rg" ("Tannhaeuser and the
singers' contest at the Wartburg"), a romantic opera in three acts,
words by the composer, was first produced at the Royal Opera, Dresden,
Oct. 20, 1845, with Mme. Schroeder-Devrient and Herr Niemann as
Elizabeth and Tannhaeuser. Its first performance in Paris was on March
13, 1861; but it was a failure after three representations, and was
made the butt of Parisian ridicule, even Berlioz joining in the
tirade. In England it was brought out in Italian at Covent Garden, May
6, 1876, though its overture was played by the London Philharmonic
orchestra in 1855, Wagner himself leading.

In the spring of 1842 Wagner returned from Paris to Germany, and on
his way to Dresden visited the castle of Wartburg, in the Thuringian
Valley, where he first conceived the idea of writing "Tannhaeuser." The
plot was taken from an old German tradition, which centres about the
castle where the landgraves of the thirteenth century instituted
peaceful contests between the Minnesingers and knightly poets. Near
this castle towers the Venusberg, a dreary elevation, which, according
to popular tradition, was inhabited by Holda, the goddess of Spring.
Proscribed by Christianity, she took refuge in its caverns, where she
was afterwards confounded with the Grecian Venus. Her court was filled
with nymphs and sirens, who enticed those whose impure desires led
them to its vicinity, and lured them into the caverns, from which they
were supposed never to return. The first act opens in this court, and
reveals Tannhaeuser, the knight and minstrel, under the sway of Venus.
In spite of her fascinations he succeeds in tearing himself away, and
we next find him at the castle of Wartburg, the home of Hermann the
Landgrave, whose daughter Elizabeth is in love with him. At the
minstrel contest he enters into the lists with the other Minnesingers,
and, impelled by a reckless audacity and the subtle influence of
Venus, sings of the attractions of sensual pleasures. Walter, of the
Vogelweide, replies with a song to virtue. Tannhaeuser breaks out in
renewed sensual strains, and a quarrel ensues. The knights rush upon
him with their swords, but Elizabeth interposes and saves his life. He
expresses his penitence, makes a pilgrimage to Rome and confesses to
the Pope, who replies that, having tasted the pleasures of hell, he is
forever damned, and, raising his crosier, adds: "Even as this wood
cannot blossom again, so there is no pardon for thee."