,  Hanalick, 
who  felt  called  upon  to  defend  himself  {Muiikal.  Skizieniuch,  p.  7) 
liy  saying  that  tenor  Ander  himself  told  him  that  "  by  the  lime  be  had 


o 


WHT  WAQNSB  GAVE  CONCERTS  108 

Whatever  may  have  been  the  cause  of  the  pcratpone- 
ment  of  TrMan,  the  fact  remaioB  that  its  performance 
was  finally  abandoned  as  "  impossible  "  —  after  fifl^- 
fonr  rehearsals  (Nov.  9,  1862,  to  March  24,  1863);  and 
it  wu  not  till  twenty  years  later  (Oct.  4,  1883)  that  Tris- 
tan had  its  first  performance  in  Vienna  I 

WHY  WAGNEB  GAVB  COKCERTS 
The  composer  of  Tristan  was  at  Moscow  when  he  re- 
ceived notice  from  Vienna  that  that  work  had  been  aban- 
doned. He  was  hardly  surprised.  "To  be  frank,"  he 
says,  "  I  was  tired  of  the  matter,  and  thought  no  more 
about  it."  But  what  was  he  doing  in  Russia?  Trying 
to  earn  his  bread  and  butter.  He  had  commenced  the 
compoeition  of  Die  MeiaterBinger  and  was  very  anxious 
to  continue  it.  But  one  cannot  live  by  writing  musical 
"notes,"  which  no  one  is  willing  to  honor.  His  early 
operas  were  being  sung  everjrwhere,  but  in  most  cities 
the  small  honorarium  (340  to  about  S240)  due  at  the 
first  performance  had  long  since  been  paid  and  used  up; 
tantiemes  he  received  in  only  a  few  cases,  and  in  these 
they  amounted  to  a  mere  pittance,  while  in  the  large 
cities  his  operas  were  systematically  and  purposely  per- 

leuned  the  second  act  he  had  nj^n  torgotWo  the  first,"  But  what  of 
that?  Ander,  being  an  ordinary  uneducated  singer,  could  not  know 
mneh  about  the  hUtory  oF  mnstc;  could  not  know  ihat  the  notions  as 
towhat  Is  possible  in  vocal  mnslc  had  olten  changed;  could  not  know. 
for  Instance,  that  Mozart's  Don  Jaan  had  been  given  up  at  Floreaco 
after  thirty-eiz  rehearsals  as  "impossible."  But  professional  critics 
wbo  pose  as  blstoriaos  of  music  ought  to  know  such  things,  and  ought 
to  enconrage  despoodent  artists,  mstead  of  banging  like  rnill-stones 
around  the  neck  of  muflical  progress,  crying  "  iinpoaaible  "  at  every  new 
manifeatAtion  of  creative  genius.  The  fact  that  Trittan  and  Uolde  waa 
tn  ISOO-lSSl  snng  at  thirteen  German  cities  shows  bow  "  impossible  "  a 
work  it  Is  and  whal  an  acnie  Judge  of  vocal  music  Dr.  Hanslick  waa. 


104  EIIfG  LUDWIG  FINDS   WAGNER 

formed  as  poorly  and  as  seldom  as  possible,  thanks  to 
the  effort'^  of  such  influential  enemies  as  HSlsea,  Lach- 
ner,  etc.  He  was  forced  to  do  something  to  make  a 
living,  and  in  view  of  the  enthusiastic  demonstrations  at 
the  special  performance  of  Lohengrin  it  was  natural  to 
suppose  that  a  few  concerts  in  Vienna  and  other  cities 
might  benefit  hia  exchequer  and  at  the  same  time  call 
attention  to  his  later  works.  In  January,  1863,  while  the 
Tristan  rehearsals  were  still  in  progress,  he  therefore 
gave  three  concerts  in  Vienna,  at  which  selections  from 
Rheingold,  Watkiire,  Siegfried,  and  the  Meiatersinger  were 
played.  Great  enthusiasm  was  aroused  by  some  of  these 
selections,  especially  by  Siegraund'a  Love  Song,  the 
Magic  Fire  Scene,  the  Ride  of  the  Valkyries,  and  the 
university  students  made  a  special  demonstration  in 
favor  of  the  "music  of  the  future." 

These  concerts  were  subsequently  repeated,  under  the 
composer's  direction,  at  Prague,  Pesth,  Karlsruhe,  Leip- 
zig, and  other  German  cities,  Berlin  was  passed  by; 
not  entirely,  however,  for  Wagner  had  a  wish  to  see 
Tntendant  Hiilsijn,  with  a  view,  apparently,  of  discuss- 
ing a  possible  first  Meislerainger  performance;  but  he 
was  informed  that  Hiilsen  would  not  receive  him!  At 
Leipzig,  his  birthplace,  he  did  give  a  concert,  but  had 
reason  to  regret  it;  the  public  simply  left  the  house 
empty,     Leipzig  was  still  a  Mendelssohn  town. 

Even  Russia  was  included,  as  we  have  intimated,  in 
this  concert  tour.  Four  concerts  were  given  at  St.  Peters- 
burg, one  of  which  was  entirely  devoted  to  his  own  com- 
positions. Here  he  found  ardent  champions  in  Seroff 
and  other  members  of  the  young  Kussian  school;  and 
here,  he  exclaims  (VIII.  310)  "the   miracle  happened 


WHY  WAQSKB  GAVE  C0NCKBT8  105 

tibat  for  the  first  time  in  my  experience  the  newspapers 
receired  me  as  favorably  as  the  public."  What  is  more 
important  still,  these  concerts  at  St.  Petersborg  (and  at 
Moscow)  were  the  only  ones  which  brought  tiie  hard- 
working composer  a  pecuniary  profit.  It  is  worth  while 
to  reflect  for  a  moment,  and  connect  these  last  two  &cts. 
They  explain  clearly  why  Wagner  could  not  earn  an 
honest  penny  in  Grermany  by  giving  concerts.  The 
critics,  with  hardly  any  exceptions,  persisted  in  declar- 
ing his  music  void  of  form  and  melody,  while  at  the 
same  time  the  public  was  demanding  repetitions  of  this 
''formless"  Nibelung  music  in  the  concert-halls.  The 
public,  I  say;  but  it  was  a  small  public;  the  large,  the 
paying  public,  took  its  cue  from  the  newspapers  and 
refused  to  risk  its  money  on  music  whichrthe  critics  and 
feuilletonists  described  as  ''formless  and  void  of  mel- 
ody." It  fills  one's  heart  with  bitterness  to  think  that 
if  it  had  not  been  for  these  "critical "  dunces,  Wagner 
might  have  been  able  to  devote  all  his  time  to  composi- 
tion, in  which  case  operatic  literature  would  have  been 
enriched  by  several  more  masterworks  like  Tristan  and 
Die  Meittersinger.  These  critics  could  not  kill  Wagner's 
music,  but  they  showed  that  they  were  able  to  retard 
musical  progress,  poison  the  life  of  a  genius,  and  de- 
prive the  world  of  several  immortal  compositions. 

Nor  is  this  all.  Insult  was  added  to  injury.  When 
Wagner  began  giving  selections  from  his  later  operas  in 
concert-halls,  the  critics  pounced  on  him  for  his  "  incon- 
sistency." "Here  is  a  man,"  they  exclaimed,  "who  has 
proved,  in  elaborate  theoretic  treatises,  that  his  dra- 
matic music  can  be  justly  appreciated  only  in  its  proper 
place  in  the  theatre,  in  connection  with  action,  words, 


106 


KtyO  LUDWIG  FISDS  WAGNBS 


and  scenery  i  yet  now  he  goes  about  the  oountry  playing 
fra^ests  from  bis  music-dramas."  It  is  impossible  to 
conceive  anything  more  spiteful  and  omel  than  this 
attitude  of  the  press,  maintained  persistently  for  many 
years,  against  a  poor  artist  driven  against  his  own  will 
and  conviction  to  give  these  concerts  for  the  purpose  of 
earning  his  living,  and  of  bringing  to  public  notice  his 
new  operas  which  the  managers  refused  to  perform. 

In  the  biography  of  the  eminent  Vienneije  conductor, 
Johann  Herbeck,  by  his  son,  there  is  printed,  among 
other  interesting  letters  from  Wagner,  one  which  illus- 
trates how  unwilling  he  was,  at  first,  to  produce  even 
independent  orchestral  portions  of  his  music-dramas  in 
the  concert-hall.  Herbeck  had  written  for  permission 
to  give  the  Tristan  prelude  at  a  concert.  Wagner's 
reply  (dat«d  Paris,  Oct.  12,  1859)  was:  "The  score  of 
Tristan  will  shortly  appear  in  print.  A  preliminary 
performance  of  the  orchestral  prelude  was  given  even 
at  Leipzig  against  my  will:  as  soon  as  you  make  the 
acquaintance  of  this  piece,  you  will  certainly  understand 
why  I  cannot  consider  it  suited  for  concert  perform- 
ance." But  Herbeck  was  not  to  be  put  off.  He  called 
attention  to  the  fact  that  the  performances  of  the  pre- 
lude already  given  at  Prague  under  Billow's  direction 
and  at  Leipzig  under  Liszt's  had  been  attended  by  very 
great  success,  and  adds:  — 

"  Now,  since  a  performance  of  thia  piece  has  taken  place  two 
months  ago  against  your  will,  coulil  you,  honored  Sir,  perhaps  per- 
mit VieoTia  to  form  tlie  Ihird  in  the  robber  trio,  which  exploits 
another's  property  against  the  rightful  owner's  will  ?  "  ' 

1  H«re  we  see  how  the  imporlunlty  of  friends  combinad  with  pecuni- 
ftiy  and  ftrtiBtlc  necessity  In  forcing  him  to  produce  selections  from  his 


COMPOSmON  OF  THE  MEI8TKESISGMR      107 


OOMPOBinOK  OF  THE  MEI8TEB8IKOSB 

Amid  the  distractions  and  annoyances  of  the  Tristan 
rehearsals  and  the  concert  tours,  Wagner  found  time 
occasionaUy  to  devote  a  few  days  to  his  new  operatic 
project,  Die  Meitteninger.  It  will  be  remembered  that 
he  oonceiyed  and  sketched  the  plot  of  this  opera  at  a 
Bohemian  summer  resort,  in  the  happy  mood  which 
followed  the  completion  of  Tannk&user.  About  the 
same  time  the  LoTiengrin  subject  had  forced  itself  on  his 
mind,  and  caused  him  to  give  up,  or  rather  to  postpone, 
the  comic-opera  plan.  Sixteen  years  later  it  began  to 
ferment  again  in  his  brain.  It  is  probable  that  the  diffi- 
culties he  experienced  with  Tristan  recalled  to  his  mem- 
ory the  advice  of  Dresden  friends  that  a  comic  opera 
would  appeal  to  the  public  more  forcibly  than  a  tragedy. 
Strange  to  say,  it  was  after  the  depressing  events  follow- 
ing the  Tannhdiiser  catastrophe  that  the  humorous  poem 
of  this  opera  was  written,  at  Paris,  to  which  he  had 

nmsio-dnuiims  in  the  concert-hall.  "Half  a  loaf  is  better  than  no 
bread/' one  might  say;  bat  the  pnblic  was  dnd  is  very  far  from  look- 
ing at  Wagner  selections  in  the  concert-hall  as  "  half  a  loaf."  On  the 
contrary,  it  prefers  them  even  to  the  "whole  loafs"  of  most  other 
oompoeerSy  baked  expressly  for  concert  consumption.  This  is  tme 
especially  of  oonntries  where  there  are  few  or  no  opportunities  to  hear 
Wagner's  dramas  on  the  stage.  In  London  the  Hans  Richter  concerts 
haye  for  years  been  the  most  popolar  and  successful  of  all  orchestral 
entertainments;  and  the  programmes,  as  everybody  knows,  are  made 
op  almost  entirely  of  Wagner  and  Beethoven,  with  a  decided  preponder- 
ance of  Wagner.  A  glance  at  Mr.  G.  H.  Wilson's  Musical  Year  Book 
of  the  United  States  for  the  last  few  years,  shows  that  in  America 
Wagner  has  more  performances  at  orchestral  concerts  than  any  other 
composer ;  and  although  I  have  no  definite  French  statistics,  I  have  a 
sospicion  that  the  same  statement  might  be  made  regarding  concerts 
in  Paris. 


COMPOSITION  OF  THE  MBI8TEB8INQEB      109 

score  at  concerts,  he  now  determined  to  issue  the  poem; 
namely,  because  it  would  help  to  call  attention  to  his 
Tetralogy,  and  thus  carry  on  an  agitation  which  might 
ultimately  help  him  to  realize  the  execution  of  his  gigan- 
tic enterprise.  The  poem  is  accompanied  by  two  short 
but  extremely  interesting  autobiographic  and  critical 
sketches  —  a  Preface  and  an  Epilogue  giving  an  account 
of  the  circumstances  attending  the  conception,  execution, 
and  further  adventures  of  the  Nibelung  poems  up  to  the 
time  of  their  appearance  in  print.  The  biographic  details 
herein  contained  have  been  given  in  preceding  pages,  in 
their  proper  places;  it  only  remains  for  us  to  note  here 
that  the  Preface  contains  a  concise  and  graphic  descrip- 
tion of  a  projected  Nibelung  Festival,  such  as  was  real- 
ized in  Bayreuth  fourteen  years  later,  with  all  the 
essential  details  —  a  special  theatre,  with  amphitheatric 
auditorium;  an  invisible  orchestra;  afternoon  perform- 
ances, with  long  intermissions  for  lunch  and  recreation; 
leading  singers  devoted  solely  to  the  task  of  interpreting 
a  new  national  Grerman  style  of  musico-dramatic  art,  etc. 
But  for  such  a  stage  festival  a  considerable  sum  would 
be  needed.  How  could  these  funds  be  provided?  By 
means  of  a  subscription  among  wealthy  amateurs?  He 
could  see  little  chance  in  this  direction,  and  the  only 
hope  lay  in  the  possibility  that  some  German  sovereign 
might  decide  to  devote  to  this  new  national  art  some  of 
the  money  that  was  so  freely  squandered  on  the  flimsy 
operatic  performances  of  the  x>criod.  Wird  dieser  FUrst 
sick  ftndenf    Will  this  monarch  be  found? 

Those  were  the  weightiest  words  Bichard  Wagner  ever 
wrote;  they  were  destined  to  turn  the  wheel  of  fortune, 
and  ehange  the  current  of  his  whole  life.    But  when  he 


( 


%«      •  A  LA.  1 


reading  public.  To  have  it  attract  the  noti 
will  not  be  easy,  since  it  has  no  real  mark 
puts  away  the  '  opera-text '  as  concerning  tl 
musician  will  put  it  away  because  he  cannot 
can  set  such  a  poem  to  music.  The  public  p. 
decided  in  my  favor,  asks  for  the  *  Act.*  T 
power." 

About  this  time  he  also  wrote  an  es 
Court  Opera-Housey  with  many  pra 
which  he  hoped  might  be  heeded  in  tl 
the  new  opera-house  then  in  course  < 
house  he  probably  had  in  mind,  too,  ^ 
offer  to  write  a  new  opera  especially 
which  offer,  as  he  relates  (VI.  383),  th 

**  well-considered  answer  was  returned  in  i 
present,  it  was  thou^^t  the  name  'Wagner*  hat 
Uon,  and  that  it  was  considered  well  to  give  a 
opportunity.  This  other  composer  was  Jao 
actually  was  asked  about  this  time  to  write  a : 
for  Vienna." 

A  few  more  concerts  were  undertake 
elsewhere,  at  one  of  which  Tausig  ap 
applause  continued  to  be  more  abun( 
ceipts.     A  serenade  given  him  by  the 


-TA 


tr»       ^•*^  "■ 


aOXS  ISBTASTAXXOUB  PBOTOOBAPHa      111 

not  improTe  his  material  positioD.  Debts  vera  again 
orerwhelmiag  him;  be  found  he  had  to  give  up  his  resi- 
dence at  Penzing  neai  Vienna.  But  where  should  he 
go?  Would  it  not  be  better  to  give  up  the  hopeless 
atmggle,  Uirow  his  artistic  work  aside  forever,  and  try 
to  earn  hia  living  some  other  and  better  way?  He  seri- 
ously contemplated  accompanying  an  English  family  to 
India  as  a  tutor.  But  the  thought  of  his  unfinished  score 
deterred  him.  After  completing  Die  Meiaterainger,  how- 
ever, he  determined  to  go  to  St.  Petersburg,  where  he 
had  been  so  well  received,  and  make  that  his  home  for 
the  remainder  of  his  life ;  and  if  that  should  fail  to  meet 
his  expectations,  he  intended  to  join  his  relatives  in 
Oermany  and  lead  a  quiet  retired  life. 

SOME  mSTANTANBOnS  FHOTOGBAPHB 

But  the  MeUtersinger  must  first  be  completed.  Where? 
Switzerland,  where  his  last  four  scores  had  been  written, 
naturally  suggested  itself  as  the  best  place,  especially 
since  the  summer  was  coming  on.  But  his  ZCirich  home 
was  no  more;  his  wife  had  left  him.  In  this  emergency 
it  occurred  to  him  to  seek  refuge  for  a  while  under  the 
always  hospitable  roof  of  his  Mariafeld  friends,  the 
Willes.  He  wrote  a  letter  describing  his  situation,  and 
asking  if  a  workroom  could  be  placed  at  his  disposal, 
either  in  the  main  building  or  the  outhouse:  "some 
furniture  is  still  in  my  posseaaion,  and  could  be  used. 
For  the  rest,  I  ask  only  board  and  service.  In  every 
other  way  I  shall  try  to  avoid  being  a  burden." 

The  letter  was  followed  by  the  writer  so  rapidly  that 
Fr&u  Wille  bad  hardly  found  time  to  arrange  the  guest- 


pit- ceuing  tiie  day  when  King  Ludwig 
ger  to  find  Wagner,  the  latter  was  thus  J 
of  an  intellectual  woman,  a  novelist,  ^ 
his  greatness,  and  not  only  could  give  1 
and  home  life  he  needed,  but  was  wise  e 
some  of  his  remarks  and  doings  on  si 
of  which,  in  1886,  she  constructed  par 
Rundachau  articles  to  which  reference  1 
peatedly  in  preceding  pages.     To  Frai 
owe  a  number  of  most  interesting  inst 
graphs  of  the  period  when  part  of  the  A 
was  written,  besides  a  number  of  invalu 
Wagner  regarding  his  first  meetings 
which  for  the  fijrst  time  enable  the  bi( 
details  about  this  interesting  period. 

Frau  Wille  took  care  that  her  dist 
should  have  ererything  arranged  to  suit 

**  He  wanted  to  work,  to  be  ondistarbed,  anc 
him  servants  for  his  own  use.  Many  vlBitors  fr 
here  by  cariosity  or  sympathy,  when  the  ne? 
famous  man  was  at  Mariafeld,  were  turned  aw] 
was  not  in  a  mood  to  submit  to  such  interruptic 
received  many  letters ;  he  begged  me  to  pay  m 
to  let  him  eat  alone  in  his  room,  if  that  did  not 
my  domestic  arrangements.    It  was  a  pleasure  1 


BOMX  aSTANTANEOVa  PE0T00BAPH8     118 

walkg.  I  can  still  see  him  walking  up  and  down  oar  garden  ter- 
race, in  his  bro¥ni  velvet  gown,  with  the  black  biretta  as  headdress, 
as  if  he  were  one  of  the  patricians  painted  by  Albrecht  Dtirer.** 

He  was  in  the  kind  of  a  mood,  Frau  Wille  remarks, 
that  will  lead  a  son  to  confide  to  bis  mother.  Her 
efforts  to  console  him  with  the  reflection  that  it  is  the 
lot  of  great  men  to  suffer  from  annoyances,  great  and 
small,  were  received  with  a  good-natured  smile.  One 
day  he  remarked  to  her:  "My  friend,  you  do  not  know 
the  extent  of  my  sufferings,  the  depth  of  the  misery  that 
lies  before  me.''  There  were  hours  when  the  bitterest 
invectiye  against  his  fate  came  from  his  lips;  but  there 
were  also  days  when  he  indulged  in  pleasant  reminis- 
cences of  his  younger  days :  — 

**  Thus  the  sun  shone  on  many  a  fine  day  when  Wagner  felt 
disposed  to  come  to  my  family  room.  All  who  were  near  him 
know  how  warmhearted  and  amiable  he  could  be.  The  sons  by  the 
side  of  their  mother  received  his  kindest  attention.  ...  He  knew 
how  to  tease  and  how  to  tell  stories  delightfully.  He  had  been 
pleased  with  Vienna ;  he  called  it  the  only  musical  German  city. 
His  house  in  Fenzing  had  been  neatly  furnished,  to  suit  his  taste. 
He  told  of  the  two  servants,  man  and  wife,  who  had  taken  good 
care  of  him,  also  of  the  large  dog,  the  splendid  faithful  animal, 
which  he  missed  here.  But  the  happy  mood  did  not  last.  Letters 
came  which  put  an  end  to  his  good  humor.  He  retired  to  the  soli- 
tude of  his  room,  and  when  he  saw  me  alone,  his  heart  would  over- 
flow in  words  that  rarely  took  a  hopeful  view  of  the  future.** 

One  evening,  as  he  was  sitting  by  the  window  gazing 
at  the  setting  sun,  Frau  Wille  tried  to  console  him  by 
painting  to  his  fancy  pictures  of  a  happy  future  which 
seemed  certain  to  come.     Wagner  replied:  — 

**  How  can  you  talk  of  a  future,  when  my  manuscripts  are  locked 
up  in  my  desk  1    Who  is  to  bring  out  the  art-work  which  only  I 


114  EINO  LUDWIG  FINDS   WAONEB 

with  the  co-operation  of  propitious  deities  can  produce,  «)  that  all 
the  vrnrld  maj  see  how  It  la,  bow  die  master  HW  and  wauled  hia 

In  great  agitation  he  walked  up  and  down  the  room. 
Suddenly  lie  stoud  still  and  said:  — 

"  I  am  differently  organized  from  others,  have  sensitive  nerves, 
must  have  heauty,  splendor,  and  light  I  I  cannot  be  content  with 
the  miserable  position  ol  an  organist,  like  our  Master  Bach.  Is  it 
really  sucli  au  ouira^ous  demand  if  I  claim  a  rij^t  to  the  little  bit 
of  luxury  which  I  like  —  I,  who  am  preparing  enjoyment  for  Uie 
world  and  (or  lliousands  I " 

As  be  said  this,  his  head  waa  raised  defiantly ;  then  he 
sank  again  into  the  armchair,  gazing  at  the  setting  sun. 

He  related  one  morning  a  dream  that  had  harassed 
him  all  uigiit:  Amid  lightning  and  storm  he  had  roamed 
all  night  over  the  heath;  he  himself  was  King  Lear. 
The  fool  sang  mocking  tunes,  the  poor  beggar  Edgar 
whined  that  he  was  cold.  Lear  with  his  royal  soul  flung 
his  curse  into  the  night  and  storm,  and  felt  great  and 
wretched  but  not  humiliated.  "  What  say  you,  my 
friend,  to  such  an  experience  where  a  man  feels  himself 
identified  with  the  fancies  of  his  dreams?  " 

Of  his  music-drama  he  spoke  seldom;  but  one  day  he 
hinted  at  the  autobiographic  aspect  of  Die  Meistersinger, 
and  added :  "  The  world  will  be  astounded  when  it  hears 
the  tones  and  chords  which  I  sound  in  honor  of  the  Mas- 
tersinger!  —  Energy  and  seriousness  are  my  attributes  — 
Thoroughly  Oennan  is  my  Hans  Sachs,  as  much  so  as 
the  amiable  burgher  who  sang  the  noble  aong  of  the 
Wittenberg  nightingale  in  honor  of  your  Luther.  —  My 
Mastersinger  you  shall  hold  in  honor!"  When  Frau 
Wille  told  him  of  the  deep  impression  once  made  on 


SEPARATION  FROM  MINHA  115 

her  by  Bach's  Passion,  he  suddenly  exclaimed:  '^Tou 
poor  woman,  why  have  I  not  played  for  you  all  this 
time?  This  very  day  you  shall  hear  what  will  please 
you  ''j  and  he  played  the  love-duo  from  Tristan,  From 
that  day  he  occasionally  came  to  her  parlor  and  played 
on  the  grand,  which  he  liked  better  than  the  ordinary 
piano  in  his  room.  Thus  it  happened  that  his  hostess 
was  privileged  to  be  the  first  mortal  to  hear  some  of  the 
sublime  strains  of  Die  Meistersinger:  — 

**  One  morning  majestic  chords  came  to  me  in  my  sitting-room 
from  the  salon.  I  opened  the  door  softly,  and  held  my  breath,  to 
hear  what  came,  as  it  were,  directly  from  the  master^s  first  cast. 
Nothing  could  have  induced  me  to  interrupt  him.  It  was  as  if  I 
felt  directly  the  power  of  a  great  artist's  mastery  over  a  refractory 
material.  What  was  it  that  so  mightily  agitated  my  fancy  and 
spirit?  First  darkness  —  suddenly  a  ray  of  light — then  like  a 
flash  of  lightning,  joy  illumines  the  soul.  —  Silently  as  I  had  come 
I  went.  I  never  told  Wagner  of  the  impression  made  on  me  by 
what  I  had  heard.  A  few  days  later  he  begged  me  to  follow  him 
to  his  room.  He  showed  me  manuscripts  lying  in  portfolios,  and 
devoted  the  whole  evening  to  me.  I  admired  the  handwriting,  the 
elegant  copies,  —  and  most  of  all  the  sketches  made  with  extremely 
small  notes,  —  there  they  lay  like  flowers  of  beauty  in  the  bud.  I 
looked  at  the  man  who  had  power  to  create  such  riches,  with  mixed 
feeling  of  awe  and  admiration.'* 

SEPARATION  FROM  MINNA 

The  reader  has  probably  wondered  repeatedly  why,  in 
the  narrative  of  the  last  few  years'  events  in  Austria, 
Germany,  and  Switzerland,  no  mention  has  been  made 
of  Minna.  The  reason  is  a  simple  one :  she  had  left  the 
composer,  and,  although  not  divorced,  the  two  were 
separated  for  life.     Their  last  months  together  were 


•^v^x^V^LllC 


a  iiLLie  rational  in  her  old  age/' 

In  Paris  she  had  once  more  to  share  a 
ness  and  the  perpetual  disappointments 
his  life^  and  less  than  ever  could  she  c 
he  should  not  be  "  practical ''  and  pay  si 
"  gallery ''  as  made  success  so  easy  f oi 
they  had  but  a  tithe  of  his  ability.  An 
and  frequent  visitor^  the  "Idealistin" 
ferred  to,  remarks:  — 

**  Fraa  Wagner  wished  to  mediate  by  demand 
oonoeesiona  to  the  worid  which  he  could  not,  must 
this  complete  inability  to  understand  the  nature 
relations  to  the  world,  there  resulted  almoet  daily 
ment  in  their  intercourse,  increased  by  the  fact  tli 
children  deprived  them  of  the  last  element  of  recon 
theless,  Frau  Wagner  was  a  good  woman,  and  io 
worid  decidedly  the  better  half  and  the  chief  su 
otherwise,  and  felt  the  deepest  pity  with  Wagnei 
should  have  built  the  bridge  by  which  he  might  ha^ 
wheVeas  now  it  was  only  making  the  bitter  cup  of 
I  was  on  good  terms  with  Frau  Wagner,  who  < 
complaints  into  my  ears,  and  I  tried  to  console  hi 
in  yain.'' 

She  adds  that  she  often  spoke  to  Ma 
(a  daughter  of  Liszt)  about  this  mattei 


REPARATION  FROM  MUfNA  117 

When  Wagner  was  liying  at  Penzing,  waiting  for 
Triaian  to  be  produced  at  Vienna,  his  wife  had  gone  back 
to  Dresden,  where  she  spent  the  rest  of  her  life  with 
members  of  her  famUy.  Tet  the  break  had  apparently 
not  been  irreparable;  for  on  Febmaiy,  1863,  Wagner 
writes  from  St.  Petersborg  to  Praeger:  ^'I  would  Minna 
were  here  with  me;  we  might,  in  the  excitement  that 
now  moves  fast  around  me,  grow  again  the  quiescent 
pair  of  yore.  The  whole  thing  is  annoying.  I  am  not 
in  good  spirits;  I  move  about  freely,  and  see  a  number 
of  i)eople,  but  my  misery  is  bitter.''  Nor  had  Minna 
apparently  given  him  up  entirely,  for  she  opened  a 
correspondence  with  Praeger;  whereupon  her  husband 
again  writes:  — 

**  And  so  she  has  written  to  you  ?  Whose  fault  was  it  ?  How 
could  she  have  expected  I  was  to  be  shackled  and  fettered  as  any 
ordinary  cold  common  mortal  ?  My  inspirations  carried  me  into 
a  sphere  she  could  not  follow,  and  then  the  exuberance  of  my 
heated  enthusiasm  was  met  by  a  cold  douche.  But  still  there  was 
no  reason  for  the  extreme  step;  everything  might  have  been 
arranged  between  us,  and  it  would  have  been  better  had  it  been  so. 
Now  there  is  a  dark  void,  and  my  misery  is  deep.^* 

This  note  is  dated  April,  1864,  Mariafeld,  and  this 
brings  us  back  to  Frau  Wille.  She  relates  first  an  inci- 
dent that  happened  some  years  before  when,  after 
reading  the  preface  to  Opera  and  Drama,  Wagner  had 
commented  on  the  imprudence  of  marrying  when  young 
and  poor.  Minna  had  retorted:  "Well,  I  have  plenty 
of  letters  that  show  which  of  us  wanted  to  marry.  R 
was  not  J."  (Perhaps  if  she  had  loved  her  husband  it 
would  have  been  easier  for  her  to  understand  him.) 
Wagner  had  answered:  "Poor  woman,  who  was  called 


118  SING  LUDWIO  FINDS  WAGNBB 

upoa  to  get  along  with  a,  moDster  of  a.  genius."  And 
now,  in  the  spring  of  1864,  when  all  was  lostj  he  ex- 
claimed to  Fran  Wille :  — 

"  Betweea  me  and  my  wife  all  might  have  turned  out  well  I  I 
bad  simply  apoilud  her  dreadfully,  and  yielded  to  her  in  everything. 
She  did  DOt  ftel  that  1  am  a  man  who  cannot  live  with  wi]i|;B  tied 
down.  What  did  she  know  of  the  divine  right  of  passion,  which  I 
ivnnounce  in  the  Hame-death  of  the  Valkyrie,  who  hu  fallen  from 
the  p-Bca  of  the  gods  7  With  the  death-eacriflce  of  love  the  Qotler- 
d&tnmerang  [dusk  of  the  gods]  sets  in." 

The  world  is  apt  to  side  with  the  woman  in  a  case  like 
this,  especially  if  her  partner  is  of  the  irritabiU  genua, 
a,  man  of  genius.  No  doubt  Minna  had  much  to  endure, 
and  deserves  all  our  pity;  but  that  her  husband  is 
not  alone  to  blame  in  this  matter,  is  shown  by  the 
extremely  happy  and  contented  life  he  led  with  his 
second  wife,  Cosima,  the  daughter  of  Liszt,  who  did  love 
and  understand  him.  Her  he  married  in  1870.  Minna 
died  at  Dresden  in  1866,  of  heart  disease.  One  of  her 
last  acta  was  the  writing  of  a  letter  in  which  she  made 
a  public  denial  of  the  charges  trumped  up  against  her 
husband  by  unscrupulous  enemies,  that,  while  revelling 
in  luxury,  he  had  allowed  her  to  starve.  As  a  matter  of 
fact,  he  continued  to  support  her,  as  he  had  supported 
her  parents,  even  in  times  of  extreme  poverty.  He 
never,  after  their  separation,  countenanced  disparaging 
allusions  to  her,  and  his  letters  of  this  period,  as  well 
aa  the  testimony  of  friends,  show  that  for  a  long  time 
the  bitterness  of  the  separation  helped  to  poison  his  hap- 
piness, and  that  he  greatly  missed  his  partner  of  twenty- 
seven  years.  To  Praeger  he  wrote  in  June,  1864,  of  his 
"torturing  feeling  of  isolation":  — 


KUra  AND  COMPOSES  119 

c«xiie  eommonert  domestic  details  most  now  be  done  by  me ; 
the  pnxchMing  of  kitchen  ntensUs  and  such  kindred  matters  am  I 
driven  to.  Ah !  poor  Beethoven !  now  is  it  forcibly  brought  home 
to  me  what  his  discomforts  were  with  his  washing-book  and  engag- 
ing of  housekeepers,  etc.,  etc.  I  who  have  praised  woman  more 
%\i^n  Fraoenlob,  have  not  one  for  my  companion.  The  truth  is,  I 
have  spoiled  Minna ;  too  much  did  I  indulge  her,  too  much  did  I 
yield  to  her ;  but  it  were  better  not  to  talk  upon  a  subject  which 
neTer  ceases  to  vex  me.'* 


KING  AND  C0MP08BB 

Frau  Wille  relates  that  one  day  (in  the  latter  part  of 
April)  Wagner  took  a  walk  with  her  and  her  husband, 
who  had  jtist  come  back  from  the  Orient.     On  their  re- 
turn a  package  of  letters  was  placed  in  the  composer's 
hands.    After  a  glance  at  them  he  declared  that  he  would 
depart  on  the  following  day.     He  kept  his  word,  but 
before  leaving  he  said  he  would  soon  return,  and  bring 
along  Bfilow  and  his  wife  to  spend  the  summer  with 
them.     To  Wille  he  remarked  that  he  was  going  to  seek 
a  health  resort  in  order  to  invigorate  his  constitution, 
and  then  t^>  visit  the  theatres  of  Stuttgart,  Karlsruhe, 
and  Hanover  to  make  arrangements  for  producing  some 
of  his  operas.     Buch  were  indeed  his  intentions,  as  the 
sequel  showed;  but  his  departure  was  doubtless  hastened 
by  the  news  he  ha/1  received  in  one  of  those  letters  that 
his  Viennese  creditors  were  on  his  tracks,  and  that  he 
was   in  fact,  in  danger  of  being  arrested  and  imprisoned 
for  debt.     He  had  lived  unwisely  and  extravagantly  at 
Vienna.     He  had  a  passion  for  refined  luxury,  and,  like 
most  musicians  and  other  artists,  could  not  resist  the 
temptation,  when  he  had  a  little  money,  to  squander  it 


120  KINO  LUDWIQ  FINDS   WAQNEB 

recklessly.  Rumor  said  that  he  had  earned  $20,000 
with  his  coDcerts,  and  spent  6000  francs  alone  on  a 
Bilk -embroidered  couch!  This  was  of  course  absurd, 
for  his  concerts  had  been  unprofitable,  excepting  the 
five  given  in  Bussia,  and  those  could  not  by  any  possibil- 
ity have  netted  such  a  sum  —  or  a  quarter  of  it.  He 
had,  however,  been  so  foolish  as  to  borrow  a  large  sum 
that  was  to  be  repaid  from  the  profits  of  a  second  Rus- 
sian tour  —  which  was  subsequently  given  up.  Hence 
the  new  debts,  added  to  the  old  ones.  It  had  been  bis 
fate,  as  ths  reader  knows,  to  fail  (except  in  Russia)  in 
all  those  enterprises  from  which  he  had  hoped  pecuniary 
benefit,  and  which  (o-riay  are  so  immensely  profitable. 
Debts  at  Dresden  for  publishing  his  operas^  debts  in 
Paris  for  brinfjing  out  Tannhduser ;  debts  in  Vienna  for 
attempting  Tristan  and  giving  concerts;  debts  for  his 
daily  expenses,  his  necessary  travels,  and  the  support  of 
his  wife.  As  he  says  in  a  letter  of  this  period  to  Frau 
von  Muchanow:'  "The  most  extraordinary,  almost  de- 
moniac bad  luck  frustrated  all  my  efforts;  I  resolved 
to  retire  for  all  time  to  a  quiet  refuge  and  give  up  my 
artistic  labors  forever."  His  project  of-  going  to  live 
in  Russia  had  also  come  to  naught.  Not  long  before  he 
left  Mariafeld  he  had  received  a  letter  from  Russia, 
showing  that  the  offers  of  assistance  which  had  been 
made  by  the  Princess  Hel^ne  would  not  bear  the  test  of 
trial.  Add  to  this  that  Tristan  had  been  found  "impos- 
sible "  wherever  it  had  been  attempted,  and  Die  Meialer- 
singer,  the  comic  opera  in  which  he  was  about  to  meet 
the  operatic  managers  and  the  public  half-way,  had  been 
sneeringly  refused  in  advance  wherever  he  had  offered 
•  fspp«R,  p.  SI. 


KHtQ  AND  COMPOSES  121 

it  —  and  we  see  why  even  his  iron  will  was  about  to 
break. 

He  went  to  Stuttgart,  where  be  bad  a  good  friend  in 
Conductor  Eckert  of  tbe  Opera;  tbrougb  bis  influence  be 
boped  to  win  tbe  good-will  of  tbe  Intendant,  Baron  Gkdl. 
Cannstadt,  near  Stuttgart,  was  reconunended  to  bim  for 
bis  bealtb.  His  operatic  bopes  were  annibilated  wben 
be  beard  a  performance,  wbicb  inspired  bim  "witb 
deadly  disgust."  Yet  be  decided  to  remain  bere  some 
time,  and  directed  Frau  Wille  to  send  letters  in  caie  of 
Eckert.  Tbis  was  on  May  2.  On  May  4  be  writes 
again,  from  Municb,  in  great  exuberance  of  joy:  — 

"  I  would  be  the  most  ongratefol  of  men  if  I  did  not  immediately 
inform  yon  of  my  bonndlees  good  luck.  Ton  know  that  the  King 
of  Bayaria  sent  a  meaeenger  to  find  me.  To-day  I  was  broo^t 
before  him.  He  is,  alas,  so  beautiful  and  intellectual,  so  symiMb- 
thetic  and  delightful,  that  I  am  afraid  his  life  must  fade  away  in 
this  common  world  like  a  dream.  He  loves  me  with  the  depth  and 
ardor  of  first  love ;  he  knows  everything  about  myself,  and  under- 
stands me  like  my  own  soul.  He  wants  me  to  be  with  him  always, 
to  work,  to  rest,  to  produce  my  works  ;  he  will  give  me  everything 
I  need  ;  I  am  to  finish  my  Nibelungen,  and  he  will  have  them  per- 
formed as  I  w\b!(l  I  am  to  be  my  own  unrestricted  master,  not 
Kapellmeister  —  nothing  but  myself  and  his  friend.  All  troubles 
are  to  be  taken  from  me ;  I  shall  have  whatever  I  need,  if  only  I 
stay  with  him. 

**  What  do  you  say  to  this  ?  what  do  you  say  ?  Is  it  not  unheard 
of  ?    Can  this  be  anything  but  a  dream  ?  '* 

But  it  was  not  a  dream.  Tbe  young  King  of  Bavaria 
bad  read  that  preface  to  tbe  ^ibelung  poems;  be  bad 
read  tbe  despairing  call  of  tbe  composer:  ^^Will  tbis 
Prince  be  found?"  and  bad  said  to  himself,  "I  will  be 
that  Prince."  Tbe  story  is  best  told  in  Wagner's  own 
words,  in  a  letter  to  Frau  Wille ;  — . 


122  KING  LUDWIG  FISDS   WAGNEB 

"In  the  year  when  my  TannhSuser  was  fltm  perfonned  (ihe 
wotk  with  which  I  entered  on  my  new  thorny  pttth},  in  ihe  month 
of  August,  wlien  1  was  filled  with  such  an  exuberance  of  crcaliva 
impulse  that  I  sketched  Lohenffrin  and  Die  MefHentngfr  at  the 
same  lime,  a  mother  gave  birth  to  my  guardian  angel.  At  the  time 
when  I  was  fiiiishbg  my  TrUtan  at  Lucerne,  and  was  making 
unspeakable  efforts  to  secure  permlsaion  to  live  on  German  terri- 
tory (Baden),  and  finaliy,  in  despair,  turned  to  Paris,  there  lo 
enpage  in  undertakings  against  which  my  spirit  revolted  —  at  that 
time  the  youth  of  fliteen  first  heard  a  performance  of  my  iMhengrin 
which  moved  him  ho  deeply  that  from  that  date  he  educated  him- 
self by  the  study  of  my  works  and  writinga  in  eucli  a  manner  that 
he  now  frankly  confesses  to  his  surroimdings,  as  well  as  to  me 
that  I  wns  really  bia  s"'"  educator  and  t«aclier.  lie  followed  up 
my  career  and  my  troubles,  my  disagreeable  Parisian  experiences 
my  mlsEortnnes  in  Gennany,  and  now  his  sole  wish  is  lo  have  the 
power  to  prove  his  supreme  love  for  me.  The  only  sore  trouble  o( 
the  youth  was  to  comprehend  how  to  secure  Irom  his  obtuse  sur- 
nitiuditiga  this  ni'ceHsary  sympathy  forme.  Early  in  March,  of  this 
year,  —  1  reoicnibiir  the  day,  —  I  became  oonvlnoed  that  any  at- 
tempt to  improve  my  situatlun  must  fail  ;  ri]->euly  and  defcncflcss  I 
confronted  all  the  abominable  indignities  inflicted  on  me,  when, 
quite  unexpectedly,  the  King  of  Bavaria  died,  and  my  compassion- 
ate guardian  angel  —  contrary  to  all  fate  —  mounted  the  throne. 
Four  weeks  later,  his  first  care  was  to  send  for  me.  While  1  was, 
with  your  compassionate  assistaiicf,  draining  the  cup  of  misery  to 
the  dregs,  bis  messenger  was  already  searching  for  me  at  my  empty 
house  in  Penzing  ;  he  had  to  bring  the  loving  King  a  lead-pencU,  a 
pen,  belonging  to  mc.  How  and  when  he  found  me  you  know 
already." 

The  messenger  despatched  by  the  King  to  find  Wagner 

was  Adjutant  Sauer.  The  song-composer  Baron  Hom- 
stein  met  hiin  on  a  boat  on  Lake  Constance  and  found 
him  looking  tired  and  disappointed.  On  being  ques- 
tioned, he  s.aid  that  King  Ludwig  had  suddenly  become  a 
great  Wagner  enthusiast,  and  had  sent  him  out  to  find 


sma  AND  C0UP08ER  128 

him  and  bring  him  to  Htmich.  He  had  spent  a  week 
honting  for  him  in  Vienna  and  elsewhere,  and  was  now 
on  his  way  to  his  Swiss  haunts  in  the  hope  of  finding 
him  there.  "Why,"  said  Homstein,  "I  know  where  he 
ia;  he  is  at  Stuttgart  hiding  from  his  creditors."  So 
Sauer  went  to  Stuttgart,  where  he  found  his  man.' 

The  King's  love  for  Wa^er  was  one  of  those  roman- 
tic passions  which,  among  the  Greeks,  great  statesmen, 
artists,  and  philosophers  used  to  inspire  in  the  mind  of 
gifted  youths  —  a  &iendsbip  with  ^  the  symptoms  of 
romantic  love.*  It  was  like  love  at  first  sight.  After 
a  brief  visit  to  Vienna,  where  his  relations  to  King 
Lndwig  made  it  easy  for  him  to  pacify  his  creditors  for 
the  moment^  he  took  up  his  residence  in  a  villa  on  the 
beautiful  Lake  Stamberg,  not  far  from  Munich,  which 
his  royal  friend  had  placed  at  his  disposal.  It  was 
only  ten  minutes  from  Schloss  Berg,  the  lake-castle  of 
the  King,  who  sent  his  carriage  for  his  new  friend  two  or 
three  times  every  day. 

•>  I  fly  U)  him  aa  to  A  beloved  one,"  Wagner  wtiMa.  "  It  ia  an 
enchanting  intimacy.  Never  befon  have  I  seen  sach  unreBtrained 
eagemeas  to  leam,  such  comprehension,  ardor,  and  enthiuiasm,  and 
then  his  loving  care  for  me,  the  chaste  cordiality  which  ia  expnsMd 
In  eveij  mien  when  IM  Msnrea  me  of  his  happiness  in  posseadng 
me ;  thua  we  often  dt  for  boora,  lost  In  contemplation  of  each 

'  ThcM  detail!  I  have  from  the  Munich  tenor  Herr  Vcgl,  who  «aid 
he  onoa  told  the  Btoiy  to  Wagner,  who  conQnned  It.  Vcgl  added  that 
Wagner'a  affairs  had  come  to  such  a  pass  that  he  bad  decided  to  pot- 
chase  apMol  to  end  hl«  Ufa,  when  be  wu  aavgd  by  the  timely  arrival 
of  Um  Klng'i  meeseager.  Apparently  Baron  PfiateDmalstar  was  also 
despatclied  t«  find  Wagner.  One  of  tbeae  meMengera  soeompanied 
bin  to  Hunich. 

■  For  a  discna^D  of  this  kind  of  pasaionate  Iriendablp,  eommoD 
among  the  Greeka,  and  not  rare  to-day,  aee  the  chapter  on  "  Qrealc 
Lov«"  Lb  my  Bomantie  Lovt  and  Ptrtoiiat  Btmity. 


]:j  S»']t^':i/rxrr  he  writes  agai 

'*  Now  I  btLYe  a  young  King  who 
you  cannot  oonoeiTe  what  that  means 
I  had  aa  a  youth :  I  dreamed  that  Sha. 
I  nw  him  and  spoke  to  him,  actually  a 
forgotten  the  impression  which  this  mat 
the  desire  in  me  to  see  Beethoven  (who 
the  llTing).    Somewhat  similar  must  be 
ing  young  man  in  having  me.    He  tells 
that  I  am  really  his !    His  letters  to  me 
astonishment  and  deli^^t.    Liszt  remarke 
rereaiad  in  them,  was  on  the  same  lofty  p 
Beliere  me,  a  is  a  mirade.**    ''Through 
another  letter,  **the  male  aex  has  comple 
in  ny  eyes/* 

Tbu0  the  auminer  of  1864  was  agrc 
Btaraberg.  Here  he  composed  his  j 
maracAy  as  an  expression  of  homage  ; 
royal  benefactor;  and  here  he  wrote, 
bis  essay  on  StaU  and  Religion^  in 
the  functions  of  kings,  patriotism,  i 
fibith,  dogma,  and  other  topics,  in  a  ni 
or  interesting  manner.  He  would  ] 
use  of  his  time  by  writing  another  p 
gungmnar$ckf  of  which  the  song-coi 
said  that  "tender  and  full  of  '^- 
ward,  while  ^^^^ 


PBBPAEINO  THE  SOIL  125 

force  ever  outward,  like  the  magnetic  mountain  which 
drawa  eveiTthing  in  its  range  to  itself."  The  somewhat 
brassy  character  of  this  march  is  accounted  for  by  the 
fact  that  it  was  originally  intended  as  a  piece  for  the  mil- 
itary band. 

PBEPABINQ  THE  SOIL 
In  the  autumn  king  and  composer  returned  to  Munich, 
and  a  detached  residence  in  the  most  artistic  part  of  the 
city,  near  the  Propylea,  was  placed  at  Wagner's  dis- 
posal. The  first  thing  to  do  was  to  prepare  the  soil  for 
the  coming  great  artistic  events.  The  composer  needed 
lieutenants,  and  these  he  found  in  Biilow,  Cornelius,  and 
others,  who  were  summoned  to  his  assistance.  The 
presence  of  BOlow  also  ensured  the  companionship  of 
his  wife  Gosima,  daughter  of  Liszt,  whom  Wagner  had 
first  met  three  years  previously  in  Paris.  She  arrived 
in  June,  with  her  two  children  and  servant,  in  advance 
of  her  husband,  who  was  to  follow  soon.  This  helped 
to  mitigate  the  melancholy  which  he  had  felt  in  his 
lonely  household  ever  since  his  wife  had  gone  to  Dres- 
den, in  spite  of  all  the  loving  attentions  of  the  King. 

"FootBQIow,"  he  writea  to  Fran  Wllle,  '■anired  earl;  in  July 
In  a  moat  depreaaed  atate  of  bealth,  witb  overworked  and  aballered 
nervea ;  he  foond  here  peraiateDt  bad,  cold  weather  which  made 
hia  aojonni  disagiee  with  him,  and  brought  on  one  rel^iee  after 
another.  Add  to  thia  a  tragic  marriage;  a  young  woman  or  ex- 
traordinary, quite  onprecedeDted  endowment,  Liszt's  wonderful 
image,  but  of  superior  intellect.  .  .  .  The  most  important  thing 
waa  to  make  BtUow  give  ap  hia  inaaaely  exhausting  art-activity  and 
provide  a  nobler  field  for  bim.  It  was  easy  to  induce  the  King — 
(or  whom  also  it  was  a  matter  of  consequence  — to  appoint  Billow 
•a  coort  planiaL  I  now  hope  to  have  Uta  Blilowa  here  with  me 
■oon  for  good." 


V26  KING  LVDWIQ  FINDS   WAONES 

The  King  was  ready  to  begin  at  once:  "He  is  pre- 
pared," writes  Wagner  to  his  friend  F.  Schmitt'  "for 
aoythiiig  and  everything  that  will  make  possible  the 
performance  of  my  works;  I  am  obliged  to  curb  his 
impatience  by  my  despair  of  finding  the  proper  singers," 
This  trouble  he  decided  to  overcome  radically  by  found- 
ing a.  new  music  school  at  Munich,  the  organization  of 
which  he  described  elaborately  in  a  long  and  most  valua- 
ble essay  entitled,  "Report  to  His  Majesty,  King  Lud- 
wig  II.  of  Bavaria,  concerning  a  German  Music  School 
to  be  Founded  in  Munich  "  (VIII.  160-220).  It  is  full 
of  most  important  and  suggestive  matter  relating  to  ttie 
history  and  proper  management  of  conservatories,  the 
importance  of  the  piano  in  securing  a  general  musical 
education,  the  training  of  the  voice  required  for  the 
interpretation  of  German  music,  etc' 

October  7th,  1864,  is  an  important  date;  for  on  that 
day  the  King  decided  that  Wagner  was  to  finish  his 
Nibelung  Tetralogy  and  produce  it  forthwith,  in  a  theatre 
specially  constructed  according  to  his  indications.  The 
year  1867  was  chosen  as  the  date.  When  this  was 
arranged,  "  I  was  so  overwhelmed  with  astonishment  at 
this  marvel,  this  heavenly  royal  youth,  that  I  came  near 
sinking  down  and  worshipping  him."  Mark  the  date, 
— 1867,  —  yet  the  Nibelung  festival  did  not  take  place 
till  1876,  — nine  years  later, —  and  at  Bayreuth  instead 
of  in  Munich!  The  events  which  led  to  this  postpone- 
ment form  an  entertaining  but  by  no  means  creditable 
chapter  in  Bavarian  history;  to  them  we  must  now  turn. 

'  Oesterlela,  Wagner  Satalog,  III.  IG.  Scbmitt  VM  a  vocal  teacher 
la  Viennii. 

'  Pages  182-188  must  be  specially  commended  to  the  attentioD  ol 
conductors  and  critics  who  still  believe  that  Bacb,  Moiatt,  and  Bee- 
thoven  should  be  condocled  metrooomlcallf. 


THE  ENEMY  AT  WORK  127 


THB  EKSBfY  AT  WOBK 

When  the  royal  youth  of  eighteen  first  showed  his 
passion  for  Biehard  Wagner,  his  friends  and  subjects 
looked  upon  it  as  a  harmless  whim,  which  would  proba- 
bly soon  pass  away.  They  knew  he  had  been  brought 
up  amidst  romantic  mountainous  surroundings  and  was 
romantically  inclined.  They  did  not  realize,  however, 
that  he  had  fallen  in  love,  and  that  his  love  was  to  last 
as  long  as  his  life.  But  as  soon  as  it  was  announced 
that  he  had  given  his  ''  favorite  "  a  house  and  a  regular 
salary,  envy  and  malice  raised  their  heads  and  sought 
his  ruin.  The  silliest  rumors  were  circulated  with  the 
object  of  injuring  him.  He  was  accused  of  squandering 
the  King's  money  and  living  like  a  sybarite.  Thousands 
were  spent  by  him,  it  was  said,  on  carpets  and  furniture 
which  he  changed  constantly  !  distinguished  artists  had 
been  paid  to  adorn  his  rooms  with  frescoes ;  descriptions 
were  given  of  his  wardrobe,  etc.* 

**  This  chaige  of  Oriental  luxury,**  says  Praeger  in  reference  to 
these  rumors,  **  was  a  stock  one  with  some  people.  Even  now  his 
velvet  coat  and  biretta  are  made  the  subject  of  puerile  attacks ;  but 
I  cannot  refrain  from  stating  that  Richard  Wagner's  house  and 
decorations  are  far  surpassed  by  the  luxuriously  appointed  palaces 
of  certain  English  painters,  musicians,  and  dramatic  poetasters. 
Wagner  was  fond  of  velvets  and  satins,  and  he  knew  how  best  to 
display  them.  The  arrangements  in  the  house,  too,  showed  the 
unmistakable  guiding  hand  of  a  woman.  Madame  von  BUlow 
acted  as  a  sort  of  secretary  to  Wagner.** 

Dr.  Ludwig  Nohl  says  in  regard  to  this  charge  of 
**  Oriental  luxury  "  and  "  Sybaritism  "  that  it  could  only 

^  See  one  of  these  descriptive  articles  in  Glasenapp,  11. 163. 


128  KINQ  LUDWIQ  WaDB  WAQMMB 

have  been  brought  in  a  place  where  people  tae  used  to 
such  primitive  domestic  anangemenlB  as  was  the  case 
in  Munich  at  that  time;  and  that  Wagner's  fomishings 
were  no  more  luxurious  than  those  of  any  well-^o-do 
merchant  on  the  Bhine.^ 

Another  charge  brought  against  him  was  that  ha  was 
inaccessible,  unsociaL  So  he  was,  no  doubt.  He  suf- 
fered 80  much  from  unbidden  visitors,  who  seemed  to 
look  on  him  as  one  of  the  local  curiosities  whom  one 
could  go  and  see  like  a  giraSe  or  an  elephant^  that  he 
finally  became  very  shy  of  admitting  callers.  Those 
who  came  to  be  thus  repulsed,  (and  among  whom  there 
were  probably  some  who  had  a  claim  to  his  attention,) 
took  revenge  by  writing  him  up  as  an  arrogant  individ- 
ual. His  love  of  solitudCi  which  he  shared  with  all 
men  of  genius,  had  been  so  aggravated  by  his  many 
years  of  enforced  isolation  in  Switzerland,  that  he  did 
not  feel  tempted  to  avail  himself  as  much  of  artistic 
fellowship  in  Munich  as  he  would  have  done  had  he 
been  more  '^  diplomatic.''  His  principal  desire,  as  al- 
ways, was  to  be  left  in  peace  and  alone  with  his  art- 
work ;  but  this  desire  was  not  to  be  gratified,  even  though 
the  munificence  of  the  King  had  at  last  taken  from  his 
shoulders  the  petty  cares  of  gaining  a  livelihood,  which 
had  so  often  interrupted  his  composition. 

The  main  source  of  trouble  was  this  munificence  of  the 
King  and  the  partiality  which  inspired  it.  Wagner  was 
believed  to  have  as  great  an  influence  on  the  King  in 
political  as  in  art  matters.  This  was  not  the  case;  for, 
as  he  once  remarked  to  Wille,  "  the  King  looked  at  the 
ceiling  and  began  to  whistle  whenever  he  talked  to  him 

^  2feu€t  Skixxeribuch,  p.  148. 


THE  ENEMY  AT  WORK  129 

about  politics.''  How  tmiyenal  this  belief  nevertheless 
was  is  indicated  in  this  incident  related  in  a  letter  to 
Frau  Wille,  the  reference  being  to  Lassalle:  — 

**  The  unhappy  man  csme  to  me  (Uiioog)i  Billow's  Introduction) 
just  fourteen  days  before  his  deaths  to  beg  me  to  Intercede  with  the 
King  of  Bavaria  against  his  ambassador  in  Switzerland  (Donniges). 
(For  I  am  considered  simply  an  onmipotent  favorite;  the  other 
day  the  relatives  of  a  female  poisoner  implored  my  protection  I) 
What  do  you  say  to  that  ?  I  had  never  before  met  Lassalle ;  on 
this  occasion  I  disliked  hhn  heartily.  It  was  a  love  affair,  prompted 
purely  by  vanity  and  false  pathos.  I  recognized  in  him  the  type 
of  our  prominent  men  of  the  future,  which  I  must  call  the  Germanic- 
Jewish." 

Olasenapp  relates  that  politicians  endeavored  to  gain 
influence  on  the  young  King  through  Wagner;  and  when 
the  latter  refused  to  be  made  a  tool  for  their  designs 
they  turned  against  him  and  plotted  his  ruin. 

In  the  letter  to  Frau  Wille  following  the  one  just 
quoted  from,  Wagner  accuses  himself  of  insincerity  and 
admits  that  his  general  influence  on  the  King  is  greater 
than  he  had  confessed.  And  herein  lies  his  chief  care 
and  trouble.  He  cannot  abandon  the  King  to  his  sur- 
roundings without  fearing  the  worst  for  him.  To  cite 
his  own  words :  — 

**The  deepest  anguish  overwhelms  me,  and  I  ask  my  demon: 
'  Why  this  cup  to  me  ?  *  Why  must  I,  who  seek  only  quiet  and 
time  for  work,  be  involved  in  a  responsibility  which  places  the 
salvation  of  a  divinely  endowed  young  man,  perhaps  the  welfare 
of  a  whole  country,  in  my  hands?  How  can  I  here  save  my 
heart  ?  How  still  remain  an  artist  ?  He  has  not  a  man  such  as  he 
needs! — This,  this  is  my  real  perplexity.  The  superficial  play  of 
intrigues  is  of  no  consequence ;  it  is  intended  merely  to  make  me 
foiget  myself  and  commit  an  indiscretion.    But  what  energy  — 


180         KINO  LUDwm  jmmB  wmmmb 

which  would  forever  depAyt  wiB€imj  lepoM—^  would  I  oot  SMd 
to  tear  away  my  young  friend  fnrever.from  liis  ionoaadliigi  1  He 
clings  to  me  with  touching  flddltj«  and  iadlatee  himaelf  agatoit  aU 
at  present.  What  do  yon  aay  to  my  fatef  -^Mj^  longiiig  lor  tiie 
last  rest  is  inexpressible;  my  hmxi  caa  no  longor  eodoio  Uieao 
emotions.*' 

Four  days  before  these  woids  were  wiitteDi  Ae  JSg^ 
meine  Zeitung  (Feb.  22,  1866)  had  eontained  an  open 
letter  of  three  columns  in  which  Wagner  replied  to  the 
slanders  and  charges  broog^  against  him  bj  the  news- 
papers. It  is  an  eloquent  doeomenti  so  snperb  in  its 
dignified  pathos,  so  crushing  in  its  simple  assertion  of 
the  truth,  that  I  regret  that  considerations  of  spaoe  pre- 
vent me  from  translating  the  whole  of  it  in  thli  plaoe. 
It  begins  with  these  words:  — 

**  Having  been  summoned  to  Munich  by  the  munificence  of  His 
Majesty,  the  King  of  Bavaria,  in  order  to  be  enabled,  after  hard 
struggles  and  toils,  to  harvest  the  fruits  of  a  laborious  artist-life  in 
the  undisturbed  enjoyment  of  repose  and  opportunity  to  work,  it 
has  been  my  fate,  after  living  in  great  seclusion  and  awaiting 
only  my  noble  patron^s  orders,  to  be  suddenly  disturbed  in  my 
asylum  by  attacks  on  my  personality,  by  a  storm  of  public  accusa- 
tions such  as  ordinarily  get  into  the  papers  only  from  the  law-courts 
and  even  from  there  only  with  certain  traditional  considerations. 

**  I  have  been  in  London  and  Paris  when  my  art  works  and  ten- 
dencies were  unmercifully  ridiculed  by  the  newspapers,  my  works 
dragged  into  the  dust  and  hissed  in  the  theatre ;  but  that  my  person, 
my  private  character,  my  civic  qualities  and  domestic  habits  should 
be  exposed  to  public  abuse  in  the  most  dishonorable  manner,  — that 
is  an  experience  which  was  reserved  for  me  till  I  came  to  a  place 
where  my  works  are  appreciated,  my  aims  and  tendencies  acknowl- 
edged to  possess  manly  seriousness  and  noble  significance.*' 

Concerning  the  hullabaloo  raised  over  the  salary  given 
to  him  by  the  King  he  says,   after  explaining  the 


THE  SNSMT  AT  WOBK  181 

plan  of  the  Nibelung  Tetral<^,  as  approved  by  His 
Majesty :  — 

"For  Qda  order  [to  complete  Uke  Tetralogy],  the  acceptance 
of  which  compelled  me  to  glre  up  for  several  jeaia  all  work  tta 
irtilcb  I  could  hope  to  receive  immediate  recompense  from  the 
Qerman  theatres,  Hie  Hajeatj  granted  me,  under  a  regular  contract, 
emolumenta  which  did  not  exceed  what  Bavarian  Kinp  liad  pre- 
viously granted  In  ordering  works  of  art  or  science.  Having  a 
ri^t,  therefore,  to  regard  myself,  not  as  a  favorite,  but  as  an  artist 
adequately  paid  for  his  work,  I  believe  tltat  I  am  not  called  upon 
to  give  an  account  of  my  expenditures  to  any  one,  unless  it  be 
that  I  must  apologize  for  having  secured  for  my  work  the  same 
compensation  which  painters,  architects,  savants,  etc.,  have  often 
obtained.  How  highly  I  nevertheless  appreciate  the  good  luck  of 
having  unexpectedly  found  jnst  here  the  magnanimous  patron  who 
knew  how  to  tqipreciate  the  value  of  my  boldest  artistic  plan,  may 
be  seen  from  this  that  I  forthwith  ukad  the  King's  consent  to  my 
natuiallzation  aa  a  Bavarian  citizen,  and  gave  the  orders  necessary 
therefor.  Although  German  art  cannot  be  Bavarian,  but  simply 
German,  Munich  la  nevertheteas  the  tupltal  of  this  Gennau  art ;  to 
feel  myself  here,  under  the  protection  o(  a  sovereign  who  inspires 
me,  perfectly  at  home  and  one  ol  the  people,  was  a  true  and  sincere 
necessity  to  me  who  had  so  long  been  a  homeless  wanderer  in  many 

Id  regard  to  the  charges  of  bis  isolation  he  briefly 


"  Having  always  been  accustomed  to  great  retirement  from  public 
life,  being  usually  in  poor  health,  and  suffering  from  the  after- 
etlecla  of  yeara  of  privation,  I  was  obliged  duruig  the  fitBt  part  of 
my  sojourn  here  to  postpone  to  a  later  period  my  cordial  desire  to 
enlarge  the  circle  of  my  personal  friends  and  thereby  completely 
realiie  my  naturalization  In  Bavaria." 

Goncemisg  the  charge  that  he  had  ordered  his  own 
portrait  painted  by  his  friend  Pecht  and  then  sent  a  bill 


132 


KIXG  LUDWIO  FINDS   WAONSB 


of  a  thousand  florins  therefor  to  the  royal  exchequer, 
he  says :  "'  I  assure  my  accuser  that  .  .  .  there  ia  not 
one  true  word  in  this  matter,  as  the  court-officials  in 
question  will  attest  to  him  on  application,  whereas  the 
real  occurrence  ia  capable  of  no  other  but  an  extremely 
honorable  interpretation." 

Such  were  some  of  the  indictments  brought  against 
Wagner.  His  reply  acted  like  a  thunderbolt;  the  slan- 
derers kept  in  hiding  for  a  while,  and  the  composer  was 
able  to  proceed  with  his  labors,  which  were  soon  to  cul- 
minate in  an  event  which,  as  he  had  predicted,  marked 
an  epoch  in  the  history  of  dramatic  music. 


TRISTAN  AND  ISOLDE  IN  MUNICH 

THB  8BG0ND  BAYBEUTH 

On  page  638  of  the  AUgemeine  Musikdlische  ZeUung 
for  1864  may  be  found  a  letter  from  Munich  in  which 
these  lines  occur:  ''Local  musical  affairs  will  soon  un- 
dergo a  change  unsuspected  a  short  time  ago.  In  place 
of  Lachner's  classical  and  exclusive  policy  we  shall  have 
all  the  Future.  Bichard  Wagner  goes  in  and  out  of  the 
royal  apartments  unannounced."  It  was  a  change,  in- 
deed, that  was  impending  in  Munich;  a  change  which 
was  to  convert  the  Bavarian  capital  from  a  pool  of  stag- 
nation into  the  whirlpool  of  modern^  music.  In  other 
words,  Munich  became,  for  eleven  years,  the  "  Bayreuth  " 
of  musicians,  taking  the  place  of  what  I  have  called  the 
first  Bayreuth,  Weimar,  which  fell  from  its  glory  when 
Liszt  abandoned  it  to  the  enemy.  It  was  an  odd  chance, 
too,  that  conferred  this  honor  on  Munich;  for  of  the 
numerous  Grerman  capitals  it  was  almost  the  last  to  take 
up  the  Wagner  cult.  A  correspondent  of  the  Neue 
Zeitschrift  fiir  Musik  writes  in  1852  that  the  concert  sea- 
son of  that  winter  was  opened  with  the  Tamihduser 
overture,  the  first  piece  of  Wagner's  heard  in  that  city 
up  to  date!  Fancy!  It  took  the  Tannhduser  overture 
seven  years  to  reach  Munich  from  Dresden!  For  this 
delay  a  fifth-rate  composer,  Franz  Lachner,  who  hap- 

183 


134  TRISTAN  AND  ISOLDE  IN  MUNICH 

pened  to  be  General -Musik -Director,  was  chiefly  re- 
sponsible. Lachner  was  very  slow  and  cautious,  even 
for  a  Bavarian  Ge neral-M us ik- Director;  after  the  roiin- 
hduaer  overture  had  been  heard,  the  opera  itself  was  kept 
in  quarantine  four  years  longer.  When  it  was  given, 
Liszt  heard  his  interpretation  of  it  and  found  it  very 
defective;  consequently  the  reception  was  a  cold  one; 
nor  was  Lohengrin  more  warmly  received  two  years 
later  (1858),  As  for  the  Flying  Dutchman,  we  know  that 
it  had  been  refused  at  Munich  almost  a  quarter  of  a 
century  before  the  date  at  which  we  have  now  arrived, 
as  "unsuitable  for  the  German  stage." 

It  was  with  this  opera  that  Wagner  took  up  his  prac- 
tical duties  in  repayment  of  the  Kiug's  favors,  in  the 
autumn  of  1804.  It  was  prodiiced  under  his  own  direc- 
tion, on  Dpp.  4.  and  was  cordially  received.  Shortly 
afterwards  a  Wngner  concert  was  given,  with  the  usual 
result — plenty  of  applause,  but  little  money.  In  Sep- 
tember of  the  same  year  the  project  of  giving  Tristan 
had  already  received  the  King's  eager  approval;  but  it 
had  to  be  postponed,  for  various  reasons.  It  was  not 
till  April,  1865,  that  matters  had  progressed  so  far  that 
Schnorr  and  his  wife  could  be  summoned  from  Dresden 
to  attend  the  rehearsals. 

EEHBAESALS   AND  PERFORMANCES 

Twenty  years  had  elapsed  since  Richard  Wagner  had 
been  enabled  personally  to  sujjerintend  the  production 
of  a  new  opera  of  his  own,  although  such  an  event  had 
been  the  consuming  desire  of  every  day  of  his  unhappy 
life.  He  had  in  the  interim  completed  four  works,  — 
Lohengrin,  Rheingold,   Walkilre,  Tristan, —  entirely,  and 


BEHEAR8AL8  AND  PEBF0BMANCE8         135 

two  more  —  Siegfried  and  Die  Meistereinger  in  part,  —  yet 
he  had  to  wait  until  a  king  appeared  on  the  scene  to 
compel  his  obtuse  contemporaries  to  pay  attention  to  the 
claims  of  genius!  On  April  18, 1865,  he  wrote  a  public 
letter  inviting  his  friends  in  all  parts  of  Europe  to  come 
to  Munich  for  the  performance  of  his  eight-year-old 
TiHstan,  now  first  permitted  to  see  the  light  of  the  world. 
This  letter  was  addressed  to  the  editor  of  the  Vienna 
Botschafier,  ''still  the  only  editor  of  a  large  political 
newspaper,  on  whose  support  I  can  rely  whenever  I 
have  a  communication  to  address  to  the  public."  ^  After 
giving  a  sketch  of  the  history  of  his  opera,  the  writer 
pays  his  tribute  to  King  Ludwig,  and  then  announces 
that  there  are  to  be  three  performances  of  Tristan,  under 
conditions  which  will  make  them  a  thing  quite  apart 
from  ordinary  operatic  representations,  their  object  be- 
ing not  to  amuse  and  make  money,  but  to  solve  a  noble 
artistic  problem.  One  of  the  royal  theatres  had  been 
entirely  placed  at  his  disposal  for  the  rehearsals,  and 
here,  with  the  assistance  of  Billow,  he  was  preparing  the 
performance.  To  Billow,  who  conducted  all  the  per- 
formances, he  pays  a  special  tribute  as  to 

*^him  who  achieved  the  impossible  in  providing  a  playable  piano- 
forte score  of  this  work,  as  regards  which  no  musician  can  yet 
comprehend  how  he  was  able  to  do  it.  With  him  at  my  side,  a 
second  Ego,  who  knows  by  heart  every  minute  detail  of  this  score, 
which  to  many  still  appears  such  a  riddle,  and  who  is  familiar 
with  my  intentions  in  their  most  delicate  nuances,  I  can,''  etc.^ 

1  This  letter  is  reprinted  in  the  Bayreuther  Blatter,  1890, 173-180. 

*  BiUow  also  arrauged  for  the  piano  the  Vorspiel  of  the  Meistergin- 
ger,  as  well  as  the  Huldigungamarsch,  the  Fauat  overture,  and  Wag- 
ner's version  of  Gluck's  Iphigenia  overture.  In  a  private  letter  of  this 
period  Wagner  speaks  of  Billow  as  the  only  living  conductor  in  whom 
he  had  full  confidence. 


186         TRISTAN  AND  laOLBN  a  MUNlXm 

In  this  matter  ICimioh  presenfeed  a  delig^tftil  oontnst 
to  Paris.  In  other  leepeota  Wagner  had  to  oongntnlato 
himself  that  he  had  not  riaked  ZVMoii  in  Ftei%  where 
his  singers  would  have  been  utterly  inadeqnato  to  their 
tasks.  Tnie,  Niemann  afterwarda  beoame  a  great  Tris- 
tan,  but  at  that  time  he  would  not  even  attempt  the  com- 
plete Paris  yersion  of  the  soene  with  Yenna.  Now  Wagner 
had  Schnorr,  the  greatest  vocal  artist  he  had  emt  heard, 
and  to  whose  eulogy  he  devotes  an  article  of  seventeen 
pages  which  all  those  should  read  who  wish  to  know  what 
was  bis  ideal  of  a  dramatic  singer.  Schnorr's  character 
was  as  great  as  his  art.  He  detested  the  flimsy  operatic 
works  of  the  day  on  which  he  was  condemned  to  waste 
his  powers^  and  his  one  ambition  was  to  satisfy  his  Mas- 
ter: '*  Never  has  the  most  bungling  singer  or  player 
accepted  so  much  detailed  instruction  from  me  as  tiiis 
vocal  herO;  whose  art  touched  on  supreme  mastery." 
Only  in  regard  to  the  third  act  Wagner  never  said  a 
word  to  him,  excepting  on  one  point.  From  the  beg^- 
ning  of  the  act,  contrary  to  his  usual  habit  at  rehearsals, 
he  sat  on  the  stage  with  closed  eyes;  Schnorr  at  first 
interpreted  this  as  apathy  or  dissatisfaction;  but  when, 
after  the  love-curse,  he  arose,  bent  over  the  singer  on  his 
couch  and  whispered  that  he  had  no  opinion  to  express 
on  his  realized  ideal,  Schnorr's  'Mark  eye  flashed  like 
the  star  of  love;  a  scarcely  audible  sob  —  and  never 
again  did  we  speak  another  serious  word  about  this  act." 

The  performances  were  to  be  on  May  15,  18,  22,  but 
illness  and  other  causes  of  delay  intervened,  and  the 
date  had  to  be  repeatedly  postponed,  so  that  it  actually 
happened  that  a  parody,  entitled  TriManderl  und  Suss- 
hcidef  appeared  ''for  the  very  first  and  often  postponed 


aSHEABaALS  AND  PSSFOBMAITCXB         187 

time  "  before  the  original  drama;  and  among  the  friends 
of  the  composer  who  had  hastened  to  Munich  in  response 
to  his  invitation  (Pohl  mentions  Gaap^rini,  Ealliiroda, 
Bckert,  Gall,  Draeseke,  Elindworth,  Jensen,  Kfihler, 
Dr.  Damrosch,  Bfickel,  Lassen,  and  others)  some  were 
obl^ed  to  return  before  the  event.  Among  those  who 
were  thus  disappointed  was  the  inspired  song-composer, 
Adolf  Jensen,  who  had  transferred  his  former  Schu- 
mann worship  to  Wagner.  After  the  first  postponement 
he  decided  to  wait,  and  in  a  letter  to  Hansen'  he  gives 
ns  a  pleasant  glimpse  of  musical  life  in  Munich:  — 

"We  spent  Tanday  afternoon  at  Wagner's,  where  the  lime 
paiwd  in  the  moat  iaconcelvably  delightful  fashion.  .  .  .  Billow 
played  all  sorta  of  things.  Wsgner  s&ng  ua  his  Cobbler's  song 
from  Die  Mei^ertinger,  with  ironical  humor,  and  cut  up  all  sorts 
of  pranks.  Mrs.  tod  Bdlow  peimaded  me  to  stay  by  all  means, 
because  the  performance  would  be  sore  to  take  place  next  week. 
Sbe  begged  me  to  visit  them  whenever  I  liked,  since  I  could  not  but 
value  the  chance  of  being  with  Wagner.  Wagner  drew  me  to  a 
cb^  beside  him,  and  said:  'Now,  look  here.  Can't  you  stay? 
Are  you  positively  obliged  to  be  tMwk  In  Konigsberg  by  a  cert^n 
day?'  This  was  all  said  in  a  channlngly  playful  fashion.  I 
replied  that  I  was  not  absolutely  compelled,  but  that  peconlarx 
necessities  and  other  things  would  make  It  difficult  for  me  to 
stay.  .  .  .  When  we  all  met  in  the  evening  at  the  Vier  Jahret- 
zeiten,  Wagner  said  in  his  delightful,  enchanting  way  ;  '  Now,  my 
children,  you  must  all  suppose  joutselves  to  have  been  taken  ilL 
We  are  founding  a  big  hospital  here,'  and  thereupon  he  introduced 
Dr.  Gaspirlni  (who  had  attended  him  In  Paris),  saying  to  him, 
'Now,  doctor,  yon  most  give  these  gentlemen  certificates  of 
illness.'" 

But  when  one  postponement  followed  upon  another, 

poor  Jensen  had  to  leave  without  hearing  Trittan,  which 

>  Bee  AUgeneitw  Muiikxeitvng,  1888. 


1 38  TSISTAS  ASD  ISOLDS  IN  mnflCB 

won  not  given  till  Juiw  10.  H?  had  ta  get  what  oon- 
aoliitioit  he  could  from  thp  account  sent  to  him  by  the 
priii«i|kal  artist,  Sohuorr:  — 

"I'ho  iKirfonEiiuic*  traot  oS  t'rf  w^ll,  knd  «ltb(»£h  D17  wifa 
1TM  not  'lultn  rrii'Ttrwl,  (he  did  wou(I«ra,  and  curied  everytfaiiig 
»ff.  Hiprp  wcrv  rnthiHlaAta  OfttlB  kttrc  ereiy  act,  knd  kfiei  tbe 
Irul  wo  Imd  thn  ptnuun  to  Mnff  out  Wagner  in  our  midEt  before 
llip  npi'UiiilInK  aiKllcneo.  .  .  .  Th«  wonl  hu  gone  oal  into  all  the 
world  with  a  ndjuhVf  MUad.  Ko  wr  oui  henc«fonii  close  ItseU 
•t|>iii«t  tlilii  wroiulroua  It^nd.  Triatan  is  born  again,  and  Dr. 
IUll■blll^k  (hV)  liiuitMlhbvacn'.  .  .  .  Among  tboee  «^o  ctayed 
the  wIioId  UiiiP  wctt)  Dribekr.  Piwtcw,  IlaniroBch,  Gaeperlni,  Taa-  ' 
aif,  1'ohl,  Taiilipn,  NMwabda.  KaUiwodi,  Pmckner,  Se;dd.  ate.** 

Tlirw  mort'  performauoes  followed,  on  June  1^  lU^ 
and  July  1.  i\\l  before  crowded  housosi  wiummfoa 
Holiiiorr  relucUnitly  returned  to  I>n0den. 

STORY  OF  THE  DRAMA 
Act  I.  Isolde,  daughter  of  the  King  of  Ireland,  was 
engaged  to  Morold,  her  eoiisiu.  Morold  went  to  Corn- 
wall to  collect  the  customary  tribute,  but  was  slain  by 
Tristan,  nephew  of  King  Marke  of  Cornwall.  In  place 
of  the  expected  tribute  Tristan  sent  Morold's  head  to 
Isolde.  But  Tristan  himself  had  been  wounded  In  the 
affray,  and  resolved  to  seek  the  assistance  of  Isolde, 
who  had  learned  from  her  mother  the  magic  art  of  heal- 
ing. He  came  under  the  assumed  name  of  Tantris;  but 
Isolde  recognized  him  as  Tristan,  for  she  discovered  in 
his  sword  a  notch  into  which  a  piece  of  iron  she  had 
extracted  from  Morold's  head  fitted  exactly.  She  raised 
her  sword  to  avenge  her  lover's  death;  when  suddenly, 
meeting  Tristan's  eyes,  she   became  overpowered  by  a 


8T0BT  OF  THS  DRAMA  1S9 

strong  emotion,  and  allowed  him  to  depart  withont  reveal- 
ing her  discoTery.  After  his  rettum  to  Comwall,  Tris- 
tan joins  those  who  are  urging  King  Marke  to  many 
again.  He  induces  the  King  to  despatch  him  ^ain  to 
Ireland  to  sue  for  Isolde  as  his  fatnre  queen. 

These  events,  preceding  the  drama,  are  related  in  the 
exposition,  with  the  author's  usual  dramatic  skill.  When 
the  curtain  rises,  the  prow  of  the  vessel  on  which  Tristan 
has  brought  Isolde  to  the  coast  of  Cornwall  is  before  the 
spectator.  Isolde  is  an  unwilling  bride,  for  she  secretly 
loves  Tristan,  and  is  forious  because  he,  with  seeming  in- 
difference, has  wooed  her  for  another,  and,  in  obedience 
to  the  custom  which  forbids  the  suitor  to  see  the  bride 
on  the  journey,  refuses  to  leave  the  helm  and  come  and 
speak  to  her,  even  after  her  companion  BrangSne  has  deliv- 
ered her  message  to  him.  She  expresses  her  passionate 
regrets  that  she  has  not  inherited  the  ancestral  art  of  com- 
manding the  waves,  that  she  might  invite  their  destruc- 
tion together.  All  that  her  mother  had  been  able  to  do 
for  her  was  to  give  her  a  golden  casket  with  magic  vials, 
one  of  which  contains  a  love  potion  potent  to  inflame  the 
passions  of  any  one  and  were  he  as  old  ae  King  Marke. 
But  there  is  another  vial,  carefully  marked  by  Isolde, 
containing  a  death  potion.  This  she  commands  Bran- 
g&ue  to  pour  into  the  golden  cup,  and  then  sends  her 
once  more  to  Tristan  with  the  mess£^  that  she  will 
refuse  to  go  ashore  unless  he  comes  first  to  obtain  her 
pardon.  Tristan  obeys.  In  reply  to  her  taunt  that  he 
slew  her  lover  whereas  she  saved  and  spared  Am  life 
when  it  was  in  her  power,  he  sadly  offers  his  sword  and 
bids  her,  if  Morold  was  so  dear  to  her,  to  take  her  re- 
venge now.     As  she  replies,  with  bitter  irony,  which  ill 


140  TBI8TAN  ABD  IKOMi  Ot^^nrNK^ 

conceals  her  love,  the  cries  of  tiie  mBsisB  iiidieato  that 
the  harbor  is  close  at  hand.  ITo  tinie  li  to  te  loet.  She 
beckons  to  Brangftne  to  bring  the  dea^b  poUon  ttid  offers 
it  to  Tristan,  who  oomj^^eheiids  HbB  tttoiittoii  and  pfdts 
the  welcome  cap  to  his  willing  lips «— fivr  be  too  is  de* 
▼oared  by  a  secret  passion,  and  prefers  IminiyHats  death 
to  a  life  of  hopeless  lore-longing.  "WHSi  Hud  words 
'' Treason  here  tool"  Isolde  snatches  tiie  half^emptied 
cap  from  his  lips  and  drinks  what  is  left.  ,  Bat  Bran* 
gftne  had  secretly  substitiited  the  loTe  potion  for  the 
poison,  as  the  lesser  eyil  of  tWd.  The  weird  and  tliriU- 
ing  love-motive  is  heard  in  the  orchestra^  first  bdow, 
then  on  the  highest  tremolo  notes  of  the  Tiolins.  As  it 
grows  more  intense  and  passionate,  its  strains  ard  re- 
flected in  the  mimic  action  of  the  two  lovers,  whose 
sullen  resolve  to  die  gradually  changes  to  the  rapturous 
ecstasy  of  amorous  intoxication,  till  they  meet  in  a  pas- 
sionate embrace.  At  this  moment  the  ship  has  arrived 
in  the  harbor.  The  curtain  that  has  shut  off  the  sight 
of  the  poop  is  pushed  aside,  and  we  behold  the  men 
swinging  their  hats  anil  greeting  the  King,  who  ap- 
proaches on  a  small  boat  to  meet  his  bride,  while  his 
castle  is  seen  towering  above  the  cliffs  on  the  coast. 

Act  n.  Isolde  is  soon  to  be  married  to  the  King,  but 
her  heart  is  with  Tristan,  and  the  one  longing  of  her 
soul  is  for  the  end  of  the  hateful  day  and  the  approach 
of  night  when  she  may  see  her  lover.  She  is  with 
Brang^e  in  a  beautiful  garden  adjoining  her  apart- 
ments. It  is  a  warm  summer  night.  A  torch  is  burn- 
ing, the  extinction  of  which  is  to  announce  to  Tristan 
that  all  is  safe  for  a  clandestine  interview.  Oradually 
dying  away  in  the  distance  we  hear  two  sets  of  forest 


BTORT  OF  TBS  hSAllA  141 

horns  responding  to  each  other  in  different  keys,  and 
forming  with  the  dreamy  orcbestral  harmonies  the  moBt 
exquisite  tone-picture  ever  conceived.  The  infatuated 
Isolde  fancies  these  sounds  are  but  the  murmurings  of 
the  leaves  trembling  in  the  breezes.  The  more  sober 
Brang&ne  knows  that  what  they  hear  are  the  boms  of 
the  King's  attendants,  and  suspects  that  the  hunting 
expedition  is  a  mere  sham  to  put  them  off  their  guard. 
For  one  of  the  oonrtiers,  Melot,  is  jealous  of  Tristan, 
and  has  resolved  to  betray  him  to  die  King,  in  whose 
company  he  intends  to  surprise  the  lovers.  But  Isolde 
is  deaf  to  BrangAne's  warnings.  She  dashes  the  torch  to 
the  ground,  where  it  is  eztinguishedi  and  in  a  few 
moments  Tristan  comes,  as  if  borne  along  on  the  tumnl* 
tuous  tone-waves  of  the  music.  In  words  and  tones  that 
are  the  very  onomatopceia  of  passion,  the  elemental 
language  of  emotion,  a  wonderful  love-duet  followsj 
in  which  the  praises  of  night  are  sung  as  against  the 
spiteful  day,  whose  symbol,  the  torch,  had  so  long 
delayed  the  meeting  of  the  lovers.  In  a  mutual  embrace, 
forgetful  of  all  the  world,  they  gradually  sink  down  on 
a  dower-bench.  The  bench  is  on  the  stage,  the  flowers 
are  heard.  The  orchestra  becomes  a  perfect  Oriental 
garden  of  fresh  and  fragrant  melodies,  some  of  them, 
like  tuberose  or  hyacinth,  almost  overpowering  in  their 
sweetness.  The  scene  is  one  long  nocturne,  in  which  the 
dreamy,  sweet,  and  exquisitely  tender  leads  gmdually 
to  an  outburst  of  excitement  and  unbounded  passion 
which  is  the  superlative  climax  of  all  music.  To  quote 
the  poetic  paraphrase  of  Catulle  Mend^s :  — 

"  Puerile  from  excess  of  joy,  they  content  theniHlvea  with  these 
two  nanus  pionoanced  together,  Tristan  and  Isolde!  .  ,  ,    Bat 


14i  T&IBTAN  AND  ISOLDE  IS  MU1HC3 

wbat  13  this  —  a  syllable  sepamting  these  two  words?  There  Is 
■oniething  between  Tristan  and  Isolde  1  Tliese  tiiree  letters  form 
an  odious  barrier ;  it  must  not  be  Tristan  and  Isolde,  but  Tristan- 
Isolde.  .  .  .  Tlioy  lose  tbemselves  in  the  Nirvana  of  Love,  and 
already,  having  ceased  to  be,  retaining  of  their  individual  love  but 
a  vague,  delicious  feeling,  they  disaolve  Into  their  common  soul, 
which,  large  and  unfathomable,  seema  Uj  them  the  aoul  of  the 

At  its  very  climax  tbia  encliantiiig  loTe-sceoe  is  oraelly 
interrupted.  Brangfine'a  suspicions  were  well  founded. 
The  King,  followed  by  Melot  and  attendants,  suddenly 
appears  and  addresses  a  string  of  bitter  reproaches  to  his 
nephew  and  benefactor.  Tristan,  still  in  the  trance  of 
love,  replies  dreamily  that  be  has  nothing  to  say,  then 
turns  to  Isolde,  asks  if  she  will  follow  him  to  the  land 
where  the  light  of  the  sun  does  not  shine,  and  kisses 
her  gently  on  tlie  forehead.  At  this  Melot  rualies  for- 
ward, shouting  "Treason,"  and  stabs  him. 

Act  III.  The  wound  was  not  fatal,  for  in  the  third 
act  we  again  behold  Tristan  on  a  couch,  unconscious,  in 
the  yard  in  front  of  his  castle  in  Bretagne,  whither 
Kurvenal  had  conveyed  him  after  the  affray  with  Melot. 
Kurvenal  had  secretly  sent  for  Isolde,  hoping  that  she 
might  once  more  cure  Tristan's  wound.  A  shepherd 
has  been  stationed  on  the  rocks  to  watch  for  the  ship's 
approach.  His  quaintly  mournful  melody  is  heard  alone 
for  several  minutes,  after  the  beautiful  sad  orchestral 
introduction,  and  indicates  that  the  ship  is  not  yet  in 
sight.  Suddenly  the  melody  becomes  excited  and  joy- 
ous; the  ship  is  coming,  and  Kurvenal  mshea  off  to 
meet  Isolde.  While  he  is  away  Tristan,  delirious  with 
excitement,  tears  the  bandage  from  his  wound  just  as 
Isolde  is  beard  calling  out  bis  name.     She  arrives  in 


A  POEM  FOB  P0ST8  148 

time  to  bear  his  last  word,  "Isolde,"  and  to  catch  Ma 
lifeless  body  in  her  arms.  As  she  bends  over  him, 
bitterly  repioacbing  him  for  leaving  her  at  this  mo- 
ment, the  shepherd  rushes  in  to  announce  the  arrival 
of  a  second  ship,  with  the  King  on  board.  The  gate 
is  quickly  barricaded.  Korvenal,  after  slaying  Melot, 
himself  receives  a  deadly  wound  and  Ealls  down  by  the 
side  of  Tristan's  body.  The  catastrophe  was  needless; 
for  the  King,  having  heard  from  Brangfine  the  secret  of 
the  irresistible  love-potion,  had  pardoned  Tristan,  and 
come,  not  to  reclaim  Isolde,  but  to  unite  her  with  him 
in  marriage.  Isolde  recovers  for  a  moment  to  sing  those 
pathetically  beautiful  last  strains,  celebrating,  as  Schur^ 
finely  ex^vesses  it,  "the  marriage  of  two  sister-souls 
with  the  world-soul." 

A  POEM  FOB  POETS 

In  speaking  of  Tristan  and  Isolde  one  feels  like  the 
lover  who  sighs  for  something  stronger  than  a  superla- 
tive to  express  his  admiration.  It  forms,  with  Shake- 
speare's .Borneo  and  Juiiet,  and  Goethe's  Faust,  part  of 
the  world's  great  Trilogy  of  love-tragedies.  Of  action, 
in  the  ordinary  theatric  sense  of  the  word,  there  is  little 
in  it,  except  in  the  first  act  and  toward  the  end  of  the 
third.  That  Wagner,  nevertheless,  distinguished  Tristan 
above  all  his  other  works  by  the  name  of  "action" 
(HamUung)  may  be  partly  due  to  the  &ct  that  he 
objected  to  the  word  "music-drama"  on  historic  and 
philological  grounds.  Partly,  however,  the  special 
claims  of  this  work  to  the  word  "drama,"  in  its  literal 
sense,  may  be  made  clear  in  this  way :  The  proper  aim 
of  a  drama  is  to  represent  the  growth  and  oonfiict  of 


144      TBisTAn  Ajn>  Mt&aoi  ormuwam 

emotions.  This  end  la  usually  bait  attalaad  by  rapid 
and  exciting  action.  Btit  if  a  dzamatial  can  atir  fhe  aool 
to  its  inmost  depths  with  a  aimple  aiOtiiQl^  aJDl  the  moie 
honor  is  due  to  his  genhia.  TtkUm  ia  aaaiofeicHia),  like 
no  other  art  work  eTer  ereatedj  it  ia  a  la^a-alraam  of 
passionate  poetry  and  amorcntt  mvrio;  hidaedf  if  any 
objection  to  it  can  be  snatainedi  it  ia  that- the  emotional 
tension  in  it  is  too  grea%  too  oonatant.  That  it  appeals 
to  emotions  to  whioh  ordinary  mortala  are  atrangevBy  or 
which  they  consider  aa  exaggerated^  ia  not  ita  ttxdt, 
bat  constitutes  its  greatneaa.  It  waa  not  writtai  for 
Philistines ;  Wagner  wrote  it  for  himaelf  and  for  flioae 
who  are  able  to  follow  him  into  the  tropiBal  ng^Ma  of 
art  and  ethics.  It  ia  a  poem  for  p06t%  a  aeora  for 
musicians. 

A  poem  for  poets,  because  of  the  variety  and  subtlety 
of  its  psychologic  motives.  Bead  and  reread  it  a  dozen 
times,  and  you  will  always  find  new  beauties,  new  links 
connecting  the  different  parts  of  the  plot,  just  as  in 
studying  the  score  you  become  more  and  more  amazed 
at  the  intricacy,  yet  simplicity,  and  the  significance  of 
the  melodic  web  of  leading  motives.  Although  poetic 
imagery  is  less  essential  in  a  musical  drama  than  in  a 
literary  drama,  because  there  the  music  supplies  the 
appeal  to  the  feelings  for  which  a  poet  usually  resorts 
to  similes,  Wagner's  Tristan  poem,  nevertheless,  is  full 
of  exquisite  imagery  which  alone  would  put  him  in  the 
^  front  rank  of  German  poets.  The  extraordinary  com- 
mand of  all  the  resources  of  his  language  whioh  enables 
him  not  only  to  present  his  dramatic  thoughts  with  rare 
conciseness  but  to  choose  for  its  expression  apt  alliter- 
ation and  assonance,  often  combined  beautifully  with 


A  POEit  FOB  P0XT8  146 

luyme,  — which  in  a  mosic-diama  is  almost  like  paint- 
ing the  lily,  —  suggests  the  verbal  fluency  of  Mr.  Swin- 
burne (who  has  always  been  a  great  admirer  of  Wa^gaet's 
poetry).  There  are  pages  in  this  poem  on  which  every 
line  is  a  picture.  This  remarkable  concentration  of 
thought  suggests  the  choruses  of  Greek  tragedy;  and 
some  of  the  musical  critics  who  have  undertaken  to  com- 
ment on  Wagner's  poem  seem  to  have  had  as  toilsome 
and  hopeless  a  time  in  their  efforts  to  comprehend  him 
as  their  philologic  colleagues  have  had  with  the  choruses 
of  .^Bchylus.  To  a  person  of  general  culture,  however, 
there  is  not  an  obscure  line  in  the  Tristan  poem;  indeed, 
those  that  seem  obscure  at  first  are  found  to  be  the  most 
pregnant  with  meaning. 

The  subject  itself  has  been  a  favorite  one  of  poets  of 
all  countries  for  almost  a  thousand  years.  It  is  the 
finest  of  all  Celtic  legends,  and  in  Cornwall  the  supposed 
grave  of  Tristan  and  Isolde  Ib  still  shown  to  visitors,  as 
is  Juliet's  tomb  at  Verona.  The  legend  relates  that  over 
the  grave  of  Tristan  and  Isolde  once  grew  a  vine  and  a 
rosebush  so  closely  intertwined  that  they  could  not  be 
separated  without  destroying  both.  To  this  famous 
legend  Wagner  was,  as  he  relates  (VI,  378),  attracted  not 
only  by  its  intrinsic  beauty,  but  by  its  remarkable  affini- 
ties to  the  Siegfried  legend,  on  which  he  was  occupied 
when  practical  considerations  compelled  him  to  interrupt 
his  Tetralogy.  Like  Siegfried,  Tristan  is  fated  to  woo 
bis  own  love  for  another,  and  in  both  cases  a  magic 
potion  comes  into  play.  But  while  in  the  Q6tterd&m- 
memng  the  catastrophe  is  the  hero's  death,  in  Trutan 
the  emphasis  is  placed  on  the  anguish  of  hopeless  love, 
which  fills  out  the  three  long  acts. 


TBISTAN  AND  ISOLDM  IN  UVNtCB 


A   SCORE  FOB   MUSICIANS 

A  German  critic,  Louis  EoUer,  oneo  said  there  were 
two  kinds  of  ramposere,  —  those  who  make  music  and 
those  who  make  the  music  —  or  as  we  should  suy  in 
English,  those  who  simply  write  muaio  and  those  who  cre- 
ate it,  i.e.  provide  new  harmonic,  melodic,  and  rhythmic 
material.  In  this  sense,  the  four  greatest  composers  the 
world  has  ever  seen  are>  in  my  opinion,  Bach,  Schubert, 
Chopin,  and  Wagner.  And  if  we  take  single  works  to 
compare  in  point  of  originality  and  oreativeneas,  the 
palm  must,  I  am  convinced,  be  given  to  Tristan  and 
boMe.  It  is  a  work  which  raises  the  whole  art  of  music 
to  a  nt!W  level,  a  summit  whence  we  see  all  that  has  gone 
before  in  musical  evolution,  while  an  entire  new  har- 
monic and  melodic  continent  is  revealed  for  future 
explorers.  To  change  the  simile,  the  Tristan  score  ia  a 
mine  in  which  composers  of  the  future  will  find  a  wealth 
of  new  musical  material  such  as  no  other  works  but 
Bach's  St.  Matthew's  Passion,  Schubert's  songs,  and 
Chopin's  Preludes  have  ever  revealed.' 

Tristan  is  a  score  for  musicians,  for  the  reason  just 
given.  But  that  does  not  any  the  less  make  it  a  score 
for  lay  men  and  women ;  for  men  and  women,  I  mean, 
who  go  to  the  theatre  for  the  nohle  emotional  gratifica- 
tion which  is  given  by  a  tragedy,  not  those  who  crave  for 
barrel-organ  tunes,  and  vocal  tight-rope  dancing  as  an 
aid  to  digesting  a  late  dinner;  for  men  and  women  who 
are  willing  to  give  serious  and  active  attention  to  what 

1 1  am  Bware  that  this  paragraph  will  make  the  luic  of  orthodox 
muaiciaiiB  sUdcI  on  end;  but  thnt  makes  no  difference.  Time,  11  they 
live  a  decade  or  two  longer,  will  comb  IL  down  again. 


A  SCOBS  FOB  MUSICIANS  147 

they  see  and  hear  imd  not  for  those  who  want  to  enjoy 
their  music  passively,  as  they  do  a  hot  bath.  The  marvel 
about  Tristan,  however,  is  that  although  it  is  the  most 
profound  and  inspired  musical  work  ever  written,  it 
really  requires  no  special  musical  aptitude  or  study  for 
its  appreciation  —  at  least  for  its  partial  appreciation. 
Ho  one  but  a  specialist  can  ever  know  all  the  marks  of 
genius  which  Wagner  has  chiselled  on  this  score  with 
the  microscopic  minuteness  of  a  Japanese  ivory-carrer. 
But  there  is  such  an  elemental  force  and  directness  of 
emotional  utterance  in  this  music, —  one  moment  stormy 
as  the  Haroh  Atlantic,  and  the  next  placid  as  an  August 
lake  by  moonlight,  —  that  even  persons  who  have  no 
technical  knowledge  of  mueie  are  thrilled  by  it,  and  feel 
how  it  intensifies  the  tragic  denouement  of  the  poem. 

Dr.  Hans  Ton  Bolow  had  the  honor  of  being  the  tirst 
man  who  saw  the  pages  of  ZVistan.  While  he  was 
arranging  the  orchestral  score  for  piano  at  Venice,  in 
September,  1858,  he  wrote  to  a  friend : '  — 

"  Ton  may  promise  yoniself  a  great  treat  I  Wagner,  considered 
pnrely  as  a  mnalclaii,  is  undergoing  a  remarkable  progresa  In  his 
development.  What  I  know  so  far  of  this  work  is  simply  superb, 
repiv^bly  poetic,  much  finer  in  details  than  Lohenffrin,  and 
everywhere  new,  bold,  original.  At  the  same  time  a  thematic 
elaboration  as  locld  ■■  it  is  lo^cal,  such  aa  no  open  heretoTore 
has  shown." 

Wagner  himself,  in  his  essay  on  Music  of  the  Future 
(VII.  160,  163),  has  these  interesting  remarks  to  offer 
on  his  score:  — 

"Tbii  work  I  am  willing  to  sntimlt  to  the  severest  tests  that 
rasnlt  from  my  theoretic  aMertiou* ;  not  because  I  formed  it  In 


148      TBI8TAV  AMmaa^mat  wmttm 

aocoxdanee  with  my  th60iy,-«te  all  teoix.iVM  namtiMtf  to- 
gotten  by  me, —bat  beouiie  hen  at  Init  I  mond  abMit  wlOi  4iw 
utmost  freedom  and  tlie  moat  abaoliita  din^gMd  to  atfasy  tiwo- 
letical  consideration,  in  andli  a.manner  that  In  the  ooozae  of  the 
eitecation  I  became  awaira  that  I  went  to  beyond  my  q^rten. 
Believe  me,  there  is  no  greater  ^itoaiwue  iSbma  Ihia  pectot  fBsedim 
of  thought  daring  compoaitioii,  aneh  aa  I  fait  whfla  at  wokIl  on 
IHitoa.  Perhaps  it  becamapoiHihla  to  ma  only  tooi^^thiBt  that 
a  preceding  period  of  refleotkm  had  hiTifonted  ma  aonawhatltt  a 
shnilar  way  that  my  teacher  oooa  sawrted  that  he  had  ghao  me 
strength  by  teaching  me  the  moat  difHoolt  eontnpiiiital  aria— 
strength  not  to  write  fogoea,  bat  to  aeovre  what  atone  wa  aoqpfaa 
through  strict  exercise —IndependMiee^  omnfldenee.^ 

Bdlow's  assertion  that  no  previooa  opera  emt  eompoaed 
was  characterized  by  suoh  loeid  and  logioal  ttMmatie 
elaboratioiii  hits  the  nail  on  the  head.  Herd^  for  the 
first  time^  was  a  musical  score  to  which  the  test  could 
be  applied  concerning  which  an  English  critic  of  litera- 
ture has  said:  '^  It  is  the^pe^ection  of  good  English  that 
jj^gejahould  cohere  with  page  in  such  a  manner  that  only 
here  and  there  can  a  few  paragraphs  be  remoyed  without 
doing  injustice  to  them."  That  the  (German  critics  of 
thirty  years  ago  should  have^  almost  unanimouslyi 
pronounced  this  score  "formless/'  is  one  of  those  extiu- 
ordinary  phenomena  which  will  serve  for  the  amazement 
and  delectation  of  future  generations.  It  was  called 
"formless  "  because  it  did  not  follow  the  slovenly  custom 
of  making  a  simple  mosaic  of  independent  and  uncon- 
nected arias,  duos,  choruses^  and  ballets^  and  calling  it 
an  opera!  The  gigantic  intellects  of  these  critics  could 
not  comprehend  the  simple  fact  that  a  work  of  Bxt,  like 
an  animal,  to  be  "organically"  formed,  must  be. united 
in  aU  its  partSj  and  not,  like  the  old-fashioned  opera^ 


A  8C0BE  FOB  MUBlCIANa  149 

asgiDg-<^  tmconnecfed  parts.  The  subtlety  with  which 
Wagner  concatenated  every  bar  of  Tristan  with  every 
other  bar  in  the  score  by  means  of  reminiscent,  charac- 
teristic melodies,  affords  on  every  page  evidence  of  his 
subtle  genius  and  amazing  technical  skill.  But  this 
whole  question  of  Leading  Motives  will  be  treated  in  a 
special  chapter,  later  on.^ 

The  assertion  that  Tristan  marks  a  new  epoch  in  the 
evolution  and  ereaJtion  of  music  calls  for  a  few  more 
specifications.  We  have  just  seen  how  it  revolutionized 
^Q^Jorm  of  dramatic  music  by  what  Billow  calls  its  un- 
precedented^^ lucid  and  logical  thematic  elaboration,'' 
or,  more  definitely,  by  the  establishment  of  a  genuinely 
organic  connection  of  all  parts  of  the  drama  —  the  dra- 
maJtis  personoB  being  characterized  as  consistently  in  the 
music  as  in  the  poem.  No  less  progressive  is  THstan 
in  all  the  material  factors  of  music  —  Instrumentation, 
Harmony,  Melody,  Rhythm.*  The  innovations  in  the 
orchestration  are  those  which  first  move  the  average 
opera-goer.  If  a  painter  should  discover  and  use  a  new 
spectrum  with  colors  never  before  seen  by  mortal  eyes, 
he  would  do  for  the  sense  of  sight  what  Wagner  has 
done  in  Tristan  for  the  ear.     What  a  marvellous  variety 

1  Elaborate  analyses  of  the  motives  in  this  score .  (and  the  other 
music-dramas)  may  be  found  in  Hans  von  Wolzogen's  Thematisclier 
Leitfaden,  A.  Heintze's  Tristan  und  Isolde,  Gustav  Kobb^'s  Woffner 
Bioffraphy.  In  H.  E.  Krehbiel's  Studies  in  the  Wagnerian  Drama 
there  is  an  interesting  comparison  of  Wagner's  version  of  the  Tristan 
Legend  with  those  of  Malory,  Matthew  Arnold,  Tennyson,  and  Swin- 
burne. 

*  The  fact  that  two  dramas  of  the  Tetralogy  were  completed  before 
Tristan,  is  overlooked  here,  not  only  becaose  Tristan  was  prodnced 
before  those  other  works,  but  because  it  is  more  radical  in  its  methods 
and  deeper  in  its  inspiration.  It  marks  the  climax  of  Wagner's  creative 
activity. 


150 


TBisTAN  Axnb  mourn' at  wnmm 


^ft^me^orsy  many  of  tbem  «nlaidyrMwr<aLfliajniiriflai 
palettes,,  has  he  layished  on  this  MOiel    Tet  all  HdB 

^Bensuoiis  beauty  is  plaeedegiaiely  in  tibe  serrioe  of  tibe 
^amatic  emotion  which  it  ia  intended  to  jatensifr*  At 
l^iSFduch  is  nis  intention;  the  oxehesti%  he  bujb,  ahoold 
never  attract  attention  to  itself  bat  ^should  serve 
merely  as  a  coloring  material  to  beautify  and  enqihidBe 
the  action."  Shall  we  ohide  him  ii^  in  TH&km,  tibe 
orchestra  dgeg^sometimeejggnaj^etely  abeoirb  oar  atten- 
tion,—especL^Jyln  the  liove-itao^  — m  epite  ci  liH  Aeo- 
ries  and  itif^nfimifly-  i^ntA  ^1  JTRmy  i^^fln^  an^  rol^dnad 

^e  instrumentation Ja?  how  the  strings  and  wwd*wiiid 
prevail,  the  brass  being  used  chiefly  to  eioieli  iiit  har- 
monic tone-colors,  except  at  a  climax.^  • 

While  the  new  orchestral  colors  in  TWaton  fascinate 
every  one  from  the  beginning,  the  equally  OQgiiUhLimd 
much  more  important  new  .hgjmonicLjprogres^aMU-ajid 
modulations  a;re  apt  at  first  to  repel  a  certain  dass  of 
hearers  whose  brains  do  not  readily  assimilate  new 
impressions.  Indeed,  from  the  severe  and  (sometimes, 
at  least)  sincere  condemnation  of  modem  discords  pro- 
nounced by  conservative  critics  one  would  infer  that 
they  actually  give  them  physical  pain.  This  is  to  be 
regretted;  but  if  these  persons  will  read  a  history  of 
music  they  will  discover  that  conservative  minds  were 
always  thus  affected  whenever  an  epoch-making  composer 
enlarged  the  freedom  of  hann^c  progi^eaaions.  The 
appreciation  of  harmony  is,  in  fact,  entirely  an  acquired 

1  Bat  the  "  boUer-factory  "  joke  continnes  to  floarish  in  spite  of  the 
fact  that  the  principal  objection  advanced  against  TrUtan  by  the  box- 
holders  of  the  Metropolitan  Opera-honse  in  New  York  was  that  the 
mnsie  was  so  soft  that  it  did  not  permit  of  the  usual  operatic  oonywia- 
tion  without  eliciting  a  chorus  of  hisses ! 


A  SCOBS  FOB  XVBlCIASa  161 

taste;  the  ancient  Greeks  had  none,  and  It  is  only 
within  the  last  three  centoties  that  it  has  become  an  im- 
portant element  in  mosio  —  to-day  the  most  important  of 
all.  When,  at  the  beginning  of  the  Bcventeeoth  century, 
the  "Italian  Wagner,"  Monteverde,  boldly  used  such  a 
horrid  discord  as  the  tmprepared  dominant  seventh  — 
which  to-day  enters  into  the  simplest  pastoral  and 
cradle  songs  —  Dr. Hanslick  —  beg  pardon!  —  Signor 
Axtusi  wrote  a  severe  treatise  on  The  Imperfectiotu  of 
Modem  Music  (2  vols.  1600  to  1630)  in  which  he  accused 
Monteverde  of  having  "  lost  sight  of  the  proper  function 
of  music,  which  is  to  give  pleasure."  Strange  to  say, 
every  one  of  the  great  composers  foUowii^  Monteverde 
"foi^t  the  proper  function  of  music,"  if  we  are  to  be- 
lieve the  Hanslicks  of  their  period.  Mozart's  maxim 
that  music  should  "please  "  even  in  heart-rending  situa- 
tions is  often  quoted.  But  Mozart's  best  music  did  not 
"please"  his  contemporaries.  The  Austrian  Emperor 
voiced  the  general  sentiment  when  he  said  there  were 
"too  many  notes"  in  one  of  his  operas;  to  which  Mozart 
boldly  replied:  "Precisely  as  many  as  there  ought  to 
be."' 

To  realize  the  extraordinary  harmonic  originality  of 
Wagner,  we  must  bear  in'mmd  that  he  outstripped  his 
generation  not  only  once,  like  Monteverde  and  Mozart, 
^d  the  other  great  composers,  but  twice.  The  criticisms 
quoted  in  preceding  chapters  show  how  far  ahead  of  their 
generation  Tannhduser  and  Lohengrin  were.  Even  the 
liberal  Spohr  —  noted  for  his  harmonic  boldness  —  drew 

1  Soma  of  Hotart'B  finest  qnkitata  were  ones  Mnt  back  to  the  palH 
lUbert  fioin  Florence,  In  the  belief  that  the  bold  and  hotbI  hkrmonlM 
la  tbem  were  mlipHnU. 


can  hear  this  whole  opera  wi 
To-day,  of  course,  Lohengrin 
according  to  Dr.  Hanslick  (P 
at  the  Uniyersity  of  Vienna 
formance  would  be  equivalent 
as  well  as  the  hearers  " ;  while 
critic,  Louis  Ehlert,  wrote  ii 
modulations  in  Parsifal^  that  ^ 
composers  modify  our  harmonic 
sity  for  ''criminal  assault '^  {Ver 
the  farce  goes  on  merrily,  from  g 
Thousands,  even  of  those  who  ha 
grin,  naively  fancied  —  as  musics 
that  the  limits  of  their  own  intell 
of  musical  evolution,  and  indignai 
run  against  a  Tristan.     What  fool 
If  those  who  ciy  out  against 
cause  they  are  not  ''beautiful" 
apply  their  theory  to  the  literary  < 
at  once  how  ridiculous  it  is.     Kin 
ful,"  neither  is  Othello.    The  emo 
are  those  of  tragic  passion,  grandei 
sadness,  but  not  the  tender  emot 
the  Beautiful.     In  the  songs  as 
Elsa,  Wagner  has  shown  that  n( 
beautiful  music  than  hf^-  ^ 
ant  "Dafl"**^ — 


A  SCOBS  FOB  MUSICIANS  163 

alatigne  alone  can  ex^reas  tragic  ^Qsiooa;  JQSt  as  a 
dramatiBt  in  a  thrilling  situation  does  not  break  the 
spell  b;  letting  some  one  prematurely  tell  how  it  is  all 
going  to  end,  so  Wagner  avoida  cadences  and  premature 
concords,  and  passes  on  "from  one  discord  to  another, 
tCus  keeping  the  feelings  of  the  hearer  at  a  high  state 
of  tension  until  the  end  is  reached.  The  younger  gen- 
eration of  musicians  love  Wagner's  discords  and  modu- 
lations, as  they  do  those  of  Chopin,  because  they  afford 
a  glimpse  into  hitherto  unsuspected  relationships  be- 
tween remote  keys;  for  discord  is  but  "harmony  ill 
understood."  They  love  them  also  because  to  them  they 
owe  the  aesthetic  pleasure  of  sadness,  which  is  so  much 
more  intense  than  the  pleasure  of  joy. 

Technically,*  it  may  be  said  in  brief  that  historians 
of  the  fatore  will  record  as  one  of  Wagner's  greatest 
achierementa  that  in  IViatan  he  made  harmonies  of  the 
ninth  as  natural  as  chords  of  the  seventh.  To  me  — 
and  I  am  sure  to  many  others  —  chords  of  the  ninth  are 
not  discords,  but  the  most  voluptuous  of  concords,  espe- 
cially in  the  great  love-duo,  where  they  are  as  common  as 
the  major  triad  is  in  ordinary  music.  'So  other  com- 
poser has  known  how  to  use  these  delicious  "discords  " 
for  such  ravishing  modulations.  Let  me  add  the  words 
of  a  specialist,  Professor  J.  C.  Fillmore:  — 

"The  eaaeDtial  pecnllarity  of  Wagner's  faannoniefl  lies  In  his 
recDgnmoo  of  tbe  value  and  natnralneBB  of  tiie  thiid  and  sixUi 
reUtlonahlpe.  There  had  been  hlnla  of  this  in  Beethoven,  Schu- 
bert and  otheis.  But  in  Wagner  the  principle  comea,  for  tbe  flnt  . 
time,  to  lU  fnll  rect^nltion  and  appieciaUon.  He  broadened  the 
conception  of  tonality  to  Its  utmoat  limiia,  to  the  utter  confiuion 
o(  contempoiary  theoilits.   No  stricture  on  bitn  was  more  oonunoa 


154  TRISTAN  AND  ISOLDS  IS  MVNICB 

tbui  tlie  aesertioD  that  bis  music  was  void  _ol  tonality,  tt,  la  ttow 
begtnumg  (o  be  recognized  that  eveo  those  harmonic  connectionB 
in  bia  workD  which  once  seemed  moat  forced,  itrange,  and  lumat- 
ural,  aie  really  eimple  and  easily  comprcbended.  He  merely  dis- 
covered, clearly  recognized  and  applied,  certain  natural  principles 
of  harmonic  relationships  which  bad  been  oTerlooked  by  his  prede- 
cessors. This  is  ono  of  the  stroogost  evidences  of  his  genius.  It 
was  real  creative  insight." ' 

MELODY   VERSUS  TONE 

It  is  ii  curious  fact  that  in  one  point  of  musical  ter- 
minology the  English  language  has  an  advantage  over 
the  German,  We  have  the  word  tune  to  difitinguish 
dance-melody  from  what  may  be  called  dramatic  or  emo- 
tional melody;  whereas  Wagner,  when  he.wishedtomake 
clear  to  the  German  "  experts  "  the  differetuw  between 
tune  and  true  melody,  had  to  introduce  for  tiH  Utter 
the  Grfiek  word  tnelns.  To  the  illiterate  in  music,  "mel- 
ody "  always  means  tune.  If  you  were  invited  by  Texas 
cowboys  to  "give  us  a  tune,"  and  complied  by  playing 
sonietliing  by  Haydn  or  Mozart,  instead  of  Yankee  Doodle 
or  Fisher's  JJornpipe,  they  would  inform  you  that  they 
did  not  care  for  "scientific  music,"  or,  perhaps,  they 
would  ask  you  when  you  were  going  to  "quit  tuning  and 
begin  to  play."  Nor  would  you  blame  the  cowboys,  for 
they  cannot  be  expected  to  recognize  as  melody  anything 
that  is  not  "  quick  and  devilish,"  and  fit  to  be  danced  to. 
But  what  shall  we  say  to  the  fact  that,  only  a  few 
decades  ago,  the  leading  musical  critics  of  Europe  and 

1  The  words  of  Cervantes  that  "  Rood  wits  jump;  a  word  to  the  wise 
1b  enouKh,"  should  bo  borne  iu  mind  by  those  who  lind  no  "  eonnocting 
links  "  in  Wagner's  modiiliiliooH.  In  music  as  in  literature  geniaa  con- 
sists in  discovering  new  relationships  between  remote  things. 


MELODY  VERSUS  TUNH  155 

America  could  not  —  or  s&id  they  could  not  —  find  any 
melody  in  Wagner's  operas?  Even  Sienzi  was  "an 
opera  without  music,"  i.e.  melody.  Later  came  Lohen- 
grin "without  a  bar  of  melody,"  and  by  the  time  that  it 
had  become  orthodox  and  melodious  —  although  the 
opera  itself,  I  need  not  say,  had  not  been  changed  a  bit 
—  Tristan  bad  appeared,  to  be  in  turn  declared  unmelo- 
dious.  The  best-known  German  critic  of  this  genera- 
tion, Dr.  Hanslick,  wrote,  as  late  as  1883,  that  such 
"  continuous  melody  "  as  occurs  in  Triatan  is  not  true 
melody;  and  that  even  in  the  loi^  love-duo,  there  is 
only  one  melodic  pearl  I  H.  Dom  wrote,  in  1876,  that 
true  melody  "is  a  tare  thing  in  Wagner,  anyway;  in 
Tiittan  then  it  pra^icaUy  none  at  aUI"  And  Lonis 
Ehlert  asserted  that  Wagner  is  less  a  melodist  than  a 
Thetnatiker,  that  he  rarely  gives  us  more  than  the  "  bud  " 
of  a  melody  1 

Biaum  teneatia  amicif  But  W^ner  is  not  the  only 
composer  in  whom  these  funny  "experts"  found  no 
"melody."  Louis  Ehlert  wrote,  inhia  essay  on  Brahms, 
that  melody  is  the  "soul"  of  musics  that  it  is  rare  as 
pearls;  that  "Bach  and  Handel,  in  proportion  to  their 
other  grandeur,  had  it  in  no  great  measure "  1  And  the 
Austrian  critic,  Grillparzer  flatly  denied  that  there  was 
any  real  melody  in  Weber's  Euryajithel  So  the  "soul " 
of  music  is  not  to  be  sought  for  in  Bach  or  Handel  or 
Weber  or  Wagner!  For  that  we  must  go  to  the  tuneful 
Bellini  and  Balfe  and  Flotow.  What  an  extraordinary 
fact  here  stares  us  in  the  face  — the  fact  that  the  official 
esthetics  of  musical  criticism  in  Germany  up  to  the  last 
quarter  of  the  nineteenth  century,  was  identical  with  the 
taste  of  the  Texas  cowboy,  the  whistling  street  urchiSf 


t"-"^'^'  '°  for.  ^     . 


^s55^S5- 


*»»„""  "-114     ^^  sod  .•      '«"», 


MXLODT  rXB8U8  TUNE  167 

Wagner  referred,  in  his  superb  essay  on  the  Music  of 
the  Future  (IV.  166-173),  when  he  said  that  "it  belongs 
to  the  childhood  of  the  musical  art,  wherefore  the  exclu- 
sive delight  in  it  must  appear  to  us  childish."  It  must 
be  distinctly  understood  that  he  did  not  deny  the  proper 
uses  and  value  of  such  dance-tunes.  He  paid  his  willing 
tribute  to  the  pretty  airs  of  Bellini  and  Rossini;  what 
he  denied  was  that  the  musio-drama  is  the  proper  place 
for  such  tunes  —  tunes  which,  in  the  old-fashioned 
Italian  opera,  are  always  of  about  the  same  character, 
and  adorned  with  the  same  merry  runs  and  trills,  whether 
the  situation  be  a  wedding  or  a  funeral  or  a  mad-scene. 

