And now, under the guidance of a monarch to whom Wagner's art was almost the inspiration of life, Munich, which in 1858 had rejected "Der Fliegende Holländer" as unsuitable to the German stage, was about to produce "Tristan und Isolde," the supreme essence of Wagner's matured genius. In April, 1865, the composer wrote a general letter inviting his friends everywhere to go to Munich and attend this first of all Wagner festivals, three performances of a work already eight years old, set down for May 15, 18, and 22. But postponements took place, and the work was not produced until June 10. It was repeated on June 13 and 19 and July 1. Each performance was attended by a large audience, and the applause was of the most vigorous kind. Much of the success was due to the superb conducting of Von Bülow, whom Wagner called his second self, and the inspired interpretation of Tristan by Ludwig Schnorr. Wagner declared that his ideal was fully realised by this great artist, and he bemoaned Schnorr's subsequent untimely death as the greatest possible loss to him and his work.[25] The composer's essay on this singer is a most eloquent tribute from a creative to an interpretative artist, and throw invaluable light on Wagner's theories of performance in general and the presentation of "Tristan und Isolde" in particular.

It may easily be understood that this was a period of unalloyed happiness for Wagner. His highest dreams were being realised, and he was working out his artistic purposes with a free hand. But such an Elysium could not last. His enemies were striving against him with might and main. The newspapers were used unscrupulously to spread all kinds of damaging reports. It was said that he was endeavouring to substitute art for religion in the State, that he was leading the young King into reckless extravagances which threatened the stability of the national treasury. The King was, indeed, considering the plan to build a special theatre for the production of the Nibelung dramas. Such a theatre was subsequently built at Bayreuth, and Munich might have had the honour and the profit which have since accrued to that little city, had it not been for the determined opposition of narrow-minded intriguers.[26]

The story was published that the new theatre was to cost millions. Other equally wild assertions were made. The people became aroused, and finally police and court officials represented to the King that Wagner's life was in danger. The composer had already answered in a calm and dignified letter the various newspaper calumnies, but that availed him nothing. The King besought him to leave Munich, in order that public confidence might be restored. And accordingly, after a stay of a year and a half in the city, he departed in December, 1865, to his favourite refuge, Switzerland. He made a short stay at Vevay and Geneva, and then in February, 1866, settled at Triebschen, near Lucerne, where he remained, with little interruption, till he removed to Bayreuth in 1872. Most of the frantic opposition to the royal support of Wagner appeared to have arisen from the project of bringing to ideal production the Nibelung cycle, and so this was for the time abandoned. As Wagner himself tells us, in his "Final Report" on the preparation of these dramas (Ellis's translation, Vol. V., p. 310):

It may not be out of place to add here that calumny pursued him after his retirement from Munich, and one of the most interesting stories was that he had left his wife to starve. To this falsehood the unhappy Minna replied with great dignity and a touch of pathos in a statement published in January, 1866, a fortnight before her death. She said:

This statement is indisputable evidence that there was no harsh feeling in the heart of the wife who had parted from him.

Mme. von Bülow with her children joined Wagner at Triebschen, while Hans was obliged to go to Basle to teach. In his place he left Hans Richter, who thus became intimately associated with the creative work of Wagner. The separation between Von Bülow and his wife proved to be final, and the daughter of Liszt imitated her illustrious father by recognising the supremacy of the claims of love over all other obligations. In 1866 the public feeling against Wagner had somewhat declined, and the King decided to have model performances of "Tannhäuser" and "Lohengrin" at Munich. Von Bülow was made Kapellmeister and devoted himself, heart and soul, to the preparations for these performances. In March, 1867, Wagner went to Munich to supervise some of the rehearsals, and again he visited the capital in May for the same purpose. A general rehearsal took place on June 11th, and everything went to the satisfaction of the master.

To his intense surprise, the next day the King sent away Tichatschek and Mme. Bertram-Mayer, who had been especially engaged, and announced that their places would be taken by Heinrich Vogl and Therese Thoma, afterward his wife. This was the result of a new intrigue against Wagner, and he, despairing of a perfect performance in these conditions, at once left the city. The first of these "model" performances took place on June 16 and was successful in spite of the sudden changes. But it was not what Wagner would have called an ideal performance, and some of the customary cuts were made. Despite the continued opposition to Wagner the King retained his love for the "music of the future," and he determined that "Die Meistersinger" should be produced in the year 1868. Public feeling against Wagner still further diminished, and he was able to visit Munich frequently to superintend the rehearsals, which were under the direction of Von Bülow as conductor and Richter as chorus master. The best obtainable artists in Germany were secured, and no pains were spared in the preparation of the troublesome but essential details of nuance and stage business. On June 21, 1868, the opera was produced, and its success was most decided.

