It was in 1848, after the completion of Tannhäuser, that Wagner
looked about for a subject for a new opera. Then 'for the last
time the conflicting claims of History and Legend presented
themselves.' He had studied the story of Barbarossa, intending
to make use of it, but discarded it in favour of the Nibelungen
Myths, which he decided to dramatise.[1] His first effort was
an alliterative poem entitled 'The Death of Siegfried,' which,
however, was soon set aside, a part of it only being incorporated
in 'The Twilight [or Dusk] of the Gods.'
Wagner was then dwelling in Dresden, and planning the
organisation of a national theatre; but the political troubles
of 1849, which resulted in his banishment, soon defeated all
these hopes. After a short sojourn in Paris, Wagner took up
his abode in Zurich, where he became a naturalised citizen, and
where he first turned all his attention to the principal work
of his life,--'The Nibelungen Ring.' In connection with this
work Wagner himself wrote: 'When I tried to dramatise the most
important moment of the mythos of the Nibelungen in Siegfried's
Tod, I found it necessary to indicate a vast number of antecedent
facts, so as to put the main incidents in the proper light. But
I could only _narrate_ these subordinate matters, whereas I felt
it imperative that they should be embodied in the action. Thus
I came to write Siegfried. But here again the same difficulty
troubled me. Finally I wrote "Die Walküre" and "Das Rheingold,"
and thus contrived to incorporate all that was needful to make
the action tell its own tale.' The completed poem was privately
printed in 1853, and published 'as a literary product' ten
years later, when the author was in his fiftieth year.
As for the score, it was begun in 1853, and Wagner says:
'During a sleepless night at an inn at Spezzia, the music of
"Das Rheingold" occurred to me; straightway I turned homeward
and set to work.' Such was the energy with which he laboured
that the complete score of the Rheingold was finished in
1854. Two years later the music to the Walkyrie was all done,
and Siegfried begun. But pecuniary difficulties now forced
the master to undertake more immediately remunerative work,
and, 'tired of heaping one silent score upon another,' he
undertook and finished 'Tristan and Ysolde.' He then thought
he would never be able to finish his grand work, and wrote:
'I can hardly expect to find leisure to complete the music, and
I have dismissed all hope that I may live to see it performed.'
Fortunately for him, however, Ludwig II. of Bavaria had heard
'Lohengrin' when only sixteen, and, a passionate lover of
music and art, he had become an enthusiastic admirer of the
great composer. One of the very first acts of his reign was,
therefore, to despatch his own private secretary to Wagner with
the message, 'Come here and finish your work.'
As this message was backed by a small pension which would enable
the musician to keep the wolf from the door, he hopefully went
to Munich. But, in spite of the sovereign's continued favour,
Wagner found so many enemies that the sojourn there became
very unpleasant. It was then that the architect Semper made
the first plans for a theatre, in which the king intended that
'The Nibelungen Ring' should be played, as he had formally
commissioned Wagner to complete the work.
Driven away from his native land once more by the bitterness of
his enemies, Wagner, who still enjoyed Ludwig's entire favour,
withdrew in 1865 to Triebschen, where the 'Ring' progressed
steadily. It was there, in 1869, that he completed the Siegfried
score, and began that of 'The Twilight of the Gods,' which was
finished only some time later. As the King's plan for building a
national theatre for the representation of 'The Nibelungen Ring'
had to be abandoned, the scheme was taken up by the municipality
of the little town of Bayreuth. Wagner was cordially invited
to take up his residence there, and settled in his new home in
1872, when he was already sixty years of age.
Thanks to munificent private subscriptions secured in great
part by the Wagner societies in various parts of the world,
the long planned theatre was finally begun. It was finished in
1876, and the entire 'Nibelungen Ring' was performed there in
the month of August, the very best singers of the day taking
all the principal parts, which they rendered to the best of
their abilities. The result was a magnificent performance,
a musical triumph; but as the venture was not a financial
success, the performances were not repeated in the following
summer. Several new ventures, however, were made, and another
Wagner festival has just taken place, of which the real result
is yet unknown, although the attendance was very large, the
audience being composed of people from all parts of the world.
