“Paris, February 27th (March 10th), 1884.
“You have justly observed that the Parisians have become Wagnerites. But in their enthusiasm for Wagner, which is carried so far that they neglect even Berlioz—who, a few years ago, was the idol of the Paris public—there is something insincere, artificial, and without any real foundation. I cannot believe that Tristan and Isolde, which is so intolerably wearisome on the stage, could ever charm the Parisians.... It would not surprise me that such excellent operas as Lohengrin, Tannhäuser, and the Flying Dutchman should remain in the repertory. These, originating from a composer of the first rank, must sooner or later become of general interest. The operas of the later period, on the contrary, are false in principle; they renounce artistic simplicity and veracity, and can only live in Germany, where Wagner’s name has become the watch-word of German patriotism....”
To N. F. von Meck.
“Paris, February 29th (March 12th), 1884.
“ ... Napravnik writes that the Emperor was much astonished at my absence from the first performance of Mazeppa, and that he showed great interest in my music; he has also commanded a performance of Eugene Oniegin, his favourite opera. Napravnik thinks I must not fail to go to Petersburg to be presented to the Emperor. I feel if I neglect to do this I shall be worried by the thought that the Emperor might consider me ungrateful, and so I have decided to start at once. It is very hard, and I have to make a great effort to give up the chance of a holiday in the country and begin again with fresh excitements. But it has to be done.”
XIX
The official command to appear before their Imperial Majesties was due to the fact that on February 23rd (March 6th), 1884, the order of St. Vladimir of the Fourth Class had been conferred upon Tchaikovsky. The presentation took place on March 7th (19th), at Gatchina. Tchaikovsky was so agitated beforehand that he had to take several strong doses of bromide in order to regain his self-possession. The last dose was actually swallowed on the threshold of the room where the Empress was awaiting him, in agony lest he should lose consciousness from sheer nervous breakdown.
To Anatol Tchaikovsky.
“Petersburg, March 10th (22nd), 1884.
“I will give you a brief account of what took place. Last Saturday I was taken with a severe chill. By morning I felt better, but I was terribly nervous at the idea of being presented to the Emperor and Empress. On Monday at ten o’clock I went to Gatchina. I had only permission to appear before His Majesty, but Prince Vladimir Obolensky had also arranged an audience with the Empress, who had frequently expressed a wish to see me. I was first presented to the Emperor and then to the Empress. Both were most friendly and kind. I think it is only necessary to look once into the Emperor’s eyes, in order to remain for ever his most loyal adherent, for it is difficult to express in words all the charm and sympathy of his manner. She is also bewitching. Afterwards I had to visit the Grand Duke Constantine Nicholaevich, and yesterday I sat with him in the Imperial box during the whole of the rehearsal at the Conservatoire.”