And now Wagner returned to his magnum opus, "Der Ring des Nibelungen." But the King could not wait. He was eager to hear at least a part of it, and so he gave orders that "Das Rheingold" should be prepared. Again there were troubles of all kinds. The composer's directions were so inadequately followed that the machinery for the first scene was almost worthless. Richter, who had succeeded Von Bülow as Kapellmeister, was so displeased with the preparations that he refused to conduct, and finally Franz Wüllner was secured in his place. After several postponements the work was produced in a bungling style on Sept. 22, 1869. Wagner made a feeble effort to save the performance from disaster, but the result was practically a fiasco. The King, however, was bound to hear more of the trilogy, and accordingly, on June 26, 1870, "Die Walküre" was performed, the Vogls appearing as the lovers. The audience was somewhat better pleased with this work than with the "Rheingold," but the production could not be called a success. These performances were premature, and they may be said to have flashed in the pan.

It was at this period that an event occurred which Wagner's friends had for some time expected. The marriage of Cosima Liszt and Hans von Bülow had not been happy, and the estrangement between them was accelerated by the woman's quick conception of a passion for Wagner. When Von Bülow went to Basle to teach, the beginning of the end had come, and it was not long after that when the relations between Wagner and Mme. von Bülow could no longer be kept secret. "If it were only someone whom I could kill," said Von Bülow, "he would have been dead before this." The great conductor could not think of slaying the great master. In the autumn of 1869 the Von Bülows were divorced. In July, 1870 Wagner wrote to Praeger:

A little later Praeger received the wedding cards announcing that they had been married on Aug. 25 at the Protestant Church of Lucerne. The attitude of Liszt toward this union may be understood from Wagner's statement that he was more annoyed by his daughter's change of religion than by her divorce. That the divorce and the marriage had to come about, however, may be inferred from the fact that in the summer of 1869 Mme. von Bülow had borne to Wagner a son.[27] The existence of this child was first definitely mentioned by Wagner in a letter to the Zurich friend, Mme. Wille, dated June 25, 1870, accepting an invitation to visit her, but deferring the date till he and Mme. von Bülow could go as man and wife. In November of the same year Wagner wrote to Praeger, and closed the letter with these words:

Cosima Wagner was twenty-nine years old at the time of her marriage to the composer. Many foolish stories have been told of her coming between him and his first wife. The reader of this volume can see for himself that there is not the slightest foundation for these tales. The facts of the divorce and marriage may be permitted to stand without comment. But it should be said that Cosima Wagner gave to her husband a loyalty, a devotion, and a sympathetic comprehension which made him a wholly happy man in his domestic life. In 1871 Wagner composed, in honour of the child and to celebrate his wife's birthday, the popular "Siegfried Idyll." Richter gathered the necessary musicians at Lucerne and rehearsed the piece, and at the proper time performed it on the stairs of the villa at Triebschen, to the surprise and joy of Mme. Wagner. The leading themes of the composition are taken from "Siegfried" and are combined with an old German cradle-song.

In 1870 Wagner published two important prose works, "On Conducting" and "Beethoven." The former arraigns the mechanical Kapellmeisters of Germany in good round terms, and sets forth Wagner's ideas as to the proper manner of directing the performance of the classic orchestral works. It is an eloquent and instructive little book, and should be read by all music-lovers. The study of Beethoven is less clear in style and dips into metaphysical discussion, but it contains artistic views of high dignity. In 1871 the composer wrote the familiar "Kaisermarsch," intending it as a musical celebration of Germany's triumph in the conflict with France. It may be noted that the Emperor accorded to this attention the very scantest courtesy. We have now reached the period when Wagner left Munich for Bayreuth. The time was approaching when the great Nibelung drama must be launched in its entirety. The plan to build a theatre for it in Munich had, as we have seen, fallen through. A new site had to be found and new plans to be adopted for bringing to a successful issue the most formidable theatrical project of the century.

