The rumour that in writing Tannhauser I had been bribed by the Catholic part was believed for a long time.  While the effort was being made to ruin my popularity by this means, I had the questionable honour of being approached, first by letter, afterwards in person, by a certain M. Rousseau, at that time editor of the Prussian Staatszeitung, who wished for my friendship and help.  I knew of him only in connection with a scathing criticism of my Fliegender Hollander.  He informed me that he had been sent from Austria to further the Catholic cause in Berlin, but that he had had so many sad experiences of the fruitlessness of his efforts, that he was now returning to Vienna to continue his work in this direction undisturbed, with which work I had, by my Tannhauser, proclaimed myself fully in accord.

That remarkable paper, the Dresdener Anzeiger, which was a local organ for the redress of slander and scandal, daily published some fresh bit of news to my prejudice.  At last I noticed that these attacks were met by witty and forcible little snubs, and also that encouraging comments appeared in my favour, which for some time surprised me very much, as I knew that only enemies and never friends interested themselves in such cases.  But I learned, to my amusement, from Rockel, that he and my friend Heine had carried out this inspiriting campaign on my behalf.

The ill-feeling against me in this quarter was only troublesome because at that unfortunate period I was hindered from expressing myself through my work.  Tichatschek continued hoarse, and it was said he would never sing in my opera again.  I heard from Luttichau that, scared by the failure of Tannhauser, he was holding himself in readiness to countermand the order for the promised scenery for the Hall of Song, or to cancel it altogether.  I was so terrified at the cowardice which was thus revealed, that I myself began to look upon Tannhauser as doomed.  My prospects and my whole position, when viewed in this mood, may be readily gathered from my communications, especially those referring to my negotiations for the publication of my works.

This terrible week dragged out like an endless eternity.  I was afraid to look anybody in the face, but was one day obliged to go to Meser’s music shop, where I met Gottfried Semper just buying a text-book of Tannhauser.  Only a short time before I had been very much put out in discussing this subject with him; he would listen to nothing I had to say about the Minnesangers and Pilgrims of the Middle Ages in connection with art, but gave me to understand that he despised me for my choice of such material.

While Meser assured me that no inquiry whatever had been received for the numbers of Tannhauser already published, it was strange that my most energetic antagonist should be the only person who had actually bought and paid for a copy.  In a peculiarly earnest and impressive manner he remarked to me that it was necessary to be thoroughly acquainted with the subject if a just opinion was to be passed on it, and that for this purpose, unfortunately, nothing but the text was available.  This very meeting with Semper, strange as it may appear, was the first really encouraging sign that I can remember.