Thus Wagner completed and rendered the series of operas, which
include plays 'for three days and a fore evening,' whence the
series is generally called a 'trilogy,' although it is really
composed of four whole operas.
Away down in the translucent depths of the Rhine, three beautiful
nymphs, Woglinde, Wellgunde, and Flosshilde, daughters of the
river-god, dart in and out among the jagged rocks. They have
been stationed there to guard the Rhinegold, the priceless
treasure of the deep, whence comes all the warm golden light
which illumines the utmost recesses of their dark and damp abode.
The nymphs suddenly pause in their merry game, for the wily
dwarf Alberich has emerged from one of the sombre chasms. He
is a Nibelung, a spirit of night and darkness, and slowly
gropes his way to one of the upper ridges, whence he can see
the graceful forms of the nymphs, watch their merry evolutions,
and overhear them repeatedly admonish each other to keep watch
over the gleaming treasure, which their father, the Rhinegod,
has intrusted to their keeping, warning them that just such a
dark and misshapen creature as the dwarf would try to wrest it
from their grasp:--
'Guard the gold!
Father said
That such was the foe.'
But all Alberich's senses are fascinated by the water-nymphs'
beauty, and he soon falls madly in love with them, and makes
almost superhuman efforts to overtake the mocking fair. Hotly he
pursues them from ridge to ridge, yielding to the blandishments
of one after another, and is beside himself with rage as they
deftly escape from his clasp just as he fancies he has at
last caught them. The fair nymphs, who know they have nothing
to fear from so infatuated a lover, swim hither and thither,
tantalising him by their nearness, and lure him up and down
the rocky river-bed.
They have just exhausted his patience, and driven him wild with
impotent rage, when the green waters are suddenly illumined
by the phosphorescent glow of the Rhinegold, the treasure
whose presence they hail with a rapturous outburst of song,
and whose secret power they extol:--
'The realm of the world
By him shall be won
Who from the Rhinegold
Hath wrought the ring
Imparting measureless power.'[2]
The dwarf, attracted by the brilliant light, hears their words
at first without paying any attention to them; but when they
repeat that he who is willing to forego love can fashion a ring
from this gold which will make him master of all the world,
he starts with surprise. Fascinated at last by the glow of
the treasure, and forgetting all thoughts of love in greed, he
suddenly grasps the carelessly guarded gold and plunges with
it down into the depths, leaving the three nymphs to bewail
its loss in utter darkness.
Little by little the gloom lightens, however, and instead of
the river bed the scene represents the green valley through
which the Rhine is flowing. In the gray dawn one can descry the
high hills on either side, and as the light increases Wotan
and Fricka, the principal deities of Northern mythology, are
seen lying on the flowery slopes.
As they gently awaken from their peaceful slumbers, the
morning mists entirely disappear, revealing in the background
the fairy-like beauty of a wondrous palace which has just been
completed for their abode. This sight startles Fricka, for she
knows that the assembled gods have promised that Fasolt and
Fafnir, the gigantic builders, should have sun and moon and the
fair Freya as fee. To lose the bright luminaries of the world
were bad enough, but Fricka's dismay is still greater at the
prospect of parting forever with the fair goddess of beauty
and youth. In her sorrow she bitterly regrets that the promise
has been made and rendered inviolable by being inscribed on
her husband's spear, and reproves him for the joy he shows in
viewing the completion of his future abode:--
'In delight thou revel'st
When I am alarmed?
Thou 'rt glad of the fortress,
For Freya I fear.
Bethink thee, thou thoughtless god,
Of the guerdon now to be given!
The castle is finished,
And forfeit the pledge.
Forgettest thou what is engaged?'