CHAPTER XIII
FINIS CORONAT OPUS

It was in April, 1872, that Wagner went to Bayreuth to live. He at first occupied rooms in the small hotel belonging to the Castle Fantaisie, in the village of Donndorf, an hour's ride from Bayreuth. Subsequently he moved into hired apartments in the town. Meanwhile a new home for him was in process of erection, and in 1874 he and his family took possession of the Villa Wahnfried, where his widow and children still live. This house was built in accordance with Wagner's own ideas, and in it at last he found that domestic peace and comfort for which he had longed through so many years of struggle. But the theatre and the performance of the Nibelung drama were still at a distance. Work on the "Festspielhaus," as it is called, was in progress, but the difficulties in the way of its completion seemed well-nigh insuperable. Money, money, was still the cry. The history of the inception and progress of the Bayreuth project might well be told at great length, but it must be narrated as briefly as possible.

Why had Wagner selected Bayreuth as the scene of the crowning labour of his career? Other cities in Germany had offered him inducements, but they were precisely the sort of inducements that a man of Wagner's artistic ideas could not appreciate. He could have gone to cities in which he would have had ready-made publics in the shape of summer tourists in large numbers, but such publics he did not desire. He wished to bring to the performance of his magnum opus an assembly gathered for no other object. He desired the representations to take place where they alone would be the moving thought in the public mind. People must go to Bayreuth solely to attend the Wagner performances, and thus the audience would come into the theatre in the right mood. Again, Bayreuth was in Bavaria, and Wagner wished to carry out in the dominion of his royal friend the great project of his life.

But how was the necessary money to be raised? Performances of the older works brought in but little, and concerts were expensive. At this juncture Carl Tausig, the young pianist, conceived a plan, which he elaborated with the aid of the Baroness Marie von Schleinitz. It was estimated that the entire expense of preparing and performing "Der Ring des Nibelungen" would amount to about 300,000 thalers, or $225,000. The plan was to sell 1000 certificates of membership among the supporters of Wagner's ideas. The holder of one certificate was to be entitled to a seat at each of the three series of performances. Any person could buy several certificates, and three might unite in the purchase of one, each of the three thus attending one series. Tausig had other ideas in his head for the assistance of Wagner, but he was suddenly carried away by typhoid fever at the age of thirty.

Meanwhile Emil Heckel, a music publisher of Mannheim, had proposed the formation of Wagner societies, and had organised one in Mannheim, in June, 1871. Heckel's scheme was a sort of lottery, each member paying five florins and being entitled to one chance in a patron's certificate, one of which was bought for each thirty-five members. The society was also to give concerts and to use the proceeds in the purchase of certificates. The Wagner society plan spread, and organisations of this kind were formed in leading cities in Europe and America. Wagner busied himself conducting concerts and pushing the production of his works, but the raising of the funds proceeded very slowly. Nevertheless, on May 22, 1872, Wagner's fifty-ninth birthday, the corner-stone of the new theatre was laid with appropriate ceremonies. Burgomaster Muncker, from whose Life of Wagner quotations have been made, and Frederick Feustel, a banker, had, as the heads of a committee of the citizens, presented to Wagner a site for the edifice. Niemann, Betz, Fräulein Lehmann, and Frau Jachmann (née Wagner) had volunteered to sing. Vocal societies from Leipsic and Berlin, and orchestral players from Vienna, Leipsic, Weimar, and other cities had offered their services. And so Wagner was able to prepare one of those ideal performances of Beethoven's Ninth Symphony in which he delighted. The concert took place in the old opera house of Bayreuth, and was followed by the laying of the corner-stone. The band played the "Huldigungsmarsch," while Wagner struck the stone three times with a hammer, and said, "Bless this stone! May it stand long and hold firmly." King Ludwig telegraphed his congratulations. Rain fell, and the assembly returned to the old theatre to complete the ceremony. Musicians and singers, the Wagner family, the composer, the burgomaster, and others were grouped on the stage. The burgomaster delivered an address of welcome, and then Wagner read a fervent speech. At the close of it he raised his hands and the chorus burst into the chorale from the last scene of "Die Meistersinger."

The air was full of hope, yet in January, 1874, Wagner had to tell Heckel that he was about to announce to the public the complete collapse of the Bayreuth scheme. The money could not be raised. Once more King Ludwig came to the rescue, with a contribution of 200,000 marks. The Viceroy of Egypt gave $2,500, and 404 patron's certificates had been sold by July, 1875. So Wagner, although he foresaw a heavy deficit, announced that the performances would take place in the summer of 1876.

