The story of the invitation of Richard Wagner, the then dreaded iconoclast of music, to London, to conduct the concerts of the conservative Philharmonic Society, is both curious and interesting, in the history of the tonal art. Costa, the previous conductor, had resigned. The pressing question was, who could succeed so popular a man? The names of many German notabilities were proposed, and as soon dismissed. In England there was Sterndale Bennett, but he had quarrelled with the directors; the field was therefore open. It was then that the appointment of Wagner was suggested and agreed to. The circumstances were as follows. Prosper Sainton, the eminent violinist, was both leader of the orchestra of the Philharmonic, and one of the seven directors of the society. He was and is[8] an intimate friend of mine, and to him I proposed Richard Wagner. At that time Sainton was living with Charles Lüders, a dear, lovable German musician, with whom he had travelled on concert tours throughout Europe. From the time the two men met in Russia, they lived together for twenty-five years, until the marriage of Sainton with Miss Dolby, since which time Lüders was a daily visitor at his friend’s house, Sainton administering always to his comfort, and tending him on his death-bed, in the summer of 1884. Lüders and I were heart and soul, and catching my enthusiasm he pressed Sainton so warmly, that the name of Wagner was at once proposed. Richard Wagner was then but a myth to the average English musician. However, as Sainton was a general favourite with his colleagues, and was, further, held in high esteem on account of his artistic perception, I was requested, through his influence, to appear before the directors. I had then been a resident in the metropolis for twenty-one years; I attended at a directors’ meeting in Hanover Square, and stated my views.
Up to the present time, I have never been able to discover how it was that seven sedate gentlemen could have been so influenced by my red-hot enthusiasm as to have been led to offer the appointment to Richard Wagner. I found that they either knew very little of him or nothing at all, nor did I know him personally; I was but the reflection of August Roeckel; as a composer, however, I had become so wholly his partisan as to regard him the genius of the age. The crusade in favour of Richard Wagner, upon which I then entered with so much fervour, will be best understood by an article contributed by me at the time to the “New York Musical Gazette,”[9] parts of which I think it advisable to reproduce here, even at the expense of repeating an incident or two. The article was summarized in the London musical papers, and immediately a shower of virulent abuse fell upon me which, however, at no period affected in the slightest my ardour for Wagner’s cause.