My Life by Richard Wagner (feel good fiction books txt) 📖

too put in an appearance, principally in search of a good officer--who was not, however, forthcoming. The commandant of a large contingent from the Vogtland, an oldish man, raised Bakunin's hopes by the impassioned energy of his speeches, and he would have had him appointed commandant-general on the spot. But it seemed as if any real decision were impossible in that frenzy and confusion, and as the only hope of mastering it seemed to be in reaching Chemnitz, Heubner gave the order to march on towards that town as soon as every one had had food. Once this was settled, I told my friends I should go on in advance of their column to Chemnitz, where I should find them again next day; for I longed to be quit of this chaos. I actually caught the coach, the departure of which was fixed for that time, and obtained a seat in it. But the revolutionaries were just marching off on the same road, and we were told that we must wait until they had passed to avoid being caught in the whirlpool. This meant considerable delay, and for a long while I watched the peculiar bearing of the patriots as they marched out. I noticed in particular a Vogtland regiment, whose marching step was fairly orthodox, following the beat of a drummer who tried to vary the monotony of his instrument in an artistic manner by hitting the wooden frame alternately with the drumhead. The unpleasant rattling tone thus produced reminded me in ghostly fashion of the rattling of the skeletons' bones in the dance round the gallows by night which Berlioz had brought home to my imagination with such terrible realism in his performance of the last movement of his Sinfonie Fantastique in Paris.

Suddenly the desire seized me to look up the friends I had left behind, and travel to Chemnitz in their company if possible. I found they had quitted the Town Hall, and on reaching Heubner's house I was told that he was asleep. I therefore went back to the coach, which, however, was still putting off its departure, as the road was blocked with troops. I walked nervously up and down for some time, then, losing faith in the journey by coach, I went back again to Heubner's house to offer myself definitely as a travelling companion. But Heubner and Bakunin had already left home, and I could find no traces of them. In desperation I returned once more to the coach, and found it by this time really ready to start. After various delays and adventures it brought me late at night to Chemnitz, where I got out and betook myself to the nearest inn. At five o'clock the next morning I got up (after a few hours' sleep) and set out to find my brother-in-law Wolfram's house, which was about a quarter of an hour's walk from the town. On the way I asked a sentinel of the town guard whether he knew anything about the arrival of the provisional government.

'Provisional government?' was the reply. 'Why, it's all up with that.' I did not understand him, nor was I able to learn anything about the state of things when I first reached the house of my relatives, for my brother-in-law had been sent into the town as special constable. It was only on his return home, lute in the afternoon, that I heard what had taken place in one hotel at Chemnitz while I had been resting in another inn. Heubner, Bakunin, and the man called Martin, whom I have mentioned already, had, it seemed, arrived before me in a hackney-coach at the gates of Chemnitz. On being asked for their names Heubner had announced himself in a tone of authority, and had bidden the town councillors come to him at a certain hotel. They had no sooner reached the hotel than they all three collapsed from excessive fatigue. Suddenly the police broke into the room and arrested them in the name of the local government, upon which they only begged to have a few hours' quiet sleep, pointing out that flight was out of the question in their present condition. I heard further that they had been removed to Altenburg under a strong military escort. My brother-in-law was obliged to confess that the Chemnitz municipal guard, which had been forced to start for Dresden much against its will, and had resolved at the very outset to place itself at the disposal of the royal forces on arriving there, had deceived Heubner by inviting him to Chemnitz, and had lured him into the trap. They had reached Chemnitz long before Heubner, and had taken over the guard at the gates with the object of seeing him arrive and of preparing for his arrest at once. My brother-in-law had been very anxious about me too, as he had been told in furious tones by the leaders of the town guard that I had been seen in close association with the revolutionaries. He thought it a wonderful intervention of Providence that I had not arrived at Chemnitz with them and gone to the same inn, in which case their fate would certainly have been mine. The recollection of my escape from almost certain death in duels with the most experienced swordsmen in my student days flashed across me like a flash of lightning. This last terrible experience made such an impression on me that I was incapable of breathing a word in connection with what had happened. My brother-in-law, in response to urgent appeals--from my wife in particular, who was much concerned for my personal safety--undertook to convey me to Altenburg in his carriage by night. From there I continued my journey by coach to Weimar, where I had originally planned to spend my holidays, little thinking that I should arrive by such devious ways.