Meanwhile he travelled about, giving concerts and supervising performances of his older works, and adding here a little and there a little to the sum needed for carrying out his plans. Through Theodore Thomas he at this time received $5000 for the composition of the "Centennial March," written for the opening of the Centennial Exposition at Philadelphia. This is Wagner's poorest music, but he must have been very glad to get the money, and we Americans can revel in the trilogy and forget the march.

At length, in August of 1876, the long-awaited event took place, and the little town of Bayreuth awoke one morning, Byron-like, to find itself famous. The Emperors of Germany and Brazil, the King of Bavaria, the Grand Dukes of Weimar, Baden, and Mecklenburg, Prince Vladimir of Russia, and the Prince of Hesse; eminent musicians headed by Franz Liszt, Camille Saint-Säens, and Edward Grieg; critics from all countries, and supporters of Wagner from all over Europe and even from America, crowded into the town to hear this new thing in operatic art, this "music of the future." The enemy, too, was well represented, and the glitter of the critical axe was seen among the flaunting banners. The Emperor of Germany arrived on August 12th, and was received with due ceremony. He stayed for only two of the first series of performances, but Mr. Finck has clearly proved that he went to Bayreuth with that intention, and was not driven away by the music as some of Wagner's opponents have asserted.

The first performance took place on August 13. It was to begin at 5 P.M., but was postponed till 7, because the Emperor of Brazil could not reach the city in time for the earlier hour. An audience of wonderful composition assembled in the theatre, after the trumpeters had blown a motive from the last scene to announce that the performance was about to begin. The first impression of wonder was created by the darkening of the auditorium, it being part of Wagner's plan that the attention of the audience should thus be centred on the stage. Then came the surprising effect of the concealed orchestra, playing down in its pit between the stage and the audience, the pit fancifully christened the "Mystic Gulf." Such a rich, homogeneous instrumental tone was new to all the hearers. The curtain rose, and the depths of the Rhine were revealed. The audience entered a new world of operatic experience. The performance moved smoothly, except that some of the stage mechanism was defective. Indeed, the hitch in the passage from Scene I. to Scene II. drove Wagner out of the theatre. After the performance there were tumultuous calls for Wagner and the artists, but no one responded.

On the following night "Die Walküre" was given, but owing to the indisposition of Unger, the leading tenor, "Siegfried" had to be postponed till August 16. "Götterdämmerung" was performed on August 17. The third and fourth works of the series were on these dates heard in public for the first time. After "Götterdämmerung" the audience again called for the composer and the performers, and now Wagner appeared and made a brief speech of thanks and promise for the future. The curtains were drawn aside and all the artists were seen. When the three series of performances had been completed there was a banquet, at which Wagner further explained his hopes for the coming years, and at which he paid a warm tribute of gratitude to his first friend and helper, Liszt.

Thus was finally brought to representation the great tetralogy, on which Wagner had worked more than a quarter of a century, and which was, without doubt, the chief labour of his life. From 1848 his mind had been filled with the story of "Siegfried." He had laid it aside from time to time to produce other works, but it had been the chief aim of his existence. Early in his labours on it he had discovered that the narration would require the building of a tetralogy, and he had also foreseen that a special theatre must be built. No playwright or composer had ever before entertained such a project, and now at last it was accomplished. The critics departed in a state of confusion, as well they might, having been called upon to face an art utterly unknown, and brought before them in a condition of complete development. That their comments showed an almost total failure to understand what Wagner had attempted was natural. If they had understood him, they would have been men of genius themselves. Some men of genius did understand him, and that was his highest reward. The musical world was rent asunder with arguments for and against the new art, but Wagner had at least lived to see one dream of his life realised.

Some description of the Festspielhaus must be included at this point. The theatre occupies an isolated position on a slight eminence about fifteen minutes' walk from the town. The portion containing the auditorium is small, and about half as high as that containing the stage. Two stages, one above the other, are used, so that while one scene is before the audience the other is preparing in the cellar. This device was made known to New Yorkers in the Madison Square Theatre, where the famous double stage of Steele Mackaye was for a time the talk of the town. Wagner's plan was older than Mr. Mackaye's. The Festspielhaus proscenium is extremely plain, and is so contrived that it creates an illusion as to the distance between the audience and the stage. No prompter's box and no footlights are visible to the spectators. In front of the stage and running partly under it is the pit for the orchestra, so arranged that the musicians are wholly unseen by the audience, and the conductor is visible only to the singers.

