As the opera house had been burnt down only about a year before, and could not possibly have been rebuilt, it had not occurred to me to remind them about the production of my opera.  It had been performed in Dresden with very poor scenic accessories, and knowing how important a careful and artistic execution of the difficult scenery was for my dramatic sea-scapes, I had relied implicitly on the admirable management and staging capacities of the Berlin opera house.  Consequently I was very much annoyed that the Berlin manager should select my opera as a stopgap to be produced at the Comedy Theatre, which was being used as a temporary opera house.  All remonstrances proved useless, for I learned that they were not merely thinking about rehearsing the work, but that it was already actually being rehearsed, and would be produced in a few days.  It was obvious that this arrangement meant that my opera was to be condemned to quite a short run in their repertoire, as it was not to be expected that they would remount it when the new opera house was opened.  On the other hand, they tried to appease me by saying that this first production of the Fliegender Hollander was to be associated with a special engagement of Schroder-Devrient, which was to begin in Berlin immediately.  They naturally thought I should be delighted to see the great actress in my own work.  But this only confirmed me in the suspicion that this opera was simply wanted as a makeshift for the duration of Schroder-Devrient’s visit.  They were evidently in a dilemma with regard to her repertoire, which consisted mainly of so-called grand operas—­such as Meyerbeer’s—­ destined exclusively for the opera house, and which were being specially reserved for the brilliant future of the new building.  I therefore realised beforehand that my Fliegender Hollander was to be relegated to the category of conductor’s operas, and would meet with the usual predestined fate of such productions.  The whole treatment meted out to me and my works all pointed in the same direction; but in consideration of the expected co-operation of Schroder-Devrient I fought against these vexatious premonitions, and set out for Berlin to do all I could for the success of my opera.  I saw at once that my presence was very necessary.  I found the conductor’s desk occupied by a man calling himself Conductor Henning (or Henniger), an official who had won promotion from the ranks of ordinary musicians by an upright observance of the laws of seniority, but who knew precious little about conducting an orchestra at all, and about my opera had not the faintest glimmer of an idea.  I took my seat at the desk, and conducted one full rehearsal and two performances, in neither of which, however, did Schroder-Devrient take part.  Although I found much to complain of in the weakness of the string instruments and the consequent mean sound of the orchestra, yet I was well satisfied with the actors both as regards their capacity and their zeal.  The careful staging, moreover, which under the supervision of the really gifted stage manager, Blum, and with the co-operation of his skilful and ingenious mechanics, was truly excellent, gave me a most pleasant surprise.