My Life, Richard Wagner [best books to read now .txt] 📗

friend Apel came to sun himself enthusiastically in the splendour of my musical directorship. He had written a drama, Columbus, which I recommended to our management for production. This was a peculiarly easy favour to win, as Apel volunteered to have a new scene, representing the Alhambra, painted at his own expense. Besides this, he proposed to effect many welcome improvements in the condition of the actors taking part in his play; for, owing to the continued preference displayed by the directress for Kneisel, the bass, they had all suffered very much from uncertainty about their wages. The piece itself appeared to me to contain much that was good. It described the difficulties and struggles of the great navigator before he set sail on his first voyage of discovery. The drama ended with the momentous departure of his ships from the harbour of Palos, an episode whose results are known to all the world. At my desire Apel submitted his play to my uncle Adolph, and even in his critical opinion it was remarkable for its lively and characteristic popular scenes. On the other hand, a love romance, which he had woven into the plot, struck me as unnecessary and dull. In addition to a brief chorus for some Moors who were expelled from Granada, to be sung on their departure from the familiar home country, and a short orchestral piece by way of conclusion, I also dashed off an overture for my friend's play. I sketched out the complete draft of this one evening at Minna's house, while Apel was left free to talk to her as much and as loudly as he liked. The effect this composition was calculated to produce rested on a fundamental idea which was quite simple, yet startling in its development. Unfortunately I worked it out rather hurriedly. In not very carefully chosen phrasing the orchestra was to represent the ocean, and, as far as might be, the ship upon it. A forcible, pathetically yearning and aspiring theme was the only comprehensible idea amid the swirl of enveloping sound. When the whole had been repeated, there was a sudden jump to a different theme in extreme pianissimo, accompanied by the swelling vibrations of the first violins, which was intended to represent a Fata Morgana. I had secured three pairs of trumpets in different keys, in order to produce this exquisite, gradually dawning and seductive theme with the utmost niceties of shade and variety of modulation. This was intended to represent the land of desire towards which the hero's eyes are turned, and whose shores seem continually to rise before him only to sink elusively beneath the waves, until at last they soar in very deed above the western horizon, the crown of all his toil and search, and stand clearly and unmistakably revealed to all the sailors, a vast continent of the future. My six trumpets were now to combine in one key, in order that the theme assigned to them might re-echo in glorious jubilation. Familiar as I was with the excellence of the Prussian regimental trumpeters, I could rely upon a startling effect, especially in this concluding passage. My overture astonished every one, and was tumultuously applauded. The play itself, however, was acted without dignity. A conceited comedian, named Ludwig Meyer, completely ruined the title part, for which he excused himself on the ground that, having to act as stage manager also, he had been unable to commit his lines to memory. Nevertheless, he managed to enrich his wardrobe with several splendid costumes at Apel's expense, wearing them, as Columbus, one after the other. At all events, Apel had lived to see a play of his own actually performed, and although this was never repeated, yet it afforded me an opportunity of increasing my personal popularity with the people of Magdeburg, as the overture was several times repeated at concerts by special request.

But the chief event of this theatrical season occurred towards its close. I induced Mme. Schroder-Devrient, who was staying in Leipzig, to come to us for a few special performances, when, on two occasions, I had the great satisfaction and stimulating experience of myself conducting the operas in which she sang, and thus entering into immediate artistic collaboration with her. She appeared as Desdemona and Romeo. In the latter role particularly she surpassed herself, and kindled a fresh flame in my breast. This visit brought us also into closer personal contact. So kindly disposed and sympathetic did she show herself towards me, that she even volunteered to lend me her services at a concert which I proposed to give for my own benefit, although this would necessitate her returning after a brief absence. Under circumstances so auspicious I could only expect the best possible results from my concert, and in my situation at that time its proceeds were a matter of vital importance to me. My scanty salary from the Magdeburg opera company had become altogether illusory, being paid only in small and irregular instalments, so that I could see but one way of meeting my daily expenses. These included frequent entertainment of a large circle of friends, consisting of singers and players, and the situation had become unpleasantly accentuated by no small number of debts. True, I did not know their exact amount; but reckoned that I could at least form an advantageous, if indefinite, estimate of the sum to be realized by my concert, whereby the two unknown quantities might balance each other. I therefore consoled my creditors with the tale of these fabulous receipts, which were to pay them all in full the day after the concert. I even went so far as to invite them to come and be paid at the hotel to which I had moved at the close of the season.