Thus suddenly brought to his senses, Wotan, king of the Northern
gods, protests that he never really intended to part with the
beauty, light, and sweetness of life, and seeks to excuse himself
by urging that Loge, the god of fire and the arch-deceiver,
overpersuaded him by promising to find some way of escape from
the fatal bargain:--
'He whom I hearkened to swore
To find a safety for Freya;
On him my hope have I set.'
They are still discussing the matter, and eagerly wondering
why Loge does not appear, when Freya comes rushing wildly
upon the stage, with fear-blanched face and trembling limbs,
breathlessly imploring the father of the gods to save her from
the two huge giants in close pursuit. In her terror she also
summons her devoted brothers, Donner and Fro. But, in spite of
the strength of these potent gods of the sunshine and thunder,
the giants boldly advance, boasting aloud of their achievement,
and demanding the fulfilment of the stipulated contract.
The gods are almost at their wits' end with anxiety, when Loge,
god of fire, appears. They loudly clamour to him to keep his word
and release them from the consequences of their rash bargain. In
reply to this summons, Loge declares he has wandered everywhere
in search of something more precious than youth and love,
and that he has utterly failed to find it. No one, he says,
is ready to relinquish these blessed gifts,--no one except
Alberich, who has bartered love for the gleaming treasure which
he has just stolen from the Rhine nymphs. Loge concludes his
speech by delivering to Wotan an imploring message from the
defrauded maidens, who summon him to avenge their wrongs and
help them to recover the stolen gold. The description of the
gleaming treasure, of the power of the ring which Alberich has
fashioned out of it, and especially of the immense hoard which
he has amassed by the unlimited sway which the ring enables
him to wield over all the underground folk, has so greatly
fascinated the giants, that, after a few moments' consultation,
they step forward, offering to relinquish all claim to the
previously promised reward, providing the hoard is theirs ere
nightfall. This said, they bear the shrieking and reluctant
Freya away as a hostage, and vanish in the distance.
As they depart, the light suddenly grows wan and dim. The goddess
who has just departed is the dispenser of the golden apples
of perennial youth according to Wagner, and, as she vanishes,
the gods, deprived of the substance which keeps them ever young,
suddenly lose all their vigour and bloom, and grow visibly old
and gray, to their openly expressed dismay:--
'Without the apples,
Old and hoar--
Hoarse and helpless--
Worth not a dread to the world,
The dying gods must grow.'
This sudden change, especially in his beloved wife Fricka,
determines Wotan to secure the gold at any price, and he bids
Loge lead the way to Alberich's realm, following him bravely
down through a deep cleft in the rock, whence rises a dense mist,
which soon blots the whole scene from view.
In the mean while, the dwarf Alberich has conveyed the gleaming
Rhinegold to his underground dwelling, where, mindful of the
nymphs' words, he has forced his brother and slave, the smith
Mime, to fashion a ring. No sooner has Alberich put on this
trinket than he finds himself endowed with unlimited power, which
he uses to oppress all his race, and to pile up a mighty hoard,
for the greed of gold has now filled all his thoughts. Fearful
lest any one should wrest the precious ring from him, he next
directs Mime to make a helmet of gold, the magic tarn-helm,
which will render the wearer invisible. Mime is at work at his
underground forge, and has just finished the helmet which he
intends to appropriate to his own use to escape thraldom, when
Alberich suddenly appears, snatches it from his trembling hand,
and, placing it upon his head, becomes invisible to all. The
malicious dwarf misuses this power to torture Mime with his whip,
and rushes off to lash the dwarfs in the rear of the cave as
Wotan and Loge suddenly appear. Of course their first impulse
is to inquire the cause of Mime's writhing and bitter cries, and
from him they hear how Alberich has become lord of the Nibelungs
by the might of his ring and magic helmet. In corroboration
of this statement, the gods soon behold a long train of dwarfs
toiling across the cave, bending beneath their burdens of gold
and precious stones, and driven incessantly onward by Alberich's
whip, which he plies with merciless vigour. He is visible now,
for he has hung the magic helmet to his belt; but he no sooner
becomes aware of the gods' presence than he strides up to them,
and haughtily demands their name and business. Disarmed a little
by Wotan's answer, that they have heard of his new might and have
come to ascertain whether the accounts were true, Alberich boasts
of his power to compel all to bow before his will, and says he
can even change his form, thanks to his magic helmet. At Loge's
urgent request, the dwarf then gives them an exhibition of his
power by changing himself first into a huge loathsome dragon,
and next into a repulsive toad. While in this shape he is made
captive by the gods, deprived of his tarn-helm, and compelled
to surrender his hoard as the price of his liberty. Before
departing, Wotan even wrests from his grasp the golden ring,
to which he desperately clings, for he knows that as long as
it remains in his possession he will have the power to collect
more gold. In his rage at being deprived of it, Alberich hurls
his curse after the gods, declaring the ring will ever bring
death and destruction to the possessor:--
'As by curse I found it first,
A curse rest on the ring!
