during which she, like myself, burst into tears and sobs.
Refreshed by the sympathetic impression I had received, I went by
way of Schwerin, where I was disappointed in my hopes of finding
traces of Minna, to Lubeck, to wait for a merchant ship going to
Riga. We had set sail for Travemunde when an unfavourable wind
set in, and held up our departure for a week: I had to spend this
disagreeable time in a miserable ship's tavern. Thrown on my own
resources I tried, amongst other things, to read Till
Eulenspiegel, and this popular book first gave me the idea of a
real German comic opera. Long afterwards, when I was composing
the words for my Junger Siegfried, I remember having many vivid
recollections of this melancholy sojourn in Travemunde and my
reading of Till Eulenspiegel. After a voyage of four days we at
last reached port at Bolderaa. I was conscious of a peculiar
thrill on coming into contact with Russian officials, whom I had
instinctively detested since the days of my sympathy with the
Poles as a boy. It seemed to me as if the harbour police must
read enthusiasm for the Poles in my face, and would send me to
Siberia on the spot, and I was the more agreeably surprised, on
reaching Riga, to find myself surrounded by the familiar German
element which, above all, pervaded everything connected with the
theatre.

After my unfortunate experiences in connection with the
conditions of small German stages, the way in which this newly
opened theatre was run had at first a calming effect on my mind.
A society had been formed by a number of well-to-do theatre-goers
and rich business men to raise, by voluntary subscription,
sufficient money to provide the sort of management they regarded
as ideal with a solid foundation. The director they appointed was