Farewell, my dear Ferdinand; all happiness to yours, and to the dear wife good wishes.
Richard Wagner.
Zurich, 7th July, 1855.
The next letter, dated eight days later than the preceding, will be admitted a jewel in Wagner’s crown. Picture this great intellect, the creator of the colossal Nibelung tetralogy (with its Gräne, the steed of the Valkyrie), crying “incessantly” over the grave of a dead dog, postponing the removal of his household to nurse the dying creature until its last moments, and then himself burying it in the garden. The whole of this touching recital bespeaks a tenderness, a wealth of human love and large-heartedness, which show Wagner, the man!
ILL-HEALTH OF MINNA.
Dearest Friend Ferdinandus: A thousand hearty congratulations to the newly born. Right gladly I agree to become god-father and, if you think it will bring fortune, add my surname as well.
I arrived here in this paradise a few days ago. I read your letter on the left corner of the balcony of the hotel, the picture of which heads this letter. Occasionally, while reading, I raised my eyes and looked beyond upon the magnificent Alps, which you cannot fail to notice at the side of the hotel. I say that I looked from the letter occasionally, since its contents afforded me matter for reflection, and I found solace and comfort in the contemplation of the sacred and noble surroundings. You have no conception how beautiful it is here, how pure the air that one breathes, and how beneficially this wonderful spectacle acts on me. I fancy you would become delirious with joy at the prospect, so that the return to London would be a sad event; yet you must undertake this trip next year with your dear wife.
But how strange that the same incident should have happened to us both at about the same moment! You remember that I expected to see my old and faithful dog, “Peps.”[16] Well, shortly before my arrival he had been taken ill, but nevertheless he received me with the greatest delight, and soon began to improve somewhat in health. The day of our departure for Seelisberg was already fixed, where, as I wrote to you, I was going with my wife, my dog, and bird.[17] Suddenly dangerous symptoms showed themselves in “Peps,” in consequence of which we put off our journey for two days so as to nurse the poor dying dog. Up to the last moment “Peps” showed me a love as touching as to be almost heartrending; kept his eyes fixed on me, and, though I chanced to move but a few steps from him, continued to follow me with his eyes. He died in my arms on the night of the 9th-10th of the month, passing away without a sound, quietly and peacefully. On the morrow, midday, we buried him in the garden beside the house. I 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. It has clearly taught me that the world exists only in our hearts and conception. That the same fate should befall your young dog at almost the same moment has deeply affected me. I have often thought of “Gypsy,”[18] and wished I had taken him with me, and now that fiery creature too is also suddenly dead!! There is something terrible in all this!!! And yet there are those who would scoff at our feeling in such a matter!
Alas! I am often tired of life, yet life is ever returning in a new guise, alluring us anew to pain and sorrow. With me now it is sublime nature which ever impels me to cling to life as a new love, and thus it is I have begun once more to work. You have again been presented with a new-born life. I wish you happiness with all my heart. I feel as though I had some claim to the boy, for it was during the last four months prior to his entering the world that I came a new member into your household. The affection I sought was vouchsafed to me in the highest degree; the mother’s mind was no doubt much occupied with that strange, whimsical individual, whom, to his great joy, she so heartily welcomed. May it not be, perhaps, that before he saw the light, this may have influenced the little stranger! if so, my heartiest wish is that it may bring him blessings. Now give my best greetings to sister Léonie, and thank her heartily for all the kindness she showed me. I can but wish her the happiest motherly joys; remember me to Henry; he is to care for his little brother as if it were a sister.
Farewell, and let me soon know how you all are, Keep up, and above all, see well that you come to visit me next year; kindly remember me also to my few London friends. Lüders and Sainton I thank for their friendly letter; you will soon hear from me. Farewell, dear brother,