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At Christmas-time Wagner read them the poem of the Nibelungen Trilogie that he had just completed. He read aloud for three evenings late into the night. On the third evening Frau Wille's youngest boy was lying ill of fever, and called for her. Wagner was displeased because she left the room while he was reading. Next morning he observed that the illness was not a mortal disease; it was bad criticism on an author to go away while he was reading, and he nick-named me Frika.' The name stuck to me; I did not protest against it. A few days later we left for Hamburg; my husband went on to Paris. We did not see our home and our friends again until spring came upon the land." In the year 1853 Wagner and his wife lived in the Zeltwego in Zurich. Frau Minna was an agreeable hostess. Liszt, who had just produced Lohengrin at Weimar, came to visit his friend there, and tell him of its success, for Wagner had never seen Lohengrin on the stage. Herr Wille, who was present, asked Liszt if he could not use his influence in Weimar to compass the possibility of Wagner's return to Germany. But Liszt replied that he knew of no position and of no stage that were adapted to Wagner's necessities. He needed a stage, singers, orchestra, in short, everything after his own mind. "That would cost over a million," said Herr Wille. Then suddenly Liszt, breaking into French, according to his wont when under the influence of great excitement, cried, “Il l'aura! Le million se trouvera. Soon after that the Wagners gave a supper party. Toward the end of the feast, Wagner disappeared for a moment, and returned in the uniform of a Saxon Court Kapellmeister. His movements were rather constrained, he came in rubbing his hands, and smiling NEW SERIES.-VOL. XLVI., No. 4

with good-natured irony. "Ja, ja, Minna," he said to his wife, "it was all very pretty, and I found favor in thy sight, then? Poor wife, what a pity that the uniform is too tight for me now!" Yet it was the. uniform that Karl Maria von Weber had worn contentedly enough, thought Frau Eliza; but "Wagner had indeed outgrown it, his mighty spirit gave him no peace.'" As the winter wore on, other revolutionary spirits joined the circle, and these worthy people would sometimes wax so bloodthirsty, and especially so noisy, that Wagner fled from them and sought the quiet of Frau Eliza's room. It is evident that Wagner the political refugee was a person of minor importance in the eyes of Wagner the Meistersinger. Passionately as Wagner felt his political grievances, they were always subordinate to his private ones. Although his subsequent influence on the condition of Europe through his hold on Ludwig II. was much greater than even he knew it to be, it is probable that, had not Paris laughed his Tannhäuser and his Lohengrin to scorn, Prussia might not have been able to count on the Bavarian Contingent; and the FrancoGerman War would have been indefinitely prolonged, and, perhaps, have ended differently. But these times were yet to come, and, meanwhile, the air was full of the rumors of German party struggles, insults, duels, and fiery newspaper articles.

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To escape the ennui of it all, the three inseparables, Hervegh, Wille, and Wagner, started on a pedestrian tour, which was soon converted into a carriage journey. When they reached the Italian lakes, Wagner, who could not tear himself away, allowed his friends to return without him, and sent for his wife and his dog Peps." The summer saw them back in Zurich. An enthusiastic admirer, a German merchant, and a few others had enabled Wagner to attract foreign artists to Zurich, so that selections from his works could be performed in the theatre of the town. The enthusiasm knew no bounds. He was appointed judge at the forthcoming musical contest (Sängerfest) of the Canton Wallis. "But Wagner disapproved of the unison of four men's voices. chorus wanting in women's voices was

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his aversion. So although he had accepted the flattering invitation at the last hour, the eagerly-expected umpire

sent an excuse.

In the winter Wagner directed the concerts in the Museumsaal, and proved himself the unrivalled conductor we wot of, although the means at his disposal were mediocre. Frau Wille remembers his directing the overture of Weber's Freischutz in such a manner that she joyed because the beautiful flourished upon earth."

In the autumn of the year 1854, Liszt, accompanied by his old friend, Princess Wittgenstein, and her daughter, paid a second visit to Wagner. Liszt invited a brilliant company to the Hotel Bauer, to hear as much of the Nibelungen as the Master had set to music. The enthusiasm was unbounded. Liszt stretched out his two hands in warm congratulation to his friend. Liszt and the Wittgensteins, with Wagner, spent many a pleasant hour at Mariafeld.