The auditorium itself is small and rigorously plain. The parquet seats 1300 persons. Above the last row of seats, and extending all the way across the rear of the auditorium, is a gallery, containing nine boxes for the use of titled visitors. Above this gallery is a second one containing 200 seats. The seating capacity of the entire theatre is about 1500. The parquet seats are arranged in easy curves, so that every person faces the stage and has a perfect view. There are no side seats and no proscenium boxes. The sides of the auditorium are finished with Renaissance columns; and sixteen wide passages, eight on each side, give easy egress from the house. There are no chandeliers. The lighting outfit of the auditorium is just sufficient to enable the audience to find its way about. While the performance is going on, all lights in front of the stage are extinguished. The entire aim of the plan of this house is to remove everything which can suggest the conventional theatre, and to concentrate the attention of the audience on the stage.

Wagner's principal assistant in the building of this theatre was Karl Brandt, of Darmstadt, with whom he consulted in regard to everything. The architect, engaged on Brandt's advice, was Otto Bruckwald, of Leipsic. The scenery for the Ring dramas was designed by Prof. Joseph Hoffmann, of Vienna, and painted by the Brothers Brückner, of Coburg. These are the men to whom Wagner expressed himself as especially indebted for aid in carrying out his ideas. Of the performers engaged in this remarkable undertaking mention will be made in the study of the dramas, which will form a separate part of this work.

The first Bayreuth festival resulted in a deficit of $37,000. And so Wagner, with the artistic dream of his life realised, found himself once more the victim of monetary embarrassments. He went into Italy for a little rest, and was received with distinction in several cities. The violinist Wilhelmj, who had been concertmaster of the festival orchestra, suggested that a series of concerts in London would go far toward raising the money needed to meet the deficit. Several of the Bayreuth singers were secured, and the concerts were announced for May 7 to 19, 1877. Wagner conducted one half of each concert and Richter the other half. This was the beginning of Richter's great vogue as a conductor in London. The concerts were a failure, and two supplementary entertainments at popular prices were given in order to help the situation. But Wagner left London with his affairs still in a bad condition. The London visit was notable for the fact that on May 17 he read the poem of his new drama, "Parsifal," to a circle of friends at the house of Edward Dannreuther. He read the same work to German friends at Heidelberg on July 8, while on his way back to Bayreuth.

The financial difficulties were finally solved by the disposal to Munich of the rights of performance of the "Ring." Wagner had said that the work really belonged to the King, who had agreed to pay him a pension on condition that he should complete and produce the work. The Intendant of the Munich Opera House saw in the deficit at Bayreuth his opportunity to acquire the right to perform the work. He agreed to pay the deficit provided the royal right to "Der Ring" be enforced for the benefit of the Munich theatre. Wagner was obliged to accept this solution of his difficulties, and thus Bayreuth lost the sole right to the tetralogy. The dramas of the "Ring" now began to be played separately, much to Wagner's displeasure, but they grew in popularity, and the royalties were good to have. Angelo Neumann organised his travelling Nibelung Theatre, with several of the Bayreuth artists and Anton Seidl as conductor, and gave complete performances, except for cuts authorised by Wagner, in many cities of Germany and Italy. Meanwhile Wagner was engaged in completing what was to be his last work. He had conceived it in 1865, but had found no opportunity to do more than write the book. His health was not of the best, and he was eager to retire to the seclusion of Wahnfried and finish his drama. The settlement of the pecuniary troubles arising from the first festival enabled him to carry out his project. He was to write one more work, filled with ecstatic piety, and then go to his rest.

CHAPTER XIV
THE LAST DRAMA

In the fall of 1877 Wagner's mind was occupied with a plan to found at Bayreuth a music school similar in plan to that which he had once hoped to have in Munich. Delegates from the Wagner societies were invited to the city to consider the project, but they, alarmed by the large deficit remaining from the festival of 1876, declined to further the scheme. At this gathering of delegates the various societies were reorganised into one general association, having its headquarters at Bayreuth; and that the members and the other sympathisers with his aims might have some definite object before them, Wagner announced that subscriptions would apply to the production of his new work, "Parsifal." It was at this time his purpose to produce this drama in 1880, but various causes, including poor health, combined to prevent the fulfilment of this intention. Naturally the lack of funds was a prime cause for the postponement. Wagner announced the change of date in a communication to his subscribers, dated Bayreuth, July 15, 1879.

