IV

So, less than eight years after, Ludwig Geyer followed his friend Carl Friedrich Wagner to the grave, like him to a premature grave.  He left only one child of his own, Augusta Caecilie (born February 26, 1815); but he made Friedrich’s widow his wife and her children were as his children; and he toiled hard for their comfort and planned unceasingly for their welfare; and when on an October morning he was left in his last peaceful home to rest, it must have seemed to his widow as though happiness was to be denied her until she joined him.  The winter of 1813 had been black enough, but at once she had Geyer; in 1821 there was no second Geyer.  Adolph Wagner may have seen in the tragedy a marked instance of the folly of having anything to do with the stage or actors.  Possibly he did not realize that precisely through Geyer’s connection with the theatre, and only to a comparatively small extent by means of his reputation as an artist, his sister-in-law and nephews and nieces suffered less than might have been anticipated.  For on the morning following Geyer’s death Rosalie swore to take his place as provider for the family, and that promise she kept.

When Richard was six months old, fate, as we have seen, struck her first blow, placed the first obstacle in the path of a successful infantile career, and swiftly sent Geyer to his aid.  Now, when he was just turned eight, she snatched away Geyer, and had already Rosalie in readiness to help him.  And, in fact, throughout Wagner’s life fate seemed never to tire of delivering staggering blows with one hand, and with the other hand, at the same moment or a moment later, giving him compensation, often ample, sometimes on a scale of lordly generosity.  From the beginning to the end of his seventy years no man ever had worse or better luck than Wagner.  It is perfectly clear that fate meant him to write the Mastersingers and Tristan, and at times she was cruel to him only to be kind to humanity.  It is true she seems to have made a mistake when she allowed him to complete Parsifal—­but that matter lies as yet many chapters ahead.

It would appear that Frau Geyer had a pension of some sort; since May 1 Rosalie had been engaged with the Royal Court players of Dresden; Albert and Louise both had engagements at Breslau—­one of Geyer’s last acts had been to see Albert safely fixed there; it is probable, if not certain, that Adolph Wagner—­who, after all, was fairly well off—­lent a helpful hand:  and the family, if not in the modest affluent circumstances they enjoyed while Geyer lived, at any rate tasted none of the bitterness of poverty.  Glasenapp states that Geyer’s “stock of pictures” had gone up in value after his death; but as he just previously tells us of Geyer’s lack of time and of “would-be sitters” waiting their turn, we cannot see how the stock can have been very large.  Let us hope, however, that