Wagner's exile in Zurich was certainly devoid of hardship. It was brightened by intercourse with tried and congenial friends, by the admiration and esteem of all who came in contact with him ("Every one," says Frau Wille, says Frau Wille, "was honored who could show courtesy to Wagner"), and by intellectual pleasures of no mean calibre.

In 1855 George Hervegh was joined by his beautiful young wife, and established himself with her and their children in a delightful villa, standing on a green hill, in what is now a suburb of Zurich. Wagner and Frau Minna installed themselves in a neighboring villa. Thenceforward he spent less time at Mariafeld, and the Willes were oftener in Zurich. Hervegh's tasteful and luxurious house appears to have become by common consent the centre of attrac tion, and there the three families and their ever-widening circle, increased by the Italian element Frau Hervegh had introduced, continued to weave the web of golden hours.

Of the ten years of his prime spent by Wagner in Zurich, he wrote that, shielded by friendship as quickly won as it was trusty, he had acquired the right to contest the title of Protectors of the Arts,' assumed by the conquerors of the revolution." In the peaceful

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stillness of those years his conception of the Art of the Future acquired a definite shape; he saw that he needed the union of every art for the production of the purely human element" in his works. The Nibelungen, the Meistersinger, and Tristan und Isolde prove that at that time his power was at its zenith. But the Ring der Nibelungen was not destined to be completed on the green hill near Zurich. Wagner left for Venice, where he finished Tristan und Isolde; Frau Wagner, who was in ill health and needed rest, for Dresden. During several years his friends in Zurich saw him but once. He wrote much in Lucerne; London, Paris, and St. Petersburg were other stages of his wanderings; but Wagner's life away from Zurich, except the glimpses of it obtained in his letters, has, to quote the closing words of this memoir, no place within the frame of these records." Frau Wille's gleanings from her own notes are confined to personal experiences; she does not profess to follow the steps by which he eventually attained the great end he had in view: "The fame of his achievements and the victorious power of his genius have no place in this chronicle, which is merely intended to elucidate his letters and certain traits of character. '

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In 1864 Wagner wrote to ask the Willes for the shelter of their roof, so that he might finish the Meistersinger in peace and comfort. His desire for the retirement necessary for the completion of his work had prompted him to refuse an engagement in St. Petersburg. The money he would have earned in that capital not being forthcoming, he could no longer afford to keep up his little establishment at Penzing, near Vienna. "Those who, being near to him, could appreciate his position, found it possible to understand, excuse, and extricate him" from some of its difficulties.

"As former invitations to pass some time with you had never been formally withdrawn, on to them I hang this, for me, most important, decisive, last attempt to save my work. I leave it to Frau W. to decide whether my workroom shall be in the main block, or in the little lodge I once inhabited. Some necessary furniture still remains to me. As for the rest, I only ask for food and

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service. In no other way will I give any trouble. . . This plan was, however, for the time being, not feasible; so Wagner wrote Herr Wille that he would be his guest for a short time "for friendship's sake," until he could decide on ways and means, and almost immediately followed his letter to Mariafeld. Herr Wille was in Constantinople, whither his wife had not accompanied him, because her sons-the elder a graduate of Hohenheim, the younger a law student at the Zurich high schoolwere at home for their holidays, and were expecting to enjoy them right heartily. But the arrival of the honored guests necessitated a change in their plans. Wagner's comforts were provided for according to the wishes expressed in his letter, he had entire freedom to devote himself to his work, and separate servants were told off to his especial service. Visitors from Zurich were denied admission; no one was permitted to break in upon Wagner's solitude; even his meals were served in his own apartment. He wrote and received many letters, he avoided Zurich, although he walked a great deal alone; yet he could not settle to his work. "I can see him even now,' says Frau Eliza, "pacing our garden terrace, in his long brown velvet coat and black skull cap, like a patrician who had stepped out of the frame of one of Albert Dürer's pictures." The rest he needed after the troubles that had overwhelmed him, he found at Mariafeld, but nothing could free him from the torments of his own mind. In the phase of anguish through which he was passing, a son would seek consolation of his mother, had he the good fortune to possess her; the strongest man sometimes needs the support of an affection that can bear with discontent, unjust wrath, and illtemper, as with passing clouds." Frau Eliza tried to comfort him in the reflection that " no remarkable man existed who had not in the contest with adverse persons fought his way through troubles (sometimes of the meanest kind) and eventually attained his crown." So that sometimes when he was reminded of the greatness" that was his portion, in weal or woe, he took heart of grace, and consented to look upon his troubles as mere passing clouds. He could not