Meanwhile a new medium of making known his plans and ideas had been found. In January, 1878, appeared the first number of a monthly periodical called the Bayreuther Blätter, edited by Hans von Wolzogen, who is now known to all students of Wagner's scores as the author of handbooks explaining the leading motives of the music. Wagner himself was an active contributor to this journal, and wrote some of his most interesting papers for it. Meanwhile he worked assiduously at the music of "Parsifal." That he did not finish it till the beginning of 1882 was due to a variety of causes, among which was a fresh outbreak of his old enemy, erysipelas. This sent him, in the last days of 1879, into southern Italy in search of relief. He was not in a sanguine temper at this time, and he wrote for the opening of 1880 a querulous article, showing that he still felt the hostility of criticism and the inability of the public to comprehend his artistic purposes. He said:

To the casual observer Wagner at this period probably seemed to have reason to be well pleased with his life. He was rid of the burden of the deficit remaining after the "Ring" performances, he had a beautiful home, a devoted wife, and was surrounded by friends who gave him that ceaseless praise for which his heart ever hungered. But Wagner could not forgive the world for not taking him at his own valuation. He resented Germany's reluctance to accept the new gospel of art which he preached. Nevertheless he laboured away at the score of "Parsifal," drifting off into that religious mysticism which has affected so many composers in their old age, and at the same time realising that now at last he was writing something which would not be practicable outside of the secluded auditorium of Bayreuth. Fragments of the work were scored from time to time, and at the Wahnfried Christmas festival of 1878 the prelude was performed by the Meiningen Court Orchestra. But it was not till after the trip to Italy that he was ready to begin active preparations for the performance of the drama. The piano rehearsals were begun in August, 1881. But in the winter of 1881-82 bad health again sent Wagner south, and he completed his score in January in Palermo.

He returned to Bayreuth in May. The subscriptions for the "Parsifal" production arrived very slowly, and at the close of 1881 the amount subscribed was still lamentably small, but once more King Ludwig came to the rescue. He offered Wagner the use of the forces of the Munich Opera House, in return for which that theatre acquired the exclusive right to the performance of "Die Feen." Nevertheless in the end Wagner was compelled, in order to meet all expenses, to abandon his plan of giving the performances for his subscribers alone. The first two performances were exclusive, but the general public was admitted to the others with the happiest results.

The final rehearsals began with July, 1882, and the first performance was given on July 26. Fifteen other performances were given, the last on Aug. 29. The production engaged the services of a number of the best singers in Germany, many distinguished principals consenting to take small parts. The scenery and stage effects again commanded high praise, and Wagner's skill as a designer of stage pictures was conceded even by those who refused to allow him genius as a dramatist. Again, too, there was an unfortunate hitch in the mechanical devices. The panorama in the first act, showing the country through which Gurnemanz and Parsifal pass on their way to the castle of Monsalvat, was mistakenly constructed to move half as fast as it should have moved, and as there was not time after the discovery of the error to rectify it, Wagner had to have the music of the scene played through twice. But the solemn drama created a profound impression, and many of the critics who had found little to please them in the "Ring" admitted that "Parsifal" exercised a potent spell on their minds.

The exertions necessary for the production of "Parsifal" had told severely on Wagner. It is said that at one rehearsal he fainted, and, on recovering, exclaimed, "Once more I have beaten Death." Dr. Standthartner, one of his firm Viennese friends, examined him in the course of the summer, and found that a heart affection, from which the composer had long been suffering, had made dangerous progress. Wagner was not told of his exact condition, but he was warned that immediate rest and relief from care was absolutely essential. He was a man of sixty-nine and he had done an enormous amount of work. Furthermore he had taxed the resources of his system by indulgence in passionate moods, which were naturally followed by periods of intense depression.

