Adieu, good lovable humankind, think with love of thy
Richard Wagner.
Paris, 28th June, 1855.
From Paris he went direct to Zurich, where Minna was waiting for him. He had scarcely arrived when he sent me the following. It is noteworthy, as it illustrates how a great man could interest himself in the small concerns of home life. His affection for domestic pets is once more touched upon, and that humour, which but rarely forsook him even in his pessimistic Schopenhauerian utterances, again playfully laughs throughout the letter.
GRIEF OVER HIS DOG.
Best greetings from Switzerland.
I hope you have already received tidings of me from Lüders. From you, however, I have not yet heard anything. You might at least have written to say you were glad to have got rid of me, how sister Léonie fares, and how Henry is, whether “Gypsy” (the dog) has made his appearance in society, whether the cat has still its bad cough. Heaven! how many things there are of which I ought to be informed in order to be perfectly at ease. As for me, I am still idle. My wife has made me a new dressing-gown, and what is more, wonderfully fine silk trousers for home wear, so that all the work I do is to loll about in this costume, first on one sofa and then on another.
On Monday next I go with my wife, the dog, and bird, to Seelisberg; there I think I shall at last get straight! If you could but visit me there. My address for the present is Kurhaus, Sonnenberg, Seelisberg, Canton Uri. I do not know how I can sufficiently express the pleasure which my wife wishes me to convey to you. Whilst I unpacked I chatted, and kept on chatting and unpacking. Several times she was deeply moved, particularly when we came to the carefully marked and neatly folded socks. Again and again she called out, “What a good woman that Léonie must be!” and then when the needle-case came out and that beautiful thimble, both she and I were mightily pleased. We wish your wife the happiest confinement that woman ever had, and at least six healthy children all at once with heavenly organized brains, every one to be born with a pocket containing ten thousand pounds each, and further, that your wife shall be able on the same evening of the confinement to dance a polka in the Praeger drawing-room. May it please heaven that this reverential wish shall be tenfold fulfilled, then your love for children will be fully satisfied.
In a few days you will receive a box with three medallions in plaster of Paris. These were modelled by the daughter of “the Princess Lichtenstein,” and are to be divided thus: one for the Praeger family, one for the family Sainton and Lüders (who I sincerely trust will never separate, and who are regarded by me as one family), and the other for the poor fellow of Manchester Street, Klindworth, the invalid, from whom I am expecting news about his performance of last Wednesday. I trust he is already at Richmond enjoying the benefit of hydropathy. I purpose writing to him as soon as I know his address. For the present greet the poor fellow heartily for me, and in my name try to console him for me. I will soon write to Sainton, and for that occasion I will pull together all the French I learned in London, so that I might be able to express to him my opinion that he is a splendid fellow. And what is dear Lüders about? I hear that he has headed the riot in Hyde Park. Is that true?[14] I hope he has not used my letter to Prince Albert in making lobster salad. I have often been unlucky with letters of mine. Even yesterday I found reproduced in Brendel’s “Neue Zeitschrift” a letter I had written to my old friend, Fischer, at Dresden. It has most disagreeably affected me, for if I had wished to express myself about the London annoyances I should have done it in a different manner, but I had not the slightest wish to do anything of the kind. However, I am heartily glad my time of penance is past, and forgive with my whole heart Englishmen for being what they are; still I am resolved, even in thought, never to have anything more whatsoever to do with them. But you, my dear friends, I will ever cherish in remembrance, and if all that is agreeable be but a negative of pain, then by the memory of your love and friendship is the period of my London tribulation blotted out.
A thousand hearty thanks for your love! Now you will, I hope, give me the joy of good news, and say that you love me still. To dear Edward[15] give my best greetings. It was a great pity I did not see him again.