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work, so he poured into his hostess's ear not only the burden of his present troubles, but many details of his existence past and present. He told her of his childhood and youth, of his early marriage and poverty, of how he had spoiled his wife by always yielding to her, the poor woman who was bound to a monster of genius. . . they might have been so happy together, had she understood that it was impossible for a being like himself to exist if his wings. were bound! What did she know of the divine right of passion which he had proclaimed in the death of the banished Walkyrie. Walkyrie. The sacrifice of her death amid the flames, is the dawn of the Götterdämmerung.

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Poor woman !" thought Frau Wille; "yet Wagner had loved her when they were both young. He must be thinking of her lonely life in Dresden. The duty to provide for her maintenance must be a weightier anxiety than all his other financial difficulties.' She was silent; but he divined her thoughts, for he knew that she earnestly desired to help him, but only in accordance with her feeling for what was "right and good."' He drew a letter from his pocket, telling her that it contained the wherewithal to provide for the necessities that were uppermost in the minds of both. "In Paris they are graciously pleased to allow un tantième to the composer whose works are performed in the open air!" He would tell her of the comfort and taste of his little establishment at Penzing, of his two servants, man and wife, and his splendid faithful dog, of his liking for Vienna," the only musical town in Germany," and of a hundred things that were interesting, because he told them so well. Surely no one was warmer-hearted or more amiable than their illustrious guest, thought Frau Wille and her sons! What if expressions of anger or disappointed. hope, due to his troubled life and stormy fantasy, escaped him? "Why, the wind must drive the fog asunder, and then the sun shines once more." If, however, the sun shone occasionally, the black clouds appear never to have been far distant. One day it was a cold letter from the Court of St. Petersburg that nipped his hopes in that direction; another would bring news of troubles

nearer home. No sooner did he attempt to settle to his work than the post would overwhelm him with worries of every kind; perplexities that paralyzed his every faculty, and disappointments which his overstrung nerves converted into the bitterest humiliation. Of himself he said: "I am differently organized to other people; my nerves are excitable beauty, splendor, and light I must have! The world owes me what I need! I could not exist on the miserable pay of an organist like your Master Bach Is mine an unheard-of pretension, because I think I have a right to the little bit of luxury that pleases me? I, who have given delight to thousands -to the whole world.

The winter wore on, and Wagner's mood changed again. He devoted his mornings to the Nibelungen, and when, in the evening, he joined the family circle, he was as amiable and fascinating as in the good old days. He played to them, and Frau Eliza felt as if she were witnessing"the triumph of the power of art over material obstacles;' or he spoke hopefully and confidently of himself, and it seemed to her as if from afar "she could discern the sound of the fanfares of victory." "I know what you are driving at," he once said to her, "when you tell me that you like the homely parlor I have placed my Hans Sachs in. I believe I have besides shown him under another aspect; he stands in the meadow, in the full light of day, on the day of St. John, while town and people cry All hail!' because he is the Meistersinger! The world shall marvel when it hears the notes and chords I strike in honor of the Meistersinger!"

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Schopenhauer was still his favorite philosopher. No one," said Wagner, has forced his way further into the spirit of this sage than I. Do you remember the message Wille once brought me from Frankfort from him? Thank your friend Wagner in my name for sending me his Nibelungen, but he must lay music on the shelf; he has more genius for poetry! I, Schopenhauer, am faithful to Rossini and Mozart! Do you Do you think I bore the philosopher any grudge? Gottfried Semper would never hear of Schopenhauer's philosophy; he held that it paralyzed the progress of

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The spring brought Herr Wille back to his home, and, once more, everything went merrily at Mariafeld. Wagner began to revisit his old friends in Zurich, and Mariafeld prepared to reopen its hospitable doors, when, suddenly, just as they all had returned from an evening walk, a packet of letters was placed in Wagner's hand. There and then he announced his immediate departure. Next morning he informed them of his intention to visit Stuttgart, Karlsruhe, and Hanover, to see if his works could be performed in either of those towns. But first he would need to re-establish his health by a course of healing waters. His arrangements were completed, he would leave some of his things behind, as he hoped to return in the summer, bringing with him Bülow and his wife to the neighboring villa. "Then they should hear music that would be a pleasure to the liebe Frau." Herr Wille was too surprised to say

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yes," or "no," and it is easy to discern between the lines of this record that his wife, notwithstanding her affection for their guest, and her adoration of his genius, was not insensible to the claim of poor desolate Vashti, at Dresden, on her sympathy. "Freundinn," said Wagner to Frau Wille, before his departure, you know not the magnitude of my sufferings, nor the depth of misery that lies before me." No depth of misery lies before you!" she replied.