The  blunder  made  by  the  Texas  cowboys  and  by 
Messrs.  Hanslick,  Dom,  Eblert,  and  Orillparzei,  is  that 
they  mistake  the  simplest,  crudest,  and  most  primitive 
form  of  melody  —  dance-tune  —  for  melody  itself.  There 
is  a  nobler  kind  of  melody  —  dramatic  melody,  which 
ranks  as  highly  above  this  dance-tune  as  a  Shakespearian 
drama  does  above  a  pantomimic  ballet.  The  dance  is 
entirely  out  of  place  in  a  serious  drama.  Wagner  not 
only  eliminates  the  ridiculous  ballet  from  the  plot, 
he  alsb~?HJSmaies  the  dance-rhytfims  from  the  melody,  fol- 
lowing the  precedence  of  Mozart  and  Weber  in  their 
most  inspired  moments  (in  Don  Juan  and  Euryanthe). 
This  is  perhaps  the  greatest  of  all  his  great  achieve- 
ments; it  inaugurates  a  new  era  in  dramatic  music.  The 
difference  between  his  method  and  the  old  style  may  be 
made  clear  in  this  way : '  in  dance-tunes,  at  the  end  of 
every  four,  eight,  or  sixteen  bars,  there  is  a  cadence, 
analogous  to  an  end-rhyme.  These  systematic  cadences 
seem  very  tiresome  and  superfluous  to  a  modem  listener; 
they  remind  him  sometimes  of  a  grasshopper  which  flies 


168 


TBI8TAN  ASJtUMMI^tmamiiffm 


eight  feet|  alights,  flies  ei|^t  moze^  and  so  on.  K<nr 
Wagner  scorns  this  eig^t-bar  anangenAnfc  (whieh^  nor 
cording  to  the  "experts '^  is  essential  to  tme  melodyl) 
and  seldom  uses  a  cadeno%  <.s.  tooehes  gronad^  eioepfc  ait 

£KF6n£L  of  an  act.  His  melody,  ' 
sweep  —  it  is  continuous,  uninfterrupted,  IOdo  the  lofty 
flight  of  an  eagle,  and  in  its  most  sublime  momenfci 
affects  the  imagination  like  the  irresistible  movement  of 
a  planet.  It  is  this  elementary  force  and  graadeur— • 
this  overarching  of  a  whole  act  with  an  unbroken  mdody 
—  this  gradual  unfolding  of  a  stately  osik  from  a  simple 
melodic  acorn  (Leading  Hotiye)  -^  that  imposes  on  tiie 
unmusical  alike  with  ^the  truly  musicaL  But  in  iatoo* 
ducing  such  an  innovation  in  operatie  melody,  he  seemed 
indeed  a  bold  bad  man.  The  babes  cried  for  their  toys; 
he  gave  them  no  eight-bar  tunes  to  whistle  in  the  street 
or  to  have  the  barrel-organs  grind  out  for  them.  If  all 
literary  dramas  had  up  to  date  been  written  in  rhymed 
verse  and  a  powerful  author  suddenly  appeared  who  used 
only  the  continuous  melody  of  prose,  the  case  would  be 
analogous  to  Wagner's.  It  is  needless  to  add  that  this 
does  not  affect  the  poetic  character  of  Wagner's  music. 
Much  of  our  best  poetic  literature  has  the  form  of  prose, 
and  the  (Germans  very  sensibly  give  the  name  of  poet 
not  only  to  verse-makers  but  to  all  who  devote  them- 
selves to  belles  lettres. 

Wagner's  treatment  of  melody  inaugurates,  as  I  have 
just  said,  a  new  era  in  dramatic  music :  it  makes  litera- 
ture (dramatic  poetry)  the  basis  of  musical  form,  in  place 
of  the  steps  of  the  dance-hall.  His  melody  is  construfited. 
on  dramatic,  psychological  principles;  that  is,  it  is  ready 
to  duxnge  its  rhythm  or  its  tempo  with  the  meaning  ofeverjf 


liSLODT  VEBBUB  TUNS  159 

line  of  the  poetry.  An  actor,  ia  reciting  Shakespeare, 
does  not  talk  slowly  for  five  misutea,  and  then  quickly 
for  five  minutes,  as  the  singera  do  in  the  old-faahioned 
operas  which  are  divided  into  slow  and  fast  "numbers"; 
but  he  accelerates  or  retards  his  delivery  according  aa 
the  emotional  character  of  the  lines  calls  for  rapid  or 
slow  speech;  a  few  words  sufficing  sometimes  to  make 
him  modify  his  pace  or  tempo  for  a  moment.  This  is 
the  method  followed  in  Wagner's  music-dramas:  the 
melody  does  not _im pose  a  monotonous  dance-rhythm  ou 
tti^^OfHs,  but  accepts  its  form  from  the  poem  to  which 
it  is  wedded.  By  way  of  illustration,  open  the  vocal 
score  at  random.  On  page  188  (Billow's  original  quarto 
edition)  there  are  seventeen  bars;  and  now  note  the 
changes  in  tempo  and  expression:  ^'u  forte;  riten.;  f; 
oocel. ;  /;  j»;  af;  crescendo;  riteji. ;  f;  accel. ;  f;  p;  sf; 
crescendo;  very  agitated;  Jf;  dimin. ;  af;  'oery  gradually 
becoming  slower;  decreaeittg  in  loudness,  p.  All  these 
changes  are  on  one  page,  requiring  about  half  a  minute 
in  the  performance!  Can  any  one  fail  to  see  how  this 
kind  of  melodic  movement  vivifies  the  score  a  thousand 
times  more  than  the  liveliest  operatic  dance-tunes  of  the 
regular,  monotonous,  four-bar  pattern?  No  melody  in 
these  music-dramas?  Goto!  Wagner  did  not  claim  a 
straw  too  much  when  he  asserted  (VII.  172)  that  the 
music  not  only  does  not  lose  anything  by  this  close  union 
with  the  words  of  the  poem,  but  gains  a  freedom  and 
wealth  of  melodic  development  surpassing  even  the  end- 
less variety  and  capacity  of  the  symphony,  which  is  not 
emancipated  from  the  dance-form. 

No  melody  in  Tristan!   Why,  the  whole  work,  like  a 
Bach  score,  is  polyphonic^  that  is,  every  harmonic  part 


160  TRISTAN  AND  ISOLDE  IN  MUNICH 

is  a  melody,  a  coatinuous  melody.  Often  two  or  more 
melodies  are  heard  at  a  time,  in  illustration  of  the  com- 
plex dramatic  emotion.  It  is  a  "  forest  of  melodies  " 
which  the  myopic  cannot  see  on  account  of  the  "trees," 
The  principal  melody  is  now  in  the  Toioe,  anon  in  the 
orchestra.  It  is  an  emancipated  melody,  no  longer 
dependent  on  the  dancing-master's  geometrical  figures, 
but  moving  on  with  a  free  dramatic  rubato;  no  longer 
imprisoned  in  one  key,  but  going  about  from  key  to  key, 
unfettered,  on  the  bridge  of  modulation,  thus  illustrating 
the  relationship  of  alt  the  keys.  Wlmt  shall  we  say  of 
"  experts  "  who  could  find  no  melody  in  a  work  in  which 
not  only  the  vocal  parts  are  melodious,  but  every  orches- 
tral instrument  has  its  melody?  Of  experts  who  lavished 
their  praises  on  Italian  operas  in  which,  as  Wagner 
points  out,  only  a  tenth  or  twelfth  part  of  the  score  is 
devoted  to  tunes,  while  the  rest  is  an  absolute  desert  of 
nnmelodious  recitative?  The  Italians  themselves,  in- 
deed, did  not  care  much  even  for  these  tunes,  but  only 
for  the  singers  who  embellished  them  with  the  vulgar 
cosmetic  oijioriiure.  Wliat  the  French  composer  Gr^try 
wrote  from  Rome  in  1813  has  always  been  true  of  Ital- 
ians at  the  opera:  "If  occasionally  a  crowd  filled  the 
theatre,  it  was  to  hear  this  or  that  singer;  but  when  he 
was  no  longer  on  the  stage,  every  one  retired  to  his  box 
to  play  cards  or  eat  ice-cream,  while  the  parterre 
yawned." 

How  shallow,  vulgar,  trite,  and  commonplace  are 
those  popular  operatic  tunes  compared  with  the  poly- 
phony, the  true  harmonic  melody,  of  Bach  and  Wagner! 
One  thing,  it  is  true,  we  cannot  do  with  this  harmonic 
melody :  we  cannot  whistle  it,  cannot  take  it  along  with 


BOMAITTIC  LOVB  IS  WAQSSBrS  OPERAS    161 

OS.  It  is  like  the  coDtinuoos  melody  which  the  forest 
sings  to  us,  and  to  heai  which  a^ain  we  must  revisit  the 
trees  and  the  birds  and  the  babbling  brooks,  with  the 
clear  nocturnal  sky  above,  in  which  the  countless  stars 
are  revealed  ever  more  clearly  and  in  greater  numbers 
the  longer  we  gaze  at  them.  I  cannot  sufficiently  urge 
the  reader  to  look  up  the  wonderful  page  of  prose  (VTI. 
174)  in  which  W^ner  thus  describes  nature's  melody 
as  the  prototype  of  the  TrMan  melody.  Then  let  Mm 
reflect  on  the  fact  that  this  exquisitely  poetic  and  sug- 
gestive forest-simile  afforded  the  critics  do  end  of  fnii 
and  occasion  for  ridicule  I 


BOUAKnO  LOVK  IN  'WAONBB's  OPERAS 

Wagner  once  wrote  that  love  was  the  subject  of  all  his 
dramas,  from  the  DtOchman  to  Parsifal.  This  assertion 
may  be  questioned  in  the  case  of  Parsifal,  in  which  love 

—  at  least  romantic  love  —  occurs  only  as  an  episodic 
possibility;  but  in  the  other  operas,  if  we  read  their 
stories  aright,  the  centre  of  interest  is  in  the  lovers  — 
Senta  and  the  Dutchman,  Elisabeth  and  Tannh&uaer, 
Elsa  and  Lohengrin,  Tristan  and  Isolde,  Eva  and  Walter, 
SiegmundandSieglinde,  Siegfried  and  Briinnhildc;  while 
Sheingold,  though  it  has  not  a  pair  of  lovers,  has  for  its 
moral  the  power  of  love,  which  has  only  one  rival  —  the 
lust  for  gold.  What  strikes  one  first  in  Winer's  treat- 
ment of  the  romantic  passion  is  that  he  evidently  believes 
that  love,  to  be  true,  must  be  love  at  first  sight.  All 
his  heroes  and  heroines  fall  in  love  at  their  first  meeting 

—  or  before.  The  Dutchman  arranges  the  matter  with 
Daland  in  three  short  lines :  — 


Iti:;  IHISTAJN  AND  ISOLDE  IN  MUNICH 

thuchmaa.  —  "  Have  you  a  daughier  ?  " 
Dalawi.  —  "Indeed  1  have,  a.  faithful  child  1" 
Dutcaman.  —  "Letherbemy  wife  1" 

This  is  on  the  European  plan,  through  the  parent,  but 
Senta  soon  meets  hia  wishes  more  than  half  way.  Elisa- 
beth falls  in  love  with  Taimhiluser  at  a  vocal  tournament, 
and  subsaquently  ooufessea  her  love  d  la  Juliet,  only 
"more  so,"  for  she  has  not  the  cover  of  darkness  or  the 
excuse  of  fancying  herself  alone.  Elsa's  .story  is  the 
most  romantic  of  all:  she  falls  in  love  with  Lohengrin 
aa  seen  in  a  prophetic  dream,  while  he  declares  his  pas- 
sion at  their  first  meeting.  Walter  tries  to  woo  Eva  ou 
the  American  plan,  after  church  and  sans  chaperon; 
while  Siegfried  is  still  less  ceremonious,  for  he  finds 
the  unprotected  Brflnnhilde  fast  asleep  in  the  woods  and 
forthwith  wooa  and  wins  her  with'  a  kisa  —  the  longest 
kiss  on  record. 

Another  amorous  trait  common  to  these  dramas  is  the 
willingness  and  unselfish  eagerness  of  the  heroine  to 
sacrifice  herself  for  the  welfare  and  life  of  her  lover;  it 
is  the  old  feminine  ideal  of  unselfish  devotion  which  the 
modern  viragoes  of  the  so-called  "woman's  rights" 
movement  are  striving  so  hard  to  eradicate.  Senta 
throws  herself  into  the  sea  to  redeem  the  unhappy  mari- 
ner from  the  effects  of  his  terrible  curse.  Elisabeth 
defies  all  the  laws  of  propriety  by  interceding  for  the 
life  of  the  sinful  Taniihiiuser;  she  prays  for  his  redemp- 
tion and  dies  of  a  broken  heart.  Elsa  stands  as  a 
warning  example :  she  is  punished  for  not  having  uncon- 
ditional, unquestioning  faith  in  her  lover,  Isolde  expires 
on  Tristan's  body;  while  Briinnhilde  immolates  herself 
on  Siegfried's  funeral  pyre. 


ROMANTIC  LOVE  IN   WAONER'8  OPERAS    163 

The  essence  of  modem  romantic  love^  as  compared 
^ith  the  crude  amorous  passion  of  the  ancients^  lies  in 
the  recent  development  and  emphasizing  of  the  psychic, 
emotional,  unselfish  traits  of  that  feeling.  The  ancient 
philosophers  and  poets  treated  9iaii!^.lQye  for  woman  ^as 
mere  lust,  as  something  degrading  and  less  noble  thsui 
lEriendship  between  men.  Modem  philosophy  and  poetry, 
on  the  contrary,  make  man's  love  for  woman  superior 
to  friendship;  make  it,  indeed,  the  most  ennobling  and 
refining  influence  in  his  life.^  The  contrast  between 
ancient  passion  and  modem  romantic  love  is  embodied 
in  the  characters  of  Venus  and  Elisabeth.  Venus  shares 
only  the  joys  of  Tannhftuser,  while  Elisabeth  is  ready  to 
suffer  with  him.  Venus  is  carnal  and  selfish,  Elisabeth 
affectionate  and  self-sacrificing.  Venus  degrades,  Elisa- 
beth ennobles ;  the  depth  of  her  love  atones  for  the  shal- 
low, sinful  infatuation  of  Tannh&user.  The  abandoned 
Venus  threatens  revenge,  the  forsaken  Elisabeth  dies  of 
grief. 

In  Tristan  and  Isolde  we  find  all  these  traits  of  roman- 
tic love  united.  It  is,  more  than  any  other,  the  drama 
of  modem  love,  in  which  that  passion  is  proclaimed  as 
the  SuPBEBiB  Law  of  Natube.  Yet  there  are  few 
poems  about  which  so  much  rubbish  has  ever  been 
written.  The  lovers  have  been  denounced  as  criminals, 
guilty  of  adultery;  King  Marke  as  a  tiresome  preacher 
and  a  fool  for  not  killing  his  nephew  on  the  spot.  The 
magic  potion,  we  have  been  told,  makes  mere  puppets  of 
the  lovers;  and  H.  Dom  calls  the  play  a  chemical  trag- 

^  The  difference  between  ancient  and  modern  loye  is  diieaned  at 
great  length  in  my  treatise  on  Romantic  Love  and  Perianal  Reauty, 
Fifth  edition,  1892. 


164  TBISTAN  ANH  ISOLDS  IN  MUSICB 

edy  which  "may  be  of  interest  to  apothecaries,  but  to 
others  ...  it  is  extremely  distasteful."  Dr.  Hanslick 
finds  the  "diseased  kernel  "  of  the  tragedy  in  this,  that 
the  lovers  are  not  like  Hero  and  Leander  and  Romeo  and 
Juliet,  who  fall  passionately  in  love  with  each  other  at 
first  sight,  and  need  no  potion  to  inspire  passion.  Let 
Ufl  examine  this  last  charge  first;  it  throws  a  glaring 
light  on  the  competence  of  these  musical  critica  to  judge 
Wagner  as  a  poet. 

The  very  esBenije  — moral  and  dramatic  —  of  Wafer's 
tragedy  lies  in  the  fact  that  Tristan  and  Isolde  loved 
each  other  before  they  drank  the  potion.  This  point  is 
brought  out  repeatedly  in  the  poem,  so  clearly  that  he 
must  be  a  very  hasty  or  obtuse  reader  who  does  not  see 
it.  Isolde's  every  action  would  betray  her  previous  love 
even  if  we  were  not  told  in  vivid  lines  how  she  had 
dropped  the  avenging  sword  when  his  eyes  met  hers. 
Of  course  she  could  not  openly  confess  this  love,  because 
she  was  a  woman,  and  because  Tristan  had  slain  her 
cousin  and  bridegroom.  As  for  Tristan,  he  not  only 
confesses  his  previous  love,  but  tells  us  explicitly  (in 
the  great  duo)  why,  in  spite  of  it,  he  had  come  to  woo 
her  not  for  himself,  but  for  the  King.  It  was  done  in  a 
fit  of  defiance  of  his  enemies;  he  has  gone  to  find  a  bride 
for  his  uncle  in  order  to  belie  their  insinuations  that  he 
was  plotting  to  be  the  King's  heir.  Such  was  the  situa- 
tion on  the  ship  before  the  potion  was  drunk.  They 
both  loved  —  hopelessly,  for  she  was  the  King's  bride. 
They  both  drank  the  potion  heroically  in  the  belief  that 
it  would  end  their  life  and  suffering:  when  fate  inter- 
vened in  the  substitution  of  the  love-potion  for  the 
poison,  and  willed  that  they  should  love  and  live;  and 
in  face  of  fate  man  is  powerless. 


BOMANTIC  LOVE  IN  WAGNER'S  OPERAS    165 

But  why,  if  Tristan  and  Isolde  loved  before  they  drank 
from  the  cup,  introduce  that  feature  at  all?  For  poetic, 
psychologic,  and  dramatic  reasons.  In  the  first  place, 
it  is  a  part  of  the  old  legend,  an  interesting  bit  of  mediae- 
val local  color.  It  recalls  the  time  when  all  diseases  of 
the  body,  all  strong  affections  of  the  mind,  were  attrib- 
uted to  potions  and  other  forms  of  magic  influence.  For 
those  who  have  not  siifficient  poetic  sensibility  and  im- 
agination to  sympathize  with  such  a  motive,  Tristan 
was  not  written:  they  will  find  a  more  congenial  sphere 
of  enjoyment  in  mathematics  or  osteology  than  in  poetry 
and  music. 

In  the  second  place,  a  poet  with  Wagner's  keen  dra- 
matic instincts  could  not  have  possibly  failed  to  utilize 
the  love-potion,  on  account  of  its  theatric  value:  it 
makes  the  underlying  motive  of  the  drama,  the  magic, 
irresistible  power  of  Lovey  visible  to  the  spectators.  The 
drinking  of  the  potion,  with  the  wonderful  music  accom- 
panying it,  is  one  of  the  most  thrilling  scenes  in  all 
dramatic  literature,  and  it  would  have  been  the  climax 
of  imbecility  to  omit  this  grand  dramatic  opportunity 
provided  by  the  legend.  Yet  Dr.  Hanslick  says  the  love- 
potion  is  "undramatic"!  Funny,  isn't  it?  Why  did 
Shakespeare  become  a  dramatist  instead  of  a  mere  book- 
writer?  Was  it  not  because  he,  the  greatest  poet  that 
ever  lived,  felt  that  in  order  to  make  the  deepest  possi- 
ble impression  on  men  and  women  he  must  make  his 
poetic  inspirations  visible  on  the  stage  —  that  he  must 
reveal  the  deepest  feelings  of  the  soul  to  the  eyes  in 
realistic  action?  That  is  the  advantage  the  living  drama 
has  over  the  printed  page;  and  when  the  poem  is  allied 
with  music,  we  have  a  further  reason  for  retaining  such 


166  TRISTAH  AND  ISOLDE  IS  MUSICB 

a  motive  as  the  lore-potion,  in  the  remarkable  affinity 
that  exists  between  music  and  the  supernatural  which 
all  the  great  composers  have  felt  instinctively.^ 

There  is  still  another  point  from  which  we  may  view 
and  welcome  the  love-potion,  and  a  most  important  one : 
it  purifies  the  moral  atmosphere  of  the  drama.  With- 
out the  irresistible  compulsion  of  the  drink,  Tristan's 
actions  would  be  a  breach  of  faith,  and  his  love  on  the 
level  of  an  ordinary  French  drama  of  conjugal  infidelity; 
with  the  magic  potion  he  becomes  a  victim  of  inexorable 
fate  and  excites  our  pity  so  that  we  sympathize  with  him 
even  though  his  conduct  may  seem  reprehensible.  And 
this  conduct  is  not  so  reprehensible  as  it  seems  at  first 
sight;  indeed,  in  no  instance  have  the  hostile  commen- 
tators HO  glaringly  exposed  their  obtuseness  as  in  their 
failure  to  see  that  Wagner  has  entirely  omitted  the  adul- 
teroTis  element  of  the  legend.  His  lovers  are  free  from 
such  guilt.  Their  sense  of  lionor  and  pride  was  so  great 
that  they  had  both  resolved  to  die  with  the  secret  of 
their  love  locked  in  their  hearts,  when  the  elixir  com- 
pelled them  to  confess  it.  The  King  does  indeed  come  to 
meet  the  maid  chosen  for  him,  but  nothing  is  said  about 
marriage.  After  their  arrival  in  Cornwall  the  lovers 
meet  only  twice;  the  first  time  in  the  garden,  where 
they  discourse  of  night  and  death,  and  Tristan  is  fatally 
wounded;  the  second  time  in  Bretagne,  when  Isolde 
arrives  just  in  time  to  catch  him  dying  in  her  arms.  He 
had  not  made  love  to  the  King's  wife,  only  to  his  bride, 
his  betrothed.  This  is  proved  by  King  Marke's  words, 
"Der  mein  Wille  nie  zu  nahen  wagte,"  etc.,  in  his  first 
great  monologue,  and  still  more  unmistakably  by  his 
'  See  the  later  chapter  on  Myth  orui  Muiic. 


BOMANTIC  LOVE  IN  WAGNER'S  OPERAS    167 

words  a4;  the  close  of  the  tragedy,  when  he  tells  Isolde 
that  he  has  come  not  to  punish,  but  to  give  her  in  mar- 
riage to  Tristan.  How  could  he  have  done  this  if  she 
had  been  his  wife?  Bear  these  things  in  mind,  and  you 
will  see  that  not  only  is  Wagner's  play  free  from  immo- 
rality, but  that  there  is  nothing  "unmanly"  in  the 
King's  action  in  chiding  Tristan,  instead  of  chopping  off 
his  head.  He  was  an  old  man,  he  loved  Tristan  like  an 
own  child,  and  Isolde  had  been  none  of  his  own  seeking. 
But  is  it  not  immoral  to  make  love  to  a  man's  be- 
trothed? Not  necessarily.  Here  we  need  not  fall  back 
on  the  irresistible  might  of  the  love-potion.  There 
was  something  more  irresistible  than  even  a  magic  drink 
which  made  Tristan  claim  Isolde  —  a  law  of  nature  — 
the  Law  of  Love.  He  loved  her,  and  she  loved  him; 
therefore  it  was  not  only  their  right  but  their  duty  to 
possess  each  other.  An  accident  had  condemned  Isolde 
to  marry  a  decrepit  old  man  who  loved  lier  not  and 
whom  she  loved  not.  Such  a  marriage  would  have  been 
a  crime,  not  only  against  the  lovers,  but  against  nature ; 
for,  as  Schopenhauer  has  so  forcibly  pointed  out,  in  the 
choosing  of  mates  the  welfare  of  the  neoct  generation  is  at 
stake.  Love  chooses  youth,  health,  beauty;  health  and 
beauty  are  hereditary:  hence  love-matches  provide  for 
a  healthy,  beautiful  progeny,  while  marriages  for  money 
and  rank,  where  there  is  no  love,  and  one  of  the  two 
generally  old,  ugly,  or  decrepit,  have  the  opposite  result. 
This  great  Law  of  Love,  which  we  all  feel  but  which 
Schopenhauer  was  the  first  to  formulate,  is  the  moral 
key  to  Wagner's  tragedy,  and  explains  why  every  specta- 
tor sympathizes  with  the  interrupted  lovers  and  not  with 
the  King.    It  is  here  that  the  influence  of  Schopenhauer 


i 


168  TBIBTAN  AND  ISOLDS  IN  MUNICH 

on  Wagner  may  perhaps  be  traced,  and  not,  as  many  of 
the  commentators  have  fancied,  in  the  longing  of  the 
lovers  for  a  blending  of  their  aoula  in  death,  which  is  a 
common  pantheistic  notion  thouaands  of  years  older  than 
Schopenhauer. 

To  sum  up:  the  key-note  of  Wagner's  T^-istan  and 
Isolde  is  Schopenhauer's  sublime  thought  that  Love  is 
the  highest  of  all  moral  and  hygienic  laws,  because  it 
provides  for  the  welfare  of  the  next  generation,  which  is 
placed  in  our  hands  and  to  which  everything  must  be 
sacrificed.  The  ma^ic  potion  \a  simply  the  visible  dra- 
matic symbol  of  Love's  irresistible  power,  and  as  anch  it 
pervades,  both  poetically  and  musically,  the  whole  drama. 
The  time  will  come  when  Schopenhauer's  great  thought 
(which  made  so  deep  an  impression  on  Darwin  too) 
will  be  fully  appreciated,  and  when  loveless  marriages 
for  rank  and  monej  will  be  considered  as  immoral  as 
adultery.  It  is  interesting  to  find  that  this  same  thought 
was  the  topic  which  engaged  Wagner  in  the  last  hours 
of  his  life.  His  last  essay,  dated  two  days  before  hia 
death  (and  never  finished),  traces  the  degeneracy  of  the 
human  race,  and  its  average  inferiority  in  health  and 
beauty  to  animals,  to  the  violation  of  the  Law  of  Love  by 
marriages  for  rank  and  money  —  Konventiona-HeiraZhen.^ 

A  word  more  about  the  poetic  aspect  of  the  love-duo. 
Where  the  music  is  so  ravisliingly  beautiful,  one  might 
well  pardon  the  poet  for  nodding;  and  this  excuse  ap- 
pears to  be  generally  accepted  even  by  Wagner's  admir- 
ers, who    seem    inclined    to    admit   that    metaphysical 

1  EntJBurfe,  Frai/m^nte,  elc.,  125-129.  See  also  the  aoalysU  of  the 
Trulnn  Prelude,  in  this  same  posthummis  voliinie  (101-103),  where  the 
Bubjeciof  the  trageity  is  referred  to  as  "the  revenge  ol  tbe  Jealous 
goddess  of  love  for  her  sappre«sed  righto." 


BOMANTIC  LOVE  IN  WAGNEB'8  OPERAS    169 

discussions  on  love  and  death  are  not  exactly  the  topics 
dear  to  lovers.  Not  to  ordinary  lovers,  quite  true.  But 
Tristan  and  Isolde  are  not  ordinary  lovers.  They  are 
forced  to  love,  but  feel  that  they  cannot  enjoy  that  love 
unless  their  hopes  and  beliefs  regarding  a  union  of  souls 
in  death  are  realized;  hence,  to  them,  love  and  death  are 
the  most  natural  topics  in  the  world.  Moreover,  that  is 
by  no  means  all  they  talk  about.  Bead  over  the  love- 
scene  again,  and  you  will  find  that  much  of  it  is  taken 
up  by  tiie  alternate  confessions  of  the  two  as  to  their 
love  at  first  meeting  and  the  reasons  why  they  con- 
cealed that  love :  and  this  is  precisely  what  lovers  just 
engaged  are  most  likely  to  do.  I  would  not  say,  how- 
ever, that  poetically  this  duo  is  the  finest  part  of  the 
drama.  That  distinction  belongs  to  Isolde's  swan-song 
''Mild  und  Leise,"  which  is  perhaps  the  most  wonderful 
page  in  all  the  dramatic  literature  of  Germany.  In 
it  the  poetry  of  pantheism  becomes  a  religious  ecstasy. 
The  words  themselves  are  hete  impalpable  fragrance 
and  music.  He  who  can  even  read  this  apotheosis  with- 
out a  thrill  of  emotion  and  moistened  eyes  is  to  be  pro- 
foundly pitied,  for  he  has  not  the  love  of  divine  art  in 
his  soul.     But  oh,  the  impossibility  of  translation! 

It  would  take  a  separate  volume  to  analyze  the  musi- 
cal beauties  of  the  Tristan  score.  I  will  therefore  stop 
to  call  attention  to  only  one  maligned  episode.  The 
music  of  King  Marke's  great  monologue  in  the  second 
act  has  often  been  called  tiresome,  while  it  is  one  of  the 
profoundest  and  most  deeply  emotional  scenes.  Unfor- 
tunately, it  comes  immediately  after  the  grandest  climax 
ever  built  by  musician,  —  and  after  that  climax  of  emo- 
tional music  almost  anything  else  ever  written  would 


170  TRISTAN  ASD  ISOLDS  IS  MUNICH 

seem  an   aDti-climaz.     In  that  love-duo   Wagner  has 

achieved  for  music  what  Shakespeare  did  for  the  expres- 
sion of  love  in  poetry;  and  as  Shakespeaie's  treatment 
of  romantic  love  haa  been  the  model  for  poets  ever  since, 
80  this  duo  will  remain  for  centuries  the  fount  of  inspi- 
ration for  all  writers  of  amorous  music. 

GBMB  OF  TRISTAN  CBmCISM 
Audiatur  et  altera  pars !  A  conscientious  historian  of 
Wagner's  life  in  peace  and  war  must  not  neglect  to  cast 
an  occasional  glance  into  the  enemy's  camp,  Let  us 
begin  with  H.  Dorn,  a  composer  himself,  who  wrote 
eight  operas,  including  one  on  a  Nibelung  plot.  Of  all 
these  operas  not  a  note  survives;  yet  it  would  be  rash  to 
say  that  tie  did  not  immortalize  himself,  for  he  will 
surely  be  known  for  centuries  aB  the  author  of  the  fol- 
lowing criticisms  on  Tiistan  and  Isolde:  — 

"  It  is  the  most  unfortunate  clioice  of  &  text-book  ever  m»de  by 
a  really  prominent  composer";  "devoid  of  all  moral  ba^i." 
"  Harmon;  is  used  in  a  nay  which  scofis  at  iu  very  name."  "Of 
melody  there  is  practically  hod e."  "Tristan  and  Iiolde,  considered 
■B  a  work  of  art,  is  and  remaine  an  absolute  failure." 

Of  Dr.  Hanslick's  opinions  some  have  already  been 
quoted.     Here  are  a  few  more :  — 

The  first  act  is  "intolerably  tedious."  The  loveJao  reveals  "a 
hopeless  poetic  Impotence."  "A  more  anti-vocal,  unsingable  style 
than  that  ot  Trislan  could  hardly  be  found  anywhere."  We  muAt 
"  protest  most  emphatically  against  the  idea  of  accepting  this  assas- 
rination  of  sense  and  language,  this  stuttering  and  stammering, 
these  bombastic,  artificial  monologues  and  dialogues,  void  ot  all 
natural  senlimeiit,  as  a  poetic  work  of  art."  "The  simplest  song 
of  Mendelssohn  appeals  more  to  heart  and  soul  than  t«n  Wagner 
operas  &  la  Tristan  and  Isolde." 


GEMS  OF  TBI8TAN  CBITICI8M  171 

« 

Dr.  Hansliok's  '' method  "  comes  into  play  very  subtly 
when  he  endeavors  to  crush  his  opponents  by  citing  the 
'^confession"  of  a  "sincere  admirer"  of  Tristauy  Louis 
Ehlerty  that  "the  red-pencil  is  useless  here  where  only 
a  sword  can  help."  Here  are  a  few  more  of  Ehlert's 
opinions:  — 

<•  Considered  purely  as  a  poem,  few  wUl  be  able  to  read  Tristan 
withoat  comic  emotions/^  As  a  poet,  Wagner  is  ^^  a  dilettante  **; 
Markers  monologue  produces  **a  perfectly  irresistible  desire  to 
lao^**  and  is  **  musicaUy  tedious.**  Wagner  has  written  no  operas 
equal  to  Don  Juan  or  Figaro,  The  passion  in  Tristan  is  not  beau- 
tiful, but  a  *^ Medusalike  distortion.'*  And,  to  sum  up,  **a8  a 
rule  Wagner* 8  opponents  are  right  in  aU  their  censures!*^ 

A  nice  sort  of  a  "sincere  admirer,"  oh  Hanslick! 
Another  great  Austrian  critic,  Ludwig  Speidel,  calls  the 
introduction  and  finale  "lyric  pap,"  which,  I  suppose, 
must  be  Viennese  wit.  According  to  Eduard  Schelle, 
the  TSista/a  poem  is  "  in  every  respect  an  absurdity,  and 
the  music,  with  some  exceptions,  the  artificial  brew  of  a 
decayed  imagination."  A  few  other  pet  names  bestowed 
on  tills  music-drama  by  German  critics  are  "silly," 
"higher  cat-music,"  "a  monstrosity,"  "sonorous  mo- 
notony," "grinning  and  bawling,"  "a  tone-chaos  of 
heart-rending  chords." 

Not  all  the  critics,  of  course,  were  so  boorish:  some, 
more  in  sorrow  than  in  anger,  advised  Wagner  to  turn 
back  from  his  path  into  the  musical  wilderness  and 
travel  in  the  operatic  highroad  of  Lohengrin.  Instead 
of  quoting  their  lucubrations,  it  will  conduce  more  to 
the  reader's  amusement,  if  I  cite  from  Thayer's  life  of 
Beethoven  the  remarks  of  one  of  the  kind-hearted  critics 
of  that  day  advising  that  composer  to  use  his  "acknowl* 


172  TRISTAN  AND  ISOLDE  IN  XVNICff 

edged  great  talent"  in  returning  from  the  erroneous 
style  of  hia  third  (Eroica.)  symphony  and  going  back 
to  the  lucid  simplicity  of  the  first:  — 

"  I  am  certainlfoneof  Herr  Beethoven's  mofit  siDcere  admirers, 
but  iu  tbia  nark  even  1  must  confess  that  there  ie  too  much  that  is 
shrill  and  bizarrt^  whereby  the  comprehension  is  greatly  impeded 
and  the  unity  slmost  lost.  [So  it  seems  Beethoven,  too,  had 
■■no  form."]  The  symphony  would  gain  immeasutablj  if  Bee- 
thoven coald  mako  op  his  mind  to  shorten  It  [how  abont  using 
"  a  sword  "  V]  and  glre  the  whole  more  cieamesa  and  oni^." 

Another    critio,    leas    amiable    but   more    "witty," 

"Some,  Beethoven's  special  friends,  assert  that  this  very  sym- 
phony Is  a  masterwork,  tliat  this  was  the  true  style  for  higher 
music,  and  thai  if  it  does  not  please  to-day,  this  is  only  because  tha 
public  is  not  siifficiently  cultivated  to  appreciate  all  these  beauties ; 
but  that  ajler  afein  thougand  years  it  irotitd  not  fail  of  its  effect." 

Note  the  fine  sarcasm  in  that  last  line  —  the  sneer  at 
Beethoven's  "music  of  the  future."  What  a  grand 
privilege  it  is  to  be  a  musical  critic!  No  other  profes- 
sion, not  even  that  of  a  circus  clown,  affords  such 
glorious  opportunities  for  making  a  fool  of  one's  self. 

On  Dec.  2,  1886,  the  New  York  Times  displayed  the 
following  headlines  over  an  account  of  the  first  perform- 
ance in  America  of  Tristan  and  Isolde:  "A  Work  not 

WANTED  OUTSIDE  OP  GERMANY  AND  NOT  TOO  OFTKN 
THERE.       BeiiINNINO    OF    THE    EnD    OF    THE   CbAZE     FOB 

Symphonic  Music  in  the  Opera."  On  Jan.  23,  1887, 
the  rimes  had  to  "eat  crow,"  as  the  politicians  say,  by 
informing  its  readers,  after  the  sixth  performance  of  the 
same  work:  "The  receipts  were  the  largest  ever  taken 
in  since  German  opera  was  first  given  in  this  city." 


QSM8  OF  TRISTAN  CBITICI8M 


178 


Some  critics  baye  had  the  good  sense  to  confess  their 
former  errors  frankly.  The  English  historian,  W.  S. 
Kockstro,  is  a  notable  instance.  Before  his  conversion 
he  wrote  that  Senta's  Ballad  would  be  remembered  ages 
after  Wagner's  operas  had  ceased  to  be  performed  in 
their  entirety,  and  other  things  to  that  effect.  After 
his  conversion  Mr.  Kockstro  wrote  in  his  History  of  Music 
that  '^  two  thousand  years  ago  the  Antigone  of  Sophocles 
affected  the  Greeks  as  Tristan  and  Isolde  affects  us 
now."  The  opening  bars  are  "ravishingly  beautiful,'' 
and  the  whole  work  ''may  be  fitly  described  as  one  long 
unbroken  stream  of  melody,  from  beginning  to  end  — 
melody  infinitely  more  impassioned,  and  not  a  whit  less 
tuneful,  even  at  the  moment  of  Isolde's  death,  than  the 
most  captivating  strains  in  the  poisoning  scene  in  Lucre' 
zia  Borgia.^^  But  even  Mr.  Bockstro  was  not  quite  cour- 
ageous and  manly  enough  to  confess  that  the  fault  was 
his  own.  He  makes  the  ''unintelligent  eulogies"  of 
Wagner's  friends,  "repeated  ad  nauseaniy"  responsible 
for  all  the  damage.  Of  course  —  no  doubt  —  if  the  few 
critics  who  did  praise  Wagner  —  Liszt,  Cornelius,  Franz, 
Pohl,  Nohl,  Raff,  BiUow,  Kohler  — had  joined  in  the 
general  chorus  of  abuse  and  misrepresentation,  Mr. 
Bockstro  would  have  found  out  much  sooner  that  Tristan 
is  brimful  of  melody  I  Dreadful  fellows,  those  Wagner- 
ites  arel 


I 


POLITICAL  AND  PERSONAL 

BAKISHED  AGAIN 

In  Munich  itself,  the  reception  of  Trialan  was,  as  wa 

have  seen,  enthusiastic;  but  this  was  largely  due  to  the 
influence  of  royal  favor  and  the  presence  among  the  spec- 
tators of  many  Wagneritea  from  outside.  The  Munich- 
ers  themselves  had  not  the  remotest  idea  that  they  were 
looking  on  a  musical  genius  greater  than  any  that  Ger- 
many had  ever  seen,  and  with  the  grandest  art-work 
produced  up  to  that  date.  Of  the  local  papers  only 
one  assumed  an  attitude  that  was  at  least  neutral,  if 
not  friendly.  How  immeasurably  Tristan  was  above 
the  head  of  the  local  editors  may  be  inferred  from  the 
fact  that  when  Ludwig  Nohl  in  1864  sent  a  favorable 
article  on  the  Flying  Dutchman  to  the  leading  newspaper, 
the  editor  decliued  it  on  the  ground  that  while  he  found 
his  writings  on  Beethoven  and  Mozart  excellent,  he 
could  not  understand  liis  admiration  for  Wagner,  who 
"placed  Mozart  so  low"  (!)  and  whose  poems  were  so 
"■illy"!' 

In  the  hope  that  Tristan  would  soon  find  its  way  from 

Munich  to  other  opera-houses,  Wagner  was  once  more 

doomed  to  disappointment.     Even  in  Munich  it  was  not 

sung  again  till  four  years  later.     Weimar  was  the  first 

1  Nohl,  Seuti  Skizzenbuch,  p.  13B. 

171 


BANISHED  AGAIN  176 

city  to  repeat  the  experiment  (1874)|  the  departure  of 
Dingelstedt  having  left  the  field  free  again  for  the  former 
modem  tendencies.  Berlin  came  next;  in  1876,  with  a 
good  performance,  the  result  of  which,  howeyer,  as 
Ehlert  chronicles,  was  '^  an  honorable  fiasco  "  —  for  the 
audience !  But  the  greatest  blow  to  Wagner's  hopes  was 
the  death  of  his  ideal  tenor,  Schnorr,  only  a  week  after 
he  had  returned  to  Dresden  from  Munich.  His  adipose 
physique  had  made  him  liable  to  illness;  he  had  com- 
plained to  the  Munich  stage-authorities  of  the  intolera- 
ble draught  to  which  he  was  exposed  while  lying  on  his 
couch  throughout  the  third  act  of  TriBtan;  no  attention 
was  paid  to  these  complaints,  and  the  result  was  an 
attack  of  inflammatory  rheumatism  to  which  he  suc- 
cumbed.* Unscrupulous  enemies  of  course  asserted  that 
Wagner's  music  had  killed  him.  Schnorr's  last  moments 
were  filled  with  apprehensions  that  his  friend  might  be 
held  responsible  for  his  fate;  his  last  regrets  were  that 
now  he  could  not  live  to  create  the  rOle  of  Siegfried. 
On  the  news  of  his  death,  Wagner  hastened  to  Dresden 
with  Btilow  to  attend  his  funeral;  they  arrived  a  few 
hours  too  late.  It  was  a  bright  day  in  July;  the  coach- 
man informed  them  that  20,000  singers  were  coming  to 
Dresden  for  a  festival.  "Alas,"  said  Wagner  to  him- 
self, *Hhe  singer  is  no  more."  On  him  he  had  placed 
so  many  hopes  for  Tristan  and  the  Nibelung's  Sing  ! 

Other  disappointments  followed.  Even  a  king  had 
not  the  power  to  arrest  the  fury  of  the  anti- Wagnerian 
Fates.  Everything  was  anti-Wagnerian  —  politics,  re- 
ligion, society,  musicians;  all  these  forces  combined  in 
a  frantic  effort  to  drive  him  out  of  the  city.  His  dream 
of  happiness  was  over. 


"*•! 


176         fozjmS3hmrii^imt0J^^ 


'  A*Ji. 


"There  was  a  short  tinu^**  h0  wrote  16  Inn  Willi  in  SqplQBl* 
ber,  "when  I  really  heliered  I  was  dreaming^  so  liapff  wis  agr 
mood.  This  was  the  time  of  thi9  2VMcm  xehaaasls.  HnlSbibmA 
tbne  in  my  life  I  was  hero  embedded  with  my  ivliole  matmw  azt, 
as  on  a  bank  of  loTe.  .  .  .  Tlieflzstpertomaiieewillioiitapiiiliie 
andience  only  among  omnMlves,  gifeii  out  as  a  diesB-MkaiMd»  was 
like  the  realization  of  tho  impoasibla.** 

Then  came  the  death  of  Sohnoir. 

"Since  that  time  I  am  in  a  sad  mood.  Iwaa  lonely  iMMif  Hm 
high  Alps,  now  I  am  lonely  here.  I  eannot  qwak  to  aagr  onob  and 
am  always  supposed  to  be  oat  of  town.  Ibe  wondxoos  love  o|  Hm 
King  keeps  me  alive ;  he  takes  oaze  of  me,  as  no  hnman  Wnf  eiver 
took  care  of  another.  I  Uve  within  him,  and  will  live  to  emil  a|9^ 
works  for  him.  For  myself  I  really  live  no  longer.  •  .  •  WiflUm 
of  workconsomesalimythoo^ts.  Ibe  J^^fMim^miaxenowtoie 
completed."  • 

One  might  have  thought  that  an  artist  who  thus  lived 
in  retirement,  deyoted  solely  to  the  creation  of  music- 
dramas,  might  be  left  alone  by  political  and  religious 
schemers.  But  Wagner  was  '^  the  King's  favorite '';  that 
was  enough  to  create  enemies  by  wholesale.  How  they 
chuckled  when,  previous  to  the  Tristan  performance,  the 
King  did  not  attend  some  Wagner  evenings  given  at  the 
Opera.  The  rumor  immediately  spread  that  the  ^'&vor- 
ite'^  had  fallen.  But  the  simple  truth  was  that  the 
King  had  begun  his  habit  of  enjoying  Wagner's  operas 
as  sole  spectator.  Disappointed  in  this  insinuation,  the 
enemies  put  their  heads  together  and  hatched  out  canard 
after  canard.  Nothing  was  too  mean  and  contemptible 
for  their  Philistine  minds  to  stoop  to.  They  declared 
^that  while  he  was  living  in  luxury  he  allowed  his  wife 
in  Dresden  to  starve.    Her  denial  of  this  slander  was 


BANISBED  AOAIN  177 

briefly  referred  to  in  a  previous  page.  Here  is  the  noble 
and  womanly  letter  she  wrote,  a  few  weeks  before  her 
death:  — 

^*The  malicious  romon  concerning  my  husband,  which  haTS 
been  for  some  time  published  by  Vienna  and  Munich  newspapen, 
oblige  me  to  declare  that  I  have  received  from  him  upto  thia  day 
an  income  amply  sufficient  for  my  maintenance.  I  take  this  oppor- 
tunity with  the  more  pleasure  as  it  enables  me  to  put  an  end  to 
at  least  one  of  the  numerous  calumnies  launched  against  my 
husband.*' 

Equally  absurd  and  groundless  were  the  divers  politi- 
cal rumors  disseminated  by  the  enemy.  We  have  seen 
that,  according  to  his  own  statement,  the  King  was  in  the 
habit  of  looking  at  the  ceiling  and  whistling,  if  he  ever 
broached  a  political  subject.  He  was  accused  of  being 
the  head  of  a  "  demagogic  clique ''  which  tried  to  incline 
the  King  to  favor  "Prussian  designs  *';  whereas,  in  real- 
ity, his  feelings  towards  Bismarck  and  Prussia  were 
anything  but  friendly.  The  fact  that  his  former  revolu- 
tionary partner,  August  Roeckel,  recently  released  after 
thirteen  years'  imprisonment,  visited  him  at  this  time, 
gave  occasion  to  bring  to  the  fore  the  former  "  rebellious  " 
and  "unloyal"  conduct  of  Wagner  at  Dresden;  but,  as 
Von  Btilow  pointed  out,^  Koeckel  had  come  to  Munich 
merely  to  hear  Tristan;  and  as  regards  the  progressist 
party,  BCilow  gives  his  assurance  that  Wagner  kept  apart 
from  it  so  completely  that  he  did  not  even  know  the 
leaders  personally  and  had  only  once  called  on  the  editor 
of  the  Neueste  Ndchrichten  in  order  to  thank  him  for  hav- 
ing preserved  a  purely  "literary"  attitude  to¥rard  the 

2  Letter  to  the  Berlin  Kreuzzettung,  printed  Dae  21,  ISSB. 


178  POLITICAL  AMD  FMBSaWAL 

scandals  in  circulation*  Wagner  had  roflbred  too  nuioh 
from  political  matters  to  care  to  be  personally  conoemed 
in  them  again.  Bdlow  relates  that  even  at  Ztlrioh  he 
had  kept  aloof  from  other.  Qerman  fngitiTes,  many  of 
whom  maligned  him  in  consequence.  Bfllow  also  gives 
his  solemn  assurance  that  in  the  royal  intervievs  with 
the  architect  Semper  at  which  he  was  present^  no  allu- 
sion whatever  was  made  to  politics;  and  he  points  out 
finally,  regarding  the  liberal  partji  that  it  was  at  any 
rate  devoted  to  the  royal  house  —  a  virtoe  whieh  tliie 
native-clerical  party  could  not  dainu 

It  was  from  this  clerical.  Ultramontane,  or  old-Oafholic 
party  that  the  principal  opposition  came.  Grounds  for 
attack  were  easily  manufactured;  for,  had  not  Wagner 
shown  in  his  writings  sympathy,  at  first  with  the  left 
wing  of  Hegelianism,  and,  more  recently,  with  Schopen- 
hauer, the  scoffer  at  church  and  religion?  The  following 
citation  from  an  editorial  article  in  the  VosHsche  ZeUung 
of  Berlin  (Dec.  17, 1865)  shows  what  tactics  were  adopted 
by  the  Ultramontane  writers :  — 

"  The  reTelations  regarding  the  abyss  into  which  honest  Bavaria, 
together  with  its  old  dynasty,  was  to  be  precipitated  by  Richard 
Wagner  are  becoming  more  and  more  gmesome  "  (I)  **  *  Xot  music 
alone,*  says  an  Ultramontane  pai>er,  *  ia  in  question,  but  obviously 
an  entire  system  for  which  he  wished  to  make  a  oonyert  on  the 
throne.  His  intention  is  to  place  art,  and  esjwcially  the  theatre, 
in  a  relation  to  the  people  which  has  heretofore  been  held  by 
religion.* " 

More  effective  even  than  these  political  and  religious 
canards  were  the  rumors  concerning  the  way  in  which 
Wagner  was  depleting  the  royal  treasury.  Fabulous 
sums  were  mentioned  as  having  been  paid  to  him,  and 


BANISHED  AGAIN  179 


the  OQmic  papers  represented  him  as  knocking  at  the 
door  of  the  mint  whenever  his  pocket  was  empty.  Doc- 
umentary evidence  that  he  coold  not  get  money  when- 
ever he  wanted  it  may  be  found  in  some  letters  addressed 
by  him  to  the  vocEd  teacher,  Friedrich  Schmitt,  in 
Vienna.*  In  one,  dated  March  12,  1865,  he  begs  his 
friend  to  raise  a  sum  of  a  thousand  florins  for  him,  for 
a  year,  at  from  ten  to  twenty  per  cent  interest.  On 
Oct.  11,  1865,  reference  is  again  made  to  the  necessity 
of  getting  this  check.  Now  it  is  not  likely  that  he 
would  have  borrowed  money  at  such,  a  rate  of  interest  if 
he  could  have  had  it  from  the  King  for  the  asking.  On 
Oct.  22,  1866,  he  writes  again  to  Schmitt:  — 

««Tluit  yoUf  too,  shoold  to  frivolooily — pftidon  me — have  be- 
lieved the  cnudest  gUninnifti  regardiiig  the  King's  prodigility,  u  to 
aerionaly  beliere  in  the  70,000  florins  which  he  was  said  to  have 
given  me  on  my  birthday,  and  that  yon — in  consequence  of  this 
beUef — begged  me  to  interfere  in  your  diificolties,  has  really  dumb- 
foonded  me.  .  .  .  Against  such  mini^rehensions  no  weapon 
is  now  left  me  except  a  leaort  to  aUenoe.  My  only  desire  is  for 
the  continued  prosperity  and  power  of  my  beloved  King,  who,  it 
seems,  is  the  only  person  that  reaUy  understands  me/' 

In  the  same  letter  he  says :  — 

*^  My  influence  on  the  King  can  therefore  relate  only  in  a  general 
way  to  the  course  which  I  must  wish  that  a  monarch,  supported  by 
the  love  of  his  subjects  in  troublous  times,  should  take  in  the  effort 
to  free  himself  so  far  as  to  be  able  to  appear  openly  and  eneiget- 
ically  as  a  patron  of  the  arts.'* 

It  was  precisely  here  that  the  chief  trouble  arose.  The 
architect  Semper  had  been  asked,  early  in  1865,  to  pre- 

1  Extracts  from  these  are  printed  in  Oesterlein's  Wagner  Kataloff^ 
m.  16-19. 


/ 


180  POLrrWAZ  ASJt  PMBBOMAL 

pare  a  model  of  a  ner  Waguei  theaitre  to  be  built  in 
Munich.  Semper  complied  with  the  request^  and  his 
model  was  immensely  admired  at  Zflrioh,  where  it  was 
first  placed  on  view.  The  crisis  appears  to  have  been 
precipitated  by  the  report  Qtalb  thia  theatre  was  actnally 
to  be  built,  and  that  it  was  to  cost  seven  miUion  marks 
(91,760,000).  That  suoh  a  mm  should  be  drawn  from 
the  royal  treasniy  and  deducted  from  the  petqoiaitea  of 
beaorocratio  circles  was  not  to  be  tolerated.  In  later 
years  King  Ludwig  expended  much  larger  sums  on  hia 
luxurious  castles,  f&r  away  from  the  oi^,  where  no  one 
was  benefited  by  them.  The  snccess  of  the  Bajfreath 
Festivals  has  shown,  moreover,  that  many  millions  of 
dollars  would  have  flowed  into  the  pockets  of  the  Monioh- 
ers  had  they  allowed  the  King  and  Semper  to  build  one 
of  the  finest  theatres  in  the  world  in  their  city,  and  make 
it  the  place  for  the  Festivals  projected  by  Wagner.  But 
when  all  the  newspapers  were  combining  with  profes- 
sional musicians,  politicians,  and  priests  in  declarii^; 
Wagner  a  charlatan  and  a  dangerous  person,  the  populace 
itself  can  hardly  be  blamed  for  having  fancied  that  this 
tempest  in  a  teapot  really  threatened  ruin  to  the  coun- 
try. The  King  was  informed  by  his  confidential  advis- 
ers, supported  by  the  chief  of  police  and  the  Archbishop, 
that  there  was  actual  danger  of  an  insurrection.  His 
answer  was :  "  I  will  show  my  dear  people  that  I  place  its 
confidence,  its  love,  above  everything";  and  he  be^ed 
Wagner  to  leave  the  city  until  the  storm  had  blown  over. 
The  enemies  chuckled  with  delight.  They  fancied  the 
"monster"  had  been  got  rid  of  for  good.  But  the  King 
was  not  snoh  a  fickle  lover.     As  Wagner  wrote  to 


Alf  IDEAL  8WI88  HOME  181 

**The  stories  you  lead  in  the  papers  of  my  flying  the  conntiy 
are  wholly  untrue.  The  King  did  nothing  of  the  kind.  He  implored 
me  to  leave  ;  said  my  life  was  in  danger ;  that  the  director  of  the 
police  had  represented  to  him  the  positive  necessity  for  my  quitting 
Munich,  or  he  could  not  guarantee  my  safety.  Think,  so  greatly 
did  he  fear  the  populace !  The  populace  opposed  to  me  ?  No ;  not 
if  they  knew  me.  My  return,  I  am  told,  is  only  a  question  of  time, 
until  the  King  is  able  to  change  his  advisers.  May  he  come  out  of 
his  troubles  well.'* 

Banished  again!  Was  ever  man  so  unfortunate?  But 
there  was  one  consolation.  In  this  misfortune,  as  in  the 
catastrophes  in  London  and  Paris,  the  nobility  of  his 
character,  artistic  and  personal,  stands  out  proudly 
against  the  contemptible  meanness,  cowardice,  and  men- 
dacity of  his  enemies.  Their  motives  were  pure  selfish- 
ness and  malice;  his  sole  aim  was  to  find  a  theatre  and 
funds  that  would  enable  him  before  his  death  to  super- 
intend the  production  of  the  greatest  art-works  ever 
created  on  German  soil.  Can  we  wonder  that  during 
this  second  exile  he  sympathized  more  than  ever  with 
the  pessimism  of  Schopenhauer,  with  his  contemptuous 
denunciation  of  mankind,  his  bitter  and  imsparing 
exposure  of  all  the  petty,  selfish,  and  sensual  motives 
which  thwart  the  efforts  of  art  to  assert  itself  in  a 
utilitarian  world? 

AN  IDEAL  SWISS  HOME 

The  Munich  dream  —  disturbed  by  so  many  night- 
mares—  had  lasted  just  a  year  and  a  half.  In  May, 
1864,  he  had  arrived  in  Munich ;  in  December,  1865,  he 
returned  to  Switzerland,  his  usual  refuge  in  moments  of 
distress.     After  a  brief  sojourn  at  Vevey  and  Genevay 


182  POLITICAL  AND  PERSONAL 

and  an  esouxsioa  to  Southern  France,  lie  returned  to  his 
old  haunts  at  Lucerne.  When  the  King  requested  him 
to  leave  Munich,  he  did  so  not  only  much  against  his 
wishes,  but  he  evinced  hia  continued  good-will  by  grant- 
ing his  friend  au  annuity  of  almost  $4000.  With  this 
in  prospect,  Wagnei  was  able  to  look  about  for  a  home 
that  would  give  him  the  seclnsion,  comfort,  fresh  air, 
and  inspiring  scenery  that  he  always  found  such  great 
aids  to  hia  composition.  About  half  an  hour's  walk 
from  Lucerne  there  la  a  sort  of  promontory  known  as 
Triebschen.  This,  for  six  years, —  until  he  moved  to 
Eayreuth, —  became  his  home.  And  a  more  delightful 
home  it  would  be  difficult  to  find  anywhere:  the  open 
lake  on  three  sides,  to  the  left  Lucerne,  straight  ahead 
the  sunny  peaceful  Rigl,  to  the  right  the  stern,  storm- 
threatening  Mt.  Pilatus.  The  two-story  square  house 
itself  is  without  any  pretensions  to  style  or  beauty,  but 
is  roomy  and  invitingN* 

In  Munich,  after  the  King  had  decided  that  the 
Nibelung's  Ring  should  be  produced  as  soon  as  it  was 
completed,  the  composer  had  taken  up  Siegfried  again, 
after  an  interruption  of  seven  years.  The  furious  oppo- 
sition aroused  against  the  project  of  a  Nibelung  Theatre 
and  Festival  induced  him,  however,  to  resume  the  Meia- 
tersinger  score,  since  that  would  not  call  for  such  special 
conditions.  To  this  he  now  devoted  himself  at  Trieb- 
schen.    The  domestic  comforts  and  superior  table  which 


'  Thia  house  Is  now  the  property  of  an  eccentric  Americao,  who  has 
BDrrounded  It  with  heautiful  gardens  and  keeps  a  targe  kennel  of  dogn, 
but  absolutely  retuHes  permission  (he  is  said  to  have  denied  it,  a  few 
years  ago,  even  to  Coslma  Wagner)  to  see  the  Interior.  His  nearest 
neighbor  Is  the  CbeTsller  von  Hesse. Wartegg,  wbo  Uvea  lb  a  cbaiming 
villa  with  hii  wife,  nte  Aliimie  Hauk. 


BOTAL  AND  OTHER  VISITOMa  183 

the  King's  pension  enabled  him  to  en  jo j,  hadabenefieial 
effect  on  his  health.  In  plaee  of  the  two  or  three  hoora 
to  which  ill  health  had  limited  his  daily  work  in  Zfirich 
at  the  time  when  pettjr  cares  lowered  his  Titality,  he 
now  devoted  himself  to  his  task  from  eight  in  the  morn- 
ing tin  five.  The  evenings  were  given  np  to  walks  and 
to  social  diversion.  The  wife  of  Hans  von  Bfilow,  with 
her  childreni  had  accompanied  him  to  Triebechen,  and 
in  June  Bfilow  himself  arrived,  and  made  the  pianoforte 
arrangement  of  the  introduction  to  the  MeUiertimger. 
Wagner's  enemies  had  socceeded  in  making  Munich 
^'too  hot "  for  him,  too.  Leaving  his  ^mily  at  Lucerne, 
BOlow  went  to  Basel  in  the  winter  to  earn  his  living  as 
a  piano-teacher.  In  October  Wagner  had  been  so  lucky 
as  to  secure  a  new  assistant  who  was  destined  soon  to 
become  his  greatest  interpreter:  Hans  Ricbter  arrived 
and  forthwith  set  to  work  copying  the  first  act  (which 
was  at  once  forwarded  to  the  publisher)  while  the  com- 
poser was  completing  the  sketch  of  the  third  act. 

BOYAL  AND  OTHER  VISITOBS 

Besides  Bfilow  and  Richt^r,  Wagner  had  some  other 
interesting  visitors  during  tJie  first  three  years  of  his 
sojourn  at  Triebschen.  (ytm  of  these  was  no  other  than 
King  Ludwig  himself,  who  gave,  by  his  repeated  visits 
to  his  friend,  at  so  considerable  a  distance  from  Munich, 
the  most  convincing  proof  that  his  personal  admiration 
for  him  had  not  decreased  and  that  great  must  have  been 
the  pressure  brought  to  bear  on  him  before  he  could 
have  been  induced  to  request  one  so  dear  to  him  to  leave 
the  capital.  These  visits  of  course  gave  great  displeas* 


184  POLITICAL  ASD  PEB80SAL 

are  to  the  Munich  Philiatinea.  In  a  letter'  to  a  dress- 
maker in  Munich  named  Bertha  (whom  we  shall  meet 
again  presently),  Wagner's  cook,  Verena  Weidmann, 
complains  that  she  has  been  very  busy  on  account  of  the 
presence  of  Madame  von  Billow  and  all  her  family  j  add- 
ing, "there  is  again  a  great  hubbub  in  Munich  because 
the  King  came  to  U8,  and  I  am  beginning  to  believe 
that  we  shall  never  return." 

These  royal  visits  were  made  incognito,  and  gave  rise 
to  the  most  romantic  rumors.  The  French  poet,  Catulle 
Mendes,  author  of  a  charming  book  of  essays  on  Wag- 
ner, gives  an  amusing  account 'of  a  visit  he  paid  with 
two  friends  —  a  gentleman  and  a  lady  —  to  the  object  of 
his  adoration  about  this  period,  and  how  astonished  they 
were  at  the  obaeijuiousness  of  every  one  in  the  hotel,  the 
landlord  even  coming  to  the  carriage  to  kiss  their  hands 
when  thpy  went  for  a  drive  to  Triebschen.  In  the  streets 
the  people  stood  in  a  line  with  uncovered  heada  as  they 
passed.  Moreover,  if  they  went  to  visit  Wagner  in  a 
row-boat,  which  was  the  shortest  way,  they  were  fol- 
lowed across  the  lake  by  some  Englishmen,  who  waited 
for  hours  near  Wagner's  house.  On  inquiring  at  the 
hotel  why  such  a  fuss  was  made  over  a  few  poor  devils 
of  tourists,  they  discovered  that  Mendf^s  waa  taken  for 
King  Ludwig,  his  friend  for  Prince  Taxis,  and  the  lady 
for  —  Madame  Patti!  It  was  useless  to  protest  their 
innocence.  "Sire,"  said  the  landlord,  "everything  shall 
be  in  accordance  with  your  Majesty's  wishes,  and,  since 
that  is  desired,  the  incognito  shall  be  respected."  The 
Englishmen  had  accompanied  them  in  the  belief  that 


BOTAL  AND  OTHER  VISITORS  185 

Madame  Patti  was  visiting  Wagner  to  study  with  him 
a  new  rdle,  and  in  the  hope  of  hearing  a  few  strains! 

CatuUe  Mend^s  had  met  Wagner  in  Paris  some  years 
previously,  and  was  known  to  him  as  one  of  his  most 
ardent  champions.  They  expected,  therefore,  to  be  weU 
received,  but  were  hardly  prepared  for  the  cordial  dem- 
onstrations with  which  they  were  welcomed.  Wagner 
threw  his  cap  in  the  air,  danced  for  joy,  embraced  them, 
and  dragged  them  off  to  his  house,  where  he  insisted  on 
their  spending  most  of  their  time  during  their  sojourn 
of  several  weeks.  They  were  struck,  as  before,  by  '^the 
magnificent  expression  of  dignity  and  serenity '^  in  his 
face,  his  small  pale  lips,  the  large  beautiful  forehead, 
and  especially  the  clear,  frank,  dreamy  eyes,  ''like  those 
of  a  child  or  a  virgin. '^  More  than  once,  when  they 
called  early,  they  surprised  him  in  his  strange  morning 
dress: — 

**  Coat  and  trouseis  of  golden  satin  embroidered  with  pearl 
flowers';  for  he  had  a  passionate  love  for  luminous  stufiCs  that  spread 
themselves  like  sheets  of  flame  or  fall  in  splendid  folds.  Velvets 
and  sUks  abounded  in  his  drawing-room  and  his  study,  in  broad 
masses  or  flowing  plaits,  anywhere,  without  the  pretext  of  furni- 
ture, without  other  reason  than  their  beauty,  to  give  the  poet  the 
enchantment  of  their  glorious  brilliancy.'* 

While  they  were  waiting  for  dinner  in  the  large  salon 
with  its  fine  view  of  the  mountains,  the  guests  were 
sometimes  seated,  but  the  nervous  and  active  host  never. 
Mendki  does  not  remember  to  have  seen  him  seated  a 
single  time  except  at  meals  or  at  the  piano.  Always 
going  and  coming,  moving  about  the  chairs,  searching 
in  all  his  pockets  for  his  snuff-box,  which  always  seemed 
lost,  or  for  his  spectacles^  which  were  sometimes  hung  up 


186  POLITICAL  AND  PEBSONAL 

OQ  the  chandeliers,  but  never  on  his  nose,  taking  oB  bis 
velvet  cap,  jamming  it  between  his  hands,  putting  it  back 
on  his  head,  he  was  always  talking,  talking,  talking^ 
about  Paris,  about  Farsifal,  about  the  King,  about  Ros- 
sini, about  newspapers,  Bach,  Auber,  Weber,  Schroeder- 
Devrient,  Sclmorr,  Tristan,  and  a  hundred  other  topics, 
wliile  his  guests,  overwhelmed,  laughed  and  wept  with 
him,  indulged  in  his  visions  and  ecstasies,  wherever  his 
imperious  words  led  them.  Towards  the  ParisianB  and 
Paris,  in  spite  of  the  TannMuaer  affair,  he  not  only  had 
no  ill  feeling,  but,  says  Mend^s,  "  I  saw  his  eyes  suffused 
with  tears  at  the  mention  of  a  certain  corner-house 
which  he  remembered  and  which  had  been  demolished." 
Another  French  visitor,  Judith  Gautier,  daughter  of 
the  great  poet,  has  given  us  a  charming  description  of 
some  happy  weeks  she  spent  as  Wagner's  guest  at  Trieb- 
Bchen.'  She  dwells  on  the  enthusiasm  which  had  led 
her  to  write  a  few  essays  on  his  music  in  Paris  and  for- 
ward them  to  him  for  his  criticism  or  possible  approval, 
hardly  daring  to  hope  for  an  answer  from  one  80  great 
and  so  busy.  A  few  weeks  later,  however,  she  received 
a  letter  in  a  handwriting  which  she  knew  not,  but  divined. 
Wagner  cordially  thanked  her  for  her  articles,  in  which 
he  had  found  notJiing  to  correct  or  suggest,  and  begged 
to  enroll  her  in  tJie  small  circle  of  true  friends  whose 
clairvoyant  sympathy  constituted  his  only  fame.  He 
added  that  he  hoped  soon  to  see  her  in  Paris;  but  as  he 
did  not  come,  she  finally  concluded  to  go  and  call  on 
him  at  Lucerne.  When  she  arrived,  she  hardly  had  the 
courage  to  carry  out  her  plan.  Such  strange  stories 
were  told  about  him.  She  was  informed  that  no  one 
'  B.  Wagner  e(  ion  CEuvre. 


BOTAL  AND  OTHER  VISITORS  187 

was  allowed  to  enter  his  house,  which  was  peopled  by  a 
seraglio  of  women  from  all  countries,  in  luxurious  gar- 
ments. The  composer  was  represented  as  being  unsocial, 
sinister,  living  in  strict  seclusion,  guarded  by  two  large 
savage  black  dogs.^  Of  course,  she  found  all  these 
things  to  be  the  usual  anti- Wagnerian  fables.  There 
was  at  least  one  dog,  it  is  true,  a  big  Newfoundland 
named  Buss,  but  he  was  not  savage,  and  he  soon  became 
a  good  friend  of  the  Frenchwoman  and  paid  her  visits  at 
the  hotel.  Nor  was  his  master  as  black  as  he  had  been 
painted.  To  her,  as  to  all  who  did  not  persecute  him, 
he  was  one  of  the  most  amiable  men  she  had  ever  met. 
What  had  struck  her  most  on  first  meeting  him,  even 
more  than  his  massive  head  and  keen  glance,  was  ''the 
expression  of  infinite  kindness  which  played  about  his 
lips  and  which  none  of  his  portraits  had  led  me  to  look 
for.  This  almost  celestial  kindness  I  had  occasion  to 
notice  constantly;  it  was  reflected  in  the  veneration  felt 
toward  him  not  only  by  his  family  but  by  all  about  him ; 
the  personnel  of  his  small  home  even  abused  his  amia- 
bility." It  was  true  heart-politeness  and  not  the  merely 
"theoretical"  civility  so  common  in  the  world.  "A 
Frenchman,  Count  Gobineau,  said  of  Wagner,  *He  can 
never  be  perfectly  happy,  because  he  will  always  have 
some  one  about  him  whose  sorrow  he  must  share.' " 

Madame  Gautier  does  not  overlook  that  temper  of  his 
which  at  all  times  of  his  life  led  to  explosions  of  wrath 
or  to  excessively  frank  and  violent  utterances  which  did 

1  Similar  ttoriM  are  stiU  in  circulation  in  Lnceme,  where  I  was 
informed  in  1891  that  at  times,  when  King  Ludwig  was  Wagner's  guest 
these  dogs  kept  at  bay  the  messengers  sent  after  him  from  Munich 
and  compeUed  them  to  wait  several  days,  till  it  suited  His  Hajesty's 
pleasure  to  become  visible!  Also  stories  about  nootnnud  boat-rides,  eto. 


188  POLITICAL  AND  PERSONAL 

not  spare  evea  his  beat  friends.  But  they  were,  as  she 
adds,  but  momentary  ebullitions,  always  followed  by 
remorse  and  a  sincere  desire  to  repair  the  damage  to 
]«raonal  feelings.  At  Triebsohen  there  were  few  oppor- 
tunities for  tills  volcanic  side  of  his  character  to  come  to 
the  surface;  he  lived  alone  with  the  Biilow  family,  and 
visitors  were  infrequent.  Much  of  his  time  was  de- 
voted to  reading,  in  which  be  took  great  pleasure :  "  In 
these  hours  of  peace  and  contemplation  he  had  moments 
of  divine  contentment.  An  expression  of  incomparable 
tenderness  hovered  over  his  features,  and  a  pallor,  which 
was  not  that  of  ill-health,  suffused  bis  face  like  a  light 
cloud." 

Franz  Liszt  was  another  interesting  visitor  of  the 
Triebsnhen  refugee.  The  tale  of  his  visit,  as  related  by 
Pohl,'  who  was  liis  companion,  is  somewhat  mysterious 
and  rninautic.  The  two  great  musicians  had  not  met 
as  frequently  after  Wagner's  amnesty  as  they  must  bave 
wished,  for  Liszt  ha<l  gone,  in  1861,  to  live  in  Kome. 
The  reader  has  perhaps  wondered  why,  since  1861,  there 
have  been  no  more  citations  in  this  volume  from  the 
Wagner-Liszt  Correspondence.  For  the  simple  reason 
that  it  comes  to  an  end  in  that  year.  When  the  two 
volumes  first  appeared,  it  was  taken  as  a  matter  of 
course  that  another  one,  if  not  two,  would  follow;  yet 
the  statement  has  been  made  by  those  who  claimed  to 
have  it  from  Cosiiua  Wagner  herself,  that  there  are  no 
more  of  these  letters.  But  it  seems  improbable,  almost 
incredible,  that  two  such  intimate  friends  who  had  ex- 
changed 316  letters  in  twenty  years,  should  not  write 
another  one  in  the  twenty-two  years  following.  Liszt's 
1  KUnchner't  Wagntr  Jahrfmch,  188S,  pp.  TS-a<. 


BOTAL  AXD  OTHER   nSTTOMM  1^ 

departaie  from  Weimar  was  a  seiinis  Vjlw  jo  Wkcusc. 
for  it  left  him  for  seren  yean  (l&^-lNMt  wrifoxs  a 
"Bayreuth,"  such  as  Weimar  had  toeii  fcT  ytfz.  jssis^. 
Yet  Liszt  had  not  left  that  eitj  of  his  ovn  c^^^k.  bes 
simply  because  the  despotic  Intendant  Din2«:l<««c:  i 
upset  all  his  plans  in  regard  to  the  *~  music  of  t£ 
future'';  his  departure  was  therefore  no  cauK  for  a 
'*  rupturey"  such  as  rumor  said  existed  between  him  and 
Wagner.     Dr.  Hansliek  lemazks : ' — 


''  It  is  well  known  thai  a  long 
two  friends,  the  princi|Mi  caiiM  of  wUeh  is  asoacd  to 
this,  tbiU  Ijstt*s  feelingi  as  a  lither  and  a  Cashcfie  |«ic9«  4faeiikdlj 
revolted  againrt  a  marriage  of  bis  daogbter.  BHaw's  wife,  wflh 
Wagner.  Liait  was  not  pnaent  either  at  tte  fim  jMifiiiMiMi  of 
TriMiOM  ami  JmMe  in  Monicfa  (1  W5>  or  at  the  Isjing  of  the 
stone  of  the  Bayieoth  Tbeane  (1872).  Tbe  recoDcsaatioB  did 
take  plaoe  till  later,  and  eontinned  op  u>  Wagner^s  death.^ 

This  comes  about  as  near  the  truth  as  Hansliek's 
statements  usually  do.  In  the  first  place,  it  is  absurd  to 
attribute  any  such  motives  to  Liszt,  for  the  simple  rea^ 
son  that  he  was  in  the  very  same  boat  as  Wagner,  For 
years  he  too  had  wished  to  marry  a  divorced  woman,  but 
was  restrained  by  religious  customs  (see  his  last  printed 
letter  to  Wagner);  and  Liszt  was  not  the  man  to  find 
fault  with  others  for  following  his  own  example;  more- 
over, Wagner  and  Cosima  were  not  married  till  1870.  In 
the  second  place,  there  was  obviously  no  "  estrangement.^ 
If  Liszt  did  not  attend  the  TVtJtoii  performaooes,  he 
nevertheless  visited  Wagner  at  Munich  in  1864;  and  in 
the  autumn  of  1867  he  again  called  on  him,  jost  after  the 
Meuieninger  score  had  been  completed. 

1  Mu9ik»U$eh€S  und  LUerariseh€$,^tL 


190  POLITICAL  AND  PSBSOyAL 

It  ia  this  viait  tliat  Pohl  describes.  He  had  met  Liszt 
at  Stuttgiirt  and  been  asked  to  accompany  him  to  Basel, 
whence  they  went  to  Triebsehen.  Liszt  evidently  had 
some  secret  to  talk  over  with  Wagner,  so  PoUl  iillowed 
him  to  proceed  alone  to  the  villa  while  he  went  on  a 
lake  excursion.  When  he  returned  to  the  hotel  he  found 
Wagner's  coachman  waiting  for  hira  with  orders  to  bring 
him  over,  liag  and  baggage.  Although  Pohl  failed  to 
discover  the  cause  of  Liszt's  mysterious  visit,  he  waa 
amply  compensated.     To  quote  his  own  words:  — 

■'  When  I  ftrriveJ,  Liail  wm  BJtUog  M  the  B^cliHtein  grand,  with 
Ihe  open  orchefltml  avoro  of  tlie  iaatr<:omp\eled  JHeisteninfftr  before 
lilui ;  tbe  first  act  had  Juat  been  played  through,  and  Liazi  had 
bej^n  the  second.  Tit  see  him  play  this  score,  utterly  new  to  him, 
and  one  of  the  moat  diffiault  in  existence,  at  first  sight,  was  astoand- 
inSi  unique  ia  fact,  WagriBT  sang  tbf  vocal  parla ;  I  have  never 
lieiird  a  more  beauiiful  perfcimiance  of  Dir  MehUninger.  Thi* 
trutlifnlneaa  ol  eipreBalon,  this  perfection  of  phrasing,  this  cleameM 
ill  nil  details,  was  enchanting.  Only  at  the  finale  of  the  second  act 
did  I.iszt  hesitate  —'That  must  be  heard  on  the  stage;  it  ia  too 
polyphonic  to  be  reproduced  on  the  piano,' he  said.  .  .  .  The  third 
act  pleased  Liszt  moat  of  all  —  such  a  thing  no  one  could  write 
but  Wagner,  he  exclaimed  repeatedly,  stopping  In  hia  aatonish- 
ment  and  delight,  to  play  some  pasaages  over  again." 

The  soiree  continued  till  midnight.  Wagner,  who  was 
always  very  kind  to  his  servantSj  had  considerately  sent 
them  to  bed,  as  they  had  to  get  up  before  five  to  take 
away  Liszt;  so  he  personally  lighted  the  candles,  showed 
his  guests  their  rooms,  and  then  locked  the  house.  After 
Liszt's  departure  he  did  not  see  him  again  till  eight 
years  later,  when  he  came  from  Vienna  to  Pesth  to  direct 
a  concert  for  the  benefit  of  the  Bayreuth  funds,  at  which 
Liszt  played. 


LOVE  OF  LUXUBT 


191 


LOVE  OP  LUXUEY 

While  Pohl  was  eating  his  first  supper  at  Triebschen 
Wagner  told  him  all  about  his  house  and  what  trouble 
he  had  had  to  get  it  comfortably  arranged.  There  had 
been  no  stoves,  and  in  the  salon  he  had  put  a  new  fire- 
place which  had  taken  the  Lucerne  workmen  an  incredi- 
bly long  time  to  build. 

**  But  now/'  says  Pohl,  **  everything  was  in  order,  newly  car- 
peted and  furnished.  Many  things  Wagner  had  brou^^t  along 
from  Munich ;  it  is  well  known  that  he  had  an  astounding  talent 
for  cosy  arrangement  and  tasteful  decoration.  All  the  rooms  were 
brilliantly  lighted,  partly  by  chandeliers,  pactly  by  wall-lamps ;  in 
his  bedroom  a  red  glass  lamp  was  burning.** 

So  far  Pohl.  The  alterations  in  the  house  apparently 
did  not  meet  with  the  approval  of  "  Vronka,''  as  the  cook 
was  called.  In  one  of  her  letters  to  the  Viennese  dress- 
maker, Bertha,  she  growls  that 

**  the  workmen  never  get  out  of  our  house  ;  Master  is  having  the 
whole  house  arranged  according  to  his  ideas.**  And  in  another 
letter  (Sept.,  *68)  :  **In  our  house  the  greatest  disorder  prevails  ; 
they  are  building,  and  on  a  large  scale ;  Master  is,  indeed,  having 
all  this  done  at  his  own  expense,  which  I  can  hardly  approve,  since 
after  all  it  is  not  his  own  house.  .  .  .  Otherwise  it  is  very  lonely 
here;  no  one  comes  except  these  workmen.** 

Yronka's  letters  also  contain  a  certain  kind  of  items 
which  touch  upon  the  oddest  of  Wagner's  foibles.  On 
June  26,  1866,  she  promises  Bertha  some  money  from 
her  master  in  a  few  weeks,  and  orders  twenty-five  to 
thirty  ells  of  light  blue  atlas  for  the  bed.  On  May  12, 
1867,  we  read^  '^  Yesterday  a  check  for  a  thousand  florins 


192  POLITICAL  AND  PERSOSAL 

was  sent  to  you";  and  again,  on  Sept.  9,  18C8,  "At  Mas- 
ter's request  I  send  you  herewith  a  thousand  florins." 
It  is  satisfactory  to  read,  on  auch  unquestionable  evi- 
dence, that  Wagner  paid  his  bills,  for  hia  enemies  con- 
stantly asserted  that  he  did  not.  But  what  were  these 
articles  that  cost  him  such  big  sums?  The  answer  to 
this  question  has  been  already  hinted  at,  and  is  to  be 
found  in  full  in  a  coUeetion  of  sixteen  letters  from 
Wagner  himself  to  his  dressmaker,  which  were  sold  in 
Vienna  in  1877  for  a  hundred  florins  and  published  in 
the  Neue  Freie  Presae  by  the  feuilletonist  Spitzer.  They 
are  certainly  most  remarkable  documents,  as  are  the 
sketches,  by  Wagner  himself,  of  certain  garments  that 
he  wanted,  in  the  description  of  which  he  was  as  minute 
as  a  writer  and  illustrator  for  a  fashion  journal.  Here, 
for  instance,  is  the  kind  of  a  dressing-gown  he  ordered 
in  one  letter :  — 

"  Pink  satin,  stuffed  with  eider  down  and  quilted  in  sqiureg,  like 
the  gn;  and  red  coverlet  I  had  of  you  ;  exactly  that  mibetiuice, 
light,  not  heavy  ;  of  course  with  tlie  upper  and  under  material 
quill«d  together.  Lined  with  light  satin,  gii  widths  at  the  bottom, 
therefore  very  wide.  Then  put  on  extra  —  not  sown  on  to  the 
quilted  material  —  a  padded  niching  all  round  of  the  same  material ; 
from  the  waiat  the  niching  must  extend  downwards  into  a  raised 
facing  (or  garniture)  cutting  off  the  front  part.  Study  the  drawing 
carefully  :  at  the  bottom  the  facing  or  Sehopp,  which  must  be 
worked  in  a  particularly  beautiful  manner,  is  to  spread  out  on  both 
aides  to  have  an  ell  in  widtli  and  then,  rising  to  the  waist,  loBe 
itself  in  the  ordinary  width  of  (he  padded  ruching  which  runs  all 

And  so  on.  Whence  we  may  infer  that  the  composer 
of  the  Meistersinger  designed  his  dressing-gowns  as  care- 
fully and  aa  elaborately  as  his  operatic  scores. 


LOVE  OF  LUXUBT  198 

Besides  the  dressing-gown,  many  other  things  were 
ordered,  always  with  the  same  minute  indications  as  to 
form  and  color:  silks,  satins,  laces;  pink,  green,  bine, 
gray.  The  writer  is  very  particular,  too,  in  regard  to  the 
shades,  as  in  this  sentence:  ''Do  not  confound  No.  2, 
the  dark  pink,  with  the  old  violet  pink,  which  is  not 
what  I  mean,  but  real  pink,  only  very  dark  and  fiery.'* 
One  of  his  accounts  included  300  ells  of  satin  in  thir- 
teen colors,  the  cost  of  which  amounted  to  3010  florins. 
The  sixteen  letters  cover  the  period  1864-1868,  the  first 
of  them  being  dated  at  Penzing  (near  Vienna),  and  the 
others  at  Munich  and  Triebschen. 

If  the  Socratic  ''Know  thyself  "  is  the  highest  test  of 
wisdom,  Wagner  was  a  very  wise  man  when  he  wrote  to 
Liszt:  "I  am  much  better  qualified  to  squander  60,000 
francs  in  six  months  than  to  earn  it";  or  to  Praeger: 
"  By  nature  I  am  luxurious,  prodigal,  and  extravagant, 
much  more  than  Sardanapalus  and  all  the  old  Emperors 
put  together."  His  penchant  for  the  good  things  in  life 
was  revealed  in  his  boyhood.  Glasenapp  relates  ^  how, 
when  Bichard  was  eight  years  old,  he  one  day  traded  off 
his  volume  of  Schiller's  poems  for  a  Windbeutel  (a  sort 
of  cake)  at  conditor  Orlandi's,  opposite  his  home. 
Praeger,  when  Wagner  was  his  guest  in  London,  had 
occasion  to  note  his  curious  craving  for  certain  luxuries 
of  life :  — 

**  The  first  thing  he  wanted  was  an  easel  for  his  work,  so  that 
he  might  stand  up  to  score.  No  sooner  was  that  desire  graUfled 
than  he  insisted  on  an  eider-down  quUt  for  his  bed.  .  •  .  When  he 
arrived  in  London,  his  means  were  limited,  but  nevertheless  the 
satisfaction  of  the  desires  was  what  he  ever  adhered  to.** 

1  Kiirichner's  Wagner  Jahrhuch,  1886,  p.  6S. 


194  POLITWAL  AND  PSBSONAL 

On  another  page,  after  referring  to  the  attacks  of 
erysipelas  from  wliich  W^ner  had  suffered  ever  since 
he  was  a,  boy,  and  which  had  made  his  nervous  system 
su  delicate,  sensitive,  and  irritable,  Praeger  gives  this 
extremely  interesting  revelation:  — 

"  Spasmodic  displays  of  temper  were  often  tie  result,  I  feel 
(irmly  convinced,  of  purely  pliysical  suffering.  Ills  akin  vras  so 
aenxillve  that  he  wore  silk  next  to  the  body,  and  tliat  at  a  lime 
when  he  was  not  the  favored  of  fortune.  In  London  he  bought 
the  allk,  and  had  shirts  made  tor  him  ;  so  too  it  was  with  his  other 
gamieTits.  We  went  tof^tber  tu  a  fashionable  tailor  in  Regent 
Strtet,  wliere  he  ordered  that  his  pockets  and  the  back  of  hia  vest 
should  be  of  silk,  aa  also  the  lining  of  his  frock-coat  sleeves  ;  for 
Wagner  uould  not  endure  the  touch  of  cotton,  as  it  produced  a 
shudderiug  sensatloii  throughout  the  body  that  distressed  him." 

The  psychologii.!  and  biographic  import  of  this  seem- 
ingly trifling  observation  is  great;  it  throws  light  both 
on  Wagner's  irritable  temper  and  on  his  craving  for 
luxury.  It  should  teach  pachydermatous  Philistines 
not  to  judge  thin-skinned  men  of  genius  from  their  own 
point  of  view.  No  doubt  the  silk  and  aatin  which  Wag- 
ner wore  on  his  person  by  day  and  covered  himself  with 
at  night  exercised  a  soothing  effect  on  his  nerves,  over- 
wrought by  excessive  work  and  continual  worries  and 
disappointments. 

This  applies  to  the  alyffs  he  wore;  but  how  about  the 
colors?  How  about  the  rich  furniture,  and  the  gorgeous 
curtains  of  silk  and  satin  that  divided  his  rooms  in  place 
of  walls?  Did  they,  too,  serve  to  soothe  his  nerves? 
On  the  contrary,  it  is  probable  that  he  loved  these  rich 
colors,  —  which  he  could  find  in  such  gorgeousness  only 
in  silks  and  other  fineries,  —  because  they  stimulated 


LOVE  OF  LUXURY  196 

Ills  fancy  through  the  eyes.     Rumor  had   it  that  he 
altered  the  color  of  his  surroundings  and  dress  in  accord- 
ance with  the  nature  of  the  operatic  scene  he  was  at 
work  upon.     This  may  or  may  not  have  been  true,  but 
it  seems  certain  that  these  bright  colors  had  an  exhil- 
arating and  inspiriting  effect  on  him.     The  dark,  misty 
winter-weather  of  Switzerland  made  him   inclined  to 
melancholy,  and  disinclined  to  work,  while  the  bright 
colors  of  his  silk  surrounding  and  the  brilliant  illumina- 
tion helped  him  to  brave  the  dreary  winters,  and  to  bring 
some  of  the  glories  of  Nature's  colors  and  cheering  sun- 
shine into  his  home.     Moreover,  a  psychologist  would 
expect  that  a  man  who  had  an  ear  for  delicate  shades  of 
orchestral  sounds  such  as  no  mortal  ever  had,  would  be 
correspondingly  refined  and  dainty  in  his  color  percep- 
tions :  and  we  have  seen  how  particular  Wagner  was  in 
regard  to  shades  and  tints.      It  is  therefore  absurd  to 
treat  this  matter,  as  his  enemies  did,  simply  as  '^  femi- 
nine love  of  finery"  which  in  a  man  is  "contemptible." 
True,  such  aesthetic  indulgence  does  not  harmonize  with 
the  modem  conception  of  man  as  a  biped  who  smokes, 
plays  poker,  likes  to  go  to  war,  leaves  art  and  books  to 
women,  talks   politics,  business,  and  races,  and  wears 
black  clothes.     But  men  of  genius  have  always  been 
distinguished  for  certain  feminine  traits  in  their  char- 
acter; Wagner  had  more  than  one  such  trait,  and  though 
we  may  pronounce  his  devotion  to  gorgeous  satin  gowns 
and  curtains  foolish,  it  is  surely  more  foolish  to  make 
it  the  basis  of  attacks  on  his  personality. 

Moli^re,  as  his  biographers  tell  us,  liked  a  sumptuous 
life,  and  his  wardrobe  was  richly  supplied.  Was  he 
therefore  "effeminate"?    Were  not  men  in  general,  a 


196  POLITICAL  AND  PERSOyAL 

L'entiiry  or  more  ago,  more  addicted  to  finery  than  women? 
It  is  related  tliat  Haydn,  before  lie  sat  down  to  compose, 
"  dressed  himself  with  oare  and  always  put  a  diamond 
ring  upon  his  finger."  Most  men  of  genius  have  some 
such  peculiarity;  Schiller,  for  instance,  who  could  not 
write  comfortably  unless  he  had  a  rotten  apple  on  his 
table. 

Wagner's  letters  to  hia  dressmaker,  inste-ad  of  detract- 
ing from  the  nobility  of  hia  character,  only  serve  to 
emphasize  it.  The  very  fact  that  he  had  such  a  sybaritic 
penchant  to  luxurious  indulgence  brings  out  more  con- 
spicuously hia  astounding  heroism  and  aolf-denial.  It 
makes  it  seem  little  less  than  a  miracle  that,  with  snch 
cravings,  he  should  have  lived,  for  a  quarter  of  a  c-en- 
tury,  a  life  of  privation,  discomfort,  and  annoyance 
when,  by  simply  throwing  his  artistic  ideals  overboard, 
and  remaining  in  the  general  operatic  "swim, "he  might 
have  been  one  of  the  richest  and  most  petted  musicians 
of  the  period.  Had  he  written  more  Htenxis,  he  would 
have  soon  revelled  in  wealth;  had  he,  in  Paris,  even 
made  the  single  concession  of  allowing  a  ballet  to  be 
introduced  in  Tannhdnser,  thousands  would  have  been 
his  reward.  But  not  a  step  would  he  budge  from  his 
artistic  ideals,  for  sybaritic  motives  or  any  others.  And 
most  wonderful  of  all,  year  after  year  he  worked  at  his 
Tetralogy,  though  he  was  convinced  he  would  not  live 
to  see  it  and  certainly  never  receive  any  worldly  profit 
from  it.  That  is  what  I  call  true  nobility  of  character 
—  twenty-five  years  of  possible  comfort  and  im 
sacrificed  to  an  art-ideal!  • 


i 


LOVE  OF  ANIMALS  197 


LOVE  OF  ANIliALB 

Wherever  Wagner  made  his  home  he  loved  to  be 
surrounded  by  animals.  The  cook  "  Vronka,''  in  describ- 
ing the  home  at  Triebschen  to  the  dressmaker  Bertha, 
writes,  after  dwelling  on  the  infrequent  visitors :  "  Then 
we  have  chickens,  peacocks,  our  two  dogs,  which  often 
prove  a  real  pastime.''  Two  dogs,  the  cook  says,  where- 
as Mend^s,  Gautier,  and  Pohl  mention  only  one.  Doubt- 
less the  cook  knew  best;  she  had  to  feed  them;  but  the 
'' enormous"  Newfoundland  Buss  was  obviously  the 
more  notable  of 'the  two.  Pohl  says  of  this  dog  (who 
was  poisoned  at  Bayreuth  and  now  lies  buried  in  the 
Wahnfried  garden  at  his  master's  feet),  that  ''it  took 
Stocker,  who  came  out  at  Buss's  signal,  some  time  to 
convince  the  faithful  guardian  that  I  was  an  admirer  of 
the  master.  Afterwards  we,  Stocker,  Euss,  and  I,  be- 
came the  best  of  friends." 

F.  Avenarius,  the  son  of  Wagner's  half-sister,  has 
preserved^  two  anecdotes  which  show  that  a  love  of 
animals,  like  a  love  of  nature,  was  a  trait  of  Wagner's 
childhood.  The  boy  went  all  over  town  hunting  for 
good-natured  dogs,  and  forming  friendships  with  them. 
One  day  he  heard  whining  sounds  in  a  ditch  and  found 
a  young  puppy.  Knowing  that  no  such  addition  to  the 
large  family  at  home  would  receive  official  approval,  he 
secretly  smuggled  it  into  his  bedroom,  where  he  fed  it 
and  kept  it  warm  until  it  was  betrayed  by  its  whining. 
On  another  occasion  his  mother  heard  peculiar  squeaking 
sounds  in  his  room,  but  could  not  locate  them.    When 

1  AUgemeine  Zeitung,  Munich. 


198  POLITICAL  AND  PERSONAL 

the  teacher  carae  to  give  the  boy  his  lesson,  he  notiiied 
a  peculiai",  disagreeable  odor.  Investigation  brought  to 
light,  in  Richard's  bureau,  a  whole  family  of  young 
rabbits.  "The  poor  things  would  have  died,"  was  the 
boy's  excuse.  He  had  made  an  air-hole  for  them,  and 
his  sister  had  provided  the  food. 

Only  once  in  his  life  did  he  kill  an  animal  for  amuse- 
ment.' He  joined  a  party  of  young  hunters  and  shot  a 
rabbit.  Its  dying  look  met  hia  eyes  and  bo  moved  him 
to  pity  that  nothing  could  have  induced  him  ever  to  go 
hunting  again.  The  impression  then  made  on  him  is 
echoed  in  the  libretto  of  hia  early  opera,  The  Fairies, 
where  the  doe  is  hit  by  the  arrow:  "Oh  sect  the  animal 
weeps,  a  tear  is  in  its  eye.  Oh,  how  its  broken  glances 
rest  on  me! "  And  again  in  his  last  work  in  the  pathetic 
lines  of  Ournemanz  reproaching  Parsifal  for  killing  the 
sacred  awan:  "Was  that  dir  der  treue  Schwan?"  etc,  — 
lines  which  teach  the  duty  of  Pity  more  eloquently  than 
all  the  essays  of  Scliopenliauer,  whom  Wagner  followed, 
from  an  inborn  sympathy,  in  regarding  Pity  as  the 
supreme  moral  law. 

Aniniala  are  introduced  in  all  but  three  of  his  operas 
{Dutchman,  Tristan,  and  MeiKter singer).  There  are 
Jiorses  in  Rienzi,  Tannhtiuser,  Walkure,  Qotterdammer- 
ung;  a  swan  and  dove  in  Lohengrin;  hunting  dogs  in 
Tannkfiitaer ;  a  toad  and  a  snake  in  Rheingold;  a  ram  in 
tlie  Walkure;  a  bear,  a  dragon,  and  a  bird  in  Siegfried; 
ravens  in  GiiUerdamrherung ;  a  awan  in  Parsifal.  The 
swans,  the  bird,  and  the  dragon  are  accompanied  by 

>This  anecdote,  with  several  others  here  repeated,  Is  relal«d  in 
Wagner  vnd  die  Thierwelt  by  Haoa  von  Woliogen,  who  had  them  [roro 
Wagnei  himself. 


LOVE  OF  ANIMALS  199 

some  of  the  most  characteristic  or  beautiful  music  in 
the  respective  operas ;  and  it  is  interesting  to  note  that 
the  swan  motive  in  Lohengrin  reappears  in  a  modified 
form  in  ParsifcU,  just  as  a  few  motives  from  Tristan  are 
introduced  in  the  Meistersinger  where  Sachs  alludes  to 
that  legend.  In  this  delightful  kind  of  self-quotation 
Wagner  followed  the  precedent  of  Mozart,  who  introduces 
a  number  from  Figaro  in  Don  Juan;  with  humorous 
intent,  however,  in  this  case. 

When  Wagner  die^,  in  his  seventieth  year,  several 
interesting  artistic  and  literary  projects  were  buried  with 
him.  One  of  these  was  to  write  "A  History  of  My 
Dogs."  It  would  have  been  an  extremely  interesting 
little  book,  no  doubt,  for,  next  to  his  work  and  a  few 
intimate  friends,  there  was  nothing  in  the  world  to 
which  he  was  so  attached  as  to  his  dogs.  From  his 
early  youth  to  his  last  days  he  always  had  one  who  was 
his  constant  companion,  whether  he  was  writing  or 
resting.  At  Magdeburg,  in  1834,  he  had  a  poodle  of 
musical  propensities  who  accompanied  him  to  all  the 
rehearsals  at  the  theatre.  At  first  he  was  allowed  to 
enter  the  orchestra  circle,  but  when  he  permitted  him- 
self to  "  criticise  "  the  performances,  this  privilege  was 
taken  from  him,  and  he  had  to  wait  at  the  stage  door  to 
accompany  his  master  home.  Wolzogen  thinks  it  was  the 
same  dog  of  whom  Wagner  related  the  following  anec- 
dote. One  day  he  took  him  along  on  an  excursion  into 
the  Saxon  Switzerland.  Wishing  to  climb  a  precipitous 
rock  on  the  Bastei,  and  fearing  that  the  poodle  might 
come  to  grief,  he  threw  down  his  handkerchief  for  the 
dog  to  watch.  But  the  animal  was  too  clever  for  him. 
After  a  moment  of  deliberation,  he  scratched  a  hole  in 


200  POLITICAL  AND  PERSONAL 

the  ground,  buried  the  handkerctiief  for  safe  keeping, 
and  then  made  haste  to  clamber  after  bis  master. 

His  next  pet,  at  Riga,  was  a  big  Newfoundland  dog 
named  Robber.  He  belonged  at  first  to  an  English  mer- 
chant, but  became  so  passionately  attached  to  Wagner, 
following  him  by  day  and  lying  on  his  door-step  at  night, 
that  be  was  at  last  adopted  as  a  member  of  the  family. 
He  too  accompanied  his  master  to  all  the  rehearsals, 
and  on  the  way  he  always  took  a  bath  in  the  canal; 
being  a  Busiiian  dog,  he  kept  up  this  habit  even  in 
winter  provided  he  could  find  a  hole  in  the  ice.  His 
career  as  a  musical  critic  was  cut  short,  like  that  of  the 
poodle.  His  favorite  place  was  between  the  conductor's 
desk  and  the  double-bass  player.  The  latter  he  always 
regarded  with  suspicion  because  of  his  constantly  push- 
ing hia  bow  in  his  direction.  One  evening  a  sudden 
vehement  nfonando  push  of  the  bow  proved  too  much  for 
him,  and  Wagner  was  suddenly  startled,  and  the  piece 
interrupted,  by  the  cry :  "  Herr  Kapellmeister,  the  dog!  " 
Robber  had  the  honor  of  accompanying  his  master  to 
Paris,  on  that  stormy  ocean  trip  which  lasted  almost 
four  weeks;  and  he  is  of  course  the  canine  hero  of  the 
novelette  An  End  in  Paris,  which  contains  many  auto- 
biographic details  in  the  guise  of  fiction.  The  temporary 
loss  of  this  animal  in  London  caused  one  of  the  deepest 
pangs  of  anguish  his  master  ever  felt. 

The  successor  of  Robber  was  Peps,  the  most  famous 
of  all  his  dogs.  He  used  to  say  that  this  dog  helped 
him  to  compose  Tannhauser:  — 

"  It  Beems  that  when  al  the  piano  .  .  .  singing  with  hia  accns- 
tomed  boisterousneBs,  the  dog,  whose  constant  place  was  at  his 
master's  feet,  would  occasionally  leap  to  the  table,  peer  into  his 


LOVE  OF  ANIMALS  201 

face  and  howl  piteoosly.  Then  Wagner  wonld  address  his  *  elo- 
quent critic '  with  *  What  ?  it  does  not  suit  you  ?  *  and  shaking  the 
animal's  paw,  would  say,  quoting  Puck,  *  Well,  I  will  do  thy  bid- 
ding gently.* "  * 

In  later  years  at  Z&rich  he  loved  to  talk  to  liis  dog 
when  taking  his  daily  walk:  — 

**  He  would  declaim  against  imaginary  enemies,  gesticnlate,  and 
vent  his  irascible  excitement  in  loud  speeches,  when  Peps,  *  human 
Peps,*  as  he  called  him,  with  the  sympathy  of  the  intelligent  dumb 
creation,  would  rush  forward,  bark  and  snap  loodfy,  as  if  aiding 
Wagner  in  destroying  liis  enemies,  and  then  retom,  jdainly  addng 
for  friendly  recognition  for  the  demolition.** 

Peps  was  useful  in  reminding  him  of  his  duty  towards 
his  body.  Thus^  in  a  letter  to  Uhlig^  we  rep'l-  **!  am 
done  upi  and  must  get  into  the  open  air :  Peps  won't  leave 
me  in  peace  any  longer.''  There  are  numerous  other 
references  to  Peps  in  the  letters,  sometimes  comic  or 

satiric,  sometimes  pathetic. 

\^ 

*^  To-morrow  I  go  up  the  RigL  Peps  is  barking  loudly.**  From 
Lugano :  **  I  have  written  to  my  wife  to  come  with  Peps.**  **  Peps 
confirms  this  by  a  sneeze.**  In  a  postscript  to  Heine :  **  Peps  is 
still  alive,  but  fearfully  lazy  wheneyer  he  is  not  baridng,** 

In  a  wordy  Peps  was  treated  and  looked  upon  as  a 
member  of  the  family.  We  have  already  seen  that  when 
Liszt  visited  his  friend  in  Ziirich  he  received,  as  a  n# 
plus  uUra  of  affection,  the  pet  name  of  '^  Double-Peps ''; 
which  name  he  gleefully  adopted,  signing  himself  in 
his  next  letter  '*  Your  Double  Peps,  or  Double  eztrait  ds 
Peps,  or  Double  Stout  Peps  con  doppio  movimento  sem- 
pre  crescendo  al  JQf." 

1  Pkaeger,  pp.  137, 209. 


POLITICAL  AXD  PEB80SAL 


On  returning  from  an  excursion  to  Faria  or  London 
Wagner  did  not  fail  to  remember  his  wife  with  a  pres- 
ent; nor  was  Peps  forgotten:  — 

"Peps  received  me  joyfully  at  Uie  wagon;  bat  tben  I  hare 
brought  him  a  beautiful  collar  with  hU  name  (now  become  so 
sacred  to  me)  engraved  on  it.  Be  never  leaves  my  side  any  more  i 
in  the  morning  he  comes  to  my  bed  and  wakes  me;  he  is  a  dear, 
good  animal  I " 

But  Peps  had  to  die,  like  all  of  us.     He  was  too  old 

to  be  taken  to  London,  in  1855,  and  must  have  deeply 
grieved  over  his  master's  four  months'  absence.  For- 
tunately be  survived  bia  return  and  received  Mm  with 
boundless  delight.  The  day  for  the  departure  to  Seelis- 
berg,  where  the  WaUciire  was  to  be  completed,  had  been 
set,  when  the  journey  had  to  be  postponed  two  days  by 
Peps's  illness  and  death.  The  following  extract  from  a 
pathetic  letter  to  Praeger  lets  us  see  deeply  into  Wag- 
ner's heart,  one  of  the  gentlest  and  tenderest  that  ever 
beat: — 


touching  aa 
,  and,  though 


"  Up  to  the  last  moment  Peps  showed 
to  be  almost  heart-rending ;  kept  his  eyes  fixed 
I  chanced  to  move  but  a  few  steps  from  him,  continued  to  follow 
me  with  his  eyes.  He  died  in  my  arms  on  tlie  night  of  the  9th-10th 
of  the  month,  parsing  a  way  without  a,  sound,  quietly  and  peace- 
fiil)y.  On  the  morrow,  midday,  we  buried  him  in  the  garden 
beside  the  house.  1  cried  incessantly,  and  since  then  have  felt 
bitter  pain  and  sorrow  for  the  dear  friend  of  the  past  thirteen 
years,  who  ever  worked  and  walked  with  me.  .  .  .  And  yet  there 
are  those  who  would  scoQ  at  our  feeling  in  such  a  matter!" 

Four  years  before  Peps  died  his  master  had  suffered 
another  loss  which  made  him  give  way  to  heartfelt, 
bitter    mourning.      His    "little    whistling,  chattering, 


LOVE  OF  ANIMALS  208 

household  faiiji"  as  he  called  his  parrot  Papo,  died, 
shortly  after  he  had  learned  a  melody  (cited  in  Letter 
22  to  Uhlig)  which  he  used  to  whistle  at  him  when  he 
came  home  '^with  unspeakable  joy."  It  became  ill,  they 
neglected  too  long  to  send  for  a  surgeon,  and  in  the 
morning  it  was  dead :  — 

**  Ah,  if  I  could  say  to  you  what  has  died  for  me  in  this  dear 
creature  1  It  matters  nothing  to  me  whether  I  am  laughed  at  for 
this.  What  I  feel,  I  cannot  help  feeling ;  and  I  have  no  longer  any 
inclination  to  do  violence  to  my  feelings ;  anyhow,  I  should  have 
to  write  volumes  to  make  dear  to  those  disposed  to  lau£^  at  me, 
what  such  a  small  creature  is  and  can  become  to  a  man  who  in 
everything  is  guided  only  by  phanUuy.  Three  days  have  passed 
and  still  nothing  can  quiet  me ;  and  so  it  is  with  my  wife ; — the 
bird  was  something  indispensable  between  us  and  for  us." 

Wagner's  love  of  animals  was  not  merely  the  semi- 
selfish  emotion  which  the  reciprocated  affection  for 
animals  gives  us.  It  was  manifested  also  in  his  deep 
compassion  for  their  sufferings.  Fish  stories  are  not 
usually  considered  trustworthy,  but  the  following  may 
be  accepted  literally  as  I  have  it  from  Mr.  Anton  Seidl. 
One  morning  Wagner  was  at  the  station  at  Bayreuth, 
waiting  for  the  departure  of  a  train.  Presently  he 
noticed  a  peasant-woman  with  a  covered  basket  in  which 
there  was  a  constant  wriggling  motion.  He  walked  up 
to  the  woman  and  asked  abruptly  what  she  had  in  her 
basket.  She  removed  the  cloth  and  revealed  a  dozen 
fish  in  the  agonies  of  a  slow  death.  Whereupon  Wagner 
suddenly  burst  out  into  a  furious  tira^le  against  the 
astonished  woman,  took  his  pocket-knife  and  cut  off  the 
heads.  He  got  so  excited  over  this  incident  that,  in 
spite  of  repeated  summons,  he  missed  the  tnuiL 


204  POLITICAL  Ayn  PER80XAL 

He  was  often  furiously  excited  about  the  cruel  way 
in  which  cattle  are  slaughtered.  When,  a^  a  boy,  ha 
Baw  for  the  Erst  time  an  axe  descending  on  an  ox's  head, 
followed  by  the  moans  of  the  poor  animal,  his  compan- 
ions could  hardly  hold  him  back  from  rushing  at  the 
butcher.  In  London  streets  he  had  quarrels  with  men 
who  ill-treated  their  horses.  A  ride  on  the  romantic 
Lago  Maggiore  was  spoiled  for  bim  one  day  by  the  sight 
of  poor  fowls  and  ducks  which  were,  as  he  wrote  to 
Dhlig, 

"  BO  vilely  tortured,  and  left  to  the  most  cnial  privatioiu,  that  the 
revolting  unfeclitignesN  nf  (he  men  who  had  tbls  sight  constantljr 
bcfnre  Ibeir  Eyes,  again  filled  me  with  violent  anger.  Aod  lo  know 
that  one  nould  be  merely  laughed  at  If  one  attempted  to  interfere." 

Our  biography  of  Wagner's  dogs  is  not  complete,  as 
nothing  has  been  said  of  the  Viennese  Pol,  and  of  a 
bulldog  named  Leo  whose  accidental  bite  not  only  inter- 
rupted Wagner's  work  several  weeks,  but  gave  rise  to  a 
rumor  that  a  mad  dog  had  bitten  him.  But  I  must  close 
this  chapter  with  a  pretty  genre  picture  painted  by 
Praeger.  While  in  Lontion,  in  1855,  W^ner  took  a 
walk  every  day  in  the  Kegent'a  Park:  — 

"There,  at  the  small  bridge  over  the  ornamental  water,  would 
he  stand  regularly  and  feed  the  ducks,  having  previously  provided 
himself  for  the  purpose  with  a  number  of  French  rolls — rolls 
ordereU  each  day  for  the  occasion.  There  was  a  awan,  too,  that 
came  in  for  much  of  Wfigner's  affection.  It  was  a  regal  bird,  and 
fit,  as  the  master  said,  to  draw  the  chariot  of  Lohengrin.  The 
childlike  happiness,  full  to  overdowing,  with  which  this  innocent 
occupation  filled  Wagner,  was  an  impressive  sight  never  to  be  for- 
gotten. It  was  Wftfrner  you  saw  before  you,  the  natural  man, 
attectionate,  gentle,  and  mirthful." 


PLATFULNB88  AND  HUMOR  205 


PLAYFULNESS  AND  HTJMOB 

There  are  no  doubt  many  Philistines  who  will  look  on 
the  trait  in  Wagner's  character  jnst  described  as  child- 
ish. That  is  precisely  what  it  is;  and  it  is,  moreover, 
one  of  the  main  traits  that  distinguish  a  man  of  genius 
from  a  Philistine,  i.e.  a  person  who  is  not  a  genius  nor 
even  able  to  appreciate  genius.  In  his  admirable  chap- 
ter on  (Jenius  (which  miftrors  Wagner  as  delightfully  as 
its  author)  Schopenhauer  says  that 

it  every  child  is  to  a  certain  extent  a  genius,  and  eveiy  genius 
to  a  certain  extent  a  child.  The  relationship  between  the  two  is 
manifested  primarily  in  the  naivete  and  sublime  simplicity  which 
is  a  fundamental  trait  of  real  genius :  it  also  shows  itself  in  various 
other  ways ;  so  that  a  certain  childishness  indubitably  is  one  of 
the  characteristics  of  genius.  In  Riemer^s  communication  regard- 
ing Goethe  it  is  stated  that  Herder  and  others  blamed  Goethe  for 
having  always  been  a  big  child :  ^  they  were  right  in  their  assertion, 
but  wrong  in  blaming  him.  Of  Mozart  also  it  is  said  that  he 
remained  a  child  all  his  life.  Schlichtegroll's  Nekrolog  says  of 
him :  *  In  his  art  he  became  a  man  at  an  early  age ;  but  in  all  other 
respects  he  always  remained  a  child.  ...  A  man  who  does  not 
practically  remain  a  big  child  as  long  as  he  lives  may  be  a  very 
useful  and  estimable  citizen  of  the  world,  but  never  a  genius.** 

When  Bichard  Wagner  was  seven  years  old  his  step- 
father wrote  a  letter  to  Uncle  Albert  in  which  he  com- 
plained that  the  boy  left  the  seat  of  a  pair  of  trousers 
hanging  on  a  fence  every  day.  We  have  seen  how  he 
used  to  terrify  his  mother  by  jumping  down  stairs,  slid- 

1  One  of  his  pranks  was  to  stand  in  the  market-place  at  Weimar  with 
the  Duke,  cracking  whips,  and  scandalizing  the  Philistines  by  his  mi- 
dignified  behavior.  Byron's  childish  actions,  and  the  charfM  of  insan* 
ity  based  on  them  by  Philistines,  are  weU  known. 


20b  POLITICAL  ASD  FERSOlfAL 

ing  down  the  banisters,  and  perpetrating  other  daring 
acrobatic  feats;  and  how  he  climbed  to  the  roof  of  the 
schoolhouse  after  his  playmate's  cap.  Herein,  too,  the 
boy  was  father  to  the  man.  Praeger  relates  two  oharac- 
teristic  anecdotes  Apropos:  — 

"  I  remeiober  full  veil  one  day,  nlieo  we  were  sitting  together 
In  Ihe  drawiiig-rcKim  at  Ttiebschen  (1871),  on  a  sort  o(  ottoman, 
talking  over  tLe  events  of  the  years  gone  by,  when  he  auddenlj 
rose  and  atood  oo  his  head  on  the  ottoman.  At  the  very  moment 
he  WHS  in  that  inverted  position  the  door  opened,  and  Madame 
Witgner  entered.  Her  eurprise  and  alarm  were  great,  and  she 
hastened  forwant,  exclaiming,  ■  Ach  1  lieber  Richard  I  Ricbanl  I ' 
Quickly  recoverinK  himself,  be  reaasured  her  of  hU  sanity,  eipiain- 
ing  that  ho  waa  only  ehoning  Ferdinand  he  could  sland  on  hia  head 
at  sixty,  which  naa  more  than  the  said  Ferdinand  could  do." 

On  a  previous  oceasion,  when  Praeger  risited  Wag- 
ner at  Ztirich,  he  was  taken  on  an  excursion  to  the  falls 

of  the  Ehine.  They  spent  the  night  in  the  hotel,  and 
breakfast  was  to  be  in  the  garden,  but  when  the  hour 
arrived  Wagner  was  nowhere  to  be  found.  At  last  shouts 
were  heard  from  a  height.  Wagner  had  mounted  on 
the  back  of  a  plaster  lion  placed  at  a  giddy  height;  "And 
how  he  came  down!  The  recklessness  of  a  schoolboy 
was  iu  all  his  movements.  We  were  in  fear;  he  laughed 
heartily,  saying  he  had  gone  up  there  to  get  an  appetite 
for  breakfast." 

Judith  Gautier  gives  us  a  pleasant  glimpse  of  this 
same  trait,  in  her  souvenirs  of  Triebsehen:  — 

"  One  of  the  most  remarkable  things  about  Wagner  is  the 
youtliful  gaiety  which  so  frequently  breaks  out,  and  the  charm- 
ing good  humor  which  his  tormented  life  has  never  been  able 
to  quench,    Uia  entertaining  and    profound   conversation   will 


PLATFtrLltSSa  AND  EVMOR  207 

become  all  M  once,  wiUumt  tnuudtloii,  Ml  ol  humor  and  ImagliW' 
tion.  He  tellB  itories  In  the  moat  comical  manner,  with  a  fine 
irony  which  belongs  to  him  alone.  At  Lucerne  he  auiprlsed  mo 
by  hla  iklll  in  bodily  exercises  and  by  his  slngolar  aglUty.  Be 
climbed  the  highest  trees  In  his  garden,  to  the  terror  of  hU  wife, 
who  besought  me  not  to  look  at  him,  because,  she  said,  U  he  were 
encouraged  he  would  commit  no  end  of  follies." 

Wolzogen  relates  that  one  day  at  the  Villa  Wahnfried, 
when  Liszt  had  been  playing  as  only  he  could  play,  and 
erei;  one  present  was  deeply  moved,  Wagner  saddenly 
got  CHI  his  knees  and  hands,  crawled  up  to  the  pianist, 
and  exclaimed:  "Fianz,  to  you  people  should  come  only 
on  all  fonts  [" 

This  playfulness  also  shows  itself  in  the  droll  jokes 
he  is  always  perpetrating  in  his  letters,  especially  in  the 
apostrophes  and  signatures.  He  is  constantly  vaiying 
the  monotony  of  "My  Deai  Friend"  and  that  sort  of 
thing  by  such  allocutions  as  "  theatre-music-fiddllng- 
fellow";  " dearest  friend,  brother  and  regisseui"}  "kind 
old  sinner";  "0  you  most  excellent  fellow,  man, 
brother,  friend,  chorus-director,  and  music-copyist " ;  "  O 
you  wicked  fellow  ";  "Oh  you  good,  fatherly  brother  "; 
"much-tortured  chamber-musician";  " HeTrgottatauaend- 
aakramenter" ;  "Oh  you  bad  man  (Aomo  maliu)";  "0 
you  man,  &omo  terribUu  (Lin.  II.  63)  ";  "Sancte  Fran- 
ziscel  Ora  pro  nobisi"  "Hi-ha-Heine  ";  "Heinemto- 
nel";  "dear  old  j)!ay-fellow  "  (to  punning  Wagner  was 
almost  as  much  addicted  as  Beethoven).  More  of  these 
playfn]  things  are  addressed  to  Fischer  than  to  Uhlig; 
perhaps  Wagner  had  not  forgotten  that  Uhlig  took  the 
broad  sarcasm  of  letter  No.  10,  in  which  he  described  his 
happiness  in  Paris,  and  admiration  for  Meyerbeer,  for  a 


208  POLITICAL  AH1>  PSnsOSAL 

sober  statement  of  facta.  The  close  of  this  letter  illua- 
trates  another  form  of  Wagnei'a  epiatolaiy  drollery.  It 
ends  in  this  wise;  — 

"  To  my  joy,  some  one  is  pUying  the  piano  overhead ;  bat  do 
melody,  only  accomptutiment,  which  has  a  charm  for  me  in  tliat  I 
can  pmctiBB  myself  in  the  art  of  (Inding  melodies  —  Adieu  1  Bon 
jour  t  Comment  voua  portez-vous  ?  AgrCez  I'aHSurance  de  la 
plus  baute  conBtderation,  aveo  taquelle  j'al  rhonneur  d'etre  TOtre 
tout  dovoufi  M 


The  letter  is  signed  as  the  French  pronounced  his 
name  —  "Richard  Vanier."  In  other  letters  he  signs 
himself  "your  reformed  rake,"  "reformed  scamp,"  "your 
fussy  R.  W."  Even  illneaa  does  not  sober  him,  and  he 
must  pun  on  his  erysipelas;  "I  have  had  'rosea  '  on  my 
face  again;  but  still  mj  humor  will  not  turn  very  rosy." 
And  one  day  wlien  he  is  too  ill  to  get  np  lie  mites  a 
letter  to  Uhlig  in  telegraphic  style  beginning  vitb  this 
untranslatable  pun :  "  Dieser  Brief  wird  Dir  sehr  gelegen 
kommen,  denn  ich  schreibe  ihn  liegend."  He  coins 
new  verba  out  of  the  names  of  his  operas,  talks  of 
"etwas  vornibelungen";  tells  how  he  has  "getannhau- 
sert,"  and  "gelohengrint,"  "wir  walken  morgen  kfire," 
and  so  on.  When  he  gave  photographs  or  copies  of 
his  works  to  friends  he  usually  chose  some  humorous 
form  of  dedication. 

His  ready  wit  was  often  shown  at  rehearsals.  He 
found  that  a  joke  was  the  moat  effective  and  least  offen- 
sive way  of  correcting  a  mistake.  When  the  trombones 
once  played  too  loud  for  him,  at  a  rehearsal  of  Rienzx, 
he  remarked,  with  a  smile;  "Gentlemen,  if  I  mistake 
not,  we  are  in  Dresden,  and  not  marching  round  Jericho, 
where  your  ancestors,  strong  of  lung,  blew  down  the 


PLATFTTLl^ESS  AK1>  BtlMOM  209 

city  walls."  ^  A  propos  of  the  Mendelssohnian  fashion 
of  rattling  off  an  allegro  in  London,  he  remarked  that  evi- 
dently in  England,  "time  is  music."  The  very  "full" 
programmes  he  was  called  upon  to  conduct  in  London, 
coupled  with  the  cry  of  omnibus  conductors  "full  in- 
side," led  him  to  call  himself  the  "Conductor  of  the 
Philharmonic  Omnibus."  Praeger  relates  that  when 
quizzed  about  his  ridiculously  clumsy  fingering  at  the 
piano,  "he  would  reply  with  characteristic  waggishness, 
'I  play  a  great  deal  better  than  Berlioz,'  who^  it  should 
be  stated,  could  not  play  at  all." 

At  Ziirich  it  was  his  habit,  if  he  got  up  first,  to  sit 
dpwn  at  the  piano  and  wake  his  wife  by  playing,  with 
strange  harmonies,  "Gtet  up,  get  up,  thou  merry  Swiss 
boy."  Sometimes  he  would  take  up  a  Leipzig  paper, 
just  arrived,  and  paralyze  his  wife  by  reading  to  her, 
with  the  most  sober  mien  in  the  world,  astounding  bits 
of  news,  till  the  manifest  exaggeration  betrayed  him. 
Even  in  the  darkest  hour  of  his  life,  when  he  fled  to 
Stuttgart  in  fear  of  his  pursuing  creditors,  his  sense  of 
humor  was  not  subdued.  On  the  evening  before  his 
departure  he  went  once  more  to  the  village  barber,  and 
after  he  had  been  shaved  he  said,  "  Yes,  my  friend,  it's 
no  use,  I  must  go;  you  are  altogether  too  exorbitant." 
The  poor  man  took  this  seriously  and  begged  him  not  to 
go  on  that  account^  as  he  was  willing  to  shave  him  for 
less.     Fran  Wille,  who  tells  this  anecdote,  and  who  had 

1  Hr.  Sachleben,  one  of  Bfr.  Theodore  Thomas's  yiolonoeUists,  remem- 
bers some  characteristic  utterances  of  Wagner's  at  a  Hamburg  rehearsal 
for  a  Bayreuth  benefit  concert.  With  pathetic  drollery  Wagner  found 
fault  with  Hamburg  for  having  so  many  fine,  large  buildings  but  not  a 
single — bass-clarinet  I  He  was  standing  near  the  edge  of  the  platform 
and  some  one  warned  him  lest  he  might  fall.  **  That's  aU  right,"  he 
y>«i^ii«^ ;  «•  I  couldn't  help  falling  on  a  Jew  in  thii  plaoo." 


210 


POLITICAL  AND  PERSONAL 


frequeut  opportunity  to  note  tlie  humorous,  sarcastic, 
and  playful  inoods  of  her  guest,  quotes  the  apt  re- 
marks of  an  English  writer  tliat  "there  is  nothing  so 
pleasant  as  the  nonseoae  of  men  of  genius;  but  no  fool 
should  be  present." 