The dreamy unreality of my state of mind at this time is best explained by the apparent seriousness with which, on meeting Liszt again, I at once began to discuss what seemed to be the sole topic of any real interest to him in connection with me--the forthcoming revival of Tannhauser at Weimar. I found it very difficult to confess to this friend that I had not left Dresden in the regulation way for a conductor of the royal opera. To tell the truth, I had a very hazy conception of the relation in which I stood to the law of my country (in the narrow sense). Had I done anything criminal in the eye of the law or not? I found it impossible to come to any conclusion about it. Meanwhile, alarming news of the terrible conditions in Dresden continued to pour into Weimar. Genast, the stage manager, in particular, aroused great excitement by spreading the report that Rockel, who was well known at Weimar, had been guilty of arson. Liszt must soon have gathered from my conversation, in which I did not take the trouble to dissimulate, that I too was suspiciously connected with these terrible events, though my attitude with regard to them misled him for some time. For I was not by any means prepared to proclaim myself a combatant in the recent fights, and that for reasons quite other than would have seemed valid in the eyes of the law. My friend was therefore encouraged in his delusion by the unpremeditated effect of my attitude. When we met at the house of Princess Caroline of Wittgenstein, to whom I had been introduced the year before when she paid her flying visit to Dresden, we were able to hold stimulating conversations on all sorts of artistic topics. One afternoon, for instance, a lively discussion sprang up from a description I had given of a tragedy to be entitled Jesus of Nazareth. Liszt maintained a discreet silence after I had finished, whereas the Princess protested vigorously against my proposal to bring such a subject on to the stage. From the lukewarm attempt I made to support the paradoxical theories I had put forward, I realised the state of my mind at that time. Although it was not very evident to onlookers, I had been, and still was, shaken to the very depths of my being by my recent experiences.

In due course an orchestral rehearsal of Tannhauser took place, which in various ways stimulated the artist in me afresh. Liszt's conducting, though mainly concerned with the musical rather than the dramatic side, filled me for the first time with the flattering warmth of emotion roused by the consciousness of being understood by another mind in full sympathy with my own. At the same time I was able, in spite of my dreamy condition, to observe critically the standard of capacity exhibited by the singers and their chorus-master. After the rehearsal I, together with the musical director, Stohr, and Gotze the singer, accepted Liszt's invitation to a simple dinner, at a different inn from the one where he lived. I thus had occasion to take alarm at a trait in his character which was entirely new to me. After being stirred up to a certain pitch of excitement his mood became positively alarming, and he almost gnashed his teeth in a passion of fury directed against a certain section of society which had also aroused my deepest indignation. I was strongly affected by this strange experience with this wonderful man, but I was unable to see the association of ideas which had led to his terrible outburst. I was therefore left in a state of amazement, while Liszt had to recover during the night from a violent attack of nerves which his excitement had produced. Another surprise was in store for me the next morning, when I found my friend fully equipped for a journey to Karlsruhe--the circumstances which made it necessary being absolutely incomprehensible to me. Liszt invited Director Stohr and myself to accompany him as far as Eisenach. On our way there we were stopped by Beaulieu, the Lord Chamberlain, who wished to know whether I was prepared to be received by the Grand Duchess of Weimar, a sister of the Emperor Nicolas, at Eisenach castle. As my excuse on the score of unsuitable travelling costume was not admitted, Liszt accepted in my name, and I really met with a surprisingly kind reception that evening from the Grand Duchess, who chatted with me in the friendliest way, and introduced me to her chamberlain with all due ceremony. Liszt maintained afterwards that his noble patroness had been informed that I should be wanted by the authorities in Dresden within the next few days, and had therefore hastened to make my personal acquaintance at once, knowing that it would compromise her too heavily later on.

Liszt continued his journey from Eisenach, leaving me to be entertained and looked after by Stohr and the musical director Kuhmstedt, a diligent and skilful master of counterpoint with whom I paid my first visit to the Wartburg, which had not then been restored. I was filled with strange musings as to my fate when I visited this castle. Here I was actually on the point of entering, for the first time, the building which was so full of meaning for me; here, too, I had to tell myself that the days of my further sojourn in Germany were numbered. And in fact the news from Dresden, when we returned to Weimar the next day, was serious indeed. Liszt, on his return on the third day, found a letter from my wife, who had not dared to write direct to me. She reported that the police had searched my house in Dresden, to which she had returned, and that she had, moreover been warned on no account to allow me to return to that city, as a warrant had been taken out against me, and I was shortly to be served with a writ and arrested. Liszt,