As to his museum, the public reviled more than they praised it; they even went so far as to call it the "Krausteum" (so true it is that philanthropy engenders ingratitude)—because of the things gathered in by this millionaire, who believed himself to be doing right in ordering pictures from poor artists from whom no one else had ever ordered!
As a matter of fact, the collection included not a few horrors and some very beautiful works.
The copies of the great masters, from Lenbach's brush, for example, seemed to me very remarkable. They recalled to me a commission for this artist, with which Cosima had charged me, and I decided to go at once to his studio, which was near the Schack gallery.
Lenbach had a delicate, rather crafty face, the sharp look of the hunter, a short, red-brown beard and a one-sided smile.
He showed me some delicious portraits of children which he was just finishing, he made me admire some authentic and very beautiful canvases of the old masters which were in his possession, among others, a sketch by Rubens and a splendid portrait of Francis I. by Titian.
This is what I had come to say to him:—
"It is absolutely necessary that you should paint the portrait of Richard Wagner, it is a disgrace to Germany that no artist of worth has yet attempted it. Madame Cosima sends the order to you, and leaves you free to fix your own price."
"I will undertake the work with the greatest pleasure," said Lenbach, "and I wish no further payment than the honour of having done it if I should succeed."
"That is indeed worthy of you," said I, holding out my hand to him, "but Cosima will doubtless feel differently, you must discuss that question with her."
"There is another portrait which I should also very much love to do, and it is yours."