In the morning, I visit the museum; unfortunately, the Esterhazy Gallery is closed. Overall, the impression of Hungary is one of deep sadness; it seems to be heading toward complete disintegration. Theft in the administration is a daily occurrence, alongside rampant megalomania—no German is allowed to be spoken. Life is horrendously expensive; there is no middle class, only an inflated, uncultivated nobility. The musical conditions are just as sorrowful; Father is entirely cut off from everything, he is really quite alien there. However, Richter seems to be faring well. The concert is at 7 o’clock, after we dined with Father and I paid a few visits, including one to Pastor Schwendtner. The hall is very full, and the performance brilliant, with much enthusiasm. After the concert, a small supper, where I hear the saddest news from Count Apponyi about this poor land! Home at 1 o’clock in the morning.
Revised English translation by Jo Cousins.