Beacon Lights of History, Volume 14 | Page 7

had written,
entitled, "Das Liebesverbot," or "The Novice of Palermo," and which
therefore was given only once. Many years later an attempt was made
to revive this juvenile work at Munich, but the project was abandoned
because, as the famous Wagnerian tenor, Heinrich Vogl, informed the
writer of this article, "Its arias and other numbers were such ludicrous
and undisguised imitations of Donizetti and other popular composers of
that time that we all burst out laughing, and kept up the merriment
throughout the rehearsal." This is of interest because it shows that
Wagner, like that other great reformer, Gluck, began his career by
writing fashionable operas in the Italian style. A still earlier opera of
his, "The Fairies,"--the first one he completed,--was not produced till
1888, fifty-five years after it had been written, and five years after
Wagner's death. This has been performed a number of times in Munich,
but it is so weak and uninteresting in itself that it required a splendid

stage setting, and the "historic" curiosity of Wagner's admirers to make
it palatable. It is significant that already in these early works, Wagner
wrote his own librettos,--a policy which he pursued to the end.
Königsberg was the next city where the opera company with which he
was connected, failed. This was the more embarrassing to him, as he
had in the meantime been so unwise as to marry a pretty actress, Minna
Planer, who was destined, for a quarter of a century, to faithfully share
his experiences,--chiefly disappointments. The pittance he got as
conductor of these small German opera companies did not pay his
expenses, all the less as he was fond of luxurious living, and, like most
artists, the world over, foolishly squandered his money when he
happened to have any.
At Riga, where Wagner next attempted to establish himself, the opera
company again got into trouble, and his financial straits became such
that, relying on his future ability to meet his obligations, he resolved to
leave that part of the world altogether and seek his fortune in Paris. He
knew that the Prussian Meyerbeer had won fame and fortune
there,--why should not he have the same good luck? He had unbounded
confidence in his own ability, and what increased his hopes of a
Parisian success, was that he had already completed two acts of a grand
historic opera, "Rienzi," based on Bulwer's novel, and written in the
sensational and spectacular style of Meyerbeer. He supposed that all he
had to do was to go to Paris, finish this opera, get it accepted through
the influence of his countryman and colleague, Meyerbeer, and--wake
up some morning famous and wealthy. He was not the first man who
built castles in Spain.
To-day a trip from Riga to Paris is a very simple affair. You get into a
train, and in about twenty-four hours are at your goal. In 1839 there
were no such conveniences. Wagner had to go to the Prussian seaport
of Pillau, and there board a sailing vessel which took him to London in
three weeks and a half. His journey, however, was a much more
romantic affair than a railway trip would have been. In the first place, it
was a real flight--from his creditors whom he had to evade. Next he had
to dodge the Russian sentries, whose boxes were placed on the

boundary line only a thousand yards apart. A friend discovered a way
of accomplishing this feat, and Wagner presently found himself on the
ship, with his wife and his enormous Newfoundland dog. In his trunk
he had what he hoped would help him to begin a brilliant career in
Paris: one opera completed,--"The Novice of Palermo;" two acts of
another,--"Rienzi;" and in his head he had the plot and some of the
musical themes for a third,--"The Flying Dutchman."
The sea voyage came just in time to give him local color for this weird
nautical opera. Three times the vessel was tossed by violent storms, and
once the captain was obliged to seek safety in a Norwegian harbor. The
sailors told Wagner their version of the "Flying Dutchman" legend, and
altogether these adventures were the very thing he wanted at the time,
and aided him in making his opera realistic, both in its text and its
music, which imitates the howling of the storm winds and "smells of
the salt breezes."
So for once our young musician had a streak of luck. But it did not last
long. He found Paris a very large city, and with very little use for him.
He made the most diverse efforts to support himself, nearly always
without success. Once it seemed as if his hopes were to be fulfilled.
The Théâtre de la Renaissance accepted his "Novice of Palermo;" but at
the last moment there