And, indeed, there was nothing unreasonable in my counting on the highest imaginable receipts, when supported by so great and popular a singer, who, moreover, was returning to Magdeburg on purpose for the event. I consequently acted with reckless prodigality as regards cost, launching out into all manner of musical extravagance, such as engaging an excellent and much larger orchestra, and arranging many rehearsals. Unfortunately for me, however, nobody would believe that such a famous actress, whose time was so precious, would really return again to please a little Magdeburg conductor. My pompous announcement of her appearance was almost universally regarded as a deceitful manoeuvre, and people took offence at the high prices charged for seats. The result was that the hall was only very scantily filled, a fact which particularly grieved me on account of my generous patroness. Her promise I had never doubted. Punctually on the day appointed she reappeared to support me, and now had the painful and unaccustomed experience of performing before a small audience. Fortunately, she treated the matter with great good-humour (which, I learned later, was prompted by other motives, not personally concerning me). Among several pieces she sang Beethoven's Adelaide most exquisitely, wherein, to my own astonishment, I accompanied her on the piano. But, alas! another and more unexpected mishap befell my concert, through our unfortunate selection of pieces. Owing to the excessive reverberation of the saloon in the Hotel 'The City of London,' the noise was unbearable. My Columbus Overture, with its six trumpets, had early in the evening filled the audience with terror; and now, at the end, came Beethoven's Schlacht bei Vittoria, for which, in enthusiastic expectation of limitless receipts, I had provided every imaginable orchestral luxury. The firing of cannon and musketry was organised with the utmost elaboration, on both the French and English sides, by means of specially constructed and costly apparatus; while trumpets and bugles had been doubled and trebled. Then began a battle, such as has seldom been more cruelly fought in a concert-room. The orchestra flung itself, so to speak, upon the scanty audience with such an overwhelming superiority of numbers that the latter speedily gave up all thought of resistance and literally took to flight. Mme. Schroder-Devrient had kindly taken a front seat, that she might hear the concert to an end. Much as she may have been inured to terrors of this kind, this was more than she could stand, even out of friendship for me. When, therefore, the English made a fresh desperate assault upon the French position, she took to flight, almost wringing her hands. Her action became the signal for a panic-stricken stampede. Every one rushed out; and Wellington's victory was finally celebrated in a confidential outburst between myself and the orchestra alone. Thus ended this wonderful musical festival. Schroder-Devrient at once departed, deeply regretting the ill-success of her well-meant effort, and kindly left me to my fate. After seeking comfort in the arms of my sorrowing sweetheart, and attempting to nerve myself for the morrow's battle, which did not seem likely to end in a victorious symphony, I returned next morning to the hotel. I found I could only reach my rooms by running the gauntlet between long rows of men and women in double file, who had all been specially invited thither for the settlement of their respective affairs. Reserving the right to select individuals from among my visitors for separate interview, I first of all led in the second trumpeter of the orchestra, whose duty it had been to look after the cash and the music. From his account I learned that, owing to the high fees which, in my generous enthusiasm, I had promised to the orchestra, a few more shillings and sixpences would still have to come out of my own pocket to meet these charges alone. When this was settled, the position of affairs was plain. The next person I invited to come in was Mme. Gottschalk, a trustworthy Jewess, with whom I wanted to come to some arrangement respecting the present crisis. She perceived at once that more than ordinary help was required in this case, but did not doubt that I should be able to obtain it from my opulent connections in Leipzig. She undertook, therefore, to appease the other creditors with tranquillising assurances, and railed, or pretended to rail, against their indecent conduct with great vigour. Thus at last we succeeded, though not without some difficulty, in making the corridor outside my door once more passable.

The theatrical season was now over, our company on the point of dissolution, and I myself free from my appointment. But meanwhile the unhappy director of our theatre had passed from a state of chronic to one of acute bankruptcy. He paid with paper money, that is to say, with whole sheets of box-tickets for performances which he guaranteed should take place. By dint of great craft Minna managed to extract some profit even from these singular treasury-bonds. She was living at this time most frugally and economically. Moreover, as the dramatic company still continued its efforts on behalf of its members--only the opera troupe having been dissolved--she remained at the theatre. Thus, when I started out on my compulsory return to Leipzig, she saw me off with hearty good-wishes for our speedy reunion, promising to spend the next holidays in visiting her parents in Dresden, on which occasion she hoped also to look me up in Leipzig.

Thus it came about that early in May I once more went home to my own folk, in order that after this abortive first attempt at civic independence, I might finally lift the load of debt with which my efforts in Magdeburg had burdened me. An intelligent brown poodle faithfully accompanied me, and was entrusted to my family for food and entertainment as the only visible property I had acquired. Nevertheless, my mother and Rosalie succeeded in founding good hopes for my future career upon the bare fact of my being able to conduct an orchestra. To me, on the other hand, the thought of returning once more to my former life with my