he was principally a man of business and understood but little of music.  Above all, it was necessary that my compositions should become well known in Paris, so that further enterprises might be founded on the results thus obtained.  With this object in view I decided to arrange a few important concerts.  To effect this I had to welcome my old friend Belloni, Liszt’s former secretary, into the circle of my closer acquaintances.  He immediately enlisted a companion of his in our cause, a highly intelligent man called Giacomelli, whom I never knew to be anything but good-natured.  He was the editor of a theatrical journal and was cordially recommended to me by Belloni, as much for his excellent French as for his exceptional capabilities in other respects.  My new protector’s strange editorial office became from this time one of my most important places of rendezvous, which I frequented almost daily, and where I met all the curious creatures with whom, for the purpose of theatrical and similar matters, one is obliged to mix in Paris.  The next thing to be considered was how to obtain the most suitable hall for my intended concerts.  It was evident that I should appear to greatest advantage before the Parisian public if I could secure the theatre and orchestra of the Grand Opera.

For this I had to address myself to the Emperor Napoleon, which I did in a concise letter composed for me by Gasperini.  The hostility of Fould, who was at that time the Minister of the Household to Napoleon, would probably have to be reckoned with, on account of his friendly relations to Meyerbeer.  The injurious and dreaded influence of this personage we hoped to counteract by that of M. Mocquard, Napoleon’s secretary, who, as Ollivier declared, composed all the imperial speeches.  In an elan of fiery generosity Lucy decided to appeal to the friend of his youth, for as such he regarded Mocquard, in a letter of recommendation to him on my behalf.  As even this communication received no answer from the Tuileries, I and my more practical friends, Belloni and Giacomelli, with whom I held consultations, grew more doubtful every day of our own power as opposed to that of the Minister of the Household, and we therefore entered into negotiations with Calzado, the director of the Italian Opera, instead.  We met with a direct refusal in this quarter, whereupon I finally decided to seek a personal interview with the man.  By a power of persuasion which astonished even myself, and, above all, by holding out the prospect of my Tristan at the Italian Opera possibly proving a huge success, I actually succeeded in at last obtaining his consent to let the Salle Ventadour for three evenings with a week’s interval between each.  But even my passionate eloquence, which Giacomelli extolled on our way home, could not persuade him to lower the rent, which he fixed at four thousand francs an evening, merely for the hire and lighting of the hall.