WAGNER'S  ONLY  COMIC  OPERA 

FIB8T  HEISTEBSINGEB  PEBFOBMANOE 

The  anecdotes  of  the  last  pages  form  a  natural  bridge 
which  takes  ns  back  to  our  narrative.  The  great  event 
now  to  be  considered  is  the  first  performance  of  Wag- 
ner's only  comic  opera.  The  Maateraingers  of  Nuremberg, 
Although  he  once  refers  to  his  Siegfried  poem  as  a 
''comic-opera-text/' and  although  that  drama  has  not 
a  few  comic  features,  especially  in  the  first  act;  yet,  as  a 
whole,  one  would  hardly  class  it  as  a  humorous  work; 
at  any  rate,  it  is  in  Die  Meisterainger  that  his  playful 
and  humorous  traits  are  chiefly  exemplified.  But  before 
describing  this  opera  a  few  events  that  happened  in 
Munich  previous  to  its  performance  must  be  briefly 
related. 

In  the  last  of  the  letters  to  Heine,  dated  Munich, 
March  28,  1868,  Wagner  invites  his  old  friend  to  the 
impending  performances  of  the  Meistersinger,  offering  to 
pay  the  cost  of  the  expedition.  He  explains  that  he  is 
still  living  in  Lucerne,  where  he  has  a  home  in  the  most 
absolute  stillness  and  retirement;  adding,  in  regard  to 
Munich:  ''Here  I  am  only  en  visite,  and  I  run  off  the 
moment  the  'entertainment '  and  'distraction '  become  too 
much  for  me." 

One  of  these  visits  was  made  in  March,  1867,  for  the 

Sll 


212  WAQNES'S  OSLT  COMIC  OPEBA 

purpose  of  arranging  foi  a  model  performance  of  Loken- 
grin;  but  even  ou  this  occasion  he  did  not  reside  in  tlie 
city,  but  remained  for  a  few  months  in  his  former  villa 
at  Lake  Staruberg.  Loltengrin  was  to  be  for  the  first 
time  given  absolutely  without  cuts,  and  with  the  beat 
obtainable  east.  Betz  came  from  Berlin,  Frau  Mayr 
from  Nuremberg,  Tichatschek  from  Dresden;  Frl.  Mal- 
linger  was  the  Elsa.  Rehearsals  were  held  as  if  the 
opera  had  never  before  been  given  in  Munich.  BCilow, 
who  had  been  temporarily  reinstated  (and  to  whom  the 
King  had  written  a  flattering  letter  in  the  preceding  year, 
regretting  that  he  had  been  led  to  give  up  hia  place  by 
the  calumnious  newspaper  attacks),  worked  ten  hours  a 
day  at  these  rehearsals,  and  rumor  said  that  he  even 
slept  in  the  theatre.  Everything  promised  well,  but 
Wagner,  of  course,  was  fated  not  to  enjoy  the  result. 
This  time,  strange  to  say,  the  disturbance  came  from 
the  King  himself.  As  Wag:ner  relates,  in  a  letter  to 
Fraeger ; — 

"Tichatschek  had  displeaaed  bim,  and  he  asserted  he  would 
never  again  attend  a  performaitce  or  rehearsal  in  nhich  tbitt  singer 
took  part.  As  Uiis  dislike  referred  only  lo  the  stiff  acting  of 
Tichatscbek  (for  he  had  sung  splendidly),  I  felt  that  the  King's 
enthusiasm  inclined  to  the  spectacular,  and  where  this  was  defec- 
tive, !ie  could  not  elsewhere  find  compensation.  But  now  comeB 
the  outrage.  Without  consulting  me,  he  ordered  Tichatschek  and 
the  Ortrud  to  be  sent  away.  I  was,  and  am,  furious,  and  forthwith 
mean  to  quit  Munich." 

In  place  of  the  two  artists  thus  dismissed,  two  young 
singers  who  subsequently  won  so  much  fame  in  Wagne- 
rian rSles,  Herr  Vogl  and  Frl.  Thoma  (\a.teT  Frau  Vogl), 
made  their  appearance,  consequently  the  opera  did  not 


I 


FIB8T  MEI8TEB8INQEB  PEBFOBMANCE     213 

suffer.  It  was  received  with  much  enthusiasm,  bat 
when  Wagner  had  left,  bhe  old  cuts  were  restored.  The 
public  was  not  yet  ripe  for  a  complete  Lohengrin;  in- 
deed, no  less  an  authority  than  Albert  Niemann  had 
once  asserted  that  Lohengrin  without  cuts  was  impossi- 
ble! The  King's  action  in  changing  the  cast  gave  rise 
to  all  sorts  of  rumors.  Wagner's  own  explanation  is 
probably  the  correct  one:  — 

'*  The  erUouragt  of  the  King  seemed  to  have  coDceiyed  a  thor- 
ough dislike  to  Tichatschek.  But  what  is  more  trae,  they  were,  I 
am  conyinced,  desirous  of  preyenting  my  appearing  with  the  King, 
because  they  feared  a  demonstration." 

The  composer  returned  to  Triebschen,  where  he  com- 
pleted the  Meistersinger  score  in  October.  In  more  than 
one  respect  he  was  '^  in  clover  "  at  that  time.  Not  only 
was  the  King  willing  and  eager  to  have  the  new  opera 
produced  at  once,  but  its  author  numbered  among  his 
assistants  three  of  the  most  capable  musicians  of  the 
century.  Hans  Bichter,  who  had  copied  the  score  at 
Triebschen,  was  appointed  chorus-master,  Hans  von 
Bfilow  conducted,  and  Karl  Tausig  arranged  the  full 
score  for  piano,  a  task  which  he  accomplished  as  satis- 
factorily as  Btilow  had  in  the  case  of  Tristan.  It  was 
not  practicable  to  produce  the  new  opera  in  the  year  of 
its  completion,  but  Hans  Richter  set  to  work  at  once 
teaching  his  singers  the  difficult  and  important  choruses. 
His  conscientiousness  and  thoroughness  may  be  inferred 
from  this,  that  no  fewer  than  sixty-six  chorus  rehearsals 
were  held  before  the  first  performance.  A  slight  in- 
crease in  salary,  combined  with  a  growing  enthusiasm 
for  the  music,  made  the  singers  willingly  submit  to 


214  WAGNEB'S  OJiLT  COMIC  OPEBA 

this  unprecedented  demand  on  their  time.  In  his  own 
sphere,  BCilow  was  no  less  energetic.  The  orchestra 
was  enlarged  to  eighty  men,  some  of  the  older  players 
temporarily  replaced  by  younger  ones;  and  although  the 
remark  was  made  by  one  in  authority  regarding  Wagner 
and  Bfilow  that  "to  these  two  it  does  not  make  the 
slightest  difference  if  they  are  obliged  to  pass  over  corpses 
to  reach  their  goal,"  no  fiddler  or  blower  is  known  to 
have  committed  melodic  or  harmonic  suicide  on  this 
occasion;  nor  was  the  score  murdered;  on  the  contrary, 
when  it  came  to  the  point  of  attack,  these  musicians 
played  as  they  had  never  played  before.  Chorus  and 
orchestra.  Indeed,  were  the  most  perfect  factors  at  the 
first  representations. 

An  interesting  and  detailed  description  of  incidents 
connected  with  these  rehearsals  may  be  found  in  Nohl's 
Neuea  Skizzenbuch  (350-385).  A  few  points  only  can  be 
noted  here.  BUlow,  unlike  his  conservative  and  indo- 
lent predecessor,  Lachner,  always  stood  up  to  conduct. 
Wa^er  was  omnipresent.  In  this  opera,  in  which 
"every  step,  every  nod  of  the  head,  every  gesture  of 
the  arms,  every  opening  of  the  door,  is  musically  illus- 
trated," it  was  of  supreme  importance  that  a  correct 
tratlition  should  be  established,  and  the  Master  did  his 
best  in  this  direction  by  accompanying  every  bar  with 
the  appropriate  gestures,  which  the  singers  endeavored 
to  copy — endeavored,  witliout  always  succeeding;  for 
Wagner  was  a  wonderful  actor,  and  if  he  had  had  more 
voice  he  would  have  been  an  interpreter  of  his  own 
works  such  as  the  world  has  never  seen.  Nohl  specially 
notes  one  detail;  "He  showed  Beckmesser  at  the  point 
where  he  is  finally  driven  frantic  by  Sachs's  persistent 


FIB8T  MEISTER8INQEB  PERFORMANCE     216 

singing  and  hammering,  how  he  must  suddenly  rush  at 
the  'malicious  and  insolent '  cobbler:  it  was  a  positively 
tiger-like,  quivering  jump  which  Hdlzl  had  trouble  to 
imitate  even  jmrtially."  Besides  Holzl,  the  cast  in- 
cluded Betz,  Nachbaur,  Schlosser,  Mallinger,  and  Diez 
in  the  r61es  of  Sachs,  Walter,  David,  Eva,  and  Magda- 
lena  respectively.  Of  these  singers,  Mallinger  required 
least  interference  on  Wagner's  part.  A  Viennese  feu- 
illetonist, in  describing  the  rehearsals,  says :  — 

**  Only  when  Frftolein  Mallinger  sings,  does  Wagner  pause  occa- 
sionally in  his  directions ;  he  listens  with  evident  pleasure,  then 
walks  up  and  down  the  stage  with  short  steps,  one  hand  in  his 
trousers'  pocket,  and  finally  sits  down  on  the  chair  beside  the 
prompter's  box,  nodding  his  head  in  a  satisfied  and  pleased  way, 
and  smiling  all  over  his  face.  But  if  anything  in  the  orchestra 
displeases  him,  which  happens  not  infrequently,  he  jumps  up  as  if 
a  snake  had  bitten  him,  claps  his  hands,  and  calls  to  the  orchestra, 
after  Bttlow  has  rapped  for  silence :  *  Piano,  gentlemen,  piano  t 
That  must  be  played  softly,  softly,  softly,  as  if  it  came  to  us  from 
another  world  1  *  And  the  orchestra  begins  again.  *  More  softly 
still,*  cries  Wagner,  with  an  appropriate  gesture ;  —  so,  sOy  so,  gut, 
gut,  gut,  9ehr  schone.^ ''  ^ 

Among  the  notabilities  who  were  present  during 
the  rehearsals  were  Dingelstedt,  Hfilsen,  Esser,  Eck- 
ert,  Pasdeloup,  Kalliwoda,  Niemann,  Tichatschek, 
Kirchner,  Tausig,  Pauline  Viardot  Garcia,  Turgenieff, 
Schott,  Pohl,  Hanslick,  G.  Engel,  etc.  In  the  audito- 
rium there  were  also  some  well-known  artists  who  were 
to  judge  if  the  45,000  florins  expended  on  the  scenery 
had  been  well  utilized.  After  the  last  rehearsal  the 
composer  delivered  an  address  of  thanks  to  the  artists, 

1  The  reference  is  to  Eva's  words  (Act  in J«  "  Einer  weiie  mUd  nnd 
hehr." 


216  WAONER'S  ONLY  COMIC  OPEBA 

embracing  several  of  them,  while  some  of  tho  singers 
crowded  around  to  kisa  hia  arm  or  shoulder.  Turning 
finally  to  the  orchestra,  he  said :  "  To  you  1  have  nothing 
further  to  say.  We  are  German  musicians;  we  under- 
stand each  other  without  words."  Whereat,  a  joyous 
oom  motion. 

The  first  performance  was  on  June  21,  1868.  It  began 
at  5.30  and  lasted  four  hours  and  forty  minutes,  includ- 
ing intermissions.'  The  house  was  crowded  from  pit  to 
gallery,  and  the  King  was  in  his  box,  to  which  he  had 
invited  Wagner.  It  was  a  foregone  conclusion  that  a 
new  work  like  the  Meiaterainger,  in  such  a  performance, 
before  such  an  audience,  would  meet  with  a  most  cordial 
reception.  The  principal  numbers  were  lustily  ap- 
plauded, and  at  the  end  of  the  first  act  the  calls  for  the 
composer  would  not  cease.  Wagner  always  disliked 
showing  himself  to  the  public.  But  on  this  occasion  he 
could  not  withdraw,  and,  at  a  hint  from  the  King,  he 
got  up  and  bowed.  This  had  the  effect  of  redoubling 
the  applause;  hut  the  act  itself  —  a  "commoner"  bow- 
ing from  the  King's  box  —  was  regarded  by  members  of 
the  old  "  aristocracy  "  as  a  dreadful  breach  of  etiquette. 
A  North  German  paper,  instead!  of  rejoicing  that  a  King 
had  been  great  enough  to  recognize  the  royalty  of  Genius, 
thus  commented  on  this  episode;  "The  self-assertion, 
the  contempt  for  public  opinion,  shown  by  thus  bowing 

1  Tlie  masic  \tae\t  lasted  four  boura  and  tbree  minutes :  first  set,  one 
hour  seventeeii  minutcH;  second,  fl[ty-fii-e  minutes;  third,  one  hour 
fifty-one  minutes,  according  to  B.  Folil,  who  eives  these  eiact  dais  to 
refute  the  charges  of  "  ejcesgive  length."  Although  these  lengths  are 
official,  it  must  be  remembered  that  repetition  makes  Wagner-perform- 
ances more  and  more  i^ompact.  Mr.  Seidl.  who  is  secood  to  none  as 
a  Wagoer  lulerpreter.  has  repeatedly  conducted  this  opera  (In  New 
York)  in  a  little  OTer  tbree  hours  and  a  lutlt  wltb  very  law  Miloni  cnU- 


8T0BT  OF  THE  MA8TEB8INGSB8  217 

from  the  so-called  Kai9eriogej  docs  not  redound  to  the 
honor  either  of  Wagner  or  of  art!''  But  apart  from 
this  petty  incident,  the  Meisteninger  premUre  was  the 
most  joyful  event,  the  most  brilliant  success,  of  Wag- 
ner's whole  career.  A  number  of  repetitions  followed, 
and  most  of  the  operatic  managers  from  other  cities  at 
once  made  arrangements  for  acquiring  the  right  to  repro- 
duce the  novelty. 

8TOBY  OF  THE  MASTBB8IKGSBS 

In  the  twelfth  and  thirteenth  centuries  poetiy  and  song 
in  Europe  were  in  the  hands  of  the  Troubadours  in  Pro- 
vence and  the  Minnesingers  in  Germany.     They  were 
chiefly  knights  and  other  noblemen,  kings  and  princes 
even  being  found  among  their  numbers.    But  in  course 
of  time  the  higher  classes  lost  their  interest  in  such 
pursuits,  and  the  cultivation  of  poetiy  and  song  was 
taken  up  by  the  artisans  in  the  towns, —  the  tailors, 
weavers,  shoemakers,  and  other  Meister,  or  "  bosses,"  who 
formed  societies    and    fostered    the    Meistergesang,    in 
accordance  with  a  large  number  of  fixed,  conventional 
rules  of  amazing  complexity  and  artificiality.     One  of 
the  chief  seats  of  these  Mastersingers  was  Nuremberg, 
which,  at  the  time  of  the  immortal 

Hans  Sachs  shoe- 
Maker  and  poet  too, 

in  the  middle  of  the  sixteenth  century  had  more  than 

two  hundred  and  fifty  of  them.     Into  this  picturesque 

mediaeval  circle  Wagner  introduces  us  in  his  comic  opera. 

Act  I.    The  curtain  rises  on  a  scene  representing  the 


218  WAGNES'S  ONLY  COMIC  OPERA 

interior  of  the  St.  Catharine's  Church  in  Kutemberg. 
The  congregation  is  just  engaged  in  singing,  to  the 
accompajiinient  of  organ,  the  last  stanza  of  a  stately 
choral.  In  one  of  the  last  rows  of  benches  is  seated  Eva, 
daughter  of  Pogner,  the  wealthy  goldsmith.  Her  devo- 
tion is  sadly  disturbed  by  the  young  knight,  WaJther 
von  Stolzing,  who  is  leaning  against  a  neighboring  pil- 
lar, and  whose  admiring  glances  and  gestures  she  does 
not  at  all  discourage.  As  the  congregation  leaves,  he 
finds  an  opportunity  to  speak  to  her,  the  chaperon  Mag- 
dalena  having  been  sent  ba«k  after  Eva's  handkerchief. 
Without  many  preliminaries,  the  knight  confesses  his 
love,  but  hears  to  his  consternation  that  Eva  is  practi- 
cally betrothed ;  for  on  the  morrow  she  is  to  be  bestowed 
on  the  Meistersinger  who  shall,  with  his  song,  win  the 
prize  at  the  festival.  However,  Eva  (who,  like  all  of 
Wagner's  heroines,  loves  as  frankly  as  tTuliet)  gives  him 
a  hint  that,  happen  what  may,  she  will  bestow  the  prize 
on  him  or  on  no  one,  and  leaves  with  her  chaperon; 
while  Walther  remains  watching  the  preparations  which 
are  being  made  for  an  assembly  of  the  Mastersingers. 
Pending  their  arrival  he  gets  David,  the  mischievous 
apprentice  of  Hans  Sachs,  to  initiate  him  into  the  mys- 
teries and  rules  of  the  musical  code  or  "  tablature  "  of 
those  artisan-artists ;  for  he  has  made  up  his  mind  to 
become  a  Meisler  too,  since  only  a  Meister  can  sue  for 
Eva's  hand.  David  proceeds  to  tell  him  at  great  length 
how  he  must  master  the  rules  of  the  tablature  with  all 
its  prohibitions,  and  pass  through  the  successive  stages 
of  "scholar,"  "schoolman,"  and  "poet,"  before  he  can 
aspire  to  be  a  "mastersinger,"  that  is,  one  who  can  set  to 
music  his  own  verses.     Walther  decides  to  try  for  the 


8TOBT  OF  THE  MASTEBSUfGEMS  219 


^Meister"  degree  at  onoey  which  sablime  eonfidenee 
causes  David  to  exclaim,  ^O  Lena!  O  Magdalena!  ^ 

The  Mastersingeis  arriTe  at  last,  to  the  stnins  of  a 
pompons  march,  in  groaps  of  two  and  three.  The  roll 
is  called,  and  Pogner  annoonoes  what  Walther  had 
already  heard  from  Eva.  The  knight  now  steps  for- 
ward and  begs  to  be  examined  for  admission  into  the 
worthy  society;  much  to  the  disgust  of  one  of  their 
number,  Beckmesser,  an  old,  nghr,  ooooeited,  and  disa- 
greeable character,  who  turns  out  to  be  his  rival  for  the 
prize  and,  what  is  worse,  the  critic^  or  marker,  who  Is 
to  chalk  down  his  errors.  To  prore  his  fitness  for  the 
desired  honor  Walther  is  required  to  sing  a  new  son^ 
in  which,  if  he  deriates  more  than  seren  times  from  the 
thirty-three  rules  of  the  tablatnre,  he  has  vermngen^  or, 
to  use  an  Americanism,  is  Splayed  out.''  A  chair  is 
placed  for  him  on  one  side,  while  Beckmesser  takes  his 
stand  behind  a  screen,  where  he  is  to  note  down  on  a 
blackboard  every  violation  of  the  roles.  Walther  f  ings 
of  nature,  love,  and  women,  but  long  before  his  delight- 
ful song  is  finished,  Beckmesser,  who  has  all  the  time 
been  scratching  away  audibly,  rushes  out  angrily  and 
holds  up  the  board,  all  covered  with  marks.  The  Mas- 
ters agree  with  him  as  to  the  knight's  complete  fiasco: 
his  song  is  voted  contrary  to  all  traditional  forms  and 
usages, —  no  cadences,  no  vocal  embellishments,  and  "of 
melody  not  a  trace.''  Hans  Sachs  alone  interposes  in  his 
favor.  He  finds  the  song  "new,  yet  not  confused,''  and 
cautions  his  colleagues  not  to  measure  by  their  own  rules 
that  of  which  they  have  not  yet  discovered  the  rules. 
But,  in  spite  of  this,  the  Masters  decide  that  Walther 
has  outsung  himself. 


r 


220  WAGNKB'S   OyLY  COMIC   OPERA 

Act  II.  Characteristic  narrow  street  in  old  Nurem- 
berg, smelling  of  feudal  times  and  limiting  city-walls. 
To  the  left  the  humble  house  of  Hana  Sachs,  to  the 
right  the  more  elegant  mansion  of  Pogner.  We  see  and 
hear  first  a  score  of  frolicsome  apprentices  making  fun 
of  David,  who  has  been  discovered  to  be  in  love  with 
Magdalena,  Eva  has  heard  that  Walther'a  song  waa 
adjudged  a  failure.  She  visits  Sachs  for  confirmation  of 
this  report.  Widower  Sachs  really  has  a  tender  feeling 
for  Eva  too,  but  knows  how  to  repress  it.  By  appar- 
ently abusing  the  knight:  "Be  a  friend  still  of  him  be- 
fore whom  we  all  felt  so  small?  "  he  provokes  Eva's  angry 
resentment  and  thus  discovers,  what  he  had  before  sus- 
pected, that  she  is  in  love,  Eva  returns  and  meets  her 
lover,  who,  after  a  passionate  greeting,  bitterly  de- 
nounces the  narrow-minded  Masters,  and  then  proposes 
an  elopement :  the  horses  are  already  waiting  in  front 
of  the  city-gates.  But  Sachs  has  overheard  their  rash 
project  and  frustrates  their  departure  by  opening  his 
shutter  and  throwing  a  strong  liglit  on  the  street.  The 
lovers  retire  behind  the  bushes  in  front  of  Pogner's 
house.  While  they  are  waiting,  that  grotesque  institu- 
tion of  the  middle  ages  (still  surviving  in  some  small 
German  towns),  the  night-watchman,  comes  up  the 
street,  with  his  spear  and  lantern,  blowing  his  ox-horn, 
and  proclaiming  the  hour  of  the  night.  This  danger 
past,  a  more  serious  one  presents  itself.  Beckmesser, 
who  had  announced  his  intention  to  serenade  Eva  (to 
meet  which  contingency  Magdalena  had  been  requested 
to  don  Eva's  clothes  and  appear  in  the  window),  comes 
along  to  begin  operations.  To  his  infinite  disgust,  Sachs, 
who  still  has  an  eye  on  the  fugitive  lovers,  at  this 


8T0Sr  OF  THE  MA8TEB8INGEB8  221 

moment  carries  his  work-bench  in  front  of  the  house  and 
begins  to  hammer  away  and  sing  a  jovial  song  about  Eve, 
and  how  she  suffered  with  her  bare  feet,  after  expulsion, 
till  the  Lord  had  his  angel  make  shoes  for  her.  The 
suspicious  knight  does  not  quite  catch  the  drift  of  the 
song  and  thinks  that  his  Eva  is  being  made  fun  of,  but 
she  pacifies  him  by  pointing  out  that  the  reference  is  to 
another  Eve.  Beckmesser  is  more  angry  still;  he  en- 
treats, commands  Sachs  to  stop,  begins  his  serenade 
several  times;  but  Sachs  persists  in  hammering  away  at 
the  shoes  —  Beckmesser 's  shoes;  for  had  not  Beckmes- 
ser sneered  at  him  in  the  morning  for  neglecting  his 
work  over  his  poetry?  The  shoes  must  be  finished  for 
to-morrow,  and  he  begs  Beckmesser  to  proceed,  telling 
him  he  will  ''mark"  his  faults  on  the  soles  with  his 
hammer  even  as  he  had  chalked  down  the  knight's  faults 
on  the  blackboard.  Beckmesser  finally  decides  to  pay 
no  more  attention  to  the  cobbler,  but  proceeds  with  his 
ludicrous  serenade,  with  its  old-fashioned  vocal  orna- 
ments and  turns  and  twists,  to  the  twangy  accompani- 
ment of  his  lute.  The  song,  combined  with  Sachs's 
hammering,  finally  arouses  the  neighbors  from  tlieir 
slumbers.  David  comes  out,  and  recognizing  the  dis- 
guised Magdalena  looking  out  of  the  window  to  which 
Beckmesser's  song  is  directed,  he  attacks  the  musician 
and  beats  him  unmercifully.  The  street  is  soon  filled  with 
apprentices  and  workmen  of  all  trades,  who  take  sides  in 
the  quarrel.  The  noise  is  increased  by  the  cries  of  the 
women,  who  are  looking  out  of  the  windows  on  the 
riotous  scene  below.  Suddenly  the  horn  of  the  watch- 
man is  heard,  and  in  a  moment  the  crowd  has  dispersed. 
The  sudden  contrast  is  most  amusing,  as  the  watchman 


222  WAOyER'S  ONLY  COMIC  OPERA 

comes  slowly  down  the  street,  blowing  his  immense  ox- 
born,  and  solemnly  proclaiming  the  eleventh  hour.  The 
curtain  drgps  on  an  act  which  abounds  in  genuine  humor, 
grotesque  effects,  and  telling  sarcasm. 

Act  III.  A  deeply  meditative  spirit  pervades  tlie  in- 
troduction to  the  last  act.  Hans  Sachs  sits  in  his  room, 
reading  a  large  folio  and  engaged  in  pessimistic  reflec- 
tions on  past  events.  He  is  interrupted  by  David,  who 
comes  to  congratulate  him  on  his  birthday,  sings  his 
apprentice  soug  about  St.  John  on  the  banks  of  the 
Jordan,  advises  his  master  to  marry  again,  and  leaves, 
glad  not  to  be  taken  to  task  for  his  pugnacious  conduct 
of  the  preceding  night.  Walther  now  enters  and  tells 
Sachs  a  wonderful  dream  which  he  had  during  the  uight 
—  Waltber's  melodious  prize-song.  Sachs  carefully 
notes  it  down  on  a  slip  of  paper.  Thus,  from  an  unex- 
pected quarter,  is  the  knight  equipped  for  the  coming 
contest.  After  they  have  gone  to  prepare  for  the  festi- 
val, Beckmesser  enters,  finds  the  paper  lying  on  the 
table,  and  quickly  puts  it  in  his  pocket.  A  new  song  by 
Sachs!  There  is  time  left  for  him  to  learn  it,  and  with 
it  he  must  surely  win  the  prize.  Sachs  returns,  discov- 
ers the  theft,  but  tells  Beckmesser  he  may  keep  the 
poem  and  use  it.  The  latter  rushes  out,  wild  with  joy. 
Eva  enters,  richly  dressed  in  white.  One  of  her  shoes 
does  not  quite  fit.  While  Sachs  makes  it  right,  Walther 
returns,  and  dazzled  by  the  beauty  of  his  expected  bride, 
addresses  to  her  a  verse  of  his  song.  David  and  Magda- 
lena  also  appear,  and  the  scene  ends  in  a  quintet. 

The  scene  changes  to  a  wide  meadow,  with  a  most 
imposing  view  of  the  whole  city  of  Nuremberg  in  the 
background.      Boats  on  the  river,   floral  decorations. 


8T0SY  OF  THE  MA8TEB8INQEBa  223 

men,  women,  and  children  in  festive  attire,  singing  and 
dancing.  A  chorus  of  shoemakers  sing  the  praises  of 
St.  Crispin,  who  stole  the  leather  from  the  rich  to  make 
shoes  for  the  poor;  the  tailors  tell  of  the  patriotic  feats 
of  one  of  their  number,  who  was  sewed  up  in  a  goat- 
skin, and,  by  frisking  about  on  the  city  wall,  induced 
the  enemy  to  raise  the  siege  in  despair.  The  bakers 
also  have  their  song.  At  last  the  Mastersingers  come 
marching  along  to  the  sounds  of  their  glorious  march. 
On  an  eminence  quickly  constructed  with  pieces  of  turf 
Beckmesser  now  takes  his  stand,  confused  and  trem- 
bling; but  his  ill-gotten  song  is  too  much  for  him.  His 
memory  fails  him,  and  he  is  obliged  (to  use  a  college 
phrase)  to  ''crib''  several  times  from  his  manuscript. 
Of  the  text  he  makes  the  most  ludicrous  nonsense,  and 
his  melody  is  a  capital  parody  of  an  obsolete  vocal  style 
with  its  bombastic  embellishments.  The  people  inter- 
rupt him  several  times  with  exclamations  of  surprise, 
and  finally  his  song  is  drowned  by  their  laughter  and 
cries  of  derision.  Enraged,  he  throws  the  manuscript 
on  the  ground,  and  exclaims  it  is  not  his  —  Hans  Sachs 
is  the  author.  Sachs  explains  that  the  poem  is  good, 
only  it  must  be  properly  rendered.  It  is  agreed  that  he 
who  can  sing  its  proper  melody  shall  receive  the  prize. 
Walther  steps  forward,  fulfils  these  conditions,  and 
wins  the  bride.  A  jubilant  outburst  of  full  orchestra 
and  chorus,  with  swinging  of  hats  and  handkerchiefs, 
follows,  and  the  curtain  drops  on  this  most  realistic  and 
lively  representation  of  a  QetmsjiVolksfest. 


WAQNSB-B  ONLY  COMIC  OPEBA 


THE  POEM   AND  THE  MUSIC 

Even  this  bare  outline  of  the  plot  miist  convince  the 
reader  that  never  has  there  been  written  a  comedy  more 
replete  with  merry  incidents  and  stirring  scenes  than 
the  Maslersingers  of  Nvremberg.  Aa  a  picture  of  medi- 
SBval  life  it  is  as  realistic,  accurate,  and  delightful  as 
the  beat  of  Scott's  novels.  Two  of  Wagner's  sources  of 
local  color,  in  incident  and  language,  were  Wagenseil's 
Nilmberger  Chronik  (1697)  and  the  works  of  the  prolific 
cobbler-poet  Hans  Sachs.  Lortzing'a  opera  of  Nana 
Sachs  may  have  su^ested  a  few  hints  for  tbe  love- 
story  ;  but  for  the  rest,  Die  JHeUtersiitger  is  his  own  crea- 
tion. And  what  a  creation!  /iiven  without  the  music  it 
would  make  a  most  amusing  play.  No  other  poem  gives 
a  better  idea  of  his  eminently  dramatic  genius,  of  hia 
wonderful  fertility  of  invention,  hia  keen  eye  for  theatri- 
cal effect,  the  only  serious  fault  being  a  tendency  to 
dwell  too  long  on  some  of  the  scenes;  a  tendency  which 
is  more  objectionable  in  comedy  than  in  tragedy.  Yet 
it  must  be  remembered  that  here,  as  in  all  of  Wagner's 
operas,  many  passages  that  seem  unduly  spun  out  do  not 
appear  so  if  the  singers  are  good  actors  and  bring  out 
all  the  points  of  the  pja^f^  Perhaps  the  best  proof  of 
the  greatness  of  this  poem  lies  in  the  numerous  lines  it 
contains  that  serve  for  apt  citations  in  everyday  situa- 
tions; many  of  these  will  find  their  way  into  the  diction- 
aries of  familiar  quotations. 

Instead  of  calling  this  Wagner's  only  comic  opera  it 
would  perhaps  be  more  accurate  to  call  it  satiric;  for 
it  is   not  comic  in  the  exact  sense  in  which  some  of 


THE  POEM  AND  THE  MUSIC  225 

Mozart's,  Rossini's,  and  Auber's  operas  are  comic.  The 
humor  is  essentially  German  and  Wagnerian  —  a  combi- 
nation of  playfulness,  exuberant  animal  spirits,  practi- 
cal jokes,  puns,  burlesque,  and  withal  an  undercurrent 
of  amiability,  seriousness,  passion,  and  even  sadness, 
as  in  all  great  humorous  literature.  Every  form  of 
humor  is  represented,  .the  lowest  as  well  as  the  highest; 
from  the  horse-play  accompanying  the  riot  scene,  the 
pun  on  Yogelgesang's  name,  and  the  broad  burlesque  of 
Beckmesser's  serenade,  to  the  more  subtle  persiflage  of 
Kothner's  address,  the  merry  mockery  of  the  appren- 
tices, the  quaint  spectacle  of  the  watchman,  the  chival- 
rous bluster  of  the  knight,  the  rollicking  cobbler  songs, 
and  the  subtle  satire  of  Sachs.  In  this  variety  of  humor, 
from  the  lowest  to  the  highest,  Wagner  resembles  Shake- 
speare. Yet  there  have  been  commentators  who  pro- 
tested they  could  not  see  anything  funny  in  this  opera. 
Quite  likely.  The  French  have  never  been  able  to  ap- 
preciate Shakespeare's  humor;  but  is  that  Shakespeare's 
fault?  There  is  a  national  taste  in  jokes  as  there  is  an 
individual  taste.  Qeorge  Eliot  has  said  that  '^  there  is 
no  greater  strain  on  the  affections  than  a  difference  of 
taste  in  jokes."  But  a  person  of  refinement  and  cosmo- 
politan culture  enjoys  humor  all  the  more  for  its  local 
color;  does  not  sneer  at  a  joke  because  it  is  French,  or 
English,  or  Crerman,  or  because  it  does  not  smell  of 
Paris  or  London  or  Berlin.  For  my  part,  I  have  not 
only  often  enjoyed  immensely  the  drolleries  and  the 
sarcasm  in  Die  Meistersinger,  but  I  have  heard  crowded 
audiences  in  New  York,  Berlin,  Munich,  and  Vienna 
laugh  so  loudly  over  its  fun  that  the  music  was  drowned 
for  the  moment. 


22tt  n-AOySH'S   ONLY  COMIC   OPERA 

What  makes  tlie  satire  in  Die  Meiateraiiiger  t)ie  more 
interesting,  is  the  fact  that  it  has  a  biogi'aphic  signifi- 
cance, Wagner  himaelf  was  fond  of  dwelling  in  his 
essays  (especially  in  the  Covimtinication  to  my  Friendt) 
on  the  personal  elements  that  entered  into  his  operas. 
In  the  case  of  his  comic  opera  one  mu3t  be  very  obtuae 
indeed  not  to  bo  able  to  read  between  the  lines  —  and  in 
them  —  that  it  is  a  musical  autobiography,  just  as  hia 
Parisian  novelettes  described  his  own  feelings  and  trials 
in  the  guise  of  fiction.  Of  course,  Wagner  was  too 
much  of  an  artist  to  mar  his  drama  by  too  minute  etab- 
oratiou  of  this  biographic  element;  but  in  a  general  way 
it  may  be  said  that  Walther,  with  his  novel  melodic 
form,  which  violates  the  pedantic  rules  of  the  Master- 
singers  (tune-form),  repreBeots  the  "music  of  the  future"; 
Beckmesser  embodies  the  ignorant,  malicious,  and  n&r- 
row-minded  critics  who  can  see  no  good  in  aoythlng 
that  is  new  in  art;  and  the  poet,  Hans  Sachs,  represents 
enlightened  public  opinion,  always  ready  to  appreciate  a 
genius  in  advance  of  bis  professional  colleagues.  Hans 
Sachs  is  the  most  delightful  character  in  the  whole  range 
of  operatic  literature.  His  speeches  are  the  most  mar- 
rowy Wagner  has  written.  When  Walther  insists  on 
singing  his  third  stanza,  at  the  examination,  even  though 
Beckmesser  and  the  other  "  experts  "  have  already  con- 
demned hiia,  Sachs  exclaims :  — 

"  Das  heisa  ich  Muth,  aingt  der  noch  forti " 

("  I  call  that  courage ;  be  still  sings  on  ")  —  which  brings 
before  us  Wagner  himself,  of  whom  it  has  been  wittily 
said  that  when  the  critics  condemned  him  for  doing  a 
certain  thing  be  replied  by  "  doing  it  again,  only  more 


so."  It  should  also  be  noted  tint  iliiioii^  Savdis  ic  l3tMt 
champion  of  spontaneoas  genhu  and  itorirhT  is  an,  l«e. 
nevertheless,  like  the  tme  Wagxter  (not  tLe  sueudMbouft 
caricatore  of  the  erities »,  insists  ikxad  the  incpetniciiis 
knight  shoold  respect  the  old  mastcxs:  ^  V^nehtet  ntir 
die  Meister  nicht."  How  deli^^btfnllj,  text,  tiae  qnesetaoD 
of  the  *^ endless"  or  "fbiest  Melody "  is  g"*""**^  iq^ 
in  Sachs's  lines:  — 


«•  Nor  mit  der  Xdodflf 

8eidikrdii«en% 
Doehngiek 
Knr  MI'S  nidk 
UiiddasSi«Bt 


•  ■« 


In  prose:  ''Bat  vidi  the  melodj  joa  ai«  a  Bttfe  free; 
yet  would  I  not  call  that  a  isolt;  odj  'tis  sot  €aisj  to 
remember,  and  that  annoys  i0ar  old  ODf»." 

Tet  there  is  nothing  biuer  in  his  UtaasL-ffid  <A  tLt  ene- 
mies who  are  satirized  in  this  Qi0en^  It  if  tjjfjwii  that 
he  suffered  most  acntelj  from  the  criticsd  tLorxts  wLxrh 
were  incessantly  thrust  into  his  heart;  D^TertLel/f^sSy 
when  he  came  to  take  his  rerenge,  he  simplj  gare  the 
public  a  chance  to  see  the  **  Beokmessers  ^  in  their  true 
light  as  unconscious  clowns  and  grotesque  fc^ols.  There 
is,  besides,  a  sly  point  of  sarcasm  in  this,  that  Boekmes- 
ser  is  made  not  only  Walther's  judge,  but  also  his  riral, 
and  thus  has  extra  reason  to  hate  him,  because  he  takes 
away  his  prize.  By  way  of  emphasizing  this  point  I 
may  quote  here  what  Pohl  says  in  another  oonnection:  — 


tt 


Tbe  mediocre  operft^oompoten  are,  witbom  ezoepcioii,  Wagoief^s 
enemies.  .  .  .  £mil  Xsnnumn,  and  hif  friend,  Ccmit  toii  Hocb- 
berg.  Max  Bmch,  Gail  Reinecke,  Abert,  Rheinthakr,  ele.,  not  to 
forget  RnWmtffa,— all  are  more  or  lesi  enraged  whtm  Wsgner  is 


228  fFAONEH'S  ONLY  COMIC  OPERA 

mentioned  in  tlielr  presence.  For  Wagner  alone  is  to  blame  Ibal 
Lhelr  operas  do  not  ainounl  to  anything.  Had  Wagner  uever  been, 
they  would  be  somebodies,  while  now  tbty  are  nobodies.  Conse- 
quently —  such  IB  their  logic  —  Wagner  is  the  niin  of  art  1 " 

Anotber  amusiug  actual  feature  in  this  comedy  is 
that  some  of  the  critics  who  feel  more  or  less  guilty  of 
having  once  been  Beckmessers,  still  are  a  little  sore  on 
the  subject  and  mercilessly  abuse  actors  who  are  intelli- 
gent enough  to  treat  this  part  in  a  real  burlesque  spirit. 
But  Wagner  shows  by  his  whole  treatment  of  this  role 
—  the  blackboard  scene,  the  tuning  and  twanging  of  the 
lute,  the  grotesque  serenade,  the  antics  (musical  and 
mimic)  in  Sachs's  room  after  the  fight,  and  especially 
the  laughable  parody  of  the  prize  aong  on  the  little  stand 
on  the  meadow :  — 

"  Morgen  Ich  leuchte  la  rodgem  Bcbein, 
Voll  Blat  und  Duft,"  etc., 

that  he  intended  this  rfliaracter  to  be  essentially  a  bur- 
lesque, and  not  the  doleful,  dignified  duffer  the  critics 
referred  to  would  have  it.  Wagner  even  rewrote  the 
mock  prize-song  and  made  it  more  extravagant  than  be- 
fore. Beckmesser  is  naturally  a  silly  fellow,  and  in 
this  case  his  pedantry,  arrogance,  and  incompetence  are 
aggravated  in  such  a  manner  by  blinding  jealousy  that 
he  cannot  help  making  a  fool  of  himself.  If  he  did  not 
make  a  fool  of  himself,  why  should  the  people  laugh  at 
him  loudly,  and  the  Masters  exclaim :  "  What  does  this 
mean?     Can  he  be  crazy?  "  ' 

'  0[  course  tlie  self -burl  eeque  Tnnst  be  Dnconecioug  on  BeckmesBer's 
parL  Wagner  wrote  to  a  tenor  In  1ST2:  "  Be  serious  throughout.  .  .  . 
Great  pettinsu  and  much  gall.    Take  as  a  model  any  captious  critic." 


TEX  POXM  AND  TEX  MUSIC  229 

Perhaps  the  most  astounding  thing  about  this  comic 
opera  is  that  its  music  differs  from  that  of  the  tragic 
IVistan  as  widely  as  does  the  poem.  Comparing  the 
two,  no  one  can  fail  to  be  struck  by  the  profound  origi- 
nality and  extreme  range  of  Wagner's  genius.  Although, 
of  course,  every  bar  of  his  music  bears  his  autograph, 
yet  there  is  hardly  anything  in  the  Meiaterainger  that 
suggests  its  predecessor,  except  the  deliberate  reference 
of  Sachs  to  the  story  of  Tristan  and  Isolde,  which,  of 
course,  evokes  from  the  orchestra  a  couple  of  Leading 
Motives  from  the  Tristan  score.  In  Tristan  all  is  head- 
long, impetuous  passion,  leaving  one  hardly  time  to  gasp 
for  breath;  while  Die  Meistersinger  is  full  of  fun  and 
frolic,  naive  mirth,  sweet  simple  melody,  and  brisk, 
exhilarating  rhythms.  In  its  unfathomable  wealth  of 
melody  this  comic  opera  is  a  marvel.  Surely  Mozart 
was  a  great  melodist,  especially  in  his  operas,  yet  Pro- 
fessor Tappert  does  not  exaggerate  when  he  says  that 
there  is  more  melody  in  Die  Meistersinger  than  in  all  of 
Mozart's  operas  combined.  We  may  also  ask :  Where, 
in  the  whole  range  of  music,  is  there  such  a  soulful 
orchestral  prelude  as  that  of  the  third  act?  Where  a 
more  exquisite  melody  than  the  prize-song?  where  a 
concerted  piece  of  more  thrilling  beauty  than  the  quintet 
of  the  last  act?  where  a  more  stirring  choral  than  that 
which  opens  the  opera,  or  a  more  glorious  chorus  than 
the  ''  Wachet  Auf  "  ?  And  how  all  these  melodies,  with 
scores  of  others,  are  interwoven  throughout  the  opera, 
making  the  music  mirror  the  poem  word  by  word!  Pre- 
viously to  Wagner  it  was  considered  the  supreme  achieve- 
ment of  musical  genius  to  write,  not  even  a  whole 
symphony,  but  only  a  single  symphonic  movement  (last- 


230  WAGNEB'S  ONLY  COMIC  OPERA 

iog  about  a  quarter  of  an  hour)  in  such  a  way  that  its 
themes  are  logically  developed  and  connected;  but  here 
we  have  a  a  four-hour  sr/mphomc  score  organically  con- 
nected in  all  Ha  parts  I  Think  how  much  greater  a  genius 
for  form,  ia  required  to  do  this  than  to  write  a  symphonic 
movement!  and  think  how  much  more  brains  are  re- 
quired to  grasp  such  au  achievement,  and  realize  its 
marvel  than  to  be  simply  tickled  by  a  string  of  operatic 
tunes  to  the  accompaniment  of  au  orchestral  guitar  I 

It  would  detain  us  too  long  to  refer  even  to  the  principal 
musical  beauties  of  this  score,  Herbeck,  who  conducted 
this  opera  when  it  was  first  produced  in  Vienna,  said 
that  if  Wagner  had  written  nothing  but  the  introduction 
of  the  third  act,  he  would  have  to  be  claased  with  the 
immortal  composers.  The  introduction  to  the  first  act 
is  quite  as  fine  in  its  way,  but  Is  much  more  difficult  to 
interpret  properly  on  account  of  the  constant  modifica- 
tion of  tempo  called  for.  One  of  the  most  fascinating 
details  in  the  whole  score  has  always  teen  to  me  that 
stupendous  pedal  point  which  is  heard  when  the  congre- 
gation leaves  church  (and  generally  overlooked  in  the 
interest  inspired  by  the  flirtation  in  the  foreground)  — 
a  long-drawn-out  basa  note  which  serves  as  pivot  for  a 
series  of  superb  modulations  —  resembling  a  church 
organ  with  orchestral  sonority  and  wealth  of  coloring. 
In  tlie  second  act  one  of  the  musical  gems  is  Sachs's  mon- 
ologue, when  the  fragrance  of  the  elder  tree,  transmuted 
into  tones,  is  diffused  over  the  wliole  audience.  What 
colors!  what  modulations!  And  how  poetically  this 
act  closes!  A  Meyerbeer  would  have  ended  it,  for 
"effect,"  with  the  noisy  mob-scene  and  "free  fight." 
Not  so  Wagner.     The  rise  of  the  moon  on  the  narrow 


THE  CHORUS  IN  WAGNEB'S  0PEBA8       281 

mediffival  street,  the  appearance  of  the  timid  old  watch- 
maiiy  with  his  spear  and  lantern,  while  the  orchestra 
wafts  zephyrs  of  fragrant  reminiscences  over  the  audito- 
rium, is  an  episode  which  alone  would  stamp  its  creator 
as  the  most  imaginative  and  poetic  of  modern  dramatists. 
The  realism  and  "  local  color  "  of  the  scenes  in  which 
this  watchman  appears  are  greatly  heightened  if  he  blows 
a  real  ox-horn  (instead  of  having  his  part  blown  on  a 
trombone,  as  was  done  at  first  in  Vienna  and  in  New 
York).  The  tones  of  the  real  ox-horn  contrast  most  de- 
lightfully with  the  gossamer  moonlight  harmonies  which 
follow  in  the  orchestra,  and  Wagner  was  even  more  solici- 
tous about  this  horn  than  about  Beckmesser's  having  the 
real  twangy  lute  prescribed  (for  which  all  sorts  of  sub- 
stitutes have  been  used,  including  a  harp  with  paper 
between  the  strings).  To  Eckert  in  Berlin  he  wrote 
(Luzem,  1870) :  — 

"  I  beg  you  most  insistently  to  see  that  a  real  ox-horn  in  G  flat 
Ib  provided  for  the  watchman.  This  is  indispensable  and  impend 
tive  for  a  unique,  important  effect.**  In  a  letter  to  Herbeck,  he 
notes  the  drastic  effect  produced  by  this  scene  in  Munich,  adding 
pointedly :  *^  When  I  prescribe  such  a  thing,  I  know  what  I  am 
about,  and  if  you  had  been  in  Munich,  you  would  have  been  con- 
vinced that  the  effect  I  here  attain  with  the  natural  horn  is  very 
X)ertinent,  and  necessary  to  make  the  situation  clear.** 

THE  CHORUS  IN  WAGNBR'S  OPERAS 

It  was  Wagner's  opinion  that  Die  Meistersingery  more 
than  any  other  drama  of  his,  would  appeal  to  non-German 
audiences.  This  opinion  time  has  verified.  In  Eng- 
land, Italy,  Belgium,  it  has  been  the  first  of  all  the  later 
music-dramas  to  be  selected  for  acclimatization.    Nor  is 


232  WAGNER'S  ONLY  COMIC  OPERA 

it  difBcult  to  account  for  this.  Die  Meisterainger  might 
be  called  the  Lohengrin  o£  the  Third  Period.  It  is  true 
that  in  the  treatment  of  the  voices  and  the  orchestra,  in 
instrumental  coloring,  and  especially  in  the  constant 
ingeuiouH  use  of  Leading  Motives  the  Meistersinger  score 
does  not  differ  from  that  of  its  immediate  predecessor; 
but  ill  other  respects  it  resembles  Lohengrin  rather  than 
Tristan;  especially  by  its  abundant  choruses,  lyric  epi- 
sodes, and  pompous  processions.  How  are  we  to  ac- 
count for  this  contrast  between  Die  Meisterainger  and 
Tristan?  The  difference  in  subjects,  one  being  comic, 
the  other  tragic,  does  not  explain  it,  for  Lohengrin,  too, 
is  tragic.  The  problem  is  as  deep  as  it  is  interesting, 
and  its  solution  will  throw  a  bright  light  on  the  evolu- 
tion of  Wagner's  genius. 

In  the  chapter  entitled  "How  Wagner  Composed"  we 
saw  that  be  usually  conceived  his  musical  ideas  simul- 
taneously  with  his  verses.  Now  we  know  that  the  plot 
of  Die  Meistersinger  was  sketched  and  written  out  in  the 
same  month  as  the  sketch  of  Lohengrin,  and  even  pre- 
ceding the  latter.  This  plot  was  not  seriously  modified 
when  —  fifteen  years  later  —  the  verses  were  written  out 
in  Paris.  May  we  not  assume,  in  view  of  the  juvenile 
character  of  many  of  the  Meistersinger  melodies  (espe- 
cially in  the  third  act),  that  these  melodies  did  not  wait 
for  the  verses,  but  crowded  into  Wagner's  mind  in  that 
fertile  perio<l  while  he  was  sketching  the  mere  outlines 
of  the  plot  in  the  Bohemian  forest?  There  is  nothing 
improbable  in  this  supposition,  but  in  the  absence  of  any 
direct  hints  to  this  effect  in  the  composer's  essays  or 
letters,  it  must  stiiud  as  a  mere  guess.  At  the  same 
time  there  is  another  and  a  still  more  suggestive  way  of 


TEX  CHonua  in  waqneb's  operas     288 

explaining  the  resemblance  in  the  ''popular"  character 
of  Lohengrin  and  Die  Meistersinger. 

I  am  convinced  that  Lohengrin  owes  its  popular  inter- 
national success  in  part  to  the  &ct  that  Wagner^  dis- 
gusted and  alarmed  by  the  frigid  reception  of  the 
DuJtchman  and  TannhdueeTy  made  a  deliberate  effort  to 
meet  the  public  half-waj^  not  by  concessions  and  incon- 
sistencies, but  by  widening  his  principles  sufficiently  to 
take  in  some  popular  operatic  elements  and  weld  them 
with  his  own  dramatic  style.  The  same,  I  suspect,  is 
true  of  the  Meistersinger.  Discouraged  by  the  inability 
to  complete  his  Tetralogy  without  interruption,  and  still 
more  by  failure  of  all  efforts  to  bring  out  his  Tristan 
imtil  seven  years  after  its  completion,  he  was  once  more 
in  the  mood  for  a  reconciliation  such  as  he  had  been  in 
when  composing  Lohengrin.  It  was  the  easier  to  give 
himself  up  to  this  mood,  as  it  harmonized  with  a  change 
in  his  musico-dramatic  principles.  He  has  nowhere  in 
his  writings  confessed  this  change;  but  practice  is  more 
convincing  than  theory :  the  scores  of  Die  JHeietereinger 
and  Parsifal  —  the  last  two  of  his  works  to  be  planned 
in  detail  —  are  more  eloquent  proof  of  the  recantation 
than  any  theoretical  treatise  could  be. 

This  recantation  relates  to  the  use  of  ensemble  pieces 
—  duos,  trios,  etc.,  and  especially,  of  choruses.  We  know 
that  in  the  first  two  periods,  ending  with  Rienzi  and 
with  Lohengrin  respectively,  Wagner  made  use  of  the 
chorus,  like  other  opera-composers,  and,  in  the  latter 
case,  surpassed  them  all  on  their  own  ground,  not  only 
as  regards  the  musical  grandeur  of  his  ensembles,  but  by 
the  conscientious  dramatic  use  he  made  of  them  —  not 
dragging  the  choristers  in  by  the  hair  whenever  he  thought 


individualities  can  arouse  our  ; 
stun    (verbluffen),  but  cannot   io 
gradually  disappeared  from  the 
none  in  tiie  Shakes  peariitn  drama 
none  in  the  muaic-drania;  ei-t/O  W 
special  use  of  it  in  his  five  works 
four  Sibelung  dramas  and  TrMem. 
This   reasoning  seems   logioal, 
tainly  was  consistent  with  the  < 
But  there  was  a  flaw  in  the  arga 
that  masses  can  only  ''  stun  "  and  n 
est  us.     The  thrilling  effects  prodo 
company  In  such  plays  as  ,M(u» 
mannaachlacht  prove  the  contrary, 
can  interest  us  musically  —  very  n: 
this  is  what  Wagner  forgot  for  the 
was  in  a  state  of  reaction;  he  wai 
unscrupulous  manner  in  which  his 
opera  hod  sacriflced  the  drama  to  mu 
chorus  seems  to  necessitate  ondri 
words;    moreover,   when  fifty  or   ] 
words,  no  one  can  understand  the 
chorus  must  go,  in  the  interest  oj 
more  as  the  symoboni"    "—^ 


THE  CHOBUS  IN  WAGNXB'8  0PMBA8 


^ 


Here,  again,  Wagner  overlooks  an  important  fact 
Granted  that  the  chorus  cannot  be  properly  understood, 
why  should  it  not  be  used  as  an  integral  part  of  the  or- 
cheatraf  for  variety  of  color,  and  the  attainment  of  a  mas- 
sive climax,  deriving  its  eloquence,  like  the  orchestra 
itself,  from  the  use  of  Leading  Motives?  Wagner  allowed 
the  pendulum  to  swing  too  far  in  the  direction  of  the 
drama,  and  in  doing  so  overlooked  the  &ct  that  in  a  music- 
drama  music  has  its  special  claims  as  well  as  the  drama. 

But,  as  I  have  said,  he  saw  his  error  in  time  to  let 
two  of  his  most  mature  works  benefit  by  his  change  of 
view.  And  besides,  if  we  look  at  the  matter  closely, 
we  find  that  in  reality  only  two  of  his  dramas  are  en- 
tirely without  chorus  and  ensemble-songs,  —  Rheingold* 
and  Siegfried.  Siegfried  does  not  need  any,  but  Rhein- 
giM  would  have  doubtless  benefited  by  the  musical  utili- 
zation of  the  chorus  which  co-operates  in  the  drama. 
Even  Tristan  has  a  chorus;  true,  it  sings  only  a  few 
bars,  but  when  they  are  lustily  sung  they  produce  a 
splendid  effect.  In  the  WaJkiire  we  have  the  weird  and 
thrilling  chorus  of  the  war-maidens;  in  OdUerddmrne- 
rung  the  manly  chorus  of  Hagen's  followers;  in  Parsifal 
a  delightful  variety  of  choral  music,  supplied  by  the 
knights  and  the  flower  maidens.  Of  concerted  pieces, 
too,  there  are  some  choice  specimens  in  this  strict  theo- 
retical period  —  think  of  the  glorious  trios  of  the  Ehine 
maidens  in  Bheingold  and  Odtterd&mmerung,  the  love- 
duos  in  WaUcUre  and  Siegfried,  and  find  anything  to 
equal  them  in  other  operas  if  you  can.  As  for  the  quin- 
tet in  the  Meistersinger,  few  would  deny  that  it  dwarfs 
every  other  quintet  ever  written.  The  same  is  true  of 
the  superb  choruses  in  this  opera.     Where  will  you  find 


236  WAGIfEB'S  OyLT  COMIC  OPERA 

anything  to  match  the  opening  choral  fwith  the  exqui- 
sitely ainorous  orchestral  interludes  depicting  the  flirta- 
tion), the  merry  gambols  of  the  apprentices,  the  humorous 
songs  of  the  tailors,  bakers,  and  cobblers,  and  especially 
the  glorious  "  Wachet  auf "  at  the  close?  Here  the 
vox  popuH  is  indeed  divine ! ' 

BECEHEBSEB   CBITICI8HS 

It  was  a  lucky  circumstance  that  no  leas  a  man  than 
Hans  Richter  supervised  the  choral  forces  in  this  opera, 
where  they  play  so  great  a  r61e.  The  sixty-six  separate 
rehearsals  on  which  he  had  insisted  ensured  absolute 
perfection  of  the  choral  parts,  and  this  had  much  to  do 
with  the  enthusiasm  aroused  at  the  first  performances  in 
Munich.  Even  the  local  critics  were  carried  off  their 
feet  for  the  moment,  and  could  not  but  admit  that  the 
opera  was  a  popular  success.  It  was  bom  under  a  lucky 
star.  While  Tristan  had  had  to  wait  .seven  years  for  a 
performance,  and  remained  for  a  decade  longer  confined 
to  Munich,  Die  Meistersinger  had  been  put  on  the  stage 
eight  months  after  its  completion  and  at  once  made  its 
way  to  various  cities;  to  Dresden,  Dessau,  Karlsruhe, 
Mannheim,  Weimar,  within  the  following  year  (1869), 
and  in  1870  to  Hanover,  Vienna,  Konisberg,  and  even 
Berlin,  with  other  cities.  The  critics  thus  had  an  early 
opportunity  to  have  their  "say,"  and  they  made  the  best 
iise  of  it,  their  unconscious  mission  being,  as  usual,  to 
amuse  future  generations. 

'  The  moll  Bcene  at  tliu  close  of  the  second  act  is  the  greatest  poly- 
phonic marvel  ever  written.  It  is  amazingly  difficult,  and  Gblert, 
UiinhiDg  iC  iniposaible,  uriied  its  omission  and  a  resort  U>  dunili-shoiT. 
But  I  Lave  lieard  this  "  impossible  "  scene  sung  to  perlecUoQ  many  a 
time.    Eblert'8  advice  is  atnurd. 


.     BECKME88EB  CBITICI8M8  287 

One  of  the  best-known  German  critics.  Otto  Gum- 
prechty  said  of  the  Introduction  to  Die  Meistersinger  that 
it  was  "a  vicious  kind  of  polyphony,  poisoned  counter- 
point^' (!)  and  speaks  further  of  "this  ugly  rioting  of 
dissonances  that  make  one's  hair  stand  on  end,  this 
brutal  terrorism  of  the  brass."  According  to  Ferdinand 
Hiller  the  riot  scene  is  "the  craziest  assault  ever  made 
on  art,  taste,  music,  and  poetry."  "'Brutal'  is  the 
only  correct  word  for  this  scene,"  wrote  our  old  friend 
Dorn.  The  periodical  Europa  pronoimced  the  opera  "a 
dramatico-musical  humbug."  The  Berlin  Montagszei- 
tung  called  it  "the  most  horrible  caterwauling  that  could 
be  devised,"  and  compares  the  effect  to  that  which  would 
be  produced  if  all  the  organ-grinders  in  Berlin  played  at 
the  same  time  in  the  Circus  Eenz,  each  a  different  tune. 
Echo  refers  to  the  "  voice-murdering  part  of  Hans  Sachs." 
Another  paper  calls  the  score  "a  boundless  desert." 
Dr.  J.  Gastan  said  that  a  single  cavatina  in  Eossini's 
Barber  was  worth  more  than  Wagner's  whole  score, 
and  he  was  exceedingly  angry  with  the  composer  for 
"daring"  to  introduce  Rossini's  "Di  tanti  palpiti"  in 
the  bleating  chorus  of  the  tailors.^ 

Let  us  now  hear  what  Dr.  Eduard  Hanslick,  Beckmes- 
ser  of  Musical  History  at  the  University  of  Vienna,  has 
to  say  about  Richard  Wagner's  Meistersinger:  — 

The  Introduction  is  '*  a  musical  product  of  painful  artificiality, 
and  poeitiTely  brutal  in  its  effect.'*  **  Pogner's  address  falls  like 
a  ray  of  sunlight  into  the  tediously  dismal  musical  mist  that  before 

^Tappert  chronicles  this  conyersation  in  a  German  library,  1868. 
Visitor:  **'HB,YejoviW9Lgaet*8  Meistersinger?"  Librarian:  "No,  sirl 
I  could  never  assume  the  responsibility  of  purchasing  such  rubbish.  If 
we  had  money  to  throw  away,  I  would  put  a  copy  in  the  reading-room 
as  a  warning  example." 


238  WAONES'S  ONLY  COMIC  OPSSA 

it  prevailed  olune."  The  dialogue  between  Skcha  and  Eva  "u  k 
whole  is  painfully  monotonous  and  ponderous."  Sachs's  cobbler 
song  (Jerum,  Jeruin)  is  "  alleged  to  be  comic,  but  suggests  ku 
infuriated  hyena  rather  Iban  a  merry  cobbler."  Sachs's  joke  (tum- 
mering  on  the  soles)  ends  by  being  "  inHultely  Insipid,"  The  riot 
scene  at  the  end  of  the  secoad  act  becomes,  on  the  stage,  "  a  truly 
brutal  shouting  and  ooise."  Sachs'a  "  Wahu"  monologue,  but  tor 
a  few  interesting  details,  "  would  expose  us  to  the  danger  of  fall- 
ing asleep."  Even  the  melodious  quintet  owes  i»  effect  entirely 
to  the  fact  that  no  other  ensemble  music  has  been  heard  so  long : 
"  in  any  other  opera  it  would  not  have  ezci(«d  such  uncominon 
att£Dtiou."  "  The  tnoat  serious  defect  is  Wagner's  absolute  lack 
of  humor." 

■'  In  the  expression  of  the  comic,  in  particular,  Wagner's  music 
la  thoroughly  unfortunate ;  it  beooroea  here  regularly  inflated,  over- 
tiwlen,  aye  disagreeable."  The  mob  scene  la  ■>  not  comic  but  only 
ugly  and  vulgar."  In  this  opera  the  "  vocal  part  In  itself  is  not 
only  something  incomplete,  but  nothing  at  all."  And,  worst  of 
all,  tlicru  in  abaoluteiy  no  fonn  In  tlie  score.  It  is  "a  boneless 
tone-mollusc."  It  is  "the  deliberate  dissolution  of  all  definite 
form  into  a  formless,  sensually-intoxicating  mass  of  sound,  Hie 
substitution  for  independent  organic  melodies  of  a  formless,  vague 
melodizing." 

JENSEN,   DBESbEN,   AND  VIENNA 

Compare  with  tlieae  utterances  of  a  profeasional  Phil- 
istine the  impression  produced  by  tlie  same  opera  on  a 
mail  of  genius  —  one  who  would  have  ranked  among  the 
higliest,  had  not  an  early  death  snatched  him  away. 
Adolf  Jensen  heard  this  opera  in  Munich  and  wrote  to 
a  friend:  "  I  do  not  attempt  to  describe  to  you  the  im- 
pression it  luatie  upon  me.  It  is  indescribable.  Dur- 
ing the  first  act  the  tears  incessantly  trembled  in  my 
eyes,  and  all  my  veins  throbbed."  Jensen  was  inspired 
by  his  impressions  to  attempt  a  comic  opera  of  his  owqj 


JEIfSEN,  DRESDEN,  AND  VIENNA  239 

but  he  was  already  too  much  weakened  by  consumption 
to  undertake  such  a  task.  He  went  to  Dresden^  where 
he  ahnost  killed  himself  by  his  efforts  to  promote  the 
performances  of  Wagner's  comic  opera.  In  a  letter  to 
Ehlert  he  speaks  of  the  cabals  formed  against  it  there :  — 

**  As  I  can  see  eTerywhere,  great  efforts  are  being  made  to  secore 
a  foilure  for  the  opera — if  it  succeeds  in  spite  of  these,  it  will  be 
due  to  the  conyincing  truth  and  power  of  the  music,  and  such 
an  unsuspected  success  would  be  a  painful  suiprise  to  certain 
persons.** 

Jensen  ''did  his  utmost  to  teach  the  artists,  wrote 
letters  to  everyboify  he  thought  he  could  influence, 
played  and  sang  the  score  from  beginning  to  end  to 
everybody  he  cotdd  get  to  listen  to  him,''  as  a  biographer 
of  his  relates.  And  success  was  his  reward.  Over 
five  thousand  orders  came  in  for  the  first  night,  and  Die 
Meisterainger  soon  became  a  favorite  in  Dresden  although 
at  that  time  the  performance  was  much  inferior  to  that 
in  Munich. 

Two  more  citations  from  Jensen's  letters  may  be  made 
by  way  of  showing  Wagner's  profound  influence  on  his 
genius.  Concerning  his  opera  40,  41,  he  says :  "  In  these 
songs  you  will  seek  in  vain  for  the  former  gushing,  van- 
ished Jensen.  Earth  grips  me  once  more.  My  great 
venerated  master,  Richard  Wagner,  lies  deep  at  the 
bottom  of  my  heart."  In  1870  he  secured  a  copy  of 
Tristatiy  and  "for  eight  days,"  he  writes,  "I  rioted  in 
ecstasy  over  it  without  getting  to  the  end  of  the  flrst 
act." » 

1  It  is  often  said  that  Wagner  wiU  never  form  a  school.  Fudge!  AU 
the  younger  composers  belong  to  the  Wagner  "  school "  in  modulation, 
melody,  and  instrumentation,  even  if  they  do  not  write  mnsio^dramas 


240  WAGSEB'3  OSLY  COMIC  OPEBA 

It  would  take  too  much  space  to  follow  the  adventures 
of  Die  Meistersinger  through  the  various  G«rtaaii  and 
foreign  cities.  Brief  reference  must,  however,  be  made 
to  the  performances  at  Vienna,  because  we  possess  in  the 
Herbeck  biography  a  full  and  most  interesting  account 
of  it,  including  several  long  and  valuable  letters  by 
Warner,  from  which  I  have  already  quoted.  Johann 
Strauss  (who,  by  the  way,  is  another  genius  who  at  least 
in  instrumentation  also  belongs  to  the  Wagner  "  school ") 
liad  been  the  first,  in  1853,  to  introduce  fragments  from 
Lohengrin  in  Vienna,  and  he  it  was  also  who  first  played 
Meistersinger  fragments  in  that  city.  When  the  opera 
itself  was  under  rehearsal,  the  usual  ant i- Wagnerian 
rumors  were  circulated.  One  of  these  was :  "  The  opera 
is  so  difB.cult  that  the  director  will  be  obliged  to  give  it 
up  at  the  last  moment."  Another:  "The  music  is  of 
8  nature  which  makes  a  failure  seem  inevitable;  the 
very  first  chord  of  the  overture  is  false."  There  was  a 
clique  in  the  audience  which  attempted  to  imitate  the 
Paris  Jockey  Club  with  hisses,  whistling,  and  howling, 
the  consequence  being  that,  as  Herbeck  telegraphed  to 
the  composer  (among  other  things) :  "  Close  of  second 
act  not  yet  properly  heard  by  any  one  because  of  colos- 
sally  enthusiastic  applause  mingled  with  hisses."    But 

with  leadtng  motLves.  Tlis  I&Cer  Jensen  U  of  the  Wagner  "  scbool." 
All  the  French  composers  of  to-ilay  have  been  Influenced  by  Wagner. 
So  has  the  Norwegian  Grieg,  who  is  a  great  admirer  of  Wagnet,  and 
who  wrote  a  epecial  account  of  the  Bayreulh  festival  in  1876,  The  Bo- 
hemian Dvorik.  as  a  young  man,  followed  ahout  Wagner  In  Prague  with 
a  TeneratiOD  Ube  that  which  Wagner  felt  towards  Weber;  and  it  Is  on 
him  that  Wagner's  mantle  of  gorgeous  orchestral  coloring  has  fallen. 
To-day  It  Is  almost  impossible  to  take  np  an  opera  or  orcbeelral  score 
without  noting  the  effect  of  Wagner's  "acbooling"  in  bannony  and 
orcbeatratlon. 


JSN8SK,  JbMXSDXN,  Anj}  VlMMJiA 


241 


on  subsequent  evenings  the  opposition  disappeared. 
Wagner  would  have  been  willing  to  cooperate,  but  lie 
had  not  been  officially  invited,  as  the  management  feared 
that  the  disturbances  might  be  increased  by  his  presenee. 
Nor  was  he  needed,  at  least  for  present  porpoees.  Eleven 
performances  were  given  in  rapid  succession;  where- 
upon the  opera  was  shelved  for  a  long  time;  and  why? 
Because  the  Hans  Sachs,  Beck,  had  turned  Beck-messer. 
He  measured  Wagner's  art  by  his  own  powers,  dedaied 
that  further  singing  of  his  rdle  would  ruin  his  voice; 
and  there  was  no  one  to  take  his  place. 


fti 


1 

4 


FROM  MUNICH  TO  BAYREUTH 

BHEINGOLD   AND    WALKURE   IN   UUNICH 

After  the  Meitlernnger  hod  been  laimcbed  at  Munioh, 
Wagaer  returned  to  Lucerne  and  took  up  ^ain  the  twic«- 
interrupted  composition  of  Siegfried,  with  the  intention 
of  completing  the  last  of  the  four  dramas,  too,  aa  wxHi 
as  possible,  and  then  attempting,  with  the  King's  assist- 
ance, to  give  the  Nibeluug  Festival.  But  the  King' 
was  an  insatiable  i^d  impatient  Wagnerite.  The  Odt- 
terdaniTnerung  would  take  some  time  to  compose,  and 
in  the  meantime  Hia  Majesty  was  anxious  to  hear  the 
two  dramas  that  had  so  long  been  awaiting  performance 
—  Rheingold  and  Walkure.  Wagner  finally  had  to  yield 
to  his  desires,  and,  much  against  his  own  wish,  gave  up 
his  Rkeingdld  score  to  Intendant  Perfall.  Most  unfor- 
tunately, it  soon  appeared.  The  King  had  given  written 
orders  that  Rkeingold  should  be  conscientiously  placed 
on  the  stage  in  exact  accordance  with  Wagner's  direc- 
tions, and  the  unprecedented  sum  of  60,000  florins  had 
been  expended  on  the  scenery.  But  the  Intendant  had 
given  the  job  into  such  incompetent  hands  that  when  it 
came  to  the  rehearsals  the  complicated  machinery  was 
found  not  only  far  from  what  Wagner  intended  it  to  be, 
but  practically  useless.  Indeed,  the  eminent  Hessian 
stage  machinist  Brandt,  on  consultation,  declared  that  it 


BHEINQOLD  AND  WALKUBE  IN  MUNICH    248 

could  not  be  even  improved  but  would  have  to  be  made 
anew  to  answer  its  purposes.  Under  these  circum- 
stances Hans  Richter,  who  had  been  chosen  Kapellmeis- 
ter (Bdlow  having  again  resigned),  refused  to  conduct ; 
for  which  act  of  '^  insubordination  "  he  was  suspended, 
while  at  the  same  time  Intendant  von  Perfall  handed 
in  his  resignation,  declaring  that  either  he  or  Richter 
must  go.     Or,  as  his  newspaper  organ  ^  put  it :  — 

**  Yon  Perfall  gave  this  alternative :  either  to  have  that  influenoe 
broken  for  good  or  to  go  himself.  ...  So  important  an  art  insti- 
tute as  the  Munich  Court  Opera  must  not  any  longer — such  is  pub- 
lic opinion — be  made  the  playground  of  boundless  wilfulness, 
intriguing  presumption,  and  boyish  vainglory,  such  as  the  satellites 
of  the  new  Great  Koptha  show." 

Hans  Bichter,  on  his  part,  wrote  a  long  letter  to  a 
local  paper,*  which  is  one  of  those  manly,  eloquent  docu- 
ments that  carry  conviction  in  every  line.  He  shows  up 
PerfalFs  conduct  in  its  true  light,  and  says  of  the  re- 
hearsals (Betz,  Schlosser,  and  Frau  Stehle  were  in  the 
cast) :  — 

(^The  most  annoying  incidents  occurred.  The  frantic  joy  of 
those  who  desired  a  failure,  the  hopeless  despondency  of  those  who 
were  equally  anxious  of  success,  will  f oreyer  remain  engraven  in  the 
memory  of  all  concerned.**  He  ends  his  letter  with  these  words 
in  explanation  of  his  refusal  to  conduct :  **  I  am  convinced  that  I 
have  herein  behaved  by  no  means  as  'a  Wagnerian  music-director,* 
as  the  Intendant*8  organ  asserts,  but  simply  as  a  man  of  honor, 
who  would  rather  sacrifice  his  position  than  his  artistic  conviction.** 

A  worthy  disciple  of  his  master.  After  Richter's 
resignation  the  direction  of  Rheingold  was  successively 

1  Attgemeine  Zeitung,  Sept.  11, 1809. 

*  Reprinted  in  Neue  ZeiUchrift  fikr  Musik,  Sept.  24»  1869. 


244 


FBOM  MVSICB  TO  SATREUTB 


offered  to  Tjaasen,  Biilow,  Klindwortli,  and  Saint-SaSoa, 
all  of  whom  refuued.  It  was  finally  accepted  by  Wiillner, 
and  a  few  very  crude  performancea  were  given.  Many 
well-known  persons  were  among  the  spectators,  includ- 
ing Liszt,  Klindworth,  SerofE,  Sgambati,  Langhans,  Pas- 
deloup,  Mend^s,  Saint-Saens,  Brassin,  Lproy,  Holmes, 
Draeaeke,  Joachim,  Viardot-Garcia,  Bache,  Dannreu- 
ther,  etc,  Hanalick  came  from  Vienna  and  prophesied 
in  his  report  that  no  other  opera-house  would  ever  again 
produce  this  worthless  and  expensive  work!  Wagner's 
attitude  in  this  matter  is  shown  in  these  lines  from  a 
public  letter  addressed  by  him  to  the  Allgemeine :  — 

"Thai  m7  refusal  to  coSperate  peisonalljr  was  not  the  conae- 

quence  of  an  '  elaborate  intrigaa  against  the  Iiiteudanl,"  I  proved 
by  the  fntl  that  wlion  the  evil  results  of  this  con  due  tor-less  uoder- 
taklng  became  roanifeet,  I  hMI«ned  to  Mnnlch,  bot  to  BecoiB  for 
my  work  an  adequate  perform&iice,  which  was  Impoaaible,  but  ona 
sufficient  tu  save  the  honor  of  the  Intendancc" 


The  date  of  the  first  performance  was  Sept,  22.  In 
the  following  summer,  June  26,  1870,  the  Walkvre,  with 
Vogl  and  his  wife  as  Siegmund  and  Sieglinde,  was  given, 
with  musical  results  not  very  much  better  than  those 
that  attended  Rkeingold;  for  the  composer  not  only  re- 
fused to  have  anything  more  to  do  with  the  Munich 
Opera,  but  even  declined  to  advise  the  Intendant  regard- 
ing a  conductor  and  other  matters.  Wiillner  conducted 
again,  but  he  had  not  had,  like  Eichter,  the  advan- 
tage of  studying  the  score  with  the  composer;  he  dragged 
the  tempi  so  much  that  the  drama  lasted  half  an  hour 
longer  than  it  should  have  lasted.  Nevertheless,  the 
reception  of  this  work  was  enthusiastic,  although  there 


SECOND  MABRIAOE  AND  SIEGFRIED  IDYL     245 

were  some  hisses  mingled  with  the  plaudits.  The  inno- 
vation of  a  lowered  orchestra  (partially  after  Wagner's 
plans);  which  had  been  introduced  at  the  Kheingold  per- 
formance,  benefited  the  Walkure  also.^  The  usual  parody, 
of  course,  made  its  appearance,  imder  the  title  of  Kein- 
gold  (No  gold).  Regarding  the  issue  of  these  Munich 
performances,  Wagner  himself  says  (IX.  373),  "I  have 
not  learned  the  details,  as  my  friends  imderstood  that 
my  feelings  must  be  spared." 

SECOND  MABBIA6B  AKD  8IEGFBIED  IDYL 

The  marriage  of  Hans  von  Billow  to  Cosima  Liszt  had 
not  been  a  happy  one.  In  a  letter  dated  1864  Wagner 
referred  to  it  as  "tragic,''  as  the  reader  will  remember. 
The  two  were  divorced  in  the  autumn  of  1869,  and  on 
Aug.  26,  1870,  Cosima  was  married  to  Wagner.  There 
were  difficulties  to  overcome,  involving  the  necessity  of 
a  change  of  religious  profession  on  the  part  of  the  woman. 
In  the  meantime  Wagner  followed  the  example  of  Liszt, 
of  Goethe,  and  other  European  men  of  genius  —  an  ex- 
ample the  ethics  of  which  this  is  not  the  place  to  discuss. 
Some  of  his  friends  apparently  did  not  approviB  of  his 
second  marriage,  as  may  be  inferred  from  this  brief  note 
to  Praeger,  dated  July,  1870:  "You  will  no  doubt  be 
angry  with  me  when  you  hear  that  I  am  soon  to  marry 
Billow's  wife,  who  has  become  a  convert  in  order  to  be 
divorced."  More  light  on  the  situation  is  thrown  by 
these  extracts  from  a  letter  to  Frau  Wille,  dated  June 
25,1870:  — 

^  Fuller  accounts  of  these  Rheingold  and  WcUkUre  performanoes  may 
be  foond  In  Pohl's  yolnme  of  essays. 


246  FBOM  MUyiCB  TO  BATEBUTB 

"  Certamly  we  sbaJl  come,  for  fou  are  to  be  the  firal  to  whom 
we  shall  present  ourselTeB  ae  man  and  wife.  To  get  into  thU  sUte, 
great  patience  wae  reqaired:  what  hu  been  for  yeara  inevitable, 
WEi«  not  to  be  brought  about  until  after  all  manner  of  suffering. 
Since  last  I  aaw  you  in  Munich,  1  have  not  again  left  my  asylum, 
which,  in  the  meanwhile,  has  also  become  the  refuge  of  her  who 
was  destined  to  prove  that  1  could  well  he  helped,  and  that  the 
axiom  of  roanj  oC  m;  friends,  that  I  '  could  not  be  helped '  was 
false  I  .She  knew  that  I  could  be  helped,  and  has  helped  me :  she 
haB  defied  every  disapprohalion  and  taken  upon  herself  every  con- 
demnation. She  has  borne  to  me  a  wonderfully  beautiful  and 
vigorous  bo)-,  ulioui  I  could  boldly  call  '  Siegfried '  :  he  is  now 
growing,  together  with  my  woik,  and  giTM  me  a  new,  long  life, 
which  at  hut  has  attained  ameMtfng.  Thus  we  got  along  without 
the  world,  from  which  we  had  retired  enUiely.  .  .  .  Bat  now 
listen ;  you  will,  1  trust,  Kg^mm  of  the  aentlment  which  leads  tia 
to  postpone  our  visit  until  I  oan  IntndDoe  to  yon  the  mother  of  m^ 
son  as  my  wedded  wife.  This  will  soon  be  the  case,  and  before  the 
leaves  fait  we  hope  to  be  In  Hailafeld," 

It  was  in  honor  of  Siegfried,  and  to  celebrate  his 
mother's  birtliday,  tliat  Wagner  wrote  his  exquisite 
Siegfried  Idyl.  It  was  composed  secretly,  and  the  first 
performance  was  a  surprise  to  Cosiina,  Hans  Eichter 
brought  the  necessary  musicians  from  Zurich  and  re- 
hearsed the  piece  with  them  at  Lucerne.  On  the  morn- 
ing of  the  birthday  the  musicians  placed  themselves  on 
the  steps  of  the  villa  at  Triebschen,  Wagner  conducted, 
and  Bicliter  took  the  trumpet  part.  It  was  a  serenade 
such  as  no  other  mortal  has  ever  been  honored  with. 
The  Siegfried  Idyl  is  a  piece  not  only  of  ravishing  musi- 
cal beauty,  but  it  breathes  a  spirit  of  refinement,  of 
delicacy,  of  tenderness  which  alone  would  suffice  to 
refute  all  the  aspersions  on  Wagner's  character;  no  one 
but  a  man  whose  inmost  nature  is  love  and  kindness 


80H0PXNEAUEE  AND  WAONMR  247 

could  have  penned  such  an  IdyL  And  with  such  simple 
means  tool  If  Wagner,  in  his  tragedies,  asks  for  an 
orchestra  of  from  sixty  to  one  hundred,  he  has  his  rea- 
sons for  it.  In  the  Siegfried  Idyl  he  has  shown  that  he 
can  write  music  as  tender  and  melodious  as  Schubert's, 
and  as  full  of  the  most  exquisite  color  as  any  part  of  his 
own  music-dramas,  with  a  diminutive  orchestra  consist- 
ing only  of  strings,  woodwind,  one  trumpet,  and  two 
horns. 

The  principal  themes  are  taken  from  the  Siegfiied 
score,  which  he  was  completing  at  that  time;  these  he 
turns  over  and  over  in  various  combinations  and  colors 
till  they  flash  and  sparkle  like  a  string  of  gems.  An 
old  German  cradle-song,  Schlafe  Eindchenj  is  also  used 
as  a  theme.  The  innocence  and  happiness  of  child  life 
have  never  been  mirrored  as  in  this  Idyl.  It  is  not 
merely  an  orchestral  cradle-song;  it  is  the  embodiment 
of  love,  paternal  and  conjugal.  But  how  few  conductors 
and  orchestras  are  able  to  bring  out  all  the  tenderness, 
beauty,  and  color  of  this  simple  piece!  It  was  not 
originally  intended  for  publication,  and  for  a  number 
of  years  the  composer  reserved  it  as  a  special  treat  for 
his  personal  friends.  In  1878  the  score  was  published 
by  Schott,  with  Frau  Gosima's  permission. 

SCHOPENHAUER  AND  WAGNEB 

Why  is  &me  and  even  subsistence  usually  denied  to 
men  of  genius  by  their  contemporaries?  To  this  ques- 
tion Professor  Lombroso  replies  in  his  work  The  Man  of 
Oenius:  ''The  reason  is  that .  .  .  men  of  genius  are 
lacking  in  taot^  in  moderation,  in  the  sense  of  practical 


248  FROM  MUSICH  TO  BATBEUTB 

life,  in  the  virtues  which  aJone  are  useful  in  soci&l 
affairs."  At  the  period  we  have  now  reached,  Richard 
Wagner  gave  repeated  evidence  of  such  lack  of  tact  and 
moderation.  When  his  Meiatersinger  was  making  its 
way  across  Germany,  and  when  it  would  have  been  wise 
to  keep  his  opinions  in  the  background  and  let  that  glo- 
rious music  plead  for  him,  what  does  he  do  but  reprint 
his  old  pamphlet  on  Judaism  in  Music,  with  aggravating 
additions,  although  he  knew  that  the  German  press  was 
practically  in  the  hands  of  the  Jews;  and  shortly  after- 
wards he  launched  his  pamphlet  On  Cojuiucling,  which  is 
a  variation  on  the  same  theme  — a  criticism  of  the  Jew- 
ish Mendelssohnian  way  of  interpreting  the  German 
classics.  It  was  a  courageous  thing  to  do,  but  unwise 
from  his  personal  point  of  view;  for  he  must  have 
known  that  the  storm  of  protestation  aroused  by  his 
action  would  take  the  coarse  of  renewed  attacks  on  his 
music,  his  theories,  and  his  personality.  The  violence 
of  this  atorm  may  be  inferred  from  the  fact  that,  accord- 
ing to  Glaaenapp,  at  least  170  replies  to  the  Judaism 
pamphlet  were  published.  It  is  true  that  Wagner  could 
have  had  no  idea  that  his  new  pamphlets  would  start 
such  a  cyclone,  since  most  of  their  predecessors  had  been 
received  in  almost  complete  silence.  But  there  is  no 
reason  to  believe  that  he  would  have  acted  otiierwise 
had  he  expected  the  tornado.  Reformers  are  never 
diplomatic. 

An  essay  of  quite  another  sort  followed,  in  the  month 
after  his  marriage  —  the  remarkable  treatise  on  Beetho- 
ven (IX.  77-151),  which  was  written  as  a  contribution  to 
the  celebration  of  the  centenary  of  that  composer's  birth, 
On  the  glowing  tributes  to  Beethoven's  genius  contained 


therein 

in  this 

Philoeophj  of  M-nsie  aikc  mdnfOi  n  ^ 

Strange  ^et ;  for  &:M]Matfdnier  mm  m. 

mnsicy  and  most  of  his  opixikais  s^sst^  djMuevrjSfclt^  %^ 

posed  to  Wa^xMT' c.    Wtr  wJipxi  moL  uf  tM-  «'jmo^  tua^x 

in  one  sentenee:  Tl«e  flute  vnc  ii»  yis  umaum^gar.  «sc 

Rossini  his  izroribt  ttoauyftrnx.    Uimt  nn;  ^  V99  ^  tm 

funny  opinions:  — 

•*  Mdodj  Is  tke 
grsTj  to  rossi  ssa 
music).    ^  The  kn^Mi  dnstiMC.  sif 
"The  c 
the  text  k,  tf  Mt  mahmw,  m 


MfeA    «V-^^4 


iv^     <^ 


Haw  eovltd  Wh^mt  pjam  tn^  imuu^  <f  «^.«e 
siead  phflosojwier  ol   Uit   Jbi«^i/<^%^    •ow»^f'      b<c»<^4#» 

the   S^i^KVriJ    lif    fc    lliUb«<rxiil         ^<>;t/i<liii|r    V,    \;jt    |r^i«s^. 

pewmdsi.  muii'iV  suoiot  i&;ito^  Ir'./u.  4^1     f^t;^'  4»^>    ^s;^. 

cL'xise  to  gire  it.  Ota«ef  airtt.  ij^  «tjnL  ^.■*<t  wt  <^jr 
sLadovVy  vLile  imisk  ^^r^^e  ut  tu^  ^^i^^^ru^^.  Tia  iM» 
goage  of  mnsie  is  iicttrJli^^j^  ^rr^rririii^f^.  ;iitft  m  mu^  fi^^ 
emotional  eries  of  ajb^xuti.  tf  /ij-  7\'i*$M;  ix^^»y%xyfb^^ 
speenlatioiis,  tLe  crud^  ykyti^^'*"/^-  v5  w::«<;i  tnjt  ie  uus 
the  plaee  to  ex{m«y  W^i^sk;!  Mki}^  is4^  «uitf|^  fq^M^ 


J 


250  FROM  UnmCB  TO  BATREVTH 

combining  thein  with  Schopenhauer's  unscientific  and 
ridiculous  somnaiubulisin  -  and  ■  uiglitmare  ■  speculations, 
and  with  their  aid  endeavors  to  explain  the  phenomena 
of  musical  inspiration  and  Beethoven's  genius  in  partic* 
ular.  Fortunately  only  a  portion  of  his  Beethoven  essay 
is  devoted  to  such  nebulous  stuff;  the  rest  of  it  is  very 
suggestive  and  valuable  reading  matter;  especially  the 
remarks  on  musical  form,  on  the  emotional  characteris- 
tics of  tieetlioven's  symphonies,  and  on  the  sublime 
ver»ii3  the  beautiful. 

Apart  from  the  fundamental  metaphysical  doctrine 
just  referred  to,  there  is  absolutely  no  point  of  musical 
contact  between  Schopenhauer  and  Wagner.  In  the 
poems,  too,  the  influence  of  Schopenhauer  is  much  less 
apparent  than  the  commentators  have  assumed.  The 
letter  to  Lifizt  in  which  he  Krst  "cntliuses  "  over  his  dis- 
covery of  Schopenhauer  is  dated  at  a  time  when  the 
Nibelung  poems  were  already  written.  In  Triatan,  as 
we  have  seen,  there  is  less  of  Schopenhauer  than  of  pan- 
theism, which  that  philosopher,  in  fact,  repudiates.  In 
the  Meistershiger  the  "  Walin  "  monologue  of  Sachs  might 
perhaps  be  referred  to  a  page  (II.  693)  of  Die  WeU  alt 
Wille  und  Vorstellung,  but  that  is  a  mere  trifle.  Scho- 
penhauer's principal  idea  —  the  Negation  of  the  Will  to 
Live  —  was  not  new  to  Wagner  (see  No.  IfiS  of  the  Liszt 
letters),  and  the  only  point  in  which  Schopenhauer's 
influence  seems  really  conspicuous  is  the  ethical  idea  of 
I'ity,  which  underlies  Parsifal  ("  Through  I'ity  enlight- 
ened, the  guileless  fool "),  although  in  liviinnliilde's  con- 
duct we  had  before  met  with  this  ethical  motive  in  a 
dramatic  form.  In  Letter  190  to  Liszt  Wagner  gives  a 
synopsis  of  Schopenhauer's  views  on  Pity,  the  Negation 


I 


SCHOPENHAUEB  AND   WAQNSB  251 

of  the  Willy  etc.  9  which  would  en3ure  any  college  senior 
a  high  mark  in  an  examination  in  the  history  of  philoso- 
phy; but  it  has  not  the  directness  and  vivid  imagery 
of  the  original,  or  of  his  own  writings  on  music  and  the 
drama.  In  philosophy  Wagner  was  almost  as  much  of 
an  amateur  as  Schopenhauer  was  in  music;  and  the  dis- 
position which  is  at  present  being  shown  by  some  fanatic 
admirers  in  (jermany  to  worship  him  as  a  great  philoso- 
pher,  is  absurd. 

What  did  Schopenhauer  think  of  Wagner?  When, 
in  1854,  Wagner  printed  a  few  copies  of  the  Nibelung 
poems  for  private  circulation,  a  copy  was  sent  to  Scho- 
penhauer, who  refers  to  it  in  a  letter  to  Frauenstedt  ^  as 

**  a  book  from  Richard  Wagner,  which  is  not  in  the  market,  but 
was  printed  for  friends  only,  on  superb  thick  paper,  and  neatly 
bound;  it  is  caUed  the  Bing  des  Nibelungen,  is  a  series  of  four 
operas  which  he  intends  some  day  to  set  to  music,  — probably  the 
real  art- work  of  the  future ;  appears  to  be  very  fantastic ;  have  read 
only  the  Vorspiel :  shall  continue.  No  letter  with  it,  but  only  the 
dedication  From  Admiration  and  Oratitude.^^ 

A  few  years  ago  a  Berlin  journalist  came  across  this 
copy  and  found  a  considerable  number  of  pencil  marks 
in  it,  suggesting  improvements  (Wagner  himself  made 
many  changes  in  the  revised  version)  and  objecting  to 
certain  archaic  and  musical  expressions;  for  Schopen- 
hauer was  a  most  pedantic  purist  in  linguistic  matters, 
and  forgot,  or  did  not  know,  that  Groethe  uses  such 
archaic  expressions  much  more  freely  than  Wagner, 
although  in  a  music-drama  they  are  very  much  more 
justifiable  than  in  a  purely  literary  poem.     One  awk- 

1  MemorabUien,  p.  696. 


252  FROM  UUNWB  TO  BATBEUTB 

ward  word  leads  him  to  comment:  "He  has  no  ears,  the 

deaf  musician."  He  objects  to  the  close  of  the  first  act 
of  Die  Watkilre,  and  wrote  after  the  words  "The  curtain 
drops  quickly"  " Denn  es  ist  kohe  Zeit."  Siegfried  has 
the  fewest  marks,  and  as  a  whole  the  poema  seem  to 
have  impressed  him  favorably;  for,  as  Wagner  one  day 
exclaimed  to  Frau  Wills,  whose  husband  met  Schopen- 
hauer every  year  at  Frankfurt:  — 

"  Do  you  remember  the  greeting  he  once  brought  me  from  Scho- 
peiiliauer  ?  '  TpI!  your  friend  Wagner  that  I  thank  him  for  his 
book,  but  he  sliould  give  up  musio ;  he  has  more  genlua  for  poetry. 
I,  Schopenhauer,  remain  faithful  to  Bossinl  and  Mozart.'  Do  you 
fancy,"  added  Wagner,  "tbat  I  bore  (he  philosopher  any  grudge 
forthlH?" 

He  did  not;  indeed,  in  this  matter  he  showed  himself 
the  greater  man  of  the  two:  he  was  able  to  appreciate 
Schopenhauer,  which  was  more  than  Schopenhauer  could 
do  for  him. 

A  FOOLISH  LIBRETTO 

One  of  the  weak  points  of  Wagner's  character  was  his 
inclination  to  meddle  with  politics.  One  would  have 
thought  that  his  Dresden  experiences,  resulting  in  almost 
thirteen  years'  banishment  from  the  only  country  where 
his  art  could  have  prospered  at  the  time,  might  have 
cured  him  of  that  weakness.  But  no!  He  must  "put 
his  foot  into  it "  again,  and  make  France  as  impossible 
for  himself  as  he  had  previously  made  Germany.  In 
1868  he  wasted  some  of  his  precious  time  on  a  tedious 
essay  of  over  a  hundred  pages,  entitled  Oerman  Art  and 
Oerman  Politics  (VIII.  41-158).  The  fact  that  it  first 
appeared  as  a  series  of  feuilleton  articles  in  a  newspaper 


A  FOOLISH  LIBRETTO  268 

founded  by  his  friend  Eoeckel,  partly  accounts  for  its 
rambling  character.  It  contains  a  few  lucid  and  sugges- 
tive pages,  but  as  a  whole  none  but  a  robust  German 
stomach  could  digest  its  turgid,  metaphysical  phraseol- 
ogy; besides,  it  touches  on  questions  of  stat^,  church, 
school,  etc.,  which  had  only  a  local  and  temporary  inter- 
est. The  principal  theme  of  the  essay,  however,  is  an 
attack  on  France,  or  rather  on  the  subjugation  of  Ger- 
many by  French  taste.  He  shows  how  the  French  form 
of  civilization  had  prevailed  for  centuries  in  Germany, 
where  it  was  exclusively  fostered  by  the  princes,  while 
German  literature  and  art  languished  and  owed  their 
very  existence  only  to  the  heroic  efforts  of  a  few  men 
of  genius.  This  French  influence  Wagner  objects  to 
and  pleads  that  an  original  German  civilization  should 
take  its  place.  In  his  main  position  he  was  no  doubt 
right;  the  French  fashions  and  the  French  ways  as 
copied  by  the  Germans  necessarily  resulted  in  a  mere 
caricature,  and  he  knew  that  the  Germans  were  capable 
of  something  better  if  they  would  only  try  to  be  original. 
But  in  some  of  the  details  he  allowed  his  pen  to  run 
away  with  his  tact  in  a  way  that  might  have  angered  the 
French  had  they  been  likely  to  read  such  a  rambling 
and  ponderous  essay.  His  incidental  remarks  on  FavMy 
for  instance,  made  Gounod  his  mortal  enemy,  although, 
if  Gounod  had  been  able  to  read  German,  he  might  have 
seen  that  these  remarks  were  aimed  not  so  much  at  his 
music  as  at  the  libretto,  of  which  Berlioz,  too,  has  said 
that  "  it  destroys  admirable  musical  situations  which  one 
ought  to  have  invented  if  Goethe  himself  had  not  in- 
vented them.'* 
The  subject  of  this  essay  was  evidently  still  ferment- 


254  FROM  nuyica  to  batssuth 

iug  iu  Wagner's  brain,  when  two  years  later  the  German 
army  besieged  Paris.  At  last  there  was  a  hope  that  if 
Germany  should  wiu  in  tbe  war  she  would  tlirow  otf 
Jier  artificial  imitation  of  tbe  French  in  art  and  manners. 
Ill  the  joy  which  this  thought  inspired  he  hastily  wrote 
down,  in  a  very  few  days,  towards  the  end  of  1870,  the 
libretto  for  a  musical  burlesque  A  la  Offenbach  which  he 
called  A  Capitulation  (IX.  7-50).  A  young  musician 
who  had  promised  to  set  it  to  music,  seemed  relieved 
when  tlie  libretto  was  refused  by  the  theatre  managers. 
And,  indeed,  it  deserved  such  a  rebuff,  for  it  is  one  of 
the  stupidest  libretti  ever  concocted,  and  it  seems  almost 
incredible  that  the  author  of  that  masterwork  of  humor, 
Die  MeisleTsinger,  should  have  penned  it.  Tbe  charac- 
ters are  Victor  Hugo,  Jnles  Favre,  Ferry,  Simon,  Qam- 
betta,  Offenbach,  Perrin,  etc.  Balloons  play  a  great  rflle 
in  the  piece ;  one  of  the  choruses  consists  of  monstrous 
rats  which  are  afterwards  changed  into  ballet  girls.  The 
quality  of  the  jokes  may  be  inferred  from  this  pun: 
Mottu  cries  "a  present:  jurez!"  to  which  Keller  re- 
plies, "Schur6  is  not  here."  At  the  close,  Victor  Hugo 
has  a  long  address  in  which  he  declares  that  "as  enemies 
you  shall  not  take  Paris,  but  we  will  make  you  a  present 
of  it" — of  its  cafes,  restaurants,  bal  MabiUe,  Myst^res 
de  Paris,  poudre  de  riz,  chignons,  etc.  In  the  last 
chorus  the  lutendants  of  the  German  theatres  take  part; 
they  dance  awkwar<Uy,  and  are  laughed  at.  And  of  such 
silly  things  the  whole  burlesque  is  made  up. 

Obviously,  as  an  imitator  of  Offenbach's  librettists 
Wagner  was  no  more  successful  than  Offenbach  himself 
would  have  been  as  the  composer  of  Parsifal.  At  the 
same  time  it  must  be  said  that,  foolish  as  Wagner's 


A  FOOLISH  LIBRETTO  2» 

libretto  is,  it  is  not  half  as  foolish  as  the  foss  which  the 
French  chauvinists  made  over  it  for  more  than  twentr 
years.  Just  as  a  lot  of  ill-bred  members  of  the  "  aris- 
tocracy ''  in  1861  prevented  Paris  from  hearing  Tami- 
hdusery  so  during  the  twenty-one  years  following  the 
appearance  of  A  Capitulation  every  effort  to  produce 
another  Wagner  opera  in  Paris  was  frustrated  by  a  band 
of  gamins  and  chauvinists,  in  spite  of  protests  by  all 
reasonable  people,  by  the  united  Press,  and  the  declara- 
tion of  the  Figaro  that  such  conduct  was  evidence  not  of 
patriotism  but  of  patriotitis.  How  the  Parisians  were 
meanwhile  hungering  for  a  Wagner  opera  may  be  in- 
ferred from  the  eloquent  fact  that  when  hoiktnqrin  was 
finally  produced  at  the  Grand  Op^ra,  under  police  protec- 
tion, on  Sept.  16,  1891,  it  attained,  in  the  course  of  the 
first  year  (ending  Sept.  15,  1891),  as  many  as  sixty-tnie 
performances,  the  highest  receipts  being  23^000  franca, 
the  lowest  14,300,  and  the  total  1,097,320  francs  and 
51  centimes.^  If  the  Grand  Op^ra  took  in  $219,464  in 
one  year,  with  one  of  W£^;ner's  operas,  how  much  has 
it  lost  by  waiting  exactly  half  a  century,  from  the  first 
performance,  before  it  listened  to  one  of  these  ope- 
ras?* All  this  loss  in  money  and  pleasure  was  occa- 
sioned by  the  foolish  Capitulation^  the  chief  point  of 
which,  moreover,  —  and  this  is  the  only  amusing  part  of 
the  whole  farce,  —  was  directed  not  against  the  French, 
but  against  the  Germans,  especially  the  Crerman  theatre- 
managers  I  As  Wagner  himself  remarks  in  the  pref- 
ace: — 

1  These  fignret  are  official.  I  owe  them  to  the  oonrteqr  ot  the  Dine- 
tion  des  Beaux  Arte. 

*  Apart  from  the  eleyen  inadeqiiate  performances  of  Bienxi  givin  la 
1M9  by  Fasdelonp  (and  which  were  followed  by  a  parody  iUsn). 


256  FROU  MUNICS  TO  BAYBEVTH 

"  My  subject  Muchea  on  no  other  aide  o(  the  French  than  one  by 
the  lUimiination  of  nhlch  we  Germans  are  really  mirrored  In  a 
much  more  ridiculous  light  than  the  French,  who,  in  all  their 
follies,  are  at  least  original,  wbereae  wc,  in  our  disgueting  Imitation 
of  them,  Bink  for  below  the  level  of  the  lodiorous." 

lu  re^^ard  to  the  charge  of  meanDess  in  aiming  such  a 
burlesque  at  a  fallen  enemy,  it  must  be  remembered  that 
it  was  written  during  the  aiege,  before  its  issue  was 
decided.  Moreover,  as  Serviferes  remarks,  the  raillery 
ooncerna  chiefly  the  govemment  of  the  D^ense  Na- 
tionale,  adding:  — 

"  It  would  have  been  tnily  too  mneh  to  Bsk  of  a  sttftnger  to  whom 
we  had,  in  a  very  dlegiaceful  manner,  given  cauae  ol  complaint 
■gaiuHt  UB,  more  reserve  and  good  taste  thftu  of  an  editor  of  the 
Pigarn  or  the  Vie  parisienne.  Thus  what  mas  legitimate  in  a 
frlToloua  French  paper  became  monstrooa,  Ignoble,  ajid  revolting 
under  the  pen  of  an  hunlled  Qeiman,  exalted  by  the  triumph  of 
his  countrymen." ' 

KAI8BRMARSCH  AND  FOREIGN  CONQUEaTS 

Great  as  wa^  Wagner's  patriotism,  it  did  Dot  lead  him 
to  magnify  the  merits  of  things  German  unduly.  He 
cheerfully  conceded  the  superiority  of  the  Marseillaise 
to  the  Watch  onthe  Rhine  as  a  patriotic  song;  indeed,  he 
expressed  liia  surprise  that  the  German  army  should  have 
returned  again  and  again  for  inspiration  to  what  he  calls 
a  rather  commonplace  song  —  ein  ziemlich  Jlauea  LiedeT' 

1  There  are  soma  other  very  sensible  remarlts  on  this  topic  in  8er- 
vifirea'a  Wagnir  Jugt  en  f  rancB,  a  book  whieb  gives  a  muph  more  inter- 
esting uccount  of  Wafer's  relations  Co  France  tban  Jullien's  biography. 
He  dwells  especially  on  the  inconslsteney  of  bis  counlrymen  In  con- 
stantly maldng  tun  of  tbe  OermaDB,  aud  then  getting  furioue  when  onc« 
a  Oerman  turns  the  tables  on  them. 


KAISEBMABSCH  AND  FOBEIQN  CONQUESTS     257 

tafel-product,  "which  the  French  took  for  one  of  those 
Rhine-wine  songs  they  had  before  made  fun  of 

These  comments  are  made  in  an  essay  entitled  What  ia 
Oerman,  which  was  written  in  1878.  They  are  followed 
by  this  interesting  explanation  of  the  circumstances 
under  which  the  Kaisermarach  was  written. 

**  After  the  return  of  oar  victorious  army,  I  made  private  inqui- 
ries in  Berlin  whetlier,  in  case  a  grand  ceremonial  in  honor  of  the 
fallen  soldiers  were  projected,  I  could  be  permitted  to  provide  a 
piece  suited  to  such  a  solemn  occasion.  But  I  was  told  that  it  was 
not  considered  desirable  to  make  special  provision  for  painful  im- 
pressions to  accompany  the  joyous  return  of  the  army.  I  proposed, 
still  privately,  another  piece,  which  was  to  accompany  the  entrance 
of  the  army,  and  into  which,  at  the  close,  — say  in  defiling  before 
the  victorious  monarch,  —  the  excellent  vocal  corps  of  the  Prussian 
army  might  join  with  some  popular  melody.  But  this  would  have 
necessitated  serious  changes  in  the  arrangements  that  had  been 
completed  long  before,  and  I  was  dissuaded  from  my  project.  Con- 
sequently I  arranged  my  Kaisermarsch  for  the  concert-hall,  for 
which  let  it  be  adapted  as  well  as  may  be.** 

In  plain  English,  he  had  been  snubbed  again.  What 
had  he  to  do  with  the  German  triumph  —  he  whom 
almost  all  the  music  professors  and  critics  united  in  pro- 
nouncing a  charlatan?  He  then  lacked  but  three  years 
of  sixty;  but  the  Grermans,  as  a  nation,  had  not  yet  the 
remotest  conception  that  his  mind  had  given  birth  to 
ideas  which,  more  than  the  ideas  of  any  other  German 
brain  of  this  century,  were  destined  to  spread  the  glory 
of  German  art  throughout  the  world.  They  did  not 
anticipate  that  he  would  be  the  first  to  introduce  Ger- 
man opera  successfully  in  foreign  countries;  that  ''Ger- 
man Opera,"  in  fact,  was  soon  to  be  synonymous  with 
"Wagner  Opera," as  it  has  been  lately  in  New  York  and 
London. 


258  FROM  MUNICH   TO   BAYREUTB 

Tlie  iiiv.iaioit  of  foreign  comiti-ies  began  about  that 
time.  Russia  had  heard  Lohengrin  in  1867;  Brussels 
followed  with  the  same  opera  three  years  later;  London 
had  its  first  heai-ing  of  a  Wagoer  opera  —  Flying  Dutch- 
man with  Santley  —  in  1870;  Lohengrin  followed  in 
1875,  with  two  simultaneous  companies,  one  of  which 
included  Nilason,  Campanini,  and  Tietjens;  TannhHuser 
in  1876,  Madrid  did  not  hear  a  Wagner  opera  till  1876, 
while  Italy  heard  Lohengrin  as  early  as  1869.  It  was  at 
Bologna,  which  for  the  time  became  a  sort  of  Italian 
Bayreuth  to  which  visitors  came  from  all  over  the  penin- 
sula.' Wagner  was  made  an  honorary  citizen  of  Bologna, 
and  wrote  a  letter  to  BoTto  expressing  his  gratification. 

In  the  meantime  he  remained  iu  his  Triebschen  re- 
treat, devoted  to  the  composition  of  the  OSIferdiimme- 
rung,  the  first  act  of  which  was  completed  in  1870.  One 
of  his  tasks  of  the  years  1871-3  waa  to  collect  his  varions 
essays,  poems,  newspaper  articles,  and  public  letters 
into  a  series  of  volumes,  arranged  chronologically.  Nine 
of  these  volumes  had  appeared  in  1873;  a  tenth  was 
added  after  his  death. 

tausig's  happy  thodght 

As  the  last  drama  of  the  Nibelung  Tetralogy  was 
making  rapid  progress,  the  plan  for  an  adequate  perform- 
ance of  this  gigantic  work  began  to  engross  his  thoughts 
more  and  more.  When  King  Ludwig  had  asked  him  to 
resume  its  composition,  he  had  been  filled  with  joy,  for 
J  to  be  then  no  doubt  that  everything  would 


TAUaiO'S  HAPPY  THOUGHT  259 

be  done  in  accordance  with  his  wishes.  But  the  Philis- 
tines who  had  hitherto  thwarted  his  efforts  proved  too 
much  even  for  a  king.  The  foolish  Munichers  drove 
him  out  of  their  city;  a  local  professor  declared  that  he 
ought  to  be  hanged;  the  leading  paper ^  had  said:  ''We 
are,  with  many  experts,  of  the  opinion  that  with  the  first 
stone  [of  the  Wagner  theatre]  the  foundation  of  a  ruin 
would  be  laid." 

What  fools  these  mortals  were!  No  one  who  has  been 
in  Munich  can  look  at  the  picture  of  Semper's  model 
theatre,  in  the  BayreuJther  Festbl&tter,  without  acknowl- 
edging that  it  would  have  been  the  greatest  architectural 
ornament  of  that  art-city,  in  the  commanding  site  across 
the  bridge,  where  the  ungainly  Maximilianeum  now 
stands.  A ''ruin"  indeed!  The  receipts  of  the  Bay- 
reuth  festivals  of  1891  and  1892  —  the  eighth  and  ninth 
—  averaged  about  $150,000  each,  and  the  annual  visitors 
numbered  about  25,000.  If  each  of  these  spent  only 
ten  dollars,  besides  the  price  of  his  tickets,  the  Bay- 
reuthers  profited  a  million  marks  a  year;  but  twice  that 
sum  would  come  nearer  the  mark.  It  was  the  project 
of  building  this  "  ruinous  "  Wagner  theatre  in  Munich 
that  had  brought  to  a  climax  the  machinations  which 
led  to  Wagner's  expulsion.  As  for  bringing  out  the 
Tetralogy  at  the  Court  Theatre,  that  also  seemed  out  of 
the  question,  after  the  maltreatment  of  Rheingold  in 
spite  of  the  King's  wishes  and  positive  orders.  Other 
cities  were  even  less  available.  In  Vienna,  Tristan  had 
been  put  aside  as  "  impossible  "  after  two  years'  rehears- 
als, and  Die  Meistersinger  refused  because  it  was  "  Offen- 
bach's turn."    In  Berlin  even  Tannhatiser  had  required 

^  Allgemeine  Ztitung,  Jan.  26, 1867. 


260  FRO.V  MUNWa  TO  BATREUTH 

ten  years  tu  piiss  quarantiDe,  Tristan  was  yet  uulieard, 
though  it  had  been  available  for  more  than  a  decade; 
and  when  as  late  as  1873  Wagner  offered  to  bring  out 
Lohengrin  there  without  euts,  the  matter  was  after  soma 
consideration  dropped  because  it  was,  in  plain  langu^e, 
"too  much  bother."  In  Dresden,  too,  the  authoritiei 
were  hostile;  and  in  the  smaller  cities  he  could  not 
expect  to  find  a  theatre  and  singers  such  as  he  needed. 
Evidently  a  radical  measure  was  ealleji  for.  He  re- 
verted to  his  original  idea  of  1851,  of  building  a  special 
theatre  on  the  Rhine,  or  elsewhere,  for  a  Nibelung 
Festival.  A  plan  as  gigantic  as  the  work  to  be  pro- 
duced; but  Wagner,  like  his  hero  Siegfried,  had  never  I 
learned  the  meaning  of  the  word /ear,  and  he  boldly  pro-  I 
ceeded  toward  his  Ideal,  in  spite  of  Philistines,  news- 
papers, and  other  dragons,  whose  extraordinary  antics 
will  be  noticed  presently.  But  where  get  the  means  for 
such  an  enterprise?  It  costs  a  small  fortune  to  bring 
out  a  new  opera  —  and  here  were  four  new  ones,  and  a 
special  theatre  to  be  built  in  addition  1  He  communi- 
cated his  intentions  at  first  to  a  few  friends  only,  and 
one  of  these,  the  brilliant  young  pianist,  Tausig,  had  a 
happy  thought,  inspired  by  his  glowing  enthusiasm  for 
the  MeiMer.  He  conceived,  and,  with  the  aid  of  the 
Baroness  Marie  von  Schleinitz,  elaborated,  the  plan  of 
a  Society  of  Patrons  for  collecting  the  Nibelung  Festival 
funds.  This  plan  was  adopted  by  Wagner  and  briefly 
described  by  him  in  a  public  address  to  his  friends,  dated 
May  12,  1871 ;  — 

"  The  total  expense  of  the  preparations  and  performancea  of  the 
stage-(estival-play,  The  Nibflung'a  Sing,  are  estimated  at  300,000 
thalera  [about  $225,000].    This  sum  is  to  be  provided  by  diapoalug 


TAUSIQ'S  HAPPY  THOUGHT  261 

of  one  thousand  certificates  of  membership,  at  800  thalexs  each, 
among  friends  and  patrons  of  this  national  project.  The  possession 
of  such  a  certificate  entitles  the  holder  to  a  place  for  all  the 
perfonnances.  Any  patron  is  at  liberty  to  secure  several  of  these 
certificates ;  it  is  also  permissible  for  three  persons  to  participate  in 
one  of  the  certificates,  each  of  them  thereby  acquiring  the  right  to 
a  seat  at  one  of  the  performances  of  the  festival-play." 

Strange  fatality!  Hardly  had  Tausig,  with  a  zeal 
that  could  not  have  been  greater  had  the  cause  been  his 
own,  taken  the  first  steps  towards  aiding  his  friend  (he 
intended,  among  other  things,  to  form  a  special  orches- 
tra, for  benefit  performances  and  to  be  used  later  at  the 
festival),  when  typhoid  fever  carried  him  off  at  the  early 
age  of  thirty.  It  was  a  sad  blow  to  Wagner;  he  had 
lost  his  most  intimate  friends,  Uhlig  and  Schnorr,  in 
the  flower  of  their  youth;  and  now  Tausig  followed,  and 
nothing  remained  but  to  write  his  epitaph  and  eulogy 
(IX.  385-6).  The  pen  revolts  at  relating  the  indecen- 
cies of  Wagner's  enemies :  even  this  epitaph  was  brutally 
parodied  by  one  of  them! 

A  new  champion  had  meanwhile  come  forward.  Emil 
Meckel,^  of  Mannheim,  having  expressed  his  desire  to 
assist  Wagner,  was  referred  to  Tausig,  and  with  his  con- 
sent he  proposed  the  formation  of  Wagner  Societies,  to 
enable  persons  of  limited  means  to  take  part  in  the  work 
of  collecting  funds.  Having  returned  to  Mannheim, 
Heckel  formed  the  first  Wagner  Society,  in  June,  1871. 
Members  had  to  pay  an  annual  due  of  five  florins,  in  re- 

^  To  Heckel  Wagner  wrote  over  sixty  letters,  in  the  years  following, 
mostly  relating  to  Bayrenth.  His  son,  Karl  Heckel,  has  ntilized  these 
letters  for  a  brief  history  of  the  Bayrenth  festivals,  printed  in  Kiirsch- 
ner's  Wagner  Jahrbuch,  1886  (167-196) ;  to  this  valuable  document  I  am 
indebted  for  many  important  details. 


262  FROM  MUNlCn   TO   BAYREUTH 


1 

t  (oT  auf  ^^1 

hirty-five    ^^H 
hereupon     ^^B 


turn  for  which  they  received  a  numbered  ticket 
number  they  chose,  at  that  rate).  For  every  thirty- 
memljers  a  Patron's  Certificate  was  bought,  whereupon 
lots  were  drawn,  and  the  fortunate  winner  had  an  oppor- 
tunity to  hear  the  Tetralogy  for  little  more  than  the 
price  of  an  ordinary  theatre  ticket,  while  the  others  had 
at  least  the  consciousness  of  having  helped  along  a  noble 
cause,  A  further  object  of  the  society  was  to  give  con- 
certa,  the  proceeds  of  which  were  also  to  be  devoted 
to  the  purchase  of  certificates  to  be  disposed  of  by  lot. 
Similar  societies  were  soon  formed  in  Vienna,  Munich,  ' 
and  Leipzig,  and  by  April,  1874,  the  number  of  societies 
hiid  grown  to  twen^-five  in  various  German  and  foreign 
cities,  including  Brussels,  London,  St.  Petersburg,  and 
New  York. 

WHY  BATEEUTH? 

The  question  as  to  where  the  Nibelung  Festival  was 
to  be  held  had  in  the  meantime  been  decided  in  favor  of 
the  quiet  old  Bavarian  town  of  Bayreuth,  which  is  situ- 
ated in  the  exact  centre  of  Germany.  Several  weighty 
reasons  determined  this  choice.  There  was  of  course 
110  lack  of  available  places;  any  German  city,  large  or 
small,  would  have  welcomed  a  scheme  which  promised 
to  bring  to  it  a  number  of  distinguished  artists  and  prof- 
itable pilgrims.  Prominent  among  the  applicants  was 
the  picturesque  Baden-Baden,  which  offered  as  a  special 
inducement  the  fact  that  a  local  audience,  large  enough 
to  fill  the  theatre  over  and  over  again,  would  be  formed 
every  summer  by  the  thousands  of  visitors  at  that  popu- 
lar resort.  But  this  was  precisely  one  of  the  things 
Wagner  wished  to  avoid.     His  festival  was  to  be  not  for 


WHY  BAYEMUTMt  36$ 

the  cnrioiUy  hungering  for  ^Mmuaemeaf;  it  w»s  to  be 
a  seriouB  aBsthetic  event  in  the  lives  of  thot»e  who  nym- 
pathized  with  his  ambition  to  lay  the  foundatiou  of  a 
national  and  original  (Jrermsai  ai%  freed  froiu  all  foreign 
admixture.     His  intention  even  was   not  to  oi£er  an/ 
seats  at  all  for  sale  to  the  general  pubJic,  but  t(;  give 
admission  solely  to  members  of  the  Wngner  Hoei^ies^ 
so  as  to  keep  out  unbidden  eritim  and  other  yhi}iMiwm, 
who,  since  this  wa«  not  to  be  a  eoum^rciMl  ^uU^ri^im, 
were  not  needed  or  desired. 

Another  resMn,  and  the  imneipul  000^,  why  the  ^fvivt 
Bayreuth  wa«  preferred  to  a  {MMbiouni/l^  t^umuiM'  Msort, 
was  that  it  belonged  to  the  Kingdotu  of  l^va/ia.    'i*h^ 
King  had  never  faltered  io  his  devotion  to  th^r  ^art-wv^ 
of  the  future,^  and  be  would  not  faiJ  U;  «x«it^ibute  hii^ 
share  toward  the  erection  of  a  U^utpk  for  it^  yr^/Vi4^  H 
wa«  to  be  within  his  realms,     Wagn«?r  hhUi^il,  in  ^ 
letter  to  Hecfcel^  sums  up  hu(  reabOiUif  I'/r  <^W^iiig  i^. 
reuth,  in  half-a^jzen  lin4:ib :  — 

'*The  place  wm  V>  be  of/  cspitiJ  wia  *«j  4«U^iii»Uyd  Ut^nuA-, 
nor  one  of  the  fnftv^miM  UiAhM,  wU'u:U  ju«ft  Ut  huJuuMH  v^'/M  'ALa 
me  a  totallj  nwUminlbUs  pu^AU; ;  H  wm  t/>  be  im:*/  Cii«  <;^'i<W^  4;^ 
Germanj,  and  a  Barariao  Wwa,  UyjiMiii;  I  iiite!#i^  4iJj»'^  e/^  t«i^  ^ 
therein  my  peimaaettt  reaideace  triiVii  I  ff j>d  I  csa  propkfi^  ^,  ,^^ 
in  Bayaria/* 

Bayreuth  had  made  a  favorable  impression  on  Wiumer 
when  he  casually  parsed  tlirougfa  it  at  a  young  nou,  i|, 
the  spring  of  1871  he  revmUid  it  for  tlie  first  tin^j^  ,^, 
officially,  to  see  if  it  would  ry^me  up  t//  hU  exiMstiUiUi^ 
On  his  way  back  to  Lucerne  lie  htop|>e/J  at  l^ivii^^^l^' 
he  conducted  his  Kai$emiar9rJi  at  a  private  coneert.  ^ 
at  Berlin,  where  he  wan  Imuiueied  soul  UmUt    At  tj 


y 


264  FltOM  MUNICH  TO  BATBEVTH 

house  of  Minister  Ton  Schleinitz  be  delivered  a  lecture 
on  the  proposed  Kibelung  Theatre,  and  a  few  days  later 
lie  conducted  a  concert  for  the  benefit  of  the  Kfinig- 
Wilhelm  Society,  at  which  his  Kaisermarsch  was  the 
novelty.  It  was  warmly  applauded  by  the  public,  but 
the  critics  mostly  echoed  the  opinion  of  a  Munich  col- 
league who  had  elegantly  characterized  this  march 
"a  piece  of  such  barbaric  rudeness,  such  impotence  in 
invention,  such  shameless  impudence  in  the  use  of  all 
conceivable  noises,  that  its  name  appears  to  us  a  blaa- 
phemy,  its  performance  before  a  civilized  public  a  coarse 
insult."  How  gently  they  cooed,  these  critics!  A 
big  canard,  too,  was  hatched  out  by  these  gentlemen; 
namely,  the  rumor  that  Wagner  had  come  to  Berlin  to^ 
try  to  secure  the  title  of  General- Music-Director.  Noth- 
ing could  have  been  &rther  from  his  intentions;  for,  as 
Fraeger  has  said,  although  he  ever  bore  himself  with 
the  consciousness  ot  superiority,  "as  for  titles  and  dec- 
orative distinctions  he  disdained  them  all.  Were  they 
not  bestowed  on  numskulls?  therefore  he  has  loudly 
proclaimed  genius  should  not  dishonor  its  lofty  intelli- 
gence in  accepting  such  baubles."  Very  likely,  if  that 
enthusiastic  Wagnerite,  William  II.,  had  been  Emperor 
then,  such  a  title  would  have  been  offered  him;  but  he 
would  have  refused  it,  even  as  he  refused  all  such 
honors  from  the  hands  of  the  King  of  Bavaria. 


