Wagner indulged in no illusions regarding these music-dramas.  He knew that they were beyond the capacity of even the best royal opera-houses of that time, and that they could be performed only under exceptional conditions, such as he finally succeeded, after herculean efforts and many disappointments, in securing at Bayreuth in 1876.  It is of great interest to note that the germs of a sort of “Bayreuth festival plan” can be found in his letters as early as 1850,—­the year when “Lohengrin” had its first hearing.  Thus a full quarter of a century elapsed between the conception of this festival plan and its execution.  But Wagner had the patience of Job, as well as his capacity for suffering.

Amid privations of all sorts, he wrote the sublime music of these dramas, beginning with “Rheingold,” on Nov. 1, 1853,—­the first time he had put new operatic melodies on paper since the completion of “Lohengrin,” in August, 1847.  In his head, to be sure, he had been carrying much of the Nibelung music for some time, for he habitually created his leading melodies at the same time as the verse; and the four Nibelung poems were in print in 1853.  On May 28, 1854, the score of “Rheingold” was completed, and four weeks later he began the sketches of “The Valkyrie,” the completed score of which was in his desk by the end of March, 1856.

In the meantime his poverty had compelled him, much against his wishes, to accept an offer from the London Philharmonic Society to conduct their concerts for a season (March to June, 1855).  He had reason to bitterly regret this action.  With the limited number of rehearsals at his command it was impossible for him to make the orchestra follow his intentions and reveal his greatness as a conductor.  He was not allowed to make the programmes, and the directors, ignorant of the fact that they had engaged the greatest musical genius of the century, gave no Wagner concert, and put only a few short selections from his early operas on the programs.  Thus his hopes of creating a desire for the hearing of his complete operas, which had been one of his motives in going to London, were frustrated.  He was, moreover, constantly abused for doing things differently from Mendelssohn, and the leading critics referred to his best music as “senseless discord,” “inflated display of extravagance and noise,” and so on.  Almost the only pleasant episode was the sympathy and interest of Queen Victoria, who had a long talk with him, and informed him that his music had enraptured her.

For all this trouble and loss of time (he found himself unable in London to do any satisfactory work on the uncompleted “Valkyrie” score), he received the munificent sum of $1,000,—­considerably less than many Wagner singers to-day get for one evening’s work.  Shortly before leaving London he wrote to a friend that he would bring home about 200 francs,—­$40!  For this he had wasted four months of precious time and endured endless “contrarieties and vulgar animosities,” to use his own words.