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Something is going to happen, I know not what, but it will be something good, different to what you think. Have patience, it will lead to happiness." Next day a few lines reached her from Basle: He would return; she was to keep her friendship for him." To this Frau Eliza's straightforwardness prompted her to reply that she did not approve of his plans, that "other duties were in store for him and for them." Two days

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later Herr von Pfistermeister, the King of Bavaria's secretary, appeared at Mariafeld with news that was a startling fulfilment of Frau Wille's prophecy. The Willes could rejoice in the certainty of their friend's good fortune when they gave Herr von Pistermeister good speed on his way to Stuttgart, whence meanwhile Wagner was writing as follows:

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DEAR GOOD FRIENDS,

"I answer you in few words because I have told you so much. Your wish not to see me back in Mariafeld is in harmony with my own feelings on the subject. Let the stormy night of fever, that even the sweetest sunshine from without could not lighten, come to an end. . . . My immediate future is still uncertain; a doctor I consulted here advises Cannstadt. I like the Eckert family, and considerations of some moment ought to bring me in frequent contact with Baron Gall, manager of the Court Theatre here. We know that the Christian virtue of hope generally leads me to ruin when I put my trust therein. The performance of an opera, a ‘function I had not attended for ever so long, until yesterday, put me sadly out of sorts. Remember me to your sister. Forgive me, dear ladies, the intolerable anxieties I have caused you. . . . Never will the warmth of my gratitude cool : never! With all my heart "Your

"RICHARD WAGNER."

Later he writes: "DEAREST FRIEND,

"I should be the most ungrateful of mankind did I not at once inform you of my immeasurable happiness! You know that the young King of Bavaria has sent for me. Yesterday I was taken to him. Unfortunately he is so beautiful and intellectual, so glorious and full of soul, that I fear me his life in this common world will be but a fleeting godlike dream. . . . I am to stay with him forever, to work, rest and produce my works; he will give me all I need; I am to finish the Nibelungen and he will have it performed as I wish. I am to be my own master, lord of myself, not Kapellmeister, nothing but myself and his friend. All my troubles are to be

taken from me, I am to have all I need --so I but stay with him

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I only write to keep the thought that I could be ungrateful from coming to you. I passed through the dreadful labor pains of my happiness in your house, and you helped to bring it to light. . . . Even now I can hardly realize how I bore it all, and was enabled without any really definite hope to take my leave of you in so resigned and patient a frame of mind, had I not felt in my innermost consciousness as if my unheard-of sufferings had won for me a right (Arecht) of higher meaning, which even if never to be fulfilled in this world, nevertheless had raised me so much

the higher above the world, and made of me, in the depths of misery, inwardly a blest and sacred being. . . . Like lightning it flashed across me that the curtain must rise on wondrous happiness. You felt it too . . . my friend, if the curtain were to be raised in life, or only in death, what matter that it would be raised I knew. And so it came to pass that when my marvellous good fortune befell me, I was not afraid : I was already sure of it, but that it came so suddenly, just at that time and on that day, at that hour, filled me with

wonder.

[Since Wagner had seen the King, all had gone well with him; troubles that had appeared to be inextricable had vanished like smoke; he had settled his affairs at Penzing, and had brought away his servants and his faithful dog to the home prepared for him by god-like love." There he was to enjoy the marvellous happiness Providence owed, and had in store for him. That it would be lasting he could not doubt. Was not "its descent divine ?"] "In the year of the first performance of Tannhäuser (the work with which I began to tread my new and thorny path), in the month (August) in which I felt myself attuned to so prodigious a productive power that I commenced Lohengrin and the Meistersinger at the same time, a mother bore a guardian angel for me. At the time that I finished my Tristan at Lucerne, and having toiled inexpressibly for the possibility of establishing myself on German soil (Baden), and at last turned in despair toward Paris, there to wear myself

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