LAYING  THE  COKNER-STONE 

To  reward  Mannheim  and  Vienna  for  being  the  first 
cities  to  come  to  his  assistance,  Wagner  accepted  an 
urgent  invitation  to  coSperate  at  a  series  of  "  Bayreuth  " 


I 


LATINO  THE  C0BNEB-8T0NS  265 

concerts.  The  programme  at  Mannheim  included  the 
Kaisermarsckj  of  which,  on  this  occasion,  Pohl  gave  this 
succinct  and  admirable  "  table  of  contents '' :  — 

«« Encased  in  a  coat  of  mail,  prepared  for  battle,  the  Emperor 
marchee  past  with  his  renowned  generals ;  the  people  crowd  about 
him  enthusiastically,  the  swords  glitter ;  *  A  stronghold  sure  is  our 
Lord  *  [Luther^s  Choral]  is  the  battle  cry,  which  rises  above  all  the 
din  of  battle  ;  and  in  the  folksong,  *  Hail,  hail,  the  Kaiser,^  the  song 
of  triumph  reaches  its  climax.    This  is  genuine  Qerman  music ! " 

At  the  concert  in  Vienna — which  brought  in  the  fabu- 
lous sum  of  12,000  florins  —  an  interesting  and  ominous 
incident  occurred.  A  storm  arose,  and  the  Magic  Fire 
music  was  accompanied  by  thunder  and  lightning.  At 
the  moment  when  Wotan  invokes  the  flre-god  Loge  to 
come  and  protect  the  sleeping  Valkyrie,  a  brilliant 
flash  of  lightning  lit  up  the  hall.  It  seemed  to  be  the 
moment  chosen  by  the  gods  to  show  that  henceforth  the 
much-persecuted  and  ill-fated  artist  was  to  be  under 
their  protection;  and  this  was  the  interpretation  put  on 
the  phenomenon  by  Wagner,  who  arose,  in  response  to 
deafening  applause  and  calls,  and  uttered  these  inspired 
words :. — 

**  When  the  Greeks  undertook  a  great  work,  they  invoked  Zens 
to  send  them  his  lightning,  in  token  of  his  favor.  Let  us,  too,  who 
are  united  here  in  the  desire  to  found  a  hearth  for  German  art, 
interpret  to-day^s  lightning  in  favor  of  our  national  undertaking — 
as  a  sign  of  blessing  from  above/*  ^ 

For  his  fifty-ninth  birthday,  on  May  22, 1872,  Wagner 
planned  a  grand  Beethoven  Festival  at  Bayreuth.  The 
Ninth  Symphony  —  which,  because  of  its  invoking  in  its 

I  Glasenapp,  IL  323. 


d 


266  FBOM  MUSICB  TO  BATBBUTH 

last  part  the  aid  of  voice  and  poetry,  bad  always  seemed 
to  him  the  point  of  transition  from  purely  instrumental 
music  to  the  "  aii-work  of  the  future  "  —  waa  to  be  per- 
formed, with  the  aid  of  Germany's  leading  vocalists  and 
instrumentalists;  at  the  same  time  representatives  of  the 
different  Wagner  Societies  were  to  be  thus  given  an 
opportunity  to  meet  and  to  witness  the  laying  of  the 
corner-stone  of  the  Nibelung  Theatre.  There  had  been 
no  diiticulty  in  finding  a  suitable  location  for  such  a 
theatre.  The  Bayreuthers,  headed  by  Burgomaster 
Muncker  and  banker  and  representative  Feustel,  had  of 
course  received  Wagner's  project  with  open  arms,  feel- 
ing instinctively  that  it  would  arouse  their  town,  like  a 
Dornroscben,  from  its  hundred  years'  slumber.  They 
generously  made  him  a  present  of  a  site  large  enough 
for  a  theatre  with  park-like  surroundings  —  a  site  fit  for 
a  Walhalla  and  the  beauties  of  which  have  been  appre- 
ciated by  numberless  tourists.  The  theatre  now  stands 
on  an  eminence,  within  easy  walking  distance  of  the  city 
(about  twenty  minutes'  walk  from  the  centre  of  the  town) 
and  commanding  a  romantic  view  of  the  surrounding 
country  —  the  Franconian  Switzerland.  Before  it  lies 
the  city,  to  the  right  and  left  the  mountain  chains  of  the 
Fichtelgebirge,  and  behind  it  a  densely  wooded  hill, 
crowned  with  a  tower  of  Victory,  erected  after  the  war 
with  France. 

Invitations  to  participate  in  this  Beethoven  Festival 
had  been  sent  to  various  cities,  and  were  in  most  cases 
promptly  accepted.  Eiedel's  vocal  society  in  Leipzig, 
and  Stem's  in  Berlin,  formed  the  nucleus  of  the  chorus; 
orchestral  players  came  from  Vienna,  Leipzig,  Weimar, 
Berlin,  Munich,  Stuttgart,  etc.;  and  the  soloists  were 


LAYING  THE  C0BNEB-8T0NB  267 

Niemann^  Betz,  Frl.  Lehmann,  Frau  Jachmann.  As 
the  place  for  the  concert  Wagner  had  chosen  the  old 
opera-house — the  same  which  he  had  had  in  mind  when 
he  first  revisited  Bayreuth,  as  being  possibly  available 
for  his  Tetralogy.  Externally,  it  is  "a  jewel  of  the 
Renaissance  style,"  but  a  glimpse  at  the  interior  had 
shown  that  no  alteration  could  possibly  fit  it  for  his 
uses.  It  is  the  oldest  theatre  but  one  in  (Germany,  and 
at  the  time  when  it  was  erected  French  plays  and  Italian 
operas  alone  were  cultivated  and  enjoyed  by  the  Grerman 
potentates  who  built  such  houses.  Wagner  wanted  a 
democratic  theatre,  not  one  which  had  been  "so  con- 
structed that  the  Margrave's  carriage  could  be  driven 
inside  the  edifice  and  clear  up  to  the  court-box."  He 
wanted,  as  we  shall  see  in  a  moment,  several  other  things 
which  neither  this  nor  any  other  existing  opera-house 
provided.  But  for  the  concert  this  place  would  serve  as 
well  as  any  other.  Of  the  rehearsals  Tappert  wrote  an 
entertaining  account,*  from  which  I  will  copy  this  in- 
stantaneous photograph :  — 

**The  difAcuit  presUhifUraden  of  the  last  movement  caused  the 
master  and  his  men  much  trouble.  Wagner  expressed  his  desire 
that  all  rhythm  and  accents  should  disappear  here ;  a  tone-flood 
should  break  in,  sudden,  wild,  irrepressible !  It  was  difficult  to 
carry  out  this  idea,  but  after  many  attempts  the  interesting  prob- 
lem was  solved.  Then  Betz  got  up  and  sang:  *0  friends,  not 
these  tones.*  His  magnificent  voice  filled  the  vast  auditorium,  and 
the  large  audience  listened  in  admiration.  *  So  that  is  the  famous 
Betz  I  *  *  Yes,  that  is  our  Betz,'  the  Berliner  whispers  proudly. 
'  More  vivaciously  ! '  cried  Wagner,  *  as  if  you  meant  to  say :  **  Fel- 
lows, what  awful  stuff  you  are  playing  f  *  *  Very  well,*  replied 
Betz,  and  proved  at  once  that  he  had  understood  the  hint." 

1  Mutikalischet  WochetS>UUt,  Nos.  23-26, 1872. 


268  FROM  MUNtCB  TO  BATREVTB 

Tappert  also  makes  some  interesting  comments  on  the 
tempo  rubato  with  which  Wagner  vivified  the  Ninth  Sym- 
phony, and  the  no  less  interesting  remark  that  the  main 
tempo  and  some  of  the  nuances  of  the  Kaiaemarsch  were 
here  taken  by  the  composer  somewhat  differently  from 
what  they  had  been  in  Berlin :  as  was  to  be  expected, 
I  may  add,  for  only  the  academic  critics  fancy  that 
there  is  such  a  thing  as  a  cast-iron  tempo  for  a  piece, 
and  that  the  one  they  consider  right.  Nor  did  Wagner 
believe  in  the  theory  that  a  conductor  should  be  ao  ele- 
gant and  graceful  that  a  photograph  might  be  taken  of 
him  at  any  moment.  He  gesticulated,  stamped,  and, 
towards  the  close  of  the  symphony,  he  became  so  excited 
that  his  baton  broke  in  two. 

On  this  occasion  certain  minor  impprfections  in  Bee- 
thoven's orchestration,  which  interrupted  the  melodic 
continuity  and  distinctness  in  a  few  places,  induced  him 
to  make  slight  alterations,  which  there  can  be  no  doubt 
whatever  that  Beethoven  himself  would  have  approved, 
and  which  he  surely  would  have  made  himself  had  not 
the  imperfect  character  of  certain  instruments  used  in 
his  day  prevented  him.*  In  tlie  little  speeches  made 
during  and  after  the  rehearsals  Wagner  joked  about  the 
lunatic  asylum  which  faced  the  Nibelung  Theatre  on  the 
opposite  hill;  and  he  congratulated  himself  and  his 
friends  on  l>eing  there  among  themselves,  solely  to  per- 
form and  enjoy  Beethoven;  adding,  "The  devil  take  any 
one  who  criticises  us." 

'  These  alterations  are  explained  anil  justified  by  him  In  a  special 
eway  (IX.  277-301|,  wliere  he  points  out  liow  I.inzt's  arrangement  at 
the  symphony  for  piano  first  cleared  up  certain  obaoiiriiies  in  the  score 


LATINO  THE  C0SNEB-8T0NE  269 

The  concert  at  the  old  opera-house  was  followed  by 
the  ceremony  of  the  laying  of  the  comer-stone  on  the 
hill,  which  was  somewhat  marred  by  the  weather. 
While  the  band  was  playing  the  Hvldigungamarschj 
Wagner  took  the  hammer,  and  uttering  the  words: 
''Blessings  on  this  stone;  may  it  stand  long  and  hold 
firmly/'  he  gave  it  the  first  three  strokes,  whereupon  the 
bystanders  followed  his  example.  There  was  a  deep 
significance  and  touching  tribute  in  performing  this 
ceremony  to  the  sounds  of  the  March  of  Homageto  King 
Ludwig,  without  whose  encouragement  the  world  would 
have  never  seen  the  Nibelung  Theatre  —  perhaps  never 
even  possessed  the  Nibelung  Tetralogy  complete.  The 
King,  too,  was  with  his  friend  in  this  hour;  this  tele- 
gram was  received  from  him:  — 

**  To  the  German  poet-composer  Herr  Richard  Wagner  in  Bay- 
reuth. 

«^  From  the  profoandest  depths  of  my  soul  I  express  to  yoa« 
dearest  friend,  my  warmest  and  most  sincere  congratulations  on 
this  day  of  such  great  significance  to  all  Germany.  Blessing  and 
prosperity  to  the  great  undertaking  next  year.  To-day  more  than 
ever,  I  am  united  with  you  in  spirit 

"LUDWIO, 

''Kochel,  May  22,  1872." 

This  telegram  with  other  documents,  including  the 
statutes  of  the  first  Wagner  Society,  some  coins,  and  a 
few  verses  of  Wagner's,  — 

*'  Hier  schliess  loh  ein  Geheimniss  ein, 
Da  ruh*  es  viele  hundert  Jahr* ; 
So  lange  es  verwahrt  der  Stein, 
Macht  es  der  Welt  sich  offenbar,*' 

was  deposited  in  a  tin  box  under  the  corner-stone. 


FROM  MUmcn  TO  BAraSUTH 


IS   IT  NATIONAL? 

"Blessing  and  prosperity  to  your  undertaking  next 
year,"  King  Ludwig  had  telegraphed:  those  last  two 
words  tell  a  sad  tale.  The  Nibelung  Festival  was  in- 
tended to  be  in  1873;  but  although  the  score  would  have 
been  ready  by  that  time,  and  the  artists  all  prepared  for 
their  tasks,  it  was  not  till  1876  that  the  festival  could 
be  held.  Three  times  it  had  to  be  postponed,  and  even 
in  1876  a  man  with  less  courage  than  its  projector  would 
have  abandoned  it  forever.  The  fa^ts  leading  to  these 
postponements  constitute  one  of  the  strangest  and  least 
creditable  pages,  not  so  much  in  the  history  of  German 
music  as  in  German  CuUurgeschidite.  But  they  must  be 
related. 

One  thousand  patrons'  tickets  would  have  to  be  dis- 
posed of,  it  was  estimated,  to  make  the  festival  possible. 
But  in  January,  1873,  only  242  had  been  taken;  in  July, 
340.  An  offer  from  Berlin  of  660,000  marks,  if  the 
theatre  were  built  there,  could  not  be  accepted,  now 
that  matters  had  progressed  so  far  at  Bayreuth,  and  for 
various  other  reasons:  similar  offers  from  London  and 
Chicago  were  still  less  feasible.  The  Wagner  Societies 
issued  a  circuLar  calling  attention  to  the  national  impor- 
tance and  interest  of  the  project,  and  soliciting  subscrip- 
tions of  any  amount,  however  small,  from  patriots.  Of 
this  circular  4000  copies  were  distributed  and  exposed  in 
music  and  book  shops;  the  result  was  that  —  several 
students  at  Giessen  signed  a  few  dollars!  Another  cir- 
cular was  sent  to  Operatic  managers  asking  for  a  Bay- 
reuth benefit  performance.     To  three  of  these  negative 


18  IT  NATIONAL f  271 

replies  were  returned;  the  others  were  not  answered  at 
all!  Yet  at  that  time  most  of  the  (German  opera-houses 
were  already  deriving  their  chief  income  from  Wagner's 
operas^  and  common  prudence  and  business  sagacity,  if  no 
higher  motive,  ought  to  have  induced  the  managers  to 
assist  at  the  birth  of  four  more  of  these  profitable  works. 
On  Jan.  7,  1874,  Heckel  received  a  telegram  begging 
him  urgently  to  come  to  Bayreuth.  On  his  arrival  Wag- 
ner informed  him  that  he  had  made  up  his  mind  to  ad- 
dress to  him  a  public  letter  announcing  the  collapse  of 
the  Bayreuth  project:  ''I  shall  have  the  still  open  sides 
of  the  theatre  covered  with  boards,  to  keep  the  owls  out, 
at  any  rate,  till  circumstances  permit  us  to  continue." 
''That  must  not  be! "  was  the  retort  made  by  Heckel, 
who  proposed  a  plan  of  getting  a  certain  sovereign  to 
induce  the  German  Emperor  to  x>atronize  the  undertak- 
ing. This  plan  could  not  be  carried  out;  and  Wagner's 
own  efforts  to  secure  the  cooperation  of  the  Imperial 
Grovemment  also  failed.  Bismarck  was  first  appealed 
to.  Wagner  wrote  him  a  letter  urging  him  to  read  the 
last  two  pages  of  his  pamphlet  on  the  Stage-Festival' 
Theatre  at  Bayreuth,^  Bismarck,  who  is  an  even  greater 
ignoramus  in  music  than  Schopenhauer  was,  and  who 
had  no  idea  that  he  was  dealing  with  a  man  greater  than 
himself,  did  not  even  deign  to  answer  Wagner's  letter. 
More  successful  were  the  efforts  of  the  Baroness  von 
Schleinitz  to  win  over  the  aged  Emperor  to  the  Bayreuth 
cause.    At  a  moment  when  collapse  seemed  inevitable, 

1  In  these  pages  he  points  ont  how  the  character  of  the  theatre  had 
been  determined  in  e^ery  point  by  the  natore  of  the  work  to  be  per- 
formed; and  that  the  possible  result  was  not  only  a  new  style  of 
mnsico-dramatio  art,  bat  a  new  national  style  of  architecton. 


M 


272  FSOU  UUSICB  TO  BATBEUTB 

Wagner  had  ventured  to  appeal  to  the  Emperor  for  a 
considerable  portion  of  the  "  funda  for  the  furtherance 
of  national  interests  "  which  he  knew  were  at  his  dis- 


"  I  waa  assured,"  Le  relates,'  "  that  the  Emperor  »t  once  gnuted 
my  petition  and  commended  It  to  the  Chancellonhip  ;  but  thkt  in 
consequence  of  an  unlaTorsble  judgment  of  the  prveldent  of  thu 
time,  the  matter  wsa  dropped.  1  waa  then  told  that  the  Imperial 
Chancellor  hiioBelf  had  known  nothing  bf  thla  aftali ;  that  Herr 
D«lbr(lc|[  alone  had  had  the  matter  In  band ;  that  bia  diMuadlng  the 
Emperor  was  not  Burprising,  aince  he  was  eietoalTelj  a  man  o( 
finance  and  cured  for  nothing  elae.  On  the  other  hand,  It  waa  aald 
that  the  CultosminisWr,  Herr  Fa!k,  whom  I  might  have  looked  on 
as  a,  repreaentative  of  tnj  Plan,  vraa  purely  a  jurist,  unmindful  of 
other  things." 

And  80  on;  the  upshot  being  that  he  did  not  get  the 
money,  From  his  private  funds  the  kind-hearted 
Kaiser  contributed  the  value  of  twenty-five  Patrons*  Cer- 
tificates ($5675),  but  this  was  only  a  drop  where  a  bucket 
waa  needed.  Wagner  had  hoped  that  a  very  small 
fraction  of  the  milliards  of  indemnity  paid  by  France 
might  be  spared  from  the  military  funds  for  the  most 
original  and  most  thoroughly  German  artistic  undertak- 
ing ever  projected.  A  million  marks  would  have  sufficed 
to  establish  for  all  time  a  model  theatre  where  artists 
could  meet  annually  to  perfect  themselves  in  a  style  of 
performance  which  would  do  justice  for  the  first  time 
not  only  to  Wagner's  works,  but  to  some  of  the  master- 
works  of  all  the  national  composers,  which  were  now 
neglected  because  the  true  art  of  interpreting  them  had 
been  lost.  For  it  was  Wagner's  intention  to  bring  out 
at  Bayreuth  not  only  his  own  music-dramas,  but  the  best 
1  BctiMpcct  on  the  Stage-FegUval-PlajTa  of  1876,  X.  146. 


18  IT  NATIONAL  t    ,  278 

works  of  Mozart,  Beethoven,  Weber,  and  others,  under 
his  own  supervision;  to  make  Bayreuth,  in  fact,  a  high 
school  of  (German  art. 

The  (German  nation  scorned  his  ofiFer.  Can  we  blame 
Bismarck  and  the  other  politicians  for  this?  Hardly; 
they  knew  nothing  of  art,  and  could  have  been  induced 
to  favor  an  art-movement  only  if  the  '^ experts"  had 
urged  them  to  it.  But  this  is  precisely  what  the  experts 
did  not  do.  Wagner  himself  recognized  the  fact  that 
the  failure  of  his  efforts  was  due  to  a  necessary  "  agree- 
ment with  the  great  press  "  on  the  part  of  the  politi- 
cians. He  does  not  cite  any  of  these  ''opinions  of  the 
press,"  leaving  that  pleasant  duty  to  his  biographers. 
Chapters  might  be  filled  with  them;  here  we  have  room 
for  only  a  few  choice  specimens,  some  of  which  appeared 
before,  some  after  the  event.  After  the  Festival,  one  of 
the  leading  Viennese  critics,  L.  Speidel,  wrote:  — 

*^No,  no,  and  a  third  time  no ;  the  German  nation  has  nothing 
in  common  with  this,  now-revealed,  simian  disgrace  (^Affenachande); 
and  if  it  ever  should  take  real  pleasure  in  the  counterfeit  gold  of 
the  Nibelung^s  Bingt  this  mere  fact  would  obliterate  it  from  the 
list  of  western  civilized  nations.*' 

It  was  after  the  festival  that  a  leading  Berlin  critic, 
Gustav  Engel,  wrote,  in  the  Vossische  ZeUungy  that  he 
must  deny  Wagner's  right  to  claim  a  national  significance 
for  his  new  theatre  and  his  new  dramas,  on  the  ground 
that  the  Gterman  people  did  not  recognize  him  as  a  great 
composer:  — 

*^  However  much  TannhSuser  and  Lohengrin  may  dominate  the 
German  theatres,**  he  continues,  '*  there  is  as  yet  [1876,  seven 
years  before  Wagner's  death  1]  no  evidence  of  his  being  oelsbrated 


274  fbo:m  MUNICH  to  batreutb 

by  hia  countrymen  aa  were  Moiart'  and  BeetlioveD,  aa  even  Men^ 
delsaohn  was  in  his  day  ;  only  the  fanatic  zeai  of  his  special  ad- 
mlrere  could  deceive  toteignere  on  this  point." 

Such  being  the  opinions  of  leading  "  experts  "  of  Berlin 
and  Vienna,  it  is  small  wonder  that  the  press  at  large 
should  have  maligned  the  Bayreuth  schema  before  as 
well  as  after  the  Festival.  The  Orazar  Wochenblatt  fur 
Lileratur,  etc.,  alluded  to 

"Uie  colOBsal  impudence  of  the  BByreuth  undertaking,"  The 
Cotiigne  Qattlte  referred  to  the  "coaree  big-mouthedness  "  of  the 
"German  maal«r,"  dpropos  of  the  prelimlnarT  Beethoven  Festival 
ot  mT2  ;  and  this,  according  lo  Tappert,  was  the  only  reference 
made  in  this  leading  German  paper  to  that  event  and  to  the  laying 
of  the  corner-stone  I  Dr.  Wilhelm  Mohr,  who  wrote  a  pamphlet 
in  1872  entitled  Dag  OrfiiidertftMin  in  der  Mmik  ( Stocks windle), 
guolet!  friiiu  a  I^'ip/ig  muaicnl  paper  this  edilurial  note:  "We 
shall  not  publish  a  report  on  tbe  laying  of  the  corner-stone  at  B^- 
reuth,  although  several  have  been  sent  to  us.  We  consider  it  a 
farce,  staged  with  genuine  Wagnerian  raffinement,  and  calculated 
solely  for  hia  personal  gloriGcation.  Many  of  the  scenes  that 
occurred  there  are  simply  nauseating."  Dr.  Mohr  himself  de- 
nounced the  Festival  as  giving  foreigners  "a  spectacle  of  revolting 
ludicrousness  and  servility."  The  WQrzburg  Stechap/H  wrot«  that 
"  there  is  a  such  a  thing  as  spiritual  epidemics  among  nations. 
The  persecution  of  witches  was  one  of  tliese ;  at  present  we  have 
another  in  the  Wagner  swindle." 

Tbe  climax  of  indecency  was  reached  in  a  virulent 
pamphlet  written  by  a  Munich  physician  named  Pusch- 
mann,  who  endeavored  seriously  to  prove  that  Wagner 

1  Poor  Engel  was  obviously  not  aware  of  the  unfortonate  fact  that 
his  own  predecessor  on  tlie  same  paper  wrote,  tliree  years  before 
Mozart's  dvatli.  a  priipoi  of  Hon  Juan  :  "  It  is  tlie  product  of  a  freak,  a 
caprice,  aud  not  iuspircd  by  tbe  heart.  ■  .  .  Besides,  we  have  oevBi 
heard  that  Mozart  was  a  composer  of  note." 


18  IT  NATIONAL?  276 

was  a  lunatic.  The  pamphlet  is,  however,  not  iinamus- 
ing.  The  charge  of  insanity  is  based  on  three  grounds: 
Wagner's  vanity,  his  fondness  for  luxury,  and  his  belief 
that  he  is  a  yictim  of  persecution.  This  reasoning  of 
course  is  perfectly  sound;  for  no  artist  before  Wagner 
was  ever  guilty  of  vanity  or  love  of  luxury;  and  as  for 
the  idea  of  persecution,  that  was  obviously  a  pure  hallu- 
cination, for  we  know  that  nobody  ever  said  an  unkind 
word  against  Wagner.  The  funniest  part  of  this  busi- 
ness is  that  in  a  country  where  almost  every  man  suffers 
from  megalomania,  the  one  man  who  had  the  best  claim 
to  the  title  of  genius  should  have  been  pronounced  a 
lunatic! 

There  was,  however,  a  very  serious  side  to  all  this. 
Wagner,  as  Lesimple  relates,  was  greatly  amused  by 
Puschmann's  pamphlet  and  often  alluded  to  it  jocu- 
larly; but  he  was  not  at  all  amused  by  the  persistent 
efforts  of  influential  newspapers  to  discredit  his  national 
undertaking  by  falsely  declaring  it  the  mere  outcome  of 
a  desire  for  self-glorification.  There  was,  for  instance, 
the  Oartenlaube,  with  a  circulation  of  400,000  copies, 
declaring  editorially 

**  that  the  nation  has  absolutely  nothing  to  do  with  the  Bayreuth 
performances,  and  that  it  is  only  the  nuisance  of  cliques  and  puffery 
which  still  flourishes  in  Germany  that  tries  to  give  to  the  Wagner 
Festival  a  nimbus  which  in  reidity  it  does  not  possess  nor  can 
possess." 

Eeferring  to  this  article,  Wagner  says  (X.  89) :  — 

**  The  wealthy  citizen  of  a  small  town  had  sent  in  his  name  to 
one  of  my  friends  for  a  seat  at  the  Bayreuth  Festival :  he  took  this 
back  when  he  read  in  the  Gartenlaube  that  the  whole  thing  was  a 
swindle  and  an  endeavor  to  get  money  under  false  pretences.*' 


276  FHOM  MUNICH  TO  BATSEUTB 

These  maclii nations  oontiaued  to  the  very  last  moment. 
When  the  first  Siegfried  perfornianc*  had  to  be  post- 
poned a  day  on  account  of  the  illness  of  a  singer,  tele- 
gTiuna  were  sent  to  Vienna  announcing  the  impending 
collapse  of  the  whole  Festival.  The  result  of  this  was, 
as  Wagner  afterwards  discovered,  that  "many  persona 
in  Vienna  and  Hungary  who  had  intended  to  come  for 
the  second  series,  were  Induced  to  remain  at  home." 

If  we  bear  in  mind  this  attitude  of  the  press,  and  the 
general  poverty  of  the  Germans,  we  can  understand  why 
an  undertaking,  the  mere  pluckineaa  of  which  in  any  other 
country  would  have  aroused  universal  admiration,  should 
have  beeu  repeatedly  on  the  point  of  collapse.  Indeed, 
it  would  have  collapsed  had  not  King  Ludwig  once  more 
stepped  in  ami  advanced  the  sum  of  200,OtH)  marks' 
absolutely  needed  to  complete  the  arrangements.  This, 
combined  with  $2500  sent  by  the  Viceroy  of  Egypt  and 
the  404  Certificates  disposed  of  by  July,  1875,  induced 
Wagner  finally  to  announce  the  Festival  definitely  for 
the  summer  of  1876.  To  do  this,  however,  required  the 
courage  of  a  Siegfried;  for,  as  he  wrote  to  Heckel  as 
late  as  Feb.  4,  1876:  — 

"  Our  anxielies  are  great,  and  in  the  end  I  must  pronounce  my 
decision  to  have  the  performances  Ihia  year  foolhardy.  Our 
Falrons'  CertificateB  number  490,  but  we  need,  according  to  the 
Latest  estimate,  1300  to  cover  expenses.  The  undertaking  aa  orig- 
inally projected  is  therefore  a  complete  failure. " 

'  Not  ihalrri,  as  Jullien,  with  his  —  I  had  almost  said  usual  —  inac- 
curacy, states  —  a  difference  of  8100,0001  See  the  aleoographic  report  of 
Wagner's  iateteatiug  epeecb  ad  hoc,  in  Kiirscbner's  Jahrbuch,  196-206. 


VILLA   WAHNFBIED  277 


VILLA  WAHNFBIED 

About  a  month  before  the  Beethoven  Festival  at  Bay- 
reuthy  Wagner  had  given  up  his  villa  near  Lucerne  and 
taken  up  his  residence  at  Bayreuth  —  or  rather  near 
Bayreuth;  for,  pending  the  erection  of  his  own  house, 
he  was  living  in  an  inn  adjoining  the  lovely  park  called 
Fantaisie,  an  hour's  drive  from  Bayreuth.  About  a 
week  before  they  abandoned  their  home  on  the  Lake  of 
Lucerne,  Madame  Wagner  wrote  to  Judith  Gkkutier  that 
they  were  about  to  leave  Triebschen  with  heavy  hearts, 
and  she  herself  with  apprehensions.  Triebschen  had 
been  an  ideal  home  for  her  husband.  Here  he  had  com- 
pleted the  Meiatersinger  and  Siegfried  scores  and  written 
many  pages  of  the  Odtterddmmerung  too.  Here  he  had 
f^njoyed  the  quiet  and  isolation  which  is  essential  to  the 
full  ripening  of  works  of  genius.  The  only  disturbers 
of  the  peace  had  been  the  tourists  who,  after  "  doing  " 
the  Bigi,  Pilatus,  the  lake,  and  the  lion  of  Lucerne,  had 
come  to  see  that  other  local  lion,  "the  King's  favorite." 
Madame  Gautier  relates  an  amusing  anecdote  concerning 
the  precautions  that  were  taken  by  Madame  Wagner  to 
keep  such  unbidden  visitors  from  molesting  her  husband, 
by  keeping  him  in  hiding  under  a  bower  till  the  tourists 
had  been  persuaded  that  he  was  "not  at  home."  Wag- 
ner himself  related  to  her  a  story  of  how  Groethe  once 
received  such  an  intruder.  He  planted  himself  in  the 
middle  of  the  room,  with  arms  crossed,  eyes  fixed  on  the 
ceiling,  immovable  as  a  statue.  The  Englishman  had 
enough  sense  of  humor  to  see  the  point:  he  put  on  his 
eyeglass,  walked  slowly  around  the  poet,  examining  him 


278  FE03I  MUNICH  TO  BATBEUTB 

from  head  to  foot,  and  then  left  without  a  word.  "It 
is  difficult  to  say,"  added  Wagner,  "which  of  the  two 
showed  the  more  wit." 

Bayreuth,  under  ordinary  circumstances,  would  have 
been  quieter  even  than  Triebschen,  being  entirely  iso- 
lated from  all  the  usual  tourist  routes,  and  being,  more- 
over, one  of  the  sleepiest  old  towns  in  Germany,  the 
inhabitants  of  which  (about  20,000  in  number)  might 
have  felt  inclined  to  regard  the  stories  of  the  gaiety  and 
frivolity  that  prevailed  there  in  the  eighteenth  century 
as  mere  fables,  had  not  the  castles  and  the  opera-house 
in  town,  and  especially  the  neighboring  Eremitage  —  a 
sort  of  miniature  Versailles,  with  parks,  rococo  build- 
ings and  grottoes  covered  with  shells,  and  waterworks  — 
remained  as  witnesses  of  the  brilliant  past.'  Now, 
after  a  century's  sleep,  the  Bayreuthers  were  fated  to 
be  awakened  to  new  life  by  the  electric  atmosphere  of 
(he  very  latest  and  most  vivifying  manifestations  of 
modem  art. 

In  one  respect  the  Bayreuthers  were  not  dormant. 
They  were  wide  awake  to  the  advantages  which  would 
accrue  to  them  from  this  musical  invasion,  and  they 
showed  their  gratitude  in  advance  —  a  new  sensation  to 
Wagner!  — by  making  him  a  present  not  only  of  a  large 
plot  of  land  for  the  theatre,  but  of  another  one,  adjoin- 
ing the  pretty  town-park,  for  a  residence.  Here,  re- 
moved from  the  noise  of  street  traffic,  he  built  himself  a 
villa  according  to  his  own  plans.     It  is  of   interest  to 

'  This  blDgraph;  Is  haidl;  the  place  for  a  history  and  description  of 
Bayreuth.  English  visitors  will  find  an  entertainine  account  o(  the 
past  aud  present  in  Mr.  J.  P.  Jackson's  TAc  BiKjreulh  of  Wagner.  A 
guide  to  the  city  in  several  languages  may  be  baugbt  Id  any  Oennon 
bookstore. 


VILLA  WAHNFBIED  279 

know  what  ideal  of  a  dwelling-house  and  a  theatre  the 
creator  of  the  "Art- Work  of  the  Future"  had  in  his 
mind.  Both  these  buildings  are  plain  on  the  outside; 
in  the  case  of  the  theatre,  at  any  rate,  from  necessity, 
because  the  funds  were  not  sufficient  to  build  a  more 
ornamental  temple  of  art.  The  villa  has  for  its  sole 
ornament  a  fresco  over  the  door  with  four  figures  — 
Wotan,  as  representative  of  (German  mythology,  two 
females  symbolizing  music  and  tragedy,  and  the  boy 
Siegfried.  These  figures  are  really  portraits,  their  fea- 
tures bearing  the  likeness  of  Betz,  Gosima  Wagner, 
Schroeder-Devrient,  and  Siegfried  Wagner.  Beneath 
this  fresco  are  three  tablets,  with  the  words :  "  Hier  wo 
mein  Wittmen  Frieden  fand  Wahnfbied  sei  dieses  Hans 
von  mir  benannt."  (Here  where  my  illusions  came  to 
rest,  Wahnfried  [freedom  from  illusion]  be  this  house 
christened). 

It  is  to  the  interior,  in  the  villa  (as  in  the  theatre), 
that  we  must  look  for  Wagner's  ideal.  We  pass  through 
the  door  into  a  large  hall,  the  ceiling  of  which  is  the 
roof  itself,  whence  light  is  admitted  through  a  colored 
glass  window.  Above  we  see  a  gallery  leading  to  the 
family  and  bed  rooms.  On  the  right,  below,  is  the  dining- 
room,  on  the  left  the  spacious  library  and  reception-room. 
This  room  is  elegantly  adorned  with  the  savings  of  a 
lifetime,  the  trophies  of  various  triumphs.  The  music 
and  book  shelves  are  filled  with  the  volumes  of  Wagner's 
favorite  authors  and  composers,  historic  and  philosophic 
books,  orchestral  and  operatic  scores.  The  walls  are 
adorned  with  portraits  of  his  mother  and  stepfather, 
Ludwig  Geyer,  Beethoven,  Schopenhauer,  King  Ludwig, 
Schiller  and  Goethe,  Liszt,  and  his  daughter  Gosima. 


280  FROM  MUNICB  TO  BATBBUTB 

In  one  comer  of  the  room  is  the  magnificent  Steinway  ' 
Grand  which  Benred  to  convince  Wagner  that  ii 
branch  of  music,  at  any  rate,  America  leads  the  world. 
Id  front  of  the  bouse  is  a  bronze  statue  of  Ludwig  II., 
and  the  grounds  are  further  adorned  with  trees  and 
shrubbery,  which  at  present  almost  conceal  the  house 
from  the  street. 

In  this  house  Wa^er  spent  the  happiest  decade  of  hia  ' 
life,  with  his  wife  Cosima,  and  three  children.*  Fraa 
Cosima  took  from  him  many  of  the  burdens  of  life,  looked 
after  bis  business  affairs,  shielded  him  from  unwelcome 
visitors,  and  answered  bis  enormous  coTrespondeoce  as 
far  as  possible;  excepting,  of  course,  the  autographs,  for 
which  demands  came  daily,  especially  from  England  and 
America,  and  which,  it  is  said,  Wagner  was  good-natured 
enough  to  answer  as  a  rale.  By  the  Bayreuthera  he  was 
stared  at  with  awe  and  admiration  whenever  he  saun- 
tered down  the  streets,  or  took  his  daily  walk  in  neigh- 
boring groves  and  fields,  with  his  large  dogs,  in  search 
of  open-air  inspiration  for  his  Parsifal  motives.  His 
amiability  is  illustrated  by  an  anecdote  related  by  Glase- 
napp.  An  humble  but  honest  citizen,  employee  at  a  local 
factory,  had  the  courage  to  ask  him  to  be  godfather  to 
his  youngest  child,  born  on  the  day  when  the  corner-stone 
had  been  laid.  Wagner  accepted  the  invitation,  came 
with  his  whole  family,  and  spent  the  entire  afternoon  in 
the  employee's  house,  joking  and  telling  stories. 

Another  characteristic  anecdote  was  related  to  me  by 
Herr  Oesterlein,  owner  of  the  Wagner  Miiseum  in  Vienna. 

I  After  Cosima's  diTorce,  and  her  marriage  to  Wagner,  Hans  von 
Billow  avoided  personal  intercourse  with  the  (amily,  but  continued  hU 
friendly  relatiom  and  deTotlon  as  an  artist. 


NIBXLUNG  THEATRE  AND  0BCRE8TRA      281 

One  day  while  the  theatre  was  in  ooone  of  oonstmetion, 
Wagner  had  been  up  the  hill  in  a  bad  humor.  Something 
had  been  done  contrary  to  his  plans  and  instructions;  he 
had  tried  to  explain  what  he  wanted,  but  the  builders 
had  not  understood.  One  of  the  oyerseers,  however  (not 
a  trained  builder),  saw  a  light,  and  acted  in  accordance 
with  his  inspiration.  Next  day  Wagner  found  what  had 
been  done,  and  was  delighted.  ^^Who  did  this?''  he 
asked.  The  name  was  given.  ''Where  is  he?"  He 
could  not  be  found.  On  returning  to  town,  Wagner  saw 
him,  accosted  him  effusiyely,  slapped  him  on  the  shoulder, 
and  exclaiming,  ''You  are  a  brilliant  fellow,"  dragged 
him  off  to  a  tayem,  drank  a  bottle  of  wine  with  him,  and 
exchanged  the  brotherly  "du"  (thou) — the  Idghest 
degree  of  cordiality  in  a  German's  repertory. 

KIBELUNO  THEATRE  AND  INVISIBLB  0BCHB8TBA 

From  Villa  Wahnfried  to  the  Nibelung  Theatre  we 
can  walk  comfortably  in  half  an  hour.  German  yisitors 
—  especially  those  suffering  from  the  national  disease  of 
beer-corpulence  —  have  uttered  many  groans  over  the 
necessity  of  climbing  up  this  hill  in  warm  weather,  when 
carriages  are  scarce  and  dear;  but  in  reality  it  is  just  a 
pleasant  walk,  to  brace  up  the  system  for  the  perform- 
ance to  come.  In  1876  the  road  leading  up  the  hill  was 
plain  and  unadorned,  except  as  to  the  ever-widening  view ; 
at  present  the  trees  planted  along  the  road  have  grown 
up  into  a  stately  alley,  affording  shade,  hiding  the  dis- 
tant view,  and  leaving  it  for  a  pleasant  surprise  when 
you  arrive  on  top.  The  hill  is  higher  than  it  seems  when 
the  theatre  is  first  seen  as  the  train  approaches  Bayreuth^ 


282  FROM  MUNICH  TO  BAYBEUTB 

and  the  view,  as  already  stated,  is  delightful,  some  of  ths  I 
peaks  rising  to  a  height  of  almost  four  thousand  feet. 

Although  the  present  Xibelimg  Theatre  was  intended   i 
to  be  merely  proTisional, — until  funds  could  be  collected  | 
for    a    more   substantial   architectural    ornament,- 
exterior  is  by  no  means  uninteresting.     Pictures  of  it 
are  so  familiar  that  it  is  needless  to  describe  it.     I  will 
only  call  attention  to  the  fact  that  the  batik  part  of  tha 
building  ia  almost  twice  as  high  as  the  front,  owing  to 
the  scenic  arrangements.     In  the  works  to  be  performed    ' 
—  especially  Rkeingold  —  the  requisite  changes  of  scen- 
ery are  so  rapid  and  elaborate  that  the  ordinary  way  of 
shifting  would  be  impracticable;   the  method  adopted  J 
here  consistti  in  raising  the  old  scene  by  machinery  into  1 
the  high  part  of  the  building,  so  that  the  new  one,  pre-  1 
viously  arranged  in  the  deep  cellar,  can  take  its  place. 
The  stage  is  one  of  the  largest  in  the  world — larger  tliao 
the  auditorium,  which  seats  about  sixteen  hundred,  if  we 
include  the  gallery  (seating  300)  above  the  royal  boxes. 
The  auditorium  resembles  the  Greek  amphitheatre,  the 
seats  rising  in  a  semicircle  one  above  the  other,  ending 
behind    in   a   row  of  boxes    surmounted   by  a  gallery. 
There  are  no  boxes  or  galleries  on  the  sides,  which  are 
adorned  with  simple   columns.     Every  seat  faces  the 
stage,  and  no  one  is  obliged  to  look  at  the  play  with 
the  distortions  necessary  in  the  usual  curved  galleries. 
The  precautions  agaiust  fire  are  unusually  good.     There 
are  twelve  different  places  of  exit,  with  no  stairs,  so  that 
the  whole  theatre  can  be  emptied  in  a  minute  or  two; 
while  on  the  stage  there  are  four  so-called  water-towers. 

All  these  deviations  from  the  usual  plan  of  a  theatric 
interior  were,  as  Wagner  states  (IX.  399),  the   natural 


NIBELUNQ  THEATRE  AND  0RCHE8TBA      288 

outcome  of  the  most  important  and  fundamental  innoTa- 
tion  of  all  —  the  desire  to  make  the  orchestra  inyisible. 
With  side  galleries  it  would  have  been  impossible  to 
prevent  the  orchestra  from  being  visible  to  many  of  the 
spectators;  but  with  amphitheatric  seats  it  was  practi- 
cable, although  the  details  required  much  study  on  the 
part  of  Wagner  and  his  architectural  assistants.  The 
French  composer  Gr^try,  and  Goethe  in  WilTidm  Meister, 
had  anticipated  Wagner  in  suggesting  that  the  instru- 
mental performers  should  be  removed  from  sight;  but  it 
remained  for  him  to  show  how  this  could  be  done  and  to 
do  U.  It  is  evident  that,  if  a  drama  is  to  produce  a 
perfect  illusion  of  reality,  the  up  and  down  motion  of  the 
violin-bows  and  trombones,  the  blows  of  the  drummers, 
the  gesticulations  of  the  conductor,  etc.,  should  be  as 
little  seen  by  the  spectators  as  the  ropes  and  pulleys 
behind  the  scenes.  The  position  of  the  orchestra  remains 
as  before,  but  it  is  lowered  seventeen  feet,  while  a  thin 
partition  entirely  shuts  off  the  sight  of  it,  and  the  wall 
serves  as  a  reflector  of  the  sound. 

Of  all  the  innovations  introduced  in  the  art  world  by 
Wagner,  this  one  found  the  most  general  and  immediate 
acceptance.  Even  the  professional  opponents  were  con- 
vinced. Indeed,  the  advantages  of  the  new  system  are 
too  great  to  escape  even  hardened  Philistines.  The 
invisibility  of  the  orchestra  is  not  the  only  gain.  By 
dispensing  with  side  galleries  the  proscenium  boxes  are, 
of  course,  done  away  with.  Now,  of  all  the  evidences  of 
man's  habitual  lack  of  aesthetic  refinement,  a  proscenium 
box  is  the  most  eloquent.  Imagine  several  thousand 
spectators  gathered  together  to  enjoy  a  drama — musical 
or  literary,  and  permitting  the  managers  to  mar  the  illu- 


i 


284  FliOM  MCMCU  TO  BATRECTH 

sion  by  having  on  each  side  of  the  stage  boxes  whose 
occupants,  with  their  ogling,  yawning,  jewels,  and  con- 
Tersation,  make  themselves  quite  as  oonsplcuous  as  the 
actors  themselves.  At  Bayreuth  not  only  is  this  nuisance 
entirely  done  away  with,  but  the  architect  Semper  had 
suggested  to  Wagner  a  most  ingenious  way  of  atilizing 
the  space  between  the  stage  and  the  first  tow  of  seats. 
This  apace,  from  which  issued  the  sounds  of  the  invisible 
orchestra,  was  called  "the  mystic  abyss,"  because  it  sep- 
arates reality  from  Ideality,  and  the  effect  of  the  arrange- 
ment adopted  —  a  narrow  proscenium  behind,  and  a  wider 
one  in  front  —  was  to  produce  the  wonderful  illusion  as 
if  the  scene  on  the  stage  had  been  removed  to  a  distance, 
while  at  the  same  time  the  spectator  sees  it  with  the 
distiufitiieaa  of  actual  nearness ;  whence  results  the  fur- 
ther illusion  that  the  actors  are  seen  in  seemingly  more 
than  natural  size.  In  a  word,  the  effect  produced  on  the 
spectator's  eyes  is  very  much  like  the  superior  distinct- 
ness and  realism  of  a  spectroscopic  view  compared  with 
a  photograph. 

To  the  ears,  the  advantages  of  the  new  arrangement 
have  proved  still  greater  and  more  numerous.  Wagner 
summed  them  up  prophetically  in  one  concise  sentence 
(\'I.  388);  biit  we  must  look  at  them  somewhat  more 
closely,  because  they  are  of  epoch-making  importance:  — 

(1)  If  you  sit  near  an  orchestra,  your  ear,  if  it  is  sen- 
sitive, will  be  offended  by  all  sorts  of  non-musical  sounds 
issuing  from  the  instruments  —  a  strident  sound  from  the 
flutes  and  clarinets,  a  scraping  sound  from  the  violins 
and  other  strings,  a  blatant  sound  from  the  trumpets, 
from  the  trombones  a  sound  which  is  onomatopoetically 
described  by  the  German  -viovA  prasaelnd,  and  so  on.     But 


NtBELVNO  THEATRE  AND  ORCHESTRA      286 

if  you  hear  the  same  music  through  a  thin  partition,  it 
becomes,  as  Wagner  says,  "  etherealized  [verkldri]f  puri- 
fied from  all  these  non-musical  sounds."  This  result  is 
attained  at  Bayreuth,  and  might  be  compared  to  the  effect 
produced  by  the  "  retouching "  of  a  photographic  nega- 
tive,—  removing  all  coarse  blemishes. 

(2)  The  singer  not  only  enjoys  the  advantage  of  directly 
facing  the  spectators  without  intervening  orchestral  and 
conductorial  gesticulations,  but  the  exclusion  of  the  non- 
musical  (anti-musical)  sounds  just  described  makes  it 
easier  for  the  audience  to  follow  his  enunciation  of  the 

« 

words  on  which  so  much  depends  in  a  true  music-drama. 
The  absurd  objection  so  often  advanced  against  Wagner 
that  his  music  is  ^^ noisy,"  and  that  the  singers  are 
"  drowned  "  in  the  orchestral  din,  arose  entirely  from  the 
fact  that  conductors  and  orchestras  did  not  know  how  to 
play  this  music.  Before  Wagner,  brass  was  chiefly  used 
for  massive,  crashing  fortissimo  effects.  He,  too,  uses 
it  for  such  a  purpose,  and  he  is  the  supreme  master  of 
climax;  but  much  more  frequently  he  utilizes  the  brass 
merely  for  coloring  purposes  —  to  obtain  those  rich 
clang-tints  which  distinguish  his  music  from  all  other. 
Brass  players  were  not  used  to  piano,  and  whenever 
Wagner  superintended  a  rehearsal  of  one  of  his  operas, 
he  had  to  cry  constantly  piano,  piano  !  At  Bayreuth  the 
brass  is  placed  farthest  away  from  the  audience,  under 
the  stage,  the  consequence  being  that  the  trumpets  and 
trombones  could  not,  if  they  would,  drown  the  voices  of 
the  singers;  every  word  is  heard  distinctly,  and  no 
honest  person  who  has  been  at  Bayreuth  would  ever 
repeat  the  ridiculous  charge  that  Wagner  places  the 
statue  in  the  orchestra,  and  the  pedestal  on  the  stage  — 


286  FROM  MUNICH  TO  BAYBEUTH 

a.  charge  which  lias  beea  brought  by  ignoramuses  agaitiBt 
every  musical  reformer. 

(3)  Perhaps  even  more  important  than  these  advan- 
tages is  the  third  one  summed  up  by  Wagner  in  the 
word  verkiart  —  i.e.  etherealized,  idealized,  sublimatedi 
a  result  following  partly  from  the  greater  physical  purity 
of  the  tones,  partly  from  the  mysterious  invisibleness  of 
the  source  of  the  music.  Goethe  had  this  same  idea 
vaguely  in  miud  when  he  wrote:  "He  always  listened  to 
music  with  his  eyes  closed,  in  order  to  concentrate  his 
whole  consciousness  on  the  sole,  pure  enjoyment  through 
the  ears."  More  definitely  do  we  grasp  Wagner's  idea 
if  we  recall  the  thrilling  effect  produced  on  us  by  music 
in  a.  church :  the  priests  long  ago  discovered  the  superior 
magic  of  invisible  music.  Operatic  composers  have  occa- 
sionally followed  ecclesiastic  example,  and  delighted 
their  hearers  with  an  invisible  choms;  but  it  remained 
for  Wagner  to  reveal  the  charm  of  an  invisible  operatic 
orchestra,  whose  sounds  seem  to  hover  over  the  singers 
aa  the  mingled  perfumes  over  a  bed  of  flowers.  Years 
before  the  Nibelung  Theatre  was  built,  Wagner  wrote  that 
the  orchestra  "  should  completely  disappear  in  relation  to 
the  singer,  or,  more  correctly,  should  appear  to  be  an 
integral  part  of  his  song."  This  ideal  was  realized  at 
Bayreutb,  thanks  to  the  invisible  orchestra. 

Dr.  J.  Scbucht'  has  made  the  suggestion  that  one 
source  of  the  purified  and  idealized  tone-color  of  the 
Bayreuth  lies  in  the  fact  that  the  higher,  dissonant  over- 
tones are  absorbed,  and  do  not  get  to  the  audience:  "The 
brass  is  changed  into  gold."     It  is  well,  however,  to  bear 


NIBELUNO  AND  OTHER  REHEARSALS       287 

in  mind  that  the  Bayreuth  arrangements,  while  perfectly 
adapted  to  Wagner's  later  dramas,  might  not  be  favor- 
able to  operas  more  simply  orchestrated.  Indeed,  the 
performance  of  TanrUiduaer,  in  1891,  convinced  me  that 
changes  would  have  to  be  made  even  for  Wagner's  own 
early  operas :  the  voices  in  this  case  were  too  loud,  and 
in  the  choral  numbers  the  orchestra  was  hardly  audible. 
However,  it  is  probable  that  changes  in  the  position  of 
the  players  and  of  the  partitions  would  obviate  this  short- 
coming; the  advantages  resulting  from  the  invisible 
orchestra  are  certainly  so  great  that  it  would  be  worth 
while  to  spend  a  great  deal  of  time  and  money  in  acoustic 
experiments  in  order  to  secure  these  benefits  for  all 
operas.^ 

NIBELUNO  AND  OTHER  BEHEARSALS 

In  discussing  the  sound  of  the  Nibelung  orchestra,  we 
somewhat  anticipated  our  narrative;  we  must  now  return 
for  a  moment,  to  record  briefly  a  few  events  preceding 
the  Festival.  During  the  months  following  the  laying 
of  the  comer-stone  Wagner  was  unusually  busy  with  his 
pen.  Essays  on  Actors  and  SiJigers,  On  the  Designation 
Music-Drama,  On  Acting,  public  letters  to  Nietzsche,  and 
to  the  Burgomaster  of  Bologna,  followed  in  rapid  succes- 
sion. His  next  task  —  a  most  important  and  difficult  one 
—  was  to  find  artists  for  the  Festival.     He  needed  singers 

1  A  sense  of  Justice  compels  me  to  add  that  one  of  the  critics,  Paul 
Lindaa,  did  not  entirely  approve  of  the  invisible  orchestra;  he  gets  a 
**  deeper  impression  "  if  he  can  see  the  fiddle-bows,  etc.  This  reminds 
me  of  a  little  story  told  in  Gottschalk's  Notes  of  a  Pianist.  Gotts- 
chalk  foond,  when  he  gave  concerts  in  Western  American  towns  many 
years  ago,  that  the  spectators  in  the  first  rows  often  seemed  to  be  much 
more  interested  in  his  pedalling  than  in  his  playing.  2>e  gustibus  non 
est  dispiUandum  I 


288  FROM  itUHWB  TO  BAYBSUTH 

who  were  actors  too,  and  fur  certain  characters,  such  as 
the  giauta  Fasolt  and  Fafner,  and  the  dwarf,  Mime,  he 
wanted  artista  whose  stature  would  not  belie  their  rdles. 
To  find  all  these  artists,  he  visited  iu  succession  the 
lea<Ung  German  opera-houses.  To  judge  by  the  essay 
A  Olimpse  of  the  German  Opera  Houses  of  To-day,  in 
which  he  related  some  of  bis  experiences,  he  was  not 
very  much  pleased  with  what  he  saw  and  heard.  He 
had  been  cordially  received  everywhere,  and  bad  never 
hesitated  to  give  singers  and  conductors  the  benefit  of 
his  advice.  In  dealing  with  such  vain  and  sensitive 
people  it  would  have  been  wiser  to  hold  liis  tongue;  but 
Wagner  never  could  resist  the  impulse,  when  he  saw  an 
error,  to  try  to  set  it  right.  He  also  assisted  at  concerts, 
followed  by  banquets  and  speeches,  which  are  conscien- 
tiously recorded  in  the  pages  of  Glasenapp.  At  Leipzig 
and  Weimar  he  spent  a  few  days  with  Liszt.  In  June, 
1873,  appeared  the  vocal  score  of  Rheingold,  to  be  followed 
by  the  Walkiire  in  September,  1874,  Siegfried  in  January, 
1876,  and  Ootterddrnmerung  in  June,  1876.  The  score 
of  the  last-named  drama  was  completed  in  November, 
1874. 

There  was  no  difficulty  in  securing  the  services  of  the 
singers  who  seemed  best  fitted  for  the  Bayreuth  perform- 
ances. Unlike  the  critics,  the  German  singers  realized 
the  importance  of  this  event,  and  in  most  cases  placed 
themselves  at  the  Meiater's  service  without  asking  any 
compensation  except  the  honor  of  cooperating  with  him. 
Doubtless,  too,  they  felt  that  the  personal  instruction 
they  would  receive  from  the  composer  would  be  worth 
more  to  them  than  the  highest  honorarium  that  any  Court 
Theatre  had  ever  paid  them.     The  prestige  of  having 


NIBELUNO  AND  OTHER  REHEAB8AL8       289 

been  a  Bayreuth  singer  served  as  a  diploma  which  opened 
all  theatre  doors  wide  to  them.  Take  Matema  as  an 
instance.  She  received  91000  an  evening  for  singing  in 
the  Metropolitan  Opera  House  at  New  York,  in  1884-5. 
But  would  she  have  obtained  a  quarter  of  that  sum  except 
for  her  Bayreuth  fame?  She  owes  her  international 
reputation  chiefly  to  her  wonderful  Briinnhilde,  which 
Wagner  taught  her,  bar  for  bar.  Her  Isolde,  which  he 
did  not  teach  her,  has  never  been  a  success. 

Preliminary  rehearsals,  attended  by  the  leading  singers 
and  the  orchestra,  were  held  in  July  and  August,  1875, 
at  first  in  Wagner's  house,  subsequently  in  the  theatre, 
of  which  the  stage  had  made  more  progress  towards  com- 
pletion than  the  auditorium.  Intendant  Hfflsen  had, 
with  unexpected  amiability,  permitted  twenty-six  of  his 
best  orchestral  players  to  join  the  Nibelung  orchestra, 
which  also  included  musicians  from  Munich,  Vienna, 
Weimar,  Breslau,  Hanover,  and  other  cities.  The  choice 
of  Hans  Richter  for  conductor  was  a  most  wise  one. 
More  than  any  other  musician,  he  was  initiated  into  the 
secrets  of  Wagner's  score;  and  apart  from  this  he  was 
doubtless  the  best  conductor  of  the  period.  As  Tappert 
wrote  of  him  in  1872 :  "  Richter  is  as  much  at  home  in 
the  orchestra  as  a  fish  in  the  water.  As  real  KapeU- 
meister  we  see  him  now  with  a  viola  in  his  hand,  and 
suddenly  we  find  him  behind  the  big  drum,  or  tinkling 
the  triangle."  Kufferath  relates  a  little  incident  of  a 
rehearsal  at  Brussels  which  tells  us  more  about  Bichter's 
art,  and  the  secret  of  his  greatness,  than  pages  of  techni- 
cal disquisition :  — 

t«You  know,  in  the  Tristan  prelude,  the  pUintive  melody  of 
the  oboe  which,  after  the  first  song  of  the  violoncellos,  rises  in  semi- 


290  FROAT  MUNlCa   TO  BAYREUTH 

tones,  to  <lie  away  Id  ti  very  lender  jn'anisfiino.  To  iudicau^  lIip 
expression  of  tbia  phrase,  <ffbile  hU  rigbt  tiaml  was  beating  the 
measure,  M.  Kicbter  quietly  placed  hia  left  hand  on  bis  heart,  with 
a  natural  ami  uuiiHected  movement  that  said  plainly  aiid  touch- 
ingly,  '  Play  with  soul.'     And  his  nlah  was  obeyed." 

Rithter  had  arranged  that  when  Wagner  came  up  for 
the  Brat  time  to  meet  his  miiBlciaiis  in  the  Nibelung 
Theatre,  the  moment  he  entered,  the  orchestra  played 
the  sublime  Walhalla  strains  from  RkeingcUd,  and  Betz 
greeted  him  in  the  words  in  which  Wotan  celebrates  the 
completion  of  the  burg  of  the  gods,  built  by  the  giants  on 
mountain  summit.  It  was  a  most  happy  thought,  which 
Wagner  appreciated  cordially, 

Heinrich  Forges,'  who  acted  the  rSle  of  Boswell  during 
the  Bayreuth  rehearsals,  calls  attention  to  the  unique  way 
in  which  they  were  carried  on.  It  is  customary  to  begin 
with  separate  rehearsals  for  the  string  and  wind  instru- 
ments, combining  them  afterwards.  Here,  on  the  con- 
trary, the  whole  orchestra  played  an  act  in  the  morning, 
repeating  it  in  the  afternoon  with  the  singers;  in  this 
way  all  participants  gained  at  once  a  general  idea  of  the 
whole,  perfecting  of  details  being  left  to  later  meetings. 
With  such  eminent  vocal  and  instrumental  artists  as 
were  assembled,  even  these  first  readings  could  not  fail 
to  be  of  interest,  and  permission  to  attend  them  had  been 
granted  to  a  few  hundred  persons,  including  Liszt  and 
Fran  von  Schleinitz.  As  the  builders  had  not  yet  had 
time  to  prepare  more  than  eighty  seats,  the  remaining 
spectators  had  to  squat  on  boxes  or  pJanks,  or  on  the 
floor.  At  the  place  where  the  prompter's  box  usually  is, 
Wagner  had  a  small  table  with  a  lamp,  and  a  desk,  on 
'  See  Mb  artidea  \a  the  Bayrtuther  Blatitr. 


NIBBLUNO  AND  OTHER  REHEABSALS       291 

which  lay  his  score,  and  whence  he  superintended  the 
toiU  ensemble. 

Among  the  visitors  who  appeared  .at  Bayreuth  during 
these  rehearsals  were  Director  Jauner  of  the  Vienna 
Opera,  and  Intendant  Htilsen  of  Berlin;  both  came  to 
make  arrangements  for  the  production  of  Tristan  in  their 
cities,  if  possible  with  the  composer's  cooperation  (the 
wind  had  turned!);  and  Jauner  also  begged  Wagner  to 
bring  out  at  Vienna  the  Paris  version  of  TannMuser,  and 
Lohengrin  without  cuts.  The  Meister  was  willing,  and 
after  a  short  rest  at  Teplitz  he  took  up  his  residence  for 
two  months  in  Vienna,  devoting  day  after  day  zealously 
to  the  rehearsals  of  his  early  operas.  Tannhduser  came 
first.  At  the  close  there  were  persistent  calls  for  the 
composer,  who  finally  appeared  on  the  stage,  and  said:  — 

**  Fifteen  years  have  passed  since  I  first  heard  my  Lohengrin^ 
here  in  Vienna,  and  enjoyed  so  favorable  a  reception  on  your  part 
This  joy  has  been  renewed  to-day,  and  this  urges  me  to  continue 
in  my  efforts  to  make  my  works  clearer  to  you,  so  far  as  the  forces 
at  my  disposal  permit  this.'* 

It  has  been  often  pointed  out  how  unfortunate  and 
insulting  Wagner  used  to  be  in  his  public  speeches. 
Here  he  had  been  kindly  and  generously  invited  to  bring 
out  his  Tannhduser  in  the  perfected  version;  he  had  been 
permitted,  without  being  charged  a  penny,  to  spend  three 
weeks  of  his  time  in  putting  things  into  shape;  a  tre- 
mendous audience  had  been  attracted,  for  which  no  one 
had  reproached  him:  yet  instead  of  feeling  overwhelmed 
by  all  these  favors,  and  thanking  the  public,  the  artists, 
and  the  management  on  his  knees,  he  went  and  intimated 
that  he  could  bring  out  his  operas  in  perfect  form  only 
<<  in  so  far  as  the  forces  placed  at  his  disposal  permitted !  '^ 


292  FRon  vCNicn  to  bayrevth 


It  was  a  horrid  speech  to  make,  and  the  critics  told  liim 
so  frankly.  Only  a  few  years  before,  one  of  his  works 
had  been  put  aside  in  Vienna  after  two  years'  rehearsals, 
as  "impossible":  how,  under  these  circumstaiicea,  could 
he  dare  to  insinuate  that  hia  operas  could  not  be  done 
there  to  absolute  perfection?  Was  there  ever  a  man  ao 
void  of  gratitude,  so  insulting,  so  odious?  But  let  us 
draw  a  veil  over  the  painful  scene,  merely  adding,  with 
a  sense  of  relief,  that  after  Lohengrin,  he  refrained  from 
making  another  inaulting  speech;  he  even  tried  to  make 
up  for  his  former  brutal  conduct  by  personally  conduct- 
ing that  o[>era  once  —  a  very  unusual  favor — for  the 
benefit  of  the  chorua.  After  his  departure,  the  Viennese 
fell  back  on  the  old  TannkSiUSfT  and  the  old  Lohengrin 
with  all  their  imperfectlona  and  cuts :  tliey  were  shorter, 
and  allowed  the  burghers  to  get  home  before  the  porter 
had  locked  the  front  door,  and  thus  save  their  five  cents. 
Not  long  after  these  incidents  in  Vienna,  Wagner  went 
to  Berlin  to  assist  at  the  premiere  of  Tristan.  Emperor 
William  himself  took  a  special  intei-est  in  this  event;  he 
even  attended  the  dress  rehearsal,  and  directed  that  the 
receipts  of  the  first  performance  should  be  handed  over 
to  the  Bayreuth  funds,  which  thus  gained  the  handsome 
addition  of  almost  $4000  —  an  almost  unprecedented  sum 
for  the  Berlin  Opera.  The  press  was  still  for  the  most 
part  hostile;  but  the  performance  was  a  good  one,  and  a 
part  of  the  audience,  at  any  rate,  appreciated  the  grandeur 
of  the  drama;  not  all,  however;  for,  according  to  Paul 
Lindau,  "the  mournful  melody  of  the  Breton  shepherd  at 
the  beginning  of  the  last  act,  provoked  an  unfortunate 
outbreak  of  hilarity.  The  public,  unable  to  see  the 
shepherd,  did  not  know  what  the  blowing  behind  the 


1 


NIBELUNQ  AND  OTHER  BEREAB8AL8       293 

scene  signified!"    Happened  at  the  Metropolis  of  Cos- 
mic Intelligence,  on  March  20, 18761 

On  June  3d  the  preparations  for  the  Nibdun^a  Ring 
were  actively  resumed  at  Bayreuth.  They  began  with 
separate  rehearsals  of  the  instrumental  groups  and 
of  the  vocalists.  No  less  than  six  weeks  were  thus 
required  to  reach  the  end  of  the  Tetralogy.  The  second 
series  of  rehearsals  was  brought  to  an  end  in  two  weeks, 
each  day  being  devoted  to  a  separate  act;  and  not  till 
the  third  series,  the  Hauptprobeuy  was  a  complete  drama 
gone  over  each  time;  the  same  being  done,  of  course,  at 
the  Oeneralproben,  or  what  we  call  the  dress  rehearsals. 
All  the  singers  and  players  had  arrived  in  town  promptly. 
The  orchestra,  numbering  113,  — double  the  size  of  the 
usual  operatic  orchestras, —  with  Wilhelmj  as  leader  of 
the  violins,  took  its  place  in  the  mystic  abyss,  which,  if 
it  was  hot  and  prevented  them  from  seeing  either  the 
spectators  or  the  stage,  offered,  on  the  other  hand,  this 
midsummer  advantage,  that  the  players  needed  no  full 
dress,  but  could  play  in  shirt  sleeves  —  a  privilege  which 
many  made  use  of,  including  Hans  Kichter,  who  could 
be  seen,  of  course,  from  the  stage,  but  not  from  the 
auditorium. 

Some  readers  may  wonder  why  Wagner  himself  did  not 
on  this  occasion  display  his  universally  admired  skill  as 
a  conductor  by  assuming  the  bS,ton  personally.  In  the 
first  place,  because  he  had  perfect  confidence  in  Hans 
Kichter;  secondly,  because  he  was  needed  to  supervise 
not  only  the  orchestra,  but  the  scenic  arrangements,  and 
every  gesture,  tone,  and  facial  expression  of  the  singers. 
His  usual  place,  as  already  stated,  was  at  a  small  table 
where  the  prompter's  box  would  have  been  if  he  had 


294  FSOil  MUNICH  TO  BAYBEUTa 

permitted  such  a  nuisance  in  his  theatre.  But  every 
moment  he  would  jump  np  to  arrange  a  group,  phrase  a 
bar  for  a  singer,  aet  the  mise-en-st^ne  right,  or  ask  the 
orchestra  to  repeat  a  passage.  A  little  bridge  had  been 
built  for  him  across  the  mystic  abyss,  so  that  he  could 
easily  cross  into  the  auditorium  to  study  a  scenic  or 
a{.^oustic  effect;  thus  he  was  active  all  the  time,  working 
harder  than  any  of  his  assistants.  ^Nor  did  his  sixty- 
three  years  hold  him  back  from  any  acrobatic  experi- 
ment. When,  at  one  rehearsal,  Alberieh  hesitated,  at  the 
end  of  the  first  Rhehigold  scene,  to  trust  himself  to  the 
apparatus  which  precipitates  him  from  the  high  rock  to 
the  bed  of  the  Rhine,  Wagner  pushed  him  aaide  and 
went  through  the  performance  for  him.  The  Bayreuth 
turners  who  offered  their  services  as  Nibelungs,  were,  by 
his  example,  so  completely  transformed  into  dwarfish, 
crawling  gnomes,  that  no  one  would  have  suspected  what 
fine  examples  of  physical  development  they  were;  and  so 
on,  in  regard  to  every  detail.  In  this  universal  stage- 
genius  Wagner  never  had  a  parallel,  and  it  was  no  idle 
boast  of  his  when  he  once  wrote  to  a  friend  that  if  he 
had  the  voice  of  a  Tichatschek  he  would  do  something  to 
astonish  theatre-goers. 

The  real  Wagner  is  admirably  revealed  in  two  notices 
which  he  posted  behind  the  scenes,  and  in  the  mystic 
abyss :  — 

"  To  THE  SiNOERS ;  Distill clnesB,  the  large  notes  come  of  tbem- 
selves,  the  small  notes  and  their  text  are  the  main  thing.  Never 
»ay  anything  to  the  public.  In  monologaes  always  look  up  or 
down,  never  straight  ahead.  Laat  wish :  preserve  me  jour  good 
will,  my  friends." 

In  the  orchestra  this  brief  notice  was  posted:  "No 


THE  FIB8T  BATREUTH  FESTIVAL  295 

preludizing!  Piano,  pianissimo,  then  all  will  be  well." 
In  connection  with  this  last  direction,  it  is  interesting 
to  read  an  observation  made  by  Boswell  Forges :  ^  — 

*^  At  the  rehearsals  of  the  Nibelung^s  Ring  it  was  found  neces- 
saiy  hi  many  places  to  moderate  the  dynamic  marks,  substituting 
a  forte  for  a  fortissimo,  a  mezzoforte  for  a  forte,  etc.  This  was 
done  for  the  reason  above  all  to  enable  the  singer  to  enounce  his 
tone  and  word  distinctly.  .  .  .  This  relation  of  the  dynamic  force 
of  the  singer  to  the  orchestra  was  frequently  discussed  during  the 
rehearsals,  and  the  Meister  repeatedly  made  use  of  his  favorite 
comparison  —  that  the  orchestra  should  always  bear  the  singer  as 
the  agitated  sea  bears  a  boat,  but  without  ever  putting  it  in  danger 
of  capsizing  or  of  sinking.*' 

Another  observation  by  Forges  contains  a  whole  treatise 
on  conducting,  in  a  nutshell :  — 

**  Special  attention  was  called  by  the  Meister  to  the  fact  that  the 
Walhalla  theme,  in  all  those  places  where  it  appears  as  the  expres- 
sion of  a  present  situation,  should  be  played  in  a  stately  manner, 
slowly,  and  with  broad  sonority  ;  whereas  in  places  where  it  only 
appears  in  the  orchestra  as  a  reminiscent  motive  (as,  for  example, 
in  Sieglinde^s  narrative  in  the  Walkiire)  it  should  be  played  some- 
what faster,  and  with  less  emphasizing  of  the  rhythmic  accents, 
somewhat  like  the  light  and  careless  stress  which  actors  place  on  a 
parenthetic  sentence.^' 

But  we  must  hurry  on  to  the  Festival  itself,  the  most 
interesting  and  important  event  in  the  history  of  music. 

THE  FIRST  BAYREUTH  FESTIVAL 

When  Liszt  was  first  informed  of  the  mammoth  project 
of  a  Nibelung  Trilogy  to  be  produced  at  a  special  Nibe- 
lung  Festival,  he  urged  his  enterprising  friend  to  go 

1  BayretUher  BUUter,  Jane,  1880. 


S- 


4  . 

■    .      l" 


296  FROM  MUNICH  TO  BATBEUTB 

ahead  undauntedly  with  his  work,  for  which  the  same 
motto  might  be  adopted  as  that  placed  before  the  anhi- 
tocts  of  the  Seville  Cathedral  by  the  cathedral  authorities : 
"Build  U3  such  a  temple  that  future  generations  will 
have  to  say  the  ecclesiastics  were  crazy  to  undertake  such 
an  extraordinary  thing.  And  yet  the  Cathedral  stands!  " 
Tliat  was  written  in  1851 ;  and  exactly  twenty-five  years 
later  the  Bayreuth  Theatre  stood,  ready  for  the  Nibelung 
Trilogy.  Was  Wagner  crazy  when  he  undertook  this 
scheme?  His  contemporaries  seemed  to  think  so.  The 
"gentlemen  of  the  press"  exhausted  their  ingenuity  in 
inventing  pet  names  for  "Jlia  Majesty  Richard  the 
First,"  the  "Infallible  music-Pope,"  and  "Shah  of  Bay- 
reuth," He  was  called  a  "charlatan,"  "royal  Bavarian 
niffian,"  "enfant  terrible,"  "fool,"  "musical  Helioga- 
balus,"  "swallower  of  Jews,"  ditto  of  Frenchmen, 
"musical  Ijasaalle,"  "Bavarian  lunatic,"  "mipriscMe 
Bavarois,"  "song  murderer,"  "plagiarist"  of  Berlioz,  of 
Mendelssohn,  and  of  Offenbach  (fact!),  "Saxon  school- 
master," "Thersites,"  "Vandal  of  art,"  "Don  Quixote," 
"Musical  Miinclihausen,"  and  so  on.  As  even  Mr. 
Joseph  Bennett  waa  obliged  to  confess  in  1876:  "Wag- 
ner has  been  the  butt  of  ridicule  for  more  than  twenty 
years,  and  the  answer  to  it  all  is  —  Bayreuth." 

Royalty,  genius,  talent,  curiosity,  and  envy  travelled 
to  this  remote  Bavarian  town  to  see  the  work  of  his  life- 
time. The  former  rebel  and  twelve-years'  political  exile 
was  now  the  host  of  German  and  foreign  royalty.  Two 
Emperors,  a  King,  three  Grand  Dukes,  besides  dukes, 
counts,  and  other  representatives  of  the  aristocracy  by 
the  score,  appeared  as  patrons  and  spectatora :  Emperor 
William  I.,  Dom  Pedro  of  Brazil,  King  Ludwig  II.,  the 


THE  FIRST  BAYREVTH  FESTIVAL  297 

Grand  Dukes  of  Weimar,  of  Baden,  and  of  Mecklenburg, 
the  Duke  of  Anhalt,  Prince  Wladimir  of  Russia,  Prince 
William  of  Hessen.  The  Viceroy  of  Egypt  and  the 
Sultan  of  Turkey  were  also  patrons,  but  did  not  appear 
personally.  As  for  musicians,  four  countries  at  any  rate 
had  their  greatest  masters  there,  —  Liszt  representing 
Hungary,  Saint-Saens  France,  Grieg  Norway,  and  Wag- 
ner himself  Germany.  Grerman  art  was  well  represented, 
but  the  German  composers  and  musicians  —  major  and 
minor  —  were  conspicuous  by  their  absence :  why  should 
they  have  contributed  their  mite  to  the  glorification 
of  a  rival?  ^ 

The  first  of  the  royal  personages  to  arrive  was  King 
Ludwig.  Having  a  strong  aversion  to  crowds  and 
demonstrations,  he  managed  to  escape  the  multitude  by 
leaving  the  train  a  few  miles  outside  the  town.  Here  a 
carpet  was  spread  from  the  track  to  his  carriage,  and 
Wagner  and  the  Mayor  of  Bayreuth  were  present  to 
receive  him  and  accompany  him  to  his  residence  at  the 
Eremitage.  The  King  attended  the  last  series  of  rehear- 
sals, but  not  the  first  performances,  possibly  because  he 
had  no  desire  just  then  to  meet  the  Emperor,  although 
that  monarch  was  there  by  his  special  invitation.  Per- 
haps King  Ludwig's  penchant  for  private  performances 
had  something  to  do  with  his  actions.  On  the  RheingM 
night  no  spectator  was  permitted  in  any  part  of  the  house 
except  in  the  gallery,  out  of  the  King's  sight;  but  the 
empty  house  proving  injurious  to  the  acoustic  effect^ 
many  others  were  admitted  to  the  last  three  dramas,  at 
the  King's  special  request.     After  the  curtain  had  fallen 

^  The  Berlin  NatiowU  Zeitung  pablished  a  trinrnphaiit  lift  of  iaiiioiit 
people  who  were  not  at  Bayreuth  I 


298  FROM  MUJflCB  TO  BAYSBUTB 

on  tbe  GdUerddmmeruTig,  the  monarch  sent  a  message  of 
thanks  to  the  artists,  saying  that  he  would  remember 
these  days  as  among  tbe  most  delightfu]  in  his  life.  He 
then  left  Bayreuth,  but  returned  for  the  third  series  ten 
days  later. 

Emperor  William  arrived  on  Aug.  12,  the  day  before 
the  first  performance.  He  was  received  at  the  station 
by  Wagner,  the  Mayor,  and  an  immense  concourse  of 
visitors  and  natives.  After  the  brief  reception  cere- 
monies, the  Emperor  drove  to  the  Eremitic,  through 
the  town,  which  was  gay  with  flags  and  with  young  fir- 
trees  placed  along  the  sidewalks.  The  usual  fine  Kaiser- 
weather  had  followed  his  Majesty,  who  looked  twenty 
years  younger  than  he  waa,  and  unlike  the  shy  King 
Ludwig,  seemed  to  love  the  curious  multitude,  to  whose 
signs  of  homage  he  replied  with  smiles  and  bows.  He 
complimented  Wagner  on  the  success  of  his  undertaking, 
adding:  "I  did  not  believe  you  would  be  able  to  carry  it 
through."  In  the  evening  the  enthusiastic  Bayreuthers, 
who  had  never  seen  an  emperor  in  their  town  before, 
had  a  grand  torchlight  procession  to  the  Eremitage. 

On  the  following  day  the  Kaiser  requested  to  see  the 
theatre  and  the  "mystic  abyss,"  where  his  "court  musi- 
cians had  to  perspire,"  and  In  the  evening  he  was  in  his 
seat  at  seven,  with  his  usual  punctuality.  He  remained, 
however,  only  to  bear  Mkeingold  and  Walkiire  —  to  the 
ill-concealed  pleasure  of  the  Philistines,  who  saw  in  this 
"desertion"  a  great  chance  for  jokes  and  comments. 
Jullien,  as  usual,  follows  the  foolish  newspaper  talk, 
remarking  that "  Wagner  was  not  the  man  ever  to  forgive 
the  Emperor  for  this."  Now,  there  would  have  been 
nothing  strange  or  discreditable  to  any  one  concerned,  if 


THE  FIE8T  BATREUTH  FESTIVAL  299 

the  Emperor  had  found  the  Tetralogy  uninteresting. 
Unlike  Frederick  the  Great  and  his  own  nephew,  Wil- 
liam II.,  Kaiser  Wilhelm  was  not  at  all  musical,  and  the 
opera  was  to  him  little  more  than  a  pleasant  form  of 
court  ceremony.  But  I  have  positive  proof  that  he  never 
intended  to  remain  for  a  whole  Kibelung  Cyclus.  It  lies 
in  this  Berlin  despatch  printed  in  the  German  newspapers 
on  Aug.  2, 1876 :  — 

(*  The  Emperof,  in  reply  to  King  Ludwig  of  Bavarians  invitation 
to  attend  the  Wagner  performances  at  Bayreuth,  has  com  missioned 
General  v.  d.  Tann  with  the  delivery  of  an  extremely  cordial  auto- 
graph letter,  in  which  he  accepts  the  invitation,  his  health  permit- 
ting, to  attend  said  performances.  Should  the  Emperor  therefore 
undertake  a  trip  to  Bayreuth,  he  would  be  there  in  the  interval 
between  the  13th  and  16th,  and  attend  a  part  of  the  fint  eerieM  of 
performances."  ^ 

It  was  fortunate  for  the  royalty  and  aristocracy  gath- 
ered on  this  occasion  that  Bayreuth  had  once  been  a 
Eesidenzstadt,  so  that  there  were  several  castles  available 

^  Considering  all  the  cirenmstances  of  the  case,  it  was,  indeed,  quite 
remarkable  that  the  Emperor  shoald  have  come  to  Bajrrenth  at  till.  In 
connection  with  this  matter  it  is  of  interest  to  read  a  letter  he  once 
addressed  to  Intendant  von  Hiilsen  (printed  in  Hel^ne  von  Hulsen's 
biography  of  her  husband) :  *'  My  daughter,  the  Orandduchess  of  Baden, 
has  asked  me  if  it  were  not  possible  to  give  in  Berlin  one  of  Wagner's 
latest  operas,  which  form,  I  believe,  a  cyclus.  I  know  of  these  works 
nothing  further  than  that  Liszt  at  Weimar  tried  to  read  them,  but  that 
the  notes  are  said  to  be  so  crazy  that  the  idea  of  a  performance  was  at 
ooce  abandoned.  I  therefore  b^  you  for  information  regarding  this 
matter.  Wagner's  desire  to  rehearse  his  work  personally  is  a  political 
question,  which  would  have  to  be  decided  separately."  We  can  imagine 
what  Hiilsen's  answer  to  this  note  was.  The  last  sentence  of  the 
Emperor's  note  shows  that  it  must  have  been  written  before  1861  while 
Wagner  was  stiU  an  exile.  Had  Hiilsen  been  great  enough  to  appre- 
ciate Wagner's  genius,  there  is  reason  to  think  that  Kaiser  WUbelm 
might  have  anticipated  King  Ludwig  in  coming  to  his  rescue.  Thanks 
to  Hfilsen  he  lost  this  opportunity  of  adding  another  Jewel  to  his  crown. 


300  FROM  MUNICH  TO  BATREUTB 

for  their  headquarters.     The  other  visitors  fared  let 
sumptuously.     The  artists  themselves'  were  ejuarteri 
among  the  inhabitants,  while  several  of  them  found  (X>iii4 
fortahle  rooms  in  the  local  prison  and  the  lunatic  aaylu; 
At  the  hotels  the  price  of  rooms  rose  from  fifty  cents  to  I 
two  and  three  dollars  a  day.     But  the  chief  difficulty  v 
to  get  something  to  eat.     The  small  hotels  could  acoom- 
modate  only  their  own  guests,  and  of  restaurants  there 
were  only  a  few.     i  remember  a  characteristic  scene  at    , 
LochmQller's,  the   principal   restaurant   at  that   time,  j 
Every  one  at  the  crowded  tables  was   imploring  thfl-J 
waiters  to  serve  them,  and  finally  the  majority  decided  i 
that  they  might  save  an  hour  or  two  by  waiting  on  them- 
selves.    So  they  all  crowded  around  the  buffet,  ready  to 
grasp  whatever  appeared  from  the  kitchen;  while  the 
waiters,  pushed  aside,  stood  in  a  comer,  and  one  of 
them  sarciistically  suggested  to  his  companions  that  they 
■hould  sit  down  and  let  the  guests  wait  on  them.' 

But  the  most  Boliemian  scenes  were  to  be  witnessed  at 
Angermann's,  the  leading  beer  tavern.  This  had  been 
for  years  one  of  Wagner's  favorite  resorts,  although  its 
appearance  was  anything  but  inviting:  low,  dark  rooms, 
primitive  wooden  chairs  and  tables,  felt  mats  for  the  beer- 
glasses.     Here  he  used  to  sit,  entertaining  his  friends 

1  Tbe  orchestral  musicians  received  free  lodgings  and  board,  besides 
travellinc  expensea  and  S4S  A  nionlli. 

3  At  later  restivala  matters  irere  miioh  improved,  but  tbe  medinval 
spirit  had  DOC  yet  quite  disappeared.  One  day  I  went  with  several 
tiienils  to  a  restaurant  and  asked  if  we  cnuld  onler  our  dinner  tor  next 
da;.  We  were  told  we  could,  and  bo  we  could  ;  but  wlien  we  arrived 
neil  day,  we  found  that  there  was  nothint;  but  the  reipilar  dinner, — 
chiefly  potk.  As  we  did  not  care  for  pork  In  midsummer,  we  qaietlj 
look  our  liBt«  and  walked  down  stairs.  Just  before  we  reached  the 
bottom  the  landlord  put  his  bead  over  the  balustrade  and  staouted, 
"  Call  again  in  ten  yefusi  " 


THM  FIBST  BATREUTH  FESTIVAL  801 

with  jokes,  anecdotes,  and  reminiscences.  "  Then  when 
the  room  was  echoing  with  laughter/'  Lesimple  relates, 
^*  he  knocked  with  his  glass  for  the  waitress,  ^Brfinnhilde,' 
and,  provided  with  new  supplies,  continued  his  animated 
narrative."  The  presence  of  a  single  unsympathetic 
person,  however,  would  at  once  put  him  "out  of  tune." 
Even  during  the  rehearsals  this  tavern  was  found  inade- 
quate to  the  demands  made  on  it,  and  one  could  see 
conductors,  tenors,  sopranos,  chorus,  and  soloists,  besides 
orchestral  players,  sitting  outdoors  on  beer-kegs,  or 
even  on  the  curbstone,  a  glass  in  one  hand,  a  sandwich 
in  the  other.  During  the  performances,  even  beer-kegs 
and  curbstones  were  at  a  premium,  and  lucky  he  who, 
by  waiting  on  himself,  could  secure  a  sausage  and  a  glass 
of  foaming  "Bavarian." 

The  projector  of  the  Festival  had  by  no  means  over- 
looked the  culinary  side  of  the  problem.  A  restaurant 
had  been  built  near  the  theatre,  where  sandwiches  could 
be  obtained  as  well  as  a  regular  supper.  This  supper 
was  to  be,  indeed,  part  of  the  regular  programme.  It 
has  often  been  urged  against  Wagner's  music-dramas 
that  they  make  too  great  demands  on  our  attention  and 
our  powers  of  physical  endurance,  especially  after  a  day's 
hard  work,  such  as  falls  to  the  lot  of  most  mortals.  The 
desire  to  obviate  this  objection  was  one  of  the  motives 
leading  to  the  selection  of  Bayreuth,  in  preference  to  a 
large  city.  Here,  as  at  the  Olympic  festivals  in  ancient 
Greece,  the  spectators  would  come  into  the  theatre,  not 
to  seek  a  frivolous  and  shallow  entertainment,  for  tired 
brains;  but  they  would  take  their  recreation  in  the  day- 
time, walking  and  driving  in  the  bracing  mountain  air, 
amid  the  varied  scenes  of  the  Franconian  Switzerland; 


s 


302  FROM  MUmCS  TO  BATBBUTB 

while  toward  the  close  of  the  day  they  would  assemble, 
with  fresh  energies,  tor  serious  appreeiatioQ  of  an  art- 
work which  cajinot  be  enjoyed  passively,  like  a  cup  of 
coffee,  but  calls  for  active  intellectual  and  emotional 
participation  on  the  spectator's  part.  Aa  a  further 
precaution  against  fatigue,  arrangement  was  made  for 
having,  between  the  acts,  interiuiasions  of  about  an  hour's 
duration,  during  which  the  audience  could  seek  refresh- 
ment in  a  walk,  conversation,  lunch,  or  a  regular  supper; 
BO  that  every  brain  came  fresh  to  the  third  act,  which 
in  most  of  Wagner's  dramas  ia  the  best.  To  prevent 
any  one  from  being  left  out,  a  motive  from  the  drama 
that  was  to  be  given  was  blown  by  brass  players  twice 
—  ten  and  five  minutes  before  the  resumption  of  the 
music.  The  result  was  that  every  one  was  in  his  place 
several  minutes  before  the  overture  began  —  a  reform 
for  which  alone  Wagner  would  deaerve  to  be  placed  in 
the  calendar  of  saints.  No  one,  absolutely,  was  admitted 
after  the  doors  had  been  closed.' 

The  first  performance  of  Rheingold  was  postponed,  by 
special  placard,  from  five  o'clock  to  aeven,  because  the 
Emperor  of  Brazil  was  unable  to  arrive  on  time.  But 
this  made  no  difference,  aa  that  Vorspiel  to  the  Trilogy 
lasts  less  than  three  hours.  When  the  distinguished  and 
motley  crowd,  representing  every  civilized  country  on 
the  globe  —  including  "  the  United  States  and  California, " 
as  a  German  paper  had  it  —  entered  the  auditorium, 
every  one  was  surprised  at  the  novelty  of  the  theatre  — 
original,  like  everything  emanating  from  Wagner's  mind. 

<  It  iru  related  on  the  Walkiire  evening  that  millioanslre  Rothschild 
of  ViendR  had  tlius  lost  one  act  —  probably  because  he  bad  Ungered  too 
loDg  in  queet  o[  aaaDdwicta  ora  Wiener  Wiiriil, 


THS  FIB8T  BATRBUTH  FB8TIVAL  808 

What  impressed  connoissenrs  especially  —  apart  from 
the  features  already  described — was  the  absence  of  a 
chandelier,  and  the  smallness  of  the  auditorium,  the 
desirability  of  which  Gr^try  had  already  mentioned  as  a 
feature  of  his  ideal  theatre,  while  Berlioz  has  given  us 
the  philosophy  of  the  matter  in  the  remark  that  "  sound 
beyond  a  certain  distance,  although  we  may  still  hear  it, 
is  like  a  flame  that  we  see,  but  the  warmth  of  which  we 
do  not  feel."  Finally,  when  the  stage  picture  was  to  be 
revealed,  after  the  mystic  Bheingold  prelude,  we  did  not 
see  a  painted  curtain  stiffly  rolled  up,  but  there  was  a 
real  curtain,  divided  in  the  middle,  and  pushed  aside  as 
by  invisible  hands. 

The  artists  who  took  part  in  the  performance  were 
Betz  (Wotan),  Vogl  (Loge),  Hill  (Alberich),  Schlosser 
(Mime),  Gura  (Donner),  Eilers  (Fasolt),  Reichenberg 
(Fafner),  and  the  Misses  Lilli  and  Marie  Lehmann  and 
Marie  Lammert  as  the  Khine-maidens,  whose  enchanting 
song  first  interrupts  the  orchestral  mirroring  of  the  flow- 
ing waters  of  the  Khine.  All  these  artists  acquitted 
themselves  creditably,  although  several  of  them  had  but 
lately  been  introduced  to  the  new  vocal  style.  Vogl  was 
even  loudly  applauded  after  Loge's  narrative,  to  the  dis- 
gust of  the  true  Wagnerites,  who  object  to  this  silly  and 
vicious  method  of  distinguishing  a  singer  at  the  expense 
of  the  music,  and  who,  of  course,  did  not  join  in  this 
foolish  and  ill-timed  applause.^    When  the  curtain  closed 

1  Such  applaoae  is  really  an  inmlt  to  the  composer  and  his  work, 
which  no  true  admirer  would  be  guilty  of.  Yet,  with  amusing  naivete, 
Paul  Lindau  found  in  the  fact  tliat  this  narrative,  which,  he  thinks, 
approaches  in  form  the  older  **  operatic  melody/'  alone  was  speciaUy 
applauded,  ao  argument  against  the  Wagnerian  form  of  the  musio- 
dramal 


304  FBOM  MUNICH  TO  BAYBSUTB 


upon  the  last  scene,  a  storm  of  applause  arose ;  it  lasted 
fullj  ten  miautea,  with  calls  for  Wagner  and  the  artists; 
but  DO  oae  appeared,  although  two  Emperors  and  three 
Grand  Dukes  were  among  those  waiting.  On  the  follow- 
ing day  a  notice  was  posted  up  begging  the  public  not 
to  take  it  ill  that  their  generous  applause  had  not  been 
responded  to,  as  it  was  the  firm  intention  of  all  the 
artists  engaged  in  the  enterprise  not  to  show  themselves 
on  the  stage  eKcept  In  the  rflles  assigned  to  them.  Those 
who  know  the  usual  vanity  of  singers  —  tlieir  pettiness 
in  regard  to  precedence  on  a  programme,  the  size  of  the 
type,  etc.  —  will  realize  that  in  thus  getting  the  consent 
of  all  his  vocalists  to  merge  their  personalities  and  vani-  i 
ties  entirely  in  their  roles,  Wagner  had  won  another  i 
tremendous  victory  for  art. 

Nor  did  he  wish  to  appear  himself,  although  that  would 
have  marred  no  stage  illusion.  He  disliked  ovations  of 
that  sort,  and,  moreover,  it  was  said  that  lie  had  left  the 
theatre  before  the  close  of  the  drama,  displeased  by  acci- 
dents and  shortcomings  in  the  scenic  department,  on 
which  so  much  depends  in  Sheingold.  There  had  been, 
especially,  an  unfortunate  hitch  in  cha)iging  from  the 
first  scene  to  the  second.  This  was  merely  due  to  the 
nervousness  of  the  workmen;  it  had  not  occurred  at 
the  last  rehearsal,  not  did  it  occur  at  subsequent  repeti- 
tions. But  the  house  was  full  of  hostile  critics,  and 
Wagner  knew  that  all  the  world  would  now  be  informed 
by  telegraph  or  by  letter  that  the  Rkeingohi  scenery  was 
no  better  than  it  had  been  at  Munich  when  Hans  Eiehter 
refused  to  conduct.  This  is  precisely  what  the  "gentle- 
men of  the  press"  did.  Overlooking  the  magnificent 
realism  and  perfect  illusion  of  the  first  scene  where  the 


« 


TBS  FIB8T  BAYBEUTH  FESTIVAL  805 

Khine-maidens  seemed  actually  to  swim  about  under  the 
water;  the  splendid  subterranean  scenes  among  the  Kibe- 
lung  dwarfs,  the  stately  Walhalla  castle  on  the  mountain, 
and  the  superbly  realistic  storm  and  lightning,  when  Don- 
ner  has  gathered  the  dark  clouds;  ignoring  the  fine  effect 
of  the  colored  steam  in  place  of  the  curtain  which  is  usu- 
ally intruded  and  mars  the  illusion;  ignoring  the  general 
superiority  of  the  scenic  arrangements  to  those  seen  at 
opera-houses  —  a  really  painted  sky,  and  no  flimsy  back- 
grounds and  unrealistic  corners,  —  they  condemned  the 
entire  stage  setting  because  of  that  accidental  hitch,  and 
because  the  rainbow  bridge  over  which  the  gods  marched 
was  not  perfect,  and  the  snake  into  which  Alberich 
changed  himself  produced  a  '^  comic  effect " ! 

A  few  shortcomings,  I  may  as  well  add  in  this  place, 
occurred  in  the  following  dramas;  the  duel  amid  the 
clouds  in  the  WnUkiire  was  a  failure,  and  the  last  scene 
in  the  Gdtterddmmerung  —  an  enormously  difficult  one 
—  was  far  from  perfect,  while  the  dragon  in  Siegfried 
was  an  unwieldy  and  not  very  convincing  beast.  (It  had 
been  ordered  from  England,  and  arrived  in  an  incomplete 
form.)  But  who  was  to  blame  for  this?  Not  Wagner 
or  his  assistant  Brandt;  the  lack  of  funds  was  the  cause, 
and  at  the  bottom  of  it  all  were  these  same  journalists 
who  were  now  scoffing  at  what  was  really  their  work: 
their  persistent  misrepresentation  of  Wagner,  their  ridi- 
culing of  his  enterprise,  had  prevented  the  Grernuui 
people  from  taking  an  interest  in  Bayreuth  in  sufficiently 
large  numbers  to  make  it  possible  to  procure  all  the 
scenic  materials  just  as  they  were  needed  and  planned. 

On  Aug.  14  the  first  Bayreuth  performance  of  the 
WaJkiire  was  given,  the  cast  including  Matema  (Brtinn- 


S06  FROM  MUmCn   TO  BATBEUTB 

hilde),  Niemann  (Siegmund),  Scheffzky  (Sieglinde), 
Betz  (Wotao),  Niering  (Hunding),  Griln  (Frieka), 
while  the  eight  Valkyries  included  auch  names  as 
Lilli  Lehmann,  Reicher-Kindermann,  J achmann- Wag- 
ner, Jaida;  it  was  a  chorus  of  priiua  donnaa,  and  its 
effect  on  the  audience  was  electrifying.  That  Matema, 
Niemann,  and  Betz  were  superb  in  their  rSles,  the  present 
generation  need  not  be  told.  But  it  was  in  the  two 
dramas  following  that  Matema  firat  showed  to  what 
supecb  heights  her  art  could  rise  under  Wagner's  guid- 
ance. Owing  to  Unger's  indisposition,  Siegfried  had  to 
be  postponed  till  Aug.  16.  Its  cast  embraced  Unger 
(Siegfried),  Matema  (BrUnnhUde),  Betz  (Wotan),  Schlos- 
ser  (Mime),  Hill  (Alberich),  Reichenberg  (Fafnet),  Jatda 
(Erda),  Lilli  Lehmann  (Forest  Bird).  The  Omerddm- 
merung  followed  on  Aug.  17,  with  Siegfried,  Brilnnhilde, 
Alberich,  and  the  Rhine -daughters  the  same  as  in  the  pre- 
ceding dramas,  besides  Gura  (Guntber),  Siehr  (Hagen), 
Weckerlin  (Gutrune),  Jaida  (Waltraute).  There  Is  no 
space  here  to  discuss  these  performances  in  detail.  In 
general,  however,  it  must  be  said  that  while  some  of 
the  Bayrenth  artists  have  since  sung  even  better  than 
they  did  in  1876,  and  while  some  of  the  roles  have 
since  been  better  interpreted,  —  notably  is  the  Siegfried 
of  Alvary  and  of  Vogl  better  than  Unger's  was, — 
yet  there  was  something  in  the  Bayrenth  ensemble 
that  I  have  always  missed  elsewhere,  and  especially  in 
that  constant  adaptation  of  action  to  orchestra,  bar  by 
bar,  which  adds  so  much  to  the  eloquence  of  the  music, 
and  to  the  understanding  and  vividness  of  the  plot. 
There  has  never  been  a  stage-manager  equal  to  Wagner. 


A  SCANDALOUS  SPEECH  807 


A  SCANDALOUS  SPEECH 

At  the  close  of  the  Oi^erdiimmerung,  the  applause  was 
so  tumultuous  and  so  persistent  that  Wagner  found  it 
impossible  to  withstand  any  longer.  He  appeared  on 
the  stage  and  spoke  these  words:  ''To  your  favor,  and 
to  the  infinite  exertions  of  my  cooperating  artists,  you 
owe  this  deed.  What  I  have  to  say  to  you  besides  this 
might  be  summed  up  in  a  few  words,  in  an  axiom.  You 
have  seen  what  we  can  do;  it  is  now  for  you  to  will. 
And  if  you  will,  we  shall  have  an  art ! "  Bowed  and 
disappeared  amid  renewed  applause.  Now,  if  Wagner 
had  fallen  down  from  the  sky  and  never  written  a  line 
about  his  art  previous  to  this  speech,  one  might  have 
imagined  him  a  very  conceited  person.  Was  there  no 
art  before  the  Nibelung^s  Ring?  Is  there  no  art  in 
Homer,  in  Dante,  in  Shakespeare,  in  Goethe?  Were  not 
Bach,  and  Mozart,  and  Beethoven  artists?  Are  not  Don 
Juan,  FideliOy  Euryanthe,  works  of  art?  Imagine  the 
colossal  vanity  of  this  man,  to  fancy  that  there  was  no 
art  before  him  I  Surely  the  Bayreuth  success  must  have 
turned  his  head!  Puschmann  was  right  —  Wagner  was 
crazy! 

Had  Wagner  never  before  this  occasion  written  a  word, 
one  might,  I  repeat,  have  interpreted  his  speech  in  this 
manner.  But  he  had  written  many  big  volumes  of 
essays  and  public  letters,  explaining  his  views  of  art, 
and  expressing  his  unbounded  admiration  for  the  great 
poets  and  composers  of  the  past.  He  had  explained 
over  and  over  and  over  again  what  his  life's  aim  was : 
the  creation  of  a  new  art,  thoroughly  German^  in  wliioli 


308  FROM  MUNICH  TO  BATBBUTB 

music  and  the  drama  would  enter  into  a  real  union,  and 
not  a  mere  association;  in  a  word,  the  music-diama.  aa 
distinguished  from  the  old-fasliioned  opera.  This  music- 
drama,  he  believed,  would  be  tlie  "art-work  of  the 
future,"  more  potent  to  move  the  feeliugs  than  music 
alone  or  the  drama  alone.  Now,  if  there  was  one  place 
in  the  world  where  he  had  reason  to  think  he  could  take 
for  panted  »oine  knowledge  of  his  viewB  on  the  part  of 
the  audience,  it  was  Bayreuth.  When  he  said,  "  if  yoi* 
will,  we  shall  now  have  an  art,"  be  never  dreamed  that 
any  one  could  be  such  an  ass  as  to  fancy  that  he  meant 
that  there  had  been  no  art  before  the  Nihelun^s  Ring. 
He  took  it  for  granted  that  every  person  endowed  with 
the  usual  intellectual  faculties  would  understand  that  he 
was  merely  expressing  in  an  epigrammatic  form,  suitable 
for  the  occasion,  his  belief  that  now  a  specimen  of  this 
new  art- work  had  been  placed  before  his  friends;  that 
he  had  done  his  part,  and  that  it  remained  for  f/iem,  if 
they  had  been  persuaded  that  this  was  the  "art-work  of 
the  future,"  to  foster  it. 

Yet,  incredible  as  it  may  seem,  the  vast  majority  of 
the  German  critics  —  either  in  ignorance  or  conscious 
malice  —  wrote  and  telegraphed  to  their  newspapers 
fierce  acid  indignant  diatribes  on  Wagner's  "vanity"  and 
"impudence,"  in  "denying  that  there  had  been  any  art 
before  his  festival  play  " !  Future  generations  will  find 
it  difficult  to  believe  this;  but  printed  documents  prov- 
ing it  exist  by  the  score,  some  of  them  —  like  those  of 
Gustav  Engel,  Paul  Lindau,  Hanslick,  etc.  —  in  pam- 
phlet and  book  form,  for  convenient  reference.  One 
would  have  to  read  many  pages  of  Mark  Twain  or 
Artemus  AVard  to  find  in  their  conscious  drollery  so 


A  SCANDALOUS  SPEECH  809 

much  food  for  laughter  as  in  the  serious  and  elaborate 
arguments  perpetrated  by  these  German  critics  to  prove 
to  the  ignorant  and  conceited  Wagner  that  there  were 
great  men  and  real  works  of  art  before  him.  Names  of 
authors  and  works  are  carefully  given^  and  the  argument 
usually  closes  with  a  defiant  air  of  '^Now  then,  Mr. 
Wagner,  what  do  you  say  to  that?  " 

So  great,  indeed,  was  the  scandal  produced  by  Wagner's 
speech,  even  at  Bayreuth,  that  he  found  it  necessary  at 
a  banquet,  on  Aug.  18,  at  which  about  seven  hundred 
artists  and  visitors  were  present,  to  explain,  in  the 
course  of  a  long  address,  what  he  had  really  meant  by 
his  epigrammatic  utterance  —  a  new,  Oerman  art,  free 
from  foreign  elements.  Upon  which  Paul  Lindau  com- 
ments (seriously  f)  that  ''he  explained  that  if  he  had 
said  'A,'  he  obviously  had  not  meant  'A,'  but  something 
entirely  different."  Paul  Lindau  also  explains  what 
Wagner  shatM  have  said,  and  would  have  said  if  he  had 
not  been  the  conceited  and  ungrateful  wretch  he  was :  — 

**  In  this  hour,  when  thousands  from  all  parts  of  Germany  and 
foreign  countries  had  at  his  bidding  travelled  to  a  remote  town, 
with  sacrifices  of  time,  money,  comfort,  rest,  recreation,  —  in  this 
hour  the  only  word  which  must  have  welled  from  an  overflowing 
artist-heart  and  forced  itself  through  the  lips,  was  a  word  of  sin- 
cere, deep,  inexpressible  gratitude — of  thanks  to  the  artists,  thanks 
to  his  faithful  friends,  who  had  tirelessly  supported  him,  thanks  to 
the  public  which  had  come  at  his  call.  .  .  .  Like  a  shower-bath 
his  words,  cold,  and  without  emotion  or  joy,  fell  on  all  of  us. 
What !  Even  yet  not  enough  ?ias  been  done  for  Wagner f  .  .  • 
Strange,  most  strange !  *' 

Strange,  most  strange,  indeed!  Has  Paul  Lindau  ever 
read  the  following  remarks  made  by  a  certain  (German 


_..„  Micayg  vianted  to  have  me  d; 
(Ac  Lord  tn  make  inc.     After  I  ha< 
pkase  (Ae  world  with  a  neio  leork,  1 
thmk  prapte  /or  hnjtng  /owrf  it  a 
e*ietd  praite,  I  wot  txptfUd  Mt  to  < 
6v(  to  dscIfiM  it  \Bilh  totae  moit^  Jk 
flMtd  the  utter  unuorrAirMM  ((^  nqr 
however,  mp  nature  rebels  ajai»it,  t 
mtttKtble  teamp  to  show  myt^f  <**  **■ 
noa,  *intt  I  leai  firm  enough  to  retMOl 
were,  t  wai  pronounced  pruui,  and  oi 

What  a  unique  and  dolightfn. 
of  treating  their  men  of  ^mnsl ' 

If  Wagner  did  not  take  the  o 
tain-call "  to  thiuik  the  Crennaiu 
mitted  him  to  spend  tven^-fiT 
adding  a  priceless  jewel  to  their  i 
not  even  thauk  his  artists  for  hay 
of  their  life  at  a  place  where  tl 
for  their  intematiotial  fame  in  tl 
years  at  home,  —  it  was  because  he 
gratitude  to  these  artists  and  to 
at  the  banquet  following  the  lecil 
ing  and  some  humorous  Boenes  ' 
the  fomter  was  his  tribute  to  1 
out  to  the  guests  as  the  first  wht 


A  BCANDAL0U8  SPEECH  811 

whereupon  the  two  great  artists  embraced  cordially; 
among  the  latter  was  the  presentation,  by  Madame  Lucca 
of  MilaUi  of  a  silver  laurel-wreath  to  Wagner,  who  play- 
fully kept  it  on  his  head,  and,  in  one  of  his  gayest  moods, 
arm  in  arm  with  Frau  von  Schleinitz,  thus  passed  along 
the  tables  to  greet  his  friends. 

Concerning  the  second  and  third  series  of  performances, 
nothing  of  special  importance  remains  to  be  added  except 
that  they  were  of  course  an  improvement  on  the  first. 
The  dates  were,  for  the  second  cyclus,  Aug.  20,  21,  22, 
23;  for  the  third,  Aug.  27,  28,  29,  30.  After  the  curtain 
had  closed  for  the  last  time.  King  Ludwig  jumped  up 
from  his  seat,  and  led  the  applause.  In  a  moment  the 
whole  house  joined  with  bravos,  clapping  of  hands, 
waving  of  hats  and  handkerchiefs,  and  calls  for  Wagner, 
who  at  last  appeared  before  the  curtain  and  was  received 
with  a  shower  of  wreaths  and  bouquets,  many  of  which, 
however,  fell  down  into  the  "mystic  abyss."*  "The 
Biihnenfestspiele  are  ended;  whether  they  will  be  re- 
peated I  know  not,"  he  commenced;  then,  after  allud- 
ing to  the  purpose  of  the  enterprise,  and  the  reasons 
which  had  guided  him  in  choosing  the  term  "stage- 
festival-play,"  he  spoke  of  his  generous  patron,  the 
King,  without  whose  kind  interest  they  would  not  now 
be  assembled  for  such  a  purpose,  as  well  as  of  the  late 
Karl  Tausig,  who  had  shown  a  way  for  the  people  to  par- 
ticipate in  making  the  Festival  possible.  But  they  who 
first  enabled  him  to  bring  his  production  before  the  pub- 
lic, and  thus  to  complete  it,  were  the  artists,  and  it  was 
fitting  that  they  should  now  show  themselves.     The 

^  The  throwers  miscalculated  the  distance — proving  the  correctness 
of  Wagner's  theory  that  the  stage  would  seem  nearer  than  it  was. 


812  FBOM  MUSICB  TO  BATBEVTH 

curtain  parted  once  more,  disclosing  the  artists  standing 
in  a  semicircle  with  Hans  Ricfater  in  the  middle,  and  at 
the  aides  Doppler  and  Brandt.  To  this  circle  Wagner 
once  more  directed  his  warmest  thanks  for  their  gener- 
ous support,  and  bade  them  farewell.  Aa  the  curtain 
closed,  he  was  seen  going  around  and  shaking  hands  with 
them.  The  King,  too,  did  not  forget  to  reward  the 
principal  participants  with  orders  and  decorations,  that 
are  more  valued  by  artists  than  the  riches  of  Alberich. 
Thus  ended  the  first  Nibelung  Festival.  We  must  now 
tarn  to  the  Tetralogy  itself. 


THE  NIBELUNG'S  RING 


DAS  BHEIKGOLD 


With  the  discoveiy  of  gold  the  golden  age  came  to  an  I 
end:  in  these  words  we  might  indicate  the  keynote  of  the  / 
Prelude  to  the  Trilogy,  the  action  of  which  takes  us  back 
to  the  mythical  time  when  the  earth  was  shared  by  four 
kinds  of  beings, — gods,  giants,  dwarfs,  and  human  beings. 
The  gods  dwelt  in  the  cloud  regions,  the  giants  on  the 
mountains,  the  dwarfs  in  the  interior  of  the  earth,  and 
the  men  on  the  plains  and  in  the  forests.  Although 
these  different  classes  of  beings  were  not  always  at  peace 
with  each  other,  the  principal  source  of  strife  and  discord 
—  gold  —  had  not  yet  manifested  its  curse.  It  still 
lay  buried  in  the  earth  and  under  the  water,  and  the 
most  precious  deposit  of  it,  in  the  waters  of  the  Rhine, 
has  been  put  by  the  gods  under  the  special  protection  of 
the  three  Rhine-daughters.  It  is  placed  on  a  high  rock, 
difficult  of  access.  To  this  Rhine-gold  the  Prelude 
introduces  us. 

Scene  I.  The  stage,  from  above  to  the  floor,  represents 
a  section  of  the  Rhine;  the  water  is  continually  flowing 
from  right  to  left.  It  is  almost  dark.  As  the  twilight 
gradually  increases,  rugged  rocks  are  seen  projecting  from 
the  bed  of  the  river  almost  to  its  surface,  and  around 
these  rocks  the  three  Rhine-maidens  are  swimming,  play- 

ai8 


lu-iuettishlv,  Init  darts  out 
fancies  !,.-rsc-«irp.     Suadei 
to  a  strange  phenomeaon. 
froni  bdiindthe  mouBtains, : 
g<dd  on  the  rock.     The  malt 
great  the  morning  glitter  of 
giatiff  the  ugly  dwarfs  en 
eeciet  of  the  gold  —  that  the  ; 
it  into  a  ring,  could  become 
an  not  afraid  to  rcTcal  this 
being  as  Alberlch;  for,  as  thej 
he  who  has  ntterly  renounced 
from  the  bosom  of  the  Rhine. 
rich's  lustful  love  immediate)] 
gold  and  pover.     With  terribl 
di^  and,  cQtsing  lore,  he  Boatc 
into  the  depths  below.     The  i 
with  the  disappearance  of  the 
set  in  again,  and  nothing  is  h 
the  Bhine-maidena  mingled  in- 
of  Alberich. 

Scene  II.  While  the  music  oo 
tion,  tiie  darkened  waters  of  the 
into  cloud  vapors,  and  presen 
fetied  to  a  mountainous  regioi 
the  gods,  Wotan,  and  his  vrifp  ''■ 
l^ot  »*  *^  - 


DAS  BHEINOOLD  815 

her  look  falls  on  a  newly  completed  lofty  castle  on  the 
hill  before  them.  In  order  to  assure  himself  the  govern- 
ment of  the  world,  and  as  a  protection  against  enemiesi 
Wotan  had  made  a  contract  with  the  two  giants,  Fasolt 
and  Fafner,  to  build  this  citadel,  promising  them,  as  a 
reward,  Freia,  the  goddess  of  youth  and  beauty.  He 
knew  very  well  that  on  the  presence  of  Freia  among  the 
gods  depended  their  continued  youth  and  health;  but, 
relying  on  the  cunning  of  the  fire-god,  Loge,  to  get  him 
out  of  his  scrape,  he  had  never  intended  to  keep  his 
compact  with  the  giants.  While  Fricka  reproaches  him 
for  his  rash  contract,  Freia  suddenly  appears,  crying 
for  help:  the  giants  have  come  to  claim  their  reward. 
When  Wotan  refuses  it,  they  threaten  violence.  The 
gods,  Froh  and  Donner  (thunder)  come  to  Freia^s  assist- 
ance, and  the  matter  threatens  to  end  in  a  fight.  At 
this  juncture  Loge,  the  fire-god,  returns;  he  had  been  sent 
to  find  something  that  the  giants  might  be  willing  to 
take  as  a  substitute  for  the  beautiful  woman  promised 
them ;  but  he  relates  that  he  has  travelled  all  over  the 
world,  but  nowhere  had  he  found  anything  that  was  pre- 
ferred to  love  and  woman  until  that  very  morning,  when 
he  had  heard  of  the  Nibelung  dwarf,  Alberich,  who  had 
cursed  love  for  the  sake  of  the  Bhine-gold.  When  the 
giants  hear  of  the  qualities  of  this  gold,  their  lust  is 
aroused,  and  they  agree  to  take  it  as  a  substitute  for 
Freia  if  the  gods  will  procure  it  for  them.  Wotan 
accepts  the  offer,  and  sets  out  with  Loge  for  Nibelheim, 
the  home  of  the  dwarfs,  to  see  if  he  cannot,  through  the 
cunning  of  his  friend,  win  the  gold  from  Alberich.  They 
disappear  in  a  cleft  between  the  rocks  from  which  ascends 
a  sulphurous  vapor,  which  becomes  more  and  more  dense, 


I 


316  THE  NIBSLUNCra  BING 

while  the  whole  scene  seems  to  sink  until  we  arrive  in 
the  subterranean  home  of  the  dwarfs,  Nibelheim,  con- 
stituting 

Scene  UL  Alberich,  whose  Bing  has  already  enabled 
him  to  make  all  the  other  dwarfs  his  slaveSi  is  seen  drag- 
ging along  his  brother  Mime  by  the  ear  to  compel  him  to 
give  up  the  Tamhelm,  or  magic  helmet,  which  he,  the 
best  of  the  smiths,  had  been  commanded  to  make.  Mime 
does  not  know  that  the  possessor  of  this  helmet  can,  by 
putting  it  on,  make  himself  invisible,  or  change  himself 
into  any  form  he  pleases;  he  finds  this  out  to  his  cost 
when  Alberich  makes  himself  invisible,  and  belabors 
him  with  a  whip  for  having  tried  to  keep  the  Tamhelm; 
whereupon  his  voice  is  heard  in  the  distance  abusing  his 
Nibelung  slaves.  Loge  and  Wotan  appear.  Mime  com- 
plains to  them  how  Alberich  compels  all  the  other  dwarfs 
to  toil  in  the  rocks  day  and  night  in  order  to  win  gold 
for  him.  Alberich  returns  and  angrily  asks  the  two  gods 
what  they  are  after.  Loge  craftily  leads  him  to  speak  of 
the  Bing  and  the  Tamhelm,  and  to  describe  their  magic 
qualities.  Loge  pretends  to  doubt  these;  to  convince 
him,  Alberich  changes  himself  first  into  a  large  snake, 
then  into  a  toad :  at  this  moment  Wotan  puts  his  foot 
on  him,  Loge  snatches  the  helmet  from  his  head,  and 
Alberich  lies  there,  in  his  real  form,  in  the  power  of 
the  gods,  who  fetter  him  and  drag  him  away  into 
captivity. 

Scene  IV.  is  the  same  as  Scene  II.  Alberich  lies  in 
the  foreground,  his  hands  tied.  Wotan  commands  him 
to  summon  the  dwarfs  to  bring  up  all  the  gold  accumu- 
lated in  Nibelheim,  to  serve  as  a  ransom  for  Freia.  The 
dwarf  most  reluctantly  obeys;    the  Nibelungs  appear. 


DAS  RHEINOOLD  817 

carrying  the  treasures.  Alberich  hopes  to  get  back  his 
Tamhelmet  with  his  freedom,  but  to  his  great  rage 
Wotan  throws  that  too  on  the  pile,  and  finally  demands 
the  Ring  which  Alberich  has  on  his  finger  —  the  King 
which  ensures  supreme  power  in  the  world.  The  dwarf 
declares  he  will  sooner  part  with  his  life ;  but  the  Bing 
is  taken  from  him  by  force.  He  is  then  restored  to  free- 
dom, but  before  leaving  he  curses  the  Bing:  ruin  and 
death  shall  it  bring  to  him  who  wears  it  until  it  is 
returned  to  the  one  who  had  it  forged  for  him.  The 
giants  appear  again  with  Freia,  whom  they  had  kept  as 
security.  They  want  as  much  gold  as  is  sufficient  to 
cover  the  goddess  entirely.  The  gold  is  piled  around 
her,  but  there  is  not  enough  to  quite  cover  her  head,  so 
Wotan  is  compelled,  much  to  his  chagrin,  to  add  the 
Tarnhelm.  Yet  still  Fasolt  is  able  to  see  one  of  Freia's 
eyes.  He  demands  the  Bing  to  fill  up  the  gap.  Wotan 
obstinately  refuses,  until  the  giants  seize  the  unhappy 
Freia  and  drag  her  away.  Suddenly  a  weird  blue  light 
appears  in  a  cavern  on  one  side.  Erda,  the  mother  of 
the  Fates,  the  seeress  of  the  future,  appears,  and  warns 
Wotan  to  give  up  the  Bing  which  will  lead  to  his  ruin :  — 

**  All  that  is,  endeth. 
A  gloomy  day 
Dawns  for  the  gods. 
The  Ring,  I  warn  you,  avoid." 

Wotan  is  awed  by  this  threat  of  the  Odtterddmmerung, — 
the  decline  of  the  gods,  —  and  gives  up  the  Bing  to  the 
giants.  Its  curse  shows  itself  immediately.  Fafner  had 
intended  to  marry  Freia;  Fasolt  now  claims  that  his 
turn  had  come — that  the  gold  is  his.    But  Fafner  fells 


f,—  iritfi  A  blow  of  Iiis  aUff,  filln  his  aek  with  tfac  gold 
a  to  transform  himself,  with  the  «id  of  the 
,  into  ft  dfafp>n,  as  wfaicli  he  lies  in  a  cawm  to 
fiB4  the  gfild.  Dounar  now  asceiulA  a  cli^  and  strikes 
1^  rack  with  his  faiuniner.  A  brilliant  fiaab  of  ligbtning 
it  fotkwcd  hy  a  deafminii;  thuoder-clup.  The  dark  clouds 
wkieh  bad  shut  (lif  Iht)  n'i^it  of  the  new  citadel,  are  dis- 
pelled, and  u  rainbow  hridgtiH  the  Rhine.  The  gods 
i»*fph  slowly  ovRf  thi«  brid)(C  to  their  burg,  which  Wotau 
talH  the  Wulhaila;  while  below  is  heard  the  mournful 
song  of  tho  Uhlne-maideiis,  laiucutitig  the  loss  of  their 
gold. 

Even  this  brief  ontline  of  the  plot  of  Rheingotd,  in 
which  many  intfri'stiriK  dohiils  hiive  U-en  omitted,  muat 
convince  the  r<.^udeT  that  seldom  has  there  been  a  drama 
in  which  thtirn  are  so  many  and  such  strange  things  to 
see,  and  mifh  ii  brisk  and  varied  action.  I  remember 
tliat  tht'  nativii  Hiiyrvuthcrs  were  more  eager  to  see  flftetn- 
gohl  thim  liny  otlii-r  Nibeluiig  drama,  so  much  had  they 
been  ini[in'»s('d  with  tiie  tiilcs  of  the  water-maidens  in 
till'  Kliino,  tlm  gliltiTing  Ni  be  lung  caves,  the  novel  trans- 
foniiiitiiui  of  till'  sn-ni'M  with  steam  in  place  of  curtains, 
aint,  uIhivi'  all,  Itiiinu'r's  wonderful  storm  —  the  dazzling 
flaah  of  /in'ag  lightning  on  the  black  clouds.  In  uo 
other  oiu-ra-buusc  —  and  I  have  soeu  Jiliei'iigotd  in  most 
of  the  ^Jortnan  cities  —  has  this  st^u-m  scene  ever  been 
eqiiallod.  Carl  Urandt  eertiiinly  deserved  the  jocular 
compliniout  Wagner  jiaid  liiin  one  day  at  Bayreuth  aft^r 
a  storm  nhich,  he  deolan'd,  " had  been  as  successful  as  if 
Brandt  had  su|>i'rintonded  it." 