Gave its gold
To me measureless might,
Now deal its wonder
Death where it is worn!'
This curse uttered, he disappears, and while mist invades the
place the scene changes, and Loge and Wotan stand once more
on the grassy slopes, where Fricka, Donner, and Fro hasten to
welcome them, and to inquire concerning the success of their
enterprise. Almost at the same moment, the giants Fasolt and
Fafnir also appear, leading Freya, whom Fricka would fain
embrace, but who is withheld from her longing arms. The grim
giants vow that no one shall even touch their fair captive until
they have received a pile of gold as high as their staffs,
which they drive into the ground, and wide enough to screen
the goddess entirely. Thus admonished, Loge and Fro pile up the
gleaming treasure, which is surmounted by the glittering helmet,
whose power the giants do not know. Freya is entirely hidden,
and only a chink remains through which the giants can catch a
glimpse of her golden hair. They insist upon having this chink
closed up ere they will relinquish Freya, so Wotan is forced to
give up the magic ring. But he draws it from his finger only
when Erda, the shadowy earth goddess, half rises out of the
ground to command the sacrifice of the treasure which Alberich
stole from the Rhine maidens.
As the stipulated ransom has all been paid, the giants release
Freya. She joyfully embraces her kin, and under her caresses
they recover all their former youth and bloom. In the mean
while the giants produce their bags, but soon begin quarrelling
together about the division of the hoard, and appeal to the
gods to decide their dispute. The gods are all too busy to
pay any heed to this request, all except the malicious Loge,
who slyly advises Fafnir to seize the ring and pay no heed to
the rest. As the ring is accursed, Fafnir remorselessly slays
his brother to obtain it; then, packing up all the treasure in
his great bag, he triumphantly departs. To disperse the shadow
hovering over Wotan's brow ever since he has been obliged to
sacrifice the ring, Thor now beats the rocks with his magic
hammer, and conjures a brief storm. The long roll of thunder
soon dies away, and when the fitful play of the lightning
is ended Thor shows the assembled gods a glittering rainbow
bridge of quivering, changing hues, which stretches from the
valley where they are standing to the beautiful portals of the
wondrous palace Walhalla, the home of the gods!
Fascinated by this sight, Wotan invites the gods to follow him
over its lightly swung arch, and as they trip over the rainbow
bridge, the lament of the Rhine-maidens mourning their treasure
falls in slow, pitiful cadences upon their ears:--
'Rhinegold!
Purest gold!
O would that thy light
Waved in the waters below!
Unfailing faith
Is found in the deep,
While above, in delight,
Faintness and falsehood abide!'
[1] See the author's 'Myths of Northern Lands' and 'Legends of
the Rhine.'
[2] All the quotations in the 'Ring' have been taken either
from Dippold's or Forman's admirable translations.
[Illustration: BRUNHILDE DISCOVERING SIEGMUND AND SIEGLINDE.]