After the "Parsifal" performance he went with his family to Venice, where he took up his residence in the Vendramin Palace on the Grand Canal. The household consisted of Wagner, his wife, Siegfried, the Count Gravina and his wife (daughter of Von Bülow), her sisters, Liszt, and the Russian painter Joukowsky, who had designed the scenery of "Parsifal." Perl[28] gives a most interesting account of the domestic life of the family in the last days of the master's life. He lived in the greatest seclusion, receiving no visitors and making almost no calls. He arose early and occupied himself with writing, no one being allowed to disturb him while so engaged. The products of his pen were chiefly articles for the Bayreuther Blätter. About noon his wife joined him and gave him the substance of the morning's mail, sedulously concealing anything which might excite him. In the afternoon, after a nap, he went out with his family, if the weather was pleasant, in a gondola, and frequently made excursions of some length. In the evening the old palace (it was built in 1481) was brilliantly lighted up, and Wagner listened to one of his family reading aloud.

Liszt arrived in the middle of November, and Wagner began to be reminiscent. He suddenly remembered his juvenile symphony, and decided that on Christmas, 1882, it should be performed, not as a Christmas festivity, but in honour of his wife, whose birthday was Dec. 25. The concert-room and orchestra of the Liceo Benedetto Marcello were lent to him for the purpose, and he rehearsed the composition himself with the greatest ardour. Wagner afterward wrote a report on the performance of this youthful work, which he said went extremely well, owing to the natural disposition of the Italian musicians for tone and phrasing, and also owing to the large number of rehearsals which he was able to have. The symphony, too, "really seemed to please," and some Italian critics spoke well of it. Wagner himself did not overrate his boyish composition, but its revival was a pleasant occasion. At the end of the performance Wagner laid down the bâton and declared that he would never conduct again. He had felt the strain of the physical effort. But his words, read in the light of subsequent events, acquired that appearance of prophecy which men's latest utterances so often gain from their propinquity to the end.

Dyspepsia had tortured him for years, and the irregularities of digestion had finally developed the heart affection, before mentioned, to a serious condition. Wagner was attended in Venice by Friedrich Keppler, but he disobeyed the physician's directions constantly. He was especially careless about exertion, and was not wholly observant of the necessary caution in the matter of eating. He fell faint several times in the course of the winter, but always strove to conceal the fact from his family. After Liszt's departure on Jan. 13 he became even more careless, and entered with great avidity into the preparations for the Bayreuth festival of the following summer. On Feb. 13, 1883, he rested till late. At noon he called the maid, who sat outside his room, and ordered a light luncheon. It was his intention to go out in his gondola at four. Soon after the luncheon had been brought the maid heard Wagner call for her in a faint voice, and running into the room found him in agony. "Call my wife and the doctor," he said. The wife reached his side in time to witness his last struggle. When the doctor arrived he was dead.

King Ludwig sent Adolf Gross, a Bayreuth banker, who had long been an ardent supporter of Wagner, to Venice as his representative. Venice offered a public funeral, but the widow declined it. Silently through the canals on Feb. 16 went a draped gondola with the body. A special mourning car carried the remains to Bayreuth. That city had indeed been stricken in the loss of him who had made it famous. At the railway station on the arrival of the funeral train a public ceremony took place. After Siegfried's funeral march had been played Burgomaster Muncker and Banker Feustel spoke. The Bayreuth Liederkranz sang the chorus arranged by Wagner for the burial of Weber in Dresden. The funeral procession then moved to Wahnfried, where the remains of the poet-composer were interred.

Feustel had said in his speech at the station that Bayreuth's most dignified tribute to the memory of the dead master would be the "Parsifal" performances in the coming summer. These were given, but without the presence of the widow. She secluded herself even from Liszt, her father. But the following year she took up the task of continuing the festivals, which have lately reflected her ideas as to the proper method of interpreting her husband's masterpieces.

What embryonic works Wagner left is not known. He had written an extensive autobiography, but his family has not yet seen fit to publish it. Probably it will not see the light till Cosima is laid beside him in the garden of Wahnfried. The rumour that he left sketches for a drama on a Buddhistic subject rests on slight foundation. The materials for this drama, "The Victors," were absorbed in the plan of "Parsifal." He left some minor prose writings which are included in the ten volumes of his works and which may be found by the reader of English in the last volume of Mr. Ellis's translation. Gross, the Bayreuth banker, guaranteed the "Parsifal" performances of 1883, and superintended the settlement of the dead man's financial affairs. The consolidation of all the Wagner societies continued the work of supporting the festivals till their aid was no longer needed. In later years the receipts from the festivals and the royalties from the numerous performances of Wagner's works have enabled his family to live in luxury. Siegfried Wagner has become a musician and a composer. He shows no evidence of inheriting his father's genius, but he works assiduously and with effect in preparing performances at Bayreuth, which, in spite of many changes, continues to be the Mecca of all worshippers of Wagner's genius.