How  delightful  it  is  for  persons  of  poetic  sensibility 


DAS  RHEINOOLD  819 

to  follow  the  composer  of  Rheingold  in  deserting  the 
artificial  life  of  operatic  drawing-rooms  and  cities  for  the 
glories  and  wonders  of  nature !  Kivers,  caverns,  moan- 
tains,  clouds,  storms  —  how  infinitely  more  impressive 
they  are  as  backgrounds  to  a  tragedy  than  the  narrow 
walls  of  a  room,  the  dirty  streets  of  a  city!  What  a 
relief,  for  persons  of  imaginative  temperament,  to  get 
away,  for  a  change,  from  everlasting  man  and  his  petty 
cares,  in  order  to  watch  the  doings  of  gods,  giants,  and 
dwarfs,  the  denizens  of  nature ;  to  breathe  the  atmosphere 
of  forest  and  mountain  in  place  of  the  stupefying  fumes 
of  our  hot-house  furnaces!  How  amusing  it  was,  after 
the  Bayreuth  Festival,  to  watch  the  antics  of  the  poor, 
pampered,  green-house  critics;  how  they  whined  to  get 
back  behind  their  stoves,  to  their  musty  haunts;  how 
they  shivered  in  the  rare  and  bracing  air  of  Wotan's 
mountain-top,  in  Alberich's  cave. 

It  is  one  of  the  greatest  charms  of  the  Nibelung 
Tetralogy,  this  return  to  nature,  to  elemental  forces, 
human  as  well  as  physical,  which  music  is  so  much  bet- 
ter suited  to  illustrate  than  the  commonplace  woes  and 
joys  of  tenors  and  sopranos.  In  all  the  other  dramas  of 
the  Tetralogy  we  find  this  preference  for  out-door  scenes 
—  especially  in  Siegfried.  And  how  realistic  all  these 
scenes  are  —  what  an  artist-imagination  Wagner  showed 
in  conceiving  them!  How  anxious  he  was- not  to  mis- 
represent the  phenomena  of  nature  is  shown  in  an  anec- 
dote related  by  the  ^^Idealistin,"  referred  to  in  previous 
pages. 

**Tbe  spring  (1861)  was  wonderfully  fine  in  Paris.  One  night 
a  violent  thonderHStorm  arose,  and  in  the  morning,  as  by  a  stroke 
of  magic,  the  trees  of  the  Champs  Elys^es,  the  gardens  and  boshes, 


320  THE  NISELUNCPS  BSSO 

'bunt  fonb  in  the  tr«Bb  Bhimmer  of  Ibeir  first  green.  Wftgner  t«ia 
me  that  this  phenomenon  had  pleased  him  very  much.  For  In 
Hheingold,  Donner  strikes  the  rock,  whereupon  the  clouds  gather 
lor  a  Btonn,  and  when  they  roll  by  again,  Walballa  and  the  e&nb 
are  adorned  with  the  beanty  of  spring.  NowUiat  very  night  doubts 
bad  arisen  in  his  mind  as  to  whethtir  thia  was  permisaible.  Conse- 
quently be  WB8  miicb  gratified  by  what  he  saw  in  the  morning." 

In  the  preface  to  his  Nibelung  Poems  he  pointed  out 
that  Bheiv^old  would  give  the  stage  caipeuters  and 
machinists  an  opportunity  to  show  that  their  profession 
is  a  real  art.  The  problems  here  presented  are  so  diffi- 
cult that  even  at  Bajreuth  some  of  them  were  not  suc- 
cesafully  solved.  In  other  places,  as  a  rule,  no  real 
attempt  has  been  made  to  carry  out  Wagner's  picturesque 
plans,  the  consequence  being  that  Rheingold  is  much  less 
popular  than  the  other  parts  of  the  Tetralogy.  "  Oho  I  " 
I  hear  an  adversary  shout,  "then  you  admit  that  the 
success  of  Rhetngold  depends  largely  on  its  scenery!" 
Of  course  I  do,  you  ignorant  fellow.  You  do  not  seem 
to  know  the  very  alphabet  of  Wagnerism  — the  fact  that 
in  the  "  art-work  of  the  future, "  music,  action,  and  scenery 
are  to  be  of  equal  importance.  It  is  almost  impossible 
to  get  this  simple  idea  into  some  people's  heads  —  that 
Wagner's  dramas  are  not  to  be  judged,  like  "operas,"  by 
their  music,  their  "tunes,"  alone.  He  wrote  acta,  and 
even  a  whole  work  (Tristan),  in  which  the  music  is  much 
more  important  than  the  scene.  Conversely,  in  Bhein- 
goid,  the  scenery,  with  all  the  deligbtfid  phenomena  of 
nature  which  form  part  of  it,  is,  if  not  more  important 
than  the  music  or  the  action,  at  least  equally  so.  Now, 
operatic  managers,  knowing  that  Rhehicjoid  is  less  popu- 
lar than  the  WaikHre,  expend  much  less  money  on  it  than 


DA8  BHSINQOLD  821 

on  other  operas,  so  that  the  scenery  looks  just  aboat  as 
the  score  would  sound  if  it  were  played  by  a  strolling 
brass  band.  I  am  convinced  that  if  Mheingold  were 
brought  out  with  the  scenic  splendor  lavished,  e.g.,  in 
Dresden  or  Bayreuth  on  the  Paris  version  of  Tannhduaer, 
it  would  become  exceedingly  popular;  and  such  a  pro- 
duction would  make  clear  the  fact  that  the  imagination 
displayed  in  the  MheingM  scenes  alone  suffices  to  stamp 
Wagner  as  the  greatest  artist  in  that  field  the  world  has 
ever  seen. 

The  very  opening  of  Bheingold  shows  most  vividly 
what  an  important  element  artistic  scenery  is  in  the  real 
music-drama.  When  the  curtain  is  first  parted,  nothing 
definite  is  seen  on  the  darkened  stage,  and  the  music  is 
equally  indefinite  —  a  bass  note,  deep  as  the  Rhine,  on 
which  the  constituent  notes  of  the  chord  of  E  flat  major 
undulate  up  and  down  on  the  different  instruments  for 
135  bars, —  monotonous  as  the  flow  of  the  water,  yet 
slowly  gaining  in  volume  as  the  rising  sun's  light  grad- 
ually increases,  and  the  movement  of  the  swimming 
maidens  is  felt  in  the  water.  Now  this  music,  in  the 
concert-hall,  would  be  utterly  meaningless  —  a  mere 
acoustic  puzzle;  whereas  as  an  accompaniment  of  this 
subaqueous  scene  it  is  simply  delightful  —  a  musical 
mirror  of  the  visible  scene  which  immediately  attunes 
every  hearer's  mood  to  the  situation.  Who  can  fail  to 
see  here  the  advantage  which  the  music-drama  has  over 
the  symphony,  or  over  the  drama  without  music?  And 
when,  in  the  136th  bar,  the  orchestra  makes  the  first 
modulation  to  A  flat,  this  simple  harmonic  change  pro- 
duces a  thrilling  effect;  Wagner  has  shown  here,  as  in 
many  other  places,  how  absurd  is  the  charge  that  he 


32-2  THE  NIBELUXGa  BINO 

always  emploj'S  strange  hannoniea  and  constant  modula.- 
tious  to  produce  a  dramatic  impreasion.  ^ 

Nothiug  need  lie  said  here  of  the  engrossing  and  virile 

Rheingold  jKiem,  as  a  separate  chapter  will  be  given  to 

'  Wagner's  poetry  at  the  end  of  this  volume.     Musically 

\  the  moat  remarkable  thing  about  this  work  ia  that  it  is 

,'  the  longest  piece  of  uninterrupted  music  ever  written. 

I    Symphonic  movements  rarely  last  longer  than  fifteen  or 

twenty  miuutes.     There  are  operatic  acts  lasting  over  an 

hour;  but  Rheingold,  if  given  as  it  should  be,  lasts  about 

two  hours  and  a  half  without  a  single  stop.     Outside  of 

Bayreuth  it  has  been  found  advisable  to  make  a  short 

intermission,  but  in  this  way  the  charm  of  one  of  the 

scenic  changes  is  lost.' 

Owing  to  the  order  in  which  Wagner's  works  were 
first  produced,  and  are  now  always  arranged  whenever  a 
"chronological  cyclus"  of  all  his  dramas  ia  given,  an 
impression  naturally  prevails  that  the  Nibelung's  Ring  is 
the  last  of  his  creations,  excepting  Parsifal,  This  is 
true  of  the  Gotterdiimmerung ;  but  it  must  be  remembered 
that  Rheingold,  Wdlkure,  and  a  large  portion  of  Siegfried 
were  composed  before  Tristan  and  the  Meialersinger.  It 
is  only  when  we  bear  in  mind  that  Rheingold  followed 
Lohengrin,  that  we  fully  realize   its  novelty  of  style, 

1  In  Vol,  X,,  p.  243,  may  be  found  some  instructive  remarks  on  the 
proner  use  of  modulation 8,  n  projioj  of  lliia  Prelude.  It  may  be  added 
that  in  order  to  do  this  B<^ue  to  musieal  perfection  tlie  lon^  baaa  note 
(pedal-point)  should  be  strengthened,  as  it  was  at  Bayreuth,  by  an  organ 
tone.  This  will  be  easier  thnii  to  provide  tbe  six  harps  which  at  Bay- 
reuth added  so  tnucli  to  tbe  color  of  tlie  rainbow  scene. 

^  It  is  not  generally  known  that  the  Flpiiui  Dulclimon  also  had  been 
originally  intcuded  as  a  one-act  opera  (VII.  1^),  but  the  plan  was  aban- 
doned, probably  when  it  was  found  that  the  score  was  becomiog  too 


DAS  BHEINOOLD  823 

which  makes  it  inaugurate  Wagner's  third  period.  The 
transition  seems^  however,  less  abrupt  when  we  compare 
Rheingold,  not  with  Lohengrin  as  a  whole,  but  only  with 
its  second  act,  which  was  composed  after  the  third,  and 
in  which  the  "  third  style "  is  foreshadowed  in  a  way 
that  long  made  this  second  act  caviare  to  the  public. 
Between  the  last  scene  of  Lohengrin  and  the  first  of 
Rheingold  lies  a  most  important  phase  in  the  development 
of  their  composer's  mind.  In  June,  1845,  shortly  after 
completing  Tannh&tiser,  he  wrote  to  his  friend  Gktillard 
in  Berlin :  — 

**  I  have  made  up  my  mind  to  be  idle  a  whole  year,  i.e.  to  use 
my  library,  without  producing  anything,  to  which  unhappily  I  am 
already  impelled  again,  since  a  new  subject  fascinates  me  greatly ; 
but  I  shall  force  myself  away  from  it,  in  the  first  place  because  I 
should  like  yet  to  learn  many  a  thing,  and  secondly  because  I  have 
arrived  at  the  conviction  that  if  a  dramatic  work  is  to  have  mar- 
rowy significance  and  originality,  it  must  be  the  outcome  of  a 
decided  advance  in  life,  of  a  certain  important  ei>och  in  the  artistes 
development;  such  an  advance — such  an  epoch,  however,  does 
not  come  every  six  months.'^ 

Now  between  the  end  of  the  LoTiengrin  sketches  and 
the  beginning  of  the  Rheingold  sketches  six  years  had 
elapsed.  And  during  these  six  years  his  art  principles 
had  assumed  definite  theoretical  shape  in  his  mind.  It 
is  not  true,  as  his  opponents  have  said  a  thousand  times, 
that  these  art  principles  were  the  result  of  abstract 
reflection;  on  the  contrary,  from  the  first  act  of  the 
Dutchman  to  the  second  of  Lohengrin  his  peculiar  method 
of  dramatic  composition  had  been  slowly  developed,  and 
gradually  assumed  the  quasi- Nibelung  phase  of  the  duet 
between  Ortrad  and  Telramund.     The  only  difference 


THE  NIBELUSO'S  EINQ 


between  this  sceue  and  RheiDgold  ia  that  in  the  latter  he 
coiwciously  used  a  method  of  compositiou  which  in  his 
earlier  works  had  gradually  and  irresistibly  forced  itself 
on  him  unconsciously,  in  the  heat  of  inepiratioa. 

That,  iu  my  opinion,  the  swing  of  the  pendulum  car- 
ried him  a  little  too  far  in  making  him  exclude  the  chorus 
almost  entirely  from  the  Nibelung'a  Ring,  was  stated  in 
an  earlier  chapter.  But  how  delightfully  this  omission 
ia  atoned  for  in  Rheitigold  by  the  two  trios  of  the  Rhiue- 
iiiaideus,  the  first  when  they  greet  the  awakeuiDg  of  the 
gold  in  the  morning  sun,  the  second  at  the  close,  when 
they  lament  the  loss  of  their  treasure!  And  how,  in 
other  respects,  the  progress  in  Wagner's  art  compensates 
for  the  loss  of  choral  effects  and  the  "tunefulness"  of 
the  vocal  parts !  What  progress  over  all  other  composers 
in  the  art  of  vocoi  characteriiation  I  Compare,  for  in- 
stance, the  song  of  the  Rhine-maidens,  crystalline  and 
undulating  like  their  element,  with  the  heavy,  coarse, 
utterances  of  the  giants,  or  the  weird,  unearthly  tones  of 
Erda;  or  Wotan's  dignified,  majestic  utterances,  with 
the  impish,  clownish,  peevish  tones  of  Mime.  Here,  at 
last,  we  have  the  true  art  of  dramatic  vocalism.  And 
how  the  orchestra  intensifies  this  characterization,  in  a 
manner  far  surpassing  all  preceding  operas!  Where,  in 
the  whole  range  of  music  can  you  find  anything  so  vividly* 
realistic  and  almost  pictorial  aa  the  heavy,  clumsy,  awk- 
ward motive  of  the  giants ;  or  anytli  ing  so  flickering  and 
flaming  as  the  fire-god's  motive;  or  anything  so  weird 
and  mystic  as  the  motive  of  the  mi^ic  Tarnhelmet;  or 
any  chords  so  sublime  in  their  simple  majesty  as  the 
Walhalla  motive?  No  less  characteristic  and  suggestive 
are  the  other  leading  motives  in  Rheingold,  which  con- 


DAS  BHEINQOLD  825 

tains  thirty-five  of  the  whole  number  of  ninety  that  Hans 
von  Wolzogen  has  traced  in  his  well-known  Thematic 
Guide  of  the  Nihelun^s  Ring,  The  Bheingold  motives 
of  course  recur  in  the  dramas  following  it  whenever  the 
dramatic  ideas  associated  with  them  recur.  Most  of 
them,  indeed,  do  not  receive  their  full  development  till 
we  come  to  the  later  dramas,  but  several  grow  at  once 
from  the  bud  into  the  full  blossom,  and  what  glorious 
blossoms  they  are! 

To  a  musician  and  an  intelligent  amateur  these  motives, 
and  the  ingenious  and  truly  inspired  manner  in  which 
they  are  used,  either  to  color  a  present  scene  or  as  remi- 
niscences or  prophecies,  afford  an  endless  source  of  delight 
and  study.  Saint-Sa^ns,  the  profoundest  musical  scholar 
France  has  produced,  who  attended  the  first  Bayreuth 
Festival,  wrote,  nine  years  later,  that  his  admiration  for 
Bheingold  "has  never  ceased  growing." 

'^  When  one  reads  this  score,  ^^  he  says,  **  when  one  has  seen  this 
marveUoas  jeweUer^s  work,  one  has  some  difficulty  in  noting  aU 
the  chasing  relegated  au  dernier  plan  and  sacrificed  to  the  general 
effect.  Wagner  has  imitated  the  medisdval  artists  who  sculptured 
a  cathedral  as  minutely  as  they  would  have  decorated  furniture.^' 

There  is  another  point  to  which  Saint-Saens  refers  — 
the  old  charge  that  Wagner's  music  is  noisy,  advanced 
usually  by  people  who  really  delight  in  the  cymbals, 
drums,  and  comets  that  make  many  of  the  old-fashioned 
operas  hideous:  "It  is  certain  that  the  least  operetta 
makes  more  noise  than  Rfieingold.^^  Tappert,  indeed, 
has  taken  the  pains  to  ascertain  that  in  the^rs^  movement 
of  Beethoven's  G  minor  symphony  there  are  258  bars 
marked  j^  while  in  the  wJiole  of  Bheingold  there  are  only 
236  marked  jf  and  jQ^T.     Nor  is  iMetyi^o^d  exceptional  in 


TBE  NtBELUSG'a  BISG 


this  respect,  and  a  drama  justifies  loud  music  more  than 
a  symphony.  To  the  loudest  bars  in  Rheingold  I  should 
like  to  call  the  reader's  attention  specially.  They  occur 
ill  the  scene  where  the  Nibelung  dwarfs,  after  having 
deposited  their  burdens  of  gold  on  the  upper  world,  file 
past  the  fettered  Alberich,  their  former  tyrant,  and 
iiu pertinently  leer  in  his  face.  The  furious,  cyclonic 
orchestral  outburst  which  here  conveys  the  mute  Albe- 
ricli's  feelings  to  the  audience,  illustrates  one  o£  the  tre- 
mendous advantages  which  the  musie-drama  has  over 
the  literary  or  spoken  drama.  Attention  may  also  be 
called  to  the  tine  realistic  effect  produced  in  this  work 
by  "noise,"  the  hissing  steam,  and  the  eighteen  tuned 
anvils  that  are  heard  while  Wotan  and  Loge  are  approach- 
ing the  subterranean  smithies  of  the  Nibeluug  dwarfs.' 

DIB  WALKDrB 

By  his  foolish  and  criminal  actions,  as  witnessed  in 
Rlieingold,  Wotan  has  involved  himself  and  the  rest  of 
the  gods  in  a  serious  dilemma  which  threatens  their  de- 
struction. It  must  be  understood  that  the  old  German 
and  Scandinavian  goda  are  not  omnipotent  nor  even  im- 
mortal ;  although  their  lives  are  ages  longer  than  those  of 
mortals,  they  are  doomed  to  die,  while  their  rule  over 
men,  giants,  and  dwarfs  is  conditioned  upon  their  justice, 
and  upon  a  regular  contract,  the  terms  of  which  are 
written  on  Wotan's  spear.  The  building  of  the  strong- 
hold, Walhalla,  which  was  intended  to  secure  the  gods 
from  attacks,  has  proved  the  entering  wedge  of  their 

'  HuetTer,  in  hU  brief  but  valuable  Wsgner  bioErapliy  (85-06),  points 
out  iome  oF  tlie  humorous  and  otber  touches  in  tbe  miniature  cbisel- 
Ung  or  this  score. 


DIE  WALKURS  827 

ruin;  for  it  has  led  Wotan  to  a  series  of  crimes  and 
violations  of  justice :  he  has  lusted  for  the  gold  belong- 
ing to  the  Rhine-maidens;  he  has  tried  to  break  his 
contract  with  the  giants;  he  has  used  treachery  and 
violence  towards  Alberich;  and  he  has  worn  the  fatal 
Ring  cursed  by  the  Nibelung.  Now,  the  fundamental 
tragic  idea  of  Wagner's  drama,  in  harmony  with  the 
spirit  of  the  ancient  myth,  is,  as  Professor  Kostlin  has 
concisely  summed  it  up,^  that  ''everything,  even  the 
highest  (the  gods),  even  the  noblest  (Siegfried  and  Br(inn- 
hilde)  perishes,  if  it  allows  anjrthing  to  persuade  it  to 
resort  to  violence,  either  open  or  secret  (cunning,  treach- 
ery), instead  of  relying  on  Love,  the  only  bond  that 
holds  things  together/' 

The  dilemma  of  the  gods  is  this :  they  must  not  try 
to  get  back  the  cursed  Ring,  for  Erda  has  warned  them 
that  its  possession  will  entail  their  ruin;  but  if  they 
leave  it  to  the  stupid  giant  Fafner,  there  is  danger  that 
the  crafty  Alberich  will  recover  it;  and  he  has  already 
threatened  that  in  that  case  the  gods  and  goddesses  shall 
become  his  slaves,  like  the  Nibelungs.  Out  of  this 
dilemma  only  one  way  seems  to  lead :  the  Ring  must  get 
into  the  hands  of  some  one  whom  the  gods  need  not  fear. 
But  he  must  be  a  free  agent,  for  Wotan  cannot  aid  him 
directly  without  incurring  new  guilt  and  danger  by  break- 
ing his  compact  with  Fafner.  However,  as  long  as  the 
Ring  is  in  the  possession  of  that  transformed  giant,  the 
gods  are  safe,  for  Fafner  is  too  stupid  to  care  for  more 
than  the  mere  possession  of  the  Ring.  As  long  as  no 
dangerous  enemy  has  the  Ring,  the  gods  are  safe  enough 
in  their  new  citadel.     To  make  this  more  of  a  stronghold 

^  2>er  Ring  de»  Nibelungen,  Tiibin^^,  1877,  p.  S3L 


^ 


328  THE  SIBELUSCrS  BISQ 

still,  Wotan  consorts  with  Erda,  who  betas  him  nine 
maidens,  the  Vaikyries,  wfaoee  missioD  it  is  to  iocite 
mortals  to  combat  and  then  convey  the  £aUen  heroea  on 
their  steeds  to  Walhalla,  to  form  its  guard. 

Ha.viag  thas  provided  for  present  safety,  Wotan  takes 
measures  for  the  future.  He  goes  to  the  earth  and,  unit- 
ing  himself  with  a  mortal  woman,  be  founds  the  formid- 
able race  of  the  Volsungs.  The  twins,  Siegmund  and 
Sieglinde  are  bom,  and  Siegmtind  is  chosen  by  Wotan 
as  the  agent  who,  being  a  demi-god,  would  be  strong 
enough  to  win  the  Bing  from  Fafner,  yet  harmless  to 
the  gods  after  he  had  secured  it.  But  being  unable,  OD 
account  of  his  compacts,  to  aid  his  hero  directly,  Wobm 
is  obliged  to  leave  him  to  his  own  devices.  His  sister, 
Sieglinde,  is  carried  oft  by  the  enemy  and  married  to 
Hunding  against  her  will,  and  one  day,  Si^jnitmd,  on 
returning  to  his  haunts,  finds  nothing  but  an  empty  wolf- 
skin and  believes  his  father  dead  too.  Alone  he  now 
engages  with  hia  formidable  foes,  to  protect  a  woman 
from  wrong;  but  hia  weapon  is  destroyed  and  he  has  to 
flee  for  his  life.     This  brings  us  to  the  opening  scene. 

Act  I.  Handing's  hut;  a  violent  storm  is  raging. 
Siegmund,  overcome  with  fatigue,  enters  and  sinks  down 
at  the  hearth.  Sieglinde  soon  comes  in,  sees  the  stran- 
ger, whom  she  does  not  know  (for  the  twins  had  been 
separated  la  infancy)  and  offers  him  food  and  drink.  A 
noise  at  the  door  interrupts  their  conversation.  Hun- 
ding haa  returned.  He  asks  his  guest's  name.  Sieg- 
mund'B  story  reveals  the  fact  that  Hunding  belongs  to 
the  tribe  which  has  sworn  vengeance  on  him.  Hunding 
tells  him  he  may  stay  that  night,  but  in  the  morning  he 
must  fight.     Sieglinde,  at  the  comnmnd  of  her  husband, 


DH  WALKURE  829 

iiad  preceded  him  to  their  bed-chamber,  bat  she  soon 
returns,  tells  Siegmond  that  she  has  given  her  husband 
a  sleeping  potion,  and  urges  him  to  flee.  In  the  centre 
of  the  room  grows  a  mighty  ash-tree  and  in  its  trunk 
glimmers  the  hilt  of  a  sword.  Sieglinde  tells  her  guest 
that  one  day  a  stranger,  of  impressive  appearance,  had 
come  into  the  room  when  there  was  an  assembly,  and 
thrust  in  that  sword,  promisiag  it  to  him  who  could  pull 
it  out.  But  so  far  no  one  had  succeeded.  Then  follows 
a  love-scene,  which  is  one  of  the  most  beautiful  in  all 
dramatic  literature,  and  the  musical  part  is  no  less  per- 
fect. The  two  discover  that  they  are  brother  and  sister, 
and  that  the  stranger  who  put  the  sword  in  the  tree  was 
no  one  else  than  their  &ther,  Wotan,  who  had  promised 
Siegmund  that  in  an  hour  of  need  he  should  find  a  sword, 
called  Nothung,  with  which  he  could  overcome  every- 
thing. Siegmund  draws  out  the  sword,  and  the  two 
embrace  each  other  with  a  love  that  is  more  than  that  of 
kindred. 

Act  II.  Wotan  in  a  wild  mountaia  region  gives  orders 
to  Brtinnhilde,  his  best  beloved  Valkyrie,  to  protect  Sieg- 
mund in  the  coming  contest  with  Hundiag.  As  Briinn- 
hilde  disappears  beyond  the  rocks,  Wotan's  wife,  Fricka, 
appears  on  her  chariot  drawn  by  two  goats.  She  has 
been  called  upon  by  Hunding  to  avenge  the  injury  to  his 
honor  done  by  Siegmund;  and  now  follows  a  long  scene 
in  which  Fricka  demands  that  Wotan  shall  not  protect 
the  guilty  couple.  Wotan  for  a  long  time  refuses  to 
thwart  his  own  plans,  but  at  last  he  is  obliged  to  yield 
to  the  entreaties  of  his  wife,  and  promises  not  to  protect 
Siegmund,  and  to  prevent  Briinnhilde  also  from  doing 
so.    Fricka  leaves,  and  Briinnhilde  returns.    She  finds 


330  TBB  Sl£&i.V2iO'B  ItlNQ 

her  father  in  a  terribly  desyx>ndpnt  statv  of  mind.  He 
tells  her  of  the  impending  doimfall  of  the  gods  and  of  his 
frustrated  plans  of  overcomiiig  the  enemy  with  the  aid  of 
the  Valkyries  and  of  Siegmuad,  But  he  must  yield,  and 
she  shall  not  defend  Siegmitnd.  Brfinnliilde  proposes, 
in  spite  of  Wotan's  commaud,  to  protect  him,  but  this 
arouses  the  anger  of  Wotan,  and  he  threatens  her  with 
the  most  dreadful  pujiishment  if  she  does  not  obey. 
They  leave  t)ie  at^e,  and  Siegmund  appears  E^ain  with 
Sieglinde,  in  flight.  SiegHnde  bitterly  accuses  herself 
and  falls  in  a  swoon.  As  Siegmund  bends  over  her, 
Brdnnhilde  reappears  and  tells  him  that  he  must  fall  in 
the  coming  contest,  but  that  she  will  herself  take  him  to 
Walhalla,  the  abode  of  the  gods.  But  Siegmund  does 
not  wish  to  go;  he  cannot  think  of  leaving  Sieglinde. 
In  despair,  he  draws  the  sword  on  her,  when  the  Valkyrie 
is  moved  to  pity  and  promises  to  protect  him  and  to  save 
their  offspring.  The  voice  of  the  approaching  Hunding 
is  heard.  Siegmund  rushes  up  into  the  clouds  to  meet 
him.  They  fight,  while  Briinnhilde  holds  her  protecting 
shield  over  Siegmund.  Already  the  latter  has  drawn 
his  sword,  "Nothung,"  to  inflict  the  deadly  blow  on  his 
opponent,  when  suddenly,  amid  thunder  and  lightning, 
Wotan  appears,  and  with  hia  spear  catches  the  blow  of 
the  sword,  which  breaks  into  pieces,  while  Hunding  slays 
his  defenceless  opponent.  Briinnhilde  gathers  the  frag- 
ments of  the  sword  for  Sieglinde;  they  shall  lie  united 
again  for  lier  son.  But  Hunding  falls  dead  before  a 
contemptuous  motion  of  Wotan's  hand. 

Act  III.  Summit  of  a  rocky  mountain.  Amid  bril- 
liant flashes  of  lightning  the  eight  Valkyries,  in  succes- 
sion, ride  through  the  clouds  on  their  white  steeds,  and 


DIE  WALKUBE  881 

land  on  the  rocks.  They  are  joined  by  Brdnnhilde,  who 
with  Sieglinde  is  trying  to  escape  the  wrath  of  Wotan 
for  having  defended  Siegmund.  But  the  Valkyries  dread 
his  anger,  while  Sieglinde  confesses  her  unworthiness  of 
their  protection,  and  her  willingness  to  die.  Br(innhilde, 
however,  beseeches  her  to  live  for  the  sake  of  her  off- 
spring, the  child  which  will  be  bom,  and  induces  her  to 
continue  her  flight,  while  she  stays  to  abide  the  anger  of 
Wotan.  The  god  appears  and  demands  Brflnuhilde. 
She  comes  forward  and  confesses  her  guilt,  yet  believes 
she  has  acted  according  to  his  inmost  wishes;  she  asks 
what  her  punishment  will  be.  Wotan  first  sends  away 
the  other  Valkyries,  and  then  announces  to  his  maiden 
daughter  that  she  shall  no  longer  be  a  Valkyrie  and  bring 
fallen  heroes  to  Walhalla,  but  shall  be  laid  on  the  rock, 
fast  asleep,  and  shall  become  the  wife  of  the  first  man 
who  finds  and  awakens  her.  Brfinnhilde  falls  on  her 
knees  and  entreats  him  in  the  most  imploring  tones  not 
to  inflict  such  cruel  punishment,  or  at  least  to  grant  her 
one  last  prayer,  and  that  is  to  surround  her  resting-place 
with  an  ever-burning  sea  of  flames,  so  that  none  but  the 
most  valiant  hero  could  awake  her.  Wotan  is  overcome 
with  pity  and  consents.  He  fondly  embraces  her  once 
more,  then  lays  her  down  on  the  moss,  covers  her  with 
shield  and  helmet,  and  strikes  the  rock  with  his  spear. 
Flames  dart  up  on  all  sides,  surrounding  the  rock,  and 
the  drama  ends  with  the  words  of  Wotan:  ''Who  fears 
the  tip  of  my  spear,  never  shall  pass  through  this  fire." 
He  slowly  retires  into  the  background,  leaving  the  sleep- 
ing maiden  alone  on  the  flame-encircled  rock. 

Schopenhauer  wrote  on  the  margin  of  his  copy  of  the 
Nibelung  poem  that  in  the  WaUcUre  "clouds  play  the 


832  THE  SIBELUSCPB  BINO 

leading  r31e,"  In  epigrammatic  brevity  tliis  indicates 
that,  like  its  predecessor,  the  Wi^kUre  is  an  open-aii 
play,  a  drama  of  Nature.  Only  in  the  first  act  are  we 
in  a  human  habitation,  and  even  there  the  most  conspic- 
uous thing  is  the  large  tree  around  which  Hunding's 
hut  is  built;  and  long  before  the  act  is  over  the  back 
door  opens  and  reveals  a  spring  landscape  in  the  light  of 
the  full  moon.  In  the  second  act  we  are  in  a  wild  moun- 
taiuouB  region.  Before  and  during  the  duel  scene  one 
needs  no  musio  to  be  oarried  along  by  the  excitement  of 
the  poem,  in  which  occur  such  directions  as  these  (which 
alasl  have  never  been  half-way  carried  out  as  conceived, 
not  even  at  Bayreuth) :  — 

■'The  stage  has  gradually  become  dark;  heavy  Btonnclonds 
sink  down  over  the  backgronnd  ftnd  gradually  and  completely  veU 
the  nails  of  rock,  the  ravine,  and  the  high  ridge."  "Slegmnnd 
disappears  on  the  ildge  in  the  dark  stonncloud."  "  Strong  light- 
ning flashes  through  the  clouds ;  a  terrible  tbundcr-clap  wakes  Sieg- 
linde."  "A  flash  for  a  moment  lightens  the  ridge  on  which 
Huoding  and  Siegmund  are  now  seen  flghting." 

And  so  on  —  the  orchestra  all  the  time  mirroring  and 
vivifying  these  phenomena.  In  the  third  act  we  are 
again  in  a  rough  mountainous  region,  where  the  wild 
Valkyries,  one  after  another,  approach  amid  the  clouds 
on  their  war-steeds;  and  at  the  close  the  natural  solitude 
is  only  emphasized  by  the  sleeping  maiden.  Taken  as 
a  whole,  I  do  not  think  the  Wiiikiire  as  fine  a  poem  as 
Siegfried  or  as  pregnant  in  language  and  absorbing  in 
interest  as  Rkeingold :  the  dialogues  in  the  second  act  are 
doubtless  somewhat  too  extended  and  delay  the  action 
too  long.  Yet  how  perfect  is  the  opening  scene  of  the 
drama,  when  the  weary  Siegmund  enters  the  hut!  how 


DIB  WALKUBS  888 

exciting  the  pursuit  of  the  guilty  lovers  by  HundingI 
how  his  horn  makes  the  flesh  creep!  How  touching  is 
the  scene  where  Briinnhilde  is  ''elevated,"  as  has  been 
finely  said,  "from  a  goddess  to  a  woman,"  when  pity 
for  the  fugitive  condemned  lovers  induces  her  to  face 
Wotan's  anger  by  her  efforts  to  save  them!  How 
pathetic,  again,  the  last  scenes — the  heart-rending 
accents  of  the  condemned  Valkyrie,  so  mournfully 
emphasized  by  the  plaintive  woodwind  accompaniment, 
and  Wotan's  touching  farewell!  If  in  Rheingold  the 
chief  of  the  gods  excites  our  interest  rather  than  our 
sympathy,  here,  where  his  expiation  begins,  we  feel  with 
him  the  pang  of  the  sorrow  that  overcomes  him  at  having 
to  punish  his  favorite  daughter  for  having  carried  out 
his  secret  wishes. 

Concerning  one  scene  in  the  WaUciire  enough  has  been 
written  to  fill  many  stout  volumes.  On  no  other  ground 
has  its  author  been  so  virulently  assailed  as  for  his  auda- 
city in  making  the  hero  and  heroine  of  this  opera  guilty 
of  adultery  and  incest  at  the  same  time.  I,  myself,  believe 
that  he  did  not  gain  any  dramatic  advantage  by  follow- 
ing the  old  Edda  legend  in  this  detail.  To  be  sure,  only 
in  this  way  could  Siegfried  come  of  divine  stock  on  both 
sides,  but  the  incest  might  at  least  have  been  made 
unconscious.  However,  the  poet  might  have  replied  that 
in  Home  we  must  do  as  the  Romans  do:  if  we  bring 
mythical  beings  on  the  stage  we  must  leave  them  their 
morals  as  well  as  their  manners.  The  Greek  gods  inter- 
marry within  the  forbidden  relationship;  the  Egyptian 
Pharaohs  married  their  sisters,  and  many  primitive  peo- 
ples did  and  do  the  same.  As  for  the  charge  of  adultery, 
that  is  not  admitted  in  this  drama.     Wagner  does  not 


334  THE  SlBELnNCrS  BJNQ 

concede  that  there  can  be  a  true  mairiaga  without  love. 
Sieglinde  was  carried  off  forcibly  by  Hunding;  she  was 
overwhelmed;  that  is  not  marriage.  The  point  is  argued 
at  length  in  the  text  by  Wotan ;  at  greater  length  still  in 
the  original  version  of  the  poem,  which  was  abbreviated 
by  126  lines  when  it  was  set  to  music.  It  must  be  said, 
too,  that  hypocrisy,  prudery,  and  a  desire  to  hit  Wag- 
ner had  more  to  do  with  the  attacks  on  this  scene  than 
any  feelings  of  outraged  morality.  This  is  what  the 
Rev.  Dr.  Haweis  told  some  of  the  English  censors.  I 
have  in  my  notebooks  a  few  brief  quotations  which  put 
the  whole  question  in  a  nutshell :  — 

"  An  episode  found  in  nil  mytliologiea  may  well  be  pardoned  for 
tho  sake  of  tbc  exquisite  music  it  has  inspired"  (^London  Timtf, 
July  2,  1892).  "  I  cannot  share  the  moral  indignation  over  the 
Incestuoua  relationship  between  Siegmund  and  Sieglinde.  When 
we  read  the  story  in  the  poem,  —  well,  yes,  it  seemB  rather  ques- 
tionable, but  in  the  scenic  eieculion  it  is  entirely  discreet;  no 
offence  can  be  taken  at  it"  (Paul  Lindau,  NSchterne  Britfe), 
"  Those  who  hold  mythological  beings  to  aa  strict  a  moral  account 
as  they  do  people  ot  to-day,  can  imagine  that  the  lovers  were 
strangers  or  second-cousins  or  anything  else  —  only  let  them  stop 
preaching"  (GustaT  Kobb<^,  The  Sing  of  the  Ifibelitng).  "Who 
has  ever  been  sliocked  at  Uie  amours  ot  the  Greek  divinities  on 
account  of  their  being  within  the  forbidden  degrees  of  relationship, 
or  at  the  intermarriage  of  the  children  of  Adam  and  Eve  which  the 
Tentateuch  implies  ?  "   (F,  Hueffer,   Wagner). 

Finally,  I  would  beg  those  fiinny  critics  who  deny  the 
author  of  the  N^ibelung's  Ring  poetic  sensibility  and 
refinement  because  he  brings  such  wicked  gods  and  men 
on  the  stage,  to  read  this  remark  of  Max  Mtiller's 
regarding  the  Greeks:  "Their  poets  had  an  instinctive 
aversion  to  everything  excessive  or  monstrous,  yet  they 


DIB  WALKUBE  885 

would  relate  of  their  gods  what  would  make  the  most 
savage  of  Bed  Indians  creep  and  shudder"  {Encydo- 
pcedia  Britannica,  art.  "  Mythology  ").  And  the  moral  of 
this  whole  moral  discussion  is  that  a  little  less  "  moral- 
ity "  in  modern  criticisms  would  be  a  moral  gain.  The 
moral  feelings  of  the  people  are  all  right,  and  on  the 
poet's  side.  Is  there  one  person  in  a  whole  Wdlkiire 
audience  who  does  not  instinctively  detest  Fricka  for  a 
tiresome  intermeddler,  and  hope  that  Siegmund  may  win 
in  the  battle  with  Hunding  ?  This  argument  alone,  which 
was  suggested  to  me  by  one  of  the  purest  and  most  refined 
women  in  the  world,  weighs  more  than  all  the  prudish 
comments  put  together. 

The  impotence  of  critical  hypocrisy  and  malice  against 
Genius  is  vividly  illustrated  by  the  fact  that,  in  Ger- 
many, Die  WaOciire  has  become  by  far  the  most  popular 
of  the  four  Nibelung  dramas.  It  owes  this  largely  to  its 
music,  which  is  richer  and  more  stirring  than  that  of 
Rheingold,  I  do  not  agree  with  Ehlert  that  the  first  act  < 
of  the  Wdlkiire  is  the  finest  act  ever  written  by  its  com- 
poser. To  me  each  of  the  three  acts  of  Siegfried,  as  well 
as  the  last  act  of  Ootterddmmerung,' seem  greater,  more 
perfect.  But  I  willingly  concede  the  wondrous  beauties 
of  this  first  act.  The  very  Introduction  is  as  marvellous 
in  its  way  as  the  calm  aqueous  Rheingold  prelude,  to 
which  it  forms  a  complete  antithesis.  Never  has  storm 
been  so  vividly  painted  in  such  a  few  strokes.  The 
agitated  tremolos  and  runs  of  the  violins  depict  the  rain- 
storm fiercely  beating  on  the  roof  of  Hunding's  hut, 
while  the  low  growling  of  the  thunder  is  first  muttered 
by  the  double-basses,  until  finally  the  whole  orchestra 
breaks  out  into  a  fierce  tornado  of  sound,  in  the  crashing 


336  THE  yiBSLUNirS  RING 

climax  of  which  is  heard  the  reverberation  of  the  motiTe 
of  the  storm-god,  known  to  tlie  hearer  from  Rheingold. 
It  19  a  masterpiece,  more  vivid  and  naturalistic  than  even 
tlie  storm  music  in  the  Dutchman.  Repeatedly,  in  hear- 
ing Hans  Kichter  or  Anton  Seidl  conduct  this  storm,  I 
have  had  a  curious  feeling  as  if  the  lightning  bad  really 
struck  the  band,  and  the  instruments  were  carried  away 
by  the  storm  in  all  directions,  still  sounding! 

How  utterly  different,  yet  equally  fine,  is  the  tender 
eloquence  of  the  quintet  for  violoncellos  which  we  hear 
when  Sieglinde  gives  Siegmund  the  cooling  drink.  It 
was  no  doubt  this  passage  among  others  that  led  Saint' 
Saens  to  pay  this  tribute  to  Wagner's  orchestration :  — 

"  When  the  u:toTS  ore  silent,  the  orcheatTB  speakt,  uid  what  & 
language  1  Wagner,  the  man  of  noise,  the  tamer  of  ferocious  in- 
BtruDaenta,  employe  here  nothing  but  string  Instnunents.  By  the 
maoner  in  which  a  composer  makes  the  string  quartet  speak,  the 
master  is  shown.  The  goddess  reveals  herself  as  such  by  her 
bearing." 

How  superb  is  the  orchestral  outburst  when  Siegmund 
triumphantly  draws  the  sword  from  the  tree !  But  it  is 
needless  to  call  attention  to  all  the  gems ;  spectators  can 
see  their  glitter  for  themselves,  as  easily  as  the  glitter 
of  the  sword-hilt  when  the  orchestra  tells  us  what  it  is; 
to  others  they  cannot  be  described.  Concerning  the  pas- 
sionate love-scene  which  forms  the  climax  of  this  act  I 
beg  leave  again  to  quote  Saint-Saeus:  — 

"  Here  nothing  would  have  prevented  the  composer  from  writing 
an  air  and  a  duo  in  the  traditional  style  ;  but  no  air,  no  duo,  could 
have,  from  a  theatrical  point  ot  view,  the  value  of  this  monologue 
and  this  dialogue  scene.  Melodic  flowers  of  the  most  exquisite 
fragrance  spring  up  at  every  step,  and  tlie  orchestra,  like  a  bound- 


DIB  WALKUBE  887 

less  ocean,  rocks  the  two  lovers  on  its  magic  waves.  Here  we  have 
the  theatre  of  the  future  ;  neither  the  opera  nor  the  simple  drama 
will  ever  rouse  such  deep  emotions  in  the  soul.  If  the  composer 
had  completely  succeeded  in  no  other  scene  but  this,  it  would  suf- 
fice to  prove  that  his  ideal  is  not  an  impracticable  dream :  the  cause 
has  been  heard.  A  thousand  critics  writing  each  a  thousand  lines 
a  day  for  ten  years  would  injure  this  work  about  as  much  as  a 
child*  8  breath  would  go  towards  overthrowing  the  pyramids  of 
Egypt." 

Lest  I  be  accused  of  indiscriminate  admiration,  I  wiCi 
admit  here  that  there  are  blemishes  in  the  WalkUrt, 
some  of  the  dialogues  are  (under  ordinary  operatic  con- 
ditions) too  long.  All  music-dramas  and  operas,  who- 
ever their  composer  may  be,  would  be  better  (for  all 
practical  purposes)  if  they  had  been  originally  written  to 
last  only  three  hours  instead  of  four  or  more.  There  are 
also  weak  spots  in  the  score.  The  weakest  of  these  is 
the  famous  love-song  of  Siegmund  in  the  Bcene  just 
referred  to.  The  poetic  lines  are  beautiful,  but  the 
melody  is  trivial  and  shallow.  I  confess  to  a  positive 
dislike  for  this  brief  love-song,  which  seems  to  me  a 
cheap  tune,  as  unworthy  of  Wagner's  genius  as  the  Lohen- 
grin Wedding  March.  Its  chopped-up,  four-bar  rhythm 
contrasts  painfully  with  the  flowing,  continuous,  unca- 
denced  melody  of  the  rest  of  the  score. 

At  Bayreuth  it  was  amusing  to  note  how  some  of  the 
critical  babes,  who  had  been  crying  for  their  toys  (Paul 
Lindau  was  positively  pathetic :  "  I  beg,  I  beg  you,  dear 
little  birds,  for  a  tune "),  rejoiced  at  Siegmund's  love- 
song,  because  that  was  something  they  could  whistle, 
give  to  the  organ-grinders,  and  work  up  in  the  next 
carnival  quadrille.  But  Lindau  was  not  quite  satisfied 
with  having  an  old-fashioned  tune;  he  also  wanted  it 


338  THE  NtBELVSG'S  RISO  ^ 

mng  in  the  old-fashioned  way.  He  actually  wrote  that 
an  Italian  tenor 

"  woQld  Burely  not  have  missed  t±iB  opportanitj  lo  come  forward 
with  Uie  well-kiiowD  gesture  to  the  promptcr'H  box  and  to  sing  th« 
wonderful  molotiy  at  the  enchant*"!  audience  with  languorous 
movements,  lliat  would  be  inartistlt,  but  It  would  be  entranefng  ; 
whereas  now,  iu  the  atrictl;  artistic  execution,  the  effect  is  not  as 
great  as  hod  been  expected  "  t 

Could  anything  more  vividly  and  atartlingly  illustrate 
the  utter  corruption  of  all  healthy  artistic  instincts 
brought  about  by  the  old-fashioned  opera?  "Inartistic 
but  entrancing! "  It  must  be  remembered  that  this  was 
written  as  late  as  1876,  when  Wagner  was  sixty-three 
years  old,  by  one  of  the  most  distinguished  German 
critics  and  playwrights  !  This  shows  us  what  kind  of  an 
artistic  atmosphere  Wagner  found  in  Germany,  and  how 
much  dramatic  music  needed  a  Hercules  to  clear  out  the 
Augean  stables, 

Wlien  Wagner  had  completed  the  first  act  of  the 
WalkUre,  he  gave  Liszt  his  opinion  that  it  was  "extraor- 
dinarily beautiful,"  and  that  nothing  he  had  done  before 
approached  it;  in  which  opinion  he  was  right,  as  usual. 
Concerning  the  second  act  there  is  an  extremely  interest- 
ing page  in  Letter  200  to  Liszt.  He  felt  anxious  about 
the  scene  between  Wotan  and  Brunnhilde,  and  once,  iu 
London,  had  been  on  the  point  of  excising  it  altogether; 
but  on  going  over  it  again  he  found  that  his  spleen  was 
not  justified.  Indeed,  he  asserts  that  "  in  the  develop- 
ment of  the  whole  tetralogical  drama  this  is  the  most 
important  scene,  and  as  such  it  will  probably  receive  the 
necessary  sympathy  and  attention."  But  it  needs  per- 
fect performers,  he  adds.     Another  point  he  makes  re- 


DIE  WALKURS  889 

gaxding  this  second  act  is  that  it  contains  two  important 
and  tremendous  catastrophes, — enough  really  for  two 
acts,  —  yet  they  could  not  have  been  kept  apart. 

*'  If  represented  according  to  my  designs,  so  that  every  inten- 
tion is  completely  understood,  it  must  overwhelm  the  feelings  in  an 
unprecedented  manner.  Such  a  work  is  only  written  for  persons 
who  can  endure  something  (really  for  no  one  I) :  that  the  incom- 
petent and  weak  will  complain,  cannot  influence  my  actions.** 

He  f  oref  elt  the  charges  that  would  be  launched  against 
this  act,  but  he  was  right  in  implying  that  to  the  "  chosen 
few''  it  is  the  grandest  of  the  three.  Its  fate  will  be 
like  that  of  the  second  act  of  Lohengrin^  which,  for  three 
decades,  was  declared  a  bore,  while  now  that  the  singers 
and  hearers  have  grown  up  to  it,  it  is  acknowledged  to 
be  the  best  in  the  opera. 

When  the  third  act  of  the  WdOcilre  was  completed,  the 
composer  again  declared  that  it  was  '^probably  the  best" 
he  had  so  far  written.  It  is  certainly  a  wonderful  act, 
far  superior  to  the  first,  in  my  opinion,  in  some  respects 
even  to  the  second.  The  opening  scene,  the  famous  Bide 
of  the  Valkyries,  is  an  entirely  new  kind  of  music, 
orchestrally  and  vocally.  What  exultation,  what  bar- 
barous realism,  in  the  cries  of  the  war-maidens!  how 
thrilling  the  union  of  their  voices!  how  the  orchestra 
vies  with  these  voices,  and  the  storm-clouds,  and  the 
flying  steeds,  in  picturing  the  scene!  And  how  touching 
the  contrast,  when  the  noisy  maidens  have  left,  and 
Brijnnhilde  alone  remains  with  the  unhappy  Wotan  to 
implore  his  pardon,  with  tears  in  his  voice!  Here,  as 
Saint-Saens  remarks,  the  work  ''attains  JSschylean 
grandeur."  What  a  glorious  orchestral  climax,  when 
the  Valkyrie  for  the  last  time  rushes  into  Wotan's  arms  I 


840  THE  mBBLvxa's  Rma 

And  at  last  the  M^c  Fire  Scene,  in  wluch  "  the  Tiolins 
flame,  the  harps  crackle,  the  timbres  scintillate.  The 
Walkiire  ends  with  a  tableau  which  is  a  feast  for  the  ears 
and  for  the  eyes,"  the  famous  French  composer  exclaims. 
And  how  much  more  effective,  I  may  add,  is  this  tableau, 
without  any  song  at  all,  simply  a  sleeping  Valkyrie,  on 
a  flame -encircled  rock  —  and  an  orchestra  quietly  com- 
bining the  Briinnhilde  and  flame  music  —than  the  final 
chorus  which  before  Wagner  used  to  be  considered  abso- 
lutely necessary  to  give  an  opera  a  sufficiently  noisy 
conclusion! 

8IBOFKI&D,  THH  FOBBSI  DBAKA 

Sieglinde,  after  BrflnnMlde  had  been  oompelled,  I7 
the  pursuit  of  the  angry  Wotan,  to  abandon  her,  wan- 
dered about  in  the  forest  until  she  was  found  by  the 
dwarf  Mime,     She  died  in  giving  birth  to  Siegfried, 

and  intrusted  him  to  the  care  of  Mime,  to  whom,  at  the 
same  time,  she  gave  the  fragments  of  the  sword  Nothung, 
with  the  information  that  through  it  the  Nibelung's  Ring 
could  be  recovered  from  the  dragon,  Fafner.  Mime 
brings  up  young  Siegfried,  not  from  love  of  him,  but  in 
the  hope  of  becoming  through  him  the  possessor  of  the 
Ring.  Mime  knows  the  location  of  Fafner's  cave,  and 
his  one  desire  is  to  kill  the  Dragon  and  recover  the  Ring. 
He  is  too  cowardly  to  attack  him,  however,  and  his  only 
hope  lies  in  his  foster-child,  now  a  robust  youth  of 
twenty,  full  of  animal  spirits  and  courage,  whose  com- 
panions are  the  birds  and  beasts  of  the  forest,  and  who 
has  never  seen  any  human  being  except  the  ugly  dwarf. 
Mime  has  made  several  swords  for  Siegfried  to  slay  the 
Dragon  with,  "strong  enough  for  giants";  but  the  mus- 


8IEQFRIED,  THE  FOREST  DRAMA  841 

colar  youth  has  dashed  them  all  to  pieces  on  the  anvil, 
as  if  they  had  been  so  many  toy  swords. 

Act  I.    It  is  this  "  ungrateful  boy "  that  Mime  com- 
plains about  when  we  behold  him,  in  the  opening  scene, 
in  his  rock-surrounded  forest  smithy.     Presently,  to  his 
terror,  Siegfried  rushes  in  with  a  live  bear,  with  which 
he  pursues  and  teases  him.     Then  he  inquires  about  the 
new  sword  which  Mime  has  been  forging  for  him.     After 
examining  it  critically,  he  breaks  it  to  pieces  on  the 
anvil,  and  abuses  the  smith  for  his  incompetence.     Mime 
reproaches  him  for  ingratitude,  and  tells  him  a  most  piti- 
ful tale  of  how  he  has  fostered  and  fed  him,  and  toiled 
for  him  only  to  be  maltreated  in  return.     But  Siegfried 
is  unable  to  conceal  his  aversion  to  the  ugly  dwarf.     He 
refuses  to  believe  that  Mime  is  his  father,  for  in  his 
forest  life  he  has  noticed  that  young  animals  always  re- 
semble their  parents,  whereas  his  own  face,  when  he  saw 
it  reflected  in  the  brooks,  certainly  did  not  in  any  way 
resemble  Mime's;  angered  by  the  dwarf's  evasive  an- 
swers, he  seizes  him  by  the  throat  and  makes  him  tell 
the  truth  about  his  parentage.     When  he  is  shown  the 
fragments  of  the  magic  Nothung,  he  commands  Mime  to 
orge  them  into  a  new  sword,  and  rushes  out  into  the 
oreBtf  leaving  the  dwarf  in  perfect  despair,  for  he  has 
t'ten  tried  to  forge  these  pieces  into  a  sword,  but  found 
I  em  so  hard  that  all  his  arts  were  useless. 
As  he  cowers  down  by  the  anvil,  a  stranger  enters, 
hose  face  is  partly  covered  with  a  broad  hat.^    It  is 

^  UndAT  a  ecMtnme  sketch  of  Wotan,  dow  in  Oetterlefo*t  Wmfcner 
<4eiim  at  Vienna,  Wagner  has  written  :  "  full  brown  hair  and  beard, 
helmet,  but  a  Uurge  soft  felt  hat,  wliich  will  become  pictaresqne  by 
^g  mm  ildewise  on  the  head." 


842  THE  NIBELUNCP8  BINO 

Wotani  who  has  been  wandering  about  the  &oe  of  the 
earth,  and  now,  disguised  as  the  '' Wanderer/'  comes  to 
supervise,  as  far  as  he  may,  the  fate  of  his  grandson 
Siegfried,  who  is  to  recover  the  Bing  from  the  Dragon. 
He  claims  the  hospitality  of  Mime's  hearth,  offering  his 
advice  on  any  question  in  return;  but  Mime  says  he 
needs  no  advice.  At  last  he  consents  to  ask  the  stranger 
three  questions,  and  be  asked  three  in  return;  the  one 
who  fails  to  answer  all  three  shall  forfeit  his  head.  To 
the  questions  of  Mime :  Who  dwells  in  the  bowels  of  the 
earth  ?  who  on  the  face  of  the  earth  ?  who  on  the  cloudy 
heights  ?  Wotan  answers,  respectively,  the  dwarfs,  the 
giants,  and  the  gods.  Mime  then  answers  two  questions 
correctly,  but  fails  at  the  third:  ''Who  will  reforge  the 
sword  Nothung  ?  "  Wotan  supplies  the  answer.  "  He 
alone  who  has  never  felt  fear  can  fashion  Nothung  anew.'' 
Then  he  adds,  before  leaving:  — 

"Thy  crafty  head 
keep  if  thou  canst, 
as  forfeit  it  falls  to  him 
who  fear  has  never  yet  felt.'* 

Siegfried  returns,  and  is  very  indignant  on  finding  that 
Mime  has  not  succeeded  in  welding  together  the  frag- 
ments of  the  sword.  He  calls  him  a  bungler,  and  then 
tries  his  own  hand  at  the  task.  He  starts  the  fire  and 
the  bellows,  files  the  sword  into  pieces,  melts  them  in  a 
crucible,  pours  the  mass  into  a  long  mould,  and  plunges 
it  into  the  water.  Then  he  hammers  the  red-hot  steel, 
and  when  the  sword  is  finished,  he  brandishes  it,  and 
with  one  mighty  blow  cleaves  the  anvil  in  twain,  to 
Mime's  mingled  delight  and  consternation. 

Act  II.    Scene :  in  the  depths  of  a  forest  near  the 


SaOFBIED,   THE  FOSXST  DBAXA  848 

Dn^Q  Fafner's  den.  It  is  almost  dark.  Alberich  is 
continoally  in  that  neighborhood,  watching  an  opporta- 
city  to  steal  the  Bing  and  Tamhelmet  from  Fafner. 
Wotan  meets  him  and  tells  him  that  Siegfried  is  on  his 
way  to  slay  the  Dragon.  Alberich  replies  with  volleys  of 
abuse.  Wotao  mockingly  asks  him  to  propose  to  Fafner 
to  let  him  have  the  Ring,  in  return  for  the  information 
that  his  life  is  threatened  through  Siegfried.  He  pro- 
ceeds to  awake  the  Dragon,  who  answers  from  the  depths 
of  his  cavern  with  a  stentorian  voice  tfaat  he  is  willii^ 
the  hero  should  come;  that  he  is  hungry  for  such  a  mor- 
sel. Then  he  yawns  and  bids  the  men  not  to  disturb  his 
sleep  any  longer.  Wotan  disappears  in  a  storm  wind, 
and  Alberich  conceals  himself  for  he  sees  Mime  coming 
with  Siegfried.  Mime,  intimidated  by  Wotan's  proph- 
ecy about  the  "fearless  hero,"  has  resolved  that  Siegfried 
must  see  the  Dragon  at  once  and  learn  the  emotion  of 
fear.  If  Siegfried  should  not  learn  to  fear,  and  should 
succeed  in  killing  the  Drt^on,  Mime  has  resolved  to  save 
his  own  head  all  the  same,  and  secure  the  Ring  too,  by 
poisoning  Siegfried  after  the  deed.  So  he  leaves  him 
alone.  Siegfried  lies  down  under  a  huge  tree  and  listens 
to  the  song  of  the  birds  and  the  rustling  of  the  forest 
leaves.  He  wonders  what  the  birds  are  saying,  and  cuts 
a  reed  on  which  he  tries  to  imitate  them,  so  as  to  learn 
their  language;  but  the  result  is  a  grotesque  failure. 
Impatiently  he  seizes  his  horn  and  sounds  a  long  and 
merry  call.  This  wakes  up  the  Dragon,  who  seems  de- 
lighted to  see  Siegfried,  for  he  is  hungry. 

After  some  preliminary  banter  a  terrible  fight  ensnea, 
tuid  Fafner  receives  a  mortal  wound.  Some  of  the 
Dragon's  blood  is  sprinkled  on  Siegfried's  fingei.     It 


S44 


THE  SIBELUNG'S  BISO 


1 


burns,  and  he  puta  it  involuntarily  to  hia  lips.  This 
gives  him  suddenly  the  power  of  understanding  the  lan- 
guage of  the  birds.  He  listens,  and  one  of  them  tells 
him  to  go  into  the  cave  and  get  the  valuable  Ring.  After 
he  has  retired,  Mime  and  Albericb  arrive  and  quarrel  as 
to  who  shall  have  the  Ring  and  the  Tarnhelniet.  When 
Siegfried  returns,  the  bird  warns  him  against  Mime's 
murderous  intentions,  but  this  was  unnecessary,  as  the 
tasting  of  the  Dragon's  blood  has  enabled  Siegfried  to 
hear  Mime's  thoughts  in  place  of  bis  words.  So  when 
Mime,  after  many  murderous  compliments,  offers  his 
poisoned  bowl,  Siegfried  takes  his  sword  and  kills  him 
with  a  blow.  Again  he  listens  to  the  bird,  which  tells 
him  of  the  beautiful  Valkyrie,  asleep  on  the  fire-sur- 
rounded rock.  Then  it  flies  away,  and  Siegfried  exult- 
ingly  follows  its  guidance. 

Act  III.  A  wild  region  at  the  foot  of  a  precipitous 
cliff.  Amid  thunder  and  lightning  Wotan  summons  the 
all-knowing  Erda,  to  consult  her  regarding  the  impend- 
ing doom  of  the  gods.  Can  she  tell  him  how  to  stop  a 
rolling  wheel?  But  here  her  wisdom  ends.  Wotan  then 
informs  her  of  his  resignation.  Since  the  gods  are 
doomed,  he  worries  no  more;  it  is  even  his  wish.  The 
Volsung  Siegfried  shall  possess  the  Ring:  he  shall  be 
the  heir  of  the  supreme  power  in  the  world:  man's  rule 
.shall  succeed  that  of  the  gods.  As  Erda  sinks  into  her 
cave,  Siegfried  arrives,  still  following  the  bird  which  is 
guiding  him  to  the  fire-girded  rock  on  ivhich  Wotan  had 
left  Briinnhilde,  plunged  in  a  magnetic  sleep,  for  dis- 
obeying his  orders,  but  mercifully  surrounded  by  flames, 
so  that  none  but  a  dauntless  hero  who  fears  not  the  flames 
nor  Wotan's  spear  shall  wake  and  woo  her.     Wotan  holds 


81E0FRIED,   THE  F0BE8T  DRAMA  845 

out  his  spear  to  impede  Siegfried's  progress,  but,  after 
some  irreverent  badimige  Siegfried  cuts  it  in  two,  and 
boldly  climbs  the  rocks  amid  the  leaping  flames.  Clouds 
of  steam  and  fire  enyelop  the  whole  stage  amid  a  mag- 
nificent orchestral  outburst,  and  when  they  finally  dis- 
solve and  calm  down,  the  scene  has  changed  to  the  top  of 
the  rock  where  Briinnhilde  has  lain  asleep  ever  since 
Siegfried  was  bom.  Siegfried  unfastens  her  helmet, 
carefully  cuts  the  rings  of  mail  on  either  side  of  the 
armor,  and  then  lifts  off  the  cuirass  and  greaves.  Brtinn- 
hilde  lies  before  him  clad  in  soft  feminine  garments.  He 
starts  back  surprised  and  dazed  —  for  this  is  not  a  man, 
as  he  had  supposed,  but  a  woman  —  the  first  he  has  ever 
seen.  Now  at  last  trembling  and  awe  seize  him.  Love 
has  taught  him  what  neither  Fafner  nor  Mime  could  teach 
— the  emotion  of  fear.  But  his  passion  is  stronger  than 
his  fear,  and  he  stoops  down  and  with  a  long  and  raptur- 
ous kiss  awakens  the  demi-goddess  from  her  twenty  years' 
slumber.  After  the  first  delight  at  returning  to  the  light 
of  the  sun,  and  the  joy  at  recognizing  in  her  awakener 
the  hoped-for  hero  Siegfried,  Briinnhilde  remembers  her 
divine  origin  and  seeks  to  repel  his  passionate  advances ; 
but  Siegfried  soon  loses  again  the  newly-found  fear;  the 
womanly  instincts  awaken  in  Brdnnhilde,  and  she  throws 
herself  passionately  into  his  arms. 

''The  most  beautiful  of  my  life's  dreams,"  Wagner 
called  Siegfried;  and  I  have  already  expressed  the  con- 
viction that  he  considered  it  the  best  of  all  his  dramas. 
In  my  opinion  it  is  not  only  the  most  symmetrical  and 
perfect  of  his  works,  but  also  the  most  Wagnerian  —  that 
in  which  all  his  theories  are  most  consistently  and  most 


846  THE  NIBBLUSG'S  BINQ 

astonishingly  carried  out.     In  all  his  other  music-dramas 
acd  operas  there  are  choruses  or  easemble  numbers ;  even 
,  Sheingold  has  its  vocal  trios,  and   Tristan  has  a  short 
chorus,  while  in  three  of  its  scenes  the  stage  is  filled  with 
,  people.     But  in  Siegfried  there  are  at  no  time  more  than 
I    two  persons  on  the  sta^,  and  the  only  time  when  two 
I   voices  unite  for  a  moment  is  in  the  love-duo  at  the  end. 
More  curious  still,  with  the  exception  of  the  brief  epi- 
sodes of  Erda  and  the  Forest  Bird,  no  female  voice  is 
heard  till  the  second  half  of  the  last  act  is  reached.     No 
wonder  that  Saint-SaSns  exclaimed  in  regard  to  this,  "  the 
most  original  part  of  the  Tetralogy  " :  '■  Not  only  is  this 
no  longer  opera,  it  is  no  longer  the  theatre ;  the  spectator 
is  transported  to  an  entirely  new  world,  which  music  alone 
mnkea  poxsihle."    And  so  great  is  the  magic  of  Wagner's 
genius  that  few  spectators  realize  that  in  this  score  the 
last  traces  of  the  old  "opera"  are  eliminated,  until  their 
attention  is  called  to  the  matter. 

The  full-fledged  Wagnerites  do  not  agree  as  to  which 
is  the  master's  greatest  work.  As  for  myself,  I  have 
always  hesitated  between  Tristan  and  Siegfried.  The 
question  of  preference  between  these  two  is  more  a  mat- 
ter of  temperament  tlian  of  art  or  inspiration.  In  Tristan 
the  passion  of  love  has  found  its  most  ecstatic  expres- 
sion since  Shakespeare's  Romeo  and  Juliet ;  while  in  Sieg- 
fried we  have  pictures  of  forest  life,  some  of  which  may 
be  placed  side  by  side  with  the  forest  scenes  and  senti- 
ments in  As  You  Like  It.  From  a  poetic  point  of  view 
Siegfried  is,  beyond  all  question,  AVagner's  most  finished 
work.  It  is  simply  the  most  poetic  tale  in  German 
mythology  dramatized  and  set  to  music.  Almost  all  the 
features  of  the  drama  are  to  be  found  in  the  old  Rhine 


8IX0FBIED,  TEX  FOREST  DRAMA  847 

legends;  bat  just  as  no  one  but  Siegfried  knew  how  to 
weld  together  the  fragments  of  the  sword  Nothung,  so  it 
remained  for  Wagner  to  construct  a  coherent  drama  from 
the  poetic  material  which  is  scattered  through  the  differ- 
ent Scandinavian  and  Grerman  versions  of  tiie  Siegfried 
Saga. 

That  the  average  Grerman  mind  is  strangely  uncritical, 
singularly  blind  to  contemporaneous  genius,  is  proved 
once  more  by  the  fact  that  the  literary  critics  did  not  rise 
as  a  man  to  proclaim  the  beauties  of  this  Siegfried  poem, 
to  announce  the  birth  of  a  drama,  immortal  as  Gtoethe's 
Fa'iisty  unequalled  in  all  Grerman  literature  for  its  exqui- 
site mirroring  of  forest  life.  Rheingold  and  WdUcUre  are 
open-air  dramas  too,  but  Siegfried  far  surpasses  them 
in  buoyancy,  spontaneity,  and  delightful  realism  which 
makes  us  forget  every  moment  that  we  are  in  an  opera- 
house.  The  text  of  Siegfried  is  in  every  line  so  redolent 
of  nature,  and  poetic  beauties  are  so  abundant,  that  it 
seems  incredible  they  should  not  have  been  recognized  at 
once  and  loudly  celebrated,  without  a  dissentient  voice. 
Shakespeare  himself  could  not  have  placed  before  us  more 
vividly  this  son  of  a  Northern  forest,  brought  up  with 
bears  as  playmates,  ignorant  of  the  world  and  its  human 
denizens  excepting  the  dwarf  Mime;  ignorant  of  the 
existence  of  such  a  being  as  a  woman  until  brought  face 
to  face  with  Brfinnhilde.  The  brusqueness,  the  boyish 
naivete,  the  buoyancy,  the  boastfulness  springing  from 
his  fearlessness  —  all  the  traits  natural  to  such  a  forest 
child  are  embodied  in  Wagner's  Siegfried. 

No  less  naturalistic  and  individual  are  the  other  char- 
acters of  this  drama,  in  the  portrayal  of  whom  Wagner 
has  shown  more  convincingly  than  ever  the  advantages 


348  THE  NlBELUNG'a   RING 

to  be  gained  by  a  union  of  music  with  poetry  for  heighten 
iug  the  dramatic  effects.  Let  us  briefly  consider  a  few 
of  the  more  salient  points.  Mime's  hypocritical  song, 
"  A!s  zuUendes  Kind,"  in  which  he  recounts  his  servicea 
in  Siegfried's  behalf,  is  an  amusing  tale,  and  the  perGist- 
ent  way  in  which  subsequently  Mime  introduces  snatches 
of  it,  in  order  to  avoid  answering  Siegfried's  questions 
regarding  his  parentage,  produces  a  ludicrous  effect. 
Siegfried's  description  of  the  courtship  and  love  of 
animals  which  people  his  forest  home  is  another  pret^ 
conceit,  accompanied  by  the  tenderest  orchestral  strains; 
and  lovelier  still  are  both  the  music  and  the  poetry  when 
he  tells  of  bow  he  saw  his  image  reflected  in  the  brook. 
Most  pathetic  is  Mime's  tale  of  Sieglinde's  death,  inten- 
sified by  the  sorrowful  tones  and  accents  of  the  wood- 
wind instruments.  Magnificent  strains,  majestic  as  the 
Walhalla  motive  itself,  accompany  Wotan's  song  when 
he  enters  Mime's  cave-like  smithy. 

The  conclusion  of  the  interview  with  Mime  when 
Wotan,  in  speaking  of  the  gods  in  \Valhana,  involunta- 
rily touches  the  ground  with  his  spear,  and  a  faint 
rumbling  of  thunder  follows,  —  in  the  orchestra  as  well 
as  on  the  stage,  —  is  one  of  those  sublime  effects  which 
Wagner  first  introduced  on  the  operatic  stage.  And 
after  Wotan  has  left  Mime  to  his  fears,  cowering  on  the 
ground  and  gazing  into  the  forest,  where  his  crazed 
imagination  beholds  ghostly  flashes  and  flickers  of  sun- 
light, and  finally  a  vision  of  the  hideous  Dragon  itself, 
with  mouth  wide  open,  —  it  is  here  that  Wagner's 
marvellous  poetic  and  onomatopoetic  art  makes  one  of 
its  masterworks.  The  flickering  lights  as  scenically 
represented,    Mime's   exclamations,  and    the    flashing, 


SIEGFRIED,   TUE  FOREST  DRAMA  849 

shrieking,  delirious  sounds  in  the  orchestra  are  all  one 
and  the  same  thing;  language,  scene,  and  music  are  here 
as  identical  as  if  toe  had  but  a  single  sense  to  apprehend 
them. 

An  exquisite  use  of  the  Leading  Motive  principle  is 
made  in  the  following  scene,  when  Siegfried  has  returned, 
and  Mime  tries  to  teach  him  to  fear  by  giving  him  a 
gruesome  account  of  the  Dragon  and  his  den.  Siegfried 
declares  he  is  very  anxious  to  see  the  beast  and  learn  the 
new  emotion;  but  all  the  while  the  orchestra  does  not 
play  the  Dragon  motive,  but  the  Br(innhilde  motive  — 
thus  foreshadowing  in  a  most  poetic  way  that  not  the 
Dragon,  but  the  sleeping  maiden,  will  first  teach  him  to 
tremble  and  stand  in  awe.  Who  can  fail  to  see  in  a  case 
like  this  what  a  mighty  and  subtle  power  Wagner  has 
added  to  the  dramatist's  methods  by  his  use  of  the  Lead- 
ing Motives,  or  to  smile  at  the  stolidity  of  critics  like 
Dr.  Hanslick,  who  could  not  see  in  Leading  Motives  any- 
thing but  labels  such  as  chemists  put  on  their  bottles? 
To  note  only  one  more  application  of  the  same  principle 
—  when  Siegfried,  after  slaying  the  Dragon,  goes  into 
the  cave  to  get  the  King.  He  is  ignorant  of  its  power 
and  uses,  but  the  orchestra  knows  all  about  it,  and  by 
conjuring  some  motives  from  Bheingold,  tells  us  about 
the  rape  of  the  gold  and  its  significance.  In  a  word, 
Wagner  has,  with  his  Leading  Motives,  given  the  orches- 
tra the  faculty  of  definite  articulate  speech. 

The  grandest  rdle  for  tenors  of  the  future  will  be  that 
of  Siegfried;;  and  in  the  smithy  and  forging  songs  of  the 
first  act  of  this  drama  they  will  celebrate  their  greatest 
triumphs.  What  life,  what  buoyancy,  what  melody, 
what  humor,  pervade  those  songs!    This  whole  scene. 


350  TBE  ItlBSLVXO-S  RlSa 

indeed,  is  a  marvel  of  geoius,  a  source  of  imeuding  delight 
to  every  educated  spectator.  The  blowing  of  the  bellows, 
the  tiling  of  the  gword,  the  hissing  of  the  water  when  it 
is  plunged  in  red  hot,  the  hammering  of  it  on  the  anvil, 
are  sights  and  sounds  which  are  startlingly  similar  on 
the  stage  and  in  the  orchestra.  Musical  realism  can  go 
no  further,  and  when  Siegfried  raises  his  sword  and  with 
a  mighty  blow  splits  the  anvil  in  two  his  exultant  joy 
is  borne  across  the  house  on  the  Intoxicating  orchestral 
strains  and  sways  the  audience  irresistibly  to  enthusiasm. 
Xote,  also,  the  superb  effect  produced  when,  in  the  con- 
sciousness of  triumph,  Siegfried's  song  modulates  from 
minor  into  a  jubilant  major  pffian,  before  he  cleaves  the 
anvil. 

The  second  act  of  Siegfi^ied  is  unique  in  stage  art.  Its 
gem  is  the  scene  where  the  hero,  reclining  under  a  tree, 
listens  to  the  bird-voices.  The  whirr  and  lisping  of  the 
violins  is  an  acoustic  image  of  the  rustling  of  the  leaves 
and  of  the  shadows  of  twigs  dancing  on  the  trunks  of 
the  trees.  How  sweetly  the  bird-voices  animate  this 
forest-whirr  (Waldweben),  and  what  a  happy  thought  it 
was  to  leave  the  bird-voice  inarticulate  (instrumental) 
until  Siegfried  has  tasted  the  Dragon's  blood,  when  at 
once  it  becomes  articulate  (vocal),  so  that  the  audience 
has  the  same  experience  in  regard  to  its  intelligibility  as 
Siegfried  himself!  In  this  wonderful  scene  Wagner  has 
embodied  all  his  passion  for  nature  with  inimitable  art, 
even  as  in  the  preceding  act,  in  Siegfried's  questions 
regarding  his  mother,  he  gave  expression  to  the  senti- 
ment of  filial  love  with  an  art  which  no  previous  musi- 
cian has  approached. 

The  Dragon  scene  which  interrupts  this  forest  music 


i 


aiEQFBlED,   THK  FOREST  DRAMA  S51 

came  in  for  much  criticism  at  Bayreuih,  partly  owing  to 
the  fact  that  the  Dragon  ordered  in  England  did  not  arriTe 
in  time,  and  the  subetitute  hastily  made  teas  rather  an 
unwieldy  and  ludicrous  beast.  But  as  done  elsewhere, 
notably  at  the  Metropolitan  Opera  House  in  New  York, 
this  Dragon  is  quite  a  formidable  and  "life-like"  mini- 
ster. It  lashes  its  tail  furiously,  hisses  angry  steam 
from  its  nostrils,  moves  from  side  to  side  as  nimbly  as 
a  big  lizard,  and  when  it  dies,  covers  its  eyes  with  its 
lids  quite  pathetically. 

Some  of  Wagner's  opponents  have  imagined  that  they 
scored  a  great  point  against  him  by  remarking  that  many 
persons  in  the  audience  laugh  when  the  Dragon  first 
appears.  But  why  on  earth  should  they  not  laugh? 
Siegfried  is  a  fairy  tale,  and  Wagner  expects  his  adult 
hearers  to  take  it  in  the  way  adults  generally  take  a  feiry 
tale  —  in  a  humorous  or  semi-humorous  way.  Even  chil- 
dren do  hot  believe  you  are  a  bear  when  you  "  play  bear  ^ 
with  them ;  they  are  half  frightened,  half  amused  when 
you  pursue  them  on  all  fours;  and  for  grown  children  it 
is  not  necessary  to  take  the  Dragon  seriously  in  order  to 
be  delighted  with  the  scene.  Wagner  himself  treats  the 
scene  humorously  in  the  banter  between  Siegfried  and 
the  Dragoii  before  the  fight.  But  when  the  fight  really 
begins,  the  audience  is  as  downright  in  earnest  as  at  a 
bull-fight,  and  the  extraordinary  hubbub  in  the  orchestra 
makes  it  impossible  for  any  one  not  to  be  excited  over 
the  contest.  No  doubt  there  is  some  force  in  the  criti- 
cism that  Wagner  is  no  true  realist  because  he  makes  a 
dragon  sing.  At  first  sight  this  seems  a  serious  objection 
— yet,  come  to  think  of  it,  I  do  not  remember  to  have 
ever  met  a  dragon  who  did  not  sing. 


862  THE  NIBELUNCPa  HWO 

Seriously  speaking,  no  scene  ever  written  baa  givBD 
the  muaical  experts  more  opportunity  to  show  tlieir 
habitual  lock  of  poetic  feeling,  of  naivete,  and  sense  of 
humor,  tliau  this,  "  Touni/  Siesfiitd  baa  the  decided 
advantage  that  it  presents  the  important  myth  in  the 
form  of  a  play  to  the  public,  just  aa  a  fairy  tale  ia  pre- 
sented to  a  child."  Thus  wrote  Wagner  to  Uhlig,  in 
1851,  and  thus  it  is  that  the  public  looks  on  Siesfried 
to-day.  But  what  did  the  "experts"  in  1876  say  of  it? 
Here  are  a  few  specimens.     Joseph  Bennett  calls  it  — 

"  a  combat  uf  maQ  and  brut«  such  m  no  stage  art  can  make 
<iltier  but  absurd."  I'aul  Lintlau  exclaims  Ibat  "  it  BOems  incredi- 
ble that  an  anUt  of  Wagner's  rank  ehould  degrade  himself  by 
writing  music  for  a  show  which  belong  in  a  fair-ground.  Away 
with  the  worm  I  The  fight  with  the  Dragon  on  the  Btage  ia  cMldlalt 
and  objectionable,"  And  Dr.  HanaUck  remarks  that "  Wagner  com- 
posed this  scene  In  perfect  seriousness,  but  its  effect,  especially  at 
the  close,  nhen  the  Dragon  becomes  sentimental  and  makes  conQ- 
dentlal  communications  to  bis  murderer,  ia  extremely  comic." 

Comment  on  these  opinions  would  be  foolish.  A  man 
who  cannot  see  the  exquisite  combinations  of  humor  and 
pathos  in  this  fairy  scene  for  grown  children,  cannot  be 
helped  by  argument,  however  much  we  may  pity  him. 
Compare  with  these  philistinisms  the  words  of  another 
musical  expert,  who  is  at  the  same  time  a  man  of  feeling 
—  Anton  Seidl :  — 

"Every  time  that  the  Dragon  scene  is  enacted  on  the  stage 
(New  York)  I  see,  in  different  parts  of  th«  house,  a  smile  of  con- 
tempt, or  an  expression  of  surprise  at  the  childislmess  of  the  idea 
of  making  a  dragon  sing.  These  people  I  should  like  to  take  to 
Munich,  where  Fatner  is  sung  by  the  veteran  Kindermann.  Sel- 
dom have  1  heard  anything  more  pathetic  on  the  stage  than  the 
dying  words  of  this  dragon.    Not  I  alone,  who  might  be  accused  of 


SIEGFRIED,   THE  F0BE8T  DRAMA  353 

partiality,  bat  the  whole  audience  was  to  OTerwbelmed  \tj  pity  and 
sympathy  that  I  saw  tears  rolling  down  many  cbeeki^  Tbe  deash 
of  Fafner,  the  last  of  his  tribe,  I  nerer  heard  mora  pathetically 
enacted  than  by  this  artist.** 

As  for  the  comic  side  of  the  enoonnter  with  the  Dragon 
before  the  fight,  what  could  be  more  droll  than  Sieg- 
fried's banter  and  bragging  bluster,  and  the  Dragon's 
calm  and  contemptuous  rejoinder:  — 

•'To  drink  I  came, 
now  fodder  I  find  "  ? 

which  is  sung  with  such  gusto  that  we  can  easily  fancj 
the  hero  already  struggling  in  the  Dragon's  jaws.  Incred- 
ible as  it  may  seem.  Dr.  Hanslick  quotes  a  great  part  of 
this  inimitable  scene  by  way  of  showing  what  a  bungler 
the  poet  Wagner  is,  and  how  he  maltreats  the  Crenoan 
language!  As  a  matter  of  fact,  there  is  not»  in  all  Ger- 
man literature,  a  scene  in  which  the  language  used  is 
more  realistically  and  amusingly  adapted  to  tbe  situation 
than  here. 

One  of  the  most  amusing  touches  in  this  aet»  which  is 
full  of  the  spirit  of  comedy,  is  Mime's  parting  words  as 
he  leaves   Siegfried  under  the  tre^  waiting  for  the 

Dragon :  — 

"  Fkfner  and  Siegfried — 

Siegfried  and  Fkfner^ 

Woold  that  each  sbmijiteied  the  other.'* 

But  the  most  ingenious  bit  of  humor  occurs  in  the 
lines  where  Mime  sings  his  murderous  thoughts  to  Sieg- 
fried in  the  sweetest  of  accents,  while  Siegfried,  thanks 
to  having  tasted  the  Dragon's  blood,  hears  his  niol  senti- 
ments instead  of  his  Meiuled  words,  with  this  climax: 


354  THE  NlBELUyeS  BISQ 

"  Why,  my  dartiDg  child,  you  do  not  understand  me!  T 
merely  wish  to  chop  off  youi  head  I "  It  is  in  scenes  like 
this,  where  the  music  can  give  one  sentiment  while  the 
words  express  another,  that  the  superioritj'  of  the  music- 
drama  to  the  literary  drama  is  incontestably  showo. 

Wagner  is  very  partial  to  the  introductions  to  his  third 
acts.  Tannh&uaer,  Lohen^in,  7Vt«(an,  MeisUrsinger,  and 
Parsifal  have  such  introductions,  which  may  be  consid- 
ered the  orchestral  gems  of  these  works.  Siegfried,  too, 
has  a  wonderfully  constructed  tone-poem  to  lead  into  the 
stormy  and  weird  opening  scene  of  the  third  act.  One 
feels  that  this  exuberance,  this  exultation,  can  hardly  be 
purely  artistic  —  that  it  must  have  a  biographic  signifi- 
cance: and  so  it  has;  for  remember  this  act  was  composed 
after  King  Ludwig  had  invited  Wagner  to  resume  the 
long-neglected  Trilogy.  The  joy  over  this  happy  turn 
in  his  affairs  seems  to  hare  infected  the  Uiird  act  of 
Siegfried,  to  which  he  now  turned  after  this  long  inter- 
ruption. It  is  the  greatest,  the  most  inspired,  of  the 
three  acts.  Although  the  opening  scene  between  Wotan 
and  Erda,  with  its  weird  harmonies  and  mysterious  tone- 
colors,  is  perhaps  for  musical  epicures  only,  the  follow- 
ing scene,  where  Siegfried  ascends  the  mountain  amid 
the  flames,  while  the  orchestra  flickers  and  fiames,  and 
roars,  carries  away  even  the  most  unsusceptible  portion 
of  tlie  audience;  and  the  scene  which  follows,  when  the 
hero  has  awakened  the  Valkyrie  with  his  "  long,  long  kiss 
of  youth  and  love,"  is  merely  a  translation  of  these  magic 
flames  to  the  hearts  of  the  lovers,  where  they  rage  and 
burn  on. 

The  passionate  love-duo  which  closes  the  act  would  be 
magnificent  in  any  place ;  but  coming  as  it  does,  it  affords 


DIE  QOTTERDAMMSRVtia  856 

a  remarkable  instance  of  Wagner's  dramatic  Ingenuity. 
Throughout  the  first  two  acts  and  part  of  the  third,  for 
more  than  three  hours  and  a  half  the  spectator  has  heard 
no  female  voice,  with  the  exception  of  the  few  notes  sung 
by  the  Forest  Bird  and  Erda.  Siegfried,  when  he  finds 
Briinnhilde,  had  never  seen  a  woman;  the  audience, 
when  she  begins  to  sing,  feel  as  if  they  had  never  heard 
a  woman's  voice.  The  effect  is  thrilling,  and  one  under- 
stands why  in  ascetic  times  women  were  not  allowed  to 
sing  in  church:  for  the  very  timbre  of  woman's  voice 
suggests  love. 

DIS  GfiTTKBDJUlHERDKO 
After  the  Siegfiried  forest-drama,  in  which  the  tiagie 
elements  are  happily  relieved  by  comic  incidents,  and 
which  Dr.  Hueffer,  in  comparing  the  Tetralogy  to  a 
symphony,  aptly  characterized  as  the  Scherzo,  we  come  \ 
to  the  tragic  gloom  and  sublimity  of  the  final  drama,  the 
Ihuk  of  the  Ooda.  It  ia  twice  as  long  as  Rkeingold,  in- 
cluding as  it  does  a  prelude  consisting  of  twu  long  scenes, 
besides  the  usual  three  acts.  Dramatically,  as  well  as 
musically,  Die  OStterddmrnerung  contains  material  enough 
for  half-a-dozen  operas  in  the  old  style.  The  story  is  a 
continuation  of  Siegfried's  adventures.  When  that  hero 
had  slain  Fafner,  he  left  all  the  golden  Nibelung  treas- 
ures in  the  Dragon's  cave,  taking  with  him  only  the 
Tamhelmet  and  the  Bing,  hardly  conscious  of  their 
value,  although  the  bird  had  told  him  that  the  Ring 
ensured  supreme  power  in  the  world  to  its  possessor. 
At  the  close  of  Siegfried  we  saw  Brtlnnhilde  throwing 
herself  passionately  into  the  arms  of  the  fearless  hero 
who  had  crossed  the  flames  to  woo  and  wed  her. 


356  THE  yiBBLUNO'a  SING 

Prelude.  As  the  curtain  rises  on  the  last  drama  of  the 
Tetralogy,  we  see  once  more  Briinnhilde'a  rock,  with  a 
rim  of  fire  in  the  background,  too  faint  to  dispel  the 
twilight  gloom  in  which  we  behold  indistinctly  the  three 
Noms,  or  Fates,  in  dark  gannents,  fastening  their  golden 
cord  in  turn  to  a  tree  or  rock  and  unravelling  the  past, 
present,  and  fiiture  from  its  fibres.  They  tell  of  Sieg- 
fried's bold  act  in  shattering  Wotan's  spear,  and  how 
Wotan,  thereafter,  had  the  worhl-ash,  from  which  the 
spear  had  been  made,  cut  into  pieces  which  were  piled 
around  Walhalla,  in  which  he  and  the  other  gods  were 
awaiting  their  end.  As  they  are  about  to  pry  into  the 
future,  the  cord  snaps  apart,  and  the  Norns  disappear. 

The  rising  sun  has  almost  obliterated  the  encircling 
flames,  when  Siegfried  and  Bniiinhilde  appear  on  the 
scene.  They  have  enjoyed  a  happy  period  of  wedded 
life,  and  the  former  Valkyrie  has  imparted  to  Siegfried 
much  of  her  divine  knowledge,  besides  making  him 
invulnerable  —  except  in  the  back,  for  she  knows  that  her 
hero  will  never  show  his  back  to  an  enemy.  After  the 
custom  of  mediaeval  heroes  it  is  now  time  for  Siegfried 
to  go  in  quest  of  new  adventures.  He  gives  her  his  Ring 
as  pledge  of  his  fidelity,  and  she  gives  him  her  shield 
and  her  steed  Grane,  no  longer  able  to  speed  through  the 
air,  but  still  a  horse  such  as  mortal  never  rode  before. 

Act  I.  In  the  open  hall  of  the  Gibicbungs'  burg,  with 
a  view  of  the  Rhine  in  the  background,  Gunther,  Gu- 
trune,  and  Hageu  are  sitting  at  a  table.  Neither  King 
Gunther  nor  his  beautiful  sister,  Gutrune,  is  married, 
and  Hagen  is  anxious  that  they  should  be.  Hagen  is  a 
wild,  gloomy  warrior,  the  King's  half-brother,  the  off- 
spring of  Gunther's  mother  and  the  dwarf  Alberich,  who 


DIE  aOTTERDAMUERUNQ  857 

had  succeeded  in  gaining  with  gold  the  love  which  his 
curse  had  made  inaccessible  to  him  otherwise.  Just  as 
Wotan  has  reared  Siegmund  to  be  the  means  of  getting 
back  the  Eing,  so  Alberich  had  begotten  Hagen  as  his 
agent.  Hagen  knows  what  is  wanted  of  him,  and  he  has 
a  wily  plan  for  securing  the  Bing.  Knowing  that  Sieg- 
fried possesses  it,  the  first  step  necessary  is  to  have  that 
hero  near  him.  He  begins  by  reproaching  the  King  for 
not  being  married,  and  tells  him  of  a  beauteous  woman 
who  should  be  his  queen  —  the  Valkyrie,  Br(innhilde. 
Hagen  does  not  know  that  Brtinnhilde  has  already  been 
wooed  and  won,  but  he  knows  that  no  one  but  Siegfried 
can  penetrate  the  flames  surrounding  her.  He  therefore 
proposes  that  they  should  find  Siegfried,  and  offer  him 
the  hand  of  the  beautiful  Gutrune  if  he  should  consent 
to  win  Brtinnhilde  as  bride  for  Gunther.  The  objection 
that  Siegfried  might  already  be  in  love  is  brushed  aside 
by  Hagen,  who  knows  how  to  brew  a  drink  which  will 
cause  the  hero  to  forget  all  other  women,  and  fall  in  love 
with  Gutrune.  Hardly  has  this  scheme  been  elaborated, 
when  a  merry  horn  is  heard,  and  presently  Siegfried  is 
seen  coming  opportunely  down  the  Rhine.  He  is  wel- 
comed, the  potion  is  administered  and  has  the  desired 
effect.  He  forgets  his  wife,  asks  for  Gutrune's  hand, 
and  she  is  promised  to  him  after  he  shall  have  delivered 
Brdnnhilde  into  the  King's  hands.  Without  delay  he 
sets  out  with  Gunther  on  the  journey,  after  swearing 
blood-brotherhood  with  him. 

In  the  meantime,  we  are  brought  back  to  Brtinnhilde, 
who  sits  on  her  rock  fondly  contemplating  her  beloved 
Ring.  She  is  roused  from  her  reverie  by  a  sudden  storm, 
in  tiie  midst  of  which  appears  Waltraute,  one  of  her 


358  THE  NIBELUNO'S  BIIfG 


^ 


sister -Valkyries.  In  mournful  tones  abe  tells  of  the  sad 
state  of  affairs  at  Walhalla,  with  Wotan  and  the  other 
gods  awaiting  their  doom  in  gloomy  silence.  Once  only 
had  Wotan  spoken,  to  say  that  were  Brflnuhilde  to  return 
the  Kingto  the  Rhine-maidens,  "the  curse's  weight  would 
he  taken  from  god  and  the  world."  Upon  hearing  which 
Waltraute  had  hastened  to  BrCinnhilde  to  entreat  her  to 
give  up  the  Ring.  But  in  vain.  The  Ring  is  the  pledge 
of  Siegfried's  faith,  the  symbol  of  his  love,  and  what  is 
all  the  world,  what  is  the  eternal  happiness  and  fate  of 
all  the  gods,  to  Siegfried's  love?  In  despair,  presaging 
woe  to  her  and  to  Walhalla's  hosts,  Waltraute  mounts 
her  horse  and  hastes  away  through  the  air.  So  sooner 
has  she  left  tlian  Brflnnhilde  hears  a  horn  —  Siegfried's 
horn.  She  jumps  upj  and  througli  the  columns  of  fire 
comes  a  man.  It  is  Siegfried,  but  transformed  into  the 
shape  of  Guntber  by  means  of  the  Tamhelmet,  whose 
secret  Hagen  had  revealed.  At  sight  of  the  form  of  a 
stranger  Briinnhilde  starts  back  in  horror;  but  Siegfried 
pursues  her,  and  after  a  short  struggle  takes  away  her 
Ring.  After  this  she  is  powerless,  and  obliged  to  fol- 
low him  obediently  to  her  abode.  Before  entering,  Sieg- 
fried draws  his  sword,  which,  he  says,  shall  rest  between 
him  and  Gunther's  bride,  to  prove  that  faitlifully  he 
wooed  for  his  friend. 

Act  II.  Hagen,  spear  in  hand,  shield  by  his  side,  is 
sitting  in  front  of  the  King's  castle.  He  is  asleep,  and 
the  bright  rays  of  the  moon,  suddenly  falling  on  him, 
show  the  figure  of  Alberich,  who  is  kneeling  before  his 
son,  and,  as  in  a  trance  or  dream,  urges  him  to  persist 
in  his  plot  to  get  the  Ring;  with  it,  they  two  will  b» 
rulers  of  the  world,  but  if  the  Rhine-maidens  should 


DIX  OOTTEBDAMMBSUWa  869 

get  poasesaion  of  it  f^in,  it  will  be  lost  forever.  Hagea 
promises,  and  Alberich  vanishes.  Slowly  the  sun  rises 
and  shows  first  its  red  rays  and  gradually  full  daylight  - 
on  the  waters  of  the  Rhine.  Suddenly  Siegfried  appears 
from  behind  a  bush,  and  takes  oS  the  Tarnhelmet,  th« 
use  of  which  had  enabled  him  to  transport  himself 
instantaneously  back  to  the  King's  palace,  while  Gunther 
himself  follows  more  slowly  by  water  with  his  unwilling 
bride,  Brflnnhilde.  Hagen  ascends  a  cliff,  and  his  loud 
heighol  heighol  his  cries  of  danger,  and  call  to  arms 
soon  bring  his  warriors  around  him,  eager  to  know  the 
source  of  trouble;  but  when  they  bear  that  the  fancied 
danger  is  the  King's  impending  marriage,  and  that  they 
are  expected  to  prepare  for  a  great  feast,  great  hilarity 
ensues,  since  even  grim  Hagen  is  so  facetiously  disposed. 
The  King  presently  arrives  with  hie  bride,  and  is  greeted 
by  a  chorus  of  welcome  and  congratulation.  Brtinn- 
hilde's  astonishment  on  seeing  Siegfried  changes  to 
indignation  when  she  finds  that  he  claims  Gutrune  as 
his  bride,  and  her  anger  reaches  a  climax  of  fury  when 
she  sees  her  Ring  on  his  finger.  She  indignantly  accuses 
him  of  deceit,  and  claims  that  she  is  his  real  wife. 
Siegfried,  ignorantly  guilty,  swears  on  the  point  of 
Hagen's  spear  that  he  is  innocent,  that  his  sword  rested 
between  him  and  BrCinnhilde  that  nighty  but  she  angrily 
pushes  him  aside  and  swears  that  be  iA  guilty  of  perjury, 
Siegfried,  with  a  sneer  at  this  mysterious  exhibition  of 
feminine  temper,  ends  the  scene  by  putting  his  arm 
around  Gutrune,  and  entering  the  hall,  leaving  Hagen, 
the  King,  and  his  bride  alone.  They  resolve  that  the 
traitor  must  die,  and  Brflnnhilde  informs  Hagen  that 
the  hero's  body  is  vulnerable  in  the  back.    To  save 


360  TBE  yiBELUNCS   RlifO 

Gutrune's  feelings  it  is  decided  that  Siegfried  shall  fall 
in  the  woods,  on  a  hunting  expedition,  so  tha.t  his  death 
may  be  attributed  to  a  wild  boar. 

Act  III.  takes  us  to  a  wild  forest  region  by  the  shore 
of  the  Rhine.  The  three  Rhine-maidens  emerge  from 
the  water,  lamenting  the  loss  of  their  gold,  and  implor- 
ing the  sun  to  send  that  way  the  hero  who  wears  the  ring 
made  of  that  gold.  Their  prayer  is  heard.  Siegfried, 
pursuing  a  bear,  gets  separated  from  his  companions, 
and  suddenly  cornea  across  the  Rhine-daughters.  They 
lieg  him  for  the  Ring  on  his  iinger,  telling  of  the  curse 
attaehed  to  it,  and  prophesying  his  death  that  very  day 
if  lie  keeps  it;  but  he  looks  on  all  tlieir  coaxing  and 
warning  as  a  way  women  have  to  get  what  they  want^ 
and  refuses  to  part  with  the  Ring.  The  maidens  dive 
and  vanish  as  the  horns  of  Siegfried's  companions  are 
heard.  Gunther,  Ha^n,  and  the  hunters  now  appear  on 
the  scene,  with  the  game  on  their  shoulders.  They  all 
lie  down  in  groups  and  pass  around  the  cup.  Hagen 
addresses  Siegfried,  saying  he  has  heard  that  he  under- 
stands the  language  of  birds.  Thus  invited,  Siegfried 
tells  the  story  of  Mime,  the  Dragon,  and  the  forest-bird. 
When  he  has  got  to  the  place  wliere  he  followed  the  bird 
to  Briinnhilde's  sleeping-place,  Hagen  gives  him  a  drink 
with  wliich  he  has  secretly  mixed  the  juice  of  an  herb. 
This  potion  restores  his  remembrance  of  Brflnnhilde,  and 
he  jiroceeds  to  relate  how  he  wooed,  won,  and  wedded 
her.  As  Gunther  listens,  horrified,  to  this  revelation, 
two  ravens  fly  across  the  stage.  Siegfried  turns  to  look 
at  them,  and  H^en  stabs  him  in  the  ba«k,  to  the  con- 
sternation of  all.  Siegfried  makes  a  last  effort  to  crush 
Hagen  with  bis  shield,  then  falls  down  and  expires  with 


Da  QOTTEBDAMiaBUUO  861 

a  greeting  to  Br(innhilde.  The  body  is  placed  on  bis 
shield  and  slowly  carried  up  the  hill  in  the  moonlight,  to 
the  sound  of  the  majestic  dead-march,  the  procession 
gradually  disappearing  in  the  gathering  mists. 

Meanwhile,  at  the  castle,  Gutrone  awaits  Siegfried's 
return.  Hagen  comes  and  tells  her  he  has  been  killed 
by  a  boar.  The  corpse  arrives,  and  Gutrune  throws  her- 
self on  it  in  despair.  Hagen  claims  the  Ring,  and  when 
Gunther  opposes  him  he  kills  him  with  a  stab.  Hagen 
then  attempts  to  snatch  the  Ring  from  Siegfried's  finger, 
when  the  corpse  raises  its  hand  in  awful  warning.  At 
this  moment  Briinnhilde  appears,  solemnly,  majestically. 
Gutrune  accuses  her  of  being  the  cause  of  all  this,  when 
Brdunhilde  scornfully  informs  her  that  she  has  never 
been  anything  but  Siegfried's  mistress,  as  she  herself 
was  his  lawful  wife.  She  directs  the  young  men  to  build 
a  funeral  pyre  and  place  on  it  the  body  of  Siegfried, 
after  she  has  taken  the  Ring  from  his  finger.  Then  she 
throws  a  torch  under  the  pyre,  and,  as  the  flames  rise  on 
high,  seizes  her  horse  and  rushes  into  the  burning  mass. 
Suddenly  the  fire  collapses,  the  Rhine  begins  to  swell 
until  it  has  reached  the  coals  of  the  pyre,  bearing  on  its 
surface  the  three  Rhine-daughters,  one  of  whom  recovers 
the  King  from  the  ashes.  On  seeing  this,  Hagen  jumps 
into  the  water,  with  the  cry,  "Back  from  the  Ring," 
but  is  pulled  down  and  drowned.  The  sky  is  seen 
aglow:  Walhalla  is  in  flames.  The  end  of  the  gods  is 
at  hand. 

The  story  of  Die  Odtterddmmerung  is  related  in  the 
preceding  pages  as  it  is  unfolded  in  the  poem  and  as  it 
was  enacted  at  Bayreuth.     Unfortunately,  the  example 


862  THE  NIBELUNG-a  RISO 

of  Bajreutb  has  seldom  been  followed  in  other  cities; 
and  for  this  Wagner  himself  is  to  blame.  There  can  be 
no  doubt  that,  for  practical  purpoaea.  Die  QotterdHmme- 
rung  is  too  long.  At  Bayreuth,  where  the  Wagner  dramas 
are  every  one's  business  as  well  as  pleasure,  and  where 
performances  begin  at  four  and  have  an  hour's  intermis- 
sion after  each  act,  four  to  five  hours  of  music  is  perhaps 
not  too  much;  but  under  ordinary  circumstauces,  where 
the  opera  is  looked  upon  as  recreation  after  the  day's 
business,  three  hours  is  quite  enougli.  Wagner  followed 
Meyerbeer's  bad  example  in  this  respect,  at  any  rate, 
that  he  made  most  of  bis  works  extend  to  four  hours  and 
more.  The  consequence  is  that  cuts  and  mutilations  can 
hardly  be  avoided.  In  the  last  drama  of  the  Tetralogy, 
three  scenes  are  habitually  sacrificed,  two  of  which  are 
unique  mood  pictures.  Nothing  could  bo  finer  in  its 
way  than  the  sombre  opening  scene  of  the  Noms  —  a 
"  symphony  in  gray  "  to  the  eyes  as  to  the  ears ;  yet  this 
is  frequently  omitted,  as  is  that  companion  piece  of 
gloom  and  weirdness,  Alberich's  interview  with  Hagen 
("Schlttf'st  du,  Hagen,  mein  Sohn?")  which  at  Bay- 
reuth  made  the  cold  chills  creep  down  one's  back.  Not 
less  important,  musically,  is  the  third  scene,  now  often 
omitted  —  Waltraute's  visit  to  Briiunhilde;  poetically, 
too,  this  is  one  of  the  best.  Has  ever  poet  or  playwright, 
in  hyperbolic  language  or  dramatic  situation,  more  strik-. 
ingly  revealed  the  essence,  the  superlative  importance 
of  the  master  passion,  as  ia  done  here  in  Briinnhilde's 
refusal  to  part  with  the  Ring,  the  pledge  of  Siegfried's 
love,  even  though  she  could  thereby  redeem  the  world 
from  its  curse,  and  save  the  gods  from  their  impending 
doom? 


DUr  GOTTEBDAMMEBUNG  868 

**  A  gjanoe  at  its  gUttering  gold, 
a  flash  of  its  ciiding  fire— 

blinds  my  senses 

to  all  your  gods* 

erer-lasting  &te  1 

For  always  in  it 
speaks  to  me  8iegfried*s  lore.** 

If  the  parts  usually  omitted  have  such  chann,  what 
must  be  said  of  those  that  remain,  those  that  no  Kapell- 
meister could  be  so  callous  as  to  cut?  To  mention  them 
all  would  be  to  go  over  the  whole  tragedy  again.  A  few 
may  be  recalled  here.  If  I  were  asked  what  is  the  most 
thrilling  scene  ever  composed,  I  should  hesitate  between 
the  climax  of  the  Tristan  love-duo  and  the  love-duo  in 
the  second  prelude  to  the  OdUerd&mmerungf  where  Sieg- 
fried takes  leave  of  BrOnnhildCi  and  she  gazes  rapturously 
after  him  until  his  horn  dies  away  in  the  distance. 
There  is  no  sadness  in  this  parting;  the  love-intoxication 
is  too  complete,  too  joyous,  too  confident,  to  allow  any 
other  feeling  to  be  mingled  with  it,  even  at  the  moment 
of  parting:  and  to  this  amorous  rapture  the  two  voices, 
and  afterwards  the  orchestra  alone,  give  expression  with 
a  vividness  which  makes  mere  human  speech,  in  the 
greatest  of  tragedies,  spoken  by  the  greatest  of  trage- 
dians, seem  impotent  and  dumb  in  comparison.  It  is 
the  amorous  apotheosis  of  pantomimic  music,  following 
a  sublime  love-duo;  it  is  the  vindication  of  the  claims  of 
the  music-drama  to  be  considered  the  first  of  all  human 
arts. 

Of  action,  in  the  usual  theatric  sense  of  the  word,  there 
is  more  in  the  06Uerddmmerung  than  in  any  other  of  its 
author's  dramas  except — for  its  length  —  in  BkehiffokL 


364  TEE  yiBELVNG'S  BtHQ  ^ 

Incident  crowds  on  inoident.  If  in  Siegfried  the  reader 
often  stops  to  admire  the  exquisite  poetry  of  nature,  in 
the  last  drama  of  the  Tetralogy  he  iB  hurried  along  in 
breathless  excitement  by  the  absorbing  interest  of  the 
action.  With  the  music  the  fascination  ia  more  than 
doubled, 

>'  The  muaie  Iriptts  At  inteniUji  o/  tlie  feelings  wUh  Khieh  tke 

'  characterg  are  anlmnted — that  In  all  one  can  say  M  those  who  have 
not  heard  it,"  wrote  SainUSaina  at  Bayreulh.  "Tbo  auditor,"  ho 
adiia,  "  loses  all  aense  o£  Ume  as  by  a  magic  effect,  and  forgets  to 
count  the  hours."  "  It  ia  impossible  to  give  tbe  faiutest  Idea  of 
such  music ;  it  resembles  no  other." 

Much  has  been  written  about  the  thrilling  mxirder 
scene,  and  the  grandeur  of  the  Dead  March,  in  which  the 
story  of  Siegfried's  life  ia  retold  just  as  the  scenes  of  hia 
life  are  said  to  recur  to  a  drowning  man,  or  as  a  minister 
eulogizes  a  fallen  hero  over  the  grave  by  recounting  his 
deeds.  It  was  one  of  those  subtle  strokes  of  genius  which 
seem  as  inevitable  as  laws  of  nature  that  this  funereal 
conclusion  to  Siegfried's  life  should  follow  immediately 
upon  his  recital  o£  his  early  life  —  that  glorious  narra- 
tive in  which  we  once  more  hear  all  the  enchanting 
motives  of  the  Siegfried  drama.  This  whole  scene  is  one 
before  which  even  the  frivolous  box-holders  of  our  mod- 
ern opera-houses  are  awed,  and  for  which  they  are  willing 
to  postpone  their  supper.  I'erhaps  I  may  be  permitted 
to  quote  what  I  wrote  after  a  performance  of  the  Ootter- 
diimmening  at  the  Metropolitan  Opera  House  in  New 
York:  — 

"  But  last  evening,  when  Wagner's  elaborate  tragedy  was  given, 
all  the  boxes  remained  occupied  until  aft^r  Siegfried's  body  had 
been  carried  up  tbe  bill  amid  the  lowering  clouds ;  and  there  wma 


DIE  QOTTERDAMMERVNQ  865 

a  solemn  silence  throughout  the  house  as  if  it  had  been  a  real 
funeral  of  a  great  general  or  man  of  genius.  This  scene  is  one 
before  which  the  most  inveterate  enemy  of  Wagner  and  the  mott  ; 
unmusical  mind  must  bow  in  awe,  and  confess  that  there  is  nothiiig 
to  match  it  in  the  whole  range  of  dramatic  composition,  with  or 
without  music.  It  is  a  scene  which  has  perhaps  made  more  con- 
verts to  Wagner  than  anything  else  he  wrote,  and  which  at  the 
twentieth  hearing,  as  at  the  first,  touches  the  heart  as  profoundly 
and  pathetically  as  any  tragedy  in  real  life  in  which  we  are  person- 
ally concerned.  Go,  ye  scoffers,  hear  this  drama,  and  hang  your 
heads  in  shame  at  the  thought  that  you  ever  spoke  a  word  in  dis- 
paragement of  a  genius  who  could  create  such  a  sublime  scene.** 

In  a  preceding  chapter  the  question  was  put.  Which  is 
the  greatest  of  Wagner's  works?  and  the  answer  was. 
Either  Tristan  or  Siegfriedj  the  first  named  being  musi- 
cally the  more  epoch-making,  while  Siegfried  is  the  more 
symmetrical  and  perfect  as  a  work  of  art.  But  were  L 
asked,  Which  is  the  greatest  act  ever  composed  by  Wag- 
ner? I  should  answer,  The  third  act  of  Ootterddmmerung. 
For  this  act  contains  not  only  the  wonderful  autobio- 
graphic and  death-scenes  just  described,  but  it  has  two 
others  which  have  no  equal  in  the  whole  range  of  music. 
Even  Weber  in  his  Oberon  has  nothing  so  enchanting  as  < 
the  trio  of  the  Khine-maidens  mingling  their  sweety 
plaintive,  or  warning  tones  with  the  weird  harmonies  of 
the  orchestra.  Wagner,  in  his  later  works,  seldom  writes 
concerted  pieces,  but  when  he  does,  how  he  distances  all 
competitors!  And  what  a  mighty  ocean  of  sound  the 
final  scene  is,  when  Brunnhilde  gives  majestic  utterance 
to  her  grief,  announces  the  impending  conflagration  of 
Walhalla,  and  greets  her  lover,  whom  she  is  about  to 
join  on  the  funeral  pyre.  Here,  all  the  pertinent  leading 
motives  of  the  whole  Tetralogy  are  once  more  recalled  and 


366  THB  JKZBSLUNCPa  BIJUO 

combined,  with  an  astounding  art  of  construction  at  which 
Bach  himself  would  have  opened  wide  his  eyes  in  won- 
der, and  with  an  overwhelming  emotional  effect  at  which 
he  would  have  bowed  his  head  in  awe  and  admiration. 
It  is  an  ocean  of  sound  to  which  each  of  the  dramas  con- 
tributes its  rivers  and  rivulets.  How  exultingly  Loge's 
fire-motive  seizes  upon  the  burg  of  the  gods  t  Once  more 
Siegfried's  motive  is  heard,  but  the  sounds  which  have 
presaged  the  end  of  the  gods  smother  it.  But  neither 
Loge  nor  this  gloomy  06tterd&mmerung  motive  have  the 
last  word.  The  new  melody,  symbolizing  the  redemption 
through  love,  rises  on  the  violins,  upheld  by  the  harps, 
proclaiming  that  the  curse  of  Alberich's  Eing  has  been 
expiated. 

Not  the  least  remarkable  thing  in  the  Cfdtterddmmerung 
is  the  delightful  freshness  and  spontaneity  of  the  music. 
It  might  be  stated  as  a  general  rule  that  great  composers 
have  written  their  most  inspired  works  in  the  later  years 
of  their  life.  Should  any  one,  however,  doubt  this,  he 
might  still  find  an  explanation  for  the  spontaneity  of 
this  drama  in  the  fact  that  some  of  its  melodies  sprouted 
in  Wagner's  mind  immediately  after  Lohengrin  was  com- 
pleted, for  it  was  at  that  time  that  the  poem  of  Siegfried^ a 
Tod  (the  original  version  of  Odtterddmmerung)  was  writ- 
ten; and  it  was  Wagner's  way,  as  we  have  seen,  to  con- 
ceive his  principal  musical  themes  at  the  time  when  the 
poem  was  written.  Tappert  (77)  tells  us,  from  Wagner's 
own  testimony,  that  this  was  true  of  some  of  the  music 
in  this  case;  and  in  a  letter  to  Liszt,  written  in  the  month 
of  the  first  performance  of  Lohengnn  (August,  1850), 
when  he  still  intended  to  set  the  original  Siegfried^s  Tod 
to  music,  he  exclaimed  that  the  Siegfried  (i.e.  OdUer- 


NIBELUNQ  CRITIC 8  AND  PBOPHXTS        867 

ddmmerung)  music  was  already  haunting  him  in  all  his 
organs  (tpukt  mir  bereita  in  alien  Oliedem),^ 

Regarding  the  sources  of  Wagner's  Nibelung  poems  so 
much  has  been  written  elsewhere  that  it  suffices  here  to 
recall  the  fact  that  less  use  was  made  of  the  mediaeval 
Ifibdungenlied  than  of  the  still  older  Edda  Myths^  which 
Wagner  sifted  and  welded  into  his  Bing.^ 

NIBBLUKG  CBinCS  AND  PBOPHET8 

Some  time  after  the  first  Nibelung  rehearsals  Liszt 
wrote  to  a  friend:  '' Of  the  wonderwork.  The  Nibelung  a 
Bingf  I  have  lately  heard  more  than  twenty  rehearsals 
at  Bayreuth.  It  overtops  and  commands  our  whole  art- 
epoch  as  Mont  Blanc  does  our  other  mountains."  A 
similar  thought  occurred  to  Saint-Sa^ns,  who  wrote  that 
"  from  the  elevation  of  the  last  act  of  O^tterdfimmerung 
the  whole  work  appears,  in  its  almost  supernatural  gran- 
deur, like  the  chain  of  the  Alps  seen  from  the  summit  of 
Mont  Blanc." 

This,  however,  was  but  the  silly  enthusiasm  of  two 
men  of  genius.  The  academic  ''  experts  "  knew  better. 
Professor  Lombroso,  in  The  Man  of  Oenius,  remarks 
that  — 

**  it  is  sufficient  to  be  present  at  any  academy,  nniyersity,  faculty, 
or  gathering  of  men  who,  without  genius,  possess  at  least  emdi- 

1  Poor  Hanslick,  ignorant  of  theue  facts,  once  more  gaTS  proof  of  his 
critical  acumen  by  pointing  ont  that  in  the  pther  Nibelung  dramas  there 
"  coursed  a  quicker,  warmer  blood,  indicating  an  earlier  origin,  whereas 
on  the  Odtterddmmerung  there  lies  a  peculiarly  oppressiTe  fatigue  and 
exhaustion,  something  like  the  approaching  weariness  of  old  age.  Here 
nothing  seems  to  sprout  and  bloom." 

*  For  details  on  this  point  the  reader  may  profitably  oonsnlt  the 
works  of  Tappert  and  Muncker.  Sjrstematic  analyses  of  the  Leading 
Motives  of  the  Tetralogy  have  been  supplied  by  Wolzogen  and  Kobb^ 


.^kL 


THE  yiBBLUNG's  myo 


tion,  to  perceive  M  once  that  theii  domlaaiit  thought  Is  almyi 
dlsUain  and  hate  of  the  mim  who  posBesses,  almoat  or  entirely,  the 
quality  of  genius." 

The  "disdain  and  hate  of  genius"  displayed  by  the 
critical  erudites  at  Bayreuth  were  au  amazing  sight  to 
behold.  The  onslaughts  on  TVistan  and  the  Meigtersinger 
in  previous  years  seemed  mere  preliminary  skirmishes 
to  the  cannonade  of  hostile  articles  and  pamphlets  that 
commenced  at  Bayreuth  and  continued  for  years.  Many 
chapters  might  be  filled  with  curiosities  of  Nibelung  criti- 
cism; here  there  is  room  for  only  a  few  of  the  most 
amusing  specimens. 

Lot  us  begin  with  the  English  Archphilistine,  Bennett, 
in  whose  Letters  from  Bayreuth  we  are  told  among  other 
funny  things  that 

"we  have  in  Bheingold  the  contlnuoos  flow  of  (ormtess  music" 
which  "  alreams  along  the  mind,  so  to  speak,  without  passing  into 
it,"  and  "  offera  but  little  of  an  intelligible  character  to  lay  hold 
of."  This  music  "  has  no  meaning  by  itself."  The  dialogues  in 
Die  Walkareexe  "most  terribly  wearisome  and  painful  sounds,  ' 
which  excite  the  mind  "to  a  stale  of  intense  irritation."  Never- 
theless, there  are  things  in  this  music-drama  which  "  approach 
as  nearly  as  possible  to  that  which  we  commonly  know  as  music," 
Of  the  music  in  the  G'oUfTdiijnmemng  the  memory  "  retains  an 
impression  deflnite  only  with  regard  to  features  which  produced 
weariness."  As  a  music-drama,  this  work  "disappoints,  the  more 
keenly  because  of  the  magnificent  opportunities  supplied  by  its 
situations  for  really  sublime  musical  effect." ' 

Another  English  expert,  Mr.  H,  H.  Statham,  wrote, 
in  1876,  an  article  on  Wagner  for  the  Edinburgh  Re- 

'  For  a  caustic  and  amusing  rejoinder  to  Mr.  Bennett's  auKfrestloD  of 
hnw  mtich  better  Verdi  would  have  done  with  this  drama,  see  Hendrr- 
■on'i  I'reludts  and  Sludiei,  wbers  Sir  Arthur  Sullivan  alto  is  "sited 
up  "  M  a  Wagner  ciltie. 


mBtiLUNO  cnrtica  a^d  pttopBtiTa     869 

view,  which  he  reprinted  in  1892  in  a  book  entitled 
My  Thoughts  on  Music  and  Musicians.  One  of  these 
"  thoughts  "  is  that 

**  of  all  the  doggerel  ever  written  *  to  be  said  or  song '  on  the  stage, 
Wagner^s  verses  appear  to  be  among  the  worst.  Childish  jingle  and 
alliteration  take  the  place  of  poetic  thought.  ...  He  has  certainly 
prostituted  the  language  of  Schiller  and  Goethe.  But  it  would  be 
cruel  to  judge  such  trash  by  any  known  literary  standard.''  An- 
other of  Mr.  Statham's  "thoughts''  is  that  Wagner  was  **  the  most 
remarkable  charlatan  who  has  ever  appeared  in  art,"  the  character- 
istics of  charlatanism  being  **  brag  and  insincerity."  Still  another 
^*  thought " :  The  music  of  his  operas  **  is  entirely  devoid  of  con- 
tinuity of  musical  form."  And  a  few  more :  The  Leading  Motives 
have  nothing  **in  common  with  true  melodic  invention  and  expres- 
sion" ;  they  are  **  arbitrary  groups  of  notes  destitute  of  melodic 
expression  or  coherence."  The  Gotterd&mmerung  leaves  a  sense 
that  **  one  ought  to  be  ashamed  of  being  seen  listening  for  hours  to 
ugly  music  accompanying  an  absurd  and  puerile  stage  play." 

Mr.  Statham  is  not  only  "  thoughtful '' ;  he  also  has  a 
delicious  sense  of  humor,  for  he  suggests  that,  on  account 
of  the  presence  of  the  horse  Grane,  the  subtitle  of  the 
Nihelung's  Ring  should  be  "  Scenes  in  the  Life  of  a  Cab- 
Horse,^^  Mr.  Statham  doubtless  knew  that  nothing  kills 
so  surely  as  ridicule. 

Turning  now  to  the  best-known  German  critics,  we 
find  in  the  pages  of  Gustav  Engel  such  gems  as  the 
admission  that  the  song  of  the  Ehine-maidens  in  Khein- 
gold  is  ''  to  a  certain  degree  even  melodious  "  I  "  Of  Sieg- 
fried 2l  knowledge  of  the  text  and  score  had  led  one  to 
expect  little."  He  mercifully  admits  that  it  is  Wagner's 
misfortune  more  than  his  fault  that  he  had  to  resort  to 
something  more  artificial  and  difficult  than  the  simple 
subject  and  f onns  of  Don  Juan  I 


370  TB£  NiBELuyo-s  fcma 

Ludwig  Speidel  of  Vienna  found  that 

"in  the  WallcBre  the  only  tragic  tliln);  naa  »  tenor  witlioat  » 
voice."  "In  Siegfried  there  are  momenta  which  make  «  ne&r 
approach  to  real  mualc  ;  one  mar«  Htrp,  and  the  art  would  be 
reached ;  Wagner,  who  never  brlnga  forth  a  musical  idea  from  the 
depth  of  his  soul,  is  an  iugeaious  imitator  ol  externa]  eretitB  ;  bis 
music  in  the  foreat-scene  is  the  cteTerest  ape  of  reality."  As  a 
whole,  Siegfried  ia  a  '•  puppel-play."  Of  the  Jfibtlung  poem  la 
general,  Speidel  saya :  "  Coosider  the  bungling  atruciure  as  a  whole, 
the  vile  spirit  which  pervades  it,  the  we^cness  (  Verblatenheit)  of 
the  choractera,  —  and  asic  yourself  whether  an  artificial,  htundvr- 
ing  work  like  this  can  be  dignified  by  the  name  of  'poem.'  " 

It  is  to  the  critic  of  the  Neue  Freie  Presse,  however, 
that  we  must  go  for  the  moat  sparkling  Nibelang  epi- 
grams. Here,  as  always,  Dr.  Hanalick  ia  facile  princepa. 
He  tella  ua  that  the  choice  of  Hayreuth  waa  a  mistake, 
the  invisible  orchestra  an  eza^eration.  He  found  the 
Sheingold  poem  the  most  "insipid"  thing  he  had  ever 
.  come  across.  On  reading  this  poem  for  the  first  time 
one  becomes  "  seasick,  tossed  about  between  vexation  and 
laughter."     Of  the  Tetralogy  as  a  whole  he  says:  — 

"  Wagner's  latest  reform  is  not  an  enrichment,  a  development 
or  innovation  within  music,  in  the  sense  in  which  this  can  be  said 
of  the  art  of  Mozart,  Beethoven,  Weber,  Schumann  ;  it  is,  on  the 
contrary,  a  perversion  and  violation  of  the  fundamental  laws  of 
music,  3.  style  opposed  to  the  nature  of  human  hearing  and  senti- 
ment." "The  knife  haa  here  been  applied  not  to  antiquated  forms, 
bnt  to  the  living  root  of  dramatic  music." 

"What  torture  it  is  to  follow  this  musical  goose-march  four 
eveninga,  he  only  knows  who  has  experienced  it."  In  the  first  act 
of  the  Walkiire  the  redeeming  feature  is  the  love-tune.  The  second 
act  ia  "an  abysa  of  ennui,"  with  only  one  beautiful  melody,  which 
is  stolen  from  Marachner.  Siegfried's  forgingsongdoea  not  amount 
to  much.     "It  sounds  more  like  a  funeral  dirge  than  a  song  of 


NIBELUNO  CRITICS  AND  PROPHETS        871 

joy.  NaTve,  natural  merriment  is  beyond  Wagner's  ken.**  Sieg- 
fried's Death  March  is  not  a  product  of  inspiration,  but  of  **  inge- 
nious reflection." 

Hanslick  cordially  agrees  with  Ehlert  and  Lindau  that 
the  Bayreuth  event  had  ^'  no  national  -significance  " ;  and 
with  Naumann  that  it  is  ridiculous  to  speak  of  Wagner 
as  a  martyr,  a  man  ^'who  was  misunderstood  or  mal- 
treated by  his  contemporaries."  Even  the  scenic  won- 
ders and  innovations  introduced  in  the  Nibelun^B  Ring 
are  an  evil ''  which  will  bring  about  the  ruin  of  the  whole 
genus  opera."    Thus  it  goes  on  merrily,  page  after  pa^e. 

The  comedy  grows  still  funnier  when  we  pass  on  to 
the  utterances  of  Louis  Ehlert,  whom  Hanslick  once  more 
cites  as  ^'an  eloquent  and  intelligent  champion  of  Wag- 
ner." We  saw  in  the  chapter  on  Tristan  what  sort  of  a 
"champion"  Ehlert  was;  here  are  a  few  of  his  "elo- 
quent "  pleadings  in  behalf  of  the  NvMun^B  Ring.  He 
accuses  Wagner  of  being  guilty  of 

**  dramatic  velleities  which  we  would  find  unpardonable  even  in 
Birch-Pfeiffer."  Wotan  is  always  **  tiresome,"  Mime  **  repulsive  " 
without  being  at  all  comic.  Indeed,  **  Wagner  seems  to  be  utterly 
unable  to  distinguish  between  the  comic  and  the  tiresome."  In 
the  O^tUrd&mmerung  drama  **the  whole  axis  is  misplaced"; 
Brtinnhilde  alone  has  our  sympathy,  and  **  love  is  degraded  to  a 
delirium."  Wagnerism  will  last  **  until  a  spontaneous  operatic 
poet  will  put  an  end  to  this  protean  combination  of  arts."  And 
six  years  later  (1882)  Ehlert  wrote  of  the  Nibelung  dramas  that 
*^they  have  made  their  journey  through  the  world  and  have  not 
stood  the  test  .  .  .  A  pity  for  all  the  power  which  Wagner  wasted 
on  the  greatest  of  his  works,  and  it  is  to  be  sincerely  hoped  that  he 
may  never  discover  how  impossible  it  is  for  us  to  still  enjoy  any- 
thing but  fragments  of  it." 

Extraordinary  "championship/'  n'e^  oe  pasf     But 


'"  •'  "■"6'11'S,  and  iioveli 
■»«.  on  hearins  so  .,,1,1 
•''""S  for  the  a„.  Z 
dfrrade  lia,eif  i„  a, 

^.  ^°1""^ ''*•'<" 

J^^i  tti.  oW„feh  ^ 

^^.""•"•'"'"dmtsof 
i^topun,.    ret,afto,.,; 

'■"■      Wa.  that  the  case  , 

fiSn^' °    the.r  „i,iei,„, 

™  teen  more  that 


NIBSLUNO  CRITICS  AlfD  PB0PHST8        373 

RJieingM,  but  the  doubly-long  OWerd&mmerung,  twice 
in  one  day;  and  I  know  of  others  who  were  like  me. 
But  of  course  people  differ  in  their  powers  of  mental 
endurance,  and  it  would  be  cruel  to  chide  the  weak- 
minded  for  what  is  rather  their  misfortune  than  their 
fault.  There  was  a  time  when  a  half-hour  symphony 
was  considered  too  great  a  strain  on  the  hearers'  minds, 
wherefore  vocal  solos  were  interspersed  between  the 
movements. 

It  is  in  their  rdle  of  Prophets,  however,  that  the  Bay- 
reuth  critics  cut  the  funniest  capers.  Lindan  prophe- 
sied that  the  fate  of  the  Nibelung'a  Ring  would  be  this, 
that  some  day  a  merry  editor  would  come  along  and  cut 
down  the  four  dramas  so  unmercifully  that  only  one 
would  be  left,  which  would  resemble  the  old-fashioned 
operas  as  one  %gg  resembles  another.  ''The  Bayreuth 
undertaking  is  doomed, "  wrote  Albert  Wolff ;  "  to-morrow 
this  Bayreuth  theatre  will  probably  be  a  circus,  or  a 
dance-hall,  or  a  national  shooting-gallery."  Otto  Gum- 
precht  expressed  his  belief  that  the  OdUerddmmerung 
was  "the  only  part  of  the  Trilogy  which  the  German 
theatres  would  desire  to  acquire."  The  sceptical  Hans- 
lick  points  out  with  the  emphasis  of  italics  that  the 
Bayreuth  success  proves  nothing  about  the  value  and 
vitality  of  the  Nihdung^s  Ring. 

**  For  that  it  is  necessary  that  Bayreuth  should  now  travel  to 
Europe  after  Europe  has  been  at  Bayreuth.  Once  the  moontafai 
came  to  the  prophet;  now  the  prophet  will  leave  to  go  to  the 
mountain.'* 

With  the  same  disbelief  in  the  future  of  Wagner's 
Bayreuth  work  and  the  same  amusing  pomponsness  of 
critical  vanity,  Ehlert  exclaims :  — 


374  TBE  xissLUNcra  ama 

"1b  it  conceivable  that  sncb  an  accumulation  o[  means  should 
be  repeated,  or — more  improbable  atill — even  become  a  yearlj 

Time  has  made  sad  havoc  with  these  prophecies.  The 
Nibelung's  Ring,  which  the  critics  declared  to  be  impossi- 
ble oTitaide  of  Bayreuth,  and  not  likely  to  be  repeated 
even  there,  has  travelled  all  over  Europe,  and  won  tre- 
mendous triumphs  even  in  America.  During  the  first 
fifteen  years  following  the  Festival  of  1876  the  four  Ain^ 
dramas  were  given  358+823+322+314=1817  times  in 
German  cities,  and  to-day  there  is  hardly  even  a  second 
or  third  class  city  which  does  not  have  its  annual  per- 
formances of  the  Ring;  nor  is  any  one  now  afraid  of  it 
on  account  of  its  being  "  interminable  —  like  all  rings," 
818  von  Miris  puts  it  in  the  Fliegmde  Siattar: — 

"  Und  dasB  man  du  Feslspid 
An  NibeluDgenring  nennt, 

Dbs  passt  ganz  vortrefllich, 
Denu  a'  Ring  hat  koan  Ead." 

And  as  regards  the  "mountain  going"  more  than  once 
to  the  prophet  —  in  1879  Hanslick  chuckled  gleefully,  in 
reviewing  the  Bayreuth  literature,  because  "the  future 
of  the  Bayreuth  Festivals  appears  very  doubtful  to  oH 
our  authorities,"  "It  must  be  very  depressing  to  the 
Wagnerites,"  he  adds,  that  "three  years  have  now 
elapsed  without  a  repetition  of  the  Festival  having  been 
risked."  Very  depressing  indeed;  it  made  Wagner  very 
unhappy;  and  was  not  that  cause  for  national  German 
congratulation?  But  the  world  moved.  In  1882  came 
the  Parsifal  Festival  at  Bayreuth.  Other  festivals  fol- 
lowed  in   1883,  1884,  1886,  1888,  1889,  1891,  1892,— 


JflSMLUNO  CBinCB  AJfD  PBOPHITS 


8T5 


with  ever-increasing  succeaa,  nntil,  in  1891,  the  seatB  for 
all  the  twenty  performances  were  sold  out  Bevend  weeks 
in  adrance,  and  sums  of  twenty  dollan  and  more  were 
eagerly  paid  for  five-dollar  tickets;  while  the  leceipts 
must  have  been  9150,000.      "Very  depieasing  to  the 


THE  PARSIFAL  PERIOD 

FINANCIAL  EE8TJLT   OF  THE  KIBELmiG   FZSTIVAI. 

Was  Wagner  satisfied  with  the  general  result  of  the 
first  Festival';*  Yes  and  no.  "My  ideal  was  not  at- 
tained," he  said  to  his  frienda  in  a  speech  delivered  at 
Bajreuth  a  year  after  the  Festival;  yet,  as  he  wrote  on 
the  margin  of  a  photograph  which  he  gave  to  one  of  the 
ptime-moTers  of  the  Festiral : 

"  0  Freund  H«ckel 
Eb  war  doch  guti " 

He  could  bask  in  the  consciousness  of  having  succeeded 
in  a  mammoth  enterprise,  the  realization  of  which  even  so 
dauntless  a  general  as  Emperor  William  had  considered 
improbable.  He  had  had  his  own  theatre,  all  the  details 
of  which  were  in  accord  with  his  designs,  and  in  which 
his  art-ideal  was  more  clearly  presented  than  it  could 
have  been  in  any  theatre  in  the  world.  He  had  been 
absolute  monarch  of  all  he  surveyed,  with  no  stubborn 
and  ignorant  conductor  or  singers  to  harass  him  as  in 
Paris  when  Tannhtiuser  was  given  and  elsewhere.  The 
singers  and  players  had  been  of  his  own  choosing,  and 
the  achievements  of  Materna,  Niemann,  VogI,  Hill,  Siehr, 
Betz,  Lehmann,  and  Schlosser  had  been  among  the  most 
memorable  in  the  history  of  dramatic  song.  On  the 
876 


FINANCIAL  RESULT  OF  THE  FESTIVAL     877 

other  hand,  we  who  have  since  heard  Alvary  or  Yc^l  know 
how  far  from  an  ideal  vocalist  and  hero  the  Bayrenth 
Siegfried  was ;  and  the  scenic  arrangements,  thanks  to  the 
insufficiency  of  funds,  were  not  perfect  in  all  details. 
Wagner  affected  to  despise  the  press,  bat  he  was  sensi- 
tive to  criticism,  and  the  shameful  abuse  of  his  great 
work  in  the  leading  organs  of  public  opinion  must  have 
cost  him  many  a  moment  of  anguish  and  indignation, 
and  deepened  his  pessimism. 

But  the  chief  ground  for  disappointment  was  the 
financial  result  of  the  Festival — a  large  deficit^  for 
which,  as  Heckel  truly  remarks,  the  press  was  primarily 
responsible,  since  it  had  for  years  done  everything  in  its 
power  to  prevent  the  Germans  from  participating  in  the 
Festival,  by  decrying  it  in  advance  as  a  fraud  and  a 
humbug.  The  amount  of  this  deficit  was  about  $37,500, 
and  Wagner  now  had  leisure  to  reflect  on  the  &u^  that, 
as  he  had  realized  a  few  months  before  the  Festival,  it 
was  a  reckless  deed  to  proceed  with  it  when  of  the  1300 
subscription  tickets  needed  to  cover  all  expenses,  less 
than  one-half  had  been  taken.  A  few  weeks  after  the 
Festival  he  made  a  trip  to  Italy,  to  recover  from  the 
exhaustion  brought  on  him  by  months  of  incessant  work 
and  worry.  For  the  first  time  he  extended  his  journey 
as  far  south  as  Rome  and  Naples.  But  even  here  the 
burden  of  that  deficit  weighed  on  his  mind.  In  Novem- 
ber he  sent  a  circular  to  the  patrons  of  the  Festival,  ask- 
ing for  assistance.  He  supposed  that  these  patrons  had 
made  his  cause  their  own  and  would  look  upon  them- 
selves as  guarantors.  But  he  found  that  there  had  been 
'4n  reality  no  patrons  at  all,  but  only  spectators  on  vexy 
expensive  seats/'    A  wealthy  aristocrat  in  Silesia  proved 


878  TBE  PABSIFAL  PERIOD 

an  exception,  and  "Herr  Pliiddemann's  aunt  in  Koblenz 
Bent  twenty  five  dollars";  thus  the  burden  of  the  deficit 
rested  on  Wagner's  own  head.  He  had  compoBed  and 
brought  before  hia  contemporaries  an  immortal  work  of 
art;  now  he  was  called  upon  to  pay  for  it  too,  after 
having  been  scolded  by  the  preaa  for  not  having  thanked 
these  contemporaries  for  going  to  hear  it. 

Various  plana  for  covering  the  deficit,  and  promoting 
the  Bayreuth  cause,  came  under  his  consideration  on  his 
return  to  Bayreuth  ia  December.  He  offered  the  Bay- 
reuth  Theatre  to  the  Munich  authorities  as  a  jStaie  or 
branch  of  their  opera-house,  which  offer  was  refused. 
He  applied  once  more  to  Parliament.  Inasmuch  as  the 
government  paid  large  sums  every  year  to  conservatories 
which  did  nothing  for  national  art,  why  should  not  a 
real  dramatic  school  like  the  Bayreuth  Theatre  receive 
support?  The  sum  of  825,000  a  year  would  be  sufficient. 
But  the  government  officials  had  no  ears  for  such  a 
scheme:  "an  influential  member  of  Parliament  assured 
me  that  neither  he  nor  any  of  hia  colleagues  had  the 
remotest  conception  of  what  I  wanted  "  (referring  to  a 
project  for  a  dramatic  high  school,  to  which  I  shall 
return  presently). 

TBE  LONDON  FESTIVAL 

In  the  meantime,  he  had  been  obliged  to  borrow  $8000, 
at  five  per  cent  interest,  in  order  to  cover  the  most  urgent 
part  of  the  deficit.  A  project  to  give  a  series  of  concerts 
in  London,  originated  by  Wilhelmj,  did  not  at  first 
appeal  to  him.  He  had  already  commenced  the  Parsifal 
poem,  and  was  anxious  to  save  his  energies  for  that;  he 
had,  moreover,  always  disliked  having  anything  to  do 


THE  LONDON  FESTIVAL  879 

with  concert  productions  of  selections  from  his  stage 
works.  But  necessity  once  more  persuaded  him  to  vio- 
late his  convictions.  The  London  offer  was  accepted. 
Several  of  the  Bayreuth  singers,  including  Matema,  Hill, 
Sehlosser,  Unger,  Grtin,  were  engaged,  and  a  series  of 
six  Wagner  concerts  announced  at  the  Albert  Hall  for 
the  fortnight  from  May  7  to  19,  1877.  There  was  an 
orchestra  of  170,  and  the  first  half  of  each  programme 
was  conducted  by  Wagner,  the  second  by  Hans  Bichter. 

**  Wagner  conducted  part  of  the  performances  on  each  occasion, 
and  daring  the  rest  of  the  concert  sat  in  the  front  row  of  the  or- 
chestra, following  the  music  with  obvioos  interestp  and  himself  the 
observed  of  all  observers.  As  a  conductor  he  scarcely  did  himself 
justice  on  this  occasion." 

There  had  been  no  time  to  establish  a  perfect  sym- 
pathy between  the  leader  and  the  men,  and 

**  Wagner  in  consequence  ibade  the  orchestra  nervous,  and  the 
musicians  greatly  preferred  Hans  Richter  to  him,  showing  that 
preference  with  a  demonstrativeness  which  was  probably  not  very 
agreeable  to  the  most  modest  of  men  and  greatest  of  conductors.'*  ^ 

The  hopes  that  these  concerts  would  wipe  out  the 
Bayreuth  deficit  were  doomed  to  failure.  Although  the 
audiences  were  large,  the  expenses  were  so  enormous  that 
the  receipts  were  swamped.  There  were  as  many  as 
nineteen  rehearsals;  for  Wagner,  as  usual,  made  the 
artistic  success  of  the  undertaking  the  prime  considera- 
tion; and  nineteen  rehearsals  of  an  orchestra  of  170 
amount  to  a  formidable  figure.  Mr.  Dannreuther,  at 
whose  house  Wagner  resided,  states  that "  the  attendance, 
though  always  large,  was  nothing  like  what  had  been 

^  Huefler,  Haff  a  Ceniury  of  Music  in  England,  p.  T3  nq. 


380  THE  PARSIFAL   PERIOD 

anticipated;  the  restilt  of  the  six  concerts,  a  difficulty 
in  making  both  ends  meet."  Matters  were  somewhat 
amended  by  two  supplementary  concerts  given  on  May 
28,  29,  at  reduced  prices,  and  with  programmes  contain- 
ing only  the  most  popular  pieces.     Hueffer  relates  that 

'■A  very  large  sam  had  been  promised  to  Witgner  for  his  per- 
Bonftl  services  in  the  matter,  but  when  he  heard  that  things  were 
not  going  well,  lie  declared  himself  willing  to  forego  all  remnneiA- 
tion,  with  that  generoHity  which,  if  on  oocaaion  he  expected  from 
his  friends,  he  was  not  lotb  to  exercise  himself.  Tbis  Mesan. 
Hodge  1  Essex,  who  behaved  throughout  in  a  str^htlorward  and 
admirable  manner,  refused  to  accept.,  and  a  sum  of  £700  wa«  even- 
tually remitted  to  Bayreuth.  But  this  Wagner  did  not  expect  Then 
he  left  London^  and  the  last  words  he  uttered  standing  at  the  car- 
riage window  im  liie  train  slfamod  trtit  of  Victoria  Station  were: 
■  All  is  lost  except  honor.' " 

When  the  disastrous  result  of  the  Albert  Hall  Festival 
became  known,  Hueffer  continues, — 

"  a  number  of  men  determined  to  wipe  off  the  stain  on  the  English 
artistic  character,  and  a  subscription  was  opened,  without  Wag- 
ner's knowledge,  and  soon  reached  the  sum  of  £561,  which  was 
duly  Bent  to  Waguer.  But  once  again  he  gave  an  instance  of  that 
contempt  for  money  which  be  invariably  showed  when  be  had  any 
money  to  contemn.  He  had  made  arrangements  that  the  royalties 
to  come  from  the  peiformances  of  The  Ring  at  Munich  should  be 
set  aside  to  cover  the  debt  of  the  Bayreuth  Theatre,  and  the  sum 
collected  in  England  was  accordingly  returned  to  the  sutiscribetB, 
one  of  whom  wrote  in  his  surprise ,  '  Strange  things  happen  in  the 
realm  of  music.'" 

This  third  and  last  visit  to  London  lasted  from  April 
30  to  June  4.  During  this  time  he  was  much  lionized 
and  dined,  especially  by  the  various  German  clubs. 
He  also  went  to  Windsor,  by  special  invitation  of  the 


TEE  LONDON  FESTIVAL  881 

Queen^  with  whom  he  had  a  long  audience.  The  Queen 
had  been  prevented  from  attending  the  concerts,  but  the 
Prince  of  Wales,  the  Duke  of  Edinburgh,  and  other  mem- 
bers of  the  royal  family  had  been  present.  The  composer 
also  liked  to  mix  in  the  society  of  English  people,  and 
Hueffer  tells  of  an  interesting  evening  at  Mr.  Dann- 
reuther'S;  when  he  was  the  life  and  soul  of  a  distin- 
guished gathering,  including  6.  H.  Lewes  and  his  wife, 
George  Eliot,  who  on  this  occasion  remarked  to  Madame 
Wagner,  with  her  usual  straightforwardness:  '^Your 
husband  does  not  like  Jews;  my  husband  is  a  Jew.'^ 

One  more  interesting  incident  of  this  London  episode 
must  be  referred  to  here,  as  it  throws  a  bright  light  on 
Wagner's  personality.  It  is  the  amusing  account  given 
by  Mr.  Hubert  Herkomer  {Portfolio  1880)  of  how  he 
painted  his  famous  portrait  for  the  German  Athenseum 
Club:  — 

^*  The  whole  business  of  the  portrait  was  disagreeable  to  him, 
but  I  was  at  least  allowed  free  admission  to  his  abode  [12  Orme 
Square]  f  so  this  *  seeing,^  instead  of  *  sittings^  went  on  for  nearly 
a  month ;  my  patience  was  tried  sorely  and  my  independence  got 
chafed.  But  I  was  wrought  up  to  a  curious  pitch  of  excitement 
during  this  training,  for  I  was  affected  by  the  personal  power  of 
the  man  over  those  around  him,  by  the  magic  of  his  music,  and  by 
the  face  of  this  poet-musician,  which,  when  stirred  by  emotion, 
was  a  grand  reflection  of  his  work. 

^*  Now  I  doubt  whether  any  man,  since  Napoleon  I.,  has  been 
known  to  exercise  such  powers  of  fascination  over  his  admirers  as 
Richard  Wagner  does  daily,  and  will  do  to  the  termination  of  his 
physical  life.  You  lose  your  identity  when  in  his  presence ;  you 
are  sadly  inclined  to  forget  that  there  is  something  else  in  the  world 
besides  Wagner  and  his  music.  You  are  under  an  influence  that  sets 
every  nerve  at  its  highest  key.  He  has  been  able  to  make  people 
frantic  with  enthusiasm.  .  .  . 


382  TBE  PARSIFAL  PERIOD 

"  Wagner  was  la  m;  mind  day  anil  night,  —  a  conslant  vision 
Ibat  barred  out  ever;  otber  tbouglit,  willing  or  unwilling,  — and  It 
was  in  a  moment  of  anger  arising  from  this  constant  putting  off  of 
tbe  sittingB,  that  I  determined  to  tr;  wliat  my  uieniorf  could  (Ur- 
□ish,  and,  with  bia  face  only  inwardly  vteibie  to  me,  1  set  to  work. 
I  worlied  all  day,  and  it  grew,  1  know  not  iiow.  The  neit  day  I 
worked  still  harder  and  more  excitedly,  and  Sniahed  the  portrait. 
On  the  third  day  I  tODk  it  to  W^ner. 

"  rp  to  that  time  he  hail  but  siiflcred  me  to  be  near  him,  paying 
lillle  more  attention  to  me  than  W  an  animal,  but  from  the  moment 
tliat  he  saw  hia  portr^t  his  demeanor  changed,  and  never  did  a 
man  show  admiration  more  tniiy  and  heartily  than  did  Richard 
Wagner  on  this  occasion,  and  ever  since,  to  me.  How  I  had  done 
it  puzzled  him.  '  You  use  witchcraft,'  be  said  to  me.  So  Uien  be 
wiw  ready  to  sit  lo  me,  and  1  was  inl^'nsely  eager,  not  to  aay  nervoua, 
to  compare  my  iinpressional  portrait  wiUi  the  original  subject." 

PLANS   FOB  THE  FUTTJRB 
Leaving  London  on  June  4,  Wagner  visited  Ems, 

Heidelberg,  Triebschen,  and  other  places,  before  re- 
turning to  Bayreuth,  about  the  end  of  July.  The  Heidel- 
berg visit  is  memorable  because  here,  for  the  first  time 
in  Germany  (on  July  8),  he  read  his  Parsifal  poem  to  a 
circle  of  friends  in  the  picturesquely  situated  Schloss 
hotel  of  which  Mark  Twain  has  told  Americana  so  much. 
The  $3500  which  the  London  Festival  had  netted  him  did 
little  to  diminish  the  deficit  of  $37,500.  ^Vhile  that 
remained,  it  was  useless  to  think  of  repeating  the  Festi- 
val. Practical  friends  were  indeed  of  opinion  that  a 
second  Festival  would  be  profitable;  for  the  theatre  waa 
now  built  and  the  scenery  on  hand,  ao  that  the  expenses 
would  be  greatly  reduced,  while  tickets  could  be  sold  at 
a  much  lower  rate  than  tbe  $75  asked  for  a  cycle  of 
four  evenings  in  1876.     But  apart  from  tbe  fact  that 


PLANS  FOB  THE  FUTXTRE  388 

this  possible  financial  success  of  a  second  Festival  was 
a  mere  gaess,  there  were  other  serious  impediments. 
It  would  have  been  difficult  once  more  to  obtain  from 
unwilling  Intendants  permission  for  their  singers  and 
players  to  spend  a  whole  summer  at  Bayreuth;  and  the 
Meister,  besides,  had  had,  as  he  says,  '^personal  expe- 
riences "  which  made  him  undesirous  to  play  the  rdle  of 
impresario  again.  So  the  plan  of  repeating  the  Ring  at 
once  was  abandoned  in  favor  of  a  bigger  scheme,  which 
seemed  of  such  importance  to  its  author  that  he  invited 
representatives  of  the  Wagner  Societies  to  meet  him  at 
Bayreuth  on  September  15.  Many  came,  and  the  meet- 
ing was  held  on  the  stage  of  the  Festival  Theatre.  Before 
communicating  his  plans  for  the  future,  the  Meister 
spoke  for  half  an  hour  on  the  financial  and  other  aspects 
of  the  Festival,  giving  many  valuable  bits  of  information 
which  have  been  utilized  in  the  preceding  pages  of  this 
biography.* 

The  plan  itself  was  to  make  the  Bayreuth  Theatre  a 
Dramatic  High  School  where  singers,  players,  and  con- 
ductors could  learn  to  interpret  not  only  the  works  of 
Wagner,  but  of  the  classical  masters  in  a  more  correct 

1  Of  thif  yalnable  speech  there  exists,  fortimstely,  a  stenographio 
report.  Wagner  had  expressly  desired  that  a  stenographer  should  be 
employed,  but  as  it  seemed  desirable  to  exclude  non-members,  Burgo- 
master Franz  Muncker  himself  undertook  the  task.  It  was  not  an  easy 
one ;  for,  as  he  explains  in  his  introductory  remarks  (Kiirschner's  Way^ 
ner  Jahrhuch,  1886, 197-8),  the  speaker  not  ^y  continued  half  an  hour 
without  interruption,  but  he  spoke,  as  usual,  very  rapidly,  in  a  chatty, 
conyersational  manner,  and  his  thoughts  were  constantly  running  away 
with  his  words;  so  that  sentences  were  abbreriated,  parts  of  tliam 
"  swallowed,"  and  connecting  links  omitted,  or  crowded  aside  by  a  imw 
thought  that  suddenly  presented  itself.  While  this  gave  the  speedi  a 
fragmentary  character,  it  made  it  all  the  more  yiyid  and  forceful,  for 
it  seemed  like  a  direct  communication  of  thoughts  too  eager  and  impa- 
tient to  clothe  tbemaelvea  in  orderly  arrays  of  academic  word^. 


384  THE  PARSIFAL  PERIOD 

style  than  prevailed  "at  the  German  opera-houses.  Wag- 
ner declared  himself  willing  to  attend  the  exercises  at 
leaat  three  times  a  week.  All  instruction  would  be 
gratis,  hut  no  pupils,  of  course,  would  be  accepted  except 
such  as  had  already  acquired  technical  proficiency,  so 
that  all  the  lessona  could  be  devoted  to  the  art  of  inter- 
pretation. The  first  year,  1878,  was  to  be  given  up  to 
classical  chamber  music,  symphonies,  and  vocal  art;  in 
1879  there  would  be  preliminary  rehearsals  of  the  Flying 
Dutchman,  Tannhauwr,  and  Lohengrin,  which  operas 
would  be  performed  in  1880,  to  be  followed  in  1881,  by 
Tristan  and  Mettterginger,  and  in  1882,  b^  a  repetition  of 
the  Nibelung's  Ring;  while  1883  was  to  see  the  first  per- 
formance of  Par*t/al.'  For  the  porpoee  of  carrying  oat 
this  six  years'  Festival  plan  a  central  Bayrenth  Society 
cf  Patrons  was  formed,  of  which  the  former  independent 
Wagner  Societies  became  branches,  and  each  member 
pledged  himself  to  pay  fifteen  marks  a  year  to  cover 
expenses  and  secure  funds  in  advance, 

What  was  the  result  of  all  these  efforts?  The  Dra- 
matic High  School  was  to  be  opened  on  Jan.  1,  1878, 
hut,  according  to  Hans  von  Wolzogen,  the  number  of 
candidates  who  sent  in  their  names  "could  be  counted 
on  the  fingers  of  one  hand,"  so  that  Wagner  was  com- 
pelled to  [Kistpone  his  plan  to  "more  favorable  times." 
And  why  should  young  German  singers,  players,  and 
conductors  have  come  to  learn  of  a  man  whom  the  lead- 
ing newspapers  continued  to  denounce  as  a  humbug  and 
an  enemy  of  all  good  music?  Why  should  the  Germans, 
as  a  nation,  have  given  him  a  chance  to  sliow,  before  he 
died,  how  his  operas  should  be  inter])reted?  Preposter- 
1  Fo(  details,  bm  Vol.  X.  pp.  17-26. 


BATBEUTHBR  BLATTER  — LAST  ESSAYS    385 

ous  idea!  Did  Beethoven,  Mozart^  ht  Weber  hare  soeh 
a  chance?  No;  why,  then,  should  he  hare  it,  the  pre- 
sumptuous old  charlatan? 


BAYBKUTUEB  BLATTER  —  LA8T  S88ATB 

All  his  life  Wagner  had  longed  to  show  by  practical 
example  how  his  operas  should  be  interpreted.    Three 
times  only  had  he  been  able  to  do  so^  — at  Dresden,  at 
Munich,  and  at  Bayreuth.     In  the  first-named  cities  his 
activity  was  temporary;   in  Bayreuth  he  had  hoped  to 
make  it  permanent,  but  his  hopes  were  dashed  against 
the  walls  of  national  indifference.     Nothing  was  left 
but  to  resort  once  more  to  the  critical  pen,  much  as  be 
would  have  preferred  to  devote  all  his  time  to  composi- 
tion and  performance.     As  a  sort  of  a  substitute  for  the 
impossible  High  School,  a  periodical  was  founded,  with 
the  name  of  Bayreuther  EldUery  which  became  the  organ 
of  commimication  to  the  Wagner  Societies.     This  publi- 
cation has  survived  its  founder.     In  its  volumes  one 
may  find  a  great  deal  of  verbose  twaddle,  a  great  many 
essays  as  soporific  as  opium,   written  by  well-mean- 
ing but  witless  enthusiasts  and  would-be  philosophers. 
There  are  also  not  a  few  articles  and  doeoments  of 
permanent  aesthetic  and  historic  interest.     But  what 
gives  the  Bayreulher  BUUter  historic  significance  is  the 
fact  that  in  its  pages  first  appeared   almost  all  the 
essays  which  Wagner  wrote  in  the  last  six  years  of  his 
life,  and  which  now  make  up  the  greater  part  of  Volume 
X.  of  his  Collected  Works.     Among  these  are  some  of 
his  very  best  papers  in  point  of  style  as  of  thought. 
The  least  valuable  of  them  are  those  which  deal  with 
political,  social,  and  philosophical  topics,  entitled  Wkax 


38t5  THE  PARSIFAL  PERIOD 

ia  Oermanf  and  Betigion  and  Arl.  More  readable  ate 
Modem,  Public  and  Popularity,  The  Public  in  Tinie  and 
Space.  In  these,  as  in  the  two  first  named,  he  makes 
out  a  thoroughly  bad  case  for  the  world  we  live  in, 
especially  for  Germany,  where  everything  is  going  to  the 
dogs,  thanks  largely  to  Semitic  aggressions.  Much  in 
these  papers  is  simply  an  echo  of  Schopenhauer's  pessi- 
mism, intensified  by  the  writer's  personal  disappoint- 
ments in  his  Bayreuth  Festival  schemes, 

A  foretaste  of  what  the  four-volume  autobiography 
will  be,  ia  given  by  three  important  suggestive  essays, — 
A  Retronpecl  ontlie  Stage-Hay-FestivtU  of  1S7G,  The  Stage- 
Consecration- May  in  Bayreuth  1882,  and  AccoutU  of  the 
Performance  of  a  Youthful  Work  (the  first  symphony). 
Hardly  li^ss  valuable  are  three  other  essays — On  com- 
posing Poetry  and  Music,  On  the  Composing  of  Operatic 
Poetry  and  Music  in  Particular,  and  On  the  Applioation  of 
Music  to  the  Drama.  These  papers  no  admirer  of  their 
author  should  fail  to  read.  They  contain  some  of  the 
most  incisive  criticisms  on  his  own  and  otiier  mnsio, 
written  in  a  more  concrete  and  lucid  style  than  his  earlier 
theoretical  works.  Considerations  of  space  permit  me 
to  refer  to  three  suggestive  points  only :  the  remarks  on 
poetic  and  melodic  accents  (203-;iI7)  with  some  exquisite 
sarca.sm  on  "melody";  the  extremely  suggestive  pages 
(242-250)  in  which  he  explains  why  a  dramatist  may 
and  should  modulate  more  freely  than  a  symphonist 
(instructive  illustrations  are  added);  and  the  timely 
warning  to  ambitious  and  reckless  young  composers  con- 
tained in  this  passage :  — 

"It  seemH  that  already  a  very  large  proportion  of  the  public 
finds  many  ihinga,  yes,  almost  everything,  ia  my  dramatic  mnaic 


ViriSXCTION  AND  VBGXTABIANISM         387 

thoroughly  natural,  and  accordingly  pleasing,  while  the  *  professors ' 
are  still  crying  murder  over  it.  If  these  gentlemen  were  to  assign 
to  me  one  of  their  holy  chairs,  they  would  perhaps  be  stUl  more 
astounded  on  seeing  what  caution  and  moderation,  especially  In 
harmonic  eftects,  I  would  counsel  their  pupils,  to  whom  I  would 
submit  as  first  rule  that  they  should  never  leave  a  key  as  long  as 
what  they  have  to  say  can  be  said  in  it.'* 

Eeference  may  as  well  be  made  here  to  an  additional 
volume  which  appeared  two  years  after  Wagner's  death. 
It  is  entitled  Entwilrfe^  Gfedanketiy  Fragmente  (Concepts, 
Though ts,  and  Fragments),  and  contains  the  chips  from 
his  workshop  —  aphorisms  on  the  various  subjects  that 
interested  him:  on  art,  religion,  philosophy;  on  style, 
modulation,  composers,  and  poets,  critics,  genius;  pro- 
grammes to  Tristauy  Meistersinger,  and  Parsifai  preludes, 
etc. 

YIVISIBCTION  AND  YEOETABIANISM 

In  August,  1879,  the  Society  for  the  Prevention  of 
Cruelty  to  Animals  in  Dresden  received  a  note  from 
Eichard  Wagner,  who  expressed  his  desire  to  assist  it  to 
the  utmost  extent  of  his  powers.  This  led  to  a  corre- 
spondence with  Ernst  von  Weber,  whose  illustrated 
pamphlet,  The  Torture-Chambers  of  Science^  had,  io 
1878,  started  the  agitation  against  cruel  physiological 
experiments  on  living  animals.  In  his  second  letter 
Wagner  forwarded  one  hundred  marks,  with  the  promise 
of  a  like  sum  every  three  months  for  the  funds. 

''  My  son/*  he  says  in  this  letter,  **  may  learn  and  become  what- 
ever he  pleases ;  one  thing  only  I  shall  urge  him  to  do ;  namely,  to 
learn  enough  of  surgery  to  be  able  to  render  first  avlstjuice  to  men 
or  animals,  and  also,  to  steel  himself — somewhat  more  than  his 
father — against  the  sight  of  physical  suffering.^ 


»» 


1  led  Weber  to  ask        1 

oH-jjf   fin   VJvia»*^fi«n 


888  THE  FAB81FAL  PEBIOD 

Further  remarks  followed,  which  I 
him  to  expand  them  into  a  public  letter  on  Vivisection, 
in  the  hope  of  interesting  hia  numerous  admirers  in 
the  movement.  The  request  was  followed.  The  Public 
Letter  appeared,  first  as  a  supplement  to  the  Bayreuther 
Blatter,  then  as  a  pamphlet  of  which  several  thousand 
copies  were  printed,  some  for  gratuitous  distribution, 
others  for  sale  for  the  benefit  of  the  Society ;  the  expenses 
of  printing  being  borne  by  the  writer  himself.  In  this 
essay,  aa  usual,  Wagner  is  nothing  if  not  radical.  He 
denies  that  experiments  in  vivisection  lead  to  any  other 
result  than  the  gratification  of  the  "vanity  and  stupid 
curiosity "  of  scientific  virtuosi ;  yet  the  vlUitJi  of  these 
tortures  is  always  —  and  this  is  what  particularly  angers 
him  — put  forward  aa  a  sufficient  escuse  for  the  cruelties 
inf  icted  in  the  name  of  science.  Now,  he  has  such  a 
high  opinion  of  the  unselfishness  of  animals  that  he 
believes  that  whereas  man  uses  his  reason  chiefly  to  be 
"  more  animal  than  any  animal"  (as  Mephistopheles  puts 
it),  an  animal  "would  willingly  allow  itself  to  be  tor- 
tured for  its  master  if  it  could  be  made  clear  to  its  intel- 
lect that  the  weal  of  its  human  friend  was  involved," 
But  this  gives  us  no  right  to  torture  them  for  our  selfish 
purposes.  On  the  contrary,  if  our  civilization  were  not 
such  a  wretched  farce,  religion  and  the  state  would  recog- 
nize and  assert  the  legal  right  of  animals  to  the  benefits  of 
the  fundamental  law  of  morality,  which  is  compassion,  or 
sympathy  with  the  sufferings  of  other  beings.  But  no 
one  thinks  of  this;  if  it  can  be  proved  that  it  is  vief%d  to 
%a  to  torture  animals,  the  law  protects  the  tormentors.' 

>  The  Pn1)Uc  Letter  which  develops  these  ideas  ia  rapriDted  la  Vol.  X. 
HlB  twelve  private  lettera  to  Ernst  von  Weber  on  tbls  topic  hkva 
appeared  In  n  special  brochure  (DreadsD,  1SS3). 


THE  TRAVELLING  WAONEB  THEATRE      889 

Logically  considered,  such  love  of  animals  must  lead 
to  vegetarianism,  and  Wagner  did  not  shrink  from  his 
conclusion  in  theory,  at  any  rate.  In  his  essay  on  ReHg- 
ion  and  Art  (X.  311)  he  shows  a  disposition  to  trace  the 
"  degeneration "  of  the  human  race  to  its  having  fallen 
from  grace  by  eating  flesh,  and  makes  the  amusing  sug- 
gestion that  if  in  a  northern  climate  a  meat-diet  be 
considered  necessary,  there  are  parts  of  the  globe  — 
South  America  and  South  Africa  —  large  enough  to  sus- 
tain the  world's  flesh-eating  population  on  a  vegetarian 
basis!  Some  of  the  foolish  Wagnerites,  who  took  every 
utterance  of  the  Meister  as  gospel  law,  started  a  vege- 
tarian club  at  Bayreuth,  but  it  is  not  known  whether 
their  Prophet  partook  of  their  insipid  messes;  certainly 
he  was  not  a  vegetarian  at  home. 

THB  TRAVELLING  WAGNEB  THEATBB 

Ever  since  the  first  performance  of  Rienzi  in  Dresden 
it  had  become  more  and  more  a  custom  of  musical  pil- 
grims to  go  to  one  city  or  another  to  hear  special  repre- 
sentations of  Wagner's  operas,  and  this  custom  had 
reached  its  extraordinary  climax  at  Bayreuth.  A  few 
years  after  that  Festival  the  process  was  reversed ;  Bay- 
reuth travelled  through  Europe;  and  this  is  the  way  it 
came  about.  According  to  the  original  plans  and  hopes, 
the  Nibelung^s  Ring  was  to  be  reserved  during  its  author's 
lifetime  for  Bayreuth  exclusively.  But  with  that  f  37, 500 
deficit,  and  a  possibility  of  increasing  it,  a  repetition  of 
the  Festival  was  out  of  the  question.  The  efforts  to 
cover  the  deficit  by  appealing  to  the  patrons,  and  by 
means  of  concerts  in  London,  had  failed.  In  this  emer- 
gency. King  Ludwig  once  more  came  to  the  rescue  and 


890  THE  PARSIFAL  PERIOD 

diminished  "the  burdens  which  would  otherwise  have 
crushed  me"  (X.  147),  The  composer's  great  indebted- 
ness to  the  King  is  brought  out  in  these  words  from  that 
memorable  Bayreuth  speech  of  Sept.  15, 1877:  — 

■'  His  Majesty  the  King  of  B&varia,  in  fact,  already  poae«Me8 
the  right  of  producing  the  \ibrtttng'g  Ring,  and  it  was  eimply  tm 
act  of  gecerouH  coQcession  on  his  fart  tlial  I  was  permitted  to  pro- 
duce It  Unit  here  in  Bayreuth.  But  now  he  will  be  entitled  to  his 
righta." 

The  reference  here  is  to  the  compact  made  between  the 
composer  and  the  King  that  in  return  for  an  annual  pen- 
sion the  Ring  should  be  completed  and  placed  at  the 
King's  disposal;  and  surely  the  Ringvas  royal  payment 
for  that  royal  pension.  But  the  King  not  only  gave 
Bayreuth  precedence;  he  also  advanced  S-WiOOO  towards 
the  purchase  of  the  scenic  outfit  for  the  Festival.  Thig 
sum  was  not  a  present,  however,  but  by  contract  with 
the  secretary  of  the  royal  treasury  the  scenery  thus  pro- 
vided belonged  to  the  King,  after  it  had  done  service  in 
Bayreuth,  Now  came  the  question  of  the  deficit.  King 
Ludwig  would  have  doubtless  generously  permitted  his 
friend  to  retain  exclusive  control  of  the  fling'  for  some 
years;  but  the  Intendant  of  the  Munich  Opera  saw  in 
the  deficit  a  way  of  securing  possession  of  Siegfried  and 
Ootterdiimmerung.  The  other  two  parts  of  the  Tetralogy 
had  already  been  given  there;  and  the  production  of  the 
whole  work  during  the  tourist  months  would  no  doubt 
prove  very  profitable.  Hence  the  Intendant  offered  to 
cover  the  deficit  in  return  for  permission  to  produce  the 
whole  Ring  —  an  offer  which  he  could  make  cheerfully, 
since  the  sum  forwarded  to  Bayreuth  would  be  saved  on 
the  ready-made  scenery  forwarded  to  him  from  Bayreuth. 


TBS  TBArXLLISa   WAONXB   TBSATBE      391 

So  every  one  was  benefited,  except  that  the  composer  had 
to  give  up  his  pet  scheme,  the  Bayreuth  monopoly  of  the 
Ring. 

Thus  Munich  secured  the  right  to  the  Sing,  which  was 
first  heard  there  as  a  complete  Tetralogy  in  Kovember, 
1878.  Vienna  and  Leipzig  also  received  permission  to 
produce  the  whole  Tetralogy  on  the  express  stipulation 
that  they  should  lend  their  artists  for  future  Festivals  at 
Bayreuth.  Further  concessions  Wt^er  did  not  intend 
to  make,  for  if  the  Biitg  were  given  in  too  many  cities 
the  remote  Bayreuth  would  be  apt  to  be  neglected  by  pil- 
grims, and  the  High  School  plan  frustrated.  When  he 
found,  however,  that  within  four  years  after  the  Festival, 
only  liOO  of  his  forty  million  countrymen  cared  enough 
for  his  ideal  of  producing  correct  performances  during 
his  lifetime  of  all  his  works,  to  contribute  eleven  dollars 
towards  that  end,  he  concluded  he  might  as  well  let  the 
theatres  have  the  Ring  without  further  delay.  The  first 
cities  to  follow  Munich  (with  the  complete  Ring)  were 
Leipzig  (1879),  Vienna  (1879),  and  Hamburg  (1880). > 
Other  cities  followed  rapidly,  but  in  almost  all  cases 
Wagner  was  vexed  by  the  absurd  partiality  shown  by  the 
managers  for  the  WaHcUre.  I  have  already  commented  on 
the  ridiculous  predilection  of  the  Germans  for  the  Wai- 
kiire,  which  is  certainly  inferior  to  Storied  and  OHUer- 
ddmmening,  both  musically  and  dramatically.  From 
Jan.  1,  1876,  to  Oct.  31,  1891,  there  were  given  in  Ger- 
many the  following  number  of  performances :  Rheingold, 
368;  WaikUre,  823;  Siegfried,  322;  OdUerdtimmervng,  314. 
These  figures  will  make  future  generations  smile;  but 
what  annoyed  W^!:ner  chiefly  was  not  this  silly  prefer- 
>  Wairfr  JtAr^veh,  18BS,  p.  8H.    Olawnspp,  U.  EOS. 


392  THE  PARSIFAL  PSRIOD 

ence  for  the  Walkiire,  but  the  fact  that,  with  very  few 
exceptions,  the  managers  insisted  on  mutilatiog  the 
scheme  of  the  Tetralogy  by  beginning  with  the  WaikSre 
instead  of  with  Rkeingold.  To  one  of  these  exceptions, 
Director  von  Loen  of  Weimar,  he  wrote  on  Oct.  22, 
1877;  — 

"Tbat'B  wbat  I  call  devolion  I  To  risk  It  with  RheingoU! 
What  more  can  I  aay  Ihan  '  Good  Luck  I '  .  .  .  1  am  glad  tliU  you 
do  not,  like  &lt  the  other  maQagero.  aak  for  the  WalkSre  only  i  tc 
these  I  refuse  all.  But  he  who  is  willing  to  begin  with  Bheingold 
is  bold  and  gets  —  the  whole." 

The  best  of  these  early  productions  of  the  Bing  were 

those  at  Leipzig,  at  least  as  far  as  the  ensemble  and  gen- 
eral spirit  were  concerned;  for  here  Wagner's  young 
favorite,  the  magnetic  Anton  Seidl,  presided  over  the 
performances,  and  the  manager  was  the  enterprising 
Angelo  Neumann  who,  two  years  later,  conceived  the 
audacious  plan  of  travelling  about  Eurojte  with  a  special 
Nibelung  company.  Wagner's  consent  was  given,  the 
performing  right  in  various  cities  secured  from  the  pub- 
lisher, Schott  (who  had  paid  $10,000  for  the  scores) ;  and 
on  Sept.  1,  1881,  the  first  of  these  representations  was 
given  at  Breslau.  The  company  consisted  of  eleven 
members,  with  Anton  Seidl  as  conductor,  and  Hedwig 
Eeicher-Kindermann,  Marianne  Brandt,  Augnste  Kraus 
(now  Mrs.  Seidl),  Katharina  Klafsky,  Anton  Schott, 
Julius  Liban,  and  Georg  Unger  among  the  singers. 
Complete  performances  of  the  Ring  (with  the  necessary 
cuts,  sanctioned  by  Wagner)  were  given  in  Breslau, 
Konigsberg,  Danzig,  Hanover,  Bremen,  Barmen,  Berlin, 
Amsterdam,  Brussels,  Aachen,  Diisseldorf,  Karlsruhe, 
Darmstadt,  Strassburg,  and  Stuttgart,  where  the  hun- 


THE  TRAVELLING  WAQNEB  THEATRE      898 

dredth  performance  was  witnessed  on  April  4,  1883. 
In  the  meantime^  fifty-two  Wagner  concerts  had  also 
been  given. 

The  success  of  the  undertaking  was  so  great  that  Herr 
Neumann  decided  to  go  to  Italy,  contrary  to  Wagner's 
strongly  expressed  desire  that  this  should  not  be  done. 
But  as  the  composer  had  died  (on  Feb.  13),  there  was  no 
longer  any  obstacle,  and  two  months  after  his  death  a 
row  of  Nibelung  gondolas  was  seen  moving  down  the 
Grand  Canal  in  Venice,  one  of  them  being  guarded  by 
the  Dragon,  Fafner.  In  Venice,  where  Wagner  had  died, 
and  where  he  had  enjoyed  great  personal  popularity,  the 
success  of  the  Ring  was  assured.  On  April  19  there  was 
a  memorial  performance  in  honor  of  its  composer,  in 
front  of  the  Palazzo  Vendramin,  in  which  he  had  died. 
Mr.  Seidl's  orchestra  played  the  Marcia  Eeale,  the  Tann- 
hduaer  overture,  and  Siegfried's  Death  March  to  an 
audience  which  filled  over  four  hundred  gondolas.  In 
Bologna,  too,  the  Ring  was  received  with  enthusiasm  — 
even  Rheingoldy  which  elsewhere  gave  less  pleasure  than 
the  other  dramas.  The  song  of  the  Ehine-maidens  had 
to  be  sung  twice,  and — what  is  a  great  deal  more 
remarkable,  and  justifies  the  title  of  'Hhe  Italian  Bay- 
reuth"  for  Bologna — Mime's  very  Wagnerian  passage, 
beginning  "Sorglose  Schmiede,"  had  to  be  repeated  by 
Lieban  three  times!  The  Eomans,  on  the  other  hand, 
showed  little  sympathy  for  the  new  art;  the  audiences 
were  large,  but  cold.  At  Milan  only  a  concert  could  be 
given  on  account  of  difficulties  with  the  Italian  proprie- 
tors of  the  scores.  Leaving  Italy  by  way  of  Trieste,  the 
company  gave  a  cycle,  there,  and  another  at  Buda-Pesth, 
whereupon  the  members  disbanded,  having  given  133 


394  TBS  PAB3IFAL  PERIOD  ^ 

Nibelung  performances,  and  fifty-eight  W^[ner  concerts 
between  the  dates  of  Sept.  1,  1882,  and  June  5,  1883.' 

The  only  regrettable  result  of  this  Nibelung  tour  waa 
that  Fran  Reicher-Kindermann,  whom  some  judges  con- 
sidered an  even  greater  Brfinnhilde  than  Matema,  died 
at  Trieste.  She  ought  not  to  have  gone  to  Italy  with 
Neumann;  she  had  been  severely  ill,  and  yet  persisted 
in  singing  in  spite  of  fainting  spells  and  partial  loss  of 
voice.  Jealousy  of  another  singer  aggravated  her  mal- 
ady; at  Trieste,  in  a  fit  of  rage,  she  accompanied  her 
friends  to  a  tavern,  after  singing  in  Gotterddmmerung; 
to  sulxlue  her  fever  she  drank  glass  after  glass  of  ice- 
cold  beer.  At  two  o'clock  she  waa  seized  with  chills 
and  had  to  be  taken  to  the  hotel.  A  few  days  later  she 
was  dead,  She  had  been  engaged  to  be  a  member  of  the 
Boyal  Opera  at  Berlin;  and  when  Intendant  HcUsen 
heard  of  her  death,  he  wrote  to  her  father :  "  Alas,  I  knew 
beforehand  what  would  happen  in  the  poor  state  of  her 
health,  and  I  told  her  when  she  bid  me  good-bye:  'If 
you  continue  to  participate  in  this  swindle,  you  will  not 
endure  it,  and  your  appearance  in  Berlin  is  more  than 
doubtful.'  .  .  .  Now  German  art  is  the  poorer  by  a 
great  talent,  and  to  what  end  f  " 

THE   "CIRCUS   HiJLSEN"  AGAIN 

In  order  not  to  interrupt  the  narrative  of  the  Nibeltmg 

conquest  of  Europe,  I  have  somewhat  anticipated  events, 

and  must  now  return  to  an  important  and  scandalous 

occurrence  in  1881  —  the  first  performance  of  the  Nibe- 

1 1  owe  moRt  of  the  above  details  about  the  Nibelung  travelB  to  two 
Interesting  pamphleU  b;  Inspector  J,  JuhasE.  Dtr  Ring  det  yibtlungtn 
OJarDUltadt,  1883)  and  Dot  Wagner  Theater  in  Ilalitn  (BarUu,  1884). 


TBM  "CIBCU8  SULBEN"  AOAIS  895 

lung'a  Bing  in  Berlin.  That  it  was  an  important  event  is 
a  matter  of  coone;  whj  it  was  scandalous  remains  to  be 
explained.  Any  unsophisticated  person  would  naturally 
suppose  that  the  Berlin  Intendant  must  have  been  one 
of  the  veiy  fizst  to  secure  the  right  of  performing  the 
Tetralogy.  Had  uot  Wagner,  ever  since  1875,  been  the 
most  popular  of  all  opera-composers  in  Berlin?  •  Was 
it  not  incumbent  on  the  Berlin  Intendant  —  if  only  for 
business  reasons — to  produce  a  work  of  which  all  Eu- 
rope was  talkii^,  and  about  which  a  small  library  had 
already  been  written? 

Foolish  expectations  t  Hiilsen  wanted  the  WdUciin, 
and  only  the  WaJkiire;  the  other  dramas,  he  believed, 
would  not  pay  the  expense  of  mountii^.  This  Botho 
von  Hiilsen,  the  reader  will  remember,  was  the  same 
man  who  bad  kept  Tannh&taer  in  quarantine  for  ten 
years  (and  until  forty  other  theatres  had  given  it) ;  the 
same  man  who  waited  nine  years  before  he  could  make 
up  his  mind  that  Lohengrin  was  worth  producing.  These 
operas  were  now  approaching  their  two  hundredth  per- 
formance (the  three  hundredth  of  both  came  in  1892). 
Did  this  make  any  impression  on  Hdlsen?  Any  man  of 
common  sense,  after  such  an  experience,  would  have  had 
a  little  less  confidence  in  himself,  and  a  little  more  in 
Wagner's  genius.  Unluckily,  Hfilsen  was  one  of  those 
members  of  the  "  aristocracy  "  who,  as  Wagner  remarked 
in  one  of  his  letters,  were  appointed  Intendants  of  Oer- 

1  It  Is  tnterastliiK  to  tnoe  the  growtli  of  Wapterlsm  In  Berlin,  In  ([dte 
of  HtilMD'B  heiolo  elToitB  to  down  It.  In  18S9-eD  Wagnei  hsd  ml;  9 
BTBQlngB  u  mgminit  Aaber,  32 ;  Hoiart.  19 ;  Meyerbeer,  IT ;  Weber,  13 ; 
sad  Doniiettl,  a  Id  1861-3  Spootlnl  lemda;  the  ye&r  tolloirinK  Wagnei 
has  only  1 1  In  ISTO  Meyerbeer  goes  sliead,  and  in  1876  Wagner  wlna ; 
in  1RT6-T  he  bad  ST  avenluga,  and  this  preponderance  had  grown  In  1890-1 
to  90,  or  abont  five  UmM  aa  many  as  any  other  compowr. 


396  TBE  PARSIFAL  PERIOD 

man  royal  theatres,  not  because  of  their  knowledge,  but 
because  of  their  ignorance  of  art.  He  bad  been  brought 
up  as  a  soldier,  and  he  was  interested  in  amateur  the- 
atricals, which  latter  cireumBtance  induced  King  Frederic 
William  IV.  one  day  to  offer  him,  to  his  great  surprise, 
the  post  of  Intendant  of  the  royal  theatres.  He  assumed 
his  duties  in  1851,  and  for  thirty-four  ye^rs  mismanaged 
the  Eoyal  Opera  in  Berlin;  indeed,  after  1867,  he  also 
had  under  his  control  the  opera-houses  of  Hanover, 
Gassel,  and  Wiesbaden. 

In  1860  Wagner  wrote  to  Liszt  that  a  complete  revo- 
lution in  Berlin  operatic  affairs  would  be  needed  before 
he  could  have  any  hopes  for  himself.  This  revolution, 
alas,  did  not  come  till  three  years  after  his  death  (Hillsen 
died  in  18Sfi).  After  the  Bayreuth  Festival,  Hiilseo, 
as  I  have  just  stated,  wanted  the  Walkilre;  but  he  could 
not  get  it  except  on  condition  of  producing  the  whole 
Tetralogy.  At  last,  after  waiting  four  years,  Hiilsen 
showed  a  willingness  to  accede  to  this  condition.  But 
Wagner,  with  his  customary  detestable  "  stubbornness  " 
and  "  arrogance, "  insisted  that  the  Nibelung'a  Ring  should 
be  performed  correctly  in  Berlin.  In  view  of  the  fact* 
that  in  no  other  German  cities  such  slovenly  and  incor- 
rect performances  of  his  operas  were  given  as  in  Berlin, 
he  insisted  that  he  should  have  something  to  say  about 
the  choice  of  singers,  and  tliat  Anton  Seidl  should  con- 
duct. Hiilsen  objected  to  these  conditions,  aa  well  aa 
to  the  proviso  that  the  four  dramas  should  be  given  in 
proper  order;  and  so  the  matter  was  dropped. 

In  this  emergency  another  manager  appeared  on  the 
scene  —  Angelo  Neumann.  This  enterprising  impre- 
sario, after  giving  several  successful  series  of  the  Ring 


THE  ''C1SCU8  HULSBN"  AGAIN  897 

in  Leipzig,  concluded  to  take  his  company  to  Berlin.  At 
first  he  offered  to  give  his  performances  at  the  Boyal 
Opera  House;  but  trouble  again  arose  in  regard  to  con- 
ductor and  singers;  some  of  the  singers  at  the  Boyal 
Opera  contended,  and  with  justice,  that  if  the  Ring  were 
given  at  their  theatre,  they  who  had  helped  to  interpret 
it  at  Bayreuth,  should  help  in  Berlin  too.  Emperor 
William  had  given  Hfilsen  authority  to  do  whatever  he 
pleased  in  the  matter,  and  HOlsen  accordingly  pleased  to 
drop  it.  He  tried  to  put  the  responsibility  on  the  singers, 
but  it  is  unnecessary  to  point  out  that  the  blame  for  the 
disgraceful  fact  that  the  Berliners  did  not  hear  the  first 
performance  of  the  greatest  work  of  the  greatest  German 
dramatic  composer  at  the  Boyal  Opera,  which  receives 
a  subvention  of  f  150,000  a  year  for  the  furtherance  of 
national  art  interests,  rests  entirely  on  Botho  von  Hfll- 
sen,  whose  duty  it  was  to  throw  open  the  doors  to  Wag- 
ner and  his  work  on  any  conditions  whatever.* 

The  consequence  of  Hiilsen's  extraordinary  conduct 
was  that  the  Nxbelung^s  Ring  had  to  be  given  in  the  sub- 

1  After  these  reyelations  the  reader  wiU  not  wonder  at  the  aboye- 
cited  reference  of  Hiileen's  to  the  Wagner  **  swindle  "  to  which  Fran 
Reicher-Kindermann  sacrifice^  her  life,  with  the  spiteful  addition,  "  and 
to  what  end  ?**    It  is  significant  that  Fran  yon  Hnlsen,  in  the  biography 
of  her  husband,  has  only  one  brief  reference  to  Wagner.    It  was  a  t<^ic 
which,  for  her  husband's  credit,  she  did  weU  to  ignore.    We  know  from 
the  correspondence  with  Liszt  that  Wagner  wrote  Htilsen  not  a  few  long 
and  imploring  letters.    Were  these  letters  presenred  ?  and  if  so,  why 
did  not  H^^ne  yon  Hiilsen  print  them?    One  ought  not  to  langfa  at  an 
obituary  notice,  but  I  am  sure  many  Germans  must  haye  langhed  at  the 
statement  in  the  Leipzig  SigruUe  (No.  60,  1886)  that  "  in  Hfilsen  wero 
combined,  in  a  rare  degree,  all  faculties  needed  for  the  difflcnlt  and 
responsible  position  of  a  royal  Intendant  *' ;  when  the  fact  was  noto- 
rious throughout  Germany  that  during  Hfilsen's  regime,  in  qrfte  of 
some  good  singers  and  a  first-lass  orchestra,  the  Berlin  Opera  gaye 
performances  far  inferior  to  those  to  be  heard  in  any  German  dty  of 
the  first  or  second  rank. 


398  THE  PABStFAL  PERIOD 

urban  Victoria  Tlieatre,  ill-Baited  for  such  a  purpose. 
But  with  Anton  Seidl  as  conductor,  and  Matema,  Vogl, 
Keicher-Kindermaun,  and  Schelper  among  the  singera, 
succeaa  was  assured.  Four  times  the  Bing  was  repeated. 
Wagner  himself  attended  on  several  evenings,  and  waa 
made  the  subject  of  a  great  ovation.'  In  the  following 
year  the  company  returned,  and  gave  Nibelung  perform- 
ances for  several  months. 

COMPOSiriON  OF  PAE8IFAL 

It  is  a  curious  fact  that,  with  the  exception  of  TWston, 
all  of  "Wagner's  dramatic  poema  were  conceived  hefore 
he  had  ended  his  thirty-fifth  year.  The  Meiiterainger 
plot  was  fully  sketched  even  before  Lohengrin,  while  the 
germs  of  the  whole  Nibelung  Tetralogy  are  contained  in 
Siegfried's  Death,  which  waa  written  soon  after  Lohen- 
grin. The  origin  of  Parsifal,  too,  can  he  traced  to  this 
period,  for  it  is  obvious  that  not  a  few  things  in  the 
projected  and  sketched  (1848)  but  alKuidoned  drama  Jesus 
of  Nazareth  {which  was  referred  to  in  an  earlier  chapter) 
were  transferred  to  his  last  work.  Frau  Wille  relates 
in  her  Rundschau  reminiscences  that  she  waa  displeased 
when  Wagner  one  day  represented  to  his  friends,  with 
his  vivid  enthusiasm,  how  the  "Prophet  of  Nazareth," 
loved  by  the  sinful  Magdalena  with  earthly  love,  might 
be  made  into  a  stage-picture  of  touching  beauty:  "I 

'  Tbere  is  one  more  extraordlDaiy  tact  In  regard  to  NeumaoD's  Nlbe- 
luDK  travels  that  must  be  mentioned  here.  When  Nenmimii  took  his 
company  from  Florence  to  Rome,  the  government  charged  blm  only 
one-quarler  the  regular  railway  rales  (S400) ;  whereas  the  Pnissiui 
officials  charged  him  SIOOO  (or  the  short  trip  from  Breslau  to  Konlg*- 
berg,  relUBlng  to  give  the  dlscoont  luually  alloved  lo  tbeaUickl  oom- 


COMPOSITION  OF  PARSIFAL  809 

looked  at  him  in  astonishment,  and  left  the  room.  .  •  • 
In  the  last  gift  of  his  genius,  in  Parsifal,  the  knightly 
priest,  and  in  Kundry  redeemed  from  the  influence  of 
evil  powers,  we  find  again  what  he  had  in  his  mind  as 
early  as  the  year  1852";^  that  is,  five  years  after  the 
completion  of  Lohengrin^  and  thirty  years  before  the 
actual  completion  of  the  Parsifal  score. 

A  still  more  interesting  revelation  regarding  the 
growth  of  the  Parsifal  plan  is  contained  in  a  letter  to 
Praeger,  dated  April  8, 1865,  in  which  he  says  of  King 
Ludwig:  ''He  is  so  strikingly  handsome  that  he  might 
pose  as  the  King  of  the  Jews,  and — this  in  confidence  — 
I  am  seriously  reflecting  on  the  Christian  tragedy;  pos- 
sibly something  may  come  of  it.''  Something  did  come 
of  it;  for  on  Sept.  26  of  the  same  year  he  wrote  to  Fran 
Wille:  '' I  am  now  completing  the  ^»&6Zun^en ;  Sk  Parsifal 
is  already  sketched.''  The  versification,  however,  was 
not  completed  till  after  the  Bayreuth  Festival.  He  took 
the  manuscript  to  London,  and  read  it  on  May  17, 1877,  for 
the  first  time,  to  a  circle  of  friends,  in  Mr.  Dannreuther's 
house  (12  Orme  Square).  Two  months  later,  he  read  it 
to  his  friends  in  Heidelberg,  and  in  September,  to  the 
delegates  of  the  Wagner  Societies,  at  his  own  house  in 

1  It  is  said  that  the  Good-Friday-Spell  music  also  belongs  to  this  year. 
Mr.  Seidl  has  told  me  an  interesting  incident  relating  to  the  music  of 
the  Flower  Oirl  score.  When  he  first  became  Wagner's  secretary  he 
heard  him  one  day  plajring  those  enchanting  strains,  which  naturally 
made  an  indelible  impression  on  him.  Some  years  later,  when  he  was 
patting  the  sketches  into  rough  shape  for  practical  use,  Wagner  played 
various  parts  for  him.  When  he  came  to  the  Flower  Girl  music,  ICr. 
Seidl  remarked,  "  Ah,  I  know  that."  Whereupon  Wagner  Jumped  up 
excitedly,  almost  angrily,  and  wanted  to  know  where  he  had  heard  it. 
He  was  pacified  on  being  told  where,  but  for  a  long  time  the  tboclf. 
affected  him,  for  he  often  said  to  Ifr.  Seidl:  "  Well,  have  you  found 
any  more  familiar  things  in  my  mwic?  " 


-j: 


400  THE  PARSIFAL  PEBIOO 


Bayreutb.'  Two  montlis  later  the  poem  appeared  in 
print,  and  in  the  spring  of  1878,  the  musical  sketches  of 
the  first  act  were  on  paper.  On  Oct.  11  the  second  act 
was  completed.  On  Christmas  morning  he  conducted, 
for  his  family  at  Wahnfried,  the  Prdlude,  the  orchestra 
having  been  kindly  supplied  by  the  Duke  of  Meiningen. 
The  sketches  of  the  third  act  were  completed  on  April 
25,  1879.  The  inatnimentation  of  Parai/al  was  in  great 
part  completed  in  Italy,  where  the  Meister  was  compelled 
—  iiot  at  all  against  his  will  —  to  spend  the  last  winters 
of  his  life.  A  return  of  his  erysipelas,  complicated  by 
symptoms  of  the  heart  trouble  to  which  he  was  fated  to 
succumb  so  soon,  made  him  aeek  a  home  in  the  Villa 
D'Angri,  at  Naples,  where,  sorroanded  011I7  by  his  fiun- 
ily,  he  found  the  solitnde  and  freedom  from  exoitement 
which  the  state  of  his  health  called  for.  He  refused  an 
invitation  to  attend  the  first  performance  of  Iiohengrin  at 
the  Apollo  Theatre  in  Rome,  but  consented  to  attend  the 
exercises  of  the  pupils  of  the  Kaples  Conservatory,  after 
which  he  wrote  a  letter  to  its  president,  the  Duke  of 
Bagnera,  in  which  he  expressed  his  gratification  at  what 
he  had  heard,  and  gave  some  good  advice,  recommend- 
ing, among  other  things,  the  works  of  Mozart,  Gluck, 
and  Spontini  to  the  students  of  song  and  composition.' 
The  greater  part  of  the  winter  of  1881-2  was  spent  at 

I  ■'  Reverently  we  sat  that  afternoon  In  Villa  Wahnfried,"  writes  Ta>- 
■pen.  "  Wben  the  Mnster  came  to  the  third  aot,  juBt  to  the  place  where 
the  coliin  with  Tilurel's  corpse  is  borne  into  the  tiall  b;  ttie  Knights  of 
the  Grail,  the  sun  was  sinking  behind  the  trees  la  the  Hofgartep.  Its 
last  beams,  tremblingly,  like  greeting  spirits,  came  silently  Into  the 
room  and  glorified  tbe  scene,  the  waves  o{  light  resting  Uke  a  h&lo 
around  the  head  of  tbe  composer." 

*  This  lettei  la  printed  ia  Noufflaid's  Wagner  d'aprit  (ui-mcmc, 
377-283. 


FIS8T  PASBXfAL  TZSTITAL  401 

Palermo.  Here,  at  the  Hotel  des  Palmes,  be  completed 
the  score  of  Parn/al,  on  Jan.  13,  VSXi.  The  Prince 
Gangi  having  kindly  placed  his  villa  at  his  ^isiKurtl,  he 
moved  to  that  on  February  first.  He  also  made  ^Kor- 
sions  to  other  parts  of  Sicily,  especially  in  order  to 
escape  the  tormoil  of  the  six  hundredth  anuiveisary  of 
the  Sicilian  Vespers.  Before  leaving  Palermo^  in  April, 
he  conducted  a  concert  at  which  two  of  his  own  ™»w>>tf 
were  played.  On  the  first  of  May  he  arrived  in  Mnnieh, 
on  his  way  to  Bayreuth,  which  he  reached  a  week  later. 
On  the  twenty-second,  his  sixty-ninth  birthday,  be 
was  surprised  by  the  gift  of  two  black  swans  from  King 
Ludwig.  They  found  a  home  in  the  Park  behind  his 
house. 

FIBST  PABaiFAI.  FB8IITAL 
It  may  seem  strange  that  it  should  have  taken  almost 
three  years  to  orchestrate  Parnfal.  The  caoae  of  this 
dela,y  was  neither  old  age  nor  ill-health,  bat  the  indiffer- 
ence of  contemporaries.  The  Germans,  as  a  nation, 
seemed  in  no  harry  whatever  for  a  new  work  from  his 
pen.  He  had  promised  Paraifal  for  the  rammer  of  1880, 
and  could  have  easily  completed  it  \fj  that  time ;  in  which 
case  he  might  have  written  another  drama  dnring  the 
last  three  years  of  his  life.  But  the  growth  of  funds 
for  the  ParnfaL  Festival  was  so  slow  that  it  bad  to  he 
postponed  to  1882.  While  F.  Schdn  of  Worms  mntrib- 
uted  $2600,  and  Hans  von  BSlow  $10,000,  the  Wagner 
Societies  had  only  1100  members  in  1880.  A  call  for  • 
fund  of  $250,000,  as  a  national  present  to  Wagner,  od  bis 
seventieth  birthday,  to  ensure  the  continuance  of  the 
Bayreuth  Festivals,  was  answered  by  the  prev  with  the 
Qsoal  howl  of  derision.     At  the  close  of  UBl  IIm  Fcati' 


402  THE  PAB8IFAL  PERIOD 

val  fund  had  reached  about  $32,500,  to  which  92500 
more  were  added  later  on.  With  thiB  it  would  have  been 
rash  to  risk  a  Festival,  had  iiot  King  Ludwig  once  more 
come  to  the  rescue  by  placing  at  Wagner's  disposal  the 
forces  of  the  Munich  opera-house  for  this  Festival  ajid 
others  to  come;  in  return  for  which  Munich  received 
the  exclusive  right  to  the  performance  of  the  early  opera, 
T?ie  Fairies.^ 

The  newspapers,  with  few  exceptions,  not  only  did 
all  they  could  to  discredit  the  Festival,  but  some  of  them 
went  so  far  as  to  promulgate,  at  the  critical  moment,  a 
mendacious  report  that  there  was  an  epidemic  of  small- 
pox at  Biiyreuth.  Tlieir  anger  was  aroused  by  the  plan 
permitting  only  metubers  of  thti  various  Wagner  Soci- 
eties to  attend  the  first  two  performances.  Some  of  them 
naj'vely  remarked  that  this  measure  was  taken  from  fear 
of  the  critics !  It  was  really  taken,  as  a  Berlin  journalist 
justly  explained,  because  "  the  Wagnerites  desire  to  be 
alone  at  the  first  performances,  so  as  to  be  able  to  enjoy 
the  new  art-work  without  being  disturbed  in  their  devo- 
tion by  rude  utterances  and  stupid  raillery,  as  they  were  at 
the  Nibdung  representations."  Once  more,  however,  the 
opposition  failed  in  its  attempts  to  crush  Wagner,  the 
only  result  of  its  malice  being  that  the  Festival  proved 
less  successful  financially  than  it  would  have  otherwise. 

A  few  preliminary  rehearsals  had  already  been  held  in 
the  summer  of  1881.  As  there  was  only  one  drama  to 
be  given  this  time,  a  month  was  deemed  sufficient  time 
for  the  rehearsals  of  1882.  The  first  performance  was 
announced  for  July  26,  the  last  for  Aug.  29.     The  task 


FIB8T  PAB8IFAL  FESTIVAL  408 

of  securing  singers  had  been  much  less  fonnidable  than 
in  1876y  not  only  because  there  were  fewer  r51eSy  but 
because  the  number  of  good  Wagner  singers  was  now 
much  larger — so  large,  indeed,  that  there  was  no  diffi- 
culty in  securing  three  casts ;  ^  an  arrangement  which  not 
only  provided  the  charm  of  variety,  but  gave  the  eminent 
artists  who  participated  an  opportunity  to  learn  from 
each  other.  This  had  been  one  of  Wagner's  chief  motives 
in  organizing  the  Festivals.  He  expected  that  each 
vocalist-actor  would  do  justice  to  a  different  trait  of  the 
rdle  impersonated,  so  that  the  others  could  perfect  their 
conceptions  in  that  direction.  This  result  was  attained; 
those  who  heard  the  last  performances  could  not  help 
noting  how  much  all  the  singers  had  grown  in  one  month. 
Besides  the  soloists,. there  was  a  chorus  of  84  men  and 
women,  50  boys,  and  an  orchestra  of  105,  of  whom  73 
belonged  to  the  Munich  Opera,  whose  conductor,  H. 
Levi,  naturally  presided  over  the  performances. 

A  few  days  before  the  first  performance,  the  pilgrims 
began  to  arrive  in  large  numbers.  Those  who  expected 
to  be  allowed  to  attend  the  last  rehearsals,  as  in  1876, 
were  disappointed.  They  could  not  but  be  pleased,  on 
the  other  hand,  with  the  evidences  of  new  life  and  growth 
presented  by  Bayreuth.  The  money  which  in  1876  had 
flown  into  the  coffers  of  the  citizens  encouraged  the 
magistrates  to  build,  the  very  next  year,  a  fine  system  of 
water-works,  adding  much  to  the  comfort  of  tourists, 
and  providing  the  means  for  a  fountain  and  precautions 
against  fire,  at  the  theatre  on  the  hill.     A  new,  com- 

1  P&nifal :  Winkelmann,  Jiger,  Godehns,  (Yogi) .  Kimdrj :  BCatema, 
Brandt,  Bfalten.  Giinieiiianc :  Scarla,  Siehr.  Amtortat:  Beichmann, 
Beck.  TttQiel:  Kindennmim.  KUngior:  HUl,  Fndu.  Leader  of  the 
flower  girliy  LiUi  Lehmaim. 


404  TES  PARSIFAL  PERIOD 


modious  railway  station  had  also  been  built,  and  a  num- 
ber of  new  houses  erected  iii  which  the  pilgrims  found 
more  comfortable  quarters  than  many  of  them  had  been 
doomed  to  in  1876.  The  local  paper  pointed  with  pride 
to  the  vast  number  of  letters  and  telegrams  despatched 
at  the  post-ofiBce,  The  shop  windows  were  filled  with 
photographs  relating  to  the  Festival,  and  everything 
connected  therewith.  There  were  Parsifal  cravats,  and 
Farsital  beer,  and  Grail  cups  of  all  sizes.  In  short, 
every  branch  of  industry  had  assumed  a  Parsifal  tinge. 
Every  Bayreuther  was  an  ardent  admirer  of  Wagner, 
though  he  had  never  heard  a  note  of  his  music,  except 
that  supplied  by  the  practising  trombone-player  in  his 
back  parlor;  and  those  visitors  who  doubted  Wagner's 
genius  were  charged  a  mark  more  for  everything  they 
bought.'  Before  describing  the  first  performance  let  as, 
as  usual,  cast  a  glance  at  the  work  to  be  produced. 

STORY  OF  PARSIFAL 
Parsifal  is  the  father  of  Lohengrin,  and  Wagner's  last 
drama  gratifies  the  curiosity  of  those  who  would  like  to 
know  more  about  the  Holy  Grail  from  which  Lohengrin 
came  to  succor  the  unjustly  accused  Elsa,  and  to  which 
lie  is  obliged  to  return  because  she  breaks  her  promise. 
The  Grailsburg  is  situated  in  the  neighborhood  of  the 
Castle  Moutsalvat,  in  Spain,  It  was  built  by  King 
Titurel  and  his  knights  as  a  sanctuary  for  the  Holy  Grail 

I  The  WagnerizaCloD  of  Bayreuth  has  coDtinu^  aince  1882.  In  1B86 
the  name  of  the  R«DDweg,  on  whluh  tbe  villa  Walinfrted  is  aitualod,  waa 
cbaD|;ed  to  Richard  Wagner  Strasse.  There  is  also  a  Siegfried  Btrasae, 
etc.  Moreover,  during  clie  tourist  seasoD,  Nuremberg  and  even  Munich 
have  practically  become  suburbs  of  Ba;rautb,  all  the  shop  wtndom 
being  £Ued  with  Wagnei-literature  and  pictuiea. 


I 

•4 


8T0BT  OF  PAB8IFAL  405 

which  was  brought  to  them  by  angels  to  be  guarded  by 
them  against  the  enemies  of  Christianity.  The  Grail, 
in  Wagner's  poem,  is  the  cup  that  was  used  at  the  Last 
Supper,  and  that  subsequently  received  the  crucified 
Saviour's  blood.  This  cup  has  the  same  qualities  that 
the  earth  has  for  Antseus,  or  Freia  for  the  gods  in  Wal- 
halla — it  rejuvenates  and  invigorates  the  holy  knights, 
who  are  privileged  to  behold  it  whenever  the  King 
uncovers  it.  When  King  Titurel  found  the  end  of  his 
allotted  life  approaching,  his  son  Amfortas  was  crowned 
King  of  the  brotherhood.  But  Amfortas  succumbed  to 
a  temptation  which  had  already  brought  misfortune  upon 
many  of  the  knights :  he  fell  a  victim  to  the  wiles  of 
Klingsor,  the  wizard,  whose  castle  is  not  far  off.  Kling- 
sor,  the  representative  of  heathen  sensuality,  had  once 
endeavored  to  secure  admission  to  the  holy  brotherhood. 
But  he  lacked  the  requisite  purity  of  heart  and  conduct, 
and  freedom  from  worldly  desires,  to  obtain  which  he 
resorted  to  self-mutilation.  Kepulsed  from  the  Grails- 
burg,  he  swore  vengeance  on  the  knights,  and  in  his 
magic  castle  he  now  holds  many  of  them  as  captives  to 
the  charms  of  the  bevy  of  lovely  maidens  whom  he  has 
gathered  for  this  purpose.  King  Amfortas,  when  he 
went  forth  to  annihilate  the  sorcerer  and  his  castle,  fell 
a  victim  to  the  wiles  of  Kundry,  the  most  beautiful  of 
the  unlucky  females  enslaved  by  Klingsor.  Kundry  is 
a  sort  of  female  Wandering  Jew,  the  Herodias  of  Qet- 
man  legend,  who  laughed  at  the  Saviour  when  he  bore 
his  cross.  For  this  she  was  condemned  to  ^^  cursed 
laughter,"  and  to  wander  about  the  earth  until  she  could 
again  find  a  saviour  to  release  her  from  her  curse  by  his 
love.    Klingsor  had  gained  control  over  her  through  his 


406  TUE  PABSLFAL  PERIOD 


magic  arts,  and  now  compels  her  to  aid  him  io  reducing 
the  number  of  faithful  knights,  so  that  he  may  ultimately 
satisfy  his  desire  of  gaining  possession  of  the  Grail. 
While  King  Amfortaa  is  ensnared  by  Kundry'a  charms, 
Klingaor  snatches  from  him  his  holy  spear  —  the  spe^ar 
with  which  Longinua  had  pierced  the  Saviour's  side, 
and  which  Titurel  had  received  with  the  Grail,  With 
this  spear  he  inflicts  on  Amfortas  a  painful  wound  which 
refuses  to  heal,  and  henceforth  forever  exposes  him  to 
the  most  woful  torments. 

Act  I.  These  events,  which  precede  the  drama  proper, 
are  made  known  to  the  audience  in  an  epio  or  episodic 
form  during  the  first  act,  which  also  contains  some  of 
the  most  stirring  dramatic  incidents  in  the  play.  Wlien 
the  curtain  is  drawn,  Gurnemanz,  a  robust  and  hale  old 
knight,  and  two  young  pages  are  seen  asleep  under  a, 
tree.  Gurnemanz  awakes  at  the  sound  of  invisible  trom- 
bones blowing  a  morning  call  in  the  direction  of  the 
Grailsburg.  He  rouses  his  companions,  and  bids  them 
go  to  the  lake  and  prepare  the  wounded  King's  morning 
bath.  As  they  retire  toward  the  lake,  which  is  seen  in 
the  background,  they  suddenly  behold  a  horse,  with  a 
female  rider,  dashing  wildly  along,  almost  flying.  It  is 
Kundry,  who  in  hours  of  freedom  always  endeavors  to 
atone  by  some  good  service  for  the  harm  she  does  the 
knights  while  under  the  iniiuence  of  Klingsor'a  spell. 
She  is  arrayed  in  a  short  dress,  held  together  by  a  girdle 
of  snakeskins;  her  black  hair  flows  in  disorder  over  her 
shoulders;  her  complexion  is  dark  brown,  and  her  eyes 
piercingly  black,  now  wild  in  ex])ression,  and  anon  fixed 
in  a  dead  stare.  In  her  hand  she  has  a  small  flask,  which 
she  gives  to  Gurnemanz,  and  then  throws  herself  on  the 
ground,  exhausted. 


8T0ST  OF  PAB8IFAL  407 

The  King's  approach  is  now  heard.  He  is  oonveyed 
in  a  litter,  aocompanied  by  knights  and  esquires.  From 
Qumemanz  he  receives  the  flask,  and  hears  that  Kundrj 
has  brought  it  as  balm  for  his  wound  from  Arabia.  He 
expresses  his  gratitude,  but  has  no  hope  in  the  remedy, 
for  he  knows  he  can  expect  a  cure  only  through  one 
whom  the  Grail  has  announced  to  him  as  his  saviour: 
''By  pity  enlightened,  a  guileless  fool;  wait  for  him, 
my  chosen  tool "  —  these  were  the  words  that  once 
appeared  in  magic  letters  on  the  rim  of  the  holy  vessel 
while  he  lay  before  it  in  fervent  prayer.  The  proces- 
sion now  moves  on  toward  the  lake,  while  the  esquires 
remain  taunting  the  mysterious  Kundry,  when  suddenly 
the  whizz  of  an  arrow,  imitated  in  a  strikingly  realistic 
manner  by  the  orchestra,  followed  by  weird,  swan-motive 
harmonies  from  Lohengrin,  is  heard.  A  wounded  swan 
slowly  flies  across  the  lake,  and  then  falls  down  dying. 
The  Parsifal  motive  announces  the  appearance  of  the 
culprit  who  has  thus  ruthlessly  killed  one  of  the  animals 
sacred  in  these  precincts.  In  an  affecting  passage,  in 
which  words  and  music  are  alike  beautiful,  Gurnemanz 
reproaches  Parsifal,  who  at  first  boasts  of  his  skill  at 
having  killed  the  bird  "on  the  wing,"  but  after  listening 
to  the  old  knight,  follows  a  sudden  impulse  and  breaks 
his  bow  in  pieces.  The  question  who  he  is  and  where 
from,  he  professes  to  be  unable  to  answer,  when  Kundry 
interrupts  the  dialogue  and  announces  that  he  is  the  son 
of  Gamuret,  who  gave  birth  to  him  after  the  death  of 
his  father,  who  fell  in  battle.  To  save  her  son  from  a 
similar  fate  she  reared  him  in  a  deep  forest,  ignorant  of 
the  world  and  his  parentage. 

Parsifal  now  remembers  that  one  day  he  saw  some 


J 


408  TBE  PABSIFAL  PERIOD 

armed  horsemen,  with  beautiful  horseB,  whom  he  endeav- 
ored to  follow.  Soon  he  lost  sight  of  them,  and,  with 
8  elf -constructed  weapona,  fought  his  way  through  the 
various  dangers  that  beset  him.  Kundry  replies  that 
his  mother  is  dead  —  that  his  departure  broke  her  heart; 
whereupon  Parsifal  is  seized  by  such  sudden  regret  and 
horror  that  he  threatens  violence  to  the  unhappy  mes- 
senger of  these  tidings;  but  Gurnemanz  protects  her 
from  his  fury.  A  sudden  trembling  and  fatigue  now 
overcome  Kundry,  who  retires  into  the  forest  to  sleep. 
The  magic  motive  of  Rlingsor  in  the  orchestra  explains 
that  it  is  his  spell  which  calls  her  thus  to  his  castle. 
Gurnemanz  suspects  that  Parsifal  may  be  the  "guileless 
fool "  who  is  chosen  to  relieve  the  King,  and  accordingly 
invites  him  to  follow  him  to  the  Grailsburg,  in  the  hope 
that  the  sight  of  the  Buffering  King  might  "enlighten 
him  through  pity,"  and  thus  make  him  the  chosen  tool 
of  redemption.  As  they  seem  to  walk  from  left  to  right, 
the  scene  gradually  changes;  the  forest  disappears,  and 
wild  rock  takes  its  place;  a  door  opens  amidst  walls  of 
stone,  which  they  enter.  Sounds  of  bells  and  trombones 
are  heard  coming  nearer  and  nearer.  At  last  they  arrive 
in  a  large  hall,  ending  above  in  a  vaulted  dome,  through 
wliich  alone  light  is  admitted.  A  door  opens  on  each 
side,  through  one  of  which  the  Knights  of  the  Grail  enter 
in  procession,  singing  a  solemn  chorus.  While  they  take 
places  at  two  long  tables,  their  voices  are  joined  by  those 
of  yontlis  in  the  mid-height  of  the  dome,  and  boys'  voices 
at  the  summit.  Through  the  opposite  door  another  pro- 
cession enters  bearing  Amfortas  in  his  litter.  It  is  the 
King's  duty  to  uncover  the  Grail,  to  rejuvenate  his 
knights;  but  he  longs  to  be  relieved  of  this  duty,  as  it 


8T0BT  or  PABBIFAL  409 

gives  him,  too,  reneired  ritality,  and  prolongs  the  agony 
of  his  ezistenoce.  The  voice  of  Titurel,  hovevei,  urges 
him  on,  and  he  at  last  uncoverB  the  Grail.  D&rkness  has 
meanvMle  spread  over  the  hall  so  that  the  Grail  cup  is 
distinctly  seen  gradually  glowing  vith  a  purple  loBtre. 
Amfortas  raises  it,  and  gently  swings  it  about  on  all 
sides  —  the  whole  act  being  accompanied  by  music  of  the 
moat  super-terrestrial,  ethereal  character,  like  a  halo  of 
sound.  Gumemanz  invites  Parsifal  to  take  part  in  the 
supper,  but  Parsifal  remains  standing,  lost  in  mute 
astonishment  at  these  proceedings.  After  the  knights 
have  again  departed,  the  disappointed  Gumemanz  shakes 
Farisfal  by  the  arm  and  bids  him  depart :  — 

"Lekve  thou  our  Bwana  in  fatura  alone. 
And  oeek  thjaeU,  gander,  a  piom." 

Act  II.  After  an  agitated  introduction  by  the  orches- 
tra the  spectator  finds  himself  transferred  to  Klingsor's 
magic  castle  —  at  first  in  the  inside  of  a  tower  open  at 
its  top.  Magic  implements  are  scattered  about  every- 
where. Klingsor  summons  Knndry  by  lighting  a  bluish 
Same  in  the  background  of  the  stage.  When  Kundiy 
appears  he  commands  her,  in  spite  of  her  pitiful  protests, 
to  use  her  beauty  and  persuasiveness  to  ruin  Parsifal, 
who  is  already  seen  by  him  approaching  the  castle.  He 
calls  out  to  the  knights  to  defend  themselves,  but  Parsi- 
fal soon  puts  them  all  to  flight.  The  tower  now  slowly 
sinks  out  of  sight,  and  its  place  is  taken  by  a  magic  gar- 
den full  of  tropical  vegetation  and  the  most  luxuriant 
large  Sowers.  A  number  of  beautiful  damsels  in  light 
attire  rush  on  the  stage  and  bewail  the  loss  of  their  play- 
mates, untU  they  behold  Parsifiil.    While  aoiae  flirt 


410  TOE  PABSIFAL  PERIOD 

about  him,  othere  disappear  in  an  arbor,  whence  they 
Boon  return  arrayed  in  flowers,  looking  like  living  flowers 
themselves.  Farsifal  takes  at  first  a  childish  delight  in 
the  spectacle  of  all  this  alluring  beauty,  but  remains 
unmoved  and  unyielding,  when  presently  Kundry's  voice 
is  heard  calling  out  hia  name,  "Parsifal,  remain!"  The 
flower-girls  reluctantly  retire,  not  without  a  parting  fling 
at  the  "guileless  fool,"  who  is  now  at  the  mercy  of 
Kuudry'a  charms.  With  true  feminine  art  she  wins  his 
confidence  by  telling  nf  the  last  moments  of  his  mother. 
Parsifal,  overcome  with  grief,  sinks  down  at  her  feet, 
when  she  raises  his  head,  and  gives  him  his  mother's 
last  greeting  and  the  first  long  kiss  of  love.  With  an 
expression  of  consternation,  Parsifal  jumps  to  hia  feet, 
and  pushes  Kundry  away.  Her  kiss  makes  him  clair- 
voyant: like  a  sudden  pang,  it  gives  him  a  presentiment 
of  Amfortaa's  sufferings,  and  at  once  the  whole  situation 
dawns  on  him.  Hitherto  he  has  only  been  the  "  guile- 
less fool ";  now  he  is  also,  "through  pity  enlightened." 
Kundry  refuses  to  listen  to  his  esplanation  that  to  grant 
her  his  love  would  condemn  lier  to  a  new  lease  of  her 
wretched  existence.  She  invokes  a  curse  on  him  —  a 
curse  wliich  shall  compel  him  to  go  about  the  world 
searching  in  vain  for  King  Amfortas.  Her  cries  summon 
Klingsor  to  the  castle  wall,  whence  he  hurls  Amfortas's 
holy  spear  at  him.  The  spear  remains  suspended  over 
the  head  of  Parsifal,  who  seizes  it  and  describes  the 
shape  of  a  cross.  Instantaneously,  as  through  an  earth- 
quake, the  castle  vanishes;  the  garden  is  transformed 
into  a  desert,  and  the  maidens  lie  as  withered  flowers  on 
the  ground.  Kundry  with  a  shriek,  sinks  into  a  swoon, 
and  Parsifal,  before  he  hastens  away,  turns  to  exclaim, 
"  Thou  knowest  where  alone  we  shall  meet  again ! " 


BTOBT  OF  PABBIFAL  411 

Act  m.  When  the  curtain  parts  again,  after  a  weird 
and  sad  introduction  of  great  beauty,  depicting  Farsifal'a 
long  and  fruitless  searoh  for  the  Grail,  in  consequence  of 
Sundry's  curse,  we  see  a  smiling  meadow  at  the  borders 
of  a  forest ;  in  the  background  a  simple  hermit's  hat.  It 
belongs  to  Gomemanz,  who  now  appears  as  a  very  old 
man.  Strange,  mournful  sounds,  proceeding  from  behind 
a  bnsh,  induce  him  to  search  for  their  cause.  It  is 
Kundry,  now  again  the  simple,  homely  servant  of  the 
Grail,  and  no  longer  the  fascinating  queen  of  Klingsor's 
dower  garden.  She  is  disinclined  to  apeak,  but  goes  into 
the  hut  to  work.  Looking  about  him,  Gumemanz  espies 
a  knight  in  full  armor  approaching.  He  bids  him  respect 
the  laws  of  this  holy  place,  which  forbid  any  one  to  beat 
arms  on  Good  Friday.  Parsifal  complies,  and  Gume- 
manz now  recognizes  him,  as  well  as  the  holy  spear,  at 
sight  of  which  be  breaks  forth  in  joyous  exclamations, 
heralding  the  King's  release  from  his  torments  —  for 
only  then  can  his  wounds  be  closed  when  they  are  touched 
by  the  "  guileless  fool "  with  the  same  spear  that  inflicted 
them.  Gumemanz  relates  how,  since  Parsifal's  depart- 
ure, the  knights  have  been  deprived  of  the  blessing  of 
the  Grail,  since  the  King  refused  to  uncover  it — hoping 
thus  to  starve  out  his  life  even  as  Tituiel's  was  extin- 
guished after  long  privation.  Parsifal,  who  considers 
himself  guilty  for  not  having  found  the  Grail  sooner, 
is  so  moved  by  this  revelation  that  he  almost  faints. 
Kundry  hastens  for  a  basin  of  water.  She  washes  his 
feet,  pours  oil  on  them  from  a  golden  fiask,  and  dries 
them  with  her  long  dark  tresses.  Then  Gumemanz 
poors  the  oil  on  his  head,  and  anoints  him  as  King; 
whereupon  Parsifal  fulfils  his  first  duty  by  baptizing 


412  TBE  PARSIFAL   PERIOD 

Kundry.  Henowdesires  to  be  led  to  Amfortaa;  Gume- 
manz  liaa  told  biro  that  on  that  day  the  Grail  once  more 
waa  to  be  unveiled.  The  scene  changes  back  to  the  hall 
of  the  Grailsbwrg.  Two  proceaalona  of  knights  again 
appear,  one  with  Amfortas  on  his  litter,  the  other  with 
Titurel's  bier,  accompanied  by  the  Btraina  of  a  majestic 
funeral  march.  Amfortas  refuses  to  perform  his  task  — 
to  be  once  more  brought  back  to  painful  life  from  the 
briuk  of  death.  He  tears  open  his  bandages  and  begs 
hia  companions  to  kill  him,  when  ParaifaJ  appears  and 
tOHchea  the  wound  with  bis  healing  spear,  the  point  of 
which  glows  blood-red.  He  then  takes  the  Grail  in  hia 
hand,  while  a  halo  of  light  is  shed  over  all.  A  dove 
descenda  and  hovers  over  hia  head.  Kundry  sinks  slowly 
to  tlie  ground;  lifeless;  Amfortas  and  Gurneraanz  do 
homage  on  their  knees  to  Parsifal,  while  the  voices  in 
the  cupola  almost  inaudibly  chant  the  miracle  of  redemp- 
tion. 

POETIC,   PICTORIAL,   AND  MUSICAL   FEATURES 

Parsifal  again  opens  a  new  phase  of  Wagner's  art. 
Lohengrin,  is  a  romantic  o[)era,  Tristan  a  music-drama, 
or  "  action  " ;  the  Nibelung's  Ring  was  entitled  a  "  stage- 
festival -play, "  while  Parsifal  was  baptized  as  a  "stage- 
consecrating-featival-play "  (Biihnemceihfestspiet).  The 
title  explains  itself :  while  the  muaic-drama  had  driven 
unsBsthetic  absurdities  from  the  opera,  Parsifal  conse- 
crates the  theatre,  and  converts  it  into  a  Temple  of  Art. 
Rubinstein's  idea  of  a  sacred  opera,  or  an  oratorio  with 
action  and  scenery,  is  here  realized  with  a  grandeur  which 
be  himself  was  very  far  from  attaining  in  his  Tower  of 
Babel  and  Paradise  Lost.     Of  course  Wagner  did  not  get 


POETIC,  PICTOBIAL,  MUSICAL  FEATURES    418 

his  idea  from  Rubinstein.  His  Jesus  of  Nazareth  scheme  * 
dates  back  as  far  as  1848,  and  this  scheme  became  the 
poetic  nucleus  of  Parsifal.  In  it  we  find  especially 
emphasized  the  eagerness  of  Magdalena  (Kundry)  to 
serve,  by  way  of  atoning  for  her  sins.  The  scene  of  the 
foot-washing  also  occurs  in  this  sketch.  By  transferring 
these  biblical  scenes  to  the  mystic  regions  of  mythology, 
he  made  them  available  for  theatric  purposes.  Even 
thus,  there  were  critics  at  Bayreuth  who  denounced 
them  as  "  blasphemous  " ;  but  the  vast  majority  took  a 
more  liberal  and  reasonable  view.  The  London  Athe- 
noRum  put  the  matter  in  a  nutshell  when  it  said  that  — 

**  nobody  finds  any  impropriety  in  looking  at  a  painting  of  the 
Last  Supper,  nor  in  listening  to  the  words  of  Christ  as  set  to  music 
by  Bach  in  his  Passion  according  to  St.  Matthew.  Wagner  has  in 
the  first  act  of  Parsifal  combined  the  two  arts.'*  **So  deeply 
reverent  was  the  spirit  of  all  the  i>erfonner8,  that  the  remark  was 
made  by  many  who  were  present  that  the  scene  was  the  most  im- 
pressive religious  service. they  had  ever  attended.^'  **  None  of  the 
many  thousands  who  have  attended  the  Passion  Play  need  fear  any 
violence  being  done  to  their  religious  feelings  by  the  i>erformances 
ot  Parsifal.'' ^ 

Besides  the  projected  Jesus  of  Nazareth  drama,  there 
were  various  epic  and  legendary  sources  from  which  the 

1  Published  in  a  small  volume  by  Breitkopf  and  Hartel.  See  Vol.  I. 
page  227. 

'^  Similar  sentiments  were  expressed  by  the  London  Times,  Academy, 
Saturday  Review  (which  spoke  of  the  Uebesmahl  scene  as  "most 
reverent  and  earnestly  impressive  "),  and  other  papers.  Nevertheless, 
all  these  papers  agreed  that  Parsifal  could  not  be  produced  on  the 
London  stage.  English  logic  in  this  matter  is  very  peculiar.  On  the 
concert  or  oratorio  stage  biblical  personages  may  appear  in  dress-coat 
and  kid-gloves  to  sing  those  love-songs  which  Handel  transferred  from 
his  worldly  operas  to  his  oratorios;  but  they  may  not  appear  on  the 
dramatic  stage  to  enact  a  play  to  which  at  Bayreuth  the  devout  and 
the  agnostic  alike  rendered  homage. 


414  TBK  PARSIF.AL  PBBIOD 

poet  of  Parsifal  borrowed  incidents  and  suggestions; 
foremost  among  them  being  Wolfram  von  Eschenbach's 
famous  epic'  One  very  interestiDg  source  has  been 
usually  overlooked  ;  namely,  Eouraouf  s  Introduction  A 
rkistoire  du  Buddhiiiae  Indien,  which  contains  (183-187) 
a  Buddhist  tale  that  suggested  to  Wagner,  in  1856,  the 
plan  of  a  drama  to  be  entitled  Der  Sieger  (The  Victor). 
In  the  letters  to  Liszt  of  that  year  there  are  two  refer- 
ences to  this  project,  in  one  of  which  (July  20)  he  prom- 
ises his  friend  that  after  digesting  Tristan,  he  would 
perhaps  receive  a  communication  regarding  Der  Sieger, 
"  the  idea  of  which  I  have  indued  carried  about  me  for  a 
long  time,  while  the  material  for  its  embodiment  has  ju^ 
now  come  upon  me  like  a  flash  of  lightning,  perfectly 
clear  to  myself,  but  not  yet  sufficiently  so  for  eominn- 
nication."  On  May  20  he  had  written  down  a  rough 
sketch,'  in  which  Ghakya-Muni,  Ananda,  and  Frakriti 
occur  as  characters.  Ghakya-Muni  becomes  a  Buddha  by 
being  like  Parsifal,  "through  pity  enlightened."  More- 
over, when  we  find  in  these  tales  of  old  India  the  inci- 
dent of  the  spear  thrown  by  Mara  (Klingsor)  remaining 

>  For  detailed  comparisooa  see  Muncker,  120;  HueRer,  110;  Bafi- 
rtulher  Blatter.  1X91,  No,  1.  On  the  leftend  of  tbe  Grsll  there  are  hat[ 
a  dozen  books  in  Oerman  alone.  Thematic  k*i><1^  I^  the  Parii/al  »core 
have  been  written  by  WolzoKeu  (tenth  edition,  1892),  Heintz,  Elchberg. 
and  Kobbe.  The  moat  complete  and  valuable  treatise  on  Partl/al  Is 
that  by  Kiifterath,  vliieh  conaiders  the  legendary  sources,  the  poem, 
and  tbe  muaic  trom  all  points  ot  view.  Tbe  Rev.  H.  R.  Hawels  hsa  an 
eloqiieat  cbapter  on  Partifal  in  his  Mutical  ifemories.  Bat  the  most 
lasciiiatini:  account  for  lay  readers  Is  tbat  written  by  Mr.  Charles  Dudlejr 
Warner  I  Atlantic  Monthl;/,  January,  1883,  reprinted  In  A  Soundabotit 
Jovntt!/) ;  this  article  Is  also  valuable  as  sbowing  what  a  profonnd 
Impression  Wagner's  art-work  is  capable  of  producing  on  a  mind  o(  the 
highest  type  tbat  yet  claims  no  special  knowledge  of  music 

*  Reprinted  In  the  postbnmoua  Entmiir/e,  Fragmenit,  Me.,  pp.  97, 


POETIC,  PICTORIAL,  MUSICAL  FEATURES    416 

suspended  in  the  air,  as  well  as  the  bevy  of  beautiful 
decoy  maidens,  we  are  led  to  the  conclusion  that  some 
of  the  incidents  intended  for  the  Sieger  drama  were 
incorporated  in  Parsifal. 

The  mental  alchemy  known  as  genius  enabled  Wagner 
to  fuse  these  diverse  Christian  and  Buddhist  elements 
into  a  drama,  from  which  all  epic  and  superfluous  matter 
is  eliminated,  while  the  action,  concentrated  and  con- 
catenated, is  given  theatric  prominence,  and  the  charac- 
ters are  deepened  into  problems  for  psychologic  analysis. 
Extensive  as  the  Parsifal  literature  is  already,  many 
more  essays  and  pamphlets  will  be  written  about  the 
strange  characters  brought  together  in  this  drama.  The 
only  one  of  them  that  seems  to  belong  to  the  everyday 
world  is  Qumemanz,  the  genial  and  lovable  old  knight^ 
who  wins  every  one's  heart  by  his  actions,  words,  and 
flowing,  cordial  song.  The  unhappy  Amfortas,  a  modem 
Philoctetes,  appeals  to  our  pity,  even  as  the  wounded 
Tristan.  Klingsor  is  an  utterly  unoperatic  character, 
such  as  only  the  flull-fledged  music-drama  could  nurture. 
His  song  and  its  accompaniment  is  savage  and  dissonant 
like  his  character  —  to  the  annoyance  of  those  who  seek 
only  sweetmeats  in  music,  to  the  delight  of  the  true 
fiBsthetic  epicure,  who  believes  that  angry  sentiments 
should  be  expressed  in  angry  tones,  in  the  music-drama 
as  well  as  in  the  literary  drama.  Absolutely  incon- 
ceivable in  a"prima-donna  opera"  is  Kundry,  the  only 
female  character  in  the  drama.  Only  in  the  second  act 
is  she  allowed  to  affect  beautiful  song;  in  the  first  there 
is  little  but  abrupt  declamation  and  interjection,  while  in 
the  third  she  is  condemned  to  complete  silence,  a  few 
inarticulate  sounds  excepted.    Yet  when  impersonated 


i 


416  THE  PABSIFAL  PEBIOD 

by  a  skilled  actress,  like  Materna,  Brandt,  or  Malten,  how 
effective  thia  rBle  ia,  with  its  stninge  psychic  transforma- 
tions from  the  bearer  of  a  personal  curse,  to  the  submis- 
sive servant  of  the  Grail,  and  again  to  the  lovely,  alluring 
slave  of  Klingsor.  How  much  more  eloquent  her  silence 
in  the  last  act,  than  an  aria  di  bravura  would  be  —  unless 
we  came  to  the  theatre  for  music  alone,  in  which  case  we 
should  have  gone  to  the  conoert-hall. '  The  author  of 
SoUenbrenghel  ala  Erzieker,  which  made  such  a  sensation 
in  Germany  a  fewye^ra  ago,  has  advanced*  an  ingenious 
theory  of  accounting  for  Kundry's  subjection  to  Kling- 
sor'a  will,  and  her  hysterical  actions  in  general,  by  mak- 
ing bcr  a  victim  of  hypnotism,  or  mesmerism,  as  practised 
by  the  fakirs  of  India  and  by  modem  physiologists  alike. 
Looked  at  in  this  light,  what  is  more  scientific  and  mod- 
em than  myth?  The  hypnotic  theory  fits  Kundry  mar- 
Tellously  in  every  detail. 

The  hero  of  thia  tragedy  partakes  of  the  characteristics 
of  Lohengrin  and  Siegfried.  His  mission  is  to  alleviate 
distress,  to  bring  redemption.  Eeared  in  a  lonely  forest, 
ignorant  of  the  world,  he  has  Siegfried's  nai'vet^,  as  well 
as  that  hero's  dauntless  courage,  as  evinced  in  the  con- 

1  Ad  ideal  Kundry  <s  difficult  to  And,  i.e.  one  wlio  conblnea  tbe 
beauty  called  for  Id  the  second  act  with  the  bistrionic  talent  required 
in  tbe  first  and  aecnnd  actn.  In  case  of  doubl,  it  ia  better  to  Bacriflce 
tbe  beaut; ;  at  least  Warner  seemed  lo  tbink  so.  When  be  invited  FrI. 
Brandt  to  be  one  of  tbe  Kundrys,  she  was  delighted,  but  eipressed 
doubts  of  her  fitnefis,  on  aceuuut  of  tbe  directious.  "  Kundry,  a  youDg 
woman  ot  the  Kreatest  beauty."  "Never  mind  the  beauty,"  inter- 
nipteit  the  Meister:  "  I  need  a  clever  actress,  and  that  you  are ;  coa- 
metic  will  make  up  tbe  rest." 

»  Bayrenther  Fanfaren,  von  Ferdinand  Pfohl,  an  eicellent  brochure 
on  the  later  Bayreuth  teativala,  with  many  admirable  remarki  on  Par~ 
»ifttt,  Triitan,  and  Mtitlertinger.  Every  collector  □[  Wagner  books 
•hould  have  thU  one. 


POETIC,  PICTOBIAL,  MUSICAL  FEATURES    417 

test  with  tli# knights  in  Klingsor's  garden.  His  ''tragic 
guilt "  lies  in  his  ignorance  of  compassion^  of  pity,  the 
highest  of  all  moral  attributes.  He  first  shows  his  lack 
of  pity  by  wantonly  killing  the  sacred  swan;  he  shows 
it  again  by  remaining  an  unmoved  spectator  of  the 
wounded  King's  distress.  The  psychic  climax  of  the 
tragedy  lies  in  the  moment  when  Pity  first  enlightens 
his  soul  —  when  Kundry's  long  kiss  makes  him  clair- 
voyant, and  the  voluptuous  feeling  is  suddenly  changed 
to  a  pang  of  bitter  pain  as  the  King's  fate  and  suffering 
dawn  on  him  through  his  new-bom  sense  of  compassion. 
In  making  this  change  in  Parsifal's  character  spring 
from  the  suddenly  acquired  sense  of  pity,  Wagner  fol- 
lows Schopenhauer,  who  declares*  that  "pity  alone  is 
the  true  basis  of  all  free  justice  and  all  genuine  humanity. 
Only  in  so  far  as  an  action  springs  from  it  has  it  a  moral 
value."  It  is  ridiculous,  however,  to  say,  for  this  reason, 
as  some  of  the  commentators  have  done,  that  Parsifal  *  is 
"  Schopenhauer  set  to  music."  Pity  —  for  men  and  ani- 
mals—  is  the  basis  of  Buddhistic  ethics,  and  is  not 
entirely  unknown  in  Christian  ethics.  Schopenhauer's 
part  in  this  matter  was  simply  this,  that  he  emphasized 
the  importance  of  Pity,  especially  also  as  including 
animals.     Wagner  was  too  good  a  dramatist  to  set  Scho- 

1  Orundlage  der  MonUt  p.  206. 

s  There  has  been  a  great  deal  of  superflaous  and  pedantic  disooadon 
as  to  the  etymology  of  *'  Parsifal.''  Wagner  followed  Gorres  in  deriy- 
ing  the  word  from  the  Arabic  Parsi  Fal^  the  pore  fool.  W.  Herts 
objected  that  there  is  no  Arabic  word  Fal  meaning  fooL  Eichberg 
points  out  that  in  the  Ck>mi8h  language  par  means  fellow,  and  faU 
simple-minded.  Bat  whether  Arabic,  Cornish,  Chinese,  or  Volapiik, 
what  difference  does  it  make  ?  Parsifal  is  a  dramatic  poem,  not  a 
philological  essay,  and  a  dramatic  poet  is  not  bound  by  the  laws  of 
etymology ;  he  may  give  Bohemia  a  searcoast  if  he  chooses. 


i 


418  TBB  PARSIFAL  PBBIOD  M 

peuliauer  or  any  other  philosopher  to  nmsie.  There  is  a 
philosophic  background  to  his  dramas,  but  that  is  a  mat- 
ter for  private  study  of  the  poem,  and  does  uot  obtrude 
itself  oil  the  stage. 

To  the  vast  majority  of  apectatora,  Par»ifal  appeals 
primarily  or  solely  as  a  pictorial  drauia  with  music,  and 
as  such  it  has  few  equals.  The  structure  of  the  plot  is 
esceediagly  ingenious,  betraying  in  every  detail  the 
master  hand  which  had  gained  its  cunning  by  life-long 
theatric  practice.  The  tableaux  are  among  the 
beautiful  ever  conceived  by  human  imagination:  the 
opening  scene,  Gumemanz  and  bis  esquires  asleep  under 
the  spreading  tree;  the  pi'ocession  with  the  wounded 
King  on  a  litter;  the  group  over  the  expiring  swan;  the 
marvellous  transformation  scene,  where,  as  Parsifal  and 
Guruemanz  appear  to  be  walking,  the  forest  graduaJly 
disappears,  a  cave  opens  in  rocky  cliffs,  and  conceals 
them  for  a  moment,  whereupon  they  appear  as  if  going 
up  a  slope  until,  amid  the  peals  of  bells,  they  enter  the 
mighty  hall,  with  light  streaming  in  from  the  vaulted 
dome;  in  the  second  act,  the  gruesome  scene  in  Kling- 
sor's  tower,  forming  a  striking  contrast  to  the  lovely 
groupings  of  tlie  flower-maidens  which  follow;  the  spear 
suspended  over  Parsifal's  head;  the  startling  collapse 
and  change  from  the  gaudy  flower-garden  to  the  bare 
stage  with  bleak  mountains  in  the  background;  in  the 
third  act  the  flower-meadow;  Parsifal's  return ;  the  foot- 
washing  and  baptism ;  and,  to  crown  all,  the  final  tableau 
—  tlie  knights  in  red  and  blue  robes  seated  at  two  semi- 
circular tables  bowing  reverently  as  their  new  King 
Parsifal  uncovers  the  crystal  cup,  and  gently  swings  it 
about,  while  a  blinding  ray  of  light  shoots  down  and 


I 


POETIC,  PICTORIAL,  MUSICAL  FEATURES    419 

makes  it  grow  with  increasing  crimson  liistre,  and  the 
dove  descends  and  hovers  over  his  head,  —  all  these 
scenes  are  the  emanations  of  superlative  pictorial  genius. 
The  Grerman  commentator  who  exclaimed  that  the  pos- 
sibility of  such  scenes  presupposed  the  entire  develop- 
ment of  the  Christian  art  of  painting,  may  have  been 
carried  oS.  his  feet  by  his  enthusiasm;  but  it  is  certain 
that  the  scenes  mentioned,  if  fixed  by  instantaneous 
photography,  and  engraved,  would  make  pictures  of 
which  Leonardo,  Baphael,  and  Makart  might  be  proud.  ^ 
The  vivid  conciseness  with  which  these  scenes  are 
sketched  in  the  poem  is  truly  admirable. 

To  one  of  the  scenes  objection  was  made  by  many 
impartial  judges,  namely,  to  the  monstrous  size  and 
gaudy  colors  of  the  tropical  flowers  in  the  second  act. 
Yet  Wagner  had  his  reason  for  letting  the  artist  Jou- 
kowsky  design  this  scene  as  it  was.  He  says  (X.  390) 
in  regard  to  the  costumes,  that 

*^  they  had  to  be  devised  in  hannony  with  Klingsor^s  magic  garden, 
and  we  had  to  make  many  experiments  before  we  were  satisfied 
that  we  had  decided  upon  the  correct  pattern  for  a  floral  phenom- 
enon not  to  be  found  in  actual  life — maidens  that  seemed  to  have 
naturally  sprung  from  these  wizard-flowers.** 

I  The  scenic  problems  offered  in  Wagner's  dramas,  notably  in  Par^ 
sifcUf  were  hard  nuts  for  the  carpenters  and  machinists  to  crack,  and 
mark  a  new  era  in  their  art.  The  (apparent)  walk  throogh  the  chang- 
ing scenic  panorama  was  an  absolutely  noyel  effect  and  problem,  while 
the  sudden  change  from  flower-garden  to  desert  is  even  more  startling 
than  that  from  the  grotto  of  Venus  to  the  Wartbnrg  valley  in  TanU' 
h&uaer.  Some  of  these  scenic  features  call  for  the  latest  sdentiflo 
appliances;  the  gradual  glowing  of  the  cup,  for  instance,  which  is 
effected  by  means  of  two  fine  wires  attached  to  the  cup  (invisible  to 
the  spectator),  converting  the  Grail  into  an  incandescent  electric  lamp. 
The  floating  spear  is  attached  to  a  wire  by  rings  and  thin  threads  which 
easily  snap  when  Parsifal  seizes  the  weapon. 


420  THE  PARSIFAL  PERIOD 

To  which  I  may  add  that  the  optical  illusioa  resulU 
from  the  enornious  size  and  the  bright  colors  of  thee 
"  Spanish "  flowers  was  Biich  that  the  buxom  Gen 
flower-maiden 3  seemed  transformed  into  petite  Andala—I 
sian  damsels,  and  gave  a  fairy-like,  mythical  aspect  to  T 
the  whole  scene  such  as  we  should  expect  in  a  sorcerer"*  , 
garden.  The  tropical  size  and  luxuriance  of  the  flowers  ' 
also  intensified  the  contrast  with  the  bleak  desert  into  J 
which  the  garden  is  suddenly  transformed  when  Parsifal  ' 
swings  his  sacred  spear,  and  breaks  the  spell  of  Kling-  j 
sor's  power;  and  a  third  reason  for  the  size  of  the  flowen 
is  given  in  this  stage  direction.  "The  girls  lie  scattered  I 
on  the  ground  like  withered  flowers." 

Never,  surely,  has  a  dramatist  sketched  scenes  and  t 
incidents  which  more  urgently  invoked  the  cooperation 
of  music  than  these.  Only  a  musician  could  have  writ- 
ten this  poem,  only  a  poet  set  it  to  music.  In  one  respect, 
at  least,  Parsifal  is  the  most  perfect  of  Wagner's  music- 
dramas.  With  the  exception  of  the  Good  Friday  spell 
and  the  chorus  of  flower-girls  there  is  hardly  a  page 
which  can  be  transferred  to  the  concert-hall  without 
excessive  detriment,  and  even  those  two  scenes  lose  half 
their  charm  if  severed  from  their  stage  surroundings, 
and  from  the  music  which  precedes  and  follows  them. 
From  the  concert-giver's  point  of  view  this  will  seem  a 
shortcoming;  but  Parsifal  was  not  written  for  concert- 
givers.     As  Dr.  Riemann  has  remarked, 

"  Wagner's  music  is  not  intended  to  be  effective  by  itself,  but  only 
in  connection  witli  the  poem  and  scenery.  He  dispenaea  with  cheap 
musical  effects  in  favor  of  a  harmonious  structure  of  the  dramatico- 
musical  art-work.  He  who  fails  Ui  see  the  grandeur  of  this  idea  is 
bejond  help." 


POETIC,  PICTORIAL,  MUSICAL  FEATURES    421 

An  exoellent  illustration,  showing  how  marvellously 
the  dramatic  action  and  scene  heighten  the  power  of 
music,  may  be  found  in  the  moment  when  Klingsor  hurls 
his  spear  at  Parsifal.  As  it  flies  through  the  air,  the 
orchestra  is  hushed,  excepting  the  harps,  which  play  a 
rapid  glissando  run  up  through  three  octaves.  In  the 
concert-hall  this  would  seem  an  ordinary  trick  of  virtu- 
osity, whereas  in  the  drama  every  one  is  thrilled  by  the 
appropriateness  of  this  simple  musical  accompaniment 
of  the  flying  spear. 

ParsifoU  has  three  orchestral  preludes, — three  of  those 
admirable  mood-pictures  which  are  intended  to  put  the 
hearer  in  the  proper  frame  of  mind  for  the  coming  events, 
and  are  therefore  as  much  out  of  place  in  the  concert-hall 
as  those  parts  where  the  orchestra  is  associated  with  the 
dramatic  vocalism.  The  prelude  to  the  first  act  gives  us 
a  foretaste  of  the  solemn  and  ecstatic  emotions  inspired 
by  the  Grail,  and  of  the  sorrows  of  the  sinful  Amfortas. 
Love,  Faith,  and  Hope  are  its  themes,^  and  it  is  built  up 
principally  of  the  Holy  Supper,  the  Grail,  and  the  Faith 
motives,  which  recur  so  often  in  course  of  the  drama. 

Of  the  numerous  passages  in  the  first  act  which  invite 
discussion,  only  a  few  can  be  referred  to  here;  and  as 
the  testimony  of  an  entire  or  partial  convert  has  often 
more  force  than  the  eulogy  of  a  champion,  let  us  see 
what  Ehlert  has  to  say  about  one  of  these  —  Gumemanz's 
long  monologue,  in  which  we  get  the  exposition  of  the 
drama.  Ehlert  denies  that  this  scene  is  too  long,  as 
some  had  said:  — 

**  How  perfectly  these  seemingly  innomerable  instramento  de- 
scribe the  case,  just  as  in  a  parliamentary  debate  where  each  mem- 

1  See  Wagner's  own  analysis  of  this  prelnde  in  ErUwUr/e,  etc.,  pp. 
106, 107. 


422  TBB  PARSIFAL  FEBIOD 


I 


ber  speska  from  his  ovn  seat !  How  well  tbefte  moUTes,  eepeclAlly 
Klingsnr'E  wizard -motive,  phonograpb  the  subject,  ao  to  say,  until 
one  ireiM  to  be  lialening,  not  to  tonet,  but  to  dutinct  uorrfo.i  This 
may  be  long,  but  it  is  Dot  long-Bpun." 

One  of  the  most  touching  episodes  in  this  act  is  the 
commotion  following  the  shooting  of  the  swan.  Whila 
one  of  the  young  knights  draws  the  arrow  from  the  dying 
bird's  breast,  Gumemanz  bitterly  reproaches  Paislfal :  — 

"Unheard-of  deed!  How  could  you  murder  hito — here  in  tha 
sacred  forest,  where  peace  and  pity  sboald  prevail  ?  Did  not  Uia 
animals  oE  the  grove  approach  and  greet  you  confidingly  ?  Did  not 
the  birds  sing  to  you  from  the  branches  ?  What  grudge  had  job 
against  tbe  poor  swan  ?  He  was  only  seeking  his  mate,  circling 
over  the  lake,  which  thus  he  consecrated  for  the  King's  bath.  Thift 
<lid  not  move  you,  but  only  aroused  the  childish  desire  to  kill? 
Tlic  swnii  was  dear  to  lis;  what  la  he  now  to  you  ?  Here  —  look 
and  see  where  you  hit  him ;  see  the  white  plumes  stained  by  the 
dark  blood ;  see  his  wiogs  collapsed  ;  the  broken  glance  —  do  yoa 
see  that  eye?  Are  you  now  conscious  of  your  sin?  Say,  boy, 
do  you  understand  your  guilt  ?     How  could  you  incur  it  ?  " 

I  am  convinced  that  many  a  thoughtless  hunter  of 
harmless  animals,  could  he  read  this  poem,  which  even 
in  a  prose  translation  is  so  affecting,  would,  like  Parsifal, 
break  his  bow  and  cast  his  arrows  from  him.  In  that 
"  broken  glance  "  we  have  again  a  reminiscence  of  the 
one  animal  that  Wagner  killed  as  a  youth.  We  hear, 
also,  in  the  orchestra,  a  musical  reminiscence  of  the 
Lohenrjrin  swan-harmonies,  sad  and  broken.  There  la 
nothing  in  all  dramatic  literature  more  realistic,  more 
pitiable  and  pathetic,  than  this  swan  scene  in  Parsifal. 

1  The  line  which  I  have  italiciied  indioateB  that  Ehlsrt  had  suddenly 
seen  a  great  light  regarding  the  dramatic  value  of  Leading  Hotivee. 
It  is  npver  tne  late  Co  learn.  It  was  on  account  of  this  definite  orches- 
tral and  emotional  eloquence  that  Wagner  made  use  of  Leading  Hotlvat. 


I 


POETIC,  PICTOBIAL,  MUSICAL  FEATURES    428 

Another  emotional  climax  in  this  act  is  the  panoramic 
change  of  scenery,  with  its  swelling  waves  of  orchestral 
sound,  in  which  various  motives  of  reminiscence  and 
anticipation  are  stirringly  interwoven;  so  stirringly  that 
even  the  hostile  pen  of  Ludwig  Speidel  was  impelled  to 
write  that,  '^  on  hearing  this  music,  one  is  vividly  im- 
pressed by  the  feeling  that  something  momentous  must 
be  happening  in  the  world."  ^ 

Of  the  religious  sublimity  of  the  closing  scene  of  this 
act  and  of  the  last,  printer's  ink  can  convey  no  shadow 
of  an  idea.  The  solemn  pealing  of  the  bells,  the  devout 
chant  of  the  knights,  taken  up  by  an  invisible  chorus  of 
youths  half-way  up  the  cupola,  and  finally  by  boys'  voices 
at  the  extreme  height  of  the  cupola;  then  the  unveiling 
and  glowing  of  the  Grail  amid  a  halo  of  exquisite  orches- 
tral harmonies,  — all  this  cannot  be  described.*  It  is  of 
interest  to  note  that  in  the  three-storied  arrangement  of 

1  Future  writers  of  music-dramas,  if  convicted  of  blundering,  will 
perhaps  derive  consolation  from  the  fact  that  the  greatest  stage-mana- 
ger the  world  has  ever  seen  made  a  miscalculation  in  his  last  and  most 
mature  work.  The  panoramic  music  in  the  first  act  was  found  too 
short,  and  repeats  had  to  be  introduced.  In  the  third  act  the  music 
was  left  as  it  was,  but  the  shifting  scene  was  omitted.  One  of  the 
things  that  occupied  Wagner's  mind  in  the  last  months  of  his  life  was 
the  preparation  of  a  new  and  correct  setting  for  this  scene.  There  were 
other  things  in  Parsifal  in  the  nature  of  experiments.  Titurel  was 
left  silent  in  the  last  act ;  the  color  of  the  knights'  costume  was  long  in 
doubt,  blue  and  red  being  finally  decided  upon.  The  tricots  worn  by 
the  flower-girls  showed  their  toes,  which  shocked  a  Berlin  critic,  who 
confessed  he  had  never  before  seen  a  female  foot,  and  that  he  was  dis- 
appointed in  his  expectations!  No  doubt  Wagner  blundered  in  not 
importing  Andalnsian  fiower-girls,  as  called  for  by  the  plot! 

>  The  bells,  unfortunately,  were  a  failure  at  the  first  Pargifal  Festi- 
val. Their  sound  was  to  be  produced  by  a  kind  of  specially  oonBtmcted 
hammer-clavier.  At  later  Festivals  a  great  improvement  was  effected 
by  combining  the  sounds  of  tam-tams  with  piano-strings,  consisting 
each  of  six  of  the  strongest  strings  twisted  together;  bat  absolute 
illusion  has  not  yet  been  reached  in  this  respect. 


424  TBE  PARSIFAL  PERIOD 

the  eiioms,  Wagner  reverted  to  an  idea  which,  as  we  saw 
in  a  previous  chapter,  he  employed  at  a  performance  of 
his  early  choral  work,  The  Love  Feast  of  the  Aposilea. 

"  Two  solemn  services  of  the  Roman  Catholic  Church 
with  an  ALhambra  ballet  separating  one  from  the  other," 
is  the  definition  of  Parsifal  given  by  a  flippant  English 
journalist.  Paul  Lindau  more  poetically  compares  this 
mihmge  of  piety  with  sensuality  to  a  mingling  of  incense 
with  the  perfume  of  roaes.  But  even  within  the  second 
act  itself  the  dramatic  contrasts  have  the  vividness  which 
Wagner  alone  had  at  his  command:  the  agitated  prelude 
leading  to  the  gruesome  wizard-discords  and  the  hypno- 
tization  of  the  hysterical  Kundry,  followed  by  the  seduc- 
tive aenaualiam  of  the  flower-garden  flirtation-  This 
decoy  song  of  the  flower-maidens  —  is  there  anything  in 
music  to  equal  its  sensuous  charm?  It  is  as  fresh  and 
spontaneous  as  the  seductive  chorus  of  the  sirens  in 
Tannhduser,  and  that  of  the  Rhine-maidens  in  the  first 
and  last  of  the  Nibeiujig  dramas;  it  is  at  the  same  time  a 
marvel  of  musical  construction.  Soloists  singing  alone, 
soloists  in  groups  of  three,  two  choruses  in  tliree-part 
harmony,  alternate  in  assailing  the  guileless  Parsifal, 
first  with  reproaches  for  killing  their  knightly  sweet- 
hearts, then,  as  his  attitude  dispels  their  fears,  all  striv- 
ing in  turn  to  win  his  favor  for  their  persona!  charms  by 
blandishing  words  and  caresses.  Their  song,  when  they 
have  disappeared  in  groups,  and  returned  attired  as 
flowers,  has  a  most  insinuating  grace,  suffused  with  an 
intoxicating  orchestral  fragrance.  And  the  most  remark- 
able thing  about  this  Oriental  scene  of  enticement  is  that 
there  is  not  a  trace  of  vulgarity  or  sensualism  in  the 
luring  flattery  of  the  flower-maidens;  we  are  in  Fairy- 


POETIC,  PICTORIAL,  MUSICAL  FEATUBE8    425 

land,  and  Elingsor's  houris  are  but  animated  flowers 
whose  love-making  is  as  innocent  as  the  flirtations  of 
butterflies  with  roses.  ^ 

After  this  bit  of  Oriental  polygamous  flirtation,  the 
temptress  Kundry  has  no  easy  task  to  conyince  Parsifal 
and  the  spectators  of  her  superior  charms.  The  specta- 
tors may  be  persuaded, — for  there  is  some  ravishing 
music  in  this  scene,  up  to  the  moment  of  the  long  kiss, 
—  but  Parsifal  does  not  even  succumb  to  the  artful  strata- 
gem with  which  Kundry  attempts  to  win  his  heart,  by 
offering  him  the  dangerous  kiss  of  love  in  the  guise  of 
his  mother's  dying  kiss,  to  be  delivered  by  her  lips.  It 
is  a  subtle  touch  of  amorous  psychology,  a  dramatic 
masterstroke. 

The  exquisite  prelude  to  the  third  act  depicts  Parsi- 
fal's long,  despairing  search  for  the  Grailsburg  imposed 
on  him  by  Kundry's  curse.  Desolation  and  despair 
constitute  the  prevailing  mood,  with  brief  reminiscences 
of  the  curse  and  the  maidens'  reproach,  and  a  ijrophetic 
allusion  to  Titurel's  funeral  music.  This  prelude  is  a 
marvel  of  delicate,  reflned  orchestration,  and  of  vivid 
mood-painting.  When  Parsifal  at  last  has  found  the 
Grail  and  appears  before  Gumemanz,  the  aged  knight 
does  not  at  once  know  him,  disguised  as  he  is  in  his 

1  See  Wmgner*8  own  remarks  (X.  384-0)  on  the  "chOdleh  nmtreU" 
of  this  scene,  "  far  removed  from  any  suggestion  of  sensnalitj  " ;  and 
secured,  partly,  by  "  eliminating  the  passionate  accents  which  nsnaUy 
break  throogh  aU  the  melodic  lines,"  in  favor  of  grace  and  eopbony. 
"  I  do  not  belicTe,"  he  adds  with  pardonable  pride,  "  that  any  other 
stage  has  ever  shown  snch  a  bewitching  exhibition  of  maidenly  grace 
in  song  and  action  as  onr  artistic  friends  prorided  in  this  scene."  He 
took  great  delight  in  this  episode,  for  which  he  had  secnntd  six  prima 
donnas,  with  a  special  choroa-master,  H.  VoKgm,  known  thencefartli  aa 
"BlomenTater." 


426  TBB  PARSIFAL  PSBIOD 


helmet;  but  the  spectator  knows  him,  for  he  recognizes 

the  accompanying  Parsifal  motive,  even  though  it  also  is 
disguised  in  minor  and  in  a  mysterious  color  suggesting 
the  Nibelung's  Tarahelmet.  The  rest  of  this  scene  is  a 
delicious  stream  of  uaintemipted  orehestral  and  vocal 
melody:  Parsifal's  aaointment,  with  Guraemanz's  de- 
vout blessing;  the  tender  redemption  of  Kundry;  and, 
above  all,  the  fragrant  flower-meadow  music,  the  "  Good 
Friday  Spell,"  which  has  even  invaded  the  concert-halls. 
The  poetic  idea  underlying  this  episode  is  as  beautiful 
as  the  music.  Parsifal,  after  he  has  baptized  Kundry, 
exclaims,  "How  fair  the  meadow  seema  to-day!"  and 
Gumemanz  explains  why,  on  this  day,  nature  smiles 
instead  of  sorrowing;  the  tears  of  repentant  sinners  have 
besprinkled  the  fields  with  holy  dew,  whereat  all  created 
beings  rejoice.  , 

Pealing  of  bells  is  heard  again;  Gumemanz  taJces  Par- 
sifal once  more  to  the  great  hall.  Funeral  strains  of 
tragic  grief  issue  from  the  orchestra  as  tlie  knights  are 
bringing  in  the  bier  with  Titurel's  lifeless  body,  while 
another  group  bears  Amfortas  and  the  Grail,'  The  Death 
March  of  Titurel  has  in  it  more  of  the  wail  of  lament 
than  Siegfried's  Death  March,  in  which  the  heroic 
reminiscent  strains  almost  overpower  the  lament;  and 
the  solemn  peal  of  the  Grailshurg  bells  deepens  its  mel- 
ancholy.   The  responsive  choruses  of  the  knights — the 

'  Here,  as  Mr.  Charles  Dudley  Warner  has  finely  remarked,  "the 
affects  o[  color  and  grouping  are  marvuUoua  ;  and  to  eyes  (amiliar  vitb 
sacred  paintings  of  the  masters,  almostevery  figure  and  dress  is  a  remi- 
niscence of  some  deal  association.  The  angelic  loveliness  o(  the  bearers 
ot  the  shrine,  hovever,  turpatiei  any  picture,  ai  much  a»  life  tran- 
iceadt  any  counterfeit  of  it."  Was  Wagner  right,  after  all,  in  MylDg 
that  the  mosic-drama  wlU  some  da;  sapersede  the  pictorial  pUatle 
uta7 


POETIC,  PICTORIAL,  MUSICAL  WEATUMEM    4SR 

question  ^  whom  bear  ye  on  yon  gloomy  bier?^  with  tbe 
answer  from  the  other  group  that  it  is  Titurel,  tbe  former 
King,  have  a  quaint,  antique  solemnity  that  suggests 
iEschylus.'  Nor  is  there  in  .fischylus  or  other  poet 
anything  more  terrible,  more  awe-inspiring,  than  the 
urgent,  threatening  demand,  ^'Thou  must!  Thou  must!  ^ 
with  which  the  knights  crowd  around  the  unwilling 
Amfortas,  and  insist  that  he  shall  uncover  the  Orail. 

Nothing  in  Pwnifdl  is  more  remarkable  than  the  prom- 
inence of  the  chorus,  and  the  variety  of  forms  it  assumes. 
I  explained  in  the  chapter  on  Dit  Meisteninger  how,  in 
that  drama,  Wagner  recovered  from  his  excessive  preju- 
dice against  the  use  of  the  chorus  in  a  music-drama  and 
atoned  for  his  omissions  in  the  Trilogy  by  writing  such 
stirring  choral  strains  as  had  never  before  been  heard  on 
the  stage — choruses  of  varied  form,  including  ecclesiastic 
chorals;  merry  songs  of  gambolling  apprentices;  a  riot  set 
to  music;  humorous  songs  of  trade-guilds;  and  the  sub- 
lime outpourings  of  the  assembled  populace.  In  Parti/al 
this  choral  variety  is  still  further  extended;  here  we 
have  the  angelic  strains  of  boys'  voices  from  the  cupola, 
suggesting  in  their  melodic  and  harmonic  simplicity  and 
purity  the  seventeenth  century  music  of  I'alestrina; 
the  devotional  chant  of  the  knights  at  the  Holy  Supper^ 
the  responsive  and  threatening  choruses  just  referred 
to;  and,  most  wonderful  and  novel  of  all,  the  ftywer- 


I  Ifr.  Seidl  eallad  mj  stteatfoB  to  tbs  nUmat^ff  fuUtmtJHm  to^  fk» 
it  WBs  oiifiiiallj  WifiMr'f  taUnlkm  to  fntrodao*  fkmm  fmpmt^%^ 
chormet  in  09tUrdMm$n€rungt  Juit  btfom  m«ffrM'»  hn^  In  hmm  to 
the  funeral  pjro.  (8oe  tbo  oHi^nnl  form  t4  thni  4rM»«,  ffUit/Hii4F§  T^, 
11.209:  "Wer  lit  d«r  Hold  don  ilir«r]Mto/'«««,;  If*  *ov«l  Mi  MMI 
dramntic  imlgbt  bjr  onttttof  ih&m  thtm  md  Intt^dMlof  Hktm,  mwfgffj 
mutandU,  la  PoirifwL 


4 


428  TBE  PARSIFAL  PERIOD 

maidens'  choruses,  in  which  Wagner  has  shown  onca 
more  his  astounding  originality.  In  this  Flower  Girl 
scene  we  have  the  operatic  chorus  of  the  future,  in  which, 
while  the  beauty  of  ensemble  song  is  retained,  we  realize 
at  the  same  time  Wagner's  idea!  that  there  should  be  no 
word- repetitions,  no  confusing  of  the  text-words,  and 
that  every  member  of  the  chorus  ahouH  be  an  individnal 
actor.     There  is  food  here  for  hours  <»f  thought. 

The  fact  that  several  of  the  poetic  (and  consequently 
also  the  musical)  features  of  Parsifal  date  back  to  an 
earlier  period  of  its  composer's  life,  makes  it  difficult 
to  answer  definitely  the  question  whether  his  creative 
power  retained  its  freshness  and  vigor  up  to  his  last 
years.  Certain  it  is  that  most  of  the  Parsifal  motives 
eijUiil,  in  their  definite  emotional  suggestiveness  and 
originality,  those  of  his  former  dramas;  certain  it  is, 
too,  tliat  in  this  score  he  still  further  enriched  the  mys- 
terious science  and  art  of  harmony  and  modulation  with 
new  combinations  which  deeply  stir  the  emotions;  cer- 
tain, ^ain,  that  nowhere  has  he  better  shown  his  amazing 
skill  in  developing,  combining,  and  interweaving  motives, 
and  in  coloring  them  with  orchestral  tints  such  as  no 
other  composer  has  ever  had  on  his  palette.  In  the  final 
scene  of  Parsifal  —  the  last  pages  of  music  he  penned 
—  it  seems  as  if  all  these  colors  were  to  be  surpassed  in 
saturated  vividness.  Only  the  deep  celestial  blue  of  the 
Mediterranean,  of  the  Spanish  sky,  can  give  an  idea  of 
the.se  ethereal  orchestral  splendors. 

Generations  will  pass  before  the  musical  public  will 
realize  what  a  wealth  of  musical  material  is  stored  in 
this  score.  Its  dramatic  grandeur  and  pictorial  beauties 
impress   all  spectators  at  once,  but  the   music  needs 


PAUSIFAL  CBITIC8  429 

repeated  hearing  before  all  its  marvels  are  revealed.  A 
Berlin  critic  aptly  compared  this  music  to  that  Raphael 
Madonna,  ''  which  appears  to  us  at  first  glance  to  have 
a  background  of  clouds;  but  if  we  look  more  closely  the 
clouds  are  resolved  into  the  heads  of  angels. '^  ^ 

PABSIFAL  OBITICS 

The  future  writer  of  a  comic  history  of  music  will 
have  less  of  a  harvest  in  the  Parsifal  than  in  the  Nibe- 
lung  criticisms,  although  the  field  is  almost  as  large.  A 
few  grains,  however,  are  worth  gleaning.  Ten  days 
before  the  first  performance  at  Bayreuth,  Franz  Hille 
of  Vienna  wrote  an  article  on  ''Eichard  Wagner  —  No 
Musician."  Another  expert,  named  Schrattenholtz,  who 
had  wisely  waited  until  he  had  heard  Parsifal,  found 
Parsifal  "a  desert  with  a  few  oases,"  while  the  sounds 
uttered  by  Kundry  in  the  scene  where  Klingsor  hypno- 
tizes her,  "might  be  permissible  in  a  dog  subjected  to 
vivisection,  but  in  an  artist  they  are  simply  ridiculous." 
On  Alfred  von  Mensi  the  Parsifal  motives  suggested 
"  piano-tuning  with  impediments."  The  same  critic  was 
one  of  two  who  made  the  brilliant  discovery  that  the 
Parsifal  poem  was  full  of  the  usual  crude  and  clumsy 
alliterative  efiEects,  whereas,  in  truth,  there  is  in  this 

1  It  is  to  be  feared  that  when  Parsifal  makes  its  way  to  the  oommer- 
cial  opera-hoases,  much  of  this  beaatiful  mosic  wiU  have  to  be  sacri- 
ficed ;  for  although  in  the  number  of  bars  (4347)  it  is  Wagner's  shortest 
score,  except  Rheingold  (which  has  3906  bars,  while  the  Dutchman  has 
4432,  aocoidiDg  to  a  writer  in  the  London  Musical  Times  of  Nov.  1, 
1883) ,  most  of  the  music  is  so  solemn  and  slow  that  more  time  is  con- 
sumed than  usually.  The  first  act  alone  lasts  an  hour  and  three- 
quarters;  but  I  have  never  yet  met  any  one  at  Bayreuth  who  found  it 
too  long. 


i 


480  TBB  PARSIFAL  PSBIOD 

whole  poem  only  one  alliterative  verse:  "Ihr  nfihrt  sia 
niclit,  Bie  nalit  euch  nie."'  Max  Kalbeck  pronouuoed 
Wagner  a 

"talent  without  genuine  ori^Rslity  of  LDTentloD.  .  .  .  Not  &  great 
artiBt,  but  a  clubsmith  {Vereinmmier),  puff-hero,  intrigue-forger, 
scan dal-in alter,  and  seciarlu)."  Another  Mice,  sumamed  Schonau, 
opined  that  in  Pani/al  Wagner  has  "once  more  proven  that  in 
musical  endowment  be  HurpBaaes  all  living  ogmposers  about  U 
much  aa  he  hlmaelf  is  aurpassed  by  Mozart" ! 

The  well-known  art-critic  Wilhelin  Ltibke  appears  to 
have  had  au  awful  experience  at  Bayreuth.  Here  are 
a  few  of  the  things  he  discovered  in  Parsifal:  — 

'■The  destruction  of  all  healthy  art-principles";  "roualeal 
Invention  at  a  lower  level";  "an  endless  desert  of  diaconragjng 
psalmodic  recilatives"  [  "an  absolute  negaluin  of  the  dramatic  " ; 
"  a  complete  absence  of  melodic  charm  "  ;  Paraifal  blmHeU  Is  "  an 
impotent  pray-brotber  " ;  the  whole  drama  is  calculated  "  for  hya* 
tericaJ  women  and  blast  men  of  the  world";  the  festival  Itself 
must  be  characterized  as  "  art  dragged  down  to  the  level  of  com- 
mercial puffery  "  ;  "  What  would  Lessing  and  Herder,  Qoethe  and 
Soliiller,  say  If  tiey  saw  their  countrymen  threatened  by  such 
intellectual  obscuration?  Wbat  would  they  say  ...  to  the  at- 
tempt to  dish  up  the  obsolete  symbols  of  mediieval  mysticism  aa 
objects  of  veneration  t " 

No  wonder  that  Lilbke  felt  inclined  to  propose  Wag- 
ner aa  a  "Doctor  of  Cacophony."  He  forgot  only  one 
thing:  the  wisdom  of  a  certain  old  proverb  relating  to  a 
cobbler  and  his  last, 

Mr.  Joseph  Bennett,  in  his  letters  to  the  London  Tele- 
graph, notes  gleefully  that  before  the  second  performance, 

I  Tappert,  Fiir  nntf  widtr  Pariifal.  Berlin,  1882.  T,  Bartb.  P.  22. 
See  also  p.  14  for  an  amusing  list  of  pet  names  bestowed  on  the  Wag- 
nerltes  by  the  "  critics," 


PAS8IFAL  CSITIC8  481 

^'an  obliging  clerk  made  various  graceful  carres  with 
his  pencil  upon  the  plan,  and  intimated  that  all  seats 
within  their  cope  were  at  my  disposal."  This,  surely, 
was  something  to  rejoice  over,  all  the  more  as  Mr.  Ben- 
nett found  the  subject  *^  painful  indeed, "  and  the  "  patchy, 
disjointed,  flighty  music  .  .  .  singularly  wearisome  and 
unsatisfactory";  moreover,  he  felt  quite  certain  that  the 
English  people,  '^at  any  rate,  will  never  admit  Parsifal 
among  them." 

So  the  English  Archphilistine  does  not  disappoint  us 
even  on  this  last  occasion,  but  when  the  comic  historian 
of  music  looks  among  his  German  colleagues  who  were 
formerly  so  ''amoosin',"  he  will  be  doomed  to  a  large 
measure  of  disappointment.  Even  Speidel,  Ehlert,  Lin- 
dau,  and  Hanslick  were  not  what  they  should  have  been; 
they  distinctly  disappointed  their  admirers.  Speidel 
made  one  more  despairing  effort  to  be  witty  by  calling 
Wagner  a  "  Wahnf riedrich  " ;  then  he  utterly  collapsed 
into  the  confession  that  ''since  the  first  performance  of 
Lohengrin,  we  have  not  been  in  a  position  to  bestow  praise 
on  Wagner.  To-day  circumstances  compel  us  to  oppose 
appreciation  to  the  hard  word  of  condemnation."  In 
other  words,  the  great  Ludwig  Speidel,  reputed  one  of 
the  leading  German  critics  of  the  nineteenth  century, 
tells  us  that  he  found  nothing  whatever  to  praise  in 
Eheingold,  WaUcUre,  Siegfried,  Cfdtterddmmerung,  Tri^an, 
and  Meisterainger  I  Thus  we  see  the  miraculous  even  in 
Wagner's  enemies:  as  their  conscious  wit  fails  them, 
they  become  witty  unwittingly. 

One  of  the  most  melancholy  episodes  in  the  history  of 
Wagnerism  is  the  misunderstanding  between  Dr.  Paul 
Lindau  and  Dr.  Eduard  Hanslick  on  the  subject  of  Par- 


432  THE  PARSIFAL  PERIOD 

Bifal.  Lindau  is  not  quite  reconciled  to  the  IfCadiDg 
Motives,  and  he  even  tells  us  that  "the  hatred  of  melody 
has  taken  root  more  and  more  deeply  in  Wagner  " ;  but  he 
modestly  qualifies  this  hy  speaking  of  melody  "  as  com- 
monly understood  "  (t.e.  vocal  dance  rhythms).  He  also 
condemns  his  own  procedure  on  former  occasions  by 
remarking  that  "all  Wagner's  poems  improve  on  closer 
acquaintance,  and  it  would  be  presumptuous  to  express  a 
final  opinion  after  a  single  hearing."  He  pronounces 
Parsifal  one  of  the  most  beautiful  dramatic  productions 
in  existence,  and  compares  the  tableaux  to  Perugino's  ; 
for  the  music,  too,  he  has  little  but  praise. 

No  wonder  that  Dr.  Hanslick,  in  his  review  of  the 
"Parsifal  Literature,"  found  his  friend  Lindau  disap- 
pointing. His  letters  on  Parsifal,  he  complains,  are 
inferior  to  the  Sober  Letters  on  the  first  Bayreuth  Festi- 
val, in  which  he  "told  Wagner  the  bitterest  truths  about 
his  Tetralogy.  ...  In  the  Parsifal  letters,  we  miss  the 
same  irresistible  spirit  of  laughter  and  derision."  In- 
deed, Hanslick  is  mean  enough  to  intimate  that  possibly 
Lindau's  sources  of  wit  had  dried  up,  because  he  did  not 
make  clownish  fun  of  Parsifal !  The  most  unkindest  cut 
of  all,  on  Lindau's  part,  was  that  whereas  Hanslick  had 
found  the  "diseased  kernel"  of  the  drama  in  the  fact 
that  Wagner,  at  the  critical  point,  deviates  from  the  old 
legend,'  Lindau,  a  famous  dramatist  himself,  finds  in 
this  very  fact  Wagner's  dramatic  masterstroke,  "  which 
renders  the  conflict  more  profound." 

And  yet  —  what  right  has  Hanslick  to  throw  stones  at 
Lindau  when  he  himself  —  Professor  Dr.  Eduard  Hans- 


TBS  MRST  PERFOBltASCX  488 

lick  —  wrote   such   rank  heresies  aa  the  following,   d 
propoB  of  PanifaXt 

"  JUBt  as  that  Babylonian  niler  tkad  his  name  bnmt  on  every 
brick  UiU  helped  to  form  great  archit«clnrsl  works,  to  bear  witneai 
after  thousanda  of  years,  so  the  aathor  of  Partifal  has  Impreaaed 
an  invlBibla  R.  W.,  m  It  were,  on  every  bar.  With  perfect  cer- 
tainty, BOholan  will,  in  future  times,  recognize  every  page  of  this 

"  In  all  of  Wagner's  operaa  the  moaic  has  succeeded  In  toning 
down  the  defects  of  the  poem,  and  In  adding  to  the  beauty  of  Its 
good  points." 

"  Panlfal  U  scored  in  a  surprisingly  discreet  manner.  In  the 
art  of  orcheetraUon  Wagner  Iiaa  not  grown  old ;  In  Far^<A  this 
art  has  developed  into  pure  magic,  and  tor  every  change  of  mood 
conjures  the  most  wonderful  sounds  in  Inflnite  shades  and  varle^." 

As  regards  the  creative  power  in  general :  — 

"  For  a  man  of  Wagner's  age  [sixty-nine],  and  with  his  system, 
it  seems  to  me  in  Partifal  to  continue  to  be  astounding.  Any  one 
who  can  write  pieces  of  the  enchanting  melodious  charm  of  the 
fiower-girl  scene,  and  of  the  energy  of  the  final  scene  in  Faraifal, 
still  baa  control  of  a  power  which  his  youngest  contemporaries 
may  envy  blm." 

Does  it  not  seem  as  if  Hanslick's  complaint  of  Lin- 
dau'a  heresy  were  a  case  of  the  pot  calliug  the  kettle 
black? 

THE  FIB8T   FEBFOBUA2fCB 

On  the  evening  before  the  first  performance  of  Parrifijl, 
there  was  a  banquet  at  the  restaurant  near  the  theatre, 
at  which  all  the  artists  were  present.  In  course  of  the 
evening  W^ner  delivered  an  address  in  which  he  spoke 
in  terms  of  gratitude  of  the  friends  who  had  generously 
assisted  him,  especially  of  bis  royal  patio%  without 


434  THE  PARSIFAL  PERIOD 

whose  aid  this  second  Festival  too  would  have  been 
impossible;  he  concluded  with  a  toast  to  Liszt,  whom 
he  declared  identical  with  himself  —  "Franz  Liszt  ist 
mit  mir  eins, "  After  the  banquet,  when  he  waa  about  to 
leave,  and  had  already  donned  his  paletot,  he  faced  aboat^ 
hat  in  hand,  to  deliver  a  few  further  remarks,  ending 
with  the  exclamation:  "May  all  the  actors  be  possessed 
by  the  devil,  and  those  in  the  auditorium  at  least  receive 
him.  If  you  do  not  all  become  crazy,  our  object  will 
not  have  been  attained." 

The  first  representation,  on  July  26,  was  more  perfect 
than  that  of  any  of  the  Nibelwng  dramas  had  been  in 
1876.  The  oast  included  Materna,  Winkelmann,  Reich- 
mann,  Scaria,  Hill,  and  Kindermano,  in  the  rftlea  of 
Kundry,  Parsifal,  Amfortas,  Gumemanz,  Klingsor,  and 
Titurel  respectively.  All  of  tlii'sf  were  e.tcellent,  both 
as  singers  and  as  actors.  Scaria,  in  particular,  distin- 
guished himself  by  revealing,  with  almost  unprecedented 
art,  tlie  marvellous  beauty  of  Wagnerian  song,  combin- 
ing a  mellow,  sonorous  tone -production  with  an  absolute 
distinctness  of  articulation,  not  a  word  being  lost  or 
mumbled.  It  was  ideal  dramatic  singing,  a  new  style  of 
vocal  utterance  brought  to  perfection  for  the  first  time. 
On  this  topic,  and  on  the  various  scenic  and  other 
experiments  that  had  to  be  made  before  everything  was 
satisfactory,  Wagner  himself  discourses  eloquently  and 
suggestively  in  his  reminiscences  of  the  Parsifal  Festi- 
val  (X.  383-395),    from  which  I  will  quote    only  one 


"  Experienced  theatrical  managers  ashed  me  what  was  the 
ecret  of  the  government  which  secured  such  astoniahing  resnlta 
1  the  precision  of  all  scenic,  musical  sud  dramatic  details  on. 


THE  FIB8T  PERFORMANCE  486 

over,  under,  and  behind  the  stage ;  upon  which  I  retorted  good- 
humoredly  that  this  was  accomplished  through  anarchy,  every  one 
doing  wlutt  he  wished,  namely,  the  right  thing.  Certainly  this 
was  true :  every  one  understood  the  whole  of  the  object  aimed  at. 
No  one  fancied  himself  called  on  to  do  too  much  or  too  little. 
Every  one  cared  more  for  the  success  of  the  whole  than  for  personal 
applause,  to  receive  which  from  the  public  in  the  customary  manner 
was  looked  on  as  a  disturbance,  while  the  interest  manifested  by 
the  constant  arrival  of  new  audiences  rejoiced  us  as  evidence  of 
the  correctness  of  our  belief  in  the  worth  of  our  efforts.** 

This  last  sentence  vaguely  hints  at  a  slightly  unpleas- 
ant incident  which  occurred  at  the  first  performance  of 
ParsifaL  It  was  understood  by  Wagner's  admirers,  who 
made  up  the  greater  part  of  tiie  audience,  that  he  was 
averse  to  applause  while  the  curtain  was  up.  On  this 
occasion,  in  view  of  the  semi-religious  character  of  the 
drama,  it  was  his  desire  that  there  should  be  no  applause 
at  all,  or  at  least  no  attempt  to  call  the  actors  or  com- 
poser on  the  stage  before  the  end  of  the  last  act,  in  order 
that  the  dramatic  illusion  might  be  kept  up  to  the  last 
moment.  The  artists  most  willingly  agreed  to  this,  as 
to  everything  desired  by  the  Meister;  but  the  public  did 
not  quite  understand  the  situation.  The  ecclesiastic 
solemnity  of  the  close  of  the  first  act  did  not  invite  to 
any  noisy  demonstrations;  but  when,  after  the  second 
act,  the  applause  became  '^operatic"  in  character,  and 
the  calls  for  the  composer  and  the  artists  continued, 
Wagner  finally  appeared,  and  in  a  tone  of  reproach 
begged  the  audience  not  to  insist  on  seeing  the  artists; 
adding  that  such  a  form  of  approval  was  not  called  for 
on  this  occasion.  The  Wagnerian  audience — as  obedi- 
ent to  the  Meister's  wishes  as  the  singers  themselves  — 
took  this  request  literally,  and  when  the  last  act  was 


436  THE  FABSIFAL  PESIOD 

over  refrained  from  all  applause.  But  this  was  not  what 
Wagner  had  meant.  He  rose  in  bia  box  and  said: 
"Whether  my  friends  are  satisfied  with  me,  I  know  not. 
But  if  thej  are  as  much  satisfied  with  my  artists  as  I  am, 
then  I  beg  them  to  follow  my  example,  who  am  the  first 
to  applaud  them."  Whereupon  a  storm  of  applause 
arose;  but  the  singers  had  already  retired  to  their 
dressing-rooms,  and  did  not  appear  before  the  curtain. 

No  sincere  friend  of  art  can  deny  that  Wagner's  inten- 
tions were  of  the  noblest,  and  that  the  nn pleasantness  of 
this  affair  merely  resulted  from  an  awkward  misunder- 
standing. The  critical  Philistines,  however,  who  had 
succeeded  in  getting  seats,  proceeded,  with  their  usual 
extraordinary  hatred  of  genius,  to  make  this  incident  the 
basis  of  one  of  their  regular  malicious  tirades  against 
Wagner's  character,  the  special  point  of  attack  being 
again  the  gaucherie  of  his  speeches  to  the  public.  Per- 
haps he  took  these  aspersions  to  heart;  at  any  rate,  at 
the  close  of  the  last  performance,  the  third  act  of  which 
he  conducted  himself,  he  made  an  effusive  speech  of 
thanks'  to  the  artists,  who  had  come  on  the  stage,  he 
himself  being  invisible  to  the  audience,  which  he  also 
ignored  in  his  speech.  This  again  aroused  the  ire  of 
the  Philistines:  homilies  ai>peared  on  the  next  day  in 
Berlin  and  Vienna  papers  abusing  Wagner  for  his  "  insult- 
ing way  of  ignoring  the  audience!  " 

The  last  performance  but  one  had  as  its  most  enthusi- 
astic spectator  the  Crown  Prince  of  Prussia;  while  the 
last  repetition  was  attended  by  the  Duke  and  Duchess  of 
Edinburgh,  the  Grand  Duke  of  Weimar,  Prince  Gustav 
of  Sachsen- Weimar,  and  the  Prince  and  Princess  Wladi- 
mir  of  Bussia.     European  royalty  had  evidently  quite 


THE  FIRST  PEBFOBMANCE 


437 


forgiven  the  former  reyolntionist.  The , audiences  had 
increased  toward  the  end,  and  on  the  last  two  days  the 
house  was  almost  filled;  the  consequence  being  that  the 
fund  of  f  35,000  collected  for  the  Parsifal  Festival  not 
only  remained  intact,  but  the  receipts  covered  the 
expenses,  with  a  surplus  of  ^1500,  which  sum  was  added 
to  that  fund.  Under  these  circumstances,  a  repetition 
of  the  Festival  in  1883  was  decided  upon,  as  a  matter  of 
course.  The  artists  said  farewell  to  their  esteemed 
Master  on  the  understanding  that  all  were  to  meet  again 
the  following  summer;  but  fate  ordained  otherwise: 
King  Ludwig's  two  black  swans  were  ominous  of  the 
mourning  in  store  for  them.^ 

1  Not  content  with  thanking  his  artists  coUectively,  Wagner  called 
on  them  individaally  to  express  his  gratitude  in  words  and  by  means 
of  presents  of  photographs,  vases,  statnes,  etc.,  often  with  playful 
inscriptions.  To  Reichmann  he  said:  "Na,  yon  brilliant  fellow,  yon 
shall  have  something  aniqne,"  whereapon  he  put  his  hand  in  his  pocket 
and  pressed  a  golden  ten-mark  piece  into  the  astonished  singer's  hand. 
There,  my  boy,  is  a  ten-mark  souvenir ;  Schnorr  received  only  a  thaler 
after  the  first  TrUtan  night! "    (Oesterlein,  IIL  178.) 


THE   LAST  SEVEN  MONTHS 

IN  THE  TENDBAHEH  PALAGB 

"  To  speaik  of  the  suocesa  of  a  new  work  by  Wagner, " 
says  Dr.  Kiemaim,  "  sounds  to  our  modern  notions  almost 
like  heresy;  it  is  an  event."  Parst/al  was  an  " event " 
in  musical  history,  and  would  have  been  one  even  had  it 
proved  a  financial  failure;  nevertheless  it  is  a  pleasure 
to  record  that  it  was  a  suocess  pecuniarily  as  well  as 
artisticnlly.  Yet  it  proved  a  dearly  bought  victory. 
There  can  be  little  doubt  that  had  it  not  been  for  the 
labor  and  excitement  of  producing  Parsifal,  Wagner 
might  have  lived  some  years  longer.  Even  in  his 
younger  days,  the  rehearsing  of  one  of  his  works  pros- 
trated him  completely.  In  18S2  he  had  almost  reached 
his  seventieth  year,  and  the  heart-trouble  to  which  he 
succumbed  a  few  months  later  had  already  made  sad 
inroads  on  his  vigor.  He  suffered  much  from  palpita- 
tion and  abdominal  troubles,  and  had  been  afflicted,  ever 
since  1879,  by  an  occasional,  although  iufrequent,  faint- 
ing-fit. No  time  -was  therefore  to  be  lost;  he  longed  once 
more  for  the  balmy  air  and  autumnal  sunshine  of  Italy. 
He  left  Bayreuth  on  Sejit.  14;  rumor  said,  with  a  physi- 
cian as  one  of  his  companions,  but  this  was  not  true. 
Foi-tunately,  hia  means  allowed  him  to  travel  in  comfort, 
and  safe  from  the  annoyance  caused  by  curiosity.    Thanks 


IIT  TEX  rXNDBAMIN  PALACS  489 

to  the  tnTelling  Wagner  Theatre  and  other  sootces,  it  is 
estimated  that  his  income  daring  the  last  year  of  his  Ufa 
was  {25,000.*  The  party  arrived  in  Munich  on  tha 
fifteenth,  in  a  private  parlor-car,  and  forthwith  con- 
tinued the  journey  to  Venice.  At  Bozen  there  was  a 
narrow  escape  from  an  unpleasant  detention;  heavy  rains 
had  caused  an  inundation  which  interrupted  railway 
travel.  Fortunately,  luck  was  no  loi^r  against  Wag- 
ner,  as  always  in  former  years:  he  was  in  the  last  train 
that  succeeded  in  crossing  into  Italy. 

Venice  was  reached  on  the  sixteenth,  and  rooms  engaged 
at  the  Hotel  Europe.  Wagner  had  a  great  aversion  to 
hotel  life,  on  account  of  the  inevitable  noises  and  pub- 
licity; but  he  had  to  content  himself  for  a  week,  until 
the  superb  saite  of  twenty-eight  rooms  he  had  rented  in 
the  first  story  of  the  Palazzo  Vendramin  had  been  pre- 
pared for  occupancy.  This  famous  palace  was  built 
before  the  discovery  of  America  (1481),  and  it  has  been 
ever  since  one  of  the  sights  of  Venice  which  few  tourists 
overlook.  Its  spaciousness,  its  architectural  beauty,  its 
historic  associations,  and  romantic  situation  on  the  Grand 
Canal,  appealed  to  the  imagination  of  Wagner,  who  was 
in  one  of  his  happiest  moods  when  he  took  possession  of 
it,  on  a  bright  sunny  day.  Twenty-eight  rooms  may 
seem  a  large  number,  but  there  were  plenty  of  occupants 
for  them.  Besides  the  composer  and  his  wife,  the  house- 
hold in  the  Vendramin  comprised  Siegfried  and  Era 
W^[ner  (aged  twelve  and  fourteen  years),  Daniela  and 

1 1  may  aUta  in  thii  pUee  that  he  aaked  ol  B.  Schott's  Boni  •30,000 
for  the  TlKht  of  pablUblng  Partifai.  As  they  had  paid  Mm  tha 
ftbaoidly  bidbII  BDin  of  910,000  for  the  bna  drwou  of  the  N\MvMg'» 
JNny ,  ha  thu  wMted  to  eat»bll«h  a.  moie  Init  average.  Ha  neoaadad, 
howaVar,  In  getting  only  SIS.OOO  tor  FartifaL 


440 


THE  LAST  SEVEN  MOSSTSB 


4 


Isolde  Biilow,  Baron  von  Stein,  the  teacliera  of  Eva  and 
Siegfried,  and  four  German  servants.  Room  had  also  to 
be  found  for  the  Count  Gravina  and  his  vrife  Blandina 
(n&e  Billow),  for  Liszt,  and  for  the  painter  Joukowsky, 
who  were  entertained  as  guests. 

In  this  domestic  circle  Wagner  spent  the  laat  twenty 
weeks  of  his  life.  Visitors  were  not  desired,  and  if  any 
called,  Frau  Cosima  was  usually  the  one  to  receive  them. 
The  love  of  solitude  was,  if  possible,  more  pronounced 
than  ever  in  her  husband.  He  believed  be  should  live 
to  be  ninety  years  old;  yet  he  could  not  tell;  any  day 
might  be  his  last,  and  his  mind  was  still  so  full  of  proj- 
ects that  he  felt  his  time  was  too  valuable  to  b©  given 
up  to  social  duties.  While  accepting  no  calls  except 
from  intimate  friends,  he  rarely  made  any  except  on  the 
Countess  Hatzfeld,  whose  daughter,  the  Countess  von 
Schleinitz  had  been  for  years  one  of  his  dearest  friends, 
and  a  most  influential  patroness  at  the  Prussian  court. 
To  husband  his  strength  for  his  work,  he  led  a  most 
regular  life.  Rising  before  six  o'clock,  he  devoted  a  few 
hours  to  writing,  during  which  no  one  was  allowed  to 
enter,  unless  he  called  for  a  servant,  who  found  him  in 
such  cases  sitting  with  his  face  to  the  windows,  bending 
over  his  work,  with  a  glass  of  wine  or  cognac  on  the 
table.  On  chilly  mornings — Italian  palaces  are  not 
easily  heated  —  he  exchanged  his  satin  smoking-gown 
for  his  fur  cloak. 

This  isolation  continued  till  about  ten  o'clock, — some- 
times till  twelve  or  one,  —  breakfast  being  served  sepa- 
rately to  him,  as  to  the  other  members  of  the  household. 
When  ^he  morning's  work  was  done,  Frau  Cosima  entered, 
to  give  bim  the  day's  news  and  inform  him  of  the  con- 


m  TEX  VENBEAUa  PALACE  441 

tents  of  letterSi  suppressing  whaterer  might  annoy  him, 
for  the  doctor  had  ordered  that  excitement  must  be 
avoided  above  all  things.  A  good  dinner,  washed  down 
with  Bhine  wine,  was  taken  after  the  German  fashimi, 
in  the  middle  of  the  day,  at  one  or  two,  and  was  followed 
by  an  hour's  nap  in  the  bedroom  facing  the  1'alace 
garden,  where  the  cries  of  the  gondoliers,  ami  the  steant' 
whistle  of  the  canal  ^^  tramway  '^  could  not  lie  heard*  Ttte 
afternoon  hours  were  devoted  to  recreation^  ami  to  walks 
in  the  city  or  excursions  on  the  water*  After  the  room' 
ing  conference  with  his  wife,  he  usually  went  down  into 
the  courtyard  to  ascertain  the  cIuMiees  of  good  weather/ 
He  had  a  curious  habit  of  lifting  bis  baodsi  one  aft#r  i\m 
other,  and  moving  them  aboot^  as  if  to  teet  the  HimAiti^m 
of  the  air.  In  case  of  doubt,  the  gtmdolUfr§  were  ^/m* 
suited  as  to  the  weather  prospedts*  If  tlii;  /y/ri/liti//fis 
were  favorable,  the  gondr^la  was  ord^rM  tor  'A/^K  W*if * 
ner  often  expressed  his  preference  fftr  a  i^mnUAn  ovttr 
a  carriage,  because  of  the  absence  of  dust  and  noise* 
Sometimes  the  excursions  were  extended  beyond  the 
city  canals,  to  Murano  or  the  Lido,  as  he  found  that  the 
fresh  salt  breezes  from  the  ocean  benefited  his  lungs. 
On  such  occasions  he  was  usually  seen  comfortably 
extended,  engaged  in  conversation  with  his  wife  and 
children,  with  vivid  gesticulations,  while  their  attentive 
attitude  showed  how  they  worshipped  and  loved  him, 
and  cherished  every  word  that  came  from  his  lips. 

In  his  walks  in  the  city  he  was  sometimes  also  accom- 
panied by  his  family,  but  often  he  went  alone  as  far  as 
the  Piazetta,  where  he  sometimes  sat  an  hour  to  rest  and 
meditate;  or  else  he  called  at  his  banker's,  or  at  a  con- 
fectioner's, or  indulged  in  a  glass  of  beer  and  a  piece  of 


442  THE  LAST  SEVEN  MONTBS 

Swiss  cheese,  in  deBanee  of  the  doctor's  warnings;  oi 
called  at  his  barber's  to  have  him  cut  his  hair,  which 
continued  to  grow  with  youthful  vigor.  Sometimes  the 
music  in  St.  Mark's  Place  seemed  to  annoy  him,  and 
once,  when  a  selection  from  Lohengrin  was  played,  he 
was  seen  going  into  Lavennaa,  and  stopping  up  his  ears. 
On  another  occasion,  he  went  up  to  the  conductor  and 
begged  him  to  play  something  from  Rossini's  Oazia 
Ladra.  The  bandmaster  did  not  know  him,  and  ex- 
pressed his  regrets  that  he  could  not  do  so,  as  he  had  not 
the  music  with  him;  but  liardly  had  Wagner  turned  his 
back  when  some  one  told  him  who  the  distinguished- 
looking  stranger  was.  'Whereupon  a  messenger  was 
immediately  despatched  and  the  piece  asked  for  played 
with  special  care  and  fire.  Wagner  was  much  pleased 
by  this  attention;  he  came  to  thank  the  musicians  for 
their  good-will  and  to  compliment  them  on  their  perform- 
Sometimes  an  excursion  was  made  along  the  narrower 
canals,  in  the  poorer  quarters  of  Venice,  or  to  the  special 
sights  of  the  town,  such  as  the  fishmarket.  When  the 
gondolier  had  found  a  specially  interesting  route,  Wagner 
would  reward  him  with  an  extra  fee  of  a  few  francs.  He 
liked  to  mingle  with  the  poor  of  Venice,  and  when  he 
came  across  a  case  of  pathetic  poverty,  always  had  a  few 

'  Fur  most  ot  the  toreEoing  dptaila  reRardin?  bis  life  in  Venice  and 
many  (otlowinR  onefl,  I  am  indebted  to  «n  entcrtainlog  brotdiara  of  JBO 
paffK?.  by  Henry  Perl,  entitled  Richiird  Wagner  in  Venedig  (Augsburg, 
1SS3).  Kir.  Perl  was  a  frienrt  of  Dr.  Keppler.  wbo  dally  visited  tbe  Ven- 
dramin  palace ;  lie  also  obtained  details  from  otber  sources,  lacludlng 
tbe  gODdoliert  and  the  servants.  Thus  his  book  is  a  mosaic  which 
brings  Wagner  In  his  last  months  vividly  before  tbe  eyes,  and  which 
must  be  comniended  to  all  who  would  knotr  the  great  composer's 
penouaUtjr.    A  tew  iDaccuracies  which  occur  in  it  are  pudonabla. 


nr  TBE  VBNDBAMIlf  PALACE  448 

francs  to  bestow.  ETeiybody  in  the  city,  rich  and  poor, 
soon  knew  the  kind-hearted  TetUtco,  with  the  la^e  gray 
hat  and  the  brown  overcoat.  Genius  inspires  respect 
even  if  its  manifestations  are  not  understood;  a  remark 
repeatedly  overheard  by  Mr.  Perl  indicates  the  attitude 
of  the  nai've  Venetian  populace  towards  the  great  Qer- 
man  —  "  They  say  he  is  more  than  a  king ;  is  it  not  so?  " 
Before  dark,  the  Meiater  was  always  back  in  the 
.Palace,  and  the  twUight  hours  were  devoted  to  confiden- 
tial chats  with  his  wife.  She  was  more  to  him  than 
even  her  father  had  been,  for  conjugal  love  is  deeper  than 
friendship.  He  adored  her,  and  she  worshipped  him. 
All  his  wishes  were  anticipated,  with  an  ingenuity  known 
only  to  the  unselfish  love  of  woman.  To  her  he  could 
impart  all  hie  plans,  talk  over  his  projects,  knowing  that 
they  would  be  appreciated;  she  was  his  secretary,  and 
his  amanuensis  whenever  he  was  in  the  mood  for  dictat- 
ing. As  twilight  deepened  into  night,  the  Palace  was 
illuminated  to  an  extent  which  astonished  the  Italians. 
The  portier  of  the  Vendramin,  a  younger  brother  of 
Byron's  gondolier,  was  reminded  thereby  of  that  English 
poet's  fondness  for  brilliant  illumination  of  his  apart- 
ments. Supper  was  eaten  at  seven  or  eight,  and  after- 
wards one  of  the  daughters  would  read  an  hour  or  two 
from  a  book  chosen  by  her  father.  Sometimes  he 
declaimed  something  from  one  of  his  works,  and  Perl 
relates  that  on  one  occasion  he  became  so  impassioned 
that  the  domestics  were  alarmed,  fearing  an  accident  had 
happened.  If  a  humorous  selection  was  read,  his  hearty 
laughter  proved  contagious  to  all;  if  a  serious  seleotioo, 
he  would  here  and  there  interrupt  the  reader  to  make  a 
few  explanatory  remarks  or  comments. 


444  THE  LAST  SEVEN  MONTHS 


A  JT7VSNILE  WORK  BEVIVIED 

By  the  arrival  of  Liszt,  on  Nov.  19,  the  familj  circle 
was  agreeably  enlarged.  Liszt  was  an  earlier  riser  even 
than  Wagner.  He  got  up  at  four,  and  devoted  the  morn- 
ing hours  to  composition.^  After  work  hours,  for  the 
rest  of  the  day,  he  and  his  son-in-law  were  inseparable. 
In  the  evening,  the  great  pianist  sometimes  played  alone, 
or  accompanied  the  young  folks  when  they  sang  a  chorus* 
from  Parsifal,  Wagner  was  particularly  fond,  in  his 
last  weeks,  of  dwelling  on  scenes  of  his  youth,  and  play- 
ing his  earliest  compositions.  A  special  occasion  for 
this  was  given  by  the  discovery  of  his  long-lost  sym- 
phony. In  a  previous  chapter  (I.  29-^1)  we  tn^^ed  the 
history  of  this  symphony  to  the  time  when  it  was  lost. 
It  had  been  performed  tliree  times,  —  in  the  summer  of 

1832,  at  Prague,  on  Christmas,  1832,  and  on  Jan.  10, 

1833,  in  Leipzig.  The  score  was  then  submitted  to 
Mendelssohn,  and  that  is  the  last  that  has  ever  been 
heard  of  it.  Fortunately,  the  separate  orchestral  parts 
had  not  been  given  to  Mendelssohn;  they  might  still  be 
in  existence,  but  where?  So  thought  Wagner  about  the 
time  of  the  first  Bayreuth  Festival.  He  had  founded  a 
sort  of  Wagner  Museum  for  his  son  Siegfried,  and  he  was 
anxious  to  add  the  manuscript  of  his  symphony  to  this 
collection.  So  he  asked  Wilhelm  Tappert  to  use  his 
detective's  genius  for  its   discovery.      Tappert  asked 

^  In  Namber  363  of  the  Letters  of  Liszt,  published  by  Breitkopf  imd 
Hartel  (1893)  reference  is  made  to  a  composition  for  piano  and  rioUn 
or  violoncello,  with  a  transcription  for  piano  solo :  "  The  title  is  La 
Lugubre  Oondole  (the  moaming  gondola).  As  if  guided  by  a  presen- 
timent, I  wrote  this  elegy  in  Venice,  six  weeks  before  Wagner's  death." 


A  JUVENILE  WORK  REVIVED  446 

everywhere,  at  first  in  Mendelssohn's  family  and  of  the 
executors  of  his  will,  then  in  Magdeburg,  Riga,  and 
Dresden.  At  last,  in  November,  1877,  Professor  Fflrste- 
nau,  royal  librarian  in  Dresden,  succeeded  in  finding  in 
a  box,  which  Wagner  had  left  in  the  house  of  the  tenor 
Tichatschek,  when  he  fled  from  Dresden,  the  manuscripts 
of  three  of  his  earlier  overtures,  and  the  violin  part  of 
some  other  composition.  These  were  sent  to  Tappert, 
who,  from  some  signs,  discovered  that  the  violin  part 
must  belong  to  the  symphony  sought  for.  Further  search 
revealed  the  other  parts,  excepting  the  two  trombones. 
Tappert  forthwith  sent  the  discovered  treasure  to  Bay- 
reuth,  where  Frau  Cosima  surprised  and  delighted  her 
husband  by  playing  to  him  the  motive  of  one  of  the  move- 
ments; he  jumped  up  excitedly,  and  exclaimed,  ^^My  old 
symphony  —  that  is  it  I " 

Having  recovered  the  parts  of  the  score,  he  asked  his 
secretary,  Anton  Seidl,  to  put  them  together  into  a  new 
score,  and  the  missing  trombone  parts  were  added.  Then, 
for  six  years,  the  symphony  rested  in  the  ''Siegfried 
Archiv."  In  December,  1882,  it  occurred  to  him  that 
''although  the  recovery  could  have  no  other  significance 
than  that  of  a  friendly  family  tradition,"  it  would  be 
pleasant  to  hear  the  work  once  more.  His  wife's  birth- 
day, on  Christmas,  was  selected  as  the  date  of  the  per- 
formance, to  which  only  a  few  friends  of  the  family  were 
to  be  invited.  Count  Coutin,  president  of  the  Liceo 
Benedetto  Marcello,  kindly  placed  his  concert-room  and 
orchestra  at  the  disposal  of  Wagner,  who  says  (X. 
403):  — 

"  Let  me  testify,  first  of  all,  that  the  rendering  by  the  orchestra 
of  the  Liceo  greatly  satisfied  me,  owing,  no  doubt,  to  the  number 


44G  TBS  LAST  SEVBS  M0yTB8 

of  rehearsals,  which  long  ago  at  Leipzig  hml  beun  refused  t 
The  nataral  gifts  of  Ilalinn  musiciaos  for  tone  ut 
might  lend  to  excellent  developments  it  Italian  taste  would  inteRst 
itseU  in  German  instnimentAl  music.  Hjr  sympbon;  leallf  aeened 
lo  please." 

The  diatin fished  Italian  critic,  Filippo  Filippi,  who 
happened  to  be  ia  Venice  at  this  time,  wrote  that  — 

"  Wagner  attends  Uie  daily  rehearsals  of  tills,  bia  jurenile  oom- 
posilion,  with  the  greatest  ardor.  He  is  sometimes  nervous  and 
Inilahle.  Altogetliei  he  is  well  pleased  with  the  oichestn  at  the 
Liceo,  wbose  members  applaud  enlhuaiastically  at  tlie  end  of  every 
dirision  of  the  eymphony. 

"The  style  o[  it  is  an  imitation  of  Beethoven,  hot  remains  per- 
fectly individu^.  The  ideas  are  new,  full  ol  Impulse,  splendidly 
harmonious,  admirably  developed,  and  instrumented  In  a  way  that 
shows  traces  of  what  has  become  the  polyphonic  system  of  the  last 


W^:ner  himaelE  (X.  403-405)  was  rather  inclined  to 
poke  fun  at  thia  "old-fashioned  "  work,  especially  at  the 
kind  of  themes  which,  as  he  pregnantly  said  (and  this 
applies  to  many  other  symphonies),  "do  very  well  for 
counterpoint,  but  express  little"  —  one  of  those  terse 
sayings  which  contain  a  world  of  philosophy.' 

■  The  Bymphony  lasts  about  forty-five  minutes.  It  is  writUn  tor 
lari^e  orchestra,  includiDK  trombones.  Mr.  J.  8.  Sbedlock  la  do  doubt 
right  it)  pronouncing  the  scherzo  the  most  original  movement,  and  in 
saying  that  "  looking  at  the  sympbony  as  a  whole.  It  is  of  coQ^der«h!a 
Interest,  and  quite  as  full  of  promise  as  any  of  the  early  symphonies  of 
Schubert."  An  elaborate  terhntcal  analysis  of  It  may  be  found  in 
Upton's  Standard  Sympkoniei.  Wagner  himself  did  not  wish  this 
symphony  to  be  given  to  the  world ;  but  his  helr«  fuBtly  decided  to 
satisfy  universal  curiosity  by  allowing  the  agent  Wolff  (In  return 
for  812,000)  the  right  of  lending  the  score  lor  a  yeai  to  ooucert- 


ILLNE88  AND  DEATH  447 


ILLNESS  AND  DEATH 

Extremes  have  never  met  more  strikingly  than  they 
did  when  the  aged  Master,  in  the  zenith  of  his  glory^ 
resurrected  this  early  work  exactly  half  a  century  after 
its  creation.  When  he  laid  aside  the  bd,ton,  he  ex- 
claimedy  "I  have  conducted  for  the  last  time."  His 
health  had  been  in  a  precarious  condition  ever  since  he 
had  arrived  in  Venice,  and  of  late  it  had  taken  a  turn 
for  the  worse,  so  that  his  mind  was  darkened  by  pre- 
sentiments. He  was  fortunate  in  having  been  able^  soon 
after  his  arrival,  to  place  himself  under  the  care  of 
a  first-class  German  physician.  Dr.  Friedrich  Keppler. 
The  fact  that  Dr.  Keppler  did  not  appreciate  his  music 
made  him  none  the  less  welcome  as  an  adviser  and  inti- 
mate friend,  to  whom  his  famous  patient  not  only  con- 
fided his  physical  troubles,  but  many  of  his  other  affairs. 
When  the  symptoms  were  unfavorable,  Wagner  was 
particularly  solicitous  that  his  family  should  be  kept  in 
ignorance  of  the  fact.  It  cannot  be  denied  that  he  was 
not  a  model  patient.  He  constantly  violated  the  doctor's 
orders,  especially  in  regard  to  mental  work,  for  which  he 
had  the  same  uncontrollable  passion  as  in  his  youth ;  and 
when  his  strength  failed  he  resorted  to  coffee,  tea,  and 
other  stimulants  to  spur  on  the  tired  brain,  which  needed 
absolute  rest,  especially  as  he  had  heart-trouble,  in  which 
continued  rest  is  the  best  remedy.  When  he  had  a  bad 
day,  he  put  the  blame  on  an  error  of  diet,  or  on  the 
weather,  which  indeed  did,  more  than  ever,  influence  his 
health.  When  Dr.  Keppler  took  charge  of  him,  he  found 
him  indulging  in  the  pernicious  habit  of  taking  all  sorts 


448  THE  LAST  SSVEX  MONTHS 

of  medicines  that  had  been  recommended  to  him  by 
previous  physicians.  The  original  source  of  his  troable 
was  doubtless  his  dyspepsia,  the  result  of  his  starration 
in  Paris  and  subsequent  careless  habits  of  diet.  In  the 
last  months  of  his  life  he  suffered  from  dilatation  of  the 
stomach  and  other  abdominal  troubles,  which  gradually 
affected  the  heart,  and  led  to  its  enlargement  and  fatty 
degeneration.'  The  occasional  difficulty  of  breathing 
resulting  from  this  heart  trouble  (especially  in  depressing 
weather)  gave  rise  to  his  curious  habit  of  putting  bis 
hands  on  his  back  when  walking,  to  facilitate  respiration; 
indeed,  his  tailor  had  for  years  made  overcoats  for  him 
with  two  pockets  on  the  back  for  the  liands.  Locomotion 
had  a  tendency  to  relieve  liia  distress,  consequently  be 
often  walked  about  the  palace  for  hours  at  a  time.  After 
New  Year  his  symptoms  became  ^gravated.  He  would 
sometimes  go  for  a  walk,  but  return  in  a  few  moments, 
breathing  with  difficulty  and  groaning.  He  now  began 
to  pay  more  attention  to  the  doctor's  warnings,  but  every 
respite  sent  him  back  to  his  work.  He  had  several 
fainting  fits,  and  on  recovering,  his  first  care  was  that 
his  wife  and  children  should  not  hear  about  it.  Liszt 
left  Venice  toward  the  middle  of  the  month;  on  Jan.  13 
the  two  friends  embraced  for  the  last  time;  exactly  a 
month  later  one  of  the  hearts  ceased  to  beat.  A  few 
days  before  this  catastrophe,  Wagner  had  planned  an 
excursion  to  Verona  with  Siegfried,  which  the  doctor 
approved  of;  but  bad  weather  frustrated  his  intentions. 
On  the  twelfth  he  felt  uncommonly  well  —  unfortunately, 

'  9ee  Dr.  Keppler's  report  prefiied  to  Perl's  AicAaril  Warner  in 
Venedig.  The  hertiial  trouble  had  been  aggravated  by  a  badly  adjuawd 
bfiadage,  the  corractlon  ol  which  gkve  the  patient  a  pleaaant  lemponuy 


ILLSSaS  AND  DEATH  449 

for  it  apparently  led  him  to  overexert  himself  fatally  on 
the  unlucky  thirteenth.  On  this  last  d&y  he  rose  as 
usual  at  six,  and  busied  himself,  it  is  believed,  wiih  the 
preparations  and  instructions  for  the  coning  summer's 
Festival  at  Bayreuth.  Conductor  Levi  of  Munich  had 
.  just  been  in  Venice  to  bring  him  the  latest  news.  It 
was  raining  in  torrents,  but  the  gondola  was  ordered,  as 
usual,  to  be  ready  at  four,  in  hopes  of  a  change.  He 
gave  instmctions  that  he  must  not  be  disturbed  before 
two  o'clock.  The  maid,  Betty  Btirgel,  remained  in  the 
anteroom,  according  to  her  custom,  in  case  he  should 
want  anything.  At  one  o'clock  she  was  summoned  by 
the  bell.  Wagner  asked  if  the  gondola  had  been  ordered^ 
and  said  he  wished  to  dine  alone ;  a  plate  of  sonp  would 
suffice,  as  he  was  not  feeling  well.  The  soup  was  brought, 
and  Betty  resumed  her  place.  Shortly  afterwards  she 
heard  her  master  walking  about  the  room,  conghing 
persistently.  She  felt  alarmed,  and  was  about  to  call 
Cosima,  when  she  heard  her  name  faintly  called.  She 
hastened  into  the  room  and  foond  Wagner  lying  on  bis 
sofa,  partly  covered  by  his  fur,  his  feet  on  a  chair, 
his  features  terribly  distorted.  With  difficulty  he  said, 
"Call  my  wife  and  the  doctor."  These  were  the  last 
words  that  came  from  his  lips.  His  death-struggle  was 
hard  and  agonizing. 

Betty  hastened  to  call  Cosima,  and  several  messengers 
were  despatched  after  Dr.  Keppler.  When  Cosima  hur- 
ried into  her  husband's  room  she  found  him  dying;  but 
she  did  not  know  it.  She  &ncied  he  was  merely  in  a 
swoon,  and  tried  various  means  of  restoring  him.  When 
the  doctor  arrived  and  informed  her  of  the  true  state  of 
aSaii^  she  ottered  a  piercing  cry,  clasped  the  body  in 


I 


450  TBB  LAST  SEVEN  MONTHS 

her  anna,  and  fainted  away.  For  twenty-sir  hours  she 
/efused  to  leave  the  body  or  to  take  any  nourishmeat,  till 
she  swooned  again  and  could  be  removed.  The  news  of 
Wagner'a  death  waa  all  over  Venice  in  on  hourj  at  every 
street-comer,  people  were  saying,  "  Richard  Wagner  ia 
dead."  Five  thousand  telegrams  relating  to  this  event 
were  despatched  from,  Venice  in  twenty -four  hours. 
Henry  Perl  met  the  Master's  gondolier  at  the  station, 
with  a  bundle  of  telegrams  in  his  band,  and  almost 
speechless  from  grief,  but  gasping  out  something  about 
"the  good,  noble,  only  man,  who  never  spoke  an  unkind 
word  to  US,  however  ill  he  waa."  A  despatch  arrived 
from  King  Ludwig,  rei^uesting  that  the  body  should  not 
be  touched  until  his  messenger  bad  arrived.  Deputations 
oame,  offering  a  grand  and  Incoming  funeral  pageant  on 
the  part  of  the  city  of  Venice;  but  the  widow  could  not 
endure  the  thought  of  it,  and  declined  the  kind  offer. 
Among  the  wreaths  sent  were  two  from  King  Ludwig 
and  the  King  of  Italy.  King  Humbert's  wreath  was 
trimmed  with  black,  red,  and  gold  libbanda.  King 
Ludwig's  was  tied  with  blue  and  white  satin  streamers, 
with  this  inscription  in  golden  letters':  "  To  the  Master, 
Richard  Wagner,  from  liis  devoted  admirer  and  King, 
Ludwig." 

Herr  Gross  of  Bayreuth  came  as  the  King's  messenger 
to  superintend  the  transfer  of  the  body  to  German  soil. 
Liszt  fainted  when  the  death-message  waa  brought  to 
him  at  Pesth,  and  bis  prostration  was  so  great  that  he 
could  not  come  to  Venice.  Hans  Richter  came  fiom 
Vienna,  whence  also  a  superb  sarcophagus  had  been 
ordered.  In  the  meantime  the  city  of  Venice  had  made 
a  second  offer  of  an  official  funeral,  which  again  was 


ILLNESS  AND  DEATH  451 

declined  by  the  widow.  The  Palace  had  to  be  surrounded 
with  guards  to  keep  off  the  crowd.  To  the  room  where 
the  body  lay  no  one  was  admitted  except  a  few  friends, 
including  Dr.  Keppler,  Hans  Richter,  and  the  Countess 
Hatzfeld.  Cosima,  in  the  agony  of  her  grief,  had  cut  off 
her  long  blonde  hair,  which  her  husband  had  always 
loved  to  have  her  wear  loose  over  her  shoulder,  and 
placed  it  on  a  red  satin  cushion  under  his  head,  to  be 
buried  with  him.  Gosima  did  not  wish  a  death-mask, 
but  it  was  taken,  nevertheless,  by  the  sculptor  Ben- 
venuti,  without  her  knowledge. 

It  was  on  a  sultry,  rainy  day,  with  thunder  and  light- 
ning, that  Wagner  had  died.  On  the  sixteenth,  when 
the  body  was  to  be  taken  to  Germany,  the  sun  shone 
brightly  in  the  blue  sky.  At  two  o^clock,  eight  men, 
including  Richter,  Keppler,  and  Joukowsky,  bore  the 
coffin  from  the  Palace  down  to  the  black  gondola,  fol- 
lowed by  servants  with  the  wreaths.  The  family  soon 
followed,  and  boarded  other  black  gondolas.  It  was  the 
widow's  express  wish  that  there  should  be  no  funeral 
music;  she  feared  it  would  rend  her  heart  in  twain.  So 
the  procession  moved  along  the  canal  in  solemn  silence, 
broken  only  by  the  tolling  of  a  distant  bell.  The  canal 
was  lined  with  hundreds  of  gondolas  filled  with  sympa- 
thetic Italians  who  regretted  that  the  widow  had  refused 
the  offer  of  an  official  fimeral. 

By  order  of  the  city  authorities,  the  railway  station 
had  been  shut  off  to  all  but  passengers,  the  official  repre- 
sentatives of  Venice,  and  the  funeral  cortege.  The  coffin 
was  placed  in  a  special  mourning  car,  draped  in  black, 
which  had  been  sent  from  Vienna;  a  parlor-car  behind 
it  was  reserved  for  the  mourners.     These  cars  were 


452  TBX  LAST  SSVSJt  JtONTBS 

attached  to  the  tegular  express  train  &a  tax  as  Vicenza, 
whence  they  were  taken  as  an  extra  train  via  Verona  and 
Munich  to  Bayreuth.  Special  orders  had  been  given  by 
the  Italian,  Austrian,  and  German  government  officials 
that  the  train  should  not  be  detained  or  examined  at  the 
frontiers, 

BDKIAL  AT  BATaBCTH 

Nowhere  had  the  news  of  Wagner's  death  produced 
more  consternation  than  at  Bayreuth,  the  eity  rejuve- 
nated by  his  geniuB.  The  whole  town  was  draped  in 
mourning.  Before  the  arrival  of  the  funeral  train,  the 
hotels  had  again  filled  up,  aa  during  Festival  days.  A 
black  flag  floated  over  the  theatre  on  the  hill,  black  flags 
darkened  the  windows  along  the  main  avenues,  and  the 
street-lamps  were  draped  in  black.  Bepresentatives  of 
various  German  princes,  of  theatres,  of  the  leading  W^;- 
ner  Societies,  eminent  conductors  and  other  musicians 
and  friends  of  the  deceased  were  present  to  do  him  the 
last  honor.  It  was  the  widow's  desire  that  the  body 
should  be  buried  in  presence  of  only  a  few  intimate 
friends,  and  without  any  address  or  music.  The  public 
ceremony,  therefore,  took  place  at  the  station,  after  the 
coffin  had  been  removed  from  the  car  to  a  tribune.  The 
proceedings  began  at  four  o'clock,  on  the  seventeenth, 
with  the  playing  of  Siegfried's  Death  March.  Burgo- 
master Muncker  then  delivered  a  brief  and  touching 
address,  followed  by  Friedrich  Feustel,  from  whose 
remarks'  two  sentences  may  be  quoted:  "Future  gen- 
erations will  find  it  difficult  to  believe  what  they  will 

impleM  In  the  ifeut  ZeiftcAr(/t  /Sr 


BUBIAL  AT  BATBEUTH  468 

read  aboat  the  impediments  that  were  placed  in  this 
great  man's  way  in  his  efforts  to  attain  his  ideal."  ''The 
performance  of  Parsifal  this  year  will  be  the  most  dig- 
nified memorial  service  for  the  deceased." 

A  special  touch  of  reminiscent  pathos  was  given  by 
the  arrangement  that  after  these  addresses  the  Bayreutii 
Liederkranz  should  sing  the  chorus  on  motives  from 
Weber's  operas  which  Wagner  had  arranged  for  that 
composer's  burial  in  Dresden.  The  procession  was  then 
marshalled  into  line:  first  a  military  band,  then  a  car- 
riage loaded  with  wreaths.  This  was  followed  by  the 
hearse^  drawn  by  four  black  horses,  attended  by  all  the 
local  clergymen,  and  the  pall-bearers,  including  Albert 
Niemann,  Anton  Seidl,  Wilhelmj,  Forges,  Fritz  Brandt, 
Levi,  and  others.  Behind  the  hearse  came  King  Lud- 
wig's  representative.  Count  Fappenheim;  then  friends 
of  the  family,  deputations  of  cities,  theatres,  and  Wag- 
ner Societies;  artists,  journalists,  and  officers;  then 
another  band  followed  by  the  citizens  of  Bayreuth, 
thousands  of  whom  had  assembled  at  the  station.  At 
5.30  the  procession  moved  through  the  city  towards  the 
villa  Wahnfried,  to  the  funeral  dirges  of  the  bands, 
deepened  by  the  doleful  sounds  of  all  the  bells  in  the 
city.  Half-way  down  the  Bennweg  (now  Richard  Wag- 
ner Street),  the  music  stopped,  and  the  villa  was  reached 
in  silence.  The  coffin  was  lifted  off  the  carriage  and 
carried  into  the  garden,  where  Eva  and  Siegfried  Wagner 
awaited  it.  It  was  then  carried  to  the  grave  behind  the 
house,  followed  by  members  of  the  family,  friends, 
artists,  and  journalists.  At  the  open  grave,  Deacon 
Kesselmann  spoke  a  short  prayer  during  which  a  touch- 
ing incident  occurred.    Two  of  Wagner's  large  black 


454       TUE  LAST  SEVEN  MOSTHa 

dogs  had  followed  the  procession,  and  as  Eva  and  Sieg- 
fried sank  down  on  their  knees,  one  of  them  c 
licked  their  faces,  aa  if  sympathizing  with  their  grief; 
and  why  should  he  not  ?  Had  he  not  also  lost  his  best 
friend  ?  After  the  prayer,  all  but  the  children  left  the 
grave,  such  being  the  desire  of  Cosima,  who  now  joined 
her  family  to  weep  her  tears  unobserved  by  other  eyes. 
For  mouths  and  years  she  watched  and  wept  over  this 
grave  every  evening.  The  Parsifal  Festival  was  again 
held  in  the  summer,  but  she  was  not  accessible  to  artists 
or  visitors  —  not  even  to  her  father,  Liszt.  The  pleasant 
duty  of  thanking  the  artists,  after  the  last  performance, 
for  their  continued  devotion,  devolved  on  her  children. 
Before  the  next  Festival  was  due,  however,  she  had  made 
a  heroic  effort  to  subdue  her  grief  sufficiently  to  begin 
what  was  to  be  the  work  of  her  life  —  the  attempt  to 
carry  out  Wagner's  intentions  as  to  the  periodical  model 
performances  of  all  his  works  at  Bayreuth.  The  grave, 
too,  which  had  been  jealously  guarded  from  stranger- 
eyes,  was  made  accessible.  Almost  every  Bayreuth  pil- 
grim now  pays  it  a  visit.  It  is  a  low,  square  mound, 
covered  by  a  large  horizontal  marble  slab,  its  sloping 
sides  now  overrun  with  ivy.  Low,  shady  trees  surround 
it,  and  visitors  who  approach  it  from  the  side  of  the  city 
park  are  prevented  by  an  iron  grating  from  despoiling  it 
of  its  ivy  dress,  but  not  from  throwing  on  the  white 
marble  slab  the  wreaths  and  bouquets  with  which  it  is 
always  covered  during  the  Festival  weeks.  A  plain  rustic 
bench  stands  on  one  side,  and  a  narrow  path  leads  thence 
to  the  widow  Coaima's  garden. 


WAGNER  AND  WAGNERISM 


PEBSONAL  TRAITS 


Had  he  lived  three  months  longer,  Richard  Wagner 
would  have  attained  the  three-score-and-ten  years  allotted 
to  man  by  the  Scriptures.  Preparations  to  celebrate  his 
seventieth  birthday  had  been  made  in  various  parts  of 
Grermany ;  but  the  jubilation  was  changed  to  sorrow,  and 
Siegfried's  Death  March  had  to  be  substituted  for  the 
Huldigungsmarsch.  Seventy  years  iro  long  life  —  twice 
the  average  duration  of  a  human  generation,  and  about 
twice  as  long  as  the  life  of  Mozart  (thirty-five),  Schubert 
(thirty-one),  Weber  (forty),  Mendelssohn  (thirty-eight), 
Chopin  (forty).  Wagner,  however,  hoped  for  twenty 
years  more.  His  family  had  quite  made  up  their  minds 
that  he  was  to  live  ninety  years,  and  he  used  to  remark 
that  even  that  would  not  be  enough  to  allow  him  to  put 
on  paper  all  the  schemes  he  had  in  his  head.  What  were 
these  schemes  —  musical  or  literary?  On  this  point  the 
widow  Gosima  alone  can  perhaps  enlighten  the  world. 
The  rumor  that  there  was  to  be  a  new  Buddhistic  music- 
drama,  The  Victor  (or  The  PenUent)^  was  evidently 
without  foundation,  for  the  material  collected  for  such 
a  drama  was,  as  we  have  seen,  partly  incorporated  in 
Parsifal,  There  were  also  rumors  that  he  contemplated 
studies  tending  to  a  revival  of  Greek  music  —  to  which 

466 


fFAGNBB  AND   WAONEBIBM 


4 


456 


BO  credence  need  be  given.  It  seems  most  probable  that 
he  intended  to  write  some  more  philosophical  treatises, 
in  which  case  the  world's  loss  is  not  excessive;  for  in 
philosophy  (the  branch  of  leatbetics,  of  course,  excepted), 
his  mind  remained  to  the  end  a  gallery  of  echoes,  and 
his  style  obscure. 

Whatever  his  subject  might  have  been,  we  may  be  sure 
that  had  he  lived  another  decade  or  two  another  music- 
drama  or  several  more  volumes  of  prose  writings  would 
have  been  given  to  the  world.  A  passion  for  hard  work, 
amounting  at  times  to  fanaticism,  was  one  of  his  most 
conspicuous  traits,  and  lay  at  the  bottom  of  the  unsocia- 
bility and  inaccessibility  with  which  he  was  so  often 
reproached.  Could  he  have  curbed  this  eagerness  for 
work,  he  might  have  lived  longer.  He  wrote  up  to  the 
very  hour  of  his  death.  The  last  thing  we  possess  irom. 
hia  pen  is  a  fragment  of  an  essay  intended  for  the  Bay- 
reuther  BteUler.  Its  beginning  is  dated  Feb.  11,  and  its 
title  is  "The  Feminine  Element  in  Humanity,"  To  its 
contents  reference  waa  made  in  a  previous  chapter 
("  Romantic  Love  in  Wagner's  Operas  ") ;  here  I  merely 
wish  to  call  attention  to  tbe  interesting  fact  that  the  last 
sentence  he  ever  wrote  for  public  use  relates  to  what  he 
calls  "the  beautiful  trait"  in  the  Buddhist  legend  which 
vindicates  woman's  claim  to  the  saintly  privileges  previ- 
ously arrogated  by  man  alone.  It  was  fitting  that  one 
who  so  adored  women  as  he  did,  and  was  worshipped  by 
them  in  return,  should  thus  die  with  a  good  word  for 
them  on  his  lips.  In  one  letter  he  refers  to  himself  as 
"  I  who  praised  women  more  than  Frauenlob  " ;  in  another, 
he  exclaims  with  reference  to  the  newly  created  Briinn- 
hilde,  "  I  believe  I  can  assure  you  that  never  before  has 


'*  — ^m      ■  :  ^  . — 


PEBSONAL  TRAITS  467 

woman  been  glorified  as  in  this  poem."  And  ^ain: 
"Women  aie  the  music  of  life."  In  saying  that  "with 
women's  hearts  it  has  always  gone  well  with  my  art," 
he  was  right  too;  for  the  favor  shown  to  him  personally, 
and  to  his  art  by  women,  was,  from  the  beginning,  so 
marked  that  ungallant  opponents  fancied  they  had  scored 
a  great  point  gainst  the  Wagnerites  in  general  by  refer* 
ring  to  them  with  the  feminine  ending,  as  Wagnerianerin- 
nenl 

The  woman  who  worshipped  him  most  of  all  was  his 
second  wife ;  her  devotion  assumed  the  valuable  form  of 
saving  him  much  of  the  drudgery  of  the  last  twenty  years 
of  his  life.  To  her,  among  other  things,  he  dictated  his 
Autobiography  (reaching  to  1866),  in  three  volumes,*  and 
it  is  said  that  a  continnatioo  of  this  was  one  of  the  tasks 
set  for  the  winter  in  which  he  died.  In  his  autobio- 
graphic writings,  Wagner  is  usually  at  his  best, — bright, 
witty,  entertaining,  — whereas  hia  other  prose  works  are 
of  very  unequal  merit  as  regards  clearness  of  style  and 
thought;  many  of  them  were  written  "against  the  grain," 
in  the  frantic  desire  to  enlighten  the  world  as  to  his 
aims;  yet  when  he  had  once  plunged  into  them,  he  gave 
bis  whole  energy  to  his  task,  as  much  as  when  eng^^ 
in  the  more  colonial  composition  of  music  or  poetry.     . 

When  he  was  with  friends  —  or  enemies  —  he  gener- 
ally did  most  of  the  talking,  being  in  this  respect  tha 
opposite  of  Schumann.  When  he  was  alone,  —  as  he 
usually  was,  preferring,  like  most  men  of  genius,  solitude 

1  In  OwWilcdn'i  Kalalog,  m.  IS,  there  is  an  extract  trom  one  of 
Warier**  letten  to  ft  Bm*1  pabllaher  In  ISTI,  beginalng:  "1  herewith 
UDd  yoa  the  nozt  iheet  ot  manmcript,  which  cont^ne  the  coudiwloB 
of  the  Momd  volnme.  TUj  1b  Indicated  <m  gtga  062."  lb*  third 
Tolnme  «M  printed  by  Bnigei  in  Bayrenth. 


'•Mluilmj  the  leti, 

'^^  published  J;^ 

"^nt persona-  inn. 


FXRSOyAL  TRAITS  469 

Tolumes  of  memoirs,  will  make  about  twenty;  and  ail 
this  in  addition  to  a  dozen  BcoreB  all  but  two  or  three  of 
which  contain  musical  material  enough  for  a  dozen  ordi- 
nary Italian,  French,  or  German  operas  I  As  an  inde&t- 
igable  worker,  Wagner  certainly  has  had  few  rivals. 

He  was  fond,  too,  of  reading,  and  his  well-stocked 
and  carefully  selected  library  of  musical,  mythological, 
dramatic,  historic,  philosophical,  and  other  books  was  the 
wonder  of  all  who  were  privileged  to  visit  his  villa  at 
Bayreuth.  Not  being  a  good  linguist,  he  was  obliged 
to  read  many  famous  books  in  translations.  Mr.  Dann- 
reuther  says  that, 

"with  8h&kMpear«  (In  0«nuan,  of  eonne)  he  wis  ■■  *«.niiii>r  h 
wltb  Beetfaoven.  To  hear  him  rekd  ui  ict  or  k  scene  wm  ■  delight- 
never  to  be  fo^tten.  The  effect,  to  use  liis  own  words  kbont 
Shakespeare,  wbh  that  of  '  an  improvisation  of  the  hlgheat  poetic 
value.'  When  In  particularly  good  spirits,  he  would  lake' up  a 
comic  scene  and  render  it  with  the  ezubeiaut  merriment  of 
a  child." 

On  some  of  the  most  conspicuous  personal  traits,  tastes, 
and  habits,  it  is  not  necessary  to  dwell  here  again,  as 
they  have  been  sufficiently  discussed  and  illustrated  in 
preceding  pages,  especially  those  headed  Truth  in  Fic- 
tion, Life  in  Ziirich,  A  Modem  Prometheus,  Hygiene 
and  Gastronomy,  Love  of  Nature  and  Travel,  Boyal  and 
Other  Visitors,  Love  of  Luxury,  Love  of  Animals,  Play- 
fulness and  Humor,  etc.*  His  appearance  has  also  been 
repeatedly  described,  but  a  brief  r^um^  may  not  be  out 
of  place  here.  If  we  look  at  his  face,  the  two  features 
that  first  strike  us  are  the  noble,  massive  forehead — the 


aeiicate  lip,,  ,|,;^; 

/'™«.enosed„„, 
'"a  jet  without, 

,t  "PP"'""",  ooav, 
'W  «»d  »iiB  ^„ 

Wagner's  .wti„. 
ta»«»altatile«£ 

«,„,,    °'"""«ct8r.     a 
'^"-Mtolsuoer.W.-J! 


PERSONAL  TRAITS  461 

quality :  it  is  shunned  and  hated,  and  by  way  of  supply- 
ing a  pretext  for  this,  its  possessor  is  accused  of  all  sorts 
of  fictitious  faults."  Never  was  a  man  more  lied  about, 
by  envious  colleagues  and  common  gossip,  than  Wagner. 
Not  that  he  was  free  from  faults;  far  from  it.  Great 
mountains  throw  deep  shadows,  and  the  shadow  of  Wag- 
ner's displeasure  often  chilled  everything  about  him. 
Yet  I  believe  that  every  careful  reader  of  the  foregoing 
pages  must  have  6ome  to  the  conclusion  that  he  was  more 
ainned  against  than  sinning.  His  faults  were  such  as  are 
common  to  reformers,  perhaps  inseparable  from  them— * 
a  violent  temper  (more  violent  perhaps  than  Handel's  or 
Beethoven's),  a  blunt  lack  of  tact  and  diplomacy,  a  self- 
ish absorption  in  his  own  work  and  plans,  an  egotistic 
contempt  for  the  interests  of  others,  a  reckless  disposi- 
tion in  regard  to  money  matters,  an  unsocial  attitude 
toward  his  colleagues  and  the  world  in  general. 

These  faults,  however,  were  the  inevitable  shadows  of 
his  virtues.  '^  Revolutions  are  not  made  with  civilities." 
Had  he  not  used  his  club  against  intendants,  singers, 
critics,  and  Philistines  in  general,  he  could  not  have 
personally  carried  out  his  various  reforms,  and  his  art 
might  have  had  to  wait  a  century  or  two  for  recognition, 
like  Bach's.  Mr.  Dannreuther  remarks  that  ''towards 
the  public,  and  the  world  of  actors,  singers,  musicians, 
his  habitual  attitude  was  one  of  defiance.  He  appeared 
on  the  point  of  losing  his  temper,  showed  impatience 
and  irritation,  and  seemed  to  delight  in  tearing  men  and 
things  to  pieces."  True,  but  why  was  this  so  ?  Was 
it  not  simply  because  things  were  out  of  joint,  and  he 
wanted  to  right  them  ?  In  Munich,  and  at  Bayreuth, 
where  the  singers  and  players  had  the  good  will  and 


.   -"«  no  ],ar,,5 

'»«»•:«.  defiance  a 
■?«J  <n  that  aentenc, 

I'M,  however.  Mao. 
^  'Wth  had  thei,  ; 
work      «p      , 

'"""'•  »'."h,„..,t 
to«7„„e3„, 

"""*««*',  before  h, 
opera.  pe„„„a„         ™ 

"I'M  of  hi,  „o4,  beta 
P'odueed  a.  Yie,;  ™ 

^"r.«  and  ove/bel 

17  "'«'""■  hia  ear; 
«Md  disagreeable  ..pe,,, 

^4 '.aatlitad,  toward 
To  I»  o 


fESSOITAL  TRAITS  468 

musical  form,  when  he  was  the  real  creator  of  organic 
form  for  dramatic  music;  to  be  accused  of  despising  and 
abusing  the  great  masters,  when  no  one  ever  worshipped 
them  as  he  did;  to  be  accused  of  egotism,  commercialism, 
puffery,  sybaritic  indulgence,,  when  he  had  really  sacri- 
ficed the  comforts  of  almost  his  whole  life  to  the  attain- 
ment of  a  seemingly  impossible  ideal;  to  be  accused  of  all 
these  things,  not  ten  times,  but  ten  thousand  times,  until 
all  the  world  believed  the  mammoth  lies,  —  was  this  an 
experience  to  make  a  man  amiable  in  his  feelings  and 
conduct  toward  the  world?  Was  he  a  contemptible 
beggar  because  he  was  not  ashamed  to  accept  money  from 
a  few  friends  who  loved  him?  Was  he  not  right  in 
saying  "whoever  helps  me,  only  helps  my  art  through 
me,  and  the  sacred  cause  for  which  I  am  fighting  "?  He 
was  an  egotist;  his  "sacred  cause"  absorbed  all  his 
thoughts,  all  his  energies;  his  letters  are  all  about  him- 
self; when  he  helped  others  by  teaching  them  to  sing 
or  conduct,  it  was  chiefly  with  a  view  to  the  interpre- 
tation of  his  own  works.  A  colossal  egotism,  no  doubt, 
but  was  not  his  task  colossal  too?  Where  should  he  have 
found  time  and  energy  to  help  others  in  their  schemes, 
when  he  himself  needed  hundreds  to  help  him  carry  out 
his  own?  Such  egotism  is  not  only  pardonable;  it  is 
desirable  and  praiseworthy. 

There  were  times  when  Wagner's  friends  and  admirers 
were  made  to  feel  his  displeasure,  as  on  one  occasion 
when  an  enthusiastic  bandmaster,  after  serenading  him 
with  the  Tannhduser  March  and  the  Lohengrin  Bridal 
Chorus,  went  to  his  room  to  receive  than^  for  his  atten- 
tion, and  was,  instead,  received  by  the  angry  words, 
"Have  I  composed  nothing  but  those  two  everlasting 


*k  ^  °ff  chained  all  ♦!, 
"•  Grand  Ca».l  ^  '' 
""■•'WtudT^r    '^' 

"'/K.  n.S'"  ''  "' 


PKSSOyAL  TBAIT8  466 

charge  that  his  music  is  all  dissonance  and  no  melody. 
His  heart  was  overflowing  with  tender  love.  He  loved 
his  art  fanatically,  and  would  have  gone  through  the  fire 
for  it,  like  a  religious  martyr;  he  loved  nature,  he  loved 
animals,  he  loved  his  friends,  and  his  heart  was  aching 
to  have  all  the  world  as  friends  through  his  art.  He 
wanted  sympathy,  wanted  to  be  encouraged  in  his  devo- 
tion to  his  ideal;  yet,  for  many  years,  Liszt  and  a  few 
other  friends  were  the  only  ones  who  gave  him  such 
sympathy  and  support.  Dr.  Hanslick,  in  one  of  his 
essays  written  after  Wagner's  death,  has  the  extraordi- 
nary audacity  to  intimate  that  there  has  never  been  any 
real  opposition  to  Wagner,  but  only  to  the  Wagneritesll 
Every  page  of  this  biography  belies  that  assertion; 
Wagner  himself,  in  one  of  his  letters,  refers  to  such  a 
statement  as  'Hhat  old  trick."  And  how  was  he  afFected 
by  the  unjust  aspersions  of  his  enemies?  In  his  post- 
humous volume  (89)  he  speaks  of  his  having  "  from  the 
beginning  met  our  music-journal  writers  with  a  con- 
tempt such  as  has  probably  never  been  exhibited  more 
strongly  in  this  world."  Yet  we  know  that  he  often 
suffered  great  mental  tortures  from  the  unjust  attacks 
on  him  and  his  art.  In  Letter  67  to  Uhlig,  he  refers  to 
a  certain  assault  on  him :  — 

«« I  do  not  read  it,  because,  though  I  should  not  intend  to  reply 
(and  I  certainly  voQl  not  any  more),  yet  what  is  written  rona  in 
my  head  for  several  days,  and  that  mi^t  be  occupied  with  some- 
thlx^  better.*' 

A  man  in  his  position  cannot  escape  being  harassed  by 
friends,  too.  One  time,  as  Wolzogen  relates,  he  received 
from  an  admirer  a  letter  suggesting  how  the  Bide  of  the 


466  WAGMMM  AMD  WAGMMM18M 


1 


VaDgrries  mi^t   hare  been  impBOfad,  die  ptopoaed 
changes  being  encloied. 


*• 


Tlie  09mpo«er  of  tbe  inferior  IFalMmirftl  and  to  irlife 
gntefal  be  felt  towards  hk  brother-in-law,  OUirier,  the 
minister  of  1870,  for  the  good  adriee,  whidi  he  so  oftan  hn^  to 
loUow  in  his  life :  '  Do  not  leplj.' 


tt 


In  a  letter  to  Liszt  (244)  he  oomplaina  bitterly  about 
the  class  of  sillj  enthusiasts  who  write  robbish  about 
him^  and  then  expect  to  be  praised.  He  Mt  keenly  the 
fact  that  most  of  the  wits  in  the  press  were  arraigned 
against  him;  and  in  a  letter  to  the  editor  of  the  Ifiui* 
kalisches  WochenbUUt  he  exclaims  that  nsnally  he  does 
not  breathe  freely  until  he  comes  across  an  article  by 
the  witty  Tappert.* 

The  very  stubbornness,  egotism,  and  self-assertion 
which  made  him  so  many  enemies  and  were  so  often 
censured,  were  among  his  most  useful  qualities  to  the 
world:  through  them  he  asserted  the  royalty  of  genius 
in  society  as  in  his  own  field  of  activity,  and  once  for  all 
established  the  fact  that  the  creator  of  a  music-drama^ 

>Tsppert,  Allgem.  deuUche  Musikztg.  (Aagnst,  1880),  quotes  an 
article  of  one  of  these  **  Waf^nerites  "  in  which  this  remarkable  sentence 
occurs:  "If  eversrthiog  that  other  musicians,  poets,  and  philosophers 
have  left  us  were  burned,  and  only  Wagner's  Nibelungen  remained,  the 
world  would  not  only  be  no  loser,  but  it  would  gain,  because  it  could 
then  at  once  and  uninterruptedly  devote  itself  to  the  study  of  the  Nihe- 
lungen.'*  This  equals  anjrthing  that  might  be  cited  from  Nietzsche's 
writings  for  or  against  Wagner.  Nietzsche,  the  weU-known  philologist, 
was  at  first  an  ardent  Wagnerite  and  wrote  obscure  stuff  of  which  Dr. 
Hanslick  truly  wrote  that  the  reader  *'  might  fancy  himself  in  a  lonatio 
asylum."  A  few  years  later  he  suddenly  changed  about  and  wrote  in 
a  similar  style  against  his  former  idol  (see  Der  Fall  Wagner,  in  which 
Bizet  is  represented  as  the  operatic  god,  and  Wagner  as  the  deyil). 
Facilis  descensus  avemit  Shortly  thereafter  the  perpetrator  of  this 
pamphlet  was  placed  where  he  belonged — in  a  lunatic  asylonu 


POETIC  PECULIABITIE8  467 

and  not  the  mere  interpreter,  is  the  more  important  per- 
sonage. His  reforms  extended  to  everything  connected 
with  the  stage,  — the  music,  the  drama  and  its  subject, 
the  singers,  the  actors,  the  orchestra,  the  scenery  and 
stage-management,  the  ballet,  the  theatre  itself,  and 
even  the  audiences  and  their  behavior.  An  influence 
like  his  has  never  been  exerted  by  one  man  in  any  art, 
and  to-day  the  Wagnerian  Maelstrom  is  engulfing  the 
whole  musical  world.  Future  generations  will  admire 
him  for  the  new  and  beautiful  art  he  created,  and  they 
will  '^  love  him  for  the  enemies  he  made  "  in  the  neces- 
sary process  of  slaughtering  prejudices  and  "assassinat- 
ing formulas."  Most  of  his  reforms  have  been  touched 
upon  repeatedly  in  the  preceding  pages;  but  several  of 
them  are  of  such  extreme  importance  that  they  must  be 
separately,  though  briefly,  considered  in  this  concluding 
chapter. 

POBTIO  PEGUIilABITIES 

In  considering  Wagner  as  a  poet,  the  first  and  most 
important  fact  that  forces  itself  on  the  attention  is  that 
he  established  for  all  time  the  truth  that  in  the  opera, 
as  much  as  in  a  simple  drama,  ''the  play's  the  thing" 
and  tiie  music  merely  a  means  for  intensifying  the  emo: 
tions.  Oluck  had  the  same  idea,  but  unfortunately  he 
could  not  find  a  poet  great  enough  to  help  him  to  its 
realization.  It  seemed  necessary  that  the  poet  and  the 
musician 'should  be  one  and  the  same  person.  Other 
composers  before  Wagner  had  taken  more  or  less  part  in 
the  shaping  and  writing  of  their  librettos  —  Rousseau, 
Lortzing,  Schumann,  Donizetti;  but  in  these  cases  it  was 
simply  a  process  of  adapting  a  novel  or  a  literary  drama 


POETIC  PECULIASITUEa  469 

nary  and  constantly  growing  popularity  of  his  operas 
demonstrates  the  truth  of  this  assertion.  Much  of  this 
success  iSy  of  course,  owing  to  the  music;  but  that  the 
best  of  music  cannot  float  an  opera  with  a  poor  libretto 
is  shown  by  the  unhappy  fate  of  Weber's  EuryarUhe  and 
Schumann's  Oenoveva,  Concerning  this  dramatic  side 
of  Wagner's  poems,  enough  has  been  said  in  the  special 
chapters  devoted  to  them  in  the  preceding  pages,  so  that 
we  can  confine  ourselves  here  to  their  other  peculiar- 
ities. 

Mozart  once  said  that  '^  poetry  in  the  opera  ought  to 
be  absolutely  the  obedient  daughter  of  music."  This 
maxim,  followed  to  its  logical  end,  gave  rise  to  the 
operatic  monstrosities  of  Kossini  and  Donizetti.  Gluck 
showed  himself  a  much  truer  artist  in  this  respect  when 
he  wrote  to  La  Harpe  that ''  the  union  between  the  air 
and  the  words  should  be  so  close  that  the  poem  should 
seem  made  for  the  music  no  less  than  the  music  for  the 
poem."  Wagner  adapted  neither  the  poem  to  the  music 
nor  the  music  to  the  poem ;  he  cast  them  both  into  the 
same  crucible,  and  they  came  out  fused  in  material  and 
form.  On  March  4,  1854,  he  wrote  to  Liszt:  ''I  could 
no  longer,  under  any  conditions,  produce  a  melody  to 
Schiller's  verses,  which  certainly  are  made  only  to  be 
read."  He  wanted  poetry  intended  from  the  beginning 
to  be  sung,  not  read;  and  as  he  could  find  it  nowhere,  — 
although  almost  three  thousand  librettos  were  offered 
him  by  contemporaries,  —  he  wrote  it  himself. 

If  we  compare  Wagner's  poems  of  the  first,  second, 
and  third  period,  we  find  some  curious  differences  and 
apparent  inconsistencies.  In  The  Fairies  and  Rienad 
the  old  operatic  models  are  followed,  and  many  of  the 


ilitticult  to  Hnd  the  re 
when  he  reflected  on  th 
done,  and  was  to  do  in 
conclusion  that  rhTme 
poetry,  is  superfluous  o 
leads  to  incorrect  accent, 
the  flood  of  musical  soi 
is  the  melodic  element  in 
al  the  end  of  lines  whii 
pared  with  the  endless  ' 
oombinations  in  an  oper. 
likely  to  be  missed,  and  « 
ation  it  becomes  inartistic 
Mliteration,  on  the  otl 
ally  of  the  operatic  poet, 
of  repeating  the  same  let 
vowels)  in  two  or  more  wi 
boring  line.     The  accent 
ble,  and  the  root  of  the  i 
choosing  harsh  or  smootl 
verses  a  definite  emotions 
hatred,  jealousy,  or  love, 
instanoes  in  the  whole  N. 


POETIC  PECULIASITIE8  471 

one  of  the  Bhine-maidenSy  but  "slides  on  the  slippery 

slime,"  one  need  not  know  German  to  understand  his 

exclamation^  — 

"  Garstig  glatter 

glitschriger  Glimmer  I 

wie  gleit*  ich  aus !  ** 

How  beautifully,  too,  the  meaningless  opening  sounds 
of  the  water-maidens:  "Weia,  waga,  woge  du  Welle," 
etc.,  go  with  their  waving  song  and  swimming  motion! 
The  Grerman  journalists  expended  an  endless  amount  of 
ridicule  on  these  lines,  as  well  as  on  the  wild  "  Hojotoho  " 
cries  of  the  Valkyries;  but  when  these  sounds  were  sung 
on  the  stage,  every  one  marvelled  at  the  delightful  effect. 
The  poet  knew  what  the  musician  needed.  Two  other 
classical  specimens  of  alliterative  mood-painting  are  the 
love-song  of  Siegmund  in  the  WcUkurej  and  Mime's 
attempt,  in  Siegfried^  to  describe  to  that  hero  the  feeling 
of  fear  produced  by  forest  phenomena:  '^Fiihltest  du 
nie,"  etc. 

Alliteration,  too,  seems  to  link  the  words  together  and 
to  aid  the  memory,  like  rhyme,  thus  proving  an  advan- 
tage to  vocalists;  and  it  also  produces  a  certain  rhythmic 
flow  and  animation.  Yet,  all  things  considered,  it  seems 
probable  that  Wagner's  main  reason  for  adopting  alliter- 
ation was  an  unconscious  craving  for  local  color.  Allit- 
eration is  part  and  parcel  of  the  old  poetry  which  was  , 
the  source  of  his  dramas;  the  rugged,  manly  character 
of  those  northern  gods  and  heroes  called  for  such  a 
rugged,  virile,  poetic  mode  of  expression.  In  the  amor- 
ous Tristan  there  was  less  call  for  such  a  method,  while  -" 
in  the  Meistersinger  the  demands  of  realism  called  for 
rhyme  such  as  was  used  at  the  time.     But  here  Wagner 


■"ot-pnzzled  them 


'•:•*-! 


POETIC  PECULIAHITIEB  478 

discovering  its  men  of  genius  and  their  merits.  W^^er 
relates  that  although  some  of  the  highest  authorities  had 
privately  spoken  to  friends  of  his  in  the  most  compli- 
mentary terms  of  the  Xibelung  poems,  they  carefully 
refrained  from  helping  him  by  expressing  these  opinions 
in  public.  The  majority  stood  aghast  at  the  idea  that  an 
"opera-composer"  should  have  the  effrontery  to  publish 
his  librettos  as  "literary"  productions.  Hence,  as  he 
adds,  "the  cheap  witticism  of  dramatic  critics  and  musi- 
cal jokers  was  the  only  notice  I  received."  It  was  indeed 
most  unfortunate  that  the  musical  "experts"  who  had 
not  even  wits  enough  to  understand  Wagner's  music, 
should  have  been  the  "authorities,"  to  whose  opinions 
newspaper  readers  bad  to  listen,  on  poetic  productionB 
which  lay  entirely  beyond  their  horizon.  So  many  of 
these  opinions  have  been  cited  in  preceding  pages  that 
only  two  more  characteristic  specimens  need  be  added 
here.  Ambros  called  the  Tristan  and  Ifibelung  texts 
"deadly  sins,"  and  Speidel  wrote  that  "he  has  no  con- 
ception of  poetry  who  finds  Wagner's  texta  beautiful,  or 
even  tolerable."  The  true  inwardness  of  all  these  criti- 
cisms may  be  revealed  by  two  illustrations,  one  of  which 
was  previously  referred  to:  Tappert's  exposure  of  the 
two  critics  who  belabored  Wagner  for  his  "  artificial " 
and  "clumsy"  alliterations  in  Parsifal,  in  which,  as  a 
matter  of  fact,  there  is  only  one  single  alliterative  line  I 
The  second  point  is  more  significant  still.  So  much  has 
been  written  about  the  unusual,  antiquated,  and  self- 
invented  words  in  Wagner's  poems,  that  those  who  have 
never  read  them  must  labor  under  the  impression  that 
they  ar«  vell-nigh  unintelligible.  But  what  are  the 
facts? 


••••n. 


XTTH  AND  MUSIC  476 

Id  these  lines,  written*  to  the  Berlin  poet  Oaillard,  in 
1844  (shortly  after  T^nnhduter  had  been  planned),  Wag- 
ner put  the  case  in  favor  of  mythical  subjects  for  the 
opera  more  compactly  than  in  his  theoretical  writings.  In) 
these  essays  ■  he  makes  an  elaborate  effort  to  prove  that  the  \ 
myth  is  the  poet's  ideal  playground.     The  gods,  he  says,   | 
are  the  very  first  inventions  of  the  human  poetic  faculty;   I 
they  are  connected  with  the  phenomena  of  natore,  with 
man's  first  and  deepest  impresaions ;  hence  the  legends 
oooneoted  with  them  have  at  all  times  inspired  the  great 
poets  to  artistic  creativeness.     These  myths  are  anony- 
mous, like  proverbs;  they  are  no  man's  property,  bnt  are 
free  for  all  poets  to  delve  in  and  find  the  old  gold  fw 
new  jewelry.    They  are  the  condensed,  concrete  poetry 
and  wisdom  of  the  people.     In  them  we  get  the  simple  1 
human  passions  and  emotions,  free  from  accidental  his- 
toric tUloy,  and  therefore  imposing  no  historic  or  local 
fetters  on  the   musician's   imagination:   mjrths  are  as 
purely  fanciful,  as  free  from  bonds  of  time  and  space,  as 
the  melodies  and  harmonies  of  the  musician. 

In  bis  theoretical  writings  Wagner  is  too  much  of  a 
German  metaphysician  to  condescend  to  concrete  illus* 
trations;  yet  he  might  have  greatly  strengthened  his 
argument  had  he  pointed  out  some  of  the  historic  facts 
supporting  it.  He  might  have  shown  how,  even  in  the 
literary  drama,  the  greatest  plays  have  purely  imaginary 
instead  of  historic  subjects.  .Xschylus  and  the  oUier 
Greek  dramatists  found  their  materi^  chiefiy  in  the  field 
of  the  old  mytiis.  Shakespeare's  greatest  plays  are,  with 
one  or  two  exceptions,  not  his  histories,  but  those  that 
have  a  freely  invented  subject  and  in  several  of  the  best 
i  SayrtuOMT  FulbUlltr,mtk).      •  K^MdiO^  IT.  U-«;Vn.  US,  ISL 


miln 


*■'■    The  thomand,  , 
Gl"t,  and  includi. 
;?'"'«•«  ba»d  „. 

«»"'iMl- of  Mozart',  i 
f7.     Aod,h.„„^, 

J»  "■»  «!."»  best  „pe„ 
.»<"»»  the  s„pen„^S" 


VOCAL  STYLE  477 

these  means  of  expression  Weber  was  greatly  aided  by  his  gift 
of  marvellously  mixing  the  tone  colors/*  etc. 

Of  this  gift  Wagner  had  received  from  the  fairies  a 
larger  share  even  than  Weber;  hence,  in  part,  his  pre- 
dilection for  mythical  scenes.  The  very  first  sound  of 
his  orchestra,  when  the  Lohengrin  prelude  begins,  trans- 
ports us  at  once  into  the  fairyland  of  myth  and  music, 
and  it  is  in  his  works  themselves  that  he  has  given  us 
the  strongest  plea  for  his  mythical  theory.  In  his 
Meistersinger,  on  the  other  hand,  he  has  revealed  to  us 
the  proper,  non-mythical  field  for  a  comic  opera. 

VOCAL  STYLE 

**  What  enchanted  us  in  Bellini  was  the  pure  melody,  the  simple 
nobility  and  beauty  of  song.  Surely  it  can  be  no  sin  to  assert  and 
believe  this.  Perhaps  it  is  not  even  sinful  to  utter  a  prayer  before 
we  go  to  sleep  that  the  German  composers  may  learn  some  day 
to  invent  such  melodies,  and  to  treat  the  voice  in  this  way.** 

*^  I  shall  never  forget  the  impression  made  on  me  not  long  ago 
by  a  Bellini  opera.  I  was  tired  of  the  eternally  allegorizing  orches- 
tra, and  delighted  to  come  once  more  across  a  simple,  noble  song.*' 

Does  it  not  seem  ludicrous  that  Eichard  Wagner  should 
have  written  those  sentences?  How  are  we  to  account 
for  such  a  phenomenon?  Very  easily:  he  was  very 
young  when  he  wrote  them  —  only  twenty-one.  It  was 
silnply  the  whining  of  a  cub  for  sweet  milk.  When  the 
bear  had  grown  up,  he  growled  in  very  different  toneft, 
as  we  all  know,  and  sweet  milk  was  no  longer  his  favorite 
food. 

To  speak  more  accurately,  Wagner's  musical  instincts 
were  all  right;  his  first  love  was  Weber,  and  his  second 
Beethoven.     But  when  he  first  came  into  contact  with 


"M,  he  „,  ■ 


VOCAL  8TTLX  479 

melody/'  their  arias.  Oenerally  there  were  three  men 
and  three  women  in  the  cast,  each  of  whom  had  to  have 
a  grand  aria,  and  a  share  in  a  duo.  There  had  to  be 
a  certain  number  of  arias,  in  certain  places,  regardless 
of  the  plot;  a  nuisance  which  in  some  places  mars  the 
score  of  even  Mozart's  operas.  This  nonsensical  custom 
Wagner  trampled  under  foot  mercilessly;  he  made  the 
drama  the  main  object  in  an  opera  in  place  of  the 
singer.  Before  him  there  were  no  operatic  poems,  but 
only  librettos;  even  so  ardent  a  champion  of  old-&sh- 
ioned  opera  as  Mr.  Sutherland  Edwards  is  forced  to 
admit  that 

**  with  the  exception  of  Wagner's  highly  poetical  and  highly  dra- 
matic works,  there  are  no  operas  written  to  be  performed  through 
out  in  music  which,  by  their  words  alone,  would  have  the  least 
chance  of  living.** 

It  was  Wagner's  mission  to  reform  the  libretto  and 
elevate  it  into  a  dramatic  poem.  Having  done  so,  he 
saw  that  the  next  thing  to  do  was  to  make  it  possible  for 
the  audience  to  follow  that  poem,  word  for  word,  and  to 
be  impressed  by  the  dramatic  plot.  This  necessitated  a 
change  in  the  function  and  method  of  the  operatic  singer; 
and  it  is  from  this  point  of  view  that  we  must  judge  all 
the  peculiarities  of  his  vocal  style,  which  has  been  more 
persistently  and  ludicrously  misrepresented  than  any- 
thing else  in  the  '' Art-work  of  the  Future." 

By  taking  away  from  the  operatic  singer  his  "  free  and 
independent  arias,"  did  he  ''put  the  pedestal  on  the 
stage,  the  statue  in  the  orchestra"?  Quite  the  reverse; 
he  did,  indeed,  greatly  enlarge  the  usefulness  and  elo- 
quence of  the  ordiestra^  but  at  the  same  time  he  elevated 


"•"...hi',;''; 


VOCAL  8TTLX  481 

will  understand  his  impatience  with  people  who  could 
find  nothing  but  trombones  and  fiddles  in  his  operati,  and 
the  meaning  of  his  remark,  in  that  instmctive  letter  to 
Stage-manager  Zigesar  (Correspondence  with  Liszt,  No. 
42),  that  "  if  at  the  performance  of  my  Lohengrin  it  was 
always  oi^y  the  music,  nay,  commonly  only  the  orchestra, 
that  attracted  attention,  you  may  feel  assured  that  the 
vocaliatt  fell  far  below  the  level  of  their  task."  In  all 
of  Wagner's  writings  there  is  not  a  more  luminous 
sentence  than  that  one,  or  one  that  more  deserves  to  be 
pondered.  What  else  was  the  object  of  the  Bayreuth 
Festival  than  a  desire  to  have  the  vocal  and  dramatic 
side  of  the  new  art  revealed  in  all  the  r&les  by  compe- 
tent singers?  What  were  all  the  novel  amtngements  in 
the  theatre  but  an  attempt  to  emphasize  the  subordina- 
tion of  the  orchestra  to  the  singer? 

So  much  for  the  prominence  of  the  W^nerian  singer, 
and  his  relation  to  the  orchestra.  But  how  about  the 
style  in  which  he  is  asked  to  sing  —  is  not  that  unvoeal? 
So  we  have  been  told  a.  thousand  times,  yet  the  assertion 
is  quite  as  ridiculous  as  it  would  be  to  say  that  Chopin's 
pianoforte  style  is  unpianistic.  On  the  contrary,  it  is 
the  Italian  style  that  is  unvoeal  in  character;  or  rather, 
one  of  the  Italian  stales,  for  there  are  at  least  two,  the 
florid  and  the  canto&tle.  Oddly  enough,  it  is  almost 
always  the  lovers  of  florid  song  who  bring  the  charge  of 
"unvoeal"  against  Wi^:ner  and  against  such  composen 
aa  Schumann,  Franz,  Liszt,  Dvor&,  Grieg;  when,  as  a 
matter  of  fact,  it  is  the  florid  style  with  its  "scales, 
arpeggios,  and  trills"  that  is  instrumental.  The  one 
great  advantage  which  the  voice  has  over  instruments  ia 
the  power  of  speaking  and  singing  at  the  same  timej  that 


tie  human  voie  (7,3 
Ij-'liefactthatofa 

"»  lorere  o(  tliiii  1 
Sill"™.  ope«tt.-pl„ 


VOCAL  8TTLS  488 

Verdi's  vocal  style  is  veiy  well  adapted  to  the  nature  of 
the  Italian  language;  so  is  Gounod's,  and  Bizet's,  to  such 
French  operas  as  Faut^  and  Carmen;  but  for  German 
poems,  and  such  rugged  and  passionately  dramatic  sub- 
jects as  Wagner  chose,  he  needed  a  vocal  style  of  his  own. 
It  is  foolish  to  fancy  that  there  is  only  one  true  vocal 
style.  National  and  individual  peculiarities  should  and 
do  prevail  here  as  in  literature,  and  evolution  comes  into 
play  too.  Liszt  calls  attention  to  the  changes  in  vocal 
style  which  have  taken  place  during  the  last  three  cen- 
turies:— 

**  Stradella  followed  methods  that  differed  from  those  of  Caiis- 
simi ;  Earinelli  no  longer  observed  the  roles  which  Durante  had 
taught  at  the  famous  conservatory  at  Naples ;  and  the  great  singers 
taught  by  Rossini  widely  departed  from  the  mode  of  singing  ad^ 
mired  in  the  eighteenth  century.  The  decisive  introduction  of  the 
declamatory  style  will  sooner  or  later  be  followed  by  the  develop- 
ment of  a  new  school ;  and  as  we  behold  the  victory  of  that  style 
in  the  works  of  Wagner,  we  take  it  for  granted  that  the  changes, 
too,  which  must  necessarily  follow  in  the  arUstio  training  of  the 
singers,  must  especially  proceed  from,  and  be  developed  in,  Ger- 
many. In  creating  for  his  fatherland  a  drama  which  is  in  harmony 
with  its  national  character,  Wagner  imposed  on  it  the  duty  of 
establishing  a  school  of  song  based  on  his  dramatic  method.*' 

Wagner's  later  vocal  style  differs  from  that  of  all 
other  composers,  and  the  most  convincing  proof  of  its 
being  the  one  best  suited  for  the  German  music-drama 
lies  in  the  &ct  that  it  is  the  result  of  the  lifetime  experi- 
ence and  development  of  the  greatest  of  dramatic  com- 
posers. Three  stages  may  be  noted  in  its  evolution.  In 
Rienzi  he  still  wrote  vocal  melodies  for  their  own  sake 
and  for  the  singer's  sake.  In  the  DtOchman,  Tannhdusety 
and  Lohengrin  he  makes  great  progress  in  the  art  of 


484  WAQNBR  AND  WAQNSSI8M 

merging  the  singer  in  the  actor:  the  vocal  part  is  no  less 
melodious  than  before,  but  it  is  no  longer  intended  as  an 
^'  independent  free  melody "  with  which  the  singer  can 
''make  an  effect,"  but  becomes  part  and  parcel  of  the 
total  musical  impression  and  dramatic  emotion,  so  that 
we  no  longer  think  of  the  singers  as  tenors  and  sopranos, 
but  as  dramatis  persaruB.  In  the  dramas  of  the  third 
period  this  principle  is  carried  out  consistently,  and  at 
the  same  time  the  vocal  parts  are  perfected  by  the  gradual 
elimination  of  aU  instrumental  features. 

The  history  of  music  shows  that  the  idiom  peculiar  to 
each  instrument  was  not  found  till  comparatively  recent 
times.  The  piano  had  to  wait  for  Chopin  to  reveal  its 
true  language.  In  the  earliest  Italian  operas  and  ora- 
torios the  players  did  their  own  orchestrating,  and  for 
a  long  time  instruments  were  used  in  an  indiscriminate 
way  until  Bach  and  Haydn  taught  them  to  speak  a 
language  peculiar  to  their  nature.  Vocal  music,  too, 
emerged  but  slowly  from  chaos.  The  polyphonic  style 
of  the  Netherlands  was  as  unvocal  as  was  the  florid  style 
of  the  Italian  opera.  Even  the  later  simple  and  tuneful 
style  of  Italian  and  German  opera  retains  much  of  the 
instrumental  spirit.  As  Wagner  truly  says  (IV.  360), 
in  speaking  of  the  Rossini-Weber  period:  — 

*  ^  A  melody,  in  order  to  be  really  popular,  had  to  be  of  sach  a 
nature  that  it  could  be  fiddled  and  blown,  and  hammered  on  the 
piano,  without  losing  any  of  its  peculiar  essence.'* 

In  other  words,  the  vocal  style  is  here  not  yet  differ- 
entiated from  the  instrumental.  Louis  Ehlert  never  had 
a  more  luminous  idea  than  when  he  wrote  that  Brahms 's 
songs  are 


VOCAL  8TTLB  485 

**  not  always  planned  for  a  human  voice  with  pianoforte  accompani- 
ment, for  frequently  the  latter  might  be  replaced  by  an  orchestra 
or  quartet,  and  the  former  by  a  'cello  or  oboe.  This  is  sometimes 
true  of  Schumann,  rarely  of  Schubert,  never  of  Franz ;  and  there- 
fore, in  this  respect  ...  I  hold  Franz  to  be  the  greatest  of  all.*' 

There  we  have  the  whole  matter  in  a  nutshell.  Franz 
has  the  most  perfect  style  of  all  Lieder  composers 
because  his  song  is  inseparable  from  the  words,  and  loses 
its  ''  essence  "  if  **  fiddled,  and  blown,  and  hammered  on 
the  piano."  And  what  Franz  has  thus  achieved  in  lyric 
song,  Wagner  has  done  for  the  music-drama.  In  his 
later  works,  the  melodic  and  word  accents  coincide  in 
every  syllable;  all  dance  rhythms  are  eliminated,  and 
the  result  is  that,  in  place  of  instrumental  tunes  under- 
laid with  words,  we  have  a  true  melodious  declamation 
or  poetic  melody  which  seems  to  grow  out  of  the  words 
themselves  —  an  emotional  intensification  of  the  melody 
naturally  inherent  in  poetic  language.  No  one  would 
ever  dream  of  playing  the  vocal  parts  of  Tristan  or  Par- 
sifal on  an  instrument;  they  would  lose  all  their  peculiar 
essence,  because  they  are  utterly  and  absolutely  unin- 
strumental  in  character. 

Years  ago  I  used  to  wonder  and  ponder  how  this 
ludicrous  charge  that  Wagner's  vocal  style  is  "instru- 
mental "  could  have  ever  come  into  the  muddled  brains 
of  academic  critics  and  teachers  of  the  "  Italian  method." 
The  solution  of  the  puzzle  is  now  obvious  to  me.  The 
source  of  all  the  tears  lies  in  the  difficult  melodic  inter- 
vals. The  composers  of  "Italian  melodies"  had  so 
spoiled  the  singers  by  writing  for  them  only  conyenient 
intervals,  that  they  and  their  friends  cried  out  against  a 
master  who  acted  on  the  principle  that  dramatic  expres- 


((,.. 


'    t/»: 


Out  w      "*»» 
nw«u t.Lii'**'  at  n 


VOCAL  6TTLE  487 

man  singers  of  that  time;  and  similarly  lie  spoke  well 
of  the  French.  Had  Bizet,  or  Grounod,  or  Verdi  come 
to  him  for  advice  regarding  the  treatment  of  the  Yoioe, 
he  would  have  told  them  to  go  ahead,  — that  their  style 
was  all  right  for  their  languages,  and  for  such  operas  as 
they  were  writing,  but  for  his  own  purposes  he  needed 
something  different.  What  he  strove  for  was  an  original 
vocal  style,  especially  suited  to  the  nature  of  the  (Ger- 
man language,  and  naturally  adapted  to  the  music-drama; 
and  in  this  vocal  style  saccharine  beauty  of  tone  and  ease 
of  execution  sometimes  have  to  be  sacrificed  to  higher 
dramatic  and  emotional  considerations.^ 

For  the  music-drama,  Wagner  believed  and  said  that 
the  Grerman  language  was  better  suited  than  the  Italian. 
Seeming  disadvantages  in  the  German  language  turn  out 
on  closer  examination  to  be  actual  advantages.  Take 
the  vowels,  for  instance.  The  Grerman  language  has  a 
greater  variety  of  vowel  sounds  than  the  Italian.  Some 
of  these,  like  6  and  ii,  are  difficult  to  sing,  but  when 
sufficiently  practised  they  become  easy,  and  they  add 
new  varieties  of  timbre  to  the  singer's  emotional  re- 
sources. The  Italian  teachers  pursue  the  opposite  ten- 
dency of  sacrificing  even  such  variety  of  vowel  sounds 
as  they  have,  to  mere  sensuous  beauty,  which  is  best 
attained  by  approximating  all  vowels  to  a  (ah).  Thus, 
characterization,  dramatic  effect,  variety  of  tonal  and 
emotional  coloring  are  all  bartered  away  for  sensuous 
beauty  of  tone.  In  the  case  of  consonants,  this  is  still 
more  noticeable.    The  Italian  language  omits  or  weakens 

• 

1  The  differences  between  "  Italimn  and  Gennmn  Vocal  Styles  "  are 
diseoBsed  in  my  C?iopin  and  other  Mtuical  Essays  in  much  more  detail 
than  I  hare  room  for  here. 


';•"'  ""»1  ooMon 
,     """eiypassiooi 

•»otioM,  .„d  ^ 

;^  to  theitl^ 
«^«»  o«  a  p„  , 


VOCAL  8TTLS  489 

To  sum  up:  we  have  now  seen  that  the  Wagnerian 
Yocalist-actor  dominates  oyer  the  orchestra^  which  is 
merely  his  pedestal;  we  have  seen  that  his  vooal  style 
is  more  truly  vocal,  more  free  from  instrumental  pecul- 
iarities than  any  other;  and  that  its  power  of  individual 
emotional  characterization  is  unique  and  unprecedented. 
We  may  go  a  step  farther  still,  and  say  that  if  any  objec- 
tion can  be  urged  against  this  new  style,  it  is  that  some- 
times it  is  too  voccU,  in  sacrificing  the  melodic  flow  to 
the  speech  and  its  accents.  But  in  such  cases,  do  we  not 
gain  in  poetic  interest  what  we  lose  in  vocal  melody? 
Is  it  not  a  sign  of  primitive  musical  taste  to  ask  in  an 
opera  for  nothing  but  naked  vocal  melody?  Does  not 
the  continuous  orchettrcU  melody  in  these  music-dramas 
atone  for  an  occasional  declamatory  passage  in  them? 
In  truth,  however,  such  declamatory  episodes  are  much 
less  frequent  than  is  commonly  assumed.  Lohengrin 
used  to  be  considered  full  of  them;  even  Franz  spoke  of 
the  intervals  in  it  that  "  go  against  the  grain "  (wider- 
haarig) ;  to-day,  even  the  Italian  bel  canto  singers  have 
mastered  these  passages,  and  in  twenty  years  more  they 
may  succeed  with  Siegfried  and  Parsifal  too. 

Unfortunately,  to  this  day  real  Wagner  singers  are 
rare,  and  the  incompetent  ones  are  responsible  for  the 
foolish  notion  that  these  vocal  parts  are  unmelodious.. 
These  singers  throw  themselves  with  all  their  might 
and  main  on  the  most  prominent,  accented  notes,  expend 
all  their  breath  on  them,  and  drop  out  or  underaccent 
the  small,  connecting  notes  and  syllables  in  the  text. 
The  result  is  that  the  text  is  not  made  clear,  while  the 
music  sounds  like  a  succession  of  wild  cries  and  exclama- 
tions, which  come  about  as  near  Wagner's  intentions  ai 


r  ^ 
AtwitK,  nagiBf  Ui  wtmlt  at  an  actor,  jct  is  hll  eoB- 


dmbaaatioa  >■  st  tin;  muc  tim«  vn?,  and 
d«';larnatifrti,''  Erery  wijrd,  erery  srllable,  was  di»- 
tinrtly  f/r'.ri'mnfiwl,  there  were  no  "showto,"  no  breaks, 
tfut  &  liKi'itifii]  {''^'7  floT  whkh  made  his  song  almost 
Ijk*;  a  ctntTAfjiU,  Imt  fnW  from  cTery  trace  of  instm- 
mtrntal  and  <ian'«   rhythms.     This   is  the  troe  art  of 

'  X.  19«-mt.  Tbi*  «Msj.  Iih«  maiij  puBgw  ia  bta  otha  writiBgi. 
■twnri  that  Ik  wu  'am  nf  th«  grcaust  ttaeben  ol  nn^iif  the  worU  baa 
e^iT  ■<;•■«.  Tb*  »r>ra*«  <it  IbrrK  who  came  ander  bis  p 
tlim  j>r<ivf4  lhi«  Mill  num  nloqiKntlj'.    A  l< 

w'xil'l  '.tu-ii  enal.l*  iLem  Ia  oTermnia  s  wwiduicIt  onsiiniosDtBMe 
diffl'iilt)'.  III;  laH  marh  alt^ntkiD  l4>  proper  brrttbiiig,  bnt  his  anul 
nM(li»l  WW  t'l  aj/prowrh  the  mattcttninilbemeDtalaide;  to tboreogtilj 
oniJ^nuiiil  a  poMa^e  wu.  In  bla  opialoD,  to  mMtet  half  ita  plijsieal 
•HfH'rilty. 

'  Wa/fiBr"*  rntlrel;  ImpenoTnal  war  of  dealing  with  ait  matten, 
Mwi  JiIh  wiiiin^^eM  to  rf^ni'ff^it  an  terror  of  JDrljrmeiit,  are  illtutr^ted  bj 
hi*  tf.;alin«iit  of  Braria.  When  S'^ria  first  tried,  at  his  rcqnest.  the 
flirt  i-l  llaK^n,  tie  was  displease'l  and  wonld  have  nothing  more  to  do 
with  liliN.  hilt  whitn  be.  Iieard  him  la  Berlin  as  Wotan  be  was  eager 
1(1  lu-  taki'ii  ui  Jiim  at  once,  to  apolo^lM  lor  his  mistake,  and  to  make 
lilio  till!  hfrro  iif  the  Parti/al  festlral. 


VOCAL  STYLE  491 

dramatdc  vocalism,  and  a  perfect  representative  of  it  is 
an  infinitely  greater  artist  than  Madame  Patti,  the  last 
representative  of  the  florid  style,  who  could  not  sing  a 
Wagner  rdle  or  a  Franz  song  to  save  her  life.^ 

With  a  few  exceptions  (among  whom  Julias  Hey 
deserves  mention)  the  vocal  teachers  have  not  yet  learned 
anything  from  Wagner,  although  Wagner-singers  are 
now  more  in  demand  than  any  others.  The  conserva- 
tories, too,  will  not  be  abreast  of  the  situation  till  about 
twenty  years  from  to-day.  Consequently,  the  great 
dramatic  singers  will  continue  to  be  self-taught,  as 
heretofore.  It  is  interesting  to  note  the  gradual  evolu- 
tion of  the  Wagnerian  singer.  The  first  Lohengrin, 
Beck,  declared  that  rdle  impossible,  and,  in  1862,  Wagner 
wrote  that  a  Lohengrin  singer  was  yet  to  be  bom.  Even 
Niemann  once  asserted  that  this  rdle  could  not  be  sung 
without  cuts;  he  objected  to  the  new  Tannh&user  rdle 
in  Paris,  and  at  one  time,  as  we  have  seen,  he  was  even 
afraid  to  sing  Kienzi  after  Tichatschek.  But  he  perse- 
vered, and  in  the  end  became  one  of  the  greatest  of 
Wagner  tenors.* 

^  Fatnre  generatioiis  will  mad  with  amiiBed  interest  that  the  aeademio 
and  critical  experts  of  Wagner's  time,  who  looked  on  tones  as  the  only 
melodies,  also  considered  tone  singers  as  the  only  vocalists.  As  late  as 
February  13, 18S2,  the  Neue  Freie  Pres$e  of  Vienna  wrote  concerning  a 
young  Wagnerian  tenor:  "  Whether  Herr  Dippel  also  understands  the 
art  of  singing,  he  oould  not  show  as  Siegfried ;  his  second  rdle,  Baonl, 
in  the  HuguenoU,  will  make  that  point  clear."  The  ridiculous  charge 
that  Wagner's  music  ruins  the  voice  is  also  still  heard  occasionally, 
but  not  so  often  as  formerly,  since  Niemann,  Vogl,  Brandt,  and 
Matema  have  shown  how  long  a  Wagner  singer  can  preserve  the 
voice.  Pauline  Lnoea  has  Justly  remarked  of  this  charge  that  it  is 
"  mere  empty  babble.  Neither  Wagner  nor  any  other  composer  spoils 
the  voice  of  any  one  who  really  knows  how  to  sing." 

*  Niemann  once  remarked  to  me :  "  No  one  can  sing  weU  what  he 
does  not  admire  intensely.    Ton  speak  of  the  profound  impresilon  the 


492  WAGNEB  AND   WAOyEBISii 

Heioricb  Vogl  is  another  euiinent  tenor  of  this  school 
who  gradually  grew  up  to  his  task.  Hana  von  Bfilow 
relates  (^Skandinaiyische  Reisebriefe) :  — 

>■  When,  in  tbe  summer  of  ISno,  I  reheatsed  TriiCttn  and  Itolde 
with  those  two  incomparable  artisM,  Herr  and  Ftau  Vogl,  I  could 
not  ftvoid  coDcedJDg  a  few  {nsl^^iScant  cuts  in  the  last  act ;  &t  the 
reaiunptioQ  of  the  opera  in  1672,  I  had  the  great  satisfaction  of 
hearing  every  note,  without  exception,  sung  by  Vogl." 

This  same  music-drama  was,  in  1862  and  1863,  re- 
hearsed in  Vienna  fifty-four  times,  and  then  pronounced 
impossible.  Thirty  years  later  it  was  sung  in  thirteen 
German  cities.  Thus  do  the  singers  and  audiences  grow. 
To-day,  a  majority  of  the  great  dramatic  singers  are 
Germans,  or  of  the  German  school;  and  for  this  chajige 
in  the  vocal  world,  Richard  Wagner  is  responsible. 

LEADING  MOTIVES. 
In  the  evolution  of  Wagner's  vocal  style,  the  guiding 
principle  was  the  desire  to  amalgamate  the  melody  with 
the  words,  and  to  make  the  plot  clear  and  the  poem  dis- 
tinct at  every  moment.  This  was  also  the  guiding  prin- 
ciple in  the  development  of  the  lyric  Lied  from  Schubert 
to  Franz  and  Liszt — a  parallel  which  gives  food  for  much 
thought.  In  his  desire  to  make  the  singer's  utterances 
intelligible,  Wagner  went  so   far  as  to  call  upon  the 

third  act  at  Triitan  made  on  you;  bat  I  can  hardly .tMlieve  that  it 
stirs  you  as  profoundly  aa  it  does  me-  Strong  man  as  1  am,  1  am  not 
ashamed  to  confess  that,  on  seTeral  occnsions  in  this  act,  my  singlag 
has  been  marred  by  sobs  and  tears  which  I  could  not  snppress.  There  is 
nothing  grander  in  ShakeHpeare,  In  ^^chylus  than  this  act.  Bat  it  is  a 
tremendous  task  to  alng  It  — ao  enarniaus  burden  on  the  memory.  I 
have  sung  Trittait  about  forty  times,  yet  this  very  morning  Seidl  and 
I  studied  the  score  together." 


LEADING  MOTIVES  498 

orchestra  for  assistance,  by  making  it,  also,  speak  a 
language  with  a  definite  meaning.  This  he  could  only 
do  by  using  Leading  Motives  —  those  reminiscent  melo- 
dies or  chords  associated  with  a  particular  person,  inci- 
dent, or  dramatic  emotion,  which  recur  in  the  music 
whenever  the  person  or  dramatic  idea  with  which  they 
are  associated  recurs  in  the  play  or  the  singer's  utter- 
ances. 

These  definite  orchestral  Motives  not  only  help  to 
elucidate  the  plot,  they  also,  by  their  subtle  suggestive- 
ness  and  emotional  definiteness  and  vividness,  help  to 
atone  to  the  spectator  for  the  loss  of  those  delicate  shades 
of  facial  expression  which  is  inevitable  in  our  large 
modem  opera-houses;  and,  thirdly,  the  system  of  Lead- 
ing Motives  has  enabled  Wagner  to  be  the  first  composer 
who  could  convert  an  opera  from  a  crude  mosaic  of 
imconnected  "numbers"  into  a  music-drama,  all  parts 
of  which  are  as  organically  connected  by  means  of  re- 
current melodies  as  the  parts  of  the  drama  itself  are 
by  the  recurrence  of  the  same  characters,  with  the  same 
thoughts,  traits,  and  motives  of  action. 

Here  was  an  innovation  in  dramatic  music  which  one 
would  think  the  "  authorities  "  must  have  surely  received 
with  acclamation  as  an  epoch-marking  stroke  of  genius. 
They  did  nothing  of  the  sort.  Here  are  a  few  of  the 
"  expert  opinions  "  on  Wagner's  Leading  Motives :  — 

**  a  method  which  is  as  clomsy  as  it  is  ridlcolous  **  (Naomami). 
**A  purely  external  aid  to  the  memory  .  .  .  superfluous  because 
the  characters  appear  on  the  stage  any  way.  .  .  .  Makes  indi- 
vidual characterization  impossible  ^^  (Reissmann).  **The  crude 
materialism  of  external  signs**  (Jahn).  **Too  superficial  and 
comfortable  **  (Lindau).    **  Such  a  naive  procedure  that  it  cannot 


494  WAOyEB  ASD  WAQSERISM 

claim  ft  KrlooB  me&niiig  bat  rather  prodaces  a  comic  eSect" 
(Rubinstein}.  "The  ttick  la  not  an  exalted  one,  and  Wagner 
works  It  without  mercy  "  (J.  Bennett).  "  A  serious  detriment  to 
operatic  maalc "  (Ilanalick).  '■  Wagner's  Leading  Motive  system 
was  conceived  by  him,  for  him,  is  executable  only  by  him,  and  will 
disappear  with  him"(Ehrlich).' 

But  the  most  heinous  offence  of  the  Leading  Motive, 
according  to  the  "experts,"  is  that  it  is  the  outcome  of 
"  Reflection."  There  is  something  very  astounding  in  the 
boundleaa  contempt  for  " Reflection"  felt  by  Wagner'8 
critics.  If  he  had  taken  the  old  unconnected  operatic 
forms,  and  filled  them  out  with  new  tunes,  he  would  have 
been  a  great  artist;  but  by  creating  a  new  art,  by  build- 
ing his  dramas  after  an  original  style  of  musical  archi- 
tecture, he  showed  that  he  was  a  charlatan,  a  victim  of 
the  detestable  vice  of  "Reflection."  What  wretched 
bunglers  were  those  "reflecting"  men  of  genius  —  Less- 
ing,  Schiller,  Goethe;  Da  Vinci,  Hogarth,  Reynolds; 
Gluck,  Weber,  Schumann !  Beethoven,  to  be  sure,  never 
reflected.  If  he  altered  his  ideas  in  his  note-books  over 
and  over  again  —  in  one  instance,  eighteen  times  —  that 
was  not  "Reflection,"  but  pure  inspiration.  There  is 
only  one  thing  more  to  be  said.  If  "  Reflection  "  is  such 
an  easy  and  cheap  thing,  why  did  not  these  experts  call 
an  academic  meeting  long  ago,  put  their  heads  together, 
and  "  reflect "  until  they  had  concocted  a  few  Wagner 
operas?  That  would  have  brought  them  not  only  fame 
but  money  —  piles  of  money.  Bnt  perhaps  they  re- 
frained because  they  did  not  wish  to  degrade  themselves 
to  the  level  of  "  reflecting  "  artists. 

1  H.  Elitliph  actnally  wrote,  in  the  Qtgemtart,  that  there  ar»  no 
Leading  Motives  in  the  Mei*teT$ingtT  I  And  this  man  sat  In  Jndgment 
on  Wagner  lor  seTeral  decades,  In  two  ol  the  leading  Berlin  papers! 


^m 


LZADiya  MOTIVES  496 

So  wonderful  a  system  of  musical  form  as  that  based 
on  the  Leading  Motives  not  only  required  a  great  deal 
of  reflection  —  inspired  reflection:  for  inspiration  is 
simply  a  spontaneous  and  irresistible  form  of  reflection 
—  before  it  could  attain  its  perfection,  but  it  required 
the  brains  of  several  men  of  genius  to  originate  it.  Just 
as  Darwinism  was  in  the  air  long  before  the  great  natu- 
ralist appeared,  so  Wagnerism,  in  almost  all  its  details,  | 
including  the  Leading  Motive,  had  been  foreshadowed 
long  before  Wagner,  and  it  remained  for  him  only  to  de-  ' 
velop  the  suggestions  furnished  by  his  predecessors,  and 
reduce  them  to  a  system.  The  French  Gr^try,  who  died 
in  the  year  of  Wagner's  birth,  and  who  suggested  the 
desirability  of  an  invisible  orchestra,  also  makes  use  of 
a  melody  aa  Leading  Motive  nine  times  in  his  AfcAard 
Caur  de  Lion  and  he  discusses  the  point  in  his  Mimoirea. 
Gluck  had  one  of  those  flashes  of  insight  which  revealed 
one  aspect  of  the  Leading  Motive.  One  day  his  atten- 
tion was  called  to  the  inconsistency  between  the  words 
of  Orestes,  "Peace  returns  into  my  soul,"  and  the  agi- 
tated orchestral  part;  whereupon  he  quickly  retorted, 
"  He  lies,  he  lies ;  he  has  killed  his  mother ! "  In  Weber, 
the  Leading  Motive  is  already  more  than  an  aperipi.  He 
employs  it  consciously,  and  with  excellent  result,  espe-  . 
cially  in  Euryanthe,  where  the  tomb-motive  recurs  with 
thrilling  eSect  four  times.  Professor  J^hns,  in  his 
Weber  biography — a  splendid  monument  of  German 
industry  —  shows  what  extensive  use  Weber  made  of 
Leading  Motives.  Already,  in  his  Abu  Saaaan,  such  a 
motive  is  used  in  a  reminiscent  way.  la  the  FreixitiUz, 
there  are  eleven  motives  recurring  in  tiiirty-fouT  places, 
and  they  are  of  two  kinds,  one  being  associated  with 


496  WAOXZB  AND  WAQNEBISM 

persons,  the  other  with  situations.  In  Euryanche  Pro- 
fessor Jiihns  found  eight  Leading  Motives,  recurring 
thirty  times.  In  Obenm  there  is  only  one,  but  of  that 
one  eitensive  use  is  made  throughout  the  opera,  to  give 
the  effect  of  Oriental  local  color  and  fairy-land. 

Yet  there  is  reason  to  think  that  Wagner  did  not  get 
the  suggeation  of  using  Leading  Motives  from  Gr^try, 
Gluck,  or  even  from  Weber.  Although  the  FretKhiitz  was 
his  operatic  first-love,  he  did  not  take  a  bint  from  its 
recurrent  melodies  when  he  wrote  hia  three  early  operas, 
—  the  Xovice  of  Palermo,  The  Fairies,  and  Rienxi.  It 
was  not  till  be  compoaed  his  Flying  Dutchman,  that  he 
began  to  enter  the  path  which  was  to  lead  to  the  real 
music-drama.  Of  this  new  departure  he  has  himself 
given  an  interesting  aecount  (IV.  392-394).'  Just  as, 
in  discarding  the  operatic  arias,  duets,  and  ao  on,  he  was 
not  guided  by  reflection  and  a  conscious  determination 
to  destroy  old  forma,  but  by  the  nature  of  his  subject, 
so,  he  continues,  it  was  not  reflection  that  led  bim  to 
adopt  the  system  of  lamifled  themes  {Leading  Motives), 
but  the  suggeations  given  to  him  by  practical  experience 
with  his  subject;  — 

"  I  remember  that,  even  before  I  actually  set  to  work  on  the 
composition  of  the  Flying  Dutchman,  I  had  sketched  Senta's 
ballad  in  the  second  act,  and  elaborated  it  poetically  and  musically  ; 
into  this  piece  1  placed  unconsciously  the  thematic  germ  of  the 
whole  mtulcal  score :  it  was  the  concentrated  ima^  of  the  whole 
drama,  as  it  stood  before  my  mind's  eye ;  and  when  I  was  ready 
to  give  the  complete  work  a  title,  I  was  not  a  little  tempted  to  call 
it  a 'dramatic  ballad.'" 

1  This  sntoblogniphic  essay  (A  Communication  to  My  FrUndt)  ia 
DOW  accessible  to  English  readeis  in  Vol.  I.  of  Mi.  Ellis's  translatioB  of 
Wagnei's  works. 


LBAHiyO  MOTIVSS  49T 

In  composing  the  opera,  lie  oontinaes,  this  condensed 
thematic  BCheme  in  his  mind  spread  itself  spontaneonsly 
as  a  connected  web  over  the  whole  opera;  all  he  had  to 
do  was  to  let  the  various  thematic  germs  contained  in 
the  ballad  develop,  each  in  its  own  direction,  and  the 
drama  was  completed.  In  adopting  this  new  method, 
he  followed  an  instinctive  impalse  inspired  b;  the 
dramatic  poem,  and  nothing  but  conscious  reflection  and 
arbitrary  opposition  to  his  artistic  instincts  could  have 
induced  him  to  resort  to  the  old  operatic  forms,  and 
invent  new  melodies  for  the  same  recurrent  sceoM. 
With  this  method,  as  Saint-SaSns  has  graphically  re- 
marked {Century  Magazine,  February,  1893),  W^pier, 
"  performed  almost  a  miracle  when  he  succeeded  during 
the  whole  of  the  first  act  of  the  Flyiitg  Dvtehmany  in 
making  us  hear  the  sound  of  the  sea  without  interrupting 
the  dramatic  action." 

In  TannhfLuter,  the  same  method  is  followed,  except 
that  here  there  is  no  central  ballad  from  which  the 
musical  motives  emanated,  but  the  recurrence  of  the 
themes  is  suggested  by  the  various  scenes  and  their 
organic  growth  and  connection.  Take,  for  instance,  the 
Venus  music.  Would  it  not  be  inartistic,  and  almost 
absurd,  when  Venus  reappears  in  the  third  acl^  to  write 
new  music  for  this  scene?  Doee  not  the  logic  of  dramatic 
music  call  for  the  same  musical  motives  that  we  had 
heard  before?  No  new  music,  however  ravishing,  could 
thrill  us  as  does  the  recurrence  of  the  strains  we  had 
heard  before  in  the  Venusberg.  Nay  more,  the  orchestra 
tells  us  what  is  going  on  in  the  mind  of  the  despairing 
Tannh&uBer  before  he  invokes  Venus  to  receive  him 
again.  The  orchestra,  in  fact,  with  its  Leading  Motive, 
enables  as  to  read  hia  very  thoi^hts. 


498  WAGNER  AND  WAONEBISM 

Similarly,  in  Lohengrin,  how  utterly  ridiculous  it  woald 
be  to  have  the  Swan  return  to  difiEerent  harmonies  from 
those  which  accompanied  him  on  his  first  appearance! 
Theae  harmonies  are  his  muskal  character,  which,  like  a 
dramatic  character,  may  undergo  various  modifications, 
but  not  a  complete  change  of  identity  such  as  a.  new 
melody  would  imply.  Reflect  on  this  sentence  a  moment, 
and  you  will  see  that  for  a  genuine  artistic  music- 
drama  the  Leading  Motive  is  a  necessity,  its  abeenoe  a 
fatal  blemish.  The  method  pursued  in  Lohengrin  marks 
a  long  step  in  advance  of  the  i>i£/cAmaii.  In  that  opera 
the  return  of  a  theme  often  has  the  character  of  merely 
a  simple  reminiscence,  such  as  other  composers  employed 
before  Wagner.  But  in  Lohengrin,  Wagner's  originality 
manifests  itself  in  the  way  he  uses  the  Leading  Motives 
as  musical  characters,  as  personified  melodies,  and  makes 
them  undergo  the  same  emotional  changes  as  the  dramatis 
■  personce  themselves. 

The  very  gradual  development  of  this  method  in  his 
operas  demonstrates  the  absolute  falseness  of  the  charge 
that  the  Leading  Motive  system  was  the  result  of 
"Reflection,"  and  was  arbitrarily  applied  in  consequence 
of  theoretical  considerations.  It  was  not  till  after 
Lohengrin  that  he  wrote  his  theoretical  essays;  then, 
indeed,  he  did  reflect  on  what  his  artistic  instinct  had 
gradually  led  him  to;  and  in  consequence  of  this  reflec- 
tion he  commenced,  with  Rheingold,  a  style  of  musical 
architecture  of  which  the  Leading  Motive  is  the  frame- 
work, extending  to  all  parts  of  the  drama,  and  giving  it 
symmetry  and  organic  connection.  Thanks  to  this 
method,  there  is  in  Tristan  such  a  unity  of  spirit  and 
form  that  every  single  bar  bettays  its  source,  just  as 


LEADING  MOTIVBS  499 

every  piece  of  a  broken  mirror  reflects  the  same  image; 
and  this  unity  between  poem  and  music  extends  even 
beyond  the  drama;  for  when,  in  Die  Meistersinger,  Hans 
Sachs  casually  alludes  to  the  story  of  Tristan  and  Isolde^ 
does  it  not  seem  absolutely  necessary  that  the  pertinent 
Leading  Motives  should  be  quoted  too?  They  are  quoted 
as  a  matter  of  course.  And  with  what  polyphonic  skill 
the  Leading  Motives  in  the  later  dramas  are  varied  and 
constantly  adapted  to  the  poetic  situation  I  Take  Parsi- 
fal^ for  example.  In  the  third  act,  when  he  appears 
with  closed  helmet,  his  motive,  too,  is  masked  in  minor 
intervals  and  mysterious  coloring;  when  he  is  anointed 
King,  it  sounds  broad  and  majestic;  in  the  second 
act,  when  he  appears  in  the  flower-garden,  after  hav- 
ing slain  the  knights,  it  has  an  agitated,  heroic  form; 
while  at  the  close  of  the  first  act,  where  he  is  igno- 
miniously  thrust  out  of  the  hall  by  Gumemanz,  with  the 
words,  ''Seek  thyself,  gander,  a  goose,"  it  assumes  a 
curiously  grotesque  form.  With  the  same  protean  art 
all  the  other  motives  are  transformed  and  differently 
colored.* 
It  is  in  the  Tetralogy^  however^  that  the  new  system 

1  Wagner  had  a  marveUons  instinct  for  the  exact  tone-color  needed 
in  each  dramatic  sitnation,  and  if  existing  instruments  did  not  provide 
them  he  invented  new  ones ;  for  instance,  the  wooden  trumpet  in  the 
form  of  an  oboe  which  was  especially  constructed  according  to  his 
directions  in  order  to  enable  the  shepherd  in  the  third  act  of  THttan  to 
mark  the  emotional  change  from  his  sad  melody  to  its  Jubilant  trans- 
formation. In  the  Tetralogy  he  introduced  several  other  new  instru- 
ments— a  bass  trumpet,  a  bass  tuba,  and  four  tenor  tubas,  with  which 
he  produces  superb  chords  of  unique  emotional  coloring.  Ordinarily, 
however,  he  needed  no  new  means  to  produce  new  effects,  for  his  origi- 
nal method  of  instrumentation  produces  an  orchestral  atmosphere  differ- 
ing entirely,  in  its  tropical  fragrance,  from  that  of  all  other  composers 
—indnding  his  imitators.  It  is  unmistakable  and  unprecedented  in  its 
MDioous  charm  and  emotional  definiteness. 


600 


WAGNES  AND  WABNSRISM 


finds  its  most  consistent  and  marvellous  application ;  for 
here  the  Motives  recur  throughout  not  only  one  drama, 
but  four  dramas.  The  tact  that  the  OiMerdiimmerung 
is  largely  built  up  of  themes  which  had  occurred  over 
I  and  over  again  in  the  three  preceding  dramas,  while  yet 
I  it  seems  as  fresh  and  original  as  any  one  of  them,  calls 
attention  to  Wagner's  unprecedented  art  of  transforming 
and  varying  the  same  themes.  It  also  calls  attention  to 
I  the  depth,  the  originality,  the  musical  and  emotional 
concentration,  and  pregnancy  of  these  Motives  which 
lend  themselves  to  such  varied  use  and  repetition.  Has 
any  one  ever  tired  of  these  Motives?  On  the  contrary, 
we  are  more  and  more  moved  and  delighted  as  we  pursue 
their  course  from  Rheingold  to  G&ttei'dammeruixg.  This 
is  owing  not  only  to  their  pregnancy,  but  to  their 
i  remarkable  realism.  How  characteristic  are  all  these 
!  themes  —  the  undulating  Rhine-maiden  melody,  the 
I  clumsy  musical  stride  of  the  giants,  the  majestic  Wal- 
i  halla  theme,  the  heroic  motive  of  Siegfried,  the  magic, 
I  veiled  sounds  of  the  Tamhelmet,  for  example.  And 
right  here  let  me  whisper  a  secret  into  your  ear.  If  you 
will  talk  with  a  minor  composer,  he  will  shake  his  head 
sceptically  over  the  Leading  Motive  system,  and  will 
,'  deny  that  it  has  a  future.  And  do  you  know  why  he 
shakes  his  head  ?  Because  the  Leading  Motive  principle, 
although  apparently  easy  enough  to  copy,  is  really  very 
perilous.  A  shallow  theme,  used  once,  after  the  old 
operatic  fashion,  may  pass  without  giving  offence,  and 
may  even  please;  but  used  as  a  Leading  Motive  dozens 
of  times,  it  would  be  simply  nauseating.  Kow  these 
minor  composers  are  rarely  able  to  create  anything  but 
shallow  themes:  hence  a  sound  instinct  leads  them  to 


LEADING  MOTirsa  601 

shake  their  heads  and  make  a  cross  whenever  the  Lead- 
ing Motive  is  mentioned. 

In  considering  an  operatic  score,  with  or  without 
Leading  Motives,  the  main  question  is,  after  all:  ^'Is  it 
good  music?  Are  the  ideas  original,  appropriate  to  the 
situation,  and  are  they  developed  in  a  musicianly  way?" 
Wagner's  musical  ideas  are  not  only  original,  and  suited 
to  the  poetic  emotion  as  no  other  music  ever  was,  they 
are  so  plastic,  so  clear  cut  in  their  emotional  definiteness, 
that  they  seem  to  have  been  performed  in  nature.  Like 
proverbs  and  folksongs,  these  Motives  will  be  handed 
down  from  generation  to  generation,  things  of  beauty, 
and  a  joy  forever.  And  as  for  the  musicianly  develop- 
ment of  tiiese  ideas,  Biilow  hit  the  nail  on  the  head  when 
he  wrote  of  Tristan  that  it  has  ''a  thematic  elaboration 
as  lucid  as  it  is  logical,  such  as  no  opera  heretofore  has 
shown." 

Given,  then,  good  musical  ideas,  artistically  elaborated, 
it  is  clear  that  anything  else  we  can  get  from  them 
besides  their  own  beauty  is  a  pure  gain,  an  addition  to 
the  intellectual  resource  and  the  emotional  fascination 
of  music.  It  is  from  this  point  of  view  that  we  realize 
the  grandeur  and  importance  of  the  Wagnerian  Leading 
Motive  which  enables  the  orchestra  not  only  to  play  good 
music,  but  music  which  suggests,  music  which  talks, 
which  tells  us  about  the  past,  the  present,  and  the  future 
almost  as  definitely  as  spoken  words.  Take,  for  instance, 
the  Flower-girl  music  in  Parsifal.  We  hear  it  first 
when  Gumemanz,  in  his  monologue,  tells  his  companions 
about  Klingsor's  garden,  and  it  arouses  our  curiosity 
regarding  the  damsels  who  are  arrayed  in  such  beautiful 
music.    In  the  second  act  we  see  these  girls,  and  aia 


602  WAaNER  AND  WAOSBBISM 


bathed  in  the  fragrance  of  this  music  in  full  blossom; 
and  when  subsequently  a  reminiscent  strain  is  introduced 
it  thrills  us  by  its  suggestive  glimpse  of  the  past  as  no 
mere  words,  and  be  they  ever  so  poetic,  could  tbrill  us. 
Indeed,  the  poet's  most  imaginative  figures  of  speech 
have  not  such  suggestive  power  as  these  reminiscent 
Motives,  which  resemble  them  in  function.  The  most 
striking  use  of  reminiscent  melodies  occurs  in  the  Oot- 
terdammeruTig  when  Siegfried  relates  the  story  of  bis  life 
to  the  hunters,  just  before  his  assassination.  Almost 
all  the  exquisite  Motives  of  the  Sie^ried  drama  here 
delight  the  hearer  once  more,  and  recall  the  pleasures  of 
an  earlier  evening.  To  give  Siegfried  and  the  orchestra 
in  this  place  a  set  of  new  melodies  would  have  been  as 
absurd,  as  inconsistent,  as  undramatic,  as  to  make  him 
tell  a  new  story.  Apply  this  principle  to  all  the  details 
of  a  score,  and  you  have  a  luminous  idea  of  the  difference 
between  an  unorganic  opera  and  an  organic  mustc-drama, 
in  which  the  perfection  of  musical  form  is  attained  by 
having  every  part  connected  with  every  other,  as  closely 
as  are  the  parts  of  the  dramatic  poem.  So  close,  indeed, 
is  this  union  of  the  poem  and  the  music  iu  W^;ner's 
music-dramas,  that  in  case  of  doubt  as  to  the  purport  of 
the  poem,  the  music  will  throw  light  on  it;  for  the  music 
is,  as  Wagner  said,  "  ever  initiated  into  the  deepest  secrets 
of  the  poetic  intention";  and  the  orchestra  sends  its 
blood  to  pulsate  in  every  vein  of  the  poem  —  to  paint  the 
very  blush  in  the  heroine's  cheek. 

It  has  been  said  that  the  Leading  Motives  are  puzzling, 
because  it  is  dif&cult  to  remember  their  names.  But  as 
a  matter  of  fact  they  have  no  names.  Wagner  never 
gave  them  any;  it  was  the  commentators  who  invented 


:4 


IN  AMERICA  508 

them.^  To  those  who  are  able  to  follow  the  Grerman  ; 
text,  the  Leading  Motives  never  appear  as  riddles,  for 
every  line  of  the  poem,  as  it  is  sung,  tells  the  meaning , 
of  the  music  that  goes  with  it,  except  in  cases  of  s;ubtle 
suggestion.  It  would  be  absurd  to  blame  Wagner  for 
the  fact  that  some  hearers  do  not  understand  German,  or 
that  some  singers  do  not  enunciate  their  words  distinctly. 
If  they  are  interpreted  properly,  there  are  no  riddles-  in 
Wagner's  music-dramas.  They  can  indeed  be  enjoyed, 
in  a  passive  sort  of  way,  without  paying  any  special 
attention  to  the  Leading  Motives,  which,  even  in  that 
case^  make  an  impression  by  their  musical  beauty^  emo- 
tional realism,  and  unconscious  association  of  ideas;  but 
he  who  would  experience  all  the  delights  these  art-works 
are  capable  of  giving  must  bring  his  active  attention  to 
bear  on  the  recurrence  and  ramification  of  the  Leading 
Motives;  then  will  he  participate  in  the  joys  which 
Wagner  must  have  felt  when,  in  the  white  heat  of 
inspiration,  he  gave  them  their  subtle  significance. 

IN  AMEBIGA 

When  Germans  become  Europamiide, —  tired  of  Eu- 
rope,—  their  first  thought  is  of  America.  Wagner  never 
saw  America,  but  he  was  several  times  so  tired  of  Europe 
that  he  was  on  the  point  of  crossing  the  ocean.     As  early 

1  When  LJBzt  described  this  new  style  of  "  musical  architecture,"  the 
name  Leitmotiv  had  not  been  invented.  Hans  von  Wolzogen  is  credited 
with  having  first  used  it.  It  is  not  a  very  happy  term,  as  it  does  not 
suggest  the  reminiscent  and  prophetic  function  of  the  Leading  Motive, 
which  is  its  very  essence ;  but  the  term  has  now  been  in  use  so  long 
that  it  is  difScult  to  discard  it.  Besides,  the  suggested  substitutes— 
typical  themes,  representative  melodies,  reminiscent  themes,  etc — are 
not  much  better. 


504  WAGNEB  AND  WAGJiESISU 

as  July  5,  1848,  he  wrote  a  letter '  to  Music-Director 
Lobmann  at  Riga  in  which  he  said:  — 

"  I,  for  my  part,  tell  you  frankly  that  if  I  were  &  poor  perfonn- 
Ing  musician  1  would  not  go  to  America  now.  for  the  aimple  reaaou 
that  I  should  have  been  there  long  ago.  What  slavery  is  the  lot 
of  us  poor  musicians  over  here  1  I  oan  see  no  grounds  for  dis- 
Boading  any  one  from  seeking  liis  fortune  there,  where  be  ia  mote 
likely  to  find  it  under  any  circiunstauceg  than  here.  U  I  cored 
to  give  Instances,  I  could  mention  a  com  that  lately  became  known 
here  of  a  fagottist  who  went  to  America  as  a  poor  man,  and  tn  a 
very  short  time  sent  for  his  wife  and  children,  as  he  had  received 
a  81500  situation.  A  whole  orchestra  would  certainly  be  still  more 
lucky  1  for  in  a  country  where  villages  are  constantly  growing  into 
cities  In  live  years,  there  can  be  no  lack  of  opportunities  for  the 
settlement  of  whole  bands  of  musioianH," 

In  September,  1849,  he  writes  to  his  friend  Heine  that 

"  If  it  comes  to  Ibe  worst  I  shall  write  to  my  patron,  yonr  WOlielm, 
in  America,  and  tell  him  to  get  me  some  kind  of  post,  as  the  last 
of  the  German  Mohicans ;  then  you  shall  pack  us  up  with  you, 
and  we  will  all  sail  together.  If  I  still  hold  on  with  all  my  roots 
to  Europe,  it  is  because  1  have  work  to  do  here,  and  with  all  my 
mind's  weapons." 

For  five  years  nothing  more  is  said  in  his  letters  about 
America;  in  January,  1854,  it  is  Liszt's  turn  to  be  told 
that 

"white  I  live  here  like  a  beggar,  I  bear  from  America  that  in 
Boston  they  are  already  giving  '  Wagner  nights.'  Some  one  im- 
plores me  to  come ;  he  says  that  interest  in  me  is  rapidly  growing 
there  -  that  I  could  make  much  money  wiCb  concert  performances, 

The  excitement  in  London  over  his  conductorship  of 
I  Ptlntad  in  the  Ifeue  Zeitichn/t/iir  MuHk,  1881,  p.  263. 


IK  AMERICA  505 

the  Philhannonic  Society  in  1855  naturally  had  its  echo 
in  America.     On  Sept.  15,  he  wrote  to  Praeger:  — 

**  Fiom  New  York  I  have  just  receiyed  an  invitation  to  go  oyer 
and  conduct  there  for  six  months ;  it  would  be  well  paid.  It  is 
fortunate,  however,  that  the  emolument  is  not,  after  all,  so  very 
large,  or  else  perhaps  I  might  myself  be  obliged  to  seriously  con- 
Bid3r  the  matter.  But  of  course  I  cannot  accept  the  invitation. 
I  hkd  enough  in  London.** 

About  this  time,  too,  Liszt  wrote  to  him  about  efforts 
that  were  being  made  by  Theodore  Hagen  and  William 
Mason  to  get  him  (Wagner)  to  come  to  Boston  to  conduct 
a  Beethoven  festival.  Wagner  replied  that  he  was  glad 
that  no  big  sums  were  offered;  the  chance  to  earn  $10,000 
in  a  short  time  would  be  a  sore  temptation,  and  he  might 
be  so  foolish  as  to  neglect  his  proper  work  once  iQore, 
and  go  on  such  an  expedition.  So  he  begs  Liszt  to  thank 
the  gentlemen  for  their  offer,  and  to  say  that  he  was 
unable  to  accept.  But  the  offer  had  been  a  more  serious 
matter  than  he  fancied.  Liszt  wrote  again  to  inquire  if 
$10,000  to  $12,000  for  six  months,  with  sufficient  guar- 
anty, would  iuduce  him  to  go  to  America.  Li  response 
to  which  Wagner  implores  him  not  to  tempt  him  any 
more.  Ten  years  earlier  he  might  have  done  such  a 
thing;  if  he  did  it  now,  his  Nibelungen  would  never  be 
completed.  Such  sums,  he  adds,  people  should  give  him 
as  a  present.  And  so  the  matter  was  dropped;  although, 
not  long  afterwards,  he  wrote  to  Fischer  that  if  his  Nihe- 
lung  prospects  did  not  soon  improve,  he  would  have  his 
scores  neatly  bound,  put  them  on  a  shelf,  and  go  to 
America  to  earn  a  small  fortune. 

Li  May,  1857,  came  the  offer  from  the  Emperor  of 
Brazil^  which  was  referred  to  in  its  proper  place  in  con- 


606 


WAGNEB  AND  WAGNERIBX 


oection  with  the  Tristan  projects;  and  in  1873,  Chicago 
came  to  the  front  with  a  promise  of  plenty  of  monej  if 
he  would  come  and  superintend  the  production  of  his  own 
operas.  Chicago  even  aspired  to  be  the  place  for  the 
Nibelung  Festival;  but  Wagner  declined,  ohiefly  beoanee 
he  was  oiraid  he  might  not  find  there  such  an  audience 
as  he  wanted.'  At  last,  in  1875,  an  American  offer  came 
which  he  was  able  to  accept,  for  it  did  not  involve  a  trip 
across  the  ocean,  but  simply  the  composing  of  a  march. 
When  the  musical  programme  of  the  impending  celebra- 
tion of  the  centenary  of  American  independence  was 
under  consideration,  Mr.  Theodore  Thomas  selected 
American  composers  for  the  choral  works,  but  suggested 
that  for  an  instrumental  piece  it  would  be  appropriate 
to  invite  the  codperation  of  the  greatest  living  master 
of  the  nation  which  has  done  most  to  develop  instru- 
mental music.  The  suggestion  was  adopted,  the  Women's 
Centennial  Organization  pledging  itself  to  raise  the  con- 
siderable sum  which  would  be  necessary  for  such  a  pur- 
pose. Mr.  Thomas  accordingly  asked  Mr.  Federlein  to 
make  a  proposal  to  Richard  Wagner,  whose  answer, 
dated  Dec.  22,  1875,  follows  in  part:  — 

"On  this  occasion,  too,  1  beg  you  to  express  mj  thsjiks  to 
Huslc-director  Thomafl  for  bis  kind  efTorts  la  America  in  behalf  of 
myself  and  my  enterprises  over  bere.  As  regards  his  latest  request 
to  np,  I  will  gay  that  it  ia  quite  possible  that  for  the  opening  of 
the  American  nalloual  featlval  so  me  thing  may  occur  to  me  —  per- 
haps in  broad  marcb-form — that  I  can  make  use  of,  although  I 
haTe  not  written  a  note  o[  mimic  (or  a  long  time,  and  have  quite 
got  uul  of  the  way  of  so-called  composing,  which  you  will  easily 
understand. 

"  Well,  if  1  send  you  the  thing,  I  shall  expect  in  return  that 

tlw  Americans  will  behave  well  toward  me,  especially  aa  regards 

1  Kiicachnar's  Wagntr  Jahrbuch,  1SS6,  p.  ISL 


IN  AMERICA  507 

the  furthennce  of  my  Festival  Plays,  which  I  have  postponed 
with  special  reference  to  them  to  the  second  half  of  August,  at  the 
cost  of  considerable  trouble  in  regard  to  the  singers  to  be  engaged. 
I  hope  soon  to  be  able  to  feel  assiued  of  the  American  visitors.*' 

On  Feb.  8, 1876,  Wagner  wrote  a  letter  to  Mr.  Thomas, 
of  which  the  following  translation  is  a  part:  — 

**  I  take  this  opportunity  to  express  to  you  my  most  cordial 
gratitude  for  your  so  successful  American  activity  in  behalf  of 
German  music,  which  has  also  benefited  my  undertaking.  .  .  . 
I  therefore  declare  myself  willing  to  compose  for  the  celebration 
of  the  Centennial  of  American  Independence  a  piece  for  grand 
orchestra,  of  the  length  and  character  of  my  Kaisermarsch,  to  be 
sent  at  the  latest  on  March  15  to  a  German  bank  to  be  named  by 
you,  against  payment  of  five  thousand  dollars  on  receipt  of  the 
manuscript  For  the  sum  here  asked  I  make  over  to  you  the  com- 
plete copyright  of  the  composition  in  question  for  America,  but 
not  for  Europe,  for  which  I  am  tied  by  a  contract  with  B.  Schott*s 
sons ;  but  promise  not  to  issue  the  German  edition  till  six  months 
after  the  American.  .  .  . 

**  In  fixing  the  amount  of  the  sum  asked,  I  am  guided  by  my 
latest  experiences,  since,  for  example,  my  Berlin  publisher  has 
heretofore  offered  me  three  thousand  thalers  for  a  similar  composi- 
tion, which,  besides,  would  not  have  been  related  to  any  national 
celebration.  Mr.  Verdi  has  received  from  his  publisher  about  half 
a  million  francs  for  the  unconditional  rights  to  the  publication  and 
performance  of  his  Requiem;  consequently  I  may  be  allowed  to 
make  my  inference  regarding  the  value  of  the  composition  of  a  now 
famous  writer.  In  regard  to  this  matter  I  am  obliged  to  give  great 
attention  to  the  proper  utilization  of  such  of  my  works  as  have  not 
yet  been  squandered,  since  I  have  not  so  far  been  able  to  save 
a  penny  of  my  income  from  them." 

The  next  letter  is  dated  Berlin,  March  18,  and  is 
addressed  to  Mr.  Federlein:  — 

**  Bfr.  Thomases  address  not  being  at  hand,  I  beg  you  to  make 
the  following  communications  to  him.  .  .  . 


\ 


508  WAONEIt  AND  WAGXEBISM 


"  I  might  have  flniahcd  my  score  two  weeks  ago  if  mj  very 
absorbing  occupatioa  in  Vienna  aad  Berlin  — to  whicb  I  was 
pledged  (or  tbia  time  —  hod  not  delayed  me,  ho  thai  I  w>a  finally 
able  to  complete  It  only  by  Iha  greatest  exertions.  ,  .  . 

'■  1  have  indicated  the  correct  tempo  by  a  note  r^arding  the 


I  of  tbem 


a  the  other  hand,  the  always  vigorous  accent- 


l  have  Uia  effect  of  impeding 


jn. 


the  flow  of  the  movement.  On  page  33  and  24  of  the  score  I  have 
indicftWd  the  great  pausea,  whose  solemnity  might  be  atigmented 
at  the  first  festival  performance  by  firing  a  salute  of  guns  and 
rifles  at  some  distance.  The  remembrance  of  this  solemn  effect 
might  perhaps  be  preserved  at  later  repetitions,  by  an  imitation 
with  big  drum-beala  and  ao-called  '  Batgchen,'  as  employed  by 
Beethoven  in  the  Battle  of  Vittoria  (in  a  side  room  —  the  sound 
coming  apparently  from  a  distance).  .  .  . 

"  Now  I  wish  yon  good  luck  I  Hy  friends  here  like  the  march 
very  much.  I  believe  it  wiU  reflect  honor  on  me  and  on  the 
Americans." 

On  March  25,  he  writes  once  more  to  Mr.  Thomas :  — 

"  I  am  dellghwd  to  have  at  last  received  a  few  lines  from  you 
personally.  ...  I  praise  you  higlily  for  the  great  trouble  you 
have  taken  to  arrange  this  matter.  May  success  now  give  you  joy. 
.  .  .  From  the  motto  which  1  hare  placed  over  the  title  you  will 
see  that  I  took  the  matter  seriously.  A  few  tender  passages  in 
my  composition  I  interpreted  to  my  friends,  by  saying  that  here 
we  must  imagine  the  beautiful  and  accomplished  women  of 
America  joining  in  the  festival  procession.  I  am  accordingly 
much  pleased  to  discover  that  1  have  thought  of  these  women  in 
advance,  since  they  finally  made  such  energetic  efforts  on  behalf 
of  my  work." 

The  full  title  of  the  Centennial  March  is  "Grand 
Festival  March,  for  the  Opening   of   the   Centennial, 


IN  AMEBICA  509 

Commemoratiye  of  the  Declaration  of  Independence  of 
the  United  States  of  America.  Composed  and  Dedicated 
to  the  Women's  Centennial  Committees  by  Bichard 
Wagner." 

The  motto  at  the  head  of  the  score  is 

«  Nor  der  yerdient  8ich  Freiheit  wie  das  Leben 
Der  tftglich  sie  erobem  mtiBs.'* 

(**  He  only  earns  the  right  to  freedom  and  to  life 
Who  daily  is  compelled  to  conquer  them.**) 

The  manuscript  consists  of  thirty-three  large  pages^ 
and  the  score  is  for  grand  orchestra,  including  even  a 
bass-trumpet,  the  procuring  of  which  caused  Mr.  Thomas 
considerable  trouble.  It  was  first  played  in  Philadel- 
phia, on  May  10,  under  Mr.  Thomas's  direction,  with  an 
orchestra  of  150  men.  It  "was  listened  to  with  the 
closest  attention,  and  a  loud  burst  of  applause  came  from 
the  multitude  when  the  march  was  over."  * 

Mr.  Dannreuther  relates  that,  after  a  performance  of 
the  Centennial  March  in  London  (1877),  Wagner  re- 
marked: "Unless  the  subject  absorbs  me  completely,  I 
cannot  produce  twenty  bars  worth  listening  to";  and 
Lesimple  says  that  when  the  telegram  frojn  America 
arrived  telling  of  the  great  success  of  the  march,  he 
remarked  with  a  smile,  "  Do  you  know  what  is  the  best 
thing  about  the  march?  .  .  .  The  money  I  got  for  it." 
It  cannot  be  denied  that  this  piece  is  the  weakest  thing 
Wagner  had  written  in  forty  years.     He  had  nothing  to 

1  Mr.  J.  R.  G.  Haasard,  in  New  York  Tribune,  May  11, 1876.  In  the 
same  paper  for  April  17  Mr.  Hassard  has  a  long  and  able  analysis  of  the 
march.  Bfr.  Hassard  was  at  that  time  the  leading  American  critic,  and 
his  name  wiU  oocnpy  a  very  prominent  place  if  the  history  of  Wagner- 
ism  in  America  is  eyer  written  in  detaiL 


■4d'.-v-  "i^. 


510 


WAONEB  AND  WAONEBISM 


inspire  liim,  to  stimulate  his  imagination.  It  bat 
suggested  that  if  he  could  have  seen  a  collection  of 
Amerit'aii  tunes,  he  might  have  found  something  to 
elaborate  in  his  own  way;  but  the  fact  is  that,  as  Mr. 
•Seidl  informs  ine,  he  did  have  a  collection  of  Americaji 
tunes,  and  found  nothing  to  suit  him.  He  was  quite 
distressed  for  some  time  because  no  theme  would  occur 
to  him;  till  one  day,  as  he  was  emerging  from  a  dark 
lane  in  Bayreuth  into  sunlight,  that  idea  of  the  triplets 
occurred  to  him.  It  is  not  a  valuable  idea,  and  it  took 
all  of  his  orchestral  skill  and  ingenuity  to  make  some- 
thing of  it.  Wliat  the  Centennial  March  lacks  ia  simply 
a  pregnant  stirring  theme.  In  orchestration  and  har- 
monization, it  is  on  a  level  with  his  best  works.  The 
richness  of  the  orchestral  colors,  the  massive  sonority, 
pompous  rhythmic  movement,  the  art  of  producing 
dynamic  contrasts  and  a  grand  climax,  are  truly  Wag- 
nerian, and  on  a  level  with  the  Kaisermarsch  and 
Huldigungsmarsch.^ 

It  was  proper  that  Mr.  Theodore  Thomaa  should  have 
conducted  Wagner's  only  contribution  to  America,  as  it 
was  he  who  chiefly  prepared  the  soil  for  the  rich  han'est 
of  Wagnerism  which  we  are  now  reaping-.  Hot  that  he 
was  the  first  Wagnerian  conductor  in  America.  His 
predecessor  as  conductor  of  the  Philharmonic  Society  of 
New  York,  Mr.  Carl  Bergmann,  also  did  valiant  work  as 
a  pioneer.  "  But,  Mr.  Bergmann, "  some  one  remonstrated 
with  him  one  day  as  he  was  making  up  a  programme, 
"the  people  don't  like  Wagner,"     " Den  dey  must  hear 

'TheCenWnnittl  March  Is  the  only  thing  Wagner  wrote  tor  Americ*; 
lor  the  autohlogiajihic  eaaay,  The  Work  and  Misiion  of  my  Life,  which 
appeared  in  the  Ifortk  American  Review,  waa  apparently  written  by  H. 
voB  Wolzogen. 


IN  A2£EBICA  511 

him  till  dey  do/'  was  his  noble  answer.^  This  same 
policy  was  pursued  by  Mr.  Thomas  for  many  years; 
rarely  did  he  give  a  concert  without  at  least  one  Wagner 
piece,  regardless  of  what  the  people  or  the  critics  said. 
What  success  he  had  may  be  inferred  from  an  interview 
in  the  Vox  Humanely  May  1,  1873,  in  which  Mr.  Thomas 
is  reported  as  saying  he  ^'  found  Wagner's  music  increas- 
ingly popular  every  season.  Could  not  make  an  accep- 
table programme  without  it.  .  .  .  Maintained  a  large 
orchestra  expressly  to  interpret  Wagner's  music." 

Within  a  year  or  two  after  the  first  Lohengrin  per- 
formance at  Weimar,  Wagner  numbers  began  to  be 
conspicuous  on  American  concert  programmes.  On  the 
operatic  stage,  Tannhduser  had  its  first  hearing  in  1859, 
Lohengrin  in  1870,  while  in  1877  a  poor  performance  of 
Die  WaJkiire  was  given  by  an  incompetent  company,  and 
with  Mr.  Neuendorf  as  conductor.  Mr.  Thomas  had 
intended  to  devote  himself  to  the  Wagner  operas  to 
crown  his  labors,  and  the  deep  instinctive  insight  into 
these  compositions  shown  by  him  would  have  augured 
success;  but  in  1884  his  plans  were  frustrated  by  the  fail- 
ure of  the  Italian  opera  at  the  new  Metropolitan  Opera 
House,  and  the  establishment  of  German  opera  with  Dr. 
Leopold  Damrosch  as  leader.  Mr.  Damrosch,  too,  had 
done  good  missionary  work  in  the  concert-hall,  and  he 
crowned  his  labors  by  a  series  of  seven  performances  of 

1 B.  O.  Mason's  Sketches  and  ImpresiUms,  which  contains  many  in- 
teresting facts  abont  early  musical  life  in  New  York.  See  also  Mr.  H. 
E.  KrehbiePs  The  Philharmonic  Society  of  New  York,  and  especially 
bis  Reviews  of  the  New  York  Musical  Seasons,  1S86-1S90,  for  much  val* 
nable  information  regarding  the  history  of  Wagnerism  in  America.  My 
own  book,  entitled  Chopin,  and  Other  Musical  Essays,  contains  a  much 
more  detailed  acconnt  of  German  Opera  in  New  York  than  there  is 
loom  for  here.    See  also  Bitter's  Music  in  America, 


51*2 


WAGySR  AND   WAGNERISM 


the  Walk&re  which  were  an  immense  improvement  on 

those  previously  given,  Neverthelesa,  Die  Walhiire  has 
iipver  been  so  popular  in  New  York  as  Siegfried  and 
Ootterdlimmerung,  and  1  regard  this  as  evidence  of  the 
superior  taste  of  New  York  audiences. 

Dr.  Damrosch  sacrificed  his  life  to  German  opera. 
A  cold  caught  at  a  rehearsal  developed  into  fatal 
pneumonia.  After  his  death,  Anton  Seidl  was  asked  to 
take  his  place.  A  wiser  choice,  or  one  more  fortunate 
for  America,  could  not  have  been  made;  for,  with  the 
possible  exception  of  Hans  Richter,  no  other  conductor 
has  ever  entered  so  deeply  into  the  dramatic  spirit  oi 
"Winner's  music.  As  Hans  Richter,  by  his  London 
concerts,  revealed  the  inner  secrets  of  Wagner's  art  to 
Londoners,  so  Anton  Seidl  took  the  very  atmosphere  of 
Bayreuth  to  New  York.  These  two  men  were  Wagner's 
principal  pupils,  and  the  similarity  in  their  conception 
is  not  an  accident,  but  establishes  the  real  tradition  as 
regards  modification  of  tempo,  and  other  matters,  which 
ought  to  be  fixed  for  all  time  by  phonograph,  before  it 
is  too  late.  Mr.  Seidl  studied  with  Mr.  Richter,  and  it 
was  through  his  teacher's  recommendation  that  Wagner 
accepted  him  as  his  musical  secretary  in  1872.  Four 
years  later,  Mr.  Seidl  assisted  in  rehearsing  the  Nibelung 
roles  with  the  solo  singers  and  the  chorus  of  men  in  Die 
Ootterdiimmeruiig.  He  also  had  charge  of  the  musical 
side  of  the  stage  management,  superintending,  for  ex- 
ample, the  movements  of  the  swimming  Rhine-maidens 
ill  exact  harmony  with  the  score  —  a  task  requiring  a 
thorough  musician.  In  the  following  year  he  was  sent 
to  London  to  arrange  the  preliminary  rehearsals  tor  the 
Albert  Hall  concerts.     The  first  Nibelung  performances 


1 


a  AMERICA  Hi 

in  Leipzig  owed  their  success  rery  largdj  to  Mr.  SeaL"* 
cooperation,  and  he,  of  coarse,  was  ebosen  to  fxadnax, 
the  133  performances  of  yenmann's  traT^Hin^  yfbeio^ 
Theatre.  After  the  Berlin  yibelung  FeatrraL  Wa^aer 
alluded  in  a  speech  to  "the  young  artist  wir^cL  I  Lan* 
brought  up,  and  who  now  accomplishes  asv.izruiin^ 
things.'*  The  chief  reason  why  Hfilsen  lad  r*f:Li*id  ibt 
Tetralogy  at  the  Royal  Opera  was  that  Wa&«:T  rssir 
bomly  insisted  that  Mr.  Seidl  should  be  «(»daetr>r.  Is 
was  his  intention,  too,  that  Mr.  Seidl  shcold  fx&tatt 
the  first  Parsifal  Festival,  bat  when  King  Lodwig  rAknA 
his  Munich  orchestra,  its  conductor,  of  tc^nrnt^  west 
with  it,  and  Hermann  Leri  nnquesticnably  jmrtd  aa 
excellent  interpreter. 

That  Anton  Seidl  should  have  bsjen  ^bos««i  as  tbe 
conductor  of  the  German  opera  in  X^rr  Yc«k  wu.  I 
repeat,  extremely  fortunate;  fes:dft«  Li?  \iffw'j^^,  of 
the  correct  traditions,  he  hhfjw^  an  *rLVi.'L*L*4iL  f'^T  Lis 
task  which  proved  contagious  to  p!ij»^rt,  t:L^r%,  *A/i 
audiences.^     ^lany  famous  Wagn^*  singert  w*??*  i«tri 
at  the  seven  seasons  of  German  op^ra,  f ffrtii  1/584-lWl 
—  Mesdames  ^latema,  Lilli  Lehmann,  .ScLro^sd^fr-Hanf- 
stfingl,  Kraus,  Mielke,  Bitter-Goetze,  Braiidt,  I>?tta^f>:, 
Moran-Olden;  Messrs.  Niemann,  Gu/lehus,  Vogl,  Jy:J»tt, 
Alvary,  Beichmann,  Fischer,  Staudigl,  eV:;.    ThafikJi  V> 
such  singers  and  such  a  conductor,  thfrre  wer*;  t^anb^/UM 
when  the  Metropolitan  Opera  House,  with  its  vnAUuiuA 
wealth,  provided  the  best  German  opera  in  tl^  world  -* 
best  in  everything  but  the  scenic  dejiartm^it,  wbi^;b 
usually  shabby  and  inadequate. 


1  Under  his  direction,  IHe  Meitter$in/jer  hs4  tu  Urat  y^trfiiirMHM*  hk 
America  on  Jan.  4, 1S86;  TrUtan,  on  D«c.  1,  UMfr;  Aki/rU4,  %^/f,  1$^ 
1S87 :  OatterUmmerung,  Jan.  26,  IBW ;  BhtingUi,  ias.  4,  IMflk 


J 


514  WAOySB   AND   WAONSRISM 

For  "  German  Opera,"  we  might  aa  well  read  "Wagner" 
Oi^ra,"  for  the  result  of  the  Metropolitan  performances 
waa  a  constantly  growing  preponderance  of  Wagner  over 
all  other  composers.  Mr.  Krehbiel  took  the  trouble  to 
collate  Director  Stanton's  official  figures  for  the  last  five 
years  of  German  opera,  and  found  that "  Wagner'a  dramas 
yielded  $590,021.70  as  against  5410,332.76  brought  in 
by  the  entire  non-Wagnerian  list,  a  difference  in  favor  of 
Wagner  of  *179,688.96."  Or,  if  we  take  the  number  of 
performances,  we  find  that  Wagner  had  128,  and  all 
other  composers  combined  —  Germaji,  French,  and  Ital- 
ian—149!  The  New  York  public,  in  fact,  seemed  to 
want  Wagner,  the  whole  of  Wagner,  and  nothing  but 
Wagner;  like  the  Bavarian  who  had  three  wishes,  and 
for  the  first  chose  a  thousand  barrels  of  beer,  for  the 
second  all  the  beer  in  the  world,  and  for  the  third  — 
after  a  long  pause  —  another  barrel  of  beer. 

The  stockholders  of  the  Metropolitan,  most  of  whom 
had  more  wealth  than  musical  culture,  became  disgusted 
at  this  state  of  affairs,  and  concluded  to  abolish  G«rman 
opera  altogether,  as  the  only  way  of  getting  rid  of 
Wagner.  Driven  from  the  opera-house,  this  music  once 
more  took  refuge  in  the  concert-hall,  and  to-day,  not  only 
does  Wagner  have  more  performances  at  American  con- 
certs than  any  other  composer,  but  a  programme  entirely 
devoted  to  him  draws  a  larger  audience  than  any  possible 
combination  of  other  composers.  In  London,  where 
Mr.  Eowbotham  wrote  an  article,  in  1888,  on  "The 
Wagner  Bubble  Burst,"  the  six  intended  performances 
of  German  opera  in  1892  had  to  be  increased  to  twenty 
—  almost  all  Wagner;  and  there,  too,  the  Wagner  con- 
certs are  patronized  the  best.     In  Paris,  Lohengrin  had 


IN  AMERICA 


616 


sixty-one  performances  in  its  first  year.     As  for  Gerruau 
countries^  the  Austrian  Archphilistiiie  wrote,  a  decade 
ago,  that  the  Wagner  movement  had  evidently  reaished 
its  climax,  if  not  got  beyond  it.     At  tliat  date  Wagner 
had  about  five  hundred  performances  a  year;  to-day  the 
number  is  doubled;  and  it  is  safe  to  predi(;t  that  it  will 
double  again  within  the  next  ten  years,  if  the  supply 
of  dramatic  singers  and  conductors  equals  tlie  demand. 
The  Bayreuth  Festivals,  too,  have  constantly  grown  in 
popularity,  more  than  a  hundred  performances  having 
been  given  there  since  the  Nibelung  Festival  of  1M70. 
ParHfcd  was  given  in  1882,  1883,  1884,  18M5,  1888,  1889, 
1891,  1892;  Trittan,  in  1880,  1888,  1889, 1891, 1892;  I)U 
MeisterHnger,  in  1889,  1891.     Wagner's  widow  ba«  xmh 
ously  striven  to  carry  out  his  intentions;  but  even  if 
these    Festivals   should   cease    before   the  end   of   tlie 
century,  they  will   liave   done   their  worlc.      Wagner's 
dramas  are  now  the  heritage  of  tlie  whole  world,  and 
althougli  the  Music  of  the  Future  lias  become  the  music 
of  the  present,  it  will  continue  to  be  the  Music  of  the 
Future. 


i 


> 

t 


INDEX 


Action  and  mnsic,  1. 179. 

Alliteration,  n.  470. 

Alvary,  M.,  II.  377. 

America:    W.    concerts,   IL   107, 

001 ;  plans  for  going  to,  003-006 ; 

Centennial  March,  006-010 ;  first 

operatic  performances.  Oil,  013; 

popularity  of  W.,  014. 
Animals:   love  of,  II.  197-204;  in 

W.'s  operas,  198,  422. 
Applause,  ill-timed,  II.  303,  430. 
Aria,  I.  300. 

Arnold,  Matthew,  I.  133. 
Auber,  I.  311,  11.  94. 
Autobiojinraphic  writings,  I.  7,  306, 

n.  2,  407. 
Avenarius,  F.,  I.  20-22,  II.  197. 


Bach,  I.  106,  314. 

Ballet:  in  Ricnzi,  I.  HO;  attack 
on,  2.33;  Tannhauser,  II.  73,  70; 
eliminated,  1,  107. 

Baudelaire,  II.  80,  87. 

Bayreuth:  first  festival  plan,  I. 
351 ;  festival  receipts,  1891  and 
1892, 1.  209 ;  why  chosen  in  place 
of  a  large  city.  209,  262;  esti- 
mated  cost  of  festival,  260;  not 
a  commercial  enterprise,  263; 
W.'s  first  visit,  263;  Ninth  Sym- 
phony at,  260-268;  present  of  a 
site,  scenery,   266;    laying    the 


comer-stone,  269 ;  is  it  national  7 
270 ;  straggles  to  raise  funds,  270- 
272;  comprehensive  plan,  272; 
decried  as  a  humbug,  274-276; 
danger  of  collapse,  number  of 
patrons,  276;  Villa  Wahnfried, 
277 ;  description  of,  278 ;  road  to 
the  Nibelung  Theatre,  281;  de- 
scription of  theatre,  282;  invisi- 
ble orchestra,  283-287;  Nibelung 
rehearsals,  289,  29^-290;  King 
Ludwig  and  Kaiser  Wilhelm, 
297-299 ;  accommodations  for 
tourists,  300;  scenes  at  Anger- 
mann's,  300;  before  the  per- 
formance, 301 ;  scenery  and 
critics,  304,  300 ;  the  singers,  303, 
300,  306;  W.'s  "scandalous 
speech,"  307-310;  festivals,  from 
1876-1892,  374;  financial  result 
of  first  Festival,  376;  plan  for 
dramatic  high-school,  383;  for 
future  festivals,  384;  arrange- 
ment with  Munich,  389-391; 
changes  in  1882,  403;  Munich 
and  Nurember}^  as  suburbs,  404; 
secret  of  success,  434;  applause 
forbidden,  430;  financial  success 
of  Parsifal,  437;  burial  of  W., 
402;  festival  years  and  list  of 
dramas,  010. 

Bayreuther  Blatter,  11.  380. 

Beethoven:  worship  of,  I.  31-34, 
100,  316;  pilgrimage  to,  82;  on 
FreUchutz,  141;  Ninth  Sym- 
phony in  Dresden,  101 ;  on  sloven- 

617 


1;  pertormanecia,  i3t ;  IniilitloTM.  '  Carteret,  J.  C.  II,  460. 

426;  In  Londnii,  410;  criticisms  '  CenteonUI  March,  II.  506-610. 


BeUlDi,  L  M),  114,  310,  341,  II.  4n.  {  Chorlef,  H,  F.,  I.  191. 


1 


4H. 


68,  430, 


BerKmann,  C,  II.  010. 

Berlin:  Bienzl.l.lii;  TannhSvier 
rejscted,  201;  DuKAman.  214; 
Lohtngrin,  3T4;  tbe  "Circtls 
HalsuD."  3T4~381,  II.  3H6-396. 

Berlioi:  on  a  novelette,  L  84;  on 
llutchman.  13H;  auiated  by  W., 
14(i;  on  W.  as  conductor,  146; 
opeu-air  composing,  405;  on 
poor  perfonnancefl,  421;  coodact 
U]«(irdsW..U.S8-«4;  W.'s  apin- 


,  1.3 


5,218, 


;or,  H 
Beiisl,  Count 
Bisiaarck.  II.  211. 
BoloKna,  II.  258. 
Bonlogne,  I.  86. 


Brandt,  Mariamie,  II.  416. 
BreiCkopt  and  Hartel,  I.  373,  tl.  37, 

41.  i2,  48,  e(  paitim. 
Brendel,  I.  332,  339. 

Brussels,  IL  lid. 

Bjilaw,  Hans  Ton:  on  Fanst  over- 
ture, I.  416;  on  form,  41B;  Lo- 
henarin,  418;  W.'s  pupil,  440;  In 
Muulch,  II.  125;  W.  on,  m  coa- 
ductor.  I3B;  armnKements,  133; 
on  Trlttan,  14T;  W.  and  politics, 
1T7, 1T8;  leaves  family  with  W., 
183;  conducts  Meuteriinger,  213; 
and  bis  wife,  34B :  contributes  to 
Bajreuth  fund,  401. 

Borllogame,  E.  L.,  I.  84. 


Cboios:  in  Weber, 
grin,  266;  In  Wagner's  open*, 
n.  231 ;  objections  to  bis  theory, 
234;  in  Walkilre,  339,  340;  In 
Partial.  427. 

Comio  opera,  see  Mei»teriingrr. 

Composing;  Lohoigrin,  I.  2S3; 
Rheingold,  410-412;  method  ol, 
II.  33-34;  pleasure  of.  33;  poem 
reveals  signilicsjice,  38. 

Concerts;  in  Dresden.  I.  151;  at 
Ziiriob,435^39 ;  In  Loudon  (1855), 
443^160;  why  W.  gave,  U.  103; 
of  W.'s  music  in  America,  107; 
in  London  (ISH),  378-382. 

Conducting:  Essay  On,  I.  427;  IL 
248. 

Condoclor:  W.  as,  la  Ureadeo,  1. 
lit-lfH;  drillmikatcr,  421-424; 
principles  at  Inlerpretation.  424- 
433; "" 


of    Wet 


'    425;     testi- 


intellectUBl  Interest,  438;  modi- 
Bcation  of  tempo,  429;  expert 
testimony.  432-136;  in  Zurich, 
4.'Sn-443;  Loudon,  443-4W;  with- 
out score,  451 ;  Ninth  Symphony, 
n.  2G7;  Insists  on  piano,  285; 
Rlrhter  anecdote,  280;  directions 
to  Bayrenth  orchestra  and  sing- 
ers, 394:  "  parentbotlc  "  motives, 
295. 

Criticism:  function  of,  I.  133;  lags 
behind,  138,  288. 

Critics;  Preface,  I.  3;  on  Weber, 
13;  on  Rifmi  and  Dulchman, 
132-138;  on  Weber,  142;  on 
rannAauser,  187;  should  be 
abolislied,  306;  on  Lohfngrin, 
277;  ou  W.'s  "contempt"  for 
the  Euaaters,  308;   why  opposed 


UfDXX 


519 


W.,  333;  neglect  dnty,  369;  on 
LIsxt's  generoeity  to  W.,  383, 392 ; 
In  Lcmdon,  1805, 445-460;  malice, 
455;  on  W.'s  ooncert-giying,  n. 
106;  retard  his  raocees,  105; 
charge  of  formlefleneee,  148;  on 
diaoorde,  150;  on  abeenoe  of 
melody,  165-161;  on  TrUtan, 
170-173;  Uee  abont  Minna,  176; 
openMX>mpoeing,  227;  on  MeU- 
terginger,  236-238,  240;  inde- 
cency of,  261 ;  on  KaUermarBch, 
264;  and  politicians,  273 ;  on  Bay- 
renth  project,  273-276;  charge 
of  lonacy,  274;  try  to  fmstrate 
festival,  276;  on  *' scandalous 
speech"  in  Vienna,  291;  pet 
names  for  W.,  296;  on  Bayreuth 
scenery,  304 ;  on  moral  aspect  of 
WalkUre,  333;  on  Dragon  in 
BUgfiried^  352;  vertuM  men  of 
genius,  367;  on  the  Nibelung's 
Bing,  367-375;  weak-minded, 
372;  seek  to  discredit  festival, 
402;  on Pars</a/, 429-433;  bonnd 
to  find  fault  in  any  case,  436; 
and  W.'s  poetry,  472;  on  vocal 
style,  479,  481,  486,  491;  on 
Leading  Motives,  493;  on  Reflec- 
tion, 494. 


Damrosch,  L.,  n.  511. 
Dannreuther,  I.  06,  77,  200,  379, 

461,609. 
Davison,  1. 445. 
Debts,  I.  51,  60,  72,  87,  203,  213, 

382-390,   n.  Ill,  119,  120,  877, 

378. 
Diary,  in  Paris,  1. 71. 
Dietsch,  L  76, 137,  H.  77. 
Discords,  II.  150. 
DonixetU,  I.  79,  310. 
Dom,  H.,  I.  27,  31,  51,  57, 63, 438, 

n.  31, 163, 170. 
Draeseke,  F.,  1. 268. 


Dresden:  Weber  and  German 
opera,  I.  13;  Riemi  accepted, 
91;  performed,  99;  Dutchman, 
115;  TannMhuer,  ISl;  insurrec- 
tion, 206;  Meisternnger,  U,  239. 

Dvorak,  n.  240. 


Ehlert,  I.  434,  H.  171,  236,  371, 373, 

^21  484. 
Ehrlich,  I.  482,  494. 
Eliot,  George,  n.  381. 
EUis,  W.  A.,  I.  127, 181,  218,  IL  496. 
Elson,  L.  C,  I.  41,  271. 
Engel,  G.,  II.  273,  369. 
Essays:  in  Paris,  I.  80-82. 


Fairies,  The,  L  37. 

Faust  overture,  1.68,  69, 412^19. 

F^tis,  1. 133, 192. 282,  306,  IL  66. 

Feuerbach,  1. 290. 

Feustel,  F.,  462. 

FiUppi,  F.,  1. 175,  281, 446. 

Fillmore.  J.  C,  U.  153. 

Fischer,  W.,  I.  96. 

Flying  Dutchman :  impressions  on 
a  sea-voyage,  L  65;  Heine,  76; 
sells  libretto,  76 ;  composition  of, 
89-91;  refused  in  Germany,  91; 
score  in  Berlin,  104;  first  per- 
formance, 116-118;  at  Ziirich, 
117;  neglected  ten  years,  118; 
performances  in  1889-1891,  118; 
story  of,  119-125;  comments,  125- 
130;  W.*s  opinion  of,  131;  crit- 
ics on,  135-137;  Berlioi,  Liszt, 
Spohr,  140;  intended  as  one-act 
opera,  IL  322;  number  of  bars, 
429;  Leading  Motives,  496. 

Form:  Bttlowon  W.'s, 418;  in  Odt- 
terdSmmsrung,  419;  symphonic 
poem,  II.  18;  in  TVisCon,  148. 

Fimns,  R..  I.  259-263,  n.  486. 


Freitcb:   opera,    I.  311,  313,  441; 

civUiMiion  in  Qermnnj,  n.  363 ; 
Booree  ol  hostility  to  W.,  2M, 
Frledrlcb  August  II..  I.  93. 


Gsde.  I.  IM, 
Qa^rin).  11.  63,  fig.  78. 
Oaslrouomic  babita,  1.  402-404. 
GanUer,  Th.,  U.  H7, 
Oauder,  J.,  11.  IW,  2DQ,  2TT. 
GlenlM:  in  W.'a  favor,  1.  3;  plew- 

ore  of  creating,  S6;  lack  of  l>ct, 

247. 
German  opera:  DreitdeD,  I.  13-15; 


3,  »)4,  3 


,  11.2 


3. 17,  3 


Glnck;  what  W.  did  for,  I.  lOT; 
refortna,  303;  W.'a  opinion  of, 
314;  "  trnditloDB,"  436;  germ  of 
Lending  Motive,  II.  4'6. 

Goethe^  and  the  Bagltsbman.  D. 
3TT;  on  Invisihle  players,  2h:<; 
treatmeot  of.  by  contemporaries, 
310. 

OSlUrdStiimfrung :  Srstformof,!. 
348-»>3 ;  choras  in,  U.  ■2S5;  com- 
poflltlon  of,  258 ;  story  of,  ;U5- 
361:  «<mmenUon,;)61-t6T;  W.> 
greatest  act,  36S ;  early  orlj^iu  of 
themes,  306  (see  also  Siegfried's 
Dralh). 

Gounod,  11.  ZB3. 

Grftry,  II.  283,  496. 

GHSK.  II'  210,  307. 

Urove,  Sir  G.,  I.  330. 

Uumprechl,  1.237,279. 


Halieneck,  I.  fi8. 
Hale,  P.,  I.  I'll. 
Uanslick,  E.:  W.'a  pictorial  h 


I.  IB;  phillRlne,  133;  cm  DuteK- 
man,  136;  (in  W.'i  Gluck,  160; 
on  Lohtngrin.  380;  W.  on,  333; 
OQ  W.  and  Meyerbeer,  33B.  S40; 
W.'a  letteie  to  Lisxt.  303;  V.  u 
coiidDctar,433;onW.'sapinlonar 
Ufzt'B  moslc.  IL  IT :  IVuIon  Itn- 
poraible,  103;  HaDalickiain.  ISl ; 
love-potion  in  Trulan,  164,  16!>; 
Tnitan  iTiticisms.  170;  on  W. 
liart  correspond  eoce,  189;  on 
Ueitterilntier,  33T;  Rhtingald 
prophesy,  244  ;  Leading  Motives, 
349 ;  Dragon  in  Skgfried.  3S2 ;  on 
OSt  lerdd  mmenmg,  387 ;  Ifibetung 
criUcisms,  370;  "depreMing  to 
WagnerilBB."  374;  on  PuTti/al, 
431-433;  on  NietXSclie,  466;  on 
Leading  Moti*ea,  4M. 

Happy  Bear  Family,  I.  87. 

Harmony  and  Discord,  U.  150-164. 

Hiirtel,  see  Breitkopt. 

Hassard,  J.R.  G.,  II.  B09. 

Hnnptmann,  M.,  I.  188,  202,  279, 
42;(. 

Hnweia,  H.  R.,  II.  414. 

Heckel,  E.p  II.  ^61,  271. 

Heine,  F.,  I.  OS. 

Uoino,  U.,  I.  32,  63,  6S  ; 


'.,  TS, 


Henderson,  W.  J.,  IL  368. 

Herbeck,  J.,  II.  106. 

Herder,  I.  3. 

Herhomcr,  H.,  H.  381. 

Herwegb,  I.  .'ViS. 

Hoke  Brnvl,  I.  64,  lOa 

UoDoraria:  tor  songs,  I.  Tl ;  for 
Blenii,  103;  essays.  298,  388; 
TannhSvuT  in  Vienna,  383 ;  tan- 
tiimet  in  1893,  :t86;  from  operas, 
383-.190;  for  Paris  Tannha»*er, 
II.  83;  operas,  103;  tor  Ifibe- 
lun'i't  Ring  and  Fartifal,  439. 

Hnliert.  P.  G.,  I,  304. 

Htieffer,  F.,  I.  »3, 136,  434, 444,  499, 
U.  3,  334,  380. 


BfllMa,  Botho  Ton,  L  370-382,  IL 

jM,  aeQ,  SM-ase. 

ButdtgtMg»marieh,  IL  IM,  300. 
HDllali,  J.,  L  191. 
Hnnmi,  vlt,  playftUnsM,  L  31,  S7, 
a,  4S0,  U.  ISr,  XMOO,  23t-328, 

H7gI«iia,I.3ea-iOL 


brtmnwiitaUoD,  sm  OrclMrtration. 
lUlUn  open,  I.  48-SO,  80,  300,  901, 
810.  n.  160,  481-183. 

ltt^,L  an,  n.  2(18,303. 


jKkMB,  J.  P.,  n.  3T8. 

Itba,  O.,  I.  ISO,  384. 

Jbui  P«tl,  1. 1. 

jBtwm,  A.,  IL  18T,  338. 

/uiu  of  NazarsOt,  I.  303,  317,  H. 

413. 
Jbwb,  im  JodAim. 
JoBchlm,  I.  23T. 
JixUlam  In  Mute,  L  922-34T,  U. 


Eaiiermartth,  H.  134, 3ST,  364, 360. 

KaltMck,  M.,  II.  430. 

KutDer,  I.  343,  n.  4S8. 

Kcpplet,  F.,IL«47. 

KUndwoitb,  U.  4. 

KobM,  G.,  II.  149, 334,  367. 

Kontfcsberg,  I.  Bl. 

KrebUel,  H.  E.,  n.  149,  Sll,  014. 

Knitusth,  U.  289. 


EX  521 

J»mA\ng  HotlTW:  IVmnUuMT,  I. 
181;  Lo>ungrin,  368;  In  pUoe  o( 
GrMk  dtorat,  II.  334;  in  Shet)^ 
gold.  S34 ;  mbtle  um  ot.  In  Statb 
yHe(l,S4e;  \a  OottvriammTung, 
36S;  \aPartifai,tSl;  InpneMl, 
493-002;  principle  of  oignnle 
form,  493;  hinory  of,  4BB,  tfO; 
rsmlnlacaDt  uid  piopbetio,  SOI; 
the  nuna,  003. 

Leipzig:  W.'H  bona*,  L  10;  oon- 
wiTKtoiy,  306;  Lohengrin,  3T4, 


l4dmpl«,  n.  87B. 


Letten:  oketcbei  of,  I.  SB;  tnn*- 
lBt]oii«ot,93;  toHeekel,  II.3B1; 
ingBDenl,  41B. 

Lenld.-I.  SB,  TO. 

Ubrettoi  oSeied,  I.  S7. 

lieboBTerbot,  1. 43. 

lindan,  Paul,  n.  387,  283,  303,  309, 
334,  33T,  SB3,  SH,  873,  434,  4S1, 
493. 

UmA:  od  Ihitehman,  127,  US,  139; 
on  TannMuMr,  193,  220;  at 
Weimar,  230;  aulKs  W.,  231; 
fint  meeting,  313;  gives  aidvlce, 
330 ;  on  LohengHn,  236,  238,  239, 
248,  206-209,  2TB;  em.;  on,  2DB, 
208;  woTkiforW.,2T3;  ooScbD- 

'  bert,  320;  on  W.'r  wretchedneu, 
368;  MiricM  refoMd,  369 ;  eCFoTta 
for  TannhSusKT  in  Berlin,  3T&- 
382;  genenwlty,  390;  Income, 
why  gBTs  np  playing,  eztrara- 
ganee,  391;  affection  tor  W., 
393;  style  ot  oorrecpondenoe, 
393;  advice  toTr„394;  on  Wal- 
kOre,  n.  7;  three  vtolU  to  W., 
8-10;  affection  tor  W.,  9,  10; 
W.'b  gratltnde  and  love,  ID,  11; 
lait  will,  11 ;  linglng  Bhtingold 
and  WalkUrt,  13;  tnmi  to  ot- 
ehaatra,  14  ;  W.'b  opinion  of 
Llwt't  mnalo,  IS;  bu  vMndM. 


16;  belplcH  at  Weimat,  H;  on 

jyuian,  S6;  Tisits  TriebacheD, 
188;  end  ol  the  oorrespondence, 
188;  wants  to  marry,  180;  plays 
Ueiilfrtinger  at  aight,  190 ; 
"  Double-Pepa,"  201  ;  at  Bay- 
reath,  200;  on  Nihrlung't  Sing, 
36T;  TTiemaurainggoiuIola.iii; 
DD  Tocal  gl?les,  483. 

Ularary  worka :  antoblographlc 
aketcb.  I.  7;  lirat  essay,  W;  P»- 
Haian  correspondeDce,  SO ;  gtorlea 
ftnd  rasays,  81-87 ;  Art  and  Revo- 
Intion,  291;  Art-work  ol  FHture, 
293;  Opera  nod  Drama,  297;  Com- 
tnunlcatloD  to  Frieuda,  30li;  style. 
WI;  Jadalsni  Id  Music,  322;  eln- 
«ldsUoiisoaUieaani«,330;  Tann- 
hauier  Guide,  177,  370;  Od  Con- 
ducting, 427;  Lisit's  Sympbonic 
Poems.  II.  17;  Music  of  tlie  Fu- 
ture, 72;  NlbeiuQg  Pretace  and 
Epilogue,  100 ;  Vienna  Court  Op- 
era, 110;  Judaism,  CoDducting, 
248;  Boethoveo,  348;  Gel 
Art  and  Politics,  SA2;  A  Capitu- 
lation, 2M;  Wliac  is  German' 
2S7;  Coilected  Writings,  268 
Actora  Bad  Siogen!,  Designatioi 
or  Music  Drama,  On  Acting.  2>t] 
German  Opera-Hoiwea,  3S8;  last 
essays,  3S5-^T;  last  schemes, 
4M ;  style,  497. 

Lohpn^Tin  :  Paris,  1H91,  I.  84,  277 
creation  of,  19D;  submitted  It 
Lisit,  22B;  affect  on  W.,  23B: 
guide  to,  23T ;  fears  for,  238;  story 
of,  240-247;  first  perf< 
24T ;  duration,  249,  250 ;  cuts, ; 
W.'b  oplniou  of,  201 ;  Llazt 
2SS;  Franz  on,  2A9;  comments. 
263-271;  chorus.  26S;  coDtinuous 
melody,  267;  progress  of,  271, 
dsdication,  273;  popularity,  2T7 
will  tt  pay  to  print?  354;   "  Im 

poHible,"  370,  371;    Biilonr  oi 


fomi,416;  piano  score,  n.  4;  tint 
heard  by  W.,  t09 ;  model  perform- 
ance, at  Mualcb,  213;  success  in 
Paris.  3S5;  in  Italy,  308;  under 
W.  at  Vienna,  292;  aooth  pe^ 
formance  In  Berlin,  39fi;  Lsading 
Motives,  49S ;  In  America,  611. 
LondoD;  first  visit, 1.66;  Philhar- 
monic concertB  under  W.,  443- 
460;  fitet  W.  operas,  11.  298;  fes- 
tival of  1877.  :n8-3e3;  Fariifal 
Impossible  in,  413;  W.  opanuln 

Lovefeaat  of  the  Apostles,  I.  146. 
Jjove,  romantic,  In  W.'s  operas,  XL 

161-170. 362. 
LnGca,P.,n.49I. 
Lucerne  (see  also  Trlebachen),  U. 

B7. 
Ludwig  II.;  privau  performaneee, 

I.  39;  dedication  of  score,  47; 
romantic    friendship   with   W., 

II.  121-125;  asks  W.  to  finish 
Tetralogy,  126 ;  asks  W.  to  leave 
Munich,  180;  risiU  W..  183; 
disliiies  Tichatschek,  213;  con- 
gratulatory telegram,  369;  at 
Bayrenth,  297;  to  the  t«aene, 
389,  402 ;  suggeats  Partifat,  309 ; 
two  black  swana,  401;  aenda 
wreath,  45a 

Liibke,  W.,  IL430L 
LUttichau,  I.  93,  236. 
Luxury,  lova  of,  1. 40B,  IL  U^  137, 
191-196. 


Magdeburg,  I.  41, «. 

Mariafeld,  n.  III-IIS. 

Marschner,  I.  428. 

Mason,  W.,  11.  SOS. 

Matema,  A.,  II.  289. 

Meltul,  I.  313. 

Meiftertini/er :  overtore.  I.  439; 
piano  score,  U.  4;  compositioD  of, 
107-lU  i  W.  on,  114 ;  work  oo.  at 


INDEX 


628 


Trlebeehen,  182;  completed,  213; 
rehearsals,  213;  first  perfonn- 
anoe,216;  story  of,  217-223;  com- 
ments on,  224-231;  humorous 
f eatnres,  224 ;  aotobiographic 
element,  226;  compared  with 
LohengHn,  232;  its  "popular" 
character,  233;  early  production 
of,  236. 

Melody:  in  Lohengrin,  I.  267; 
search  for,  431 ;  real,  veraiis  tune, 
IL  155-161;  Schumann  on,  Ite; 
endless,  157, 158 ;  scarce,  in  Italian 
opera,  160 ;  harmonic,  160 ;  in 
TrUtan,  159,  173;  in  Walkure, 
897 ;  Tocal  or  orchestral,  488. 

Mendelssohn  :  and  W.'s  symphony, 
L  30;  clique,  215 ;  W.'s  opinion  of, 
8121, 344;  vanity,  and  intolerance 
of  rivals,  343 ;  English  god  of 
music,  450  ;  as  conductor,  452. 

Mend^,  C,  I.  333,  U.  184. 

Meser,  1. 203,  385. 

Mettemich,  Princess,  IL  68,  80. 

Meyerbeer:  profits,  1. 54;  aidsW., 
67,  71,  75;  no  result,  76,  77;  in 
Berlin,  9i;  letter  commending 
W.,  86;  leaves  Berlin,  134;  exas- 
perates W.,  226;  W.'s  opinion  of, 
806, 335-342 ;  condemned  by  great 
composers,  338;  on  W.,  342. 

Modulation,  n.  321,  322,  386. 

Mohr,  W.,  n.  274. 

Money  troubles,  see  Debts. 

Mozart:  Franz  on,  I.  260;  W.  on, 
302,  315;  traditions,  425;  Don 
Juan  "impossible,"  II.  103; 
"not  a  composer  of  note,"  274; 
on  poetry  and  music,  469. 

Mnncker,  F.,  II.  383. 

Munich:  Dutchman,  I.  137;  W. 
and  King  Ludwig,  II.  121-125; 
attacks  on  W.'s  personality,  127- 
132 ;  "  the  second  Bayreuth,"  133 ; 
first  W.  piece  (1852),  133;  first 
W.  operas,  134;  first  perform- 


ance, Tristan,  138;  political 
accusations,  177,  178;  projected 
Wagner  theatre,  180,  209;  W.'s 
banishment,  180 ;  occasional 
visits,  211;  first  MeiaterHnger 
performance,  216;  Eheingold  and 
WalkUre,  242-244;  arrangement 
with  Bayreuth,  390. 

Music-drama:  elements  in  Dutch- 
man, 1. 129;  is  Tannhauaer  one? 
176;  Weber's  ideal  of,  265;  U 
Lohengrin  one?  268;  to  displace 
other  arts,  294;  pantomimic 
music  in,  312;  the  name,  n.  143; 
the  third  style,  322;  verms 
spoken  drama,  326. 

Myth,  I.  204;  Rubinstein  on,  346; 
and  music,  n.  474-477. 


N 


Napoleon,  n.  67, 71. 

Nature.  W.'s  love  of,  L  404-408. 

Neumann,  A.,  n.  392,  396. 

New  York,  see  America. 

Nibeluny^s  Ring  (see  also  Khein^ 
gold,  WalkUre,  Siegfried,  and 
OdtterdSmmerung) :  first  sketch 
of,  I.  204, 354 ;  writing  the  poem, 
348-359;  first  festival  plan,  354, 
356;  poems  printed  privately, 
357;  "  bum  it,"  373;  piano  score, 
II.  4;  offers  scores  to  publisher, 
37;  animals  in,  198;  scores  pub- 
lished, 288 ;  rehearsals,  289,  293- 
295;  analysis  of,  313-375;  statis- 
tics of  performances,  374;  on  its 
travels,  391-304;  statistics  for 
fifteen  years,  391;  in  Italy,  393; 
honorarium  for,  439;  Leading 
Motives,  499;  in  America,  513. 

Niemann,  A.,  II.  69,  491. 
'  Nietzsche,  F.,  IL  466. 

Nohl,  IL  174,  214. 

"Noisiness":  Rienzi,  L  114; 
Tristan,  U.  150;  Rheingold,  325. 


Nonnwd,  n,  400. 
NoraMM,  1. 8L 
ITovietttfPttiermo,  L  iS,  a 
Noltter,  C,  IL  78. 


OvUrlsln,  PntMw,  I.  Ssa,  1L380, 

IBI.IBi. 
Opera:  PuU,  L  T«;  daOuftkm  ci. 

180,  >ei;  erolDtlon  ol,  300. 
Optnloni  ol  otbar  oompOMn,  W.'l, 

L  308-347,  n.  IS. 
OichMIn,   invUblB,    U.  388-281; 

dlrectlDfu  to,  200;  knd  Biugen, 

aOBi  tBcnltj  of  definite  ■peeoh, 

849,101. 
Orcbeetratloii:  LohmgHn,  I.  2S7, 

268;    Pruu    on,   2S1;    UiinUug 

operM  la  orchettral  colore,  U. 

28;  7Wjtan,14ei   WalkUrt,  336; 

glftot,4TT;  ue«ltiitraa]euta,499. 

OTertorea:  flnt,  L26;  BaleBiiUn- 

Ula,  Polonla,  63;   Colombag,  77; 

Tatmhijuer,  popnUrlCj  ot,  189. 


PalMtrfna,I.lsa,  309. 

Paiii :  flnt  viilt,  I.  67-03  ;  Lohen- 
grin In  1891,  81;  Mcond  vblt, 
336;  fttter  twenty  feui,  n.  eO; 
caae<rts,AS;  TannhSuter  uii  the 
Jockey  Club,  67-83;  ancceai  ol 
Lohensrin,2S6;  Aienif,  2BS. 

Parf^/iil.'  for  Municb,  I.  39;  germB 
of,  II.  204;  composition  of,  396- 
401 ;  anfcgeeted  bj  King  Ladwig, 
399;  poem  completed,  399;  fundo 
rorreitiTal,4ai;  rebesraals, 402 
casU,  403 ;  Blory  of,  4M-41!;  com. 
,    412-429;    "  blaspbe- 


,"413;  I 


n,  413, 


414;  fculdee  to,  414;  tlie 

417;   aoenlo  mureta,  418,  43a\ 

mtulo  not  tot  ooneert  b*U,  420; 


the  Biiule,  4S0-^SK}  ehomi  fait 
427;  eulyaialodlM  in,  M,1X; 
oritiee  on,  420-133;  nnmlMr  of 
bkn,429;  flnt  perfommnoe,  488; 
a  <tTi*i«ft»i  ineoew,  487;  boamw 
tinm  tot,  430;  LeMdlof  Molina, 
MO. 

Padit,  F.,  I.  SS. 

Pedro,  DoD,  IL  18, 308. 

Pepe,  n.  aoo. 

PerfsU,IL243. 
Perl,  H.,IL  443. 
Pfohl.  F.,  n.  41B. 

PhlllEtine,  deflultiMi  o(,  L  UB;  M* 
Critics. 

iuiofotte,  n.  13, 13,  as. 

ictorUleeow,  1. 18. 

PUXrimage*.  L  IIS,  273,  IL  380. 

Pianer,  ICnna,  aee  Wagner,  Mbma. 

Poetry:  writM  hU  own,  1. 36 ;  ifw- 
iet  of  Palermo  and  Bientl,  L 
109;  Dulelariaa,  127;  Tarmhtu- 
ttr.  173;  Lohtngrin,  306,  364; 
Rheinaold,  3G6;  WaOMre,  SSI; 
Siegfried'!  Death  and  Oatter- 
dammerung,  348-3B3;  Siagfritd. 
3S3;  tranalaUnB,  II.  00;  Mti»ler- 
tinger,  107;  Nih^htng,  printed, 
106;  TrUlan,  143-I4B,  100;  OOD- 
dltlons  the  moilc,  148;  Iteltter- 
tiTiger,  224;  iofloence  ot  Soho- 
penhaner,  2S0 ;  open-air  dramas, 
319,331,346,347;  Waltiire,332i 
Siegfried,  3*6;  OStterdammer. 
ung,  363;  Partifal,  I.  204,  IL 
see,  413-tla;  pecaliarltlee  in 
general,  4BT-477;  wrltlog  own 
llbrettoi,  4ff7;  new  ploto,  168; 
popolarliM  mjtlie,  468;  allltar- 
ation  and  rlijrme.  470;  tlui  free- 
dom and  variety  of  proee.  (72; 
unumal  wordi,  473;  mjrth  and 
music,  4T4;  musical  Mrnu  Ut> 
erary,  474. 

Pohl,  B.,  I.  S2,  1T4,  aOB,  337,  SBl, 
U.  100,  227,  34Bk  2BS. 


INDKX 


526 


PoUtlot,  L  200-219,  227,  U.  177, 
178,262,273,296. 

Forges,  H.,  U.  290,  290. 

Portrait,  Herkomer's,  of  W.,  II. 
381. 

PrMger,  F.,  I.  22,  65,  66,  67,  72, 
212,  327,  340,  397,  403,  424,  434, 
447,  n.  1,  4,  27,  49, 118, 127, 181, 
204, 206,  209,  212,  240,  264, 399. 

Press,  see  Critics. 

Pioelss,  I.  93. 

Prophecies,  I.  1-4,  136,  191-198, 
277-287,  373. 

Pnschmann,  IL274. 


Reflection,  IL  494. 

Beicher-Kindemutim,  Fran,  11.394. 

Beissiger,  L  96, 100,  214, 210,  429. 

Religion  and  operas,  L  96,  IL  413. 

Berolntion,  at  Dresden,  L  200-219; 
artistic,  227. 

Bheingold:  poem  sketched,  L  306; 
compodtion  of,  409;  orchestra- 
tion, n.  29 ;  proof-sheets  delayed, 
76;  no  chorus,  230;  in  Munich, 
242-244;  W.  at  rehearsal  of,  294; 
atBayreuth,  308;  scenery,  300, 
319;  story  of,  313-318;  comments 
on,  318-326 ;  open-air  drama,  319 ; 
scenic  features,  320;  not  noisy, 
828;  stupid  neglect  of,  391;  num- 
ber of  bars,  429;  alliteration, 
471. 

Bhyme,  n.  470, 472. 

Bichter,  H. :  at  Triebschen,  n.  183; 
chorus-master  for  MeiaterHnger, 
218,  236;  and  JK^ein^o/d  in  Mu- 
nich, 243;  why  chosen  for  Bay- 
reuth«  289;  in  London,  379. 

Bidicule,  power  of,  IL  296. 

Riemann,  H.,  n.  420, 438. 

Riga,  1. 07. 

Bienzi:  two  acts  of,  1. 09, 74;  fin- 
ished, 89;  accepted  in  Dresden, 


91,  98;  hints,  98;  first  perform- 
ance, 99-102;  sUny  of,  100-108; 
W.'s  opinion  of,  108-111;  poem 
of,  109, 110;  in  Berlin,  112;  com- 
ment on,  112-114;  performances 
in  1889-1891,  113;  pilgrims  to, 
110;  critics  on,  134;  at  Hamburg, 
201;  in  Paris,  H.  250. 

Ring  of  the  Nibelung  (see  JTi&s- 
lung'a  Ring). 

Ritter,  J.,  L  390,  n.  49. 

Roche,  E.,  n.  63,  70. 

Rockstro,  W.  8.,  IL  173. 

Boeckel,  A.,  L  212,  203. 

Rossini,  L  304,  8U,  n.  94-67,  287, 
442. 

Rubinstein,  ▲.,  on  W.,  L  846,  IL 
227. 

Rnssia,  IL  104, 120. 


8 


Sachleben,  IL  209. 

Saint-Saens,  IL  297,  826,  886,  316, 
364,  367,  496. 

Scaria,  E.,  IL  490. 

Scenery:  at  Bayreuth,  n.  304,  306, 
419. 

Schiller.  I.  2,  n.  476. 

Schieinitz,  Fran  yon,  II.  260, 290. 

Schlesinger,  I.  68,  77, 79. 

Schnorr,  U.  136, 138, 170,  480. 

Schopenhauer :  on  love,  II.  167, 
168 ;  on  childish  trait  in  genius, 
200;  opinions  on  music,  249;  and 
W.'s  poetry,  200;  on  W.,  201;  on 
WalkUre,  331 ;  in  Parsifal,  417. 

Schroeder-Devrient,  L  97, 117. 

Schubert,  I.  319, 420. 

Schucht,  n.  286. 

Schumann :  on  TannhSuieTf  1. 196 ; 
W.  on,  197 ;  on  melody,  II.  106. 

Schurx,  C,  I.  326. 

Scribe,  I.  04. 

Seidl,  Anton :  anecdote,  IL  208 ;  on 
Dragon  in  tiieg/H6d,9B2i  ehoasn 


626 


INDEX 


by  Wagner,  896;  aneodote,  399; 
on  chomi  in  Par9{fal,  427 ;  Cen- 
tennial liarch,  510;  Wagner's 
pupil  and  aasistant,  012, 613. 

Semper,  L  206,  n.  178, 160. 

Seni^res,  IL  266. 

Shedlock,  J.  S.,  I.  92,  n.  446. 

Siegfried:  original  design,  I.  348, 
349,  363;  two  acts  composed,  II. 
34 ;  W.'s  faTorite  drama,  39 ;  why 
composition  interrupted,  41;  re- 
sumed, 182,  242;  comic  features, 
211;  no  chorus,  236;  story  of, 
340-^346;  unoperatic  character, 
346;  a  forest  drama,  346,  347; 
comments,  346, 366 ;  voices  of  the 
forest,  360;  a  Dragon  for  grown 
children,  361 ;  orchestral  realism, 
364 ;  love-duo,  364. 

SieafHed*8  Death,  I.  204,  348,  360. 

Siegfried  Idyl,  II.  246. 

Singers  (see  also  Vocal  Style): 
Rubini,  I.  80;  German,  89,  238; 
as  actors.  179;  for  Bayreuth,  II. 
287;  directions  to,  at  Bayreuth, 
294;  and  orchestra,  296;  model 
behavior  of,  at  Bayreuth,  304; 
Bayreuth  casts,  303,  306,  306; 
W.'s  attitude  toward,  462 ;  vermis 
operas,  478;  change  in  function 
of,  479;  when  below  the  level  of 
their  task,  481;  must  be  good 
musicians,  486;  W.'s  apprecia- 
tion of  Italian,  487 ;  spurious  W. 
singers,  489 ;  W.'s  directions  to, 
490;  not  injured  by  W.'s  style, 
491 ;  self-taught,  491 ;  evolutipn 
of  Wagnerian,  491,  492. 

Singing,  see  Vocal  Style. 

Songs,  I.  70. 

Speeches,  1. 160. 

Speeches,  W.'s  "scandalous,"  II. 
293  307. 

Speidel,  n.  171,  272,  370,  423,  431. 

Spohr:  on  Dutchman,  I.  139;  on 
TannhSuieT,  194 ;  Lohengrin,  161. 


Spontiiii,  1. 161, 168. 
btatham,  H.  H.,  IL  368; 

Stories,  L  81. 

Strauss,  L  321,  II.  240. 

Stuttgart,  n.  121. 

Switzerland,  see  Ziirieh,  Lnoame, 
and  Nature. 

Symphonic  Poems,  1. 17. 

Symphony:  W.'s  first,  L  29^; 
second,  34;  and  symphonic 
poems,  n.  17;  modnlaHon  in, 
386;  levival  of  flzst,  444. 


TcmnhauBer:  plot  sketched,  L90; 
composition  of,  163;  stinry  of, 
164-172;  comments,  173-181;  a 
mnaioHlrama?  176;  first  per- 
formance, 181-186;  why  ending 
changed,  186;  critics  and  proph- 
ets, 187;  overture  in  England, 
189 ;  neglected  four  years,  201 ; 
at  Weimar,  220;  fate  of  Guide, 
370 ;  success  of  the  new,  374 ;  ten 
years'  struggle  to  get  into  Berlin, 
376-382  ;  overture,  437 ;  ordered 
by  Napoleon,  n.  67;  opposed  by 
Jockey  Club,  73-84 ;  revision  of 
(Paris  version),  74,  84,  86;  first 
Paris  performance,  79;  conducted 
by  W.  in  Vienna,  291 ;  300th  per- 
formance in  Berlin,  396 ;  Leading 
Motives,  497;  in  America,  611. 

Tappert,  W.,  I.  28,  36,  38,  146,  190, 
193,  202,  n.  23,  237,  267, 366,  400, 
430,  444,  466. 

Tausig,  K.,  visits  W.,  IL  47;  idea 
of  Patrons'  Certificates,  260; 
death,  261. 

Tempo,  modification  of,  L  429. 

Theatre :  aversion  to,  I.  68 ;  object 
of,  206;  plan  for  national,  206. 

Theatrical  Wagner  family,  L  5-0. 

Thomas,  T.,  II.  606-611. 

Tichatschek,  1. 96,  Vt,  306. 


INDEX 


627 


TtKnH,  W.'s  lore  of»  n.  40i-406. 

TrielMclien,  U.  182,  258,  2n. 

Triatan  and  Isolde:  piano  score, 
n.  4 ;  why  intemipted  Siegfried, 
41 ;  first  sketch,  44 ;  score  paid 
iatf  46;  second  act  composed  in 
Venice,  00-57 ;  Liszt  on,  66 ;  com- 
pleted, 57;  originality  of,  58; 
plans  for,  69, 99 ;  W.'s  opinion  of, 
KU. ;  prelude  refused  for  concerts, 
106;  rehearsals,  196-138;  first 
performance,  138  ;  story  of,  138- 
143;  a  poem  for  poets,  143;  a 
score  for  musicians,  146  ;  W.  on, 
147;  perfection  of  form,  148; 
orchestration,  149;  harmony  and 
discords,  160-154;  as  a  loye- 
tragedy,  163;  the  potion,  164- 
106;  free  from  immorality,  166- 
168;  loye-duo,  168,  170;  melody 
In,  160, 173 ;  neglected,  174 ;  waits 
■even  years  for  performance, 
237 ;  Jensen  and,  239 ;  in  Berlin, 
202 ;  Importance  of  vocal  part, 
480;  Niemann  on,  491. 


UhUg,  L  165,  394-^96. 
Upton,  G.  P.,  IL  446. 


Vendnunin  Palace,  II.  439. 

Venice,  U.  60-57;  439^151. 

Vocal  style:  German  singers,  I. 
838;  Franz  on  Lohengrin^  261; 
Tristan  "impossible,"  n.  99- 
103;  characterization  in  Khein- 
gold,  324;  Siegfried  role,  349; 
W.'s,  in  genera],  477-492 ;  change 
of  opinion,  477 ;  the  "  statue  "  not 
In  the  orchestra,  479;  yocal  part 
more  important  than  orchestral, 
480;  the  florid  style  instrumen- 
tal, 481;  Liszt  on,  483;  evolution 
of  W.'s,  483;  elimination  of  in- 


stnimental  featoiee,  486;  how  a 
funny  charge  aroee,  486;  diffi- 
culties, 486;  and  German  lan- 
guage, 487;  German  and  Italian 
styles,  487;  new  vocal  types,  488; 
realism  and  characterization, 
488;  vocal  and  orchestral  mel- 
ody, 489;  the  true  Wagnerian, 
489,  490;  W.  as  teacher,  480. 

Vogl,  H.,  I.  47,  II.  12a 

Victor,  The,  II.  414,  454. 

Vienna:  first  visit  to,  1. 29;  TVinTi- 
h&user,  382;  attempts  with  7W«- 
tan,  100-103 ;  Meieter singer,  240; 
Nibelung  concert,  266;  W.  con- 
ducts Tannh'duser  and  Lohen^ 
grin,  291;  a  '*  scandalous " 
speech,  291. 

Vivisection,  IL  387. 

W 

Wagner's  ancestors,  brothers,  and 
sisters,  L  5-9. 

Wagner,  Adolf,  L  6. 

Wagner,  Albert,  I.  37. 

Wagner,  Cosima :  translates  essays, 
I.  82 ;  compared  with  Minna,  IL 
118;  tragic  marriage,  125;  and 
Bfilow,  245;  at  Bayreuth,  280; 
in  Venice,  443, 449,  454, 460. 

Wagner  Encyclopaddia  and  Lexi-    ' 
con,  L  317. 

Wagner,  Minna:  marriage,  L  52; 
appearance  and  disposition,  52, 
53;  actress,  60;  self-denial,  72; 
on  the  revolution,  209 ;  joins  W. 
in  Paris,  228;  a  philistine,  230; 
at  home,  II.  39;  ill-health,  tem- 
per, 48 ;  does  not  understand  W., 
49;  temporary  separation,  49; 
final  separation,  115-119;  did 
not  love  W.,  117 ;  denies  slanders, 
177 ;  death,  118. 

Wagner,  Richard,  Personal  £R«- 
tory:  birth,  I.  10;  first  musical 


I,  U;  fint  poMlo  e^ 
forti,  19,  aO;  tun*  to  mule,  M ; 
Ant  openw,  SB;  oondnetor  M 
lUgdaborg,  41;  m  itep  baok- 
WMd,  41;  flrat  critical  anay,  48; 
fint  manlaca,  BO ;  oondoetor  at 
KSnlgiberg,  Bl;  at  Biga,  ST; 
flight  from  Bnnia,  62 ;  Yoyage  to 
Pari*,  BB;  dlnppoliitiiiaiitB,  68- 
76;  rstnina  to  Dradan,  91-98; 
appointvd  royal  ooodootor,  144  j 
lUe  la  the  raYolntiaD,  3(N-2ie| 
why  he  beoanw  a  nbtl,  211 
fll^  to  Wdmar,  220;  In  FwU 
■gain,  39Si  literary  work  In 
ZOrieb,  38»-»T;  flnt  lore,  337; 
llto  in  ZOrieh,  BBS;  rouewal  of 
WMiaat,  301 ;  depBndwtcm  Unt, 
383;  trlenda  tniMed,3!IO;ga««to 
Loodon,  443;  back  to  Zttrieh,  U. 
1 ;  abudooB  Siagfritd,  41 ;  offer 
bom  BrazU,  43;  trip  to  Paris, 
4B;  goea  to  Venice,  BO;  dUap- 
(ointmenti  and  trisla,  B3 ;  dealrw 
a  pension,  64;  haraBied  bjSazoa 
effldala^  SB;  back  to  Paria,  60; 
Napoleon  orders  Tanntidtutr,  6A ; 
partial  amnesty.Tl ;  bears  Lohen- 
grin first  time,  101;  in  search  of 
a  king,  106:  separation  bom 
Ifinna,  llS-119;  pnnned  by  cred- 
itors, 119;  beoomea  King  Lnd- 
wig'a  friend,  131;  the  enemy  at 
work,  127;  prevented  twenty 
years  from  bringing  oat  an  opera, 
134;  "  the  Klng'i  favorite,"  ITS; 
political  accasatlons,  ITT;  rellg- 
tons  attacks,  ITS;  Influence  on 
King,  179;  banished  again,  180; 
gets  an  annuity,  183;  royal  and 
other  rlsltors  at  Triebschen,  1S3 ; 
•econd  marriage,  34B;  moTes  to 
Bayrenth,  ZTT;  London  fsatlTal, 
8TS-382 ;  spends  last  wlntets  In 
Italy,  400;  Hi-health  In  1882, 4S8; 


Wafnar,  Blobard,  Personal  TrvtU, 
HablU,  Utmdt,  Opfnfoni,  Ap- 
paaranet :  inherited  love  of  tbe»- 
tre,  LB,  21;  not aprodigy,  16-30; 
boyish  tr^ts,  21-31;  "Anwri- 
«an,"  36,'  re^leasneaa,  S4;  early 
areralon  to  actors,  BS;  ImpiOTl- 
denoe,  60 ;  no  talent  tot  intrigue, 
SB;  amiability,  88;  lack  of  di- 
plomacy, 113;  fiatitDde,  MOj 
"eooentridty,"18Bi  IngraUtnde 
to  King  of  Saxony,  310;  polios 
portrait,  334;  oonjngal  derotioo, 
329;  nnpracttcal  ride,  330;  ao- 
oep^lielp  for  his  art's  sake,  SSI; 
pngnaci^,  237,  333;  WMpa  ovor 
own  oreatioaa,  3BS;  art  (anMl- 
elam,SB7;  deToll<Hitaworit,aM; 
dlilikM  UMonUoal  writing,  307; 
oritlfeAl  method,  809;  pnjndlo* 
against  Jews,  tSt ;  ignoiM  per- 
sonal considerations,  334,  836; 
art  tisrno  gratitude,  339;  change 
of  opinion,  341 ;  extravagaooa, 
36T,  3B8;  soorces  of  happlneas. 
3B9;  personal  appeatanoe In  1B4S, 
262;  entliDslaam  lor  BhaUey, 
Hafls,  and  SchopsnhaiiM,  SBS;  at 
theidBQ0,3BB;  sonrca* of  nahai^ 
piness,  3B6-.ieO;  domestla  joya, 
rapture  orer  opetatic  soccMa, 
366;  tnJcidal  tbooghts,  emoMonal 
fluctuation*,  36T ;  tortorsd  by  the 
fate  of  his  operas,  368;  protaata 
against  performanc«s,  Sll;  la* 
ilitsoD  corr«ctaeu,  373;  worried 
by  money  tioablea,  383-390;  sup- 
ports his  wife's  parents,  385; 
claims  on  contemporaries,  886 ; 
eflorta  to  help  himself,  387;  good 
only  forcompoelng,  388;  egotism 
as  a  TirtDS,  393 ;  friendship  wltb 
Uhllg,  9M;  with  FlMher,  386; 
"a  relief  to  ofFend,"  306;  tem- 
per  affected  by  health,  8D7;  af- 
teototWMf' 


INDEX 


629 


erjslptlas,  807;  dyspepsia,  in- 
somDU,  heart  trouble,  308;  abort 
work-boors,  990;  demon  of  nn- 
reet,  treatment,  400;  joy  OTer 
bealth,  401 ;  stimulants  and  diet, 
402-404 ;  love  of  nature  and  trav- 
el, 404-406;  loTe  of  luxury,  406; 
eause  of  sorrows,  407;  aversion 
to  stage,  420;  as  conductor,  420- 
400;  as  stage-manager,  423;  as 

^  teacber,    440;    "yanity,"    442; 

'  irony  at  a  concert,  400;  needs 
sympathy,  IL  3;  isolation,  som- 
bre mood,  5 ;  artistic  heroism,  6 ; 
gratitude,  love  of  Liszt,  10, 11 ; 
eagerness  for  good  piano,  12; 
practises  solfeggios,  14 ;  pugnac- 
ity not  responsible  for  his  ene- 
mies, 16;  conceives  poem  and 
music  simultaneously,  24 ;  meth- 
od of  composing,  23-32 ;  colossal 
industry,  31;  pleasure  of  creat- 
ing, 32 ;  tortures  of  intercourse, 
86;  pity  for  Minna,  48;  love  of 
noiseless  Venice,  51 ;  ugly  mood, 
65  ;  delight  at  Liszt's  approval, 
66;  isolation,  67 ;  self-deprecia- 
tion, 68;  appearance  (1869),  63; 
at  home,  in  Paris,  64 ;  conduct 
at  Paris  rehearsals,  77;  receives 
news  of  fiasco,  81;  habits  and 
moods  at  Mariafeld,  112-116 ;  suf- 
ferings, 113 ;  craving  for  luxury, 
114;  wretchedness  after  separa- 
tion from  Minna,  117 ;  unsocial, 
128-131 ;  distressed  for  the  King's 
sake,  129;  extraordinary  origi- 
nality, 161;  life  at  Triebschen, 
183;  appearance  described  by 
Mend^s,  185;  amiability  and 
sympathy,  187;  violent  temper 
and  reaction,  187 ;  love  of  luxury, 
191-196;  silks  and  satins,  191; 
W.  on  his  own  extravagance, 
193;  why  wore  silk,  194 ;  love  of 
brilliant  colors,   194;   feminine 


traits,  196;  tnia  noVUity  of  ehar- 
aeter  revealed  throoi^  hit  lova  of 
luxury,  196;  fondness  for  ani- 
mals, 197-204;  playfulness  and 
humor,  206-209;  ohildisb  traits, 
206,  206;  epistolary  jokes,  S07 
as  actor  and  stage-manager,  214 
satire,  variety  of  humor,  224, 286 
operatic  autobiography,  226 ;  lack 
of  tact,  248;  weakness  for  poll- 
tics,  262;  patriotism,  266;  refuses 
titles,  264;  excited  at  rehearsal, 
268;  *<  a  lunatic,"  274;  pluokl- 
ness,  276 ;  unbidden  visitors, 
276;  at  home  in  Bayrenth,  279; 
amiability,  280;  characteristio 
anecdotes,  281;  makes  a  "sean- 
dalous  "  speech,  291 ;  conduct  at 
rehearsals,  293;  another  scan- 
dalous speech,  307-310;  "van- 
ity" and  "impudence,"  308; 
Herkomer  on  powers  of  fascina- 
tion, 381;  W.  as  a  speaker,  888; 
attitude  toward  vivisection  and 
vegetarianism,  387 ;  talent  versus 
beauty,  416;  life  in  Venice,  43^ 
443;  charity,  442;  fondness  for 
illumination,  443;  work  and 
stimulants,  447;  summary  of 
traits,  455-407 ;  passion  for  work, 
466;  adoration  for  women,  456; 
great  letter-writer,  668;  hand- 
writing, 458;  as  a  reader,  459; 
appearance,  459 ;  faults,  461 ;  ill- 
ness and  irascibility,  462 ;  effect 
of  disappointments,  4G2 ;  egotism , 
463 ;  democratic  sentiments,  464 ; 
servants  and  pets,  464 ;  effect  of 
criticisms,  465 ;  of  foolish  praise, 
466 ;  universal  reformer,  467 ;  as 
vocal  teacher,  490;  vice  of  "re- 
flection," 494. 

Wagner  School,  II.  239. 

Wagner,  Siegfried,  n.  246. 

Wagner  societies,  n.  261. 

WalkHre :  first  hint  at,  L  866, 366; 


.4 


n.  n.  tn- 

fgr.  ai.  ■■;    taj      tn,  Itt SBl  3H.  »k 

~  L^  rwii,  ttSX 

C.  D..  n.iu,K 
tratar:  la  DwJm,  L  Ift-iS;  W^. 

MVMa*a«la.H;  ill  ■  >iiil|J 


hL  40;  a  IB,  OB. 


Wabm'.  e.  Tea,  II.  3«T,  3M. 
W»b«r.  J..  L  IT*. 


Zortdi,  nil  tB.  L  a 


■^^  .    ^ 


r 


% 


r 


'   •         ■■-.if  T-V.V 

t 

nl 

•      \ 

■^»I 

1 

j 

«^    V:     ] 

nv. 

1 

^ 

ft 

J 

SMkMd  UrtMnRy  UbrailM 

3  6105  124  427  860. 


V     -3- 


&  ■>•' 


a 


•7<r. 


^ 

DATE  DUE 

1 

1 

I 

1 

« 

4 

MAR  22 1963 


STANFORD  UNIVERSITY  LIBRARIES 
STANFORD,  CAUFORNIA 

94505