CHAPTER XV
THE CHARACTER OF THE MAN

"The noble and kindly man as his friends knew him, and the aggressive critic and reformer addressing the public, were as two distinct individuals." These words of Edward Dannreuther are the explanation of the many contradictory reports as to the personality of Wagner. Those to whom he opened his inner self, to whom he addressed his feelings and his hopes, who, in a word, understood him as both man and artist, were united in praise of his personality. Liszt, Praeger, Uhlig, Roeckel, Fischer, Von Bülow, Judith Gautier, Baudelaire, Frau Wille—all the company of Wagner's friends and helpers loved his nature and found in him none of that arrogance, that intolerance, that insufferable conceit, which the unsympathetic outer world condemned. With his friends, who understood the purpose of his life and the aims of his ambition, he was generally in a state of spiritual relaxation, and was simply himself. With those who failed to understand him, and with all those whom he recognised as enemies of his artistic ideas, he never relaxed the spirit of determined opposition to indolent and slothful conceptions of life and art; and with them he was consequently always in a mood of hostility. To such he was rude, discourteous, and intolerant. His nature was irritable, and even his friends had to endure curt and hasty speech at times. To his enemies he was never polite, except occasionally in written communication. He was not a politic man, for he was too nervous in habit and too impulsive in utterance. He possessed the gentle art of making enemies as few other men could, yet he was highly successful in gaining friends, and those whom he got he kept. His early Dresden friends were always his friends. The Zurich coterie adored him to the end. Those who were intimately associated with him in Bayreuth loved and reverenced him. Muncker, the burgomaster of Bayreuth, whose book was translated into curious English by another German,[29] could write thus of him:

The testimony of others who knew Wagner longer and more intimately than Muncker is in a similar vein. It is difficult in the face of such evidence to accept the assertions of those contemporaries who saw in him only the narrowest and most selfish egotism. That he had serious faults and many foibles goes without saying. That he was an agreeable companion to any one not absorbed in his artistic ideas cannot be believed. Geniuses, self-centred as they must be, devoured day and night by passionate yearning for the attainment of ideal ends, are not often pleasant acquaintances. Wagner did not differ from other great men. People who were uncongenial to him have said that he was invariably rude and overbearing. Edward Dannreuther, who was his friend, says: "He had no pronounced manners in the sense of anything that can be taught or acquired by imitation. Always unconventional, his demeanour showed great refinement. His habits in private life are best described as those of a gentleman. He liked domestic comforts, had an artist's fondness for rich color, harmonious decoration, out-of-the-way furniture, well-bound books and music, etc."

And here we come upon one of the traits of this singular man, which has properly given rise to the largest amount of derogatory comment. He certainly had luxurious tastes, and he never resisted the temptation to gratify them even when he could not afford to do so. He loved fine surroundings. He was fond of rich garments, especially for indoor wear during his working hours. In later years, when his worldly position had improved somewhat, he employed an expensive Viennese dressmaker to make the silken robes which he wore in the house. He sent her the most elaborate designs for his dressing-gowns, which he seems to have planned with fastidious care. He paid her absurd prices for his robes. This was only one form of Wagner's extravagance. He wore silk underwear at all times, and Praeger endeavours to show that he was forced to do this in order to diminish as far as possible the irritability of his skin caused by the erysipelas, of which he was a lifelong victim. Wagner himself realised that his habits were luxurious, but he held that luxury was a necessity to him. He knew that he would be blamed for taking this position, and in a letter of 1854 to Liszt he wrote:

"How can I expect a Philistine to comprehend the transcendent part of my nature, which in the conditions of my life impelled me to satisfy an immense inner desire by such external means as must to him appear dangerous and certainly unsympathetic? No one knows the needs of people like us. I am myself frequently surprised at considering so many 'useless' things indispensable." Later in the same year he wrote a letter in which he shows plainly how his craving for luxurious surroundings as an aid to work affected his financial affairs. He said: