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diff --git a/78803-0.txt b/78803-0.txt new file mode 100644 index 0000000..3dec518 --- /dev/null +++ b/78803-0.txt @@ -0,0 +1,21185 @@ +*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK 78803 *** + + + + + JENNY LIND THE ARTIST, + 1820–1851. + A MEMOIR OF MADAME JENNY LIND GOLDSCHMIDT, HER ART-LIFE AND DRAMATIC +CAREER: FROM ORIGINAL DOCUMENTS, LETTERS, MS. DIARIES, &c., COLLECTED BY + MR. OTTO GOLDSCHMIDT. + + + HENRY SCOTT HOLLAND, M.A., + + CANON AND PRECENTOR OF ST. PAUL’S, + + AND + + W. S. ROCKSTRO, + AUTHOR OF “GENERAL HISTORY OF MUSIC,” + “LIFE OF MENDELSSOHN,” + “LIFE OF HANDEL,” + ETC. + + NEW AND ABRIDGED EDITION. + + WITH ILLUSTRATIONS. + + NEW YORK: + CHARLES SCRIBNER’S SONS, + 743 AND 745, BROADWAY. + + + LONDON: + PRINTED BY WILLIAM CLOWES AND SONS, Limited, + STAMFORD STREET AND CHARING CROSS. + + + =Dedicated= + + BY GRACIOUS PERMISSION + + TO + + =Her Majesty the Queen.= + + + + + PREFACE. + + +The welcome which was given to the Memoir of Jenny Lind in the original +edition of two volumes has encouraged us to offer it in a smaller and +less expensive form. In its first form it was essential that it should +aim at completeness and thoroughness of treatment. It had to omit +nothing that might legitimately be asked for, by those to whom her +memory was dear in Sweden, and in Germany, no less than in England. It +had to satisfy the attention and the interest of musical experts, to +whom her career was a record of artistic perfection. To do this, it +could not but be lengthy, detailed, and somewhat expensive. But, after +all this has been done, there remains a larger English public, to whom +she had become a name rather than a positive memory; who had never heard +her sing: but yet to whom her life could not but appeal with the +irresistible force that belongs to genius whenever it is allied with +simplicity, candour, purity, and courage. To them, her story would speak +home, if only they had the opportunity of reading it. + +We have, therefore, ventured on the task of reducing the memoir to one +volume, by vigorous curtailments, and by omission of much technical +matter.[1] We trust that, in this reduced form, it may still convey the +impression of a character which had a touch of unique nobility. Nothing +has been added, except that, in the chapter entitled “Last Words,” an +attempt has been made to fill up the outline of Madame Goldschmidt’s +art-life after her marriage, that it may be felt to have the reality, +and the value, which undoubtedly belonged to it in fact. + + H. S. HOLLAND. + W. S. ROCKSTRO. + +1893. + + + + + CONTENTS. + + + BOOK I.—ANTICIPATION. + + CHAPTER I. + INTRODUCTION _page_ 1 + + CHAPTER II. + CHILDHOOD. + Birth of Jenny Lind—Her parents—The child entrusted to Carl + Ferndal at Sollentuna—Her love of the country—Return to + Stockholm—Fru Tengmark, her grandmother—First discovery of + her musical gifts—The Fanfare—Jenny at the Widows’ Home— + Mdlle. Lundberg hears her sing—Introduction to Herr + Croelius—Jenny transferred to the School of the Royal + Theatre _page_ 7 + + CHAPTER III. + PUPILAGE. + The Royal Theatre, Stockholm—Jenny’s life at school—She is + boarded with her mother—Contract with the Directors—The + training of an _Aktris-Elev_—Jenny’s general education— + Difficulties with her mother—Friendship with Mina Fundin— + She takes refuge with Mdlle. Bayard—Her letter to Fru + Fundin _page_ 15 + + CHAPTER IV. + CAREER. + Jenny’s dramatic power—Her first appearance as “Angela” in + _The Polish Mine_—She acts “Johanna” in _Testamentet_— + Criticism in the _Heimdall_—Extract from the play—“Otto” + in _Johanna de Montfaucon_—“Janette” in the _Pasha of + Suresne_—“Louise” in the _Students of Småland_, etc.—_The + Daily Allehanda_ protests against its performance—Other + _rôles_—She sings at concerts—Herr Berg and his pupil— + Lindblad’s Opera _Frondörerne_—Sacchini’s _Œdipus in + Athens_—She receives a salary from the R. Theatre—Her + appearances in 1837—Hard work—Rise of Meyerbeer—_Robert de + Normandie_—Jenny Lind’s success _page_ 24 + + CHAPTER V. + DISCOVERY. + The moment of inspiration—“Agatha”—“Julia”—Rise in salary— + “Alice” in _Roberto_—Upsala—Escort home and Students’ + song—Country life—Popular enthusiasm—Fru Lind—Louise + Johansson—Jenny Lind’s removal to Herr Lindblad’s—Operatic + successes—Presentation of plate—The judgment of Sweden _page_ 35 + + CHAPTER VI. + CHARACTER. + Soirée at Stockholm—Moral independence—“A unique + apparition”—Personal appearance of Jenny Lind—A + transparent countenance—A typical Swede—Undertone of + melancholy—Friendship—Influence of Lindblad—Geijer’s songs _page_ 46 + + CHAPTER VII. + PILGRIMAGE. + Jenny Lind appointed Court Singer—Unsatisfied longings—Offer + from the Royal Theatre—Refusal—Parisian scheme—Provincial + tour accompanied by her father—Charity—Stockholm—“Lucia”— + “Alice”—“Norma”—Overstrain—Salary—Farewell _page_ 58 + + + BOOK II.—ASPIRATION. + + CHAPTER I. + IN PARIS, 1841–42. + On the way—Arrival in Paris—First introduction—Nervousness— + Garcia’s first impressions—Jenny Lind’s anguish—Rest— + Linguistic studies—Street cries—End of probation—Garcia’s + lessons—Scales and exercises—What to unlearn—The worst + over—Musical intuition _page_ 65 + + CHAPTER II. + THE STUDENT. + Home at Mdlle. du Puget’s—Home thoughts—Mdlle. Nissen’s + influence—Madame Persiani—Rachel—Dramatic inspiration— + Despondency—A merciful escape _page_ 73 + + CHAPTER III. + WITHIN SIGHT OF THE GOAL. + Recovery of voice with enhanced powers—The Artist complete— + Dislike to Parisian artist-life—Reasons for visit to Paris + and return to Stockholm—Longings for home _page_ 80 + + CHAPTER IV. + THE RETURN. + Offers from Stockholm—Engagement concluded—Lindblad’s + opinion—Interview with Meyerbeer—Private trial at the + Grand Opera—Meyerbeer’s judgment—M. Pillet, Director of + the Grand Opera—The second phase ended _page_ 85 + + + BOOK III.—ACHIEVEMENT. + HOME: AND AFTER? + The Continent passive—Residence at Stockholm—Invitation to + Louise Johansson—Re-appearance as “Norma”—The _messa di + voce_—Stockholm enraptured—New characters—Swedish laws as + to unmarried women—Jenny Lind and her parents—Appointment + of an official guardian—Description of Herr H. M. Munthe— + “The mirror of a noble soul”—National Jubilee—A May-day in + Wärend—The poet Topelius—J. A. Josephson—Success at + Copenhagen—Touching anecdote—New _rôles_—Gluck’s _Armida_— + Opinion of Andersen’s Tales—Proposals from Meyerbeer _page_ 91 + + + BOOK IV.—MASTERY. + + CHAPTER I. + IN DRESDEN. + Study of German—Josephson’s welcome—A soirée at Dresden— + Renewed offer at Stockholm—Jenny Lind’s refusal—A + momentous journey _page_ 111 + + CHAPTER II. + AT THE COURT OF BERLIN. + Predecessors of Jenny Lind—Suspense—Meyerbeer’s attentions— + Courtesy of the Royal Family—Success in Society—Impression + on Lady Westmorland—Transfiguration—Indifference to dress— + First meeting with Mendelssohn _page_ 115 + + CHAPTER III. + THE DÉBUT AT THE NEW OPERA-HOUSE. + _Das Feldlager in Schlesien_—Fräulein Tuczec—“Vielka”— + “Norma”—Success—Contrasts—Rellstab’s critique—Visit from + Herr Josephson—A Swedish Christmas Eve _page_ 121 + + CHAPTER IV. + ‘DAS FELDLAGER IN SCHLESIEN.’ + German studies resumed—Rapid progress—Meyerbeer enchanted— + The public astonished—The critic’s summary—Invitation to + London—At Tieck’s—Serenade and presentation _page_ 129 + + CHAPTER V. + THE BUNN CONTRACT. + Mr. Bunn’s journey to Berlin—Hears Jenny Lind—Proposals—The + Ambassador’s Box at the Opera—Contract signed—Terms _page_ 134 + + CHAPTER VI. + HOMAGE TO WEBER. + Weber’s death—His burial—Jenny Lind’s interpretation of + “Euryanthe”—Critique—The apparition of Emma—_La + Sonnambula_—Critique—Sudden indisposition—Letter from + Meyerbeer—Letter to Mr. Bunn—Last appearance—_Norma_— + Critique—_Soirée_ by the brothers Ganz—Court Concerts— + Other Concerts—Farewell—Swedish songs—At Professor + Wichmann’s—Unrest _page_ 138 + + CHAPTER VII. + AT HOME ONCE MORE. + The homeward journey—Guest performances at Hamburg—Joy of + return—Delight of her people—A welcome—Eighteen + performances—_Die Tochter des Regiments_ for soldiers—A + concert—Country life—Summons to the Court of Prussia _page_ 148 + + CHAPTER VIII. + IN PRESENCE OF THE QUEEN. + Her Majesty’s reception by the King and Queen of Prussia— + Inauguration of the statue of Beethoven at Bonn—Extract + from Herr Brockhaus’ diary—A sorrow—Jenny Lind sings at + the State Concerts—Mrs. Grote’s account—Meeting with Mr. + and Mrs. Grote at Frankfort—Mrs. Grote offers to intercede + with Mr. Bunn—Jenny’s wish to retire and her reasons—A + London journalist’s opinion of Jenny Lind’s personal + appearance and voice—Proposals for Vienna _page_ 153 + + CHAPTER IX. + WITH THE DANES. + For Charity—Letter to Madame Birch-Pfeiffer—Impressions of + Copenhagen—The Mind-World of the North—Hans Andersen’s + Verdict—The Bunn Contract _page_ 160 + + CHAPTER X. + THE RETURN TO BERLIN. + True friends—A brilliant season—“Donna Anna”—_Der + Freischütz_—First production—The _Berlinische Zeitung_ + upon Jenny Lind’s impersonation of “Agathe”—The Opera of + Nature—Jenny Lind’s devotion to Art—Self-depreciation— + Artistic position reviewed by Jenny Lind in letter to + Madame Erikson—Desire for retirement _page_ 168 + + CHAPTER XI. + AT THE GEWANDHAUS. + Letter to Herr Josephson—Jenny Lind’s opinion of + Mendelssohn—Reflex action—The two great Artists at + Leipzig—Great popular excitement—Free list suspended— + Indignation of the Students of the Conservatorium—Rush for + tickets—Miss Dolby—Herr Heinrich Brockhaus’ diary—The + note-book of Herr Edouard Brockhaus—Serenade and + presentation—Mendelssohn returns thanks for Jenny Lind _page_ 176 + + CHAPTER XII. + ‘DIE VESTALIN’ AND ‘DIE HUGENOTTEN.’ + “Julia” in _Die Vestalin_—Rellstab’s glowing panegyric—Jenny + Lind’s unerring dramatic instinct—Hans Christian Andersen— + An _al fresco_ toilette—An enthusiastic admirer—Andersen + and Jenny Lind at Weimar—Visit to the Fürstengruft—Verses + by Rollet—Visit to the Mendelssohn family at Leipzig— + Letter from Jenny to Andersen—Meyerbeer’s punctilious + regard for perfection of detail—_Personnel_ of the cast in + _Les Huguenots_—Rellstab’s criticism on Jenny Lind’s + “Valentine” _page_ 184 + + CHAPTER XIII. + AUF WIEDERSEHEN! + An unfortunate accident—General sympathy—Letter from + Mendelssohn—Three weeks’ imprisonment—Medallion portrait + modelled by Professor Wichmann—Portrait by Magnus— + Re-appearance of Jenny Lind in _Norma_—Benefit recorded by + Rellstab _page_ 192 + + + BOOK V.—PROGRESS. + + CHAPTER I. + THE DÉBUT AT VIENNA. + Visit to the Brockhaus family—Mendelssohn’s home-life— + Home-life of Professor Wichmann—Herr Ferdinand David— + Madame Schumann—Mendelssohn as an accompanist—In Vienna— + Madame Birch-Pfeiffer’s delineation of Jenny Lind’s + character—Mendelssohn’s letter to Herr Franz Hauser—The + “Theater an der Wien”—_Norma_—Timidity of Jenny Lind—Herr + Hauser’s reassurance—Success—Press notice of Jenny Lind’s + appearance—Strong party against Jenny Lind—Successful + appearance in _La Sonnambula_—Countless calls before the + curtain—Farther letters from Mendelssohn—Scheme for a + _libretto_ for Mendelssohn by Madame Birch-Pfeiffer— + Difficulties—_Die Ghibellinen in Pisa_—A wreath from the + Empress-Mother—An ovation—Accident to Jenny Lind’s + man-servant _page_ 198 + + CHAPTER II. + THE LOWER RHINE MUSICAL FESTIVAL. + Mendelssohn engaged on _Elijah_—Hauser’s estimate of Jenny + Lind—The Rhenish Festivals—_St. Paul_ in 1836—The present + festival at Aix-la-Chapelle—Consideration for an invalid + servant—Haydn’s _Creation_—The _Jenny Lind Fest_— + Mendelssohn’s and Geijer’s account of it—Departure from + Aachen—_Elijah_ on the eve of production _page_ 217 + + CHAPTER III. + THE CONTRACT WITH MR. LUMLEY. + The Drachenfels—Appearances at Hanover—Friendship with the + Royal Family—Second season at Hamburg—Overstrain—A short + holiday—_Elijah_ still unfinished—“Annotations-bok” of + Jenny Lind—Visit to Frankfort—Mrs. Grote and Mr. Lumley— + The Bunn Contract—English influences—Mr. Edward Lewin—Mr. + Lumley’s efforts—Mendelssohn’s introduction of Chorley— + Chorley’s impressions of Jenny Lind—Darmstadt—Lumley’s + trust in Mendelssohn’s influence—Mendelssohn’s letter in + support of Lumley’s endeavours—Engagement with Lumley + signed—Fresh endeavours to obtain a libretto—The Lumley + Contract _page_ 225 + + + BOOK VI.—WORK AND FRIENDS. + + CHAPTER I. + SOUTH GERMANY. + In Munich—The Kaulbachs—Letter from Mendelssohn objecting to + the Italian plan—_Concerts particuliers_—The + Birch-Pfeiffer _libretto_—“Susanna” in _Figaro_—Society at + the Kaulbachs—Stuttgart—Letter to Judge Munthe on London + engagement—Carlsruhe—Heidelberg—A Nuremberg medal—Return + to Munich—Haydn’s _Creation_ at Munich _page_ 237 + + CHAPTER II. + THE RETURN TO VIENNA. + Operas—_Marie, die Tochter des Regiments_—Portrait—The + _Wiener Zeitung_—The Schumanns—Madame Schumann’s Diary— + Concerts—Wilhelmina Neruda—Solicitude of Mendelssohn about + the Bunn Contract _page_ 247 + + CHAPTER III. + THE SHADOW. + Trio for voice and two flutes in _Vielka_—Fräulein Auguste + von Jaeger’s reminiscences—Radnitzky’s medal—Imperial + Kammersängerin—The Schumanns—Viardot Garcia—Mr. Bunn + adheres to the Contract—Terror of Jenny Lind—Reassurances + of Mendelssohn—Jenny Lind’s offer to Mr. Bunn—Last song at + Vienna _page_ 253 + + + BOOK VII.—SUPREMACY. + + CHAPTER I. + MANAGERIAL DIFFICULTIES. + The “_Vieille Garde_” of the Opera—Mr. Lumley in the field— + Lablache—Mr. Lumley’s only hope—Lablache’s estimate of + Jenny Lind—Mr. Lumley’s journey to Vienna—_Elijah_ at + Exeter Hall conducted by Mendelssohn—Mendelssohn’s Visit + to Mrs. Grote—Watching for Jenny Lind—Arrival—Appearance + in Mrs. Grote’s box at Her Majesty’s Theatre—Jenny Lind at + Mrs. Grote’s—Mendelssohn invites her to sing—Jenny Lind’s + nervousness—Second essay—Still diffident about public + appearance—Mrs. Grote’s home-thrust—Jenny Lind convinced— + Appoints rehearsal and chooses “Alice” in _Roberto_ _page_ 259 + + CHAPTER II. + THE TRIUMPH. + Public excitement—Crowded house—Entrance of Alice—The + _Terzetto_ and Mme. Goldschmidt’s interpretation of it— + Self-effacement—A true artist—The _Times’_ critique _page_ 265 + + CHAPTER III. + AT CLAIRVILLE. + Seclusion—A household word—A Broadside—Albert Smith’s + sketches—Jenny Lind’s accounts of her London _début_ and + description of her home—Mr. Bunn’s position—Her Italian + successful—Loving greeting to the Imperial city—Jenny + Lind’s large heart—Visiting the sick—Mr. Lumley saved _page_ 270 + + CHAPTER IV. + ‘LA SONNAMBULA,’ ‘LA FIGLIA DEL REGGIMENTO.’ + Royal attentions—The Duke of Wellington—A brilliant company— + Jenny Lind escapes—The new “Amina”—_Ah! non credea_—A + stage illusion—Jenny Lind’s thoroughness—Balfe’s tribute— + Lablache’s comment—New departure in _La Figlia_—Inspired + by Jenny Lind—The Priestess of Nature _page_ 277 + + CHAPTER V. + THE QUEEN’S STATE VISIT TO THE OPERA. + “Norma”—Attitude of the Press—A new reading—Opinions of the + Press—Mons. Roger—Opposing verdicts—Madame Grisi’s opinion _page_ 284 + + CHAPTER VI. + ‘LA TEMPESTA,’ ‘I MASNADIERI.’ + The _libretto_ an obstacle—Mendelssohn dissatisfied with + Scribe’s _Tempest_—Verdi—First performance of _I + Masnadieri_ based upon Schiller’s _Die Räuber_ _page_ 287 + + CHAPTER VII. + ‘LE NOZZE DI FIGARO.’ + Versatility of Mdlle. Lind’s genius—Mozart’s music—The + comedy of Beaumarchais—Rigorous exactitude of Mdlle. Lind— + An electrical effect—Musical example _page_ 290 + + CHAPTER VIII. + BY COMMAND OF THE QUEEN. + Royal concerts—Swedish songs—Lablache “_wie ein Vater_”—King + Leopold—Where the English heart was won—An inestimable + privilege _page_ 294 + + CHAPTER IX. + IN THE PROVINCES. + The summer of 1847—Burnham Beeches—Horse exercise—Wimbledon + Park—Mr. Lumley’s fête at Putney—Tea and supper at + Clairville—Jenny Lind entertaining—Moods—In the provinces— + English tour concluded—Mrs. Grote’s account—Mr. Edward + Lewin—At Norwich—Invitation to the Bishop’s Palace— + Choristers’ privileges—Letter from A. P. Stanley—An + independent witness—Departure from England—On board the + Packet—A last adieu _page_ 298 + + + BOOK VIII.—THE GOAL. + + CHAPTER I. + NEW TRIUMPHS AT BERLIN. + Farewell at the Opera-House—At Sans Souci—Royal + Kammersängerin—The King’s letter—Hamburg—Stockholm _page_ 308 + + CHAPTER II. + HOME AGAIN. + Love of England—Philanthropic plans—Jenny Lind’s published + letter in explanation of these plans—Voice in full + splendour—Operatic performances—Concerts—“Norma” her last + Swedish performance on the stage—The Bunn verdict—Home— + Sympathy between Jenny Lind and Mendelssohn—His death—Fund + for the Theatre School—Engagement to Herr Julius Günther— + Departure—Retrospect _page_ 313 + + CHAPTER III. + THE RE-APPEARANCE AT HER MAJESTY’S THEATRE. + _La Sonnambula_—Clairville—The fourth of May—Chopin at the + Opera—Chopin’s _Matinées_—Jenny Lind’s enthusiasm for + Chopin’s works—First appearance of Jenny Lind as “Lucia”— + Analysis and critique—Lablache and Jenny Lind in _L’Elisir + d’Amore_—Success of Jenny Lind in _I Puritani_—_Qui la + voce_—The _Cadenza_—Critique—Her Majesty and the Prince + Consort constant auditors—Mr. Lumley’s profits _page_ 324 + + CHAPTER IV. + THE CONCERT FOR THE BROMPTON HOSPITAL. + Retirement at Clairville—Herr Berg and family—Trusted + friends—Thalberg—Mr. and Mrs. S. C. Hall—The Brompton + Hospital—Mr. Otto Goldschmidt plays at the Concert in its + behalf—Her visit to the Hospital—The “Jenny Lind Gallery”— + Memorial salver—Panegyric by Mr. Disraeli—A long line of + noble deeds inaugurated _page_ 330 + + CHAPTER V. + ‘ELIJAH.’ + Letter to Frau von Kaulbach—“In memory of Mendelssohn”— + “_Tournée_ in the Provinces”—_La Figlia_ at Brighton— + Roger’s account of it—Benefit concert for her Orchestra— + Soirée to the band—Address and healths proposed by Jenny + Lind—Return to London—A worthy monument to Mendelssohn—The + Soprano part of _Elijah_ written for Jenny Lind’s voice— + Performance of _Elijah_ at Exeter Hall—_Times’_ critique— + The Mendelssohn Scholarships permanently established _page_ 336 + + CHAPTER VI. + FOR CHARITY. + Concerts at Manchester—Birmingham—Yule-Tide at Manchester— + Liverpool—Second visit to Norwich—The concerts—The Jenny + Lind Infirmary for Sick Children—Concert for Balfe’s + benefit—Worcester Royal Infirmary—£10,000 for charity—The + _Creation_ at Exeter Hall—_Times’_ critique—Liberality of + Jenny Lind _page_ 342 + + CHAPTER VII. + THE LAST OPERA. + Doubts and perplexities—“The Grand Classical Concerts”—A + mistake—Reparation—General emotion—Six performances—Her + Majesty and the Prince Consort—“For the last time”—A + delicate memorial _page_ 348 + + CHAPTER VIII. + THE “METHOD.” + A _soprano drammatico_—Compass—The various registers—Art of + blending—Signor Garcia’s success—Veiled tone of middle + notes—The F♯︎—The _pianissimo_—The natural voice—Diligent + practice—Voice not naturally flexible—The reward of + labour—The shake—The method of breathing—The _messa di + voce_—Articulation—Incessant practice—Two interesting + letters—Singing as a beneficial exercise for the chest— + Summary of eleven years’ operatic work _page_ 355 + + CHAPTER IX. + FRIENDS IN ENGLAND. + Home of the heart—Of her adoption—The Grotes—Mr. Edward + Lewin—The Bishop of Norwich and Mrs. Stanley—Mary and + Arthur Penrhyn Stanley—“Jenny Lind’s smile”—A letter from + Tasmania—A Swedish Bible—Mrs. Stanley’s report to her + sister—Mme. Salis Schwabe—Baroness and Miss French _page_ 366 + + + BOOK IX.—FRUITION. + + CHAPTER I. + WHY DID JENNY LIND LEAVE THE STAGE? + A dramatic genius—The moment of recoil—Reasons—Mrs. Grote’s + views—Tired—The hope of tranquillity—Love of home—Scheme + for endowment of the Theatre School—Second London season—A + crisis—Engagement to Herr Günther broken—A proposal— + Clashing standpoints—Ruin awaits old friends—Mr. Nassau + Senior—A pledge redeemed—Release—To Paris and Mrs. Grote— + “Tired to the very bones” _page_ 376 + + CHAPTER II. + WANDERINGS AT EASE. + Tale of singing birds—Song from Spontini’s _Vestale_—At the + Swedish Embassy—Death of Catalani—Rest enjoined—A visit to + Mme. Mendelssohn—A grape cure—America on the horizon—Mr. + Goldschmidt’s concert at Hamburg—To Berlin—Royal + invitation to Stockholm—Letter from King Oscar I. _page_ 393 + + CHAPTER III. + LÜBECK. + An English letter from Jenny Lind—Plan for going to Russia + negatived—American tour—Barnum—His liberality—Destination + of the American earnings—Mr. Benedict and Signor Belletti— + Children’s ball at Lübeck—Mr. Goldschmidt—Hanover—The + Queen of Hanover’s recollections—Excitement at Göttingen— + The Burschenschaft Hannovera—At Berlin—Letter from Prof. + Jüngken—Herr Rellstab’s tribute—Lieder—The last air of + “Susanna”—Hamburg and Mme. Schumann’s diary—Jenny Lind’s + aversion to “Society”—Enthusiasm for Schumann’s songs—Last + “notes” of Jenny Lind “An den Sonnenschein”—Munificence to + the Students’ Union at Lund—A bracelet from the Court of + Berlin—Religious impressions _page_ 402 + + CHAPTER IV. + HOME ONCE MORE. + With the “Gauthiod”—The _Daily Allehanda_—Fröken von + Stedingk’s record—A bunch of forget-me-nots—Presentation + of medal struck in her honour—Address—Medals, a legacy to + the National Museum, Stockholm—Singing in the St. Clara + Kyrka _page_ 428 + + CHAPTER V. + DEPARTURE. + Liverpool Philharmonic Society—Two concerts—Jenny Lind at + rehearsal—_Messiah_, her first singing of the Soprano part + in England—Great excitement—Her Swedish heart—The old + folks at home—A hurried departure—A royal progress down + the river—Westward Ho!—American triumphs—Oratorio a + congenial field—Letter to parents—To her guardian Herr + Munthe—Milk soup and a wooden spoon—Death of Fru Lind— + Retrospect of a devoted daughter—Word portrait by Mr. + Parker Willis—Lady beggars—“Good night” _page_ 432 + + LAST WORDS. + Later Art-life of Madame Goldschmidt—Her death _page_ 448 + + + + + LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS. + + + CROELIUS, JENNY LIND’S FIRST SINGING MASTER _page_ 14 + FACSIMILE PAGE OF ENGAGEMENT BOOK _To face page_ 228 + JENNY LIND IN THE CHARACTER OF “MARIA” IN _La Figlia + del Reggimento_ _To face page_ 248 + JENNY LIND IN THE CHARACTER OF “ALICE” IN _Roberto + il Diavolo_ _page_ 267 + JENNY LIND IN THE CHARACTER OF “AMINA” IN _La + Sonnambula_ _page_ 279 + JENNY LIND IN THE CHARACTER OF “NORMA” _To face page_ 318 + MADEMOISELLE LIND, FROM A DAGUERROTYPE BY KILBURN, + AUGUST 1850 _To face page_ 434 + WYND’S POINT, MALVERN HILLS, MADAME GOLDSCHMIDT’S + COUNTRY HOME IN WHICH SHE SPENT MUCH OF THE LAST + YEARS OF HER LIFE, AND IN WHICH SHE DIED, NOVEMBER + 1887 _page_ 462 + + + + + JENNY LIND,—THE ARTIST. + + + + + BOOK I. + ANTICIPATION. + + + + + CHAPTER I. + INTRODUCTION. + + +Jenny Lind—the name carries music with it to English ears. The memory is +very tender and fragrant of her who, to our joy, found, for so long, a +home among us. And yet it may well be questioned whether we English have +even yet formed an adequate estimate of her gifts and character. + +For what is it which we have in our minds as we recall her name? It is, +first, some tale of the wonderful days when all London went mad over her +singing. We have heard people tell, as their eyes kindle with the old +passionate delight, how she came tripping over the stage in the +_Figlia_, and how the liquid notes came rippling off her lips. We hear +of the hours they waited in the historic crush at the Opera in the +Haymarket; of the feverish energy with which they toiled to catch one +glimpse of her passing. We remember, with a smile, some picture in an +old copy of _Punch_, or the _Illustrated London News_, of scenes in the +opera passages on a Jenny Lind night. + +And then we add to this memory of that surpassing triumph, the thought +of one whose purity and simplicity won all hearts to love the girl who, +in the hour of her overwhelming success, remembered others rather than +herself, and poured out her money in charities, and devoted her +marvellous gifts to the relief of poverty and the healing of pain. + +That is our English picture, and it is good and pleasant enough; and it +is quite true, so far as it goes. But it is strangely imperfect and +fragmentary. It assumes that her operatic career is to be identified +with the brief passage of those London seasons, and that her fame is a +private possession of our own here in England, where she lived and died. +There prevails no general conception that the English visits were but +the latter episodes of a long dramatic experience—an experience which +had begun, with extraordinary promise, before she had passed out of her +childhood, and which had already won to her the same enthusiasm which +greeted her in England, not only in her own Swedish home and in the +kindred capital, Copenhagen, but in the great musical centres of +Germany—Berlin, the Rhine, Leipzig, Munich, and Vienna. + +Nor was it only the enthusiasm of the general public for a most +beautiful voice, which had been already given her; but it was the +authoritative chiefs of the musical art who had signalised in her the +arrival not only of an exquisite singer, but of a supreme and unique +artist. The admiration for Jenny Lind was not a mere popular fever, such +as has now and again followed the steps of some favourite of the opera. +Its peculiar force lay in this—that it held enthralled the highest and +best minds in Europe. It was the men of genius who recognised in her +something akin to themselves. In her native land it had been those who +dominated in the musical and literary world who were drawn to sing, and +write, and talk of her—Geijer, historian and poet; Lindblad, the +“Schubert of Sweden”; Bishop Thomander, Fredrika Bremer, Topelius. At +Copenhagen it is the chief artists and poets, and writers and sculptors +of the day who are profoundly sensitive to her influence—Jensen, Hans +Andersen, Thorwaldsen, Melbye, Œhlenschläger. In Berlin it is Meyerbeer, +who can talk of nothing else but this marvellous Swedish girl. In London +it is Moscheles, who writes, “What shall I say of Jenny Lind? It is +impossible to find words adequate to describe the impression she has +produced. This is no short-lived fit of public enthusiasm. So much +modesty and so much greatness united are seldom, if ever, to be met +with.” It is Thalberg, Taubert, Schumann, who welcome her into the elect +company of the masters, “who know.” It is Tieck and Kaulbach at Berlin, +it is Grillparzer at Vienna, who are her friends and her hosts. And, +finally, it is Mendelssohn himself, who, as will be seen in the letters +that follow, is fascinated by her personality, and feels all his gifts +roused in him to compose something worthy of her, and is eager and on +fire to put out all his power in an opera which she may sing, and bends +before her judgment as to his own place and career, and delights to +share with her the deepest motives and convictions with which he sets to +work at the _Elijah_. Does not our picture of the Haymarket crush rather +fade into insignificance as a standard of Jenny Lind’s position as an +artist when we recall the high notes of the soprano in the _Elijah_, +giving out the cry of Seraphim to Seraphim, “Holy, holy, holy, Lord God +of Sabaoth,” and remember that it was with her image before him that +Mendelssohn wrote that music—that it was to catch the peculiar beauty +which he loved in her voice that the high F sharps ring out so +appealingly in the “Hear ye, Israel?” And have we at all realised that +she was one of whom he could say, “She is as great an artist as ever +lived; and the greatest I have known”?[2] + +The question that we have put was one which her visible presence would +at once suggest. Surely those who first saw her in much later life must +have instinctively felt a jar between the popular ideal and the +realisation; not that she was less than their expectation, but that she +was so much more than the general report tended to convey. They had come +to be introduced to her, murmuring perhaps to themselves some air from +the _Sonnambula_, or the _Figlia_, with which her early fame was +associated; but the air was forgotten when they found themselves in her +presence; that strong and solemn face, with its deep lines and grey +pathetic eyes, with its grave dignity, with its serious exultation—what +had this face in common with an opera of Donizetti? Charm, animation, +lightness, grace—these, no doubt, she had at command, and she could brim +over with gaiety and humour; but not in these lay the impression she +produced—not here was the dominant note struck. Rather one felt oneself +to be facing a character of emphatic force and vigorous outlines—a +character that it was difficult to imagine curbed within the +conventional artificialities of the Italian drama. It had far more of +the impressive pose of a powerful tragedienne. Even the name of “Jenny +Lind” seemed to be inadequate to the occasion. It is a name which +English lips caress with affection, having in it the sense and sound of +some homely and endearing diminutive. But here, one felt, was something +more than affectionate diminutives could express; something more than a +delicious singer; something more, even, than the pure and simple and +beneficent woman. All this there certainly was, but with it and above it +was that which startles and quells and even alarms—something of a rare +and majestic type, which broke through the ordinary layers which encrust +and imprison our average human life; a character solitary and distinct, +dowered with strange intensity, retaining its free original spontaneity, +drawing ever on its own resources, independent and somewhat contemptuous +of those external tests and standards by which the mass of men guide +their hesitating judgments. Susceptible, indeed, she was, as an artist +must be, to outside influence and atmosphere, but her individuality had +not succumbed, or lost its sharp and unique distinction under this +liability to sensitive impression; it had never yielded to the grinding +years. It retained, obviously and undeniably, the rarity and the +grandeur of genius; and all who had eyes to see knew, at a glance, that +here before them was a pilgrim-soul, aloof and uplifted, + + “One of the small transfigured band, + Whom the world cannot tame.” + +It is to justify this high estimate of her powers and gifts that this +book is written. It starts from the level of Mendelssohn’s judgment of +her. If, indeed, she was the greatest musical artist that he had ever +known, it is well worth while to ask whence her capacities took their +rise, what was their artistic development, what are the special notes +and features which were most characteristic of her genius. The book +proposes to respond to such questions as these; and, with this end in +view, after lightly tracing the records of her birth and early infancy, +it offers a sketch of her dramatic career from the year 1829–30, when +she first passed within the doors of the theatre, to the year 1850–51, +when, after having bade farewell to the stage for ever, she signalised +her new position by her triumphant passage to the New World beyond the +Atlantic. Within those full twenty years she was a Child of the Drama in +an intimate and peculiar sense. Within that time she won the experience, +under the pressure of which the gifts with which she was endowed +received their impress, and moved forward to their perfection. By the +close of those years she had gained everything that gave its unique +character to her artistic genius; for, not only had she proved her +complete mastery over all the manifold opportunities and material of the +operatic stage, but she had already, in earlier days, by her singing of +selections from the _Creation_, and the _Seasons_, and more especially +by her marvellous rendering of the soprano part in the _Elijah_, in +London, on behalf of the Mendelssohn Scholarships, on December 15th, +1848, attested her supremacy in that domain of art which was so +singularly congenial both to her special capacities and to her spirited +temper, and through which she was, in after years, to carry such a high +message to her hearers—the domain of sacred Oratorio. + +Those twenty years, then, contain the secret of her growth as an artist. +The years that followed, besides the splendid opportunities which they +brought her of exercising the powers which were already matured, added, +also, to this, much which matured and deepened the woman’s inward +history—added the good gifts which she herself had, by hard necessity, +most pitifully lacked in her early days—the gifts of tender domestic +love, of watchful devotion—the background of warmth and confidence which +belongs to home, and husband, and children. All this would, for herself, +measured by her own balances, be of priceless worth in the estimation of +her life, and for those who knew and loved her, it would be of +inexhaustible interest. But it is the _artistic_ life, alone, of an +artist, over which the world has a positive and undeniable claim. An +artist is, in a sense, public property; his or her art makes direct +appeal to public judgment; it offers itself as a public endowment to the +world at large. Its development, its movements, its story, are public +facts. And it is due to mankind, when it gives to an artist a generous +and unstinted welcome, that it should know the peculiar growth and +training, the advantages and the perplexities, the hindrances and the +helps, through which that gift, which was at last so triumphant, won its +slow way forward out of darkness into light. Such a story may not be +without profit, if it aids men to understand how better to cherish and +foster those germs of genius which are to be found scattered in such +strange freedom, amid conditions which seem least calculated to rear +them in hardihood and grace. And, certainly, the tale of Jenny Lind may +well be told for the sake of bearing splendid witness, to all those who +feel themselves stirred by some inherent native power, of the +unconquerable force with which a pure and strong individuality, if it be +true to the inner light and loyal to the outward call, can dominate +circumstances, however harsh and rude, and can, with a single eye on the +far goal of artistic perfection, and upheld by faith in God, move +straight to its aim with an unswerving and irresistible security, +shaping its passage, amid pitfalls and snares, over this perilous earth +with a motion as free and sure and faithful as a star that passes, in +unhindered obedience, over the steady face of heaven. + +Nor will it be without significant interest that those twenty years +begin with her earliest attachment to the Royal Theatre in her own home +city of Stockholm, and end with her tribute-gifts, made out of her +wonderful winnings, as thank-offerings to that theatre and home to which +her heart had so often and so tenderly turned. The years of her main +artistic growth are those in which, whatever her successes elsewhere, +Swedish influences dominated her life. It was from the Swedish stage +that she derived all her dramatic training. It was Swedish literature, +Swedish literary men, who first made her sensitive to the high motives +that were at work within her. It was in their company, under their +encouragement, that she learned the truth and power of her own spiritual +promptings. It was to carry back to her beloved Stockholm the rich +fruits of her Parisian discipline that she toiled in exile. And even +though, as an artist could not but do, she felt her spirit expand when +she found herself taken into the full sweep of the musical forces at a +great centre like Berlin, still her Swedish heart beat true to the old +home-country, and it was out of her innermost self that she bent +herself, as soon as the currents of her public triumph carried her far +abroad, to the sweet task of securing for Sweden, out of the gains that +Europe and America poured into her lap, records and pledges of her +faithful remembrance of the needs and necessities of her own people, and +her fatherland. + + + + + CHAPTER II. + CHILDHOOD. + + +“A Child of the Drama”—so we have named her—and not without reason; for +it was within the shelter of the Royal Theatre at Stockholm that she +first found the comfortable warmth of a steady and a tender home, in +which her child-heart, with its intense affections, could freely and +candidly expand. She was hardly ten years old when she came under the +guardianship of the Royal Theatre; and throughout those nine early +years, she was a forlorn little pilgrim, often passed about through the +hands of strangers, and pitifully deprived of that deep security which a +fixed and stable home-life inbreeds in us through its traditional +sanctities and immemorial kindnesses. + +Her birth, which took place in the parish of St. Clara, in Stockholm, on +October 6th, 1820, found both her parents somewhat under difficulties. +Her father, Niclas Jonas Lind, son of a lace-manufacturer, seems to have +been able to do little or nothing towards providing a home for mother +and child. He was very young, only twenty-two years old; he had, through +lack of energy, failed to continue his father’s business, and at this +time, kept the ledgers at a private merchant’s house; in virtue of which +office he is entered as “Accountant” in the church register at the +baptism of his little daughter, who was christened, on the day after her +birth, with the name “Johanna Maria.” + +Such a post would, no doubt, bring him in but little; and perhaps he was +not very likely to make the most of what he got. For he was +good-naturedly weak; much given to music of a free and convivial kind, +such as was widely popular in Sweden at that day. Mr. Lind had a good +voice, and took an eager part in these musical festivities. Such a life, +it will be easily understood, does not tend to foster steadiness or +thrift; and he was perfectly unable to provide mother and child with +either lodging or board, though he probably contributed to it in some +slender way. All the practical management had to be left to the energy +and determination of the mother, who was, at the time, making her own +way through the world under conditions which were not favourable to a +baby’s entry on the scene. + +She was, herself, of very respectable burgher-stock. Her maiden name had +been Anna Maria Fellborg; but she had been first married, in 1810, at +the age of eighteen, to a Captain Rådberg. Her marriage had proved very +unhappy, owing to the bad character of the husband; and after about +eighteen months she obtained a divorce from him in the High +Ecclesiastical Court, the Court assigning to her, in decisive +recognition of her husband’s misconduct, the custody of a little +daughter who had been born to them, called Amelia Maria Constantia, +together with aliment to the amount of half Rådberg’s income, whatever +that might be. She was thus thrown upon her own unaided exertions; but +she was a woman of great force of character, well-educated for her +circumstances, resolute not to be beaten. She got along, in one way or +another, chiefly by means of education; and in 1820, at Jenny’s birth, +was keeping a day-school for girls, one or two of whom she also boarded; +it was one of these little boarders, nine years older than Jenny, who +became afterwards so helpful to her as companion and friend—Louise +Johansson, whose name will frequently recur in the course of our story. + +A baby would be, no doubt, a most tiresome inconvenience in the +management of such a household; and so her mother seems to have placed +the child, at once, under the care of Carl Ferndal, who was organist and +parish clerk of the church at Ed-Sollentuna, some fifteen English miles +out of Stockholm. She was tended by this man and his wife for about +three years, her mother visiting her, it seems, at intervals, and +spending with her the summer of 1821. Owing to some dispute with the +clerk, she took Jenny back in 1824, probably in the early part of the +year, to Stockholm; but it is possible to believe that those early years +in Sollentuna were not without some influence on the child’s character, +for they seem to have woke up in her, from the very start, that innate +and instinctive sense of the country which was so noticeable in her. The +instinct itself is, indeed, native to the Swedes, for whom “the country” +is a passion; and this national characteristic held, in her, a +deep-rooted dominion. Somehow, one felt, in her company, as if she had +come out of the country. She was in close touch with all that belongs to +a simple peasantry. She knew the tones of its songs; and the rhythm of +its dances; its simplicity, its charm, its pathos—all were hers. +Something of its native depth and dignity seemed to have passed into +her. She ever felt herself at home in the country; she breathed there +freely; she revelled in its wild flowers, in contrast with cultivated +garden-flowers for which she had little love. She had an intense delight +in the songs of wild-birds, with whose ways and habits she had intimate +acquaintance. She enjoyed, especially, the expanse of wide waters. She +delighted to be at large; she hated crowds, and the pressure of a city, +and the unresting stir of society. She did not desire the constant +company of many fellow-creatures; the town-instincts did not draw her. +Her need of music might bring her to live there where she could best +satisfy it; but her heart was, naturally, away in country-scenes, where +men were not too thick and near; and where God seems closer; and where +the soul can feed its own high thoughts, somewhat aloof and alone, +unfretted by man’s insistent noise. Yet, after these first four years, +she was brought up altogether in a city, winning the sight of the +country only in her holidays. Something, surely, sank down very deep +into the tiny baby, as she toddled in and out of the clerk’s house, in +the village of Sollentuna—something, which made her at home, ever, amid +trees and fields—and something which was still strong in her to the end, +linking the first days in the Swedish village to those last hours when +she waited for her death, hid in the English home, where she had made +for herself a refuge of peace, amid the sweet solitude of the Malvern +hills. + +Back, however, to Stockholm, she was then quickly brought; and there, in +her home, she, most likely, found a new arrival in the person of Fru +Tengmark, her grandmother on her mother’s side, now in her second +widowhood, who had, hitherto, lived with one of her daughters, Fru +Perman, at Östersund, in the north of Sweden, but who had now come to +press her claim for admittance into a certain Home for the Widows of +Stockholm burghers, an established and endowed institution of some +importance in Stockholm. Already, in 1822, the old lady had put in her +plea that she was unable, at an age which made employment impossible, to +save herself, by her own efforts, from need; but it was not until 19th +August, 1824, that rooms were finally allotted to her. Jenny, therefore, +it would appear, found her at her mother’s house; and she seems to have +received from Fru Tengmark a more kindly and appreciative treatment than +it was in her mother’s nature to bestow upon her. She always spoke of +her grandmother with strong admiration and affection. Above all, she +took in from her a profound impression of religion; and it was to her +that, in after years, she was accustomed to trace back those spiritual +influences which became the very soul of her life. + +[Illustration: Vintage printed sheet music in treble clef showing +several lines of a melody with quarter and eighth notes on aged paper.] + +It was the grandmother who was the first to detect the musical gifts of +the child; and this detection left a profound impression on the child +herself, as if she, too, then first made a discovery of what was in her +through the surprise which she found herself producing in others. The +story formed her earliest distinct memory. Coming up from the country to +the town, she was struck by the music of the military bugles that daily +past through the street; and one day when she fancied herself alone in +the house she crept to the piano on which her half-sister used to +practise her music, and, with one finger, strummed out for herself the +fanfare which she had caught from the soldiers. But the grandmother was +at hand, and, hearing the music, called out the name of the half-sister, +whom she supposed it to be; and little Jenny, in terror at being found +out, hid under the square piano; she was so small that she fitted in +perfectly; and the grandmother, getting no answer to her calls, came in +to look, and presently discovered her, and dragged her out, and was +astonished, and said, “Child, was that you?” and Jenny, in tears at her +crime, confessed; but the grandmother looked at her deeply, and in +silence; and when the mother came back she told her, and said: “Mark my +words, that child will bring you help.” And, after that, the neighbours +used to be called in to hear her play. As she told the story in later +years, she would reproduce most vividly the frightened look of the child +creeping away to hide; and the significant look of the wonder-struck +grandmother as she took in that it was indeed the tiny creature of three +years old who had played the tune. She never forgot the historic +“fanfare”; and, as the earliest signal of her after-career, it is given +in the form in which she herself committed it to the memory of her +daughter. + +At this day-school Jenny continued with her mother, for three or four +years; but, at last, the only boarder, Louise Johansson, was taken away, +and her mother found herself hard pressed for funds. She determined to +go out as governess; and, perhaps with this intention, answered an +advertisement stating that a certain childless couple were anxious to +have a child to take care of. It turned out that this couple lived in +the very same Widows’ Home, in which Fru Tengmark had rooms, the man +being the Guardian or Steward of the Home—a thoroughly comfortable and +respectable position, by right of which he occupied the Lodge at the +gate. This all seemed to fall in admirably, as Jenny would have the +companionship of her favourite relation. So thither she was sent, +probably in the year 1828; and her mother retired from Stockholm and +took a place as governess, in Linköping, carrying with her her daughter +Amalia Rådberg to help her in her educational work. + +For a year and more she lived in the Widows’ Home, but there is nothing +recorded of her life there until we come to the famous incident which +brought about her removal, and which fixed, for ever, the lines of her +future career. It came about in this fashion. “As a child I sang with +every step I took, and with every jump my feet made.” So she herself +records in her letter to the editor of the ‘Swedish Biographical +Lexicon,’ written in 1865;[3] and, apparently one of the forms which the +perpetual song took was addressed to a cat, “with a blue ribbon round +its neck,” of which she was very fond. The rest of the story shall be +given in her own words as they were taken down by her eldest son, to +whom she told it at Cannes in the spring of 1887:—Her favourite seat +with her cat was in the window of the Steward’s rooms, which look out on +the lively street leading up to the Church of St. Jacob’s, and there she +sat and sang to it; and the people passing in the street used to hear, +and wonder; and amongst others the maid of a Mdlle. Lundberg, a dancer +at the Royal Opera House; and the maid told her mistress that she had +never heard such beautiful singing as this little girl sang to her cat. +Mdlle. Lundberg thereupon found out who she was, and sent to ask her +mother, who seems to have been in Stockholm at the time, to bring her to +sing to her. And, when she heard her sing, she said, “The child is a +genius; you must have her educated for the stage.” But Jenny’s mother, +as well as her grandmother, had an old-fashioned prejudice against the +stage; and she would not hear of this. “Then you must, at any rate, have +her taught singing,” said Mdlle. Lundberg; and the mother was persuaded, +in this way, to accept a letter of introduction to Herr Croelius, the +Court Secretary and Singing-master, at the Royal Theatre. Off with the +letter they started; but, as they went up the broad steps of the Opera +House, the mother was again troubled by her doubts and repugnance. She, +no doubt, had all the inherited dislike of the burgher families to the +dramatic life. But little Jenny eagerly urged her to go on; and they +entered the room where Croelius sat. And the child sang him something +out of an opera composed by Winter. Croelius was moved to tears and said +that he must take her in to Count Puke, the head of the Royal Theatre, +and tell him what a treasure he had found. And they went at once; and +Comte Puke’s first question was, “How old is she?” and Croelius +answered, “Nine years old.” “Nine!” exclaimed the Count; “but this is +not a _crèche_! It is the King’s Theatre!” And he would not look at her, +she being, moreover, at that time what she herself (in her letter to the +‘Biographical Lexicon’) calls “a small, ugly, broad-nosed, shy, gauche, +under-grown girl!” “Well,” said Croelius, “if the Count will not hear +her, then I will teach her gratuitously myself, and she will one day +astonish you!” Then Count Puke consented to hear her sing; and, when she +sang, he too was moved to tears; and, from that moment, she was +accepted; and was taken, and taught to sing, and educated, and brought +up at the Government expense. + +So she told the crucial event in her life in her own graphic manner. +Those stairs were to become familiar enough to the little feet which +then first felt them. Up that broad flight she stepped on to the +platform on which, for twenty years to come, she was to live out her +life, and win her unexampled victories. As she pulled at her mother’s +unwilling hand that day, she took the step which determined her whole +destiny. + +For, radical as her mother’s dislike might be to the stage, yet fate, on +the one hand, was too strong for her, and, on the other, she was pressed +sorely by her straitened means. Croelius and Count Puke were not going +to let their new-found treasure slip through their hands. They made an +immediate offer to relieve the mother of all direct responsibility for +her child’s maintenance and education; they proposed to adopt her into +the School of Pupils, which was attached to the Royal Theatre, looking +to repay the expenses, which they risked, through the after-success +which they anticipated. It was a generous proposal; it came at a moment +of pressure when it was almost impossible to refuse the opportunity of +relief; and the mother yielded. To her it still seemed an act by which, +in her own words, used afterwards to the Directors of the theatre, she +was “sacrificing her own child to the stage.” But circumstances were +unfortunate, and she could not but agree. So Jenny passed over from the +Widows’ Home to become a little nursling of the Drama; and the world +owes a debt of genuine gratitude to the Directors of the Theatre Royal +for so quick and bold a recognition of the wonderful gift which lay hid +in that tiny body. Rare, indeed, in the annals of art is it that the +official authorities are so swift in their appreciation of strange and +exceptional genius or so ready to make a venture on its behalf. And the +chief honour, in a deed most honourable to all concerned, must lie with +Herr Croelius. It was his insight that saw what there was in the “shy, +gauche, and ugly, under-grown girl;” it was his courage that laid +compulsion on the natural unwillingness of Count Puke. “The person,” she +herself wrote in the letter we have already quoted to the editor of the +‘Biographical Lexicon,’ “whom alone I have to thank for the first +discernment of my gift of song was the Court Secretary Croelius, +Singing-master at the Theatre Royal. He told me all that which in later +years came to pass.” His kindly features, quaint and dignified, are +recorded in the accompanying sketch, on which she herself, long +afterwards, wrote her witness to the goodness of him who was “the first +to discern her gifts,” and whose insight and courage determined her +career. + +[Illustration: Black-and-white engraved profile portrait of a +19th-century man facing left, with handwritten inscription reading +‘Croelius, my first dear old singing master’ and a note referencing a +performance at the Royal Theatre of Stockholm, 1829.] + +So closes her early childhood. Hitherto she has sung as Nature bade her, +singing to herself, singing to her cat, singing “at every step and jump +which she made with her baby feet.” Something, indeed, she may have +caught from her mother, who was qualified to teach music, and from her +half-sister and the day-pupils who used to practise on the piano on +which Jenny made her first famous experiment; and she would have heard +her father, who used to come in the evening and sing, while her mother +played the guitar, when the little one lay probably in bed. And, even at +Sollentuna, she would have listened, in baby-wonder, to Ferndal as he +played his organ in the church. But her young life had been, as we have +seen, strangely wandering, chequered, and untutored, and nearly +everything she had must have come from her own instinctive spontaneity. +She was now to pass at this tiny age into a school devoted to the drama, +under the definite training and discipline of skilled masters in music. +The little foundling of Nature was henceforward to become the child of +Art. + + + + + CHAPTER III. + PUPILAGE. + + +The Royal Theatre, at Stockholm, into which Jenny Lind passed in the +September of 1830, was to be, for the next ten years, the scene and +centre of her life. In it she found a nursery for her child-talent; a +school to direct her entire development; a playground in which she +tasted the delights of companionship; a home, which watched over her +with fatherly interest and authority; a stage on which she was greeted +with unstinted appreciation. It became, for this spell of years, the +pivot of all her efforts, the focus of all her associations and hopes, +the environment within which all her gifts opened and discovered +themselves. + +The theatre was subsidised from the Royal Civil List, and was directed +and controlled by the office of the Lord Chamberlain. Its chief officer +was a Royal Director (Intendant), under whom, among other officials, was +the Chief of the Singing Department. The first office was occupied, at +the time of Jenny’s entry, by Count Puke; while the second was filled by +Herr Croelius, who was dignified with the title of Court Secretary. The +official finances came under the supervision of Herr Forsberg, an +official in the War Office, who was charged with the honorary +superintendence of the Theatre-School. He took an almost fatherly +interest in Jenny Lind; and she retained an intimate and affectionate +friendship with his family, until her death. + +The theatre stands in the heart of Stockholm, close to the Norrbro +(North Bridge), overlooking the wide basin of the Norrström: it is a +large, handsome building, facing the street known as the Gustaf Adolf’s +Torg, with its basement and double stories, on the second of which, in +fine and airy rooms, was housed the School of Girls attached to the +theatre, into which Jenny was now introduced, herself the very youngest +of all, as we may gather from Count Puke’s complaint that Croelius was +treating the theatre as if “it were a _crèche_.” + +The “Directors of the Royal Theatre,” as its authorities were called, +were in the habit of boarding out the pupils at some certified home, or +homes, in the town, under the charge of some lady with whom the theatre +made terms for food, lodging, and educational supervision. And, here, we +come to a rather curious arrangement, which might, if it had been +happily carried out, have combined, most fortunately, Jenny’s new +conditions with her natural home-relations. Her mother had moved back to +Stockholm just before Jenny’s entry at the theatre: she had taken, in +the spring of 1830, a flat in No. 4 Quarteret Hammaren, in the +Jakobsbergsgata. Had she taken it for the very purpose of boarding the +pupils of the theatre? It is impossible to say: but, certainly, this +parish of St. Jacob is close at hand; and, very soon after her return, +she appears to have been intrusted by the Directors with some of their +boarders; and, among them, probably, her own little daughter. Indeed, +this is made almost certain by the fact that Jenny’s very earliest +recollection of the Theatre-School, as she often told her daughter, was +her running to the school, to keep herself warm, in the cold winter +mornings, dressed in the vivid smart colours, which her mother and +half-sister loved, and which she so hated that she used to pull the +bright feathers out of her bonnet as soon as she was out of sight of +home. At last, in 1833, the affair took shape in a legal contract, drawn +up between the “Directors” and Jenny’s mother. The conditions of the +bond are most precise. They begin by stating that they have, already, +since April, 1832, been paying for[4] “Jenny Lind’s board and +education,” and that, through the progress she has made since then, they +have “formed the best hopes of her usefulness for the theatrical +profession,” and that they “desire to attach this young talent, by more +definite conditions, to the Royal Theatre.” They wish, therefore, to +close a contract with her mother, with the terms of which, as they +carefully insert, “Jenny Lind has declared herself satisfied.” The child +is to be received in the capacity of “actress-pupil at the Royal +Theatre”; and cannot, without the consent of the Directors, be released +from her engagement until she have, through her after-efforts, “made +restitution for the care and expense bestowed on her education.” + +“During her growing years, and until she is competent to be allotted a +fixed salary, she is to receive, at the expense of the theatre, food, +clothes, and lodging, together with free tuition in singing, elocution, +dancing, and such other branches of instruction as belong to the +education of a cultivated woman, and are requisite for the theatrical +profession.” The carrying out of this instruction is then committed to +her mother, who engages to teach her “the Piano, Religion, French, +History, Geography, Writing, Arithmetic, and Drawing.” She is also to +see to all matters of “food, fire, furniture, and clothing, bedding and +washing”; and to have for her a tender mother’s care. + +For these purposes she will receive from the Directors 250 Riksdaler +Banco (_i.e._ 20 guineas), while Jenny herself will be given two +Riksdaler Banco every month for pocket-money, out of which she is to pay +(poor child!) for her own needles and tape as well as for silk and +cotton towards the mending of her clothes; this will leave not very much +over for Jenny’s private purposes; but on the other hand she is to be +allowed the use of a pianoforte belonging to the Royal Theatre; and +moreover, after the 1st July, 1835, she will actually be supplied with a +chest of drawers, as well as bedstead and bedclothes, at the special +cost of the Royal Theatre. Her mother is to see to it that the little +pupil carefully observes the hours for lessons, rehearsals, and +representations. The Royal Directors are to judge when the tiny creature +will become competent to enter as actress with a salary from the Civil +List, after which a new contract will be made, by which she will be +pledged to remain for ten years in the service of the Royal Theatre for +such a salary as the Directors, having proper regard to her talent and +usefulness at the time, shall decide to grant her; but, in case “the +aktris-elev Lind, contrary to the good hopes entertained on her behalf, +were for one reason or another to prove of no use to the Royal Theatre, +or, again, if she were to fail in that obedience she owes to the Royal +Directors, it shall have full right to discharge her from the theatre +after three months’ notice, in which case the contract is to lapse.” + +So runs the deed, signed, on behalf of the Directors, by P. +Westerstrand, who had succeeded Count Puke as Intendant, and by Carl D. +Forsberg, of the War Office; and, below their signatures, Jenny’s mother +declares herself to be satisfied with the proposed conditions. + +The bond is impressive, first in requiring the “full education of a +cultivated woman.” There, in that phrase, is a distinct ideal. It +implies that the drama is no narrow, specialised function of a mere +expert; but is an affair in which the entire mind and character of the +artist are concerned, so that the theatre itself may well spend its +money in securing, not only the technical and professional training, but +also that the pupil shall have the intelligence developed and +fertilised, so that it be level with the average culture of the time. + +And then, again, the completeness of the more professional instruction +is well worth notice. Elocution, dancing, the piano—all are necessary to +perfect the dramatic singing. The memory of this completeness in her +early theatrical education left an indelible impression on Jenny Lind. +She felt that she owed to it so much that contributed to, and enriched, +the full effect of her musical gift; and especially she valued her +trained skill in expressive and beautiful motion, gained in the dancing +school at the Theatre Royal. She moved exquisitely. Her perfect walk, +her dignity of pose, her striking uprightness of attitude, were +characteristic of her to the very last; and no one can fail to recall +how she stood, before, and while, she sang. Her grace, her lightness of +movement were all the more noticeable from the rather angular thinness +of her natural figure; and there can be no doubt that they threw into +her acting a charm which was positively entrancing. + +To what degree the full education of a cultivated woman was actually +attained in her case, it would be hard to exactly define. A great +musical gift like hers carries culture with it; and, then, she had, all +her after-life, revelled in the society of the most cultivated men in +Europe. So that it is difficult, from knowledge of her in later days, to +say how much she had gained out of the formal instructions given her in +childhood. But, naturally, these can only have been of an elementary and +superficial type. + +Nevertheless, the list of general studies named by the Directors was not +merely nominal; pains were taken; the instruction was given. Religion, +in spite of the hostile proximity of French on the one side, and of the +piano on the other, was carefully attended to; and her Confirmation +certificate, given her on May 10th, 1836, witnesses, by the hand of the +rector of St. Jacob’s parish, Herr Abraham Pettersson, that she passed +the public examination in the Christian doctrine of salvation “_with +distinction_.” + +For French, she went, probably, to the classes of M. Terrade, teacher to +the Royal Theatre; the instruction was slight, but a certain degree of +conversational French was in free use in Stockholm at the time, and +would be habitual round about the theatre. Still, before her visit to +Paris in 1841, she thought it necessary to take special lessons; and she +had, when there, as we shall see, to grind at the grammar; so that her +early knowledge must have been quite unscientific. + +As to the piano, she, certainly, gained, at some time in her early life, +a complete mastery over it, which stood her in good stead, and afforded +her great enjoyment in later years. It was true that she had injured her +left hand, when young, while striking fire with a flint on tinder, which +to a certain extent crippled its full use; and, besides, she feared to +fatigue and contract the vocal organs by serious practice on the piano. +But, in spite of this, she handled it freely, and finely; she delighted +to improvise on it, which she did with a touch of genuine genius; and +part of the peculiar charm of her northern songs, as she sang them, came +to them from her delicious playing of the accompaniment. There seems to +be no doubt that, from quite early days, and more especially at about +the age of sixteen, she could use it with easy familiarity; for, while +still at this school, she used to “coach” the other girls through the +musical parts of the plays, beating them out, herself, on the piano. + +She had an eager and intense appreciation of her native literature; but, +no doubt, this would be largely due to the influence of the Stockholm +literary world, into which she was heartily welcomed at the time of her +first triumphs. + +A specimen of her drawing still remains—some painted flowers, done in +the exact and formal manner of the day, but bearing sufficient witness +to her having had the regular lessons; and those, probably, from her +mother, who has left designs of the same type. + +One accomplishment must be mentioned with special honour, her sewing. +She worked magnificently. “Madame’s stitches never come out,” is the +later testimony from her maid to her powers. And she loved to do a piece +of work, designing it herself, and achieving it, with the thoroughness +of an expert. + +German, which, afterwards, she loved, and pronounced beautifully, she +did not begin until after her twenty-fourth year. + +English was only slowly won, after her English visits. Her usual speech +in this country at that time was French. + +So much for her general education and accomplishments; but we have been +anticipating the course of our story, to which we now return. + +The little girl, then, started in the spring of 1833, with what might +well seem good hopes. Her career had taken a definite shape; she was +provided for, if nothing went wrong, for years to come; she was to +receive a regular education; and a future position was assured to her. +In the meantime she was to be housed, and cared for, by her own mother, +in the happy companionship of other girls. + +Mdlle. Bayard, the lady superintendent of the school, was a person much +respected; and the pupils were sure of enjoying care and attention from +her. Jenny seems to have been exceedingly happy both with her, and with +the other girls; but, alas! her trouble came from where we might least +expect it—from her mother. Was it that her strong and resolute nature +had been warped by early disappointment?—that the early marriage with +Captain Rådberg at eighteen, with its rapid disillusion, had left +serious damage behind it on temper, and character? Certainly, the world +had gone hard with her. She had had to fight her way along for herself, +under the burden of straitened circumstances. And she was somewhat +proud, and stubborn, and self-willed. She, probably, fretted at the +sense of being below the conditions which her burgher blood might expect +and justify. From passages in her letters, we shall see, that she was +quick to resent a slight, and hard to pacify. Altogether, from her +recorded words and expressions, we can feel that she was one for whom +things would not run smoothly. She was apt to show herself +cross-grained, violent, harsh; and this not only to others, but also to +her child. + +Before going on to tell the pitiful story of this early harshness, it +may be well to remember that the daughter’s memory of her mother was not +all dismal and unkind. Their characters had, probably, many elements in +common; her mother’s force, her mother’s haughty persistence reappeared, +to some extent, in Jenny Lind. She, too, was not apt to take life too +easily. And, again, she warmly recognised all that she owed, at this +early time, to her mother’s talents, and resolution, and effort. There +was, below all the divergence, a strong tie of underlying attachment. +The actual intercourse was, indeed, unhappy; it was marred by cruelty, +and narrowness, and suspicion, which left a life-long shadow on the +child. But it was not without something in it, which would, under +brighter circumstances, open out into the tenderness and gentleness +which belong to the name of mother, when once the early hardships were +passed. + +But it is these bad days of which we have now to speak. It appears that +the pupils found the treatment they received from her too stern and +hard; and they were soon removed to rooms at the top of the theatre +itself; and placed under the charge of Mdlle. Bayard. Here they fared +excellently; and were extremely happy. Jenny, who remained at her +mother’s, used to visit them there; and it was now that she struck up +her intimate friendship with one of the pupils, Mina Fundin, who became +her favourite playmate, and with whom she kept up, for life, an +affectionate relationship. This lady is still alive, residing in +Stockholm. It would seem that the contrast between the lonely severity +of the home and the lively society of the theatre-rooms was too much for +Jenny; and, at last, after some bout of harsh treatment, on the 30th of +October, 1834, she took matters into her own hands, and ran off to +Mdlle. Bayard. The Directors saw the merit of the proceeding, and +allowed her to remain there. But her mother was not a person to +acquiesce in such an arrangement, and the result was a long dispute with +the theatre for the recovery of the child. It can serve no good purpose, +now, to follow the track of this unhappy wrangle. It is enough to say +that the mother was not content, until she had applied the pressure of +the law against the Directors; that, at first, she only rested her +appeal on the bond with the theatre, and that, when this failed, in +January, 1835, she set to work with a more determined effort. Mr. Lind, +who had, hitherto, kept in the background, was called to the front to +take part in the struggle; and, together, they combined to make good +their full parental claims over their child. Such a claim, once formally +established, and put in force, was, necessarily, irresistible; and the +theatre was obliged to surrender Jenny, by a final judgment of the Royal +Upper Town-Court, on the 23rd of June, 1836; and was, also, directed to +recognise the existing contract of 1833 as still standing, and to pay, +therefore, to the parents the stipulated sum for Jenny’s keep, which was +owing from January 1st, 1835, to April 1st, 1836, together with lawyer’s +fee, etc. There the quarrel ended; on June 6th the theatre notified to +the parents that Jenny would return to their house on July 1st, to be +boarded at the old terms; and both Mr. Lind, and his wife, countersigned +the notice. + +It is pleasant to think that, in spite of these most uncomfortable +proceedings, the little creature over whose person home and theatre were +fighting so strenuously was spending a most happy time at Mdlle. +Bayard’s; and it is delightful to read the brimming letter which she +wrote, in the very thick of the wrangle, in August 1835—the very first +word that we actually possess from her pen. It is written from +Skytteholm, a place lying on one of the inland lakes which, in Sweden, +are called by the pleasant name of “Sweet-Waters,” where the pupils were +taken for their summer holidays. It is addressed to the mother of her +little playfellow, Mina Fundin—the Mina mentioned in the letter, who has +made such desperate resolutions from which she is only saved by the +state of her nerves and the motherliness of the “sensible old woman.” +With Mina’s mother, Jenny is evidently on the brightest and most +affectionate terms. Here is the letter:— + + “Skytteholm, 5 Aug., 1835. + + “MY DEAR LITTLE AUNTY, + + “Pardon me for taking the liberty to write to you—but—I really + don’t know what to write about! Yes, I know! I hope that my little + Aunty and Lotta are quite well;—_we_ are flourishing, all of us! + + “Ah! thank God! soon we return to town; I long dreadfully, for now + there is no more fun down here. You must not feel uneasy, Aunty, about + Mina going to drown herself, for she has not yet done so, because she + is too nervous even to go near the water—Oh, yes!—_occasionally_ she + does run the risk of it, but _I_ will look after her—_I_, who am a + sensible, old woman. + + “We eat fruit in such quantities that sometimes we are not able to + walk, but we can’t get so very much, for the simple reason that there + are so few ripe ones; we only eat currants, and those are most + wholesome, aren’t they? + + “Adieu, kind little Aunty! Do not mind my having written so badly, I + shall write better another time. I venture to enclose myself in + Aunty’s friendship. + + “Yours truly obliged, + “JENNY LIND.” + + “Oh! how beautifully written!” + +The applause of the last phrase refers to the signature, which is +written with a vigorous flourish. The tone of the letter is delicious,— +simple, gay, and tender. They must have been bright days out of which +such words came; and it must be confessed, we fear, that some of the +brightness was probably left behind her, on the day when she returned to +her own mother’s house on the 1st of July. The nature of the return, to +begin with, was not likely to be very auspicious; and, then, there was +the partial loss of her merry companions. However, we hear of nothing to +show that things did not go smoothly. + +And, in the meantime, too, success is coming, and continually growing, +to enliven, and enhearten the days. Whatever the struggle, and trouble, +that her life brought in it, certainly of one grief, which is apt to +darken the days of young artists, she was absolutely free. She was never +troubled by a lack of recognition. From her earliest childhood, her +gifts were felt to be surpassing; and this feeling never flagged. From +the beginning of her dramatic career to its close, it is one unbroken +triumph; and she had this singular good fortune of finding her way to +the exercise of her gifts, before a sympathetic public, as soon as she +had them to exercise. We shall see, in the next chapter, the way in +which this happened, and the direction which her success took. We shall +see that this risk on her behalf, which the Theatre Royal ran, and to +which we have ventured to give cordial praise, was one which justified +itself, by practical results, almost as soon as it had been run. The +theatre had hardly sown before it found itself reaping. The child, whom +Count Puke thought more of an age for a _crèche_ than a Royal Theatre, +was already, before she was in her teens, bringing grist to the Royal +mill. + + + + + CHAPTER IV. + CAREER. + + +We have seen that it was the child’s _musical_ talent that, first, +evoked the wonder of her neighbours. The stupor of the grandmother at +the baby’s fanfare on the piano; the amazement of the passers-by at the +song which was being confided to the ears of the patient and +appreciative cat; the tears that started to the eyes of Croelius—these +are the earliest signals of her marvellous gifts. But we, now, have to +recognise a new characteristic, which was almost more phenomenal than +her singing. Indeed, it may well be doubted whether, during her first +ten years at the Royal Theatre, it did not surpass her voice in +witnessing to the presence in her of a unique genius. This was her +_dramatic_ power. Precocious and extraordinary as her child-voice had +been, both in versatility and in tenderness, yet her early woman’s voice +did not, at first, exhibit or develop its after-gifts of high sonority. +It was still thin, and veiled. Rather, at that time, the secret of her +success lay in that intense and irresistible identification of herself, +voice and all, with her part, which is the highest proof of dramatic +genius. + +In later years, those, who heard her sing in opera, would often say, +that if she had not been the greatest singer in the world, she would +have been the greatest actress. And we shall see the evidence for the +truth of this anticipation, if we glance over the early records of her +performance at the theatre; and we shall, also, understand through what +years of actual experience it was that she had obtained that thorough +mastery over all the detail and method of the stage, which made her +acting so consummate. + +The long list of her performances, kept in the records of the Royal +Theatre, reveal to us that already, in the very first year of her +admittance to the school, as a little child of ten years old, she made +her appearance on the boards, on November 29th, 1830, in a play called +_The Polish Mine_, described as a “Drama, with Dance”; and in which she +played the part of “Angela.” “Angela” is a little girl of seven, who has +been carried off to a wild castle in the hills by a tyrant lord, to +amuse and cheer her mother, whom he had seized and shut up as his +prisoner. The child is to amuse the company at a grand fête in the +castle, and contrives, in an improvised dance, to convey to her mother +comfort and affection. But, on recognising her father disguised among +the guests, in pursuit of his wife, a cry of surprise escapes her; the +father is detected, and all three, father, mother, and child, are thrown +into prison in the Mine. There little Angela succeeds in getting hold of +the warder’s key while he is speaking with her mother, and in opening +the barrier without being discovered. The father and mother are thus +enabled to meet, and to fly, with their child, from the Polish Mine; +after a series of exciting adventures, they make good their escape; all +is made right. It is a part full of occasions for the brilliant little +dancer, whose ingenuity and skill are the key to the plot. The play was +repeated five times in the December, and twice more in the January +following. On March 18th, 1831, she made her first appearance in the +play that is noticed in the newspaper quoted below; it was called +‘_Testamentet_, a Drama,’ in which her part was that of “Johanna.” She +appeared, in this character, for the third time on April 14th, 1832, and +on the 4th April, 1832, we have the following notice of her appearance +in a periodical for literature and art, called _Heimdall_. The paper +begins by an apology for not having, long ago, put on record the wonder +that had already for some time been aroused. “We take this opportunity,” +it writes, “of performing a long-neglected duty—that of calling +attention to a young pupil of the theatre, Jenny Lind, only ten or +eleven years of age, who has several times appeared in the play +_Testamentet_ which preceded _Fidelio_. She shows, in her acting, a +quick perception, a fire and feeling, far beyond her years, which seem +to denote an uncommon disposition for the theatre.” + +This play, _The Will_, is a charming piece by Kotzebue; and the part +taken by Jenny is one which would give delicious opportunities to her +arch and winning grace. It is impossible, as one reads the part, not to +picture her every look and gesture, so admirably is it suited to +qualities in her which were vividly present to the very last. We venture +to extract a scene from it. The plot turns on an old Colonel wounded in +the wars, who has been carried, unknown to himself, to the house of a +daughter whom he had utterly cast off for a marriage of which he +disapproved. He is full of gratitude for the care with which he has been +nursed. His heart is stirred with a longing for home: he is longing to +leave his fortune to his kind nurses; but the daughter, who has +recognised him, keeps ever out of sight; and he only sees her two +children, Henriette and Johanna. Henriette, the eldest, having been told +by her mother who this old man is, has been singing him a song which he +had loved in long-past days, “O sweet, and holy Nature!” He has broken +down under the strain of bitter memories: and he has to beg her to cease +singing, and to send him her little sister, for “the gracious child +knows so well how to charm away all bitterness.” After a sad monologue, +bewailing the loneliness in which he is drawing near to that last hour, +when there will be no one ever to say over him, “Here lies a brave man +in peace!” Johanna (Jenny) comes springing into the room, saying:— + + “Good morning, dear old Colonel!—‘Mister Colonel,’ I ought to have + said! My mother scolds me, if I don’t!” + + “COL. Good morning, little Jacky! Come, and be merry with me! Do some + of those funny tricks, that you are so fond of! And call me ‘Colonel,’ + plain and simple, please!—Or, what do you think of calling me ‘Papa’? + + “JOH. Papa? Oh! that I could never do! My papa is in the picture + upstairs, and he is so beautiful, and young, and kindly—— + + “COL. Well, I own I am not young and beautiful: but kindly!—_that_ I + am, indeed! Don’t you believe it? + + “JOH. Oh yes! very often you are! + + “COL. You must remember how ill I was: sick people cannot be very kind + to others: but now, you shall always find me bright and good, right + until I go away. + + “JOH. What? Must you go away from us? + + “COL. Certainly: in a few days. + + “JOH. Are you in earnest? + + “COL. I am, indeed. + + “JOH. Oh! don’t go away from us! We all love you so dearly! + + “COL. Do you love me? + + “JOH. Oh! yes! At first, you know, I was very frightened of you; but + now—not a bit! + + “COL. And how did you get over your fright? + + “JOH. Why, because when you are as kind as you were, no one could help + being fond of you. And when you are dull, and cross, then I just take + myself off. + + “COL. Ah! then, to-day, my Jacky will not take herself off, will she? + + “JOH. Yes, I will, if you ever again call me ‘Jacky’! that is a + _dreadful_ name! + + “COL. Why dreadful? + + “JOH. I don’t know. But there are such _lovely_ names in the books + which my sister reads; and specially nice English names, like Liddy, + and Betty, and Arabella! Oh! if only they had asked _me_ before I was + baptized, I would have chosen the very loveliest of them all! + + “COL. It was, really, a great shame that they did not ask you. + + “JOH. My mother says, that she only had two names to give to her + daughters, because my grandfather had but two names, John, and Henry! + + “COL. John Henry! Why, those are _my_ names, too! + + “JOH. Once I cried over the stupid name, Jacky. But, then, my mother + began to cry, too, and she said: ‘Dearest child, you bear a name which + reminds me of a noble man!’ Now, I don’t know at all why I should + remind her of him. But then mother began to cry; so, you see, since + then, I don’t take any notice of it! + + “COL. Well, let me try and teach you why you have the name. I am too + old, you say, to be your father, so will you try to think that I am + your dear old grandfather, John Henry? + + “JOH. Yes! All right! But then, you know, you must never go away! + + “COL. Or will you come with me, when I go? + + “JOH. Away from mother? Oh! what a horrid thing to do! + + “COL. Well, but, some day, you will have to leave her, when you go to + be married. + + “JOH. Ah! yes! when I am married! I say! have you got a son? + + “COL. Why? + + “JOH. Why, because, if he is nice, I would marry him, and, then, we + might all stop together. + + “COL. No, Jacky! I have no son—no child at all! + + “JOH. Poor old man! + + “COL. (_sighing_). Yes, indeed! + + “JOH. It’s a shame! A horrible shame! I should have been so glad to + have married your son! + + “COL. Why so glad? + + “JOH. Why, because you are rich; and, then, I should be rich; and I + could help my sister! + + “COL. What is there that she needs? + + “JOH. I’ll tell you. Only, you must promise never to betray me! + + “COL. I promise faithfully. + + “JOH. Well, you know, she loves the head-ranger, and the head-ranger + loves her; and my mother says that it is all right: she often says, + ‘It would be the joy of my old age!’ But he has nothing, and we have + nothing: so nothing can be done. + + “COL. Dear me! Is that how it stands? + + “JOH. Ah! if only I could manage that mother should be able to say to + me ‘You are the joy of my old age!’ That would be lovely! I declare + that if only I could do that, I would not mind calling all my own + children, ‘Jacky!’ + + + “COL. Listen to me, dear child! I have an idea. If it was in your + power to make your sister rich enough to marry the head-ranger, would + you not do it? + + “JOH. Of course I should! + + “COL. Well, then, you _can_ do it. + + “JOH. You are only laughing at me? + + “COL. No! I promise you! Come away with me; be my little daughter; and + I will give your mother enough money to buy this joy for her old age! + + “JOH. Oh! that’s very hard! Where shall we have to go? + + “COL. Far, far away from here. + + “JOH. Oh dear! and shall I never see my mother again? + + “COL. Oh yes! I shall let you have a beautiful carriage with four + beautiful horses, and you will jump into it, and cry ‘Coachman, drive + me quick to mamma!’ + + “JOH. Will you really give me that? + + “COL. I promise it. + + “JOH. And I shall, then, bring joy to my mother’s old age! + + “COL. Yes, you alone! of your own self! + + “JOH. Come along, you dear old Colonel; I will be your daughter. + + “COL. Away we’ll go, my Jacky! Only wait a minute! I must go and + arrange things. (_Goes out._) + + “JOH. (_alone_). Oh! How happy mother will be! and my dear sister! and + the head-ranger! And it shall be a splendid wedding! and we will have + the musicians to play! Oh yes! we must have musicians! My old man must + not refuse me that, or else I won’t go with him! Oh dear! I wish I was + not going! I shall cry so; and the others will cry too; for they all + love me!—Ah! but then just think what it will be when I come back in + the beautiful carriage with four horses; and say ‘Coachman, drive me + home!’ and away we go, over stock and stone, until we draw up here at + our own house, prr! prr; and mother will put out her head at the + window; and cry ‘Jacky is come! Jacky is come!’” + +Such was the delightful part played by the tiny little girl of ten years +old. Every word in it would suit her—the merry quickness of the child, +the sudden turns from gaiety to tears, and back again to gaiety, the +mysterious confidences, the prattling innocence, the brimming affection. +No wonder that the _Heimdall_ was fascinated. + +In the year preceding this notice, 1831, she had played, for three +nights, in what is called by the serious name of “an historic drama”— +_Johanna de Montfaucon_, in which she took the part of “Otto”; and, +besides this, had appeared five times as “Jeannette,” in a “Comedy, with +Dance,” called the _Pasha of Suresne_. During the following year, 1833, +she appeared in twenty-two performances—her new characters being +“Louise” in a bagatelle in one act, called _The Students of Småland_, +and “Georgette,” in a drama of five acts, called _Thirty Years of a +Gambler’s Life_, which ran for ten nights during November and December; +and was constantly repeated in 1834. This early brilliancy was +apparently at its very height in 1834—when, on June 24th of that year, a +paper, _The Daily Allehanda_, seems quite bewildered by the child’s +extraordinary power. “In the play known in its French form as _La fausse +Agnès_” (so it writes) “there is a child’s part which is rendered with +an almost incomprehensible, a really unnatural cleverness by Jenny +Lind.” This cleverness must indeed have been almost incomprehensible: +for it leads the critic to indulge in an anxious complaint that the +little girl’s “temperament seems readily to lean to everything that is +not of a serious character.” So absolutely had she disguised herself by +the freedom with which she had thrown herself into her part! All that +deep impressive seriousness, which was the innermost note of her being, +had absolutely vanished out of sight; and the paper feared for her +light-headed frivolity! Yet, in calling, as it does, upon Jenny’s +instructors and guardians to see to it that the danger be averted, and +that “her happy natural gifts, high-spirited as they are, should be +carefully and judiciously dealt with,” the _Daily Allehanda_ was giving +proof of a tender and noble solicitude for the good guidance of the +child. And it did more. For it goes on to complain of the immoral +character of this play, in which she was allowed to appear; it speaks +strongly of the deep ethical corruption of the society which it +portrayed, and of the responsibility incurred by those who permitted a +child to put out her powers in a part so full of “coquetry, boldness, +and heartlessness.” It does honour to the Press of Stockholm that it +should have made this protest. As we read it, we shudder at the terrible +perils which were swarming round the child. Here was a case in which her +very innocence of evil, at that tender age, allowed her to revel in the +fun and the audacity of such a character, without any of the checks +which a knowledge of the villainy in it would have suggested to her pure +mind. Her very innocence is used to encourage her to abandon herself to +the fling and swing of the scandalous play. So perilous was her path! +Yet along it she moves, untainted and unhurt, in the security of the +pure in heart, with such sure feet as those with which, on Raphael’s +canvas, St. Margaret passes, without an effort or a fear, in maiden +gentleness, over the writhing Dragon and through the gate of Hell. + +She appeared, altogether, twenty-two times in 1834, and twenty-six times +in 1835—the principal new character being “Pierrette,” in a drama from +the French in three acts, called _The Foster-Son_, which ran for +thirteen nights in the course of the year; and “Leonora” in a +vaudeville, with music by Berwald, called _The New Garrison_. + +In several of these plays, there seems to have been music and dancing; +possibly, too, some singing from Jenny. At any rate, she sang publicly +at some concerts in the theatre, during these years; taking part in a +duet from _La Straniera_ with her master Herr Berg, on November 24th, +1832; and in a trio, on November 28th, 1835. And long before this there +appear to have been performances given, in private rooms, by Herr Berg, +in which to exhibit her phenomenal talent, the news of which spread +abroad: for, in the _Heimdall_, the periodical from which we have +already quoted a description of her acting, there is the following +record given, in its number for April 24th, 1832:— + + “Her (_i.e._ Jenny’s) remarkable musical gift, and its precocious + development, have made quite a sensation in the circle in which she + has appeared, guided by her master, Herr Berg. Her memory is as + perfect as it is sure; her receptive powers as quick as they are + profound. Every one is, thus, both astonished, and moved, by her + singing. She can stand a trial, in the most difficult _solfeggi_ and + the most intricate phrases, without being bewildered; and whatever + turn the ‘improvisation’ of her master may take, she follows his + indications with the liveliest attention, as if they were her own. + Nothing can be more interesting than to listen to Herr Berg with this + little pupil by his side; and one is tempted to believe in a magnetic + ‘rapport’ between them, so entirely do both seem to be one soul and + one heart. + + “If this young genius does not ripen too prematurely, there is every + reason for expecting to find in her—although alas! not until the + distant future—an operatic artist of high rank.” + +This is a fascinating little glimpse of the child of twelve, absorbed in +her teacher, miraculously interpreting and reproducing his mind. Her +innate originality of character did not at all stand in the way of her +rapid assimilation as a pupil. Her musical genius carried her into the +very heart of what was set before it, with extraordinary rapidity of +insight. We shall find many instances of this. And, here, it leads us to +dwell, for a few moments, on the name of this, her early master. + +Berg had succeeded Croelius, as Head of the School of Singing, within a +year, or so, after her entry at the theatre. Already, in April, ’32, he +had made the child entirely his own, in the manner described in the +periodical. Croelius had the merit of first believing in her; but it is +Berg, who is to be credited with her entire training for the Swedish +stage. He, evidently, took the most intense and devoted interest in her +from the very first; and she became the intimate friend of his home. He +was a clever and cultivated musician, confident, sanguine, and eager; +well considered in Stockholm society. Her own feelings towards her first +teacher cannot be better expressed than in the words which she wrote, +long afterwards, to her guardian, Judge Munthe, in November, 1849. “Herr +Berg arrived so unexpectedly! I was delighted to see him! Oh! God! those +memories of childhood! At this unexpected meeting with him, remembrances +of all kinds from my early years arose in my soul! We all, indeed, have +our shortcomings, that is certain—therefore, let us cover them over! +Herr Berg is one of my nearest friends; and gratitude is a feeling that +I love, and desire to cultivate.... And old friend Berg is interwoven +with the history of my whole life.” + +Such, then, was her master; alert, talkative, confident, with a +quick-eyed face, not unlike Schubert in type; too pressing, perhaps, in +his zeal for his pupil, to estimate the overstrain on her powers—an +overstrain, forced on, no doubt, by theatrical necessities behind him, +but constantly noticed and feared by the Press of the day. + +In 1836, there is no record of Jenny Lind appearing at any concert; but +her dramatic engagements continue, and some of them, with music and +singing. And, especially is to be noted her first attempt in an opera, +during the month of February, when she played “Georgette,” for four +nights, in a “grand opera,” by Lindblad, called _Frondörerne_. + +Apart from this, the year was not specially signalised; she made rather +fewer appearances, only eighteen during the year, her new parts being +“Emilie” in a comedy with song from the German, called _The New +Blue-Beard_—and “Carolina” in a big drama in five acts of Kotzebue’s, +called _The Unknown Son_; and just at the close of December, she took +the part of a girl in Sacchini’s opera _Œdipus in Athens_. + +The 1st of January, 1837, marks a new departure. According to the +contract of 1833, with the mother, the Directors were to decide at what +date Jenny Lind should be given a fixed salary, as actress at the Royal +Theatre. Hitherto the money paid her by the Directors has been simply an +arrangement for her keep; she has performed, on their behalf, under this +arrangement one hundred and eleven times, besides her appearances at +concerts. It is now considered time to give her a fixed and salaried +position, after which she is still bound, by the original contract, to +be in the service of the Directors for ten years, if they require it of +her. Her salary is fixed at 700 R. D. Banco; about £60 a year.[5] And, +certainly, she was to do a lot of work, in the course of the year, in +discharge of her obligations under the bond. She appeared ninety-two +times on the boards; in twelve new characters. Four of the pieces were +produced for the first time in Stockholm. The parts varied greatly in +character: “Betty,” in a drama, with music, chorus and dancing, called +_Jenny Mortimer_; “Zoe,” in a comedy of that name, by Scribe; and +“Marie,” in another of his comedies called _Adèle de Sénanges_; +“Justine,” in a verse-comedy of five acts, from the French, called _The +Jealous Wife_; “Louise,” in a burlesque comedy, with song, by Nicolo +Isouard, called the _The Ludicrous Encounter_; “Rosa,” in a two-act +comedy by the Princess Amelia of Saxony, called _The Bride of the +Capital_; “Erik,” a boy’s part in a drama, with music and dancing, +called _The Fisherman_; “Laura,” in _The Sentinel_, a comic opera by +Rifaut; “Fanny,” in _Marie de Sivry_, a drama in three acts. Here was a +great deal of bright and light business; and besides this, there was +work of a more serious kind: “Emma,” in a three-act tragedy in verse, by +Delavigne, called _The Sons of King Edward_; “Clara,” in _The Bride of +the Tomb_, an historical drama in five acts, which ran for eight nights +on end; “Dafne,” in Victor Hugo’s _Angelo Malipieri_; and “Fräulein +Neubrunn,” in _The Death of Wallenstein_. Two performances were given of +Mozart’s _Zauberflöte_, in which she sang as “Second Genius.” + +Evidently, she had a wide range of characters; and she must have +accumulated a mass of dramatic experience. It will be noticed that this +is all in her sixteenth and seventeenth years; and this disposes of a +familiar rumour that, at that period, her voice entirely failed, and +that she had to lie by. There was no positive pause in her work. The +year 1836 was, no doubt, one in which she did least; but, then, it was +the very year in which she first used her voice in a grand opera. The +year 1837 was, as we see, a time of growing, and incessant work, and is +the first year of her _official_ engagement. The rumour arose from her +own pronounced opinion that it is a time at which a girl’s voice +absolutely requires rest; to which opinion she had been brought by her +bitter experience of the damage done to her own vocal organs by the +absence of this needful relaxation. She ought to have had the repose for +quiet and orderly growth, which all need, and which she was not allowed. + +Before 1837 quite closed, a noticeable event took place, full of +prophetic meaning to our heroine. A new name is becoming important in +the operatic world,—the name of Meyerbeer; his fame stands high in +Berlin and Paris; and the Royal Theatre is anxious to test the prospects +of his popularity in Stockholm. So a concert is arranged, in which a +part of the fourth act of _Robert de Normandie_ should be tentatively +given. Oddly enough the part of the opera selected for the experiment +was one that is not generally given when the work is performed as a +whole. It is the scene in which, after a chorus of women, the Princess +Isabella recognises the face of the girl, Alice, as she enters; and +learns from her what she bears to Roberto from his mother. Four +performances of this excerpt were given in the course of that December; +and Jenny Lind was chosen to sing the short passage in which “Alice” +appears. There is a melodious phrase, twice repeated, in the recitative, +and a pathetic cadence at its close. The tradition still lives of the +instantaneous effect produced by her on those who heard it. It was a +short flight; she just felt her wings; she was to hear much more of +Meyerbeer, and of “Alice.” For the moment all is still again. It is but +a passing trial. We must wait a little longer. + + + + + CHAPTER V. + DISCOVERY. + + +Yet it is to be but a very little longer; for we now come to the year +which was, to her, the epoch, the turning-point of her career. It had +opened with an immense run, for twenty-two nights, all through January +and February, of a French melodrama in two acts, _The American Monkey_, +in which she played “Hyacinthe.” Then followed three performances of the +serious tragedy, in verse, _The Sons of King Edward_. And then, on the +night of March 7th, came the moment of moments. “I got up, that morning, +one creature:” she herself often said; “I went to bed another creature. +I had found my power!” And, all through her life, she kept the 7th of +March with a religious solemnity; she would ask to have herself +remembered on it with prayers; she treated it as a second birthday. And +rightly; for, on that day, she woke to herself; she became artistically +alive; she felt the inspiration, and won the sway, which she now knew it +was given her to have and to hold. + +She achieved this in the character of “Agatha” in Weber’s _Freischütz_. + +She used often to tell how, in studying this part in preparation for her +_début_, with Madame Erikson, one of the chief leaders and teachers in +the school, of whom she was very fond, and who did much for her, she, +one day when they two were alone, was seized with a desire to satisfy +her teacher, and put her whole soul and power into her portrayal of the +character—only to be met with dead silence. “Am I, then, so incapable +and so stupid?” she thought, till she saw the tears trickling down her +teacher’s face; and all Madame Erikson could say was, “My child, I have +nothing to teach you; do as Nature tells you!” + +The day of her _début_ was an agony; but, with her first note, she felt +all fear and nervousness disappear. She had discovered herself; and, +certainly, the discovery was absolute. The experience of that night was +final. “She had found her power.” That is her own record of what +happened on that evening. She who was perfectly accustomed to a public +audience, and to the applause of a public audience, still felt that all +this success had never shown her the real potency which it was in her to +wield. Still, for her, that 7th of March was a disclosure, a revelation, +a new thing. It was not so much a better edition of that which had +preceded it. It was a step out into a new world of dominion. She knew, +at last, where it was that she stood; and what she was to do on the +earth. She learned something of her mission. For, to her religious mind, +the discovery of a gift was the discovery of a mission. She saw the +responsibility with which she was charged, through the mere possession +of such a power over men. The singer, with the gift from God—that is +what she became on that night. “She went to bed a new creature.” + +The memory of that eventful moment remained permanently recorded in the +shape of two silver candlesticks, presented to her by the Directors of +the Royal Theatre, “in remembrance of March the 7th,” so the inscription +ran. It was the first of the many tributes that were made her in her +life; and it had, as such, a peculiar value which no after-gift could +exceed. She held those silver candlesticks in special affection; and +left them, at her death, to her daughter. + +The _Freischütz_ was given nine times in the course of 1838; but, for +most of the year, she returned to her old parts which she had already +played, appearing in melodrama, comedy, and burlesque. In all, she had +made, for her salary of £60, seventy-three appearances. + +In 1839, her success bore its fruit in a rise of the salary to 900 R. D. +Banco. She appeared, in the course of the year, only fifty-three times; +but, perhaps, this is to be explained, by the growing importance of her +operatic parts, and the gradual dropping of the light comedy characters +in which she had figured hitherto. She sang the part of “Laura” in an +opera called _Le Château de Montenero_, by Dalayrac. She repeated +“Agatha” four times. She appeared in a character which she greatly +enjoyed, and in after years frequently repeated—that of “Julia” in +Spontini’s _Vestale_. + +But the event of the year was her appearance in her traditional part of +“Alice” in _Roberto_, by which she was destined to win her most +memorable triumphs. It was a character in which her splendid dramatic +power fused itself with her gifts of voice, so as to leave an indelible +impression of force and of beauty on the imagination of those who saw +and heard. It was a part which drew on her own vivid personality, with +its intensity of faith, with its horror of sin, with its passionate and +chivalrous purity. + +She opened, in this part, on May 10th and, evidently, with overwhelming +effect; for she has to play it for twenty-three times before the year is +out, and to repeat it for twenty-three more, in the following year. It +is on “Alice” that the interest is concentrated, in Stockholm +drawing-rooms, when Jenny Lind’s name is announced as a guest. She will +have to sing the part sixty times on those same boards before she has +done, between the 10th of May on which she first sang it, and the 30th +of December, 1843, when she will give her last performance of it in the +Royal Theatre. + +Bournonville, a distinguished composer of operatic ballets, in +Copenhagen, of whom we shall hear more later on, writes in his +‘Theatrical Life’ of this performance:— + + “She was only eighteen when I first heard her, but had already so + eminent a talent, that her performance of ‘Alice’ could be compared to + the best I had seen and heard in Paris. Although her voice had not yet + reached the high development it afterwards attained, it already + possessed, even then, the same sympathy, the same electric power, + which now makes it so irresistible. She was worshipped.” + +The year 1839 was marked by several appearances at concerts in the Royal +Theatre; and on May 12th, she gave her first great concert on her own +behalf. At this, she sang a recitative with aria, from _Anna Bolena_, +and in a duet by Mercadante: besides giving a scena from the second act +of the _Freischütz_. + +Not only at Stockholm did she sing. We find her at Upsala on the 19th +June, giving a concert in her own name, in connection with the great +Whitsuntide festivities, of which that university town is, annually, the +scene. Here, for the first time, she had the fascinating triumph of an +escort home, accompanied by the Students’ Song. And here, too, is the +first note of danger given, as to the strain that is being put on her +voice. Evidently, her inner genius is already beating against the bars +of her technical skill. In her “strivings after perfection” she is +attempting more than her present knowledge and training enable her to +express. She “surpasses the limits” which, according to the paper, +“Nature has set”; though, indeed, it was not “Nature,” but the lack of +knowledge, which had set the limits. It is just about this time, in May, +1840, that the famous Swedish historian Geijer, who was a most +sympathetic admirer, notices “a certain inequality in her acting” in the +part of “Lucia.” Something there was, which was, as yet, missing to her +full development. Here is the interesting extract from the +_Correspondenten_, a journal of politics and literature, in which the +tone of warning or alarm is so gracefully struck. + + “We could hardly name any musical treat, given in Upsala, which has + met with a more general appreciation than Fröken Jenny Lind’s concert, + last Sunday.... The modest bearing which is so noticeable in this + gifted singer contributes, in no mean measure, to enhance the + enthusiastic reception, with which she will always be greeted by an + impartial public. But she herself, and those who, in one way or + another, are disposing of her talents, ought to bear in mind that an + artist’s strivings after perfection can, in the case of a delicate + physique, easily become a devouring fire. May we err in our + conjecture, but there seems to be some foundation for the fear that + this enchanting voice not rarely surpasses the limits which Nature + itself has suggested. From here Fröken Lind, according to report, went + to Gothenburg, having, however, promised to visit us again, later on.” + +At Gothenburg, Jenny Lind had a most delightful rest for the summer. She +stayed there all July, singing indeed at a concert now and again, but +without any serious work, and in hearty enjoyment of the delicious +open-air country-life which was so near her heart. Her mother is with +her, and writes to Mr. Lind on July 12th, 1839, a vivid account of the +pleasant days, in which we can feel how the public excitement is working +round Jenny, who “receives many visits every day from all possible +artists and amateurs.” + + “In my last letter I gave you an account of our pleasant journey, etc. + We have now settled down temporarily at the sweetest little spot, + called ‘Gubbero,’ belonging to the Russian Consul Lang, whose chief + property is separated only by a garden from our lodgings which consist + of three furnished rooms with ante-room. Our Jenny recruits herself + daily, now in the haystacks, now on the sea or in the swing, in + perfect tranquillity, while the town people are said to be longing for + her concert and greatly wondering when it will come off. Once or twice + she has been singing in rather good circles, the divine air of + ‘Isabelle’ from _Robert le Diable_. Nearly everybody was crying—one + lady actually went into hysterics from sheer rapture; this has got + abroad already. Yes, _mon petit vieux_, she captivates all, all! It is + a great happiness to be a mother under such conditions. She sends + fondest love to her papa, wishing from all her heart to meet you in + quite good health. About the 20th, Jenny will give her first concert— + everyone says she ought to raise the usual price.” + +The last touch is as eminently characteristic of Fru Lind as it is +unlike her daughter. We find the same note again in an amusing bit of +disappointed complaint with which she closes a most pretty account of a +surprise which they had had, earlier in the year—an account which we +insert here, not only as a graphic story of the way in which Jenny was +responding to the buzz of popular enthusiasm which already began to +besiege her, but also, as illustrating what Fru Lind here notices, of +Jenny’s power to draw tears of joy, by her singing. Ever in her voice +rang the sympathetic vibration, at which tears flow. As it had been at +her earliest interview with old Croelius at nine years old, so it is now +with this old Baron, when she is all but nineteen. + + “Do you know,” writes the mother from Stockholm, on the evening of + Feb. 22, 1839, “the other day we had a curious visit, a certain Baron + de G——, an old _gentilhomme_, who had travelled all the way from his + country-seat, with the hope of seeing and hearing Jenny in the + _Freischütz_, but he was disappointed, through a change of + performance, owing to Almlöf’s indisposition. Randel[6] (whose patron + this man is) undertook to forward, in the most delicate way, his + request to me and to our Jenny, that he might call upon us and be + allowed to hear, ever so little, the voice of the adored one, so + highly spoken of in his own part of the country. Jenny agreed, and so + they came—Randel, Baron de G——, and his son. Little Jenny was liberal, + the noble aspect of the old man prepossessed her in his favour, she + sang both her grand airs. The old man was delighted, and this was + clearly visible, because he could not keep back his tears. Our little + home looked particularly neat, and chocolate was served, and they + parted with us, quite charmed. But probably it ends there! For who + rewards talent in our country; even when people are ever so rich?” And + “what,” she asks in this same letter, “has this good, this + incomparable Jenny for her increased labour? Not even the advantage of + providing for her indispensable wants, without incurring debt! But I + say, like you, ‘Come day, comes counsel’; we shall see.” + +These characteristic passages, which we have quoted to illustrate the +stir of fame that is moving about the daughter, will well serve to +explain a domestic crisis which we are now approaching—a crisis which +had, for its issue, an event that told deeply upon Jenny Lind’s artistic +development. For, indeed, as we read them, we cannot but be conscious +that this mother, proud as she is of her wonderful child, and delighting +in the glow of her success, yet lets drop expressions which reveal the +gulfs that gape between the two temperaments. Every one who reads can +understand why it was that, in spite of the pleasant and affectionate +intercourse of these summer holidays at Gothenburg, there was something +which would make mother and child impossible companions for one another. +This practical and determined mind which was bent on acquiring the just +profits that were due from a public that talked so enthusiastically +about “our incomparable Jenny”—how it must have offended the primary +instincts of the artist herself! How was it conceivable that she should +tolerate this insistent voice in her ear, suggesting always how easy it +would be to raise the price of the tickets; while she was, on the other +hand, shaping steadily, into clearer vision, her recognition of her gift +as a charge from God, to be used in His service, for the help of +mankind? There might be much affection, at heart, between the pair, but +companionship, there could not be. They had antagonistic consciences: +and neither of them had a nature that easily yields. This very letter +from which we have been quoting contains a most characteristic instance +of the temper of which we are speaking—a temper which was bound to fill +a house with the noise of clash and quarrel, such as would be misery to +one who needed in her home shelter, softness, refuge, ease, and peace. +Here is the story:— + + “I must tell you” (she writes) “that I have just returned from the + theatre with rather a long face to find that no seat is accorded to + Jenny’s mother, although there still were empty seats, and, besides, + the performance had already begun. M——, with his insinuating smile, + asked me to wait on the chance of there being room after the second + piece had begun. But I answered, ‘As no place is accorded me, I shall + go without altogether,’ and so I left. Z—— is always overbearing and + rude. This is the gratitude we get for our leniency with these people. + Jenny, on hearing of this misadventure, went straight up to Z——, and + gave him to understand her annoyance at my not having a seat. His + answer, that there could not be room for everybody’s mother, was just + like him; but Jenny’s remark on this took him a little down; a + messenger was despatched to offer me a seat on the first tier; but, to + Jenny’s surprise, mother was gone—and best so!” + +This episode is amusing enough; and, moreover, no one who knew the +daughter can resist the recognition of qualities in her which vividly +recall the mother in this most characteristic scene. Certainly they bore +likeness to one another. But, then, this would only make matters worse. +We cannot be surprised if such an atmosphere became intolerable, and if +explosions occurred. + +So it was that, towards the end of 1839, Jenny took the decisive step +which, finally, separated her from actual home-life. It came about with +a certain touch of humour. She had, some time before this, pressed her +old friend, Louise Johansson, now engaged in a _Magasin de Modes_, to +take a spare room, which was to be let in the Linds’ house. This secured +her a companionship which she greatly valued, and, through which, things +were tolerable. After a year Fru Lind proposed to raise her terms: and, +when Mdlle. Louise could not agree to this, she lost her temper, and +declared that both Jenny and she were welcome to leave her roof. + +This was told to a well-to-do relation, Mdlle. Apollonia Lindskog, known +to Jenny as “Tante Lona,” living with a sister of Mr. Lind’s father, Fru +Strömberg, who, having adopted Mr. Lind at his father’s death, was +called by Jenny “Grandmother.” These two ladies agreed to receive the +exiles: but how were they to manage the transfer? In this way. Jenny +packed all her clothes into a large wash-basket on the plea that they +were to go to the dressmaker. She, then, invited her parents to a +performance of _Roberto_, in which she played “Alice”: during which time +Louise put up her things, and sent them off to Mdlle. Lindskog. Next +morning, at breakfast, Louise announced that she wished to leave her +present lodgings. Fru Lind, with much heat, broke out into her old +phrase, and declared that if so, she might take Jenny with her. Jenny, +then, took her at her word; and left the house, going, first, to Herr +Berg, and, then, joining Louise at Mdlle. Lindskog’s. Her parents +appeared there, to claim her: but found themselves unable to force a +girl of nineteen from the house of so near a relation. Yet Jenny, in +fear that they might yet succeed, on a Sunday shortly after, left the +house, escorted by her maid Annette, and turned her steps towards the +Bonde Palace, close to the theatre, overlooking the Norrström, in which +lived the famous musician, Adolf Frederik Lindblad, the chief of Swedish +songwriters, her warm admirer, and friend. Into his family she was +received: she found in Madame Lindblad a second mother: and from Herr +Lindblad himself, and from the society into which he brought her, she +inhaled an influence which affected her entire development, artistic, +intellectual, and moral. Of this, we shall have more to say in the +following chapter. In his house she remained until her final departure +for Paris in July, 1841. Back to rooms in that house she came on her +return to Stockholm in 1842. There was her home. There she could rest at +peace. There she found the sympathy, the understanding, the inspiration, +which her nature ardently needed. Though in some points endowed with a +“Finnish” stubbornness, she was, in others, singularly self-distrustful, +uncertain, easily unnerved. She greatly needed an atmosphere of +affection to give her confidence and security. She was passionately +domestic; she must have the assurance of love about her, to save her +from the miseries of suspicion and of distrust, into which her lofty +idealism was very apt to lapse. It was not that she did not have +affection for her parents: on the contrary, she held them very deep in +her heart. But it was impossible for them to enter into her motives and +aims. + +So it happened: and Jenny, now, could at last bring together her life +into a single whole. Her daily surroundings were no longer in collision +with her artistic inspiration. Rather, they aided, fed, succoured it. +Her spirit breathed an air that was congenial and bracing: her heart +found warmth and nourishment in the cherishing kindliness of a family. +The year must have been a happy one. It was full of success. It opened +with a brilliant continuation of her “Alice,” in January, to be repeated +in April, and all through November. She sang, again, in her former parts +of “Agatha,” “Euryanthe,” “Pamina,” “Julia” (the _Vestale_), and +“Marie,” in Herold’s operatic drama of that name. All is now opera: not +a single one of her old comedy parts does she play. She adds to her +score two important characters—“Donna Anna,” in _Don Juan_; and “Lucia,” +in _Lucia di Lammermoor_. This last part, one of her famous _rôles_, had +a furore. She introduced it into Stockholm on May 16th, and played it +for twenty-eight nights in the year. It was after her thirteenth +performance of “Lucia,” that, on June 19th, 1840, a number of the +actors, together with members of the orchestra and chorus, gathered +before her dressing-room and serenaded her; and, on her return home, she +was presented with a silver tea and coffee service, which was ever +highly valued by her, and was left, by specific direction in her will, +to her eldest son. The donors appeared in gala costume, among them being +his Excellency Count J. G. de la Gardie, Count Carl de Geer, Count Carl +Axel Löwenhjelm, Count Gustaf Trolle Bonde, etc., etc. Lindblad’s eldest +daughter, now Mme. Lotten von Feilitzen, remembers well how Jenny Lind +had to go to the window, after receiving the present, to wave her +handkerchief to the crowd that had collected below in the street. +Altogether, she made sixty-nine appearances. + +Two special events may be finally noticed. First, she goes again, at +Whitsuntide, to Upsala; and we have a letter of Geijer, written at the +time, which speaks of the intense interest of Lindblad in his charge. + + “Lindblad, who in the general enchantment is particularly enchanted + with Mdlle. Lind, was also here and staying with us. He left this + morning, upon which Upsala may be likened to a barrel from which the + bottom has been taken out, so that the contents run away.” + +And our old paper, the _Correspondenten_, has some graceful words which +we cannot but insert, for, besides the warm and intelligent enthusiasm +of its praise, it uses the symbol of the nightingale, which became +afterwards her familiar patronymic. + + “But, in addition to Nature’s beautiful singing-birds, there came, + flying thither on Whitsun eve, a nobler nightingale, the famous Jenny + Lind, whose arrival many a one has heartily looked forward to. For, + indeed, she has been the object of a homage such as, in its truest + form, can be given only in a city of culture and of youth. True, it is + in the first place a great, an extraordinary talent one admires in + her; but how infinitely is the value of this artistic power increased + by the unpretending, modest, charming manner, in which it presents + itself to an enraptured listener! With her all seems Nature, simple + and glorious, so as to make one forget what great influence Art has + also exercised on her development. It is by this harmonious + combination of a noble nature and art, that Fröken Jenny Lind in every + respect stands out as of exceptional and unalloyed worth.” + +So goes the judgment of Sweden. It embodies exactly the constant +impression which, year after year, in far lands abroad, she is to +create. Somehow or other, wherever she is to go, and whatever her +triumphs in Denmark, Germany, England, and America, no one can succeed +in recording his experience without arriving at this very identical +conclusion of the Upsala periodical. Always he finds himself saying, +that “great and extraordinary as is the talent which one admires in her, +how infinitely is the value of this artistic power increased by the +modest and charming manner in which it offers itself to the enraptured +listener!” That is it. That is what everyone feels, and what everyone +tries to say. It is this especial interest of her singing to which we +propose to devote the following chapter. Here we pause for a moment in +our narrative of her early dramatic career, and take note of where we +stand. We have followed her from the lowest rung of the ladder—a tiny +mite in the theatre-school, performing its first miraculous feats—to the +high platform on to which she has passed, in secure possession of +unqualified supremacy on her native stage. Nothing has interrupted or +broken this sure progress. It has been a steady upward movement towards +its final bewildering triumph. As a child, she had fascinated by her +acting; as a singer, her very first _début_ had been to her an immediate +and unmistakable revelation of her supreme powers. Her nation have +greeted her with acclamation. Their enthusiasm for her voice can only be +outdone by their enthusiasm for herself. So it is, as we look back along +the road she has travelled. Her troubles have all been domestic. As an +artist, her career has been unchecked and unclouded. She might well +think that she had, at twenty, already touched the summit. All the world +about her was ready to assure her that it was so. How little she herself +thought so, we shall soon see. + +But, before doing so, we are bound to stop and review the personal +character, which had developed under these conditions. What type of +person was the Jenny Lind of whom all Sweden was now talking? + + + + + CHAPTER VI. + CHARACTER. + + +There are artists, in whom their art is so predominant, that, like a +despotism, it concentrates all efforts and capacities upon itself. The +man is absorbed within his main interest. Through it alone does he find +energetic vent. In it he verifies the attributes of genius: he gives +evidence of something in him which is surpassingly excellent: but, +outside its ring-fence, in all the other departments of life and +character, he shows himself as ordinary, and unremarkable as the rest of +us. His artistic genius does not flow over, and animate, his other +sensibilities, and gifts: it abides in itself: and seems, even, to drain +originality out of all rival channels; so that we might think the man +commonplace, and dull, until we saw him transfigured and illuminated in +the exercise of his own peculiar talent. This is a perfectly possible +type of genius: and, because it exists, men are loud in asserting the +proverbial disappointment often felt at meeting, in society, some one +who has been, through his gift, the inspiration of their lives. In the +ordinary affairs with which all are concerned, this glorious hero, this +poet, this musician, with whose fame the world is ringing, shows no +particular power, has no especial facility, may, indeed, prove himself +inferior in judgment and in insight to many a man who prides himself on +making no claim to be a genius. More especially, in the field of +executive art, involving curious and special facilities of organization, +we may expect to come across such surprises as this. + +All the more noticeable then is it, that, in the case of Jenny Lind, the +surprise is all the other way. There is a universal consent, in all who +record her influence, that what they experienced was the effect of a +character whose genius penetrated every corner of her being, so that her +unique gift of song appeared but as an incidental illustration of the +originality which was everywhere in her. Even those who felt her singing +most profoundly, felt ever as she sang, that she was more than her +singing: while those whose lack of musical perception made them +impervious to her special talent, experienced as much as any the full +fascination of her personality. This impression of her belongs to her +early, as well as to her after, years; and it cannot be better given +than in an expressive phrase, used long after our present date, indeed, +but which vividly and exactly embodies what was already so +characteristic of her. “After all, I would rather hear Jenny talk, than +sing, wonderful as that is,” writes Mrs. Stanley, the wife of the Bishop +of Norwich, to her sister, Mrs. Augustus Hare, in September, 1847, after +a rapturous account of what her singing had been. Surely, a most +striking remark to make. The phrase exactly embodies the feeling that +Jenny Lind was, not less, but more, than her Art. What men saw, and +found in her was, not that a common piece of the stuff of human nature +had been caught up, by the artistic inspiration, into some unspeakable +heaven, and been transfigured by some sudden and strange glory which +carried the human spirit beyond itself. No! rather they felt that here +was a character of supreme value, of unique excellence, which had +contrived to find its way down into the world’s scenery, through the +particular channel provided for it by song. Music gave it its chief +opportunity for discovering itself to men; but it itself stood above the +Art which it used as its finest medium of communication. Hence the +intensity of spiritual interest, which greeted her singing. Men seemed +to themselves not so much to be listening to a voice, as to be catching +sight, through the door which music opened, of a high and pure soul, +moving down to them, through the pathway of song, out of some far +untainted home of purity and joy. It was this soul which they greeted +with such amazement, such warmth; it was its felt presence which made +the tears start, always, to their eyes as they listened. It was Jenny +Lind herself, who, by means of her wonderful gift, was the revelation to +them of the heights which it was still open to men to attain. + +And, because this was so, we desire, both in the present chapter, and in +chapters to come, to dwell, especially, on the _social_ impression +produced by her, wherever she went. This book, it is true, is a memoir +of Jenny Lind as the artist. But as she was one of those whose art +reveals a character behind it, out of which its own excellence is drawn; +so it would be impossible to represent the effect of Jenny Lind, as an +artist, without making it continually clear what it was which Mrs. +Stanley meant when she said in 1847, “After all, I would rather hear +Jenny talk than sing,” or, as she wrote again in the same year: “Her +singing is the least part of her charm; she has the simplicity of +genius.” + +We shall have frequent occasion, as our story proceeds, to call +attention to this significant characteristic; as, for instance, to note +that wherever she goes, over the cities of Europe, she is, somehow, +always found to be staying in the house of someone who is of special, +and even European, reputation. Men of this high stamp seem, always, to +foregather with her; she has the entry; she finds her home with them. +And, again, in her own city of Stockholm, where the circumstances of her +life, with which we are familiar, might be expected to stand somewhat in +her way, and where there was, necessarily, so much, in her bringing up, +which would make it difficult for her to break down social barriers, +nothing is more remarkable than her complete acceptance, before she has +passed her girlhood, not only into those circles where details of birth +and position are supposed to be of vital importance, but what is far +more, into those high literary intimacies where nothing but character +counts. + +Let us give illustrations of this. Here is a most graceful and brilliant +picture of a soirée in Stockholm in 1839, which we cannot but give as a +whole. It is perfectly trustworthy, being the record of a lady, still +living, in whose old home the scene took place. Evidently, as all who +read it must feel, the impression of that marked evening stamped itself +upon the girl’s brain, so that every detail stood out sharp and clear, +when, in 1887, nearly fifty years later, she wrote out the sketch. Here +is the account:— + + “It is a cold winter’s evening in the year 1839. In the house of 11 + Regeringsgatan chandeliers and lustres are gradually being lit. Along + the street is stopping a row of closed carriages, which, each in its + turn, drive up to the entrance. Footmen in livery open the + carriage-doors and smart women, followed by men in uniform, get out + cautiously and disappear through the porch of the faintly illuminated + passage. + + “In the first _salon_, where various musical instruments are seen, + they are received by the host, Baron L——, an elderly man, with noble + features, shaded by silver-grey hair, of dignified deportment, and an + air of kindliness and refinement about him generally. Passing through + a smaller ante-chamber, the guests now proceed to the great, + half-round _salon_, where the hostess is awaiting them. She is a tiny + little lady, about thirty, youthful in her movements, with expressive + eyes and a smile of great fun as well as of courtesy, round her lips.” + After describing the arrival of the guests, the account goes on. + + “All of a sudden, the whispering becomes louder, changing tone + altogether, while every head is directed towards the ante-chamber. + + “On the threshold stands the host and by his side, shaking hands with + him, a young girl, with an abundance of curls round the pale cheeks; a + gown in simple style softly clings round the maiden figure, and there + is a dreamy, half-absent, and fascinating look in the deep-set eyes. + + “The hum is increasing still more when the old nobleman leads the + visitor into the midst of his guests; but he has not time to pronounce + her name, it is already on everybody’s lips, and is now flying round + the room with a subdued sound: _Jenny Lind! Jenny Lind!_ + + “The beauties of the season are forgotten, and, what is more, they + forget all about themselves. + + “A singular liveliness is breathing through the hitherto rather formal + company. The hostess attracts both young and old to her animated + conversation with the honoured guest; and every one is gratified who + catches a word or a look from this Jenny Lind who, for the last few + weeks, has, as ‘Alice’ in _Robert le Diable_ and ‘Agatha’ in the + _Freischütz_, captivated and enchanted both themselves and the whole + Stockholm public. + + “Somewhat monosyllabic, at the start, amongst all these strangers, the + guest begins, by-and-by, to shake off her reserve. She smiles an + incredulous smile when one of _la jeunesse dorée_ compares her to ‘la + divine Malibran,’ and laughs openly at some old general’s grotesque + flattery. To a sentimental inquiry as to what heavenly thoughts had + filled her mind when, the preceding evening, she had, as ‘Alice,’ + embraced the cross, she answered, a little hesitatingly: ‘I believe I + was thinking of my old bonnet.’ But, wherever she encounters genuine + and deeper understanding in the compliments uttered, her answers are + sympathetic, almost humble. + + “How the gay party went on, and how Jenny Lind sang the ‘Lieder’ of + Geijer and Lindblad as they never were, nor ever more will be sung—we + must here only glance at. And further how the host and hostess were + obliged to check the too eager wishes of their friends to hear more + and ever more—in order to show that the object of the invitation had + been the personal acquaintance of the charming artist, not only the + enjoyment of her song, lovely though it be. That Jenny Lind was + satisfied with her evening, and, in this _milieu_, found several of + her most enthusiastic and faithful admirers, is quite certain. And, as + she was the first operatic singer received in the best society of the + capital, in which she became a dear and honoured guest, it has seemed + of some interest to preserve a few details of her appearance in this + domain. + + “In the memory of the writer of this paper, Jenny Lind stands out a + unique apparition, like no one else, simple, unpretending, but + dignified—penetrated by a sort of sacred responsibility for her + mission—the mission of Art in its lofty purity—which she felt that God + had confided to her.” + +The last touches of this graphic record will serve to justify our +insistence on this social aspect of Jenny Lind’s life; and to redeem our +motives from the suspicion of any unworthy interest in these formalities +of society. For it is just through this lofty sense of artistic mission +that she took her place amid her fellows. As at Stockholm, so +everywhere, it is this, her spiritual sense of responsibility, which +gave her social distinction, and carried her, in dignified ease, through +these surroundings. It was this, which secured her that aspect of +independence, of detachment, which is so vital, if an artist is to +preserve moral dignity, in face of a “society” which is too apt to +flatter itself that it is doing a favour to those to whom it kindly +permits an entry, and which is encouraged in this self-flattery, if the +artist is obviously grateful for the attention. Nobody could see Mdlle. +Lind for two seconds, and suspect her of any such flattery. She moved +about “like an apparition”: like one “with a mission”: charged with a +serious responsibility. That is her social character: that is her note, +her charm, as this paper beautifully records: and this made all touch of +over-deference to external position absolutely impossible to her. No one +could mistake that free independence: that moral “detachment.” Indeed, +criticism on her social qualities would turn on the very opposite defect +to that at which we have been hinting. It might be said that this +spiritual aloofness gave a sense of haughtiness to her manner in public, +and with those who were not intimate. There was a “hold-off” look—a +drawing away, a critical survey of a new-comer, which made many an +introduction to her, in after years, a moment of supreme agony to those +who had, perhaps, dreamed of that happiness for hours and days before, +but who, now that it had come, and that she was looking them over with a +cold and lofty gaze, could only pray that the earth might yawn and +swallow them up, before things had gone any further. It was a severe +ordeal: and, unquestionably, no worldly rank or position would have the +slightest effect in modifying its severity. + +Again, this spiritual attitude of one “charged with a mission,” made +“Society” most distasteful to her. She hated its frivolous distractions, +its social pettiness, its wearisome routine. She liked “intimates.” And +“Society,” therefore, in admitting her, never felt that it had done her +a great kindness, or that she hung on its favours. Rather, it knew that +something was there in her, which made all social distinctions become +very small matters indeed. For the standards, which her presence forced +to the front, were not “social,” but moral and spiritual: and it was +impossible to have intercourse with her, without becoming conscious of +this: and, tried by those standards, it was she who brought the honour, +not society which conferred it. + +In this temper of moral independence, she passed up, out of the +struggles and clouds of her childhood, into the full sunlight of +success, with absolute ease, without a shadow of encumbering +consciousness, without a breath of worldliness ever crossing her spirit. +She retained, without even an effort, all her inherent and native +simplicity, her freshness, her undaunted sincerity. Never did she +slacken, for a moment, her demand that the worth of men should be +estimated, wholly and utterly, according to their moral value. Never, +for one instant, did the mists of conventionalism dim her vision, or +confuse her insight. She had one set of balances; and one only. She +never even seems to have been tempted to exchange them. Swept up, in the +sudden rush of an overwhelming success, out of obscurity into the +company and the friendship of princes and kings, this girl, in her +simple-hearted virginity, kept a conscience as true and fine as steel. +Failings of another type might be laid to her charge. She could be hasty +and hard, sometimes, in her judgments. She was liable to misunderstand +people. She had vehement impulses, and equally vehement reactions, which +were apt to gain for her, from those who knew her little, the character +of capricious fitfulness. She could magnify slight lapses into great +sins. A certain spiritual haughtiness there was in her; a certain +suspicion of the motives on which she, by bitter experience, learned +that men too often act. All this might be said. But one thing it was for +ever impossible, even for an enemy, to imagine: that Jenny Lind ever +condescended to lower the steady standards by which she tested all human +worth, high or low, rich or poor. Thus it was that she secured, as we +shall hear, “a homage” from the best society in Stockholm, which was +quite peculiar in its type. “Homage!” that is the very word to express +what it was that was given her. One feels it, in the delightful refusal +of the lady of the house, in the sketch just given, to ask her to sing +again, lest she should seem to have been invited for her singing, and +not for her personal qualities. It was this complete acceptance of her, +in her own independent character, which worked a real and lasting change +in the social respect given to actors and actresses in Stockholm, by +which the difficulties that had stood hitherto in their way disappeared. +And this absolute sincerity of character which won her this homage as a +girl of nineteen, remained so entirely untouched to the last, that every +gesture and every look, recorded in that graceful portrait of her +behaviour on her earliest _début_, is familiar to those who only knew +her in the latter years of her English life. That is the very lady whom +they knew: every phrase recalls her. They can see her, as she stands +there, at the entry of the _salon_, when the old nobleman is receiving +her: rather monosyllabic, at first; and, then as she shakes off her +reserve, responding, to any genuine speech, with a sympathy that is +“almost humble.” They can feel her as she bends and smiles +incredulously, at the pretty compliments paid her by the young men: they +can positively hear her laugh as the old generals come up to fumble out +their “grotesque flattery”: they can catch the very ring of her voice, +and the very look in her arch eyes, as she puts off the inquiries as to +the nature of her secret thoughts when clasping the cross in the scene +from _Roberto_, with the mock-serious confession that “she was thinking +of her old bonnet!” “A unique apparition, like no one else; simple, +unpretending, dignified!” How much the words recall! How many a similar +scene was embodied in them! To the very last hour of her life, they +would have been the only possible description of her. Surely, a singular +force of sincerity lay in her, which could make that early picture of +her so speak to those who saw and loved her forty years after, as if it +were alive with her very presence and instinct with her very tones! + +And here, as we speak of her social effect, it is necessary to touch +upon her personal appearance. Yet how useless it seems! No words can be +used which will not convey a wrong or exaggerated impression to those +who never saw her: and to those who have seen and known her, no words +are necessary. Her features were strong, and homely: of a usual Swedish +type, we believe: very pliable, and expressive, especially about the +nose and the mouth; and it was this expressive pliability, which allowed +such strange and delicious transformation to pass over her face, as it +changed from repose to action. At the start, you would pronounce it +plain; but, then, it lent itself to express, in a peculiar degree, the +winning simplicity and freshness of girlhood. It was full of animation, +and into it, moreover, there ever passed the singular grace of her +“pose” and her movements. It was a face which it was delightful to +watch. It could express everything with a graphic intensity that made +one laugh from pure joy. It could brim over with fun: it had an +irresistible archness, when she was amused: it was capable of an almost +awful solemnity: and it could, when she was suspicious and on her guard, +become absolutely stony. A transparent countenance, indeed, on which +every emotion revealed itself with unqualified spontaneity. It was the +ever-changing mirror of her soul, and therefore became charged with +interest: a speaking face, which could captivate by its overflowing +vitality, until it became delightful to observe, and to remember, for +its own sake; and this illumination from within, combined as it was, +with the buoyant movements which filled her whole body, gave her, both +off and on the stage, whenever she was animated, that positive charm, +that personal fascination, which is associated, generally, with beauty. + +She was five feet three to four inches in height: but she held her head +so erect and had trained herself so carefully in standing and walking +that she appeared to be taller. + +All the portraits taken of her, take notice of the fine mould of her +arms, and especially, of their characteristic position, in repose, with +her hands clasped on her lap. In the Stockholm days, she wore her hair +in bunches of curls at each side of the forehead, as is the case in +Södermark’s portrait of her, painted in 1843, which she had in her own +possession. About the year 1844, she seems to have adopted for herself, +that wavy droop of the hair, laid down low about her ears, which became +so familiar and noticeable a mark of her appearance, that it alone +sufficed to make a likeness resemble her. + +The main elements of her character, as of her type of countenance, were +radically national. She was a downright and typical Swede. She was fond +of dwelling on the artistic capacities of her people, to whom she owed +her own quick sensibilities, her alert and receptive imagination, her +vivacity of temperament. She believed them to have all the artist’s +possibilities in them, with all the attendant perils. And, in view of +these perils to which all such gifted natures must be liable, it is +remarkable that she should have included within this national groundwork +of her character, a profound moral stability, a depth of seriousness, +such as would be rare in any race; and, moreover, with this she had a +persistence, a stubbornness, which, among Scandinavian races, is +traditionally attributed to the Finn. And if she had the vivacity of her +people, she inherited also from it the strong, passionate feelings, and +affections, which make the home-relationships, in Sweden, so rooted and +so deep; and, also, that undertone of melancholy, into which such +artistic sensitiveness is prone to react,—an undertone, which seems to +creep, like the sighing of a wounded spirit, out of the black heart of +Swedish pine-woods, and to hover over the wide surfaces of her inland +waters. Such notes of pathos underlie the songs of her people: and she +was a true Swede when she wrote of herself, “When I am alone, you have +no idea how different I am—so happy, yet so melancholy that tears are +rolling down my cheeks unceasingly.” + +This personal impression, which we have faintly suggested, told, as we +have said, not only upon the higher social circles of Stockholm, but +also upon the literary and cultured society, where, again, she formed +affectionate intimacies with the few, and the best. + +Of those two names must yet be mentioned, which embody a special +interest in her life. + +First, A. F. Lindblad, the famous song-writer. We have seen into what +close contact they had been drawn. In his house she found a refuge, and +a home, through which she was brought into constant contact with the +higher culture of the Swedish capital. Lindblad was born in 1801, and +studied music in Berlin, under Zelter: and also in Paris, between +1825–27, after which he returned to Stockholm and lived there until +1864, when he moved to near Linköping. His renown rests, chiefly, on his +songs. + + “They are eminently national, and full of grace and originality, + tinged, with the melancholy which is characteristic of Swedish music. + In short songs, in which extreme simplicity is of the essence of their + charm, his success has been most conspicuous.”[7] + +There can be no doubt that Jenny Lind’s intimacy with Lindblad had an +immense influence on her musical development. Besides the vital effect +of his personality, she heard at his house all the best instrumental +music of the great composers then flourishing: it was there that she was +first introduced to the music of Mendelssohn,—especially to the _Songs +without Words_, which had, just at that time, taken Europe by storm. She +wrote herself, in 1882, after having read, a biography of Lindblad, by +Professor Nyblom:— + + “I have to thank him (Lindblad) for that fine comprehension of art + which was implanted by his idealistic, pure, and unsensual nature into + me, his ready pupil. Subsequently Christianity stepped in, to satisfy + the moral needs, and to teach me to look well into my own soul. Thus + it became to me, both as an artist and as a woman, a higher + chastener.” + +So she described her spiritual progress, looking back to the influence +of Lindblad as anticipatory of that yet deeper hold of the meaning of +Art which was given her under the later dominance of the full Christian +ideal. Not only did she repay, in counterinfluence, all the attention +that Lindblad concentrated upon her, but also, she by her singing, +carried the fame of his songs all over Europe. And still, in long after +years, in England, in hours of lonely quiet, or at times when she was +depressed and needed comfort, she would sit at the piano and “croon” +over to herself those songs of Lindblad’s, which had in them so many +memories—memories that had passed into her very being, of far days in +the old country, when those sounds, so saturated with the inspiration of +her home, were first in her ears, and she was tasting the spring +sweetness of her fresh young powers. + +And, secondly, we must mention the great name of Erik Gustaf Geijer, a +man at the very summit of Swedish literature. Born in 1783, he became +Professor of History at the University of Upsala in 1816, where his +lectures had unexampled popularity. In spite of the offer of a +bishopric, Professor he still remained, planning the great history of +Sweden, of which his introduction was a masterpiece of skill and +knowledge: and producing various historical works. He was much occupied +with political and economical speculations; and for thirty years +continued to be one of the chiefs of the Swedish literary world. He died +on April 23, 1847. Besides his historical and political work, he had a +real talent for music; and published a volume of songs, of which +Lindblad wrote a famous account.[8] Through music, he crossed the path +of Jenny Lind; and in her he took a most warm interest. + + “Jenny and I have become very good friends,” he writes in January, + 1840. “I call her ‘Thou,’ and she calls me ‘Uncle.’ She is a simple + attractive being. Lindblad and Madame Lindblad both stand to her in + almost fatherly and motherly relation, which becomes both parties very + well. All the same, I am afraid she is a kind of ‘comet’ which may + interfere with their domestic peace, for comets have tails; and their + house is besieged by Jenny’s admirers, who now may be said to consist + of the whole public.” + + Again, in March, he writes: “Jenny Lind sang two of my songs, _i.e._ + ‘_The Drawing-Room or the Wood_,’ and ‘_Spring, will it come?_’ It was + quite excellent. I went behind the curtain to thank her, and + accompanied her home to her door. I do not think lightly of the good + graces in which I believe myself to stand with her.” + +For her he wrote songs, both words and music; and it is in one of these +songs that we discover the record both of his estimation of her +character, and also of the profound effect which such an estimate, +coming from such a man, had upon her to whom it was addressed. And, +indeed, we cannot wonder at this effect: for the author of the song is +not afraid to acknowledge, in this fresh young girl, the signs and omens +of that supreme genius, which is the highest born of Heaven, and which, +yet, because it is highest, is also as a “consuming flame,” to which the +devoted and sacrificial Will must yield itself, as a victim, offered on +an altar. The deep and serious import of such momentous words, addressed +to her by the highest intellectual authority of her native land, and +ranking her, the young opera-singer from the Theatre School, with that +rare band of spiritual heroes whose lives are as a torch lit by divine +fire, must have been as a revelation; and the traces of this remain on a +copy of these verses, in her own handwriting, found among her papers, +across the bottom of which she has written, “On these words I was +launched into the open sea.” To her they marked the date at which she +felt herself a public, an historic, character. For her they contained +the secret of her mission, of her expectations, of her future. She was +to move out into the open day of her fame, not to win a reputation, not +to enjoy, not to taste triumph, not to satisfy her own craving for +expression, not to find a world of honour, and wealth, and ease. Nay! +She was to be clad about with prophetic solemnity. She was to yield +herself to the stern necessities of genius: she was to consume, in +giving: the steps up which she was ever to be passing were to be the +steps of an altar: and she was the sacrifice. Such were the words that +were behind her when she found herself “launched into the open sea.”[9] + +We give them in a free and rough translation:— + + “Oh! if from yon Eternal Fire, + Which slays the souls that it sets free— + Consuming them, as they aspire— + One burning spark have fallen on thee! + + “Fear not! Though upward still it haste, + That living fire, that tongue of flame! + _Thy_ days it turns to bitter waste; + But ah! from heaven—from heaven it came!” + + + + + CHAPTER VII. + PILGRIMAGE. + + +The sign of the sacrifice was already upon her, in the year 1840. On the +surface, she had everything which could satisfy her. She had become the +idol of the National Drama. She had been made Member of the Royal +Swedish Academy of Music in 1840, and had received the high official +recognition by being appointed Court-singer on the 13th of January, +1840, by His Majesty Carl Johan. This was an honour which her mother had +already been anticipating, from the summer of 1839, and had rejoiced +over the fact that it included a salary. “It is a great mark of +distinction,” she writes to her husband; “and a great joy for us!” She +had the best social “world” at her feet. She enjoyed the delightful +companionship of some of the most cultivated men and women in Sweden. +Her position at the Royal Theatre was assured her. The Directors were, +at the very moment, proposing to her a fresh and advanced contract. +Indeed, we shall see that their zeal outran their discretion and their +proper consideration for her; for they were but too anxious to use her +gifts at the risk of over-straining them. Her popularity was at its +height; she was pursued with enthusiasm. The musical authorities of +Stockholm had no more to teach her; they were content to praise her as +the perfect exponent of their art. + +And, yet, what was it that worked within the girl’s heart, and told her +that all this was as nothing—told her that, far from having reached the +end, she was not even at the beginning—told her that her art had secrets +yet to unfold to her, and that this adulation which encompassed her was +but a prophecy of what she ought to become hereafter? As she bowed in +courteous acknowledgment of the loud plaudits of an enthusiastic +theatre, she heard, above all the genial tumult, this “still, small +voice” within, which said to her, “Yes! you may some day live to deserve +that kindly, that encouraging applause; but to-day you know that, by +rights, it is not yours. It is given you, in spite of yourself. But you +have that in you which may, indeed, deserve to receive that which is +generously offered you, in anticipation, to-day. Far away, over the sea, +the secret is kept which will unlock the shut doors, and will set free +your true self. There it is that Art will disclose the mystery, which is +now felt but not perceived—the mystery that moves veiled behind the +glory of to-day’s success.” It was the inspiration of genius which spoke +to her. She had but her own soul to trust to. She had no ideal, no +articulate standard given her, by which to test herself; yet she knew +her lack—she felt what she was missing. And, in so feeling, she knew, +also, that, to discover the ideal, to win that which was lacking, all +her present triumph must be surrendered—must be thrown to the winds. The +voice within must be obeyed at all costs; out over the sea, far from +home and its happy honours, she must seek, alone and undirected, the +meaning of the mysterious summons. Surely the pressure of the prophetic +words was upon her— + + “Fear not, though upward still it haste, + That living fire, that tongue of flame! + _Thy_ days it turns to bitter waste; + But ah! from heaven—from heaven it came!” + +So it was that she took her own resolution. We give it in her own +remarkable words. They were written in answer to the new proposals made +by the Directors, who, on the 15th of December, 1840, “wishing,” as they +said, “most particularly to attach to the Swedish stage a talent so +eminent as the Court-singer Fröken Jenny Lind, make her the highest +offer of which their regulations afford them the power.” This highest +offer was, it is true, not extravagant; it ensured her £150 a year; it +provided her with all her costumes out of theatrical funds; it allowed +her one “benefit” every year; and special “extra service money for the +parts in which she appears.” It offered her the months of July and +August for study abroad; and promised to try to extend this interval. +The engagement was to last for the full period permitted, _i.e._ three +years. + +To this Fröken Lind sent the following answer:— + + “_To the Directors of the Royal Theatre._ + + “In reply to the letter from the Directors of the Royal Theatre, dated + 15th December last year, I have the honour to state as follows: The + musical and dramatic capabilities which, from my earliest years, I + have felt myself to possess, have, thanks to the cultivation received + at home, though hitherto insufficient, still been able to attract some + attention to my dawning talent; but it is not with half-developed + natural gifts, however happy, that an artist can keep his ground; and, + greatly as I prize the appreciation I have been fortunate enough + already to win, I feel I ought to consider it not so much a homage to + the artist I was and am, as an encouragement to what I might become. + + “With this conviction, and in order to attain the artistic perfection + open to me, I have thought it a duty to do what I can, and not to draw + back before any sacrifice, either of youth, health, comfort, or + labour, not to speak of the modest sum I have managed to save, in the + hope of reaching what may, perhaps, prove an unattainable aim. In + consequence, I have decided on a journey to, and a sojourn at, some + place abroad, which, through furnishing the finest models in art, + would prove to me of the greatest profit. + + “It is, then, chiefly this journey which constitutes the real obstacle + to my immediately accepting, in its entirety, the kind offer of the + Directors of the Royal Theatre; for it defers, for another year, the + possibility of my re-engagement. I am in hopes, however, that the + Royal Directors will not disapprove of my resolution, all the more as + it aims solely at perfecting myself in my art; while all sacrifices, + inseparable from a similar undertaking, will fall on myself alone. + Trusting that the Royal Directors will accord to these reasons due + consideration, and, in accordance with the request made in their kind + letter, I beg leave to submit my counter-proposals. + + “On returning to my native country, next year, I undertake to serve at + the Royal Theatre for the two following years at the salary proposed + by the Royal Directors in the above-mentioned letter of the 15th + December last, but with the following modifications: that my + engagement, for each year, may not exceed eight months, viz., from 1st + October unto the following 31st May, so that a leave of the four + months, June, July, August and September may be accorded to me. + + “Furthermore, I must, rather as a humble petition, than as a condition + for my return to the service of the Royal Theatre, express my wish to + be free this year from next 31st May, since in the beginning of June + an opportunity offers for me to start on my intended journey in + company with a family without whose protection I should not venture to + undertake it. I hope the Royal Directors will, kindly, give due weight + to this invaluable advantage, and, in view of its importance to me, + excuse my earnest request. + + “JENNY LIND. + + “Stockholm, 9 February, 1841.” + +A notable document, this. Had she any counsel to aid her in its +production? Did Berg, did Lindblad advise the step? We have no record of +such advice from them. Both, indeed, seem to have agreed to the step, +and to favour its carrying out; for Berg is found with her at the start +in Paris; and it is only out of her own delicate affection for her +former master that she delays her beginning with the next one. Moreover, +she owns to having consulted him as to what was to be done when it +became clear to him as to her, that he had no more to teach her. +Lindblad, also, visits her in Paris, and interests himself in her final +fortunes there. But, still, there is no sign of their being the prime +movers. No evidence exists of her seeking other counsel than her own +heart in making the final decision. + +Yet two influences there were that told strongly upon her at the time, +and urged her forward. The first was theoretical and ideal: it was that +of Geijer. He was clear that she belonged to mankind, rather than to +Sweden, and he pressed upon her the necessity of widening her range of +knowledge and skill. She, herself, attributed the momentum that drove +her afield to Geijer’s insistence. “He kicked me out ... into the great +world,” she would say, with humorous vigour. The second influence was +direct, and practical. It was the example of Belletti, the celebrated +barytone, then singing with her at the Royal Theatre. He showed her, +vividly, what scientific singing in the great Italian manner really +meant; and he would be able, if consulted as to where such style could +be gained, to say at once,—“At Paris, under Garcia.” + +The decision, then, from which she is not to draw back, even at “the +sacrifice of youth, health, comfort, and of her modest savings,” appears +to be largely the issue of her own insight, and deliberation. Later on, +in Paris, she speaks as if it were her own “artistic conscience” whose +dictates she had obeyed. Certainly, it was left to her own courage and +resolution to find the funds by which to carry it out. And it was, for +this end, that she had already in the summer of 1840 set out on a +provincial round of concerts, accompanied by her father; in which she, +probably, wore out what remained of her voice after the hard work of the +theatrical season, but, in compensation, won triumphant successes and +accumulated supplies that would carry her through a year’s training at +Paris, whither she was determined to go and discover the true secret of +song. + +We have a letter from her written, in the middle of this tour, towards +the early part of July, to her friend Louise Johansson, from Malmö, at +the extreme south of Sweden, whence she could actually see Copenhagen, +in which she records how things have gone in the series of towns through +which she has passed. “The journey has gone off well enough, thank God! +That is to say, the roads were so bad that the wheels, now and then, +sank a foot deep into the mud, and it was very horrid sitting about in +the atrocious weather; but as soon as I arrive in a town, and see the +exceeding great kindness and friendliness the people have for me, then I +feel it wicked to grumble. You cannot think to what an extent they all +vie with each other in serving me. It is quite astonishing!” + +The letter closes with a commission which shows how very early in life +her characteristic charities had begun:— + + “My dear Louisa, would you be kind enough to render me the service of + going to Clara Vestra, Kyrkogata 13 or 25. I am not sure which of + these numbers is the right one, but after you have crossed the Clara + churchyard, and when you arrive at the gate on the Vestragatan, turn + to the left, then it is the first door on the right-hand side, on the + ground floor. Ask for Bruhn, the painter, a poor sick man ill in bed + these last fourteen years; I forgot to bring him his monthly + allowance, before coming away; will you be good enough to give him, on + my behalf, 8 r. d. banco, and to tell him this is for the months of + July and August. Greet him much from me, as also his wife, and pardon + your friend who troubles you in this way. + + “JENNY.” + +A note is here struck, which is to sound on through her life. It +expresses one of the most vital instincts of her nature—an instinct +which roots itself deep down in her artistic impulses—this instinct +which bids her dedicate her gift to the cause of the poor, and the +unhappy. That in her which made her an artist, made her also charitable. +It was the sense of possessing a gift which prompts the giving. That +which had flowed in, must flow out. She was responsible for her great +possession; she held it in trust; she must put it out to use. It was no +mere liberality of disposition; it was no mere genial beneficence; it +was an obligation, binding, and urgent; a joyful duty; a holy privilege +which it would be a sin to neglect. Everything in her which made her +recognise the powers lodged in her to be a divine endowment, made her, +by a like impulse, recognise her duty to give away what she gained. No +one will understand her, who does not see how closely her charity was +interwoven with her art; and how it was that, in after days, in deciding +the question of marriage, she made it the prime necessity that her +husband should leave her free in her charities. It is because it was so +interwoven, that it seemed to her to be no work of merit; it was done by +a plain law of right; it was spontaneous, natural, inevitable. So it is +that already, at twenty, in the flush of youth and personal success, her +nature is at work with instinctive security; she has found out the poor +sick painter; and, quite modestly apologising for the trouble, just as +if she were giving a commission to buy something at a shop, she begs her +friend to see to it that he gets what he had the right to look for from +her. + +Back to Stockholm she got in August, where she was singing in _Lucia di +Lammermoor_, on August 19th; and all through the autumn, and spring, she +is hard at work, fulfilling her bond to the Directors, though, owing to +her concert-tour, she had had no holiday whatever. No wonder, that her +voice was left fatigued and strained after such unintermittent work, +with all the weariness of incessant journeys, and the anxieties that +beset new appearances in unfamiliar rooms. It was in this effort to +raise funds by which to reach Paris, that she ran so near to doing +irreparable damage to her vocal powers. Twenty-three times does she +perform in _Lucia_, between August 19th, when she returned, and June +19th, when she closed her engagement. Fourteen times did she give +“Alice,” in _Roberto_; and nine times she repeated her former _rôle_ of +“Agatha” in the _Freischütz_. And, besides these, there were incidental +appearances; in the _Zauberflöte_ as “Pamina”; in _The Swiss Family_ as +“Emmelina”; and, seven times, as “Alaida” in Bellini’s _Straniera_. And, +moreover, there were concerts at the theatre, in which she sang, on +August 27th, and October 17th, and November 14th, and on January 11th +and 20th. And, finally, for the closing nights in May and June, came her +first seven performances of _Norma_. At the last of the concerts, she +had sung, as her piece, a duet from _Norma_, with Mme. Gelhaar, her old +playmate in the school. And, on May 19th, the full opera was produced, +in which her own people recognised, and greeted, one of her most +brilliant and impressive impersonations. + +With _Norma_ she ended, on June 19th; it was her 447th appearance on the +boards of the Royal Theatre, since, as a tiny child of ten, she played +“Angela” in _The Polish Mine_, on November 29th, 1830. The Directors +had, indeed, been justified by the venture they made with the little +creature, whom they sent on the stage to dance and sing before she had +been many months at the school. She had well repaid them. For her +sixty-nine performances in the year 1840, she is only receiving, besides +the regulation play money, 1100 r. d. banco—about £95 a year. Her voice +is fatigued, and worn; she has done more work than she could rightly +afford. But her spirit is not looking back, but ahead. She is not +calculating her present gains; but is all on fire with the great hope, +that is astir within her, at the bidding of which she will wander out, a +pilgrim of Art, seeking the better country, sure that there is a vision +to be seen, a victory to be won, to which as yet she has not even come +nigh. + +She has found her opportunity; and has made her resolution. Some good, +kind friends, M. and Madame von Koch, in whose house she found constant +friendship and affection, have arranged for her journey, and have lent +her a maid, as a companion. A safe road is thus laid open for her to +Paris. So, on June 21st, she gave, in the Ladugårdslands Church, a final +concert on her own behalf, singing an aria from _Anna Bolena_, and +another from _Norma_; winding up with a ‘Lyrical Farewell,’ written and +composed, for the occasion, by Lindblad; and, in July, she leaves the +Lindblads’ house, and enters on the pilgrimage which was to mean so +much. Home has been gracious to her; she loves her country which has +loved her so freely; her one desire is to return to Stockholm, worthy of +the enthusiasm which it has poured about her. But home cannot tell her +the great secret. Somewhere else it lies, far off; she must seek it, and +find it, even though, on its behalf, she sacrifice “youth, health, +comfort, labour, and savings.” + + + + + BOOK II. + ASPIRATION. + + + + + CHAPTER I. + IN PARIS. + + +On Thursday, the first of July, 1841, Mdlle. Lind embarked, on the +steamship _Gauthiod_, for Lübeck; attended by a trusty female companion, +recommended to her by Madame von Koch. + +“The dear little girl,” wrote Madame Lindblad, “was almost crushed. I +never thought that it would cost her so much. On the last night she +never slept, but wrote letters the whole night through, coming +occasionally into our rooms to have a good cry. On the first of July she +left, at 11 o’clock, A.M.” + +After a few days of rest and enjoyment, she proceeded with her companion +to Hâvre by the steamboat; and thence, by diligence, to Paris. + +To a nature so sensitive, the change from the natural simplicity of +domestic life in Sweden, to the restless activity of the French capital, +with its crowded streets, its ceaseless craving for pleasure and +excitement, its passion for amusement, its caprices of fashion, and +above all, its splendid theatres, its art-collections, and priceless +opportunities for mental cultivation and improvement—to such a nature, +all this, so new, so unexpected, and, in many respects, so strangely +incomprehensible, must have been fraught with an all-absorbing interest. + +And we must not forget, that the Paris of fifty years ago was a city, +very different from, and, in many respects, very much more interesting +than, that in which it delights us to spend our holidays to-day—an older +Paris, as different from the Paris of to-day, as the Hamburg of to-day +is, from the Hamburg that suffered in the conflagration of 1842. + +It was to this older Paris that Mdlle. Lind repaired, in the summer of +the year 1841, in the hope of perfecting herself in the technicalities +of the Art she so dearly loved—that Art of Singing, of whose mysteries +she knew so little, and longed to know so much; and the details of which +she found it so impossible to acquire satisfactorily in Stockholm. + +For her advancement in Dramatic Art, she trusted to herself alone. No +one could teach her to act, and she sought no teacher, for her method +was part of herself; she needed no help for this. But her need of a +competent _Maestro di Canto_ was a very pressing one, indeed; and she +had long been convinced that one, and one only, could teach her what she +so much desired to know. But it will be readily understood that the +assistance and hearty co-operation of such a master as she needed were +not to be had for the mere asking; and some little time elapsed before +her desire was accomplished. + +On first reaching Paris, she found a comfortable home with a family +named Ruffiaques, who kept a boarding-house, in a street near the Rue +Neuve des Augustins. + +Here, she was visited by Madame Berg, the wife of her former +singing-master, who was then staying in Paris, with her little invalid +son, Albert; and, also, by Herr Blumm, a Swedish gentleman of kindliest +disposition and infinite _bonhomie_, who held the appointment of +_Chancelier_ to the Swedish Legation, in the Rue d’Anjou, and to whom +she was indebted for innumerable acts of courtesy and kindness, during +the period of her residence in Paris. + +On leaving Sweden, she had brought with her letters of introduction from +Queen Desideria,[10] to her relative, the Duchesse de Dalmatie (Madame +la Maréchale Soult); and, soon after her arrival in Paris, she was +invited by this lady to an afternoon reception. It was understood that +she would be asked to sing: and, by invitation of the Duchesse, Signor +Manuel Garcia, the brother of Madame Malibran and Madame Viardot, and +the most renowned _Maestro di Canto_ in Europe, came to hear her. + +She sang some Swedish songs, accompanying herself on the pianoforte; +but, either through nervousness, or fatigue, she does not appear to have +done herself justice, and her singing seems to have produced no very +favourable effect upon the assembled guests. Her voice was worn, not +only from over-exertion, but from want of that careful management which +can only be acquired by long training under a thoroughly competent +master. Such training she had never had. She had formed her own ideal of +the difficult _rôles_ that had been entrusted to her at the Royal +Theatre in Stockholm, and had tried to reach that ideal by the only +means she knew of—means, very pernicious indeed. The result was, that +the voice had been very cruelly injured. The mischief had been seriously +aggravated by the fatigue consequent upon her long and arduous +provincial tour; and the effect was a chronic hoarseness, painful enough +to produce marked symptoms of deterioration upon the fresh young voice, +which had never been taught either the method of production, or the +cultivation of style necessary for the development of its natural charm. + +Signor Garcia was not slow to perceive all this; and he afterwards told +a lady, who questioned him upon the subject, that Mdlle. Lind was, at +that time, altogether wanting in the qualities needed for presentation +before a highly-cultivated audience. + +Soon after this, Mdlle. Lind called, by appointment, upon Signor Garcia, +who then occupied a pleasant _deuxième étage_, in a large block of +houses in the Square d’Orléans, near the Rue Saint Lazare. As, on this +occasion, she formally requested the great _Maestro_ to receive her as a +pupil, he felt it his duty to examine her voice more carefully than he +had been able to do at Madame Soult’s afternoon party; and, after making +her sing through the usual scales, and forming his own opinion of the +power and compass of the vocal registers, he asked her to sing the +well-known scena from _Lucia di Lammermoor_—“_Perche non ho_.” In this, +unhappily, she broke completely down—in all probability, through +nervousness, for she had appeared in the part of “Lucia,” at the +Stockholm Theatre, no less than thirty-nine times only the year before, +and the music must, therefore, have been more than familiar to her. +However, let the cause have been what it might, the failure was +complete; and, upon the strength of it, the Maestro pronounced his +terrible verdict—“It would be useless to teach you, Mademoiselle; you +have no voice left”—“_Mademoiselle, vous n’avez plus de voix_.”[11] + +The effect of this sentence of hopeless condemnation upon an +organisation so highly strung as that of Mdlle. Lind may be easily +conceived. But her courage was equal to the occasion, though she told +Mendelssohn, years afterwards, that the anguish of that moment exceeded +all that she had ever suffered in her whole life. Yet, her faith in her +own powers never wavered for an instant. There was a fire within her +that no amount of discouragement could ever quench. + +Instead, therefore, of accepting his verdict as a final one, she asked, +with tears in her eyes, what she was to do. Her trust in the _Maestro’s_ +judgment was no less firm than that which she felt in the reality of her +own vocation. In the full conviction that, if she could only persuade +him to advise her, his counsel would prove invaluable, she did not +hesitate to make the attempt; and the result fully justified the +soundness of her conclusions. Moved by her evident distress, he +recommended her to give her voice six weeks of perfect rest; to abstain, +during the whole of that time, from singing even so much as one single +note; and to speak as little as possible. And, upon condition that she +strictly carried out these injunctions, he gave her permission to come +to him again, when the period of probation was ended, in order that he +might then see whether anything could be done for her. + +To any really earnest aspirant, six weeks of enforced idleness would +have been a martyrdom. For Mdlle. Lind, such a period of inaction was +simply impossible. Disobedience to the _Maestro’s_ orders was, of +course, out of the question. But, if she was forbidden to sing, or to +speak, she was, at least, permitted to read, and write. Never doubting, +for a moment, of her ultimate success, she knew that she would, one day, +have to sing in Italian, and possibly, also, in French. She therefore +spent the six weary weeks in the diligent study of those languages; and +there are actually in existence, at this moment, no less than sixty-one +large foolscap pages, in her own handwriting, closely filled with +exercises in Italian grammar, and twenty-three similar pages in French, +the greater part of which appear to have been completed during this +trying period; not mere scattered memoranda, but systematic work, +genders of nouns, conjugations of irregular verbs, long lists of +exceptions, and other like matters, such as would have been executed by +an industrious student on the eve of a severe critical examination. + +But, the time was a weary one, nevertheless. Her nerves were excited to +the last degree of tension, and never did she forget the exasperating +effect of the cries which, day after day, reached her, from the street, +as the long dull hours dragged on. Two of these she imitated, sometimes, +when speaking of her Paris life, in the presence of her daughter, who +thus noted down the “words and music.” + +[Illustration: + + Haricots, haricots verts! + Ah! le vitrier! +] + +The first of these street-melodies speaks for itself. The second is the +cry of a wandering glazier; and may still be heard, in the poorer +streets of Paris, sung by men who carry panes of glass on their backs, +to mend broken windows. + +Intense indeed must have been the relief, when the time of probation +expired, at last. Once more, Mdlle. Lind sought an interview with the +master; and, this time, her hopes were crowned with success. Signor +Garcia found the voice so far re-established, by rest, that he was able +to give good hope of its complete restoration, provided that the faulty +method of production which had so nearly resulted in its destruction was +abandoned; and, with the view of attaining this important end, he agreed +to give her two lessons, regularly, every week—an arrangement which set +all her anxieties at rest, and for which she was deeply grateful, to the +end of her life.[12] + +The delight of the artist, at being once more permitted to sing, may be +readily imagined. Though discouraged, sometimes, by the immense amount +she had to learn—and, with still greater difficulty, to unlearn—she +never lost heart; and so rapidly did the vocal organs recover from the +exhaustion from which they had been suffering, that, before long, she +was able to practise her scales and exercises for many hours daily. + +The lessons appear to have begun about the twenty-fifth, or twenty-sixth +of August; and to have been continued, twice a week, from that period, +until the month of July, 1842. + +Mdlle. Lind thus describes her first introduction to the new system, in +a letter to her friend, Fröken Marie Ruckman:— + + “Paris, Sept. 10, 1841. + + “I have already had five lessons from Signor Garcia, the brother of + Madame Malibran. I have to begin again, from the beginning; to sing + scales, up and down, slowly, and with great care; then, to practise + the shake—awfully slowly; and, to try to get rid of the hoarseness, if + possible. Moreover, he is very particular about the breathing. I trust + I have made a happy choice. Anyhow, he is the best master; and, + expensive enough—twenty francs for an hour. But, what does that + signify, if only he can teach me to sing? Mdlle. Nissen has been his + pupil, now, for two years, and has made immense progress.” + +A fortnight later, she writes to Madame Lindblad:— + + “I am well satisfied with my singing-master. With regard to my weak + points, especially, he is excellent. I think it very fortunate for me + that there exists a Garcia. And I believe him, also, to be a very good + man. If he takes but little notice of us, apart from his lessons— + well!—that cannot be helped; but I am very much pleased, nay! + enchanted with him as a teacher.”[13] + +And, again, to Herr Expeditionschef Forsberg:— + + “Paris, February 1, 1842. + + “Garcia’s method is the best, of our time; and the one which all here + are striving to follow.” + +And, it is pleasant to know that the _Maestro_ was equally well pleased +with his pupil, who, in a still later letter, writes:— + + “Paris, March 7, 1842. + + “You know, to-day, four years ago, I made my _début_ in _Der + Freischütz_.—No! five years ago, I mean. No! it is four, I think.— + Well! yes! I do not know.—Anyhow, it was on the 7th of March.[14] + + “My singing is getting on quite satisfactorily, now. I rejoice + heartily in my voice; it is clear, and sonorous, with more firmness, + and much greater agility. A great, great deal still remains to be + done; but the worst is over. Garcia is satisfied with me.” + +The teaching she now received was, evidently, the exact thing Mdlle. +Lind needed. Of the management of the breath, the production of the +voice, the blending of its registers, and other technical details upon +which the most perfect of singers depends, in great measure, for +success, she knew nothing—and, but for Signor Garcia, in all probability +never would have known anything. But, of that which concerned the higher +life of her art, neither Signor Garcia nor any one else could teach her +anything at all. She evidently felt this, herself; for, long years +afterwards, she wrote:— + + “The greater part of what I can do in my Art, I have myself acquired, + by incredible labour, in spite of astonishing difficulties. By Garcia + alone have I been taught some few important things. God had so plainly + written within me what I had to study; my ideal was, and is, so high, + that I could find no mortal who could in the least degree satisfy my + demands. Therefore I sing after no one’s method—only, as far as I am + able, after that of the birds; for, their Master was the only one who + came up to my demands for truth, clearness, and expression.”[15] + +But, though thus dependent upon her own natural genius for the high +qualities which placed her above the greatest of her contemporaries in +everything which concerned her loftiest aspirations in the realm of Art, +she was none the less grateful to Signor Garcia for the “few important +things” which gave her her first practical insight into the _technique_ +of singing—an insight, without which, as she herself felt, she would +never have been able to bring her own great artistic ideal to +perfection. + + + + + CHAPTER II. + THE STUDENT. + + +For some few weeks after her first interview with Signor Garcia, and her +subsequent entrance upon a course of regular study under his guidance, +Mdlle. Lind continued to reside with Madame Ruffiaques. But she soon +awoke to the conviction that a boarding-house was scarcely a fitting +place for continuous and undisturbed study; and—a still more serious +consideration—she found that the terms for board and lodging were too +high for her slender means. It was really necessary that she should go +to a cheaper and a more convenient home; but the removal was not +effected without tears on either side. Madame Ruffiaques cried bitterly +when she left, saying that they had all “hoped for a longer stay on her +part,” and “could scarcely have believed such dignity of conduct +possible in a young person coming alone to Paris.” But it was +indispensable that the step should be taken. Towards the close of +October, therefore, she removed to the house of Mdlle. du Puget; a lady, +who, though not a Swede by birth, had been educated in Sweden, was +thoroughly Swedish in all her thoughts and habits, and had familiarised +the French with the literature of Sweden by her excellent translations +of many well-known Swedish works. + +Though a pleasant, and, in many ways, a sympathetic companion, Mdlle. du +Puget was not free from certain amusing peculiarities which Mdlle. Lind +occasionally described with genuine good humour. In a letter to Madame +Lindblad, dated, “Paris, November 26, 1841,” she narrates an amusing +little episode:— + + “You must know that I am beginning to be an ape—a fact of which I was + not aware until yesterday. I was singing to Mdlle. du Puget, and she + seemed a little bit surprised when, just once or twice, I displayed + all my powers—_you_ know what I mean—and she looked at me as if she + had not given me credit for this. (Mdlle. du Puget—you must know—is a + person who has heard all the great artists, and is herself musical.) + First, I sang ‘in Persiani’s style,’ and then ‘in Grisi’s’; and she + was kind enough to say it was excellently _imitated_—‘could not, in + fact, be better.’ The compliment was rather hard to digest. I was so + ashamed, that, for a long while, I could not look up. But, after a + considerable pause, I asked, ‘Do you really think so?’—with a feeling + of pride which my look—even the look of my back—must surely have + reflected. God help me! I am so proud that I cannot bear people to + tell me I ‘imitate.’ I loathe the very word to such an extent that I + cannot conceive what its inventor was thinking of! It seems to me, + that to take what is another’s, and use it for one’s self, and then to + make believe that it is one’s own, is positively to steal. But, I + seize so quickly the impression of what is good, or bad, that I should + not feel surprised if I have caught something from the Italian Opera, + which I have already visited pretty frequently. But be this as it may, + the reminiscences I am carrying away from the Italian Opera here are + much better than those connected with Stockholm and the school and + style that prevail there.” + +But Mdlle. Lind was not deprived of the companionship of critics better +able than Mdlle. du Puget to appreciate her talents at their true value. +Her most intimate friend, at this period, was Mdlle. Henrietta +Nissen,[16] who was also a pupil of Garcia, and a great favourite with +the master. The two talented young vocalists frequently sang together; +and, before long, a feeling of generous rivalry sprang up between them, +which must have been of infinite advantage to both. Mdlle. Lind thus +describes her young friend in a letter to Madame Lindblad:— + + “Paris, August 19, 1841. + + “Yesterday I went to see Mdlle. Nissen, to whom I go pretty often; and + we sang to one another. She has a beautiful voice. Still, I think I + agree with what Adolf once said—‘it is getting a little thin in the + upper notes.’ But, notwithstanding this, it is a splendid voice. In + future we are going to have music together at Herr Blumm’s.” + +The meetings at Herr Blumm’s became an institution. A month later, she +writes:— + + “Paris, September 19, 1841. + + “I am just expecting Philippe[17]—not King Philippe!—who is going to + take me to Herr Blumm’s, where Mdlle. Nissen is waiting for us, with + an old relative of hers; and we four are going somewhere into the + country for the day. She is a very sweet girl. I am really glad to + have made her acquaintance. The divine song draws us to each other.” + +But there were other bonds of sympathy between them, besides those +cemented by their mutual love for “the divine song.” When Christmas drew +near, Mdlle. Lind’s heart was torn by yearnings for home. As the time +approached she wrote to Madame Lindblad:— + + _“Paris, December 9, 1841._ + + “Do you know what I am doing, besides writing to you? I am munching + away—at what?—just guess!—at a bit of genuine Swedish + _Knäckebröd_,[18] which Herr Blumm has brought me.... Ah! think of me, + when you go to the _Julotta_,[19] for it is the most glorious thing + your poor Jenny knows of.” + +And again:— + + “Paris, December 16, 1841. + + “Ah! who? who will light the Christmas Tree for my mother? No one; no + one! She has no child who can bring her the least pleasure. If you + knew how she is ever before me! how constantly she is in my thoughts! + how she gives me courage to work! how I love her, as I never loved her + before!” + +And, in the midst of this cruel burst of home-sickness, good +Mademoiselle du Puget bethought her of an expedient, of which we hear in +another letter, written four days after Christmas:— + + “Paris, December 29, 1841. + + “Christmas Eve passed off better than I expected; for Mademoiselle du + Puget went to fetch the dear sweet Nissen, and, all of a sudden, as I + was standing in my room alone, she came creeping in to me. We sang + duets together—but my thoughts strayed homewards.” + +It is beautiful, as the time progresses, to mark the utter absence of +jealousy which characterised this rare artistic friendship between two +young students, each of whom had a reputation to ensure, and a name to +render famous. + +On April 3, 1812, she writes:— + + “Do you know that Nissen is just upon the point of concluding an + engagement for three years at the Italian Opera? For the first year, + she is offered four thousand riksdaler banco;[20] and, when the three + years are over, she will, no doubt, be able to command from sixty to + seventy thousand riksdaler banco[21] per annum. Ah, yes! God help her! + She is a nice good girl. Yet, notwithstanding all this, I am contented + with my own lot, and would not change with any one, though my + prospects for the future are poor, and dark.” + +And again on May 1:— + + “I am not depressed on Mademoiselle Nissen’s account. Ah, no! Besides, + how foolish it would be not to stand aside for a merit greater than my + own—and this I do. Thank God! I feel no jealousy, and—shall I tell + you?—it is true that I can never get her voice; but I am quite + satisfied with my own. And, furthermore, I shall be able, in time, to + learn all that she knows; but she can never learn what I know. Do you + understand? She is a nice girl; and, with all my heart, I wish her + every happiness. Her stay here is of great advantage to me, for she + spurs me on.” + +In truth, every brilliant manifestation of real talent served only to +spur Mademoiselle Lind on to still greater exertions on her own account. +She was a constant attendant at the Italian Opera; and recorded her +impressions of the principal performers with the most perfect frankness. +In one letter she writes:— + + “Oh! if you could have heard Madame Persiani sing in _La Sonnambula_, + yesterday! Oh! oh! it was beautiful!” + +Of Grisi, though she admired her greatly as an actress, she spoke less +enthusiastically; and, especially, of her shake, which, she said, was +not good. Indeed, this particular grace was then but very little +cultivated in the Italian School, from an idea—entirely fallacious—that +its frequent practice was deleterious to the voice. + +But Mademoiselle Lind’s observations were not confined to the Italian +Opera, or to singing alone. She was a great admirer of Mademoiselle +Rachel; and studied her performances with peculiar interest. In one of +her letters she writes:— + + “Paris, October 24, 1841. + + “There is a remarkable dearth of good actresses here. Mademoiselle + Rachel is the only one—after her, Grisi.” + +And again:— + + “Paris, November 20, 1841. + + “Shall I tell you my thoughts? The difference between Mademoiselle + Rachel and myself is, that she can be splendid when angry, but she is + unsuited for tenderness. I am desperately ugly, and nasty too, when in + anger; but I think I do better in tender parts. Of course, I do not + compare myself with Rachel. Certainly not. She is immeasurably greater + than I. Poor me!” + +It is evident from this, that, while striving, with all her might, to +master the technical difficulties of singing under the guidance of +Signor Garcia, Mademoiselle Lind never, for a moment, forgot the +importance of the dramatic element. Her correspondence teems with +observations which show how constantly her thoughts were dwelling upon +this important point. In one more than ordinarily interesting letter, +she writes:— + + “Paris, October 24, 1841. + + “I am longing for home. I am longing for my theatre. I have never said + this before, in any of my letters. I know I am contradicting myself, + but I rejoice over it. Oh! to pour out my feelings in a beautiful + part! This is, and ever will be, my continual aim; and, until I stand + there again, I shall not know myself as I really am. Life on the stage + has in it something so fascinating, that I think, having once tasted + it, one can never feel truly happy away from it, especially when one + has given oneself wholly up to it, with life and soul, as I have done. + This has been my joy, my pride, my glory! True, it is a great thing to + be free from all the worries connected with it; but, when I return + home, I know not what people could have to reproach me with. Then the + die will be cast; and I shall not change very much for the better + after that, I suppose—and, consequently, things will be different.” + +Later on she writes:— + + “Paris, March 7, 1842. + + “Sometimes I act by myself; and it seems to me that I have gained more + feeling, more _verve_, more truth in my rendering; at least, I feel, + now, better than I used to do, what life really is. It is just + possible that I may not act as well as before; but I do not think so. + Nobody acts as I act. What do you say to such language as this? But, + you will not misunderstand me.” + +But there were moments of doubt, bordering sometimes almost upon +despondency. On one occasion she says:— + + “Paris, May 30, 1842. + + “Then Garcia pretends to believe that I shall never more act in tragic + parts![22] What do you think of that? I leave him to say what he + pleases. In the meantime, may God preserve me from being altogether + bewildered! I do not think there is any danger. I acted ‘_Norma_,’ + this morning, and it was not much worse than at Stockholm.” + +In the midst of these alternations of hope and anxiety, the studies were +interrupted, for a moment, by a sudden shock—a merciful escape from an +accident of the most frightful possible character. + +On the 8th of May, the Baroness Schwerin accompanied Mademoiselle Lind +on an excursion to Versailles. + +Herr Blumm was anxious that the party should return to Paris by a train +which would give them an opportunity of passing through some very +beautiful scenery on their way home. But, that very morning, the Préfet +de Police offered the Baroness a box at one of the theatres. In order to +render this available, the plans were changed at the last moment; and it +was not until after their return, that the little party of friends +learned that the train by which they intended to travel had been wrecked +by the bursting of the boiler, and that, of the four hundred persons who +were injured by the explosion, one hundred were either scalded to death, +or cut to pieces, in a manner too horrible for description. + +Mademoiselle Lind’s account of the occurrence shows that it affected her +very deeply indeed. But her nature was not of the weak type which is +rendered unfit for exertion by a sudden fear, however great may have +been its effect at the moment; and her subsequent letters show that +after the first burst of thankfulness was over, she was at work again as +heartily as ever. She had come to Paris to work; and she left undone +nothing which could tend to perfect her in the art to which every energy +of her life was devoted. + + + + + CHAPTER III. + WITHIN SIGHT OF THE GOAL. + + +Mdlle. Lind’s course of study, under Signor Garcia, lasted ten months, +from the 26th or 27th of August, 1841, to the end of June, 1842—by which +time she had learned all that it was possible for any master to teach +her. + +The result for which she had so ardently longed, so patiently waited, so +perseveringly laboured, was attained at last. Her voice, no longer +suffering from the effect of the cruel fatigue, and the inordinate +amount of over-exertion which had so lately endangered, not merely its +well-being, but its very existence, had now far more than recovered its +pristine vigour—it had acquired a rich depth of tone, a sympathetic +sweetness, a birdlike charm in the silvery clearness of its upper +register, which at once impressed the listener with the feeling that he +had never before heard anything in the least degree resembling it. + +No human organ is perfect. It is quite possible that other voices may +have possessed qualities which this did not; for voices of exceptional +beauty are nearly always characterised by an individuality of expression +which forms by no means the least potent of their attractions. But, the +listener never stopped to analyse the qualities of Mdlle. Lind’s voice, +the marked individuality of which set analysis at defiance. By turns, +full, sympathetic, tender, sad, or brilliant, it adapted itself so +perfectly to the artistic conception of the song it was interpreting, +that singer, voice, and song, were one. + +With such rare power at command, Mdlle. Lind was able, without effort, +to give expression to every phase of the conception which she had +originally formed by the exercise of innate genius alone. Her acting, as +we have seen, in former chapters, had grown up with her from her +infancy, and formed part of her inmost being. She had found no one in +Paris capable of teaching her anything that could improve that, though +she thought it necessary to take lessons in deportment. The rest she had +studied for herself, though she had naturally gained experience by +observation of others. With fearless modesty, she had measured her own +powers against those of Mdlle. Rachel, and dared to tell herself what +she believed to be the truth, with regard to their comparative merits. +She had acted the part of _Norma_ to herself, and calmly passed judgment +upon her own performance. That she was satisfied with it we cannot +doubt; for she had studied the difficult character of her heroine to +such good purpose, that she had reconciled all its apparent +incongruities, and elevated it into a consistent whole, dramatic and +musical, breathing poetry and romance from beginning to end, yet, as +true to nature as she was herself, and no longer fettered by the fatal +technical weakness which had so long stood between her ideal and its +perfect realisation. There was no weakness now. The Artist was complete. + + +And now arose the crucial question—should the finished Artist make her +_début_ in Paris?—or, should she return, at once, to Sweden, and +reappear, in all the glory of her newly-acquired powers, in her beloved +Stockholm? + +There were arguments to be brought forward on both sides. The problem +was no new one. It had frequently been discussed; but her own feeling on +the subject was very strong indeed. She could not reconcile herself to +Paris. From the very first, she had suspected the hollowness of its +social organisation. As early as the 10th of September, 1841, she had +written to her friend, Fröken Marie Ruckman:— + + “MY BEST FRIEND,— + + “There might be much to say about Paris, but I put it off until I am + better able to judge. This much, however, I will say at once, that, if + good is sometimes to be found, an immeasurable amount of evil is to be + found also. But, I believe it to be an excellent school for any one + with discernment enough to separate the rubbish from that which is + worth preserving—though this is no easy task. To my mind, the worst + feature of Paris is, its dreadful selfishness, its greed for money. + There is nothing to which the people will not submit, for the sake of + gain. Applause, here, is not always given to talent; but, often + enough, to vice—to any obscure person who can afford to pay for it. + Ugh! It is too dreadful to see the _claqueurs_ sitting at the theatre, + night after night, deciding the fate of those who are compelled to + appear—a terrible manifestation of original sin!” + +To Madame Lindblad, some six weeks later, she writes:— + + “Paris, October 24, 1841. + + “All idea of appearing here in public has vanished. To begin with—I + myself never relied upon it; but people said so many silly things + about ‘just one performance,’ that, at last, I began to feel as if I + were in duty bound to try. But, monstrous and unconquerable + difficulties are in the way. In any case, I want to go home again. + But, if I can arrange to sing at a concert, before leaving, I will do + so; in order that I may not return home without having at least done + something.” + +Three months later, in a letter dated February the 1st, 1842, and +addressed to Herr Expeditionschef Forsberg (who controlled the Dramatic +School attached to the R. Theatre at Stockholm at the time at which +Jenny was numbered among its pupils), we find her dwelling touchingly on +her desire to consecrate her talents to her native country. + + “I came hither,” she says, “because I felt my talent too + insignificant. I knew, indeed, that it was not really so. But, having + no one to consult but my dear Herr Berg—who was, miserable at his + inability to help me through with my incessant work—I resolved simply + to break off, and to take two years’ leave of absence. + + “I am working on, now; have made progress; and—need I say it—if they + want to hear me again, in my Sweden, with what joy will I not hasten + thither! I have only made these sacrifices, in order that I may become + worthy of the public; and, if I do not succeed, I shall, at all + events, have satisfied my artist’s conscience. + + “Therefore, Herr Expeditionschef, if I can only learn to sing, I shall + certainly return, in a year and a half; but, not if I meet with + coldness, or am regarded as altogether unnecessary. I am almost afraid + of that. I do not wish to stand in the way of any one. Rather than + that, I would settle down here to give singing-lessons; for Garcia’s + method is the best of our time, and every one, here, is striving to + follow it. But, in any case, I shall come home, in order that people + may hear what progress I have made—if I really have made any. Will + they accept me, and give me a suitable engagement? If so, I shall + remain. If not, I shall go abroad again.” + +When the time for arriving at a decision began to draw near, she wrote +to Madame Lindblad:— + + “Paris, April 3, 1842. + + “I dare not tell you how I long for home! I dare not tell you how far + from happy I feel, here! but, there is one thing in your letter that + really frightens me. You say, that, if I come back, without having + previously appeared in public, here, they will say that I was not fit + for it, however well I may sing. Ho! ho! what will happen, then? It + might, perhaps, be better for me to engage myself somewhere as + nursery-maid; for it is a very difficult thing to appear, here, in + public. On the stage it would be out of the question. It could only be + in the concert-room: and there I am at my weakest point, and shall + always remain so. What is wanted here is—‘admirers.’ Were I inclined + to receive them, all would be smooth sailing. But there I say—STOP! + + “To sing, without a name, is difficult; for, here, everything depends + upon the accessories. It matters not how little talent there may be. + My position is, indeed, a hard one! If only I belonged to a country + having more self-confidence when passing judgment on its own artists, + then, all would be well. But, the misfortune is, that they never + believe in themselves. However, I have never said that I should appear + in public, though others have.” + +A week later she wrote to her father:— + + “Paris, April 10, 1842. + + “GODE PAPPA!— + + “So many thanks for your last letter. I see, from it, that you and + Mamma are well. It gives me no slight comfort to know this; and I + should be even better satisfied, if I were also to learn that you + prosper in your country home. + + “As yet, my dear Pappa, I have not grown particularly stout; but, what + I shall be, when I grow old, I cannot tell. However, I trust the Lord + will save me from being obliged to sing on the stage, until my life’s + end; and then, I shall rest tranquil. + + “Apropos of the Opera! I wonder when I shall next be allowed to show + myself ‘on the boards,’ as the term is. I clearly see—yes, I do see, + Pappa—that I am born to stand on them. God grant that I may always + stand ‘on firm feet,’ as Gelhaar said.[23] In one respect, Pappa knows + that I do. In the other, I am in God’s hands. Think only, if, when I + come home, I find no engagement! + + “Yes, yes. ‘Comes time, comes counsel.’ Perhaps I may have to sit on + the Djurgårds Common, with a little money-box in front of me, to + gather in small contributions, and sing while the day lasts—for, says + the proverb, ‘There is no day so long that it has not its evening’— + and, after that, I go to my Father’s bosom, to awake in a better land. + And this is surely the highest aim. It does not matter how one gets + there, so that one only does get there, somehow, and, ‘he that + humbleth himself shall be exalted,’ says the Scripture.—But, be this + as it may! + + “I was obliged to act as I did; otherwise, the whole thing would have + remained at a standstill with me. Perhaps I have not yet been quite + forgotten—though I have some doubt about it: and, in that case, and if + I have also made some progress, people may perhaps find pleasure in + listening to me, when I come back again. I wish for nothing better + than this. + + “_Adieu, lille Fader._ Write, if occasion offers, to your + + “AFFECTIONATE DAUGHTER.” + +A letter addressed, on the same day, to Madame Lindblad, announces still +greater indecision with regard to the future:— + + “Paris, April 10, 1842. + + “I am really anxious to see how a life, begun like mine, will end. Oh! + what emptiness beyond description there is around me! An unwonted + amount of courage is necessary, for prolonging my stay here for + another year. But I need this, for several reasons. This journey has + altogether changed me. The foundation of the building was tolerably + safe, and needed no pulling down. But, the superstructure!—this has + crumbled away, through not having been better put together.” + +The spirit which pervades these letters is unmistakable; and clearly +shows Mdlle. Lind’s own feeling, with regard to the critical question, +on the settlement of which her artistic destiny seemed now mainly to +depend. + +But, she was not, and could not possibly be, the only, or even the best +judge, of what was best for her. From the very nature of the case, she +was placed very much at the mercy of others, who, moved by feelings of +friendship, or self-interest, as the case might be, took an active part +in the discussion; and it was mainly through their intervention that the +question was solved with the results which we propose to describe in our +next chapter. + + + + + CHAPTER IV. + THE RETURN. + + +On the 24th of May, 1842, while Mdlle. Lind was still tortured by doubts +as to the best course to follow, in this difficult crisis, the Directors +of the Royal Theatre at Stockholm sent her the offer of a definite and +official engagement—or rather re-engagement—at the Opera-House in which +her early triumphs had been achieved. It must be confessed, that the +terms proposed by the _Direktion_ were more in accordance with her +former _status_ at the Royal Theatre, than with that which was the just +due of the great artist she had now become. The engagement was to last +either one, or two years; from the 1st of July, 1842, to the same date, +in 1843, or 1844—the longest period for which an engagement was legally +possible. The salary was fixed at 1800 _Riksdaler Banco, per annum_— +equal to about £150, in English money; with the privilege of an extra +“benefit”; and “extra service-money, according to the regulations of the +Royal Theatre,” for each appearance; the necessary “silk costumes and +bridal gowns” being provided at the expense of the management. In return +for these emoluments, Mdlle. Lind was engaged to submit, in all things, +to the regulations laid down for the direction of the Royal Theatre, in +the year 1839; but she was permitted to extend her stay abroad, until +September, 1842, without diminution of salary, as a compensation for the +expenses connected with her home journey. + +To this not very tempting offer, she replied, as follows:— + + “Paris, June 6, 1842. + + “I have had the honour to receive the Royal Direction’s flattering + offer of an engagement, for one or two years, from the 1st of July, + 1842, at the Royal Theatre of Stockholm, and hasten to submit my + humble answer. + + “Although the period which I intended to devote to my studies abroad + does not terminate until next year, and, therefore, an earlier return + home will either interrupt those studies, or entail redoubled efforts + for the accomplishment of the course on which I have entered, I feel + not disinclined to accept the offer of the Royal Direction, for two + years; but, well remembering the rather too heavy service to which I + had to submit in former times, at the Royal Theatre, and from the evil + consequences of which I am still suffering, I am compelled to attach + the following conditions to my engagement, viz.:— + + “(i.) That while enjoying the salary, benefices, and other advantages + proposed by the Royal Direction, I shall not be obliged to appear in + more than fifty representations during the season. + + “(ii.) That an extra fee of 66 _Rdr._, 32 _sk._, _Banco_,[24] may be + granted to me for each representation over and above the said fifty, + during the season. + + “(iii.) That the representations be so arranged, as not to compel my + appearance more than twice during the week. + + “(iv.) That leave of absence be granted to me, from the 15th of June, + to the 1st of October, in each year. + + “I trust that the Royal Direction will appreciate the fairness of the + above-named conditions, and will consider them as pardonable + forethought with regard to my health and future, which are + particularly uncertain, and difficult to ensure, by a dramatic artist, + in Sweden.” + +On the same day, she thus confided her difficulties to Madame Lindblad:— + + “Paris, June 6, 1842. + + “I have been offered an engagement at the theatre in Stockholm, and + this has somewhat altered things. There is much to be said for, but + much also against it. It seems to me that my demands are not + exaggerated, when I propose to appear fifty times during the season, + for 1800 _Rdr. Banco_ in the form of salary, with extra money, etc.; + while, for other evenings, beyond that number, they will have to give + me, each time, 66 _Rdr._, 32 _sk._, _Banco_—the same as to Belletti. I + shall not do it for less; so, if they do not agree to this—well and + good! + + “So, it may happen that I come home in the autumn. What do you say to + that? I rather long for home; and this offer, on the part of the + Direction, will furnish a good opportunity for closing the mouths of + those who might feel inclined to say something about my incapacity for + another theatre.” + +Herr Lindblad, who was in Paris, at this time, wrote to his wife:— + + “Paris, June 1, 1842. + + “Jenny has had an offer, from the Direction of the Royal Opera, to + come home; and she seems inclined to accept it. If so, she will + return, in the autumn.” + +This seems to imply that Herr Lindblad took no unfavourable view of the +arrangement; yet, when the engagement was finally concluded, he wrote to +Madame Lindblad:— + + “Paris, July 4, 1842. + + “Jenny has engaged herself at too small a salary. This she regrets, + now, but it cannot be helped. Her love for Sweden, and the kind letter + from the Director of the Opera, have dimmed her vision.” + +And again:— + + “Paris, Friday, July 15, 1842. + + “I conducted Meyerbeer to Jenny, when she sang for him airs from + _Roberto_, _Norma_, and several of my songs. He thought much of her + voice, and wishes to take her to the Grand Opera-House, in order to + hear how it would sound on the stage there; for he believes that its + carrying power would grow in the large room.” + +And again:— + + “Paris, July 18, 1842. + + “So it is, however, that, had Meyerbeer arrived here before Jenny + accepted the engagement at Stockholm, she would probably not—unless + tempted by home-sickness—have returned so soon to Sweden; for + Meyerbeer was not against engaging her for Paris or Berlin. Not a soul + has here done the least towards making her known. She has been living + as in a convent. + + “Still, she is not sorry to return home; for, the greatest stage + reputations are here won only through sacrificing honour and + reputation. While the world is resounding with their praise, every + _salon_ is closed to them; and this, even in easy-going Paris. Such + homage as Jenny met with in Sweden, no foreign artist ever received. + This, she feels; and it is for this vivifying atmosphere that she is + longing.” + +As may well be supposed, Meyerbeer’s influence was no unimportant factor +in the arrangements which concerned the future. He had come to Paris on +business connected with the production of _Le Prophète_; had there heard +of Mdlle. Lind—probably, from Herr Lindblad; and—as we gather from that +gentleman’s letter of the 15th of July—had already heard her sing, in +private. But he seems to have entertained doubts as to whether her voice +was powerful enough to fill the _salle_ of the Grand Opera; and, in +order to satisfy himself on this point, he wished to hear her sing on +the stage of the theatre itself. Whether or not, Signor Garcia felt any +doubts upon the subject, we do not know. On the 13th of June, Herr +Lindblad had written:— + + “On Saturday last, I met Garcia, and spoke to him about Jenny. He has + found out that she has much _esprit_, and feeling; but considers her + voice still somewhat _fatiguée_.” + +But, whatever Signor Garcia may have felt, it is quite certain that +Meyerbeer was determined to carry his point; and, that he made the +necessary arrangements with M. Leon Pillet, then the Director of the +Grand Opera, for the gratification of his wish; for, on the 22nd of +July, he wrote (in German) to Herr Lindblad:— + + “HONOURED SIR,— + + “I was unable to answer your kind letter, yesterday, as I found it + impossible to speak to the Director of the Opera. But I have since + seen him, and have arranged that, to-morrow, Saturday, at two o’clock + in the afternoon, precisely, a well-tuned pianoforte, and an + accompanist, shall be in readiness, on the stage of the Opera, to + accompany Mdlle. Lind in her songs. + + “I have told the Director, that Mdlle. Lind wishes to bring with her + six or eight persons with whom she is acquainted; and orders have been + given to the porter to admit them. The entrance, however, will not be + from the Rue Lepelletier, as in the evening; but, in the Rue + Grangebatelière, No. 3, through the great gateway, on the left hand of + the court. + + “Begging you, honoured sir, to make my compliments to Mdlle. Lind, and + in the hope of seeing you again to-morrow, at the Opera, at two + o’clock, + + “Yours most sincerely, + “MEYERBEER.” + +Of the proceedings which took place at this probationary meeting, no +detailed account has been preserved. M. Castil-Blaze tells us, that the +pieces sung were, the three grand scenes from _Der Freischütz_, _Robert +le Diable_, and _Norma_; but, as we shall presently see, his account of +the occurrence is so glaringly incorrect, in other respects, that it is +not safe to accept any part of it. Herr Lindblad, however, has described +his impressions; briefly enough, it is true, but, in language which may +be accepted as thoroughly trustworthy. His account of the effect +produced is thus recorded:— + + “Paris, July 25, 1842. + + “Nothing worth mentioning happened, in the course of last week, except + that Jenny appeared at the Grand Opera, here; but, without the lights, + and with no other listeners than Meyerbeer, the Hiertas, Herr Blumm, + Branting, the Director of the Opera, and myself. It was in order to + hear how her voice would tell, in the immense _salle_. Jenny was + unusually nervous; and, you know, she never does herself justice until + she is in full action on the stage. But, notwithstanding this, she + sang well; though it seemed pale in comparison with what she can do. + Meyerbeer said the prettiest things: ‘_Une voix chaste et pure, pleine + de grâce et de virginalité_,’ etc., etc. Yesterday, I breakfasted with + him; and, in the presence of Berlioz, and some other Frenchmen, he + spoke of her with an enthusiasm so great, that I almost felt inclined + to question its sincerity—for, Jenny had not sung nearly so well as + she is capable of doing. + + “In the meantime, she is coming home, for which she longs with her + whole heart. May the Swedes receive her well, now, and not soon get + tired of her! Otherwise, we shall take her to Berlin, and get her an + engagement there, in accordance with Meyerbeer’s wish. He maintains + that she ought to appear there.” + +This proves, clearly enough, that after hearing the effect of Mdlle. +Lind’s voice, in the _salle_ of the Grand Opera, Meyerbeer was of +opinion that Berlin would offer a better field for the exercise of her +talents than Paris; and subsequent events proved that his judgment was +perfectly correct. Neither the style, nor the tastes of the singer, +would have found a congenial home on the stage of the Grand Opera. There +was, in all probability, no difference of opinion between any of the +parties concerned, on this point; and, for the moment, this probationary +performance passed off, without any practical result. But, in after +years, the circumstance was brought before the public, in a distorted +form which entirely changed its import, by giving a glaringly false +account of the circumstances under which the trial took place. + +It was said, that “Mdlle. Lind had vowed a profound artistic dislike to +France, in remembrance of the check which she had there experienced, and +for which she retained a lively resentment;” that “she constantly +refused the engagements offered to her from Paris, because she had been +heard there, without success, at the beginning of her career, by the +Direction of the Opera;” that she had even “made a _début_ at this +theatre;” that “this _début_ had not been a happy one;” and that it was +this “that provoked her resentment.” + +These false reports were publicly contradicted in November, 1887, by M. +Arthur Pougin, who, in an article communicated to ‘_Le Ménestrel_,’ +related the circumstances, precisely as they are here recorded. +Moreover, the letters of Meyerbeer and Lindblad prove the statements +complained of to have been without a shadow of foundation. Mademoiselle +Lind was not in Paris in 1840. Never having sung before a Parisian +audience, she could have had no possible cause for resentment against +it; and, at no period of her life did she ever entertain so unworthy a +feeling. Indeed, when the trial performance took place, in 1842, she was +not open to an engagement, either in Paris, or elsewhere; for the +contract with the “Direction” of the Royal Theatre at Stockholm had +already been signed and ratified. The die was cast. + + “Paris, July 25, 1842. + + “Jenny is now returning home,” wrote Herr Lindblad, “and longing for + it, with her whole heart. She will accompany the Hiertas. There is a + question of returning by way of England, and staying there until the + 11th of August, when the steamer leaves for Stockholm. If this is + possible, we might all be back by the 14th of August, or the 15th, at + the latest.” + +And it was possible. The journey to Paris, with its hopes and fears, its +long hours of diligent study, its cruel alternations of confidence and +despondency, dominated by a firm and righteous determination to achieve +success in spite of every obstacle, at the cost of every sacrifice of +personal ease and comfort that the nature of the case might demand—the +eventful journey to Paris, so carefully planned, and so bravely brought +to its conclusion, had accomplished all, and more, far more than ever +was expected from it. And the second phase of the great Art-life was at +an end. + + + + + BOOK III. + ACHIEVEMENT. + + + + + CHAPTER I. + HOME: AND AFTER? + + +“Land of my birth! Oh, that I could one day show how dear thou art to +me!” That had been the deep desire of Jenny Lind, as she toiled in +Paris. And, indeed, it had seemed as if the Fates were set on fulfilling +her desire. She was, after all, to return to her familiar boards—to put +herself under the old yoke. That great Italian Opera, with its famous +heroines of song, was to remain a vision of what was doing in the big +world outside. She was not to enter, as yet, on that magnificent scene. +Enough for her to carry out her bond with that theatre which had been +her nursery and her home, in her beloved Stockholm, at the humble salary +of 1800 r. d. banco, _i.e._ £150 a year. Very happily, so far as we can +see, she set to work; though inwardly conscious of the immense increase +of knowledge and power which had become hers since she had begun again +with Garcia “at the beginning of the beginning,” and had learnt what +“Art” meant. She arrived in August, 1842, and rented rooms for herself +and Annette, her maid, on the upper floor of the same Bonde Palace, +where the Lindblads still lived. With them she had the delight of +feeling at home, and all the comfort of domestic affection; but, in the +following year, she found it well to establish herself in an independent +position, and she took rooms in another house, whither she invited her +old friend, Louise Johansson, to come, and be her companion. + +On October 10th she opened, at the theatre, with a performance of +_Norma_—the very opera in which she had closed her appearances on June +19th, 1841. It must have been a direct challenge to the critical world +of Stockholm, to recognise the change that had intervened between the +two performances. What that change was, we learn from an estimate which +has been kindly supplied us by a most competent and judicious critic, +himself a musician, who sang with her often, both before and after her +visit to Paris. We give his own words:— + + “When, during the years 1838, 1839, and 1840, Jenny Lind enraptured + her audience, at Stockholm, by her interpretation of the parts of + ‘Agathe,’ ‘Paulina,’ ‘Alice,’ ‘Norma,’ or ‘Lucia,’ she succeeded in + doing so solely through her innate capacity for investing her + performances, both musically and dramatically, with truthfulness, + warmth, and poetry. + + “The voice, and its technical development, were not, however, in + sufficiently harmonious relation with her intentions. + + “In proof of this, it was noticed that the Artist was not always able + to control sustained notes in the upper register—such, for instance, + as the A flat, above the stave, in Agathe’s cavatina, ‘_Und ob die + Wolke_’—without perceptible difficulty; and, that she frequently found + it necessary to simplify the _fioritura_ and _cadenze_, which abound + in florid parts like those of ‘Norma’ and ‘Lucia.’ + + “Nay!—there were not wanting some, who, though they had heard her in + parts no more trying than that of Emilia, in Weigl’s _Swiss Family_—a + _rôle_, which, in many respects, she rendered delightfully—went so far + as to doubt the possibility of training the veiled and weak-toned + voice in a wider sense. + + “Yet, in spite of this, Jenny Lind, when resuming her sphere of action + at the Stockholm Theatre, proved to have not only acquired a soprano + voice of great sonority and compass, capable of adapting itself with + ease to every shade of expression, but to have gained, also, a + technical command over it, great enough to be regarded as unique in + the history of the musical world. Her _messa di voce_[25] stood alone— + unrivalled by any other singer. + + “In like manner, in her shake, her scales, her _legato_ and _staccato_ + passages, she evoked astonishment and admiration no less from + competent judges than from the general public: and the more so since + it was evident that, in the exercise of her wise discrimination, the + songstress made use of these ornaments, only in so far as they were in + perfect harmony with the inner meaning of the music. + + “The incredibly rapid development of Jenny Lind’s voice and + _technique_ caused many people to question the value of the + instruction she had originally received. Such doubts must, however, be + dismissed as unjustifiable. The true reason why Jenny Lind’s singing, + before she went abroad, could not be said to flow in the track which + leads to perfection, is undoubtedly to be found in the fact that she + was a so-called _Theaterelev_—a pupil educated at the expense of the + Directors of the Theatre itself—and, as such, was unable to escape + from the necessity of appearing in public before her preparatory + education was completed—a proceeding no less disastrous to the pupil + than contrary to the good sense of the teacher.” + +Such, then, was the transformation that had come over her rendering of +_Norma_. No wonder that Stockholm was wild with enthusiasm. + +She sang in seven performances of _Norma_, and in six of _Lucia_, +besides giving some scenes from Rossini’s _Semiramide_, and in January, +1843, repeated her favourite “Alice” three or four times. + +She took up several new characters—“Amazili,” in Spontini’s _Ferdinand +Cortez_, the second act of which was given eight times during the +spring; “Valentine,” in the _Huguenots_; “Minette,” in _La Gazza Ladra_; +“La Contessa,” in Mozart’s _Nozze di Figaro_; above all, “Amina,” in the +_Sonnambula_—one of her representations which was to become so famous in +after years, and which she sang for the first time on March 1st, 1843. +Altogether, before the nine months of the year’s engagement were out, +she had made, between October 10th, 1842, and June 21st, 1843, one +hundred and six appearances in thirteen different parts. + +But, besides her normal work, those nine months were chiefly memorable +for two main incidents, one, personal and domestic; the other, national +and dramatic. + +The personal event formed the last crisis in her home-relations. These +relations were still strained; for we must remember that she has never +gone back on that first decision to leave her parents’ home, which +landed her in the Lindblads’ household. She is still living apart from +them; and this is all the more marked, now that she is independent of +the Lindblads, and living in her own hired rooms, with the sole +companionship of the faithful Louise. A woman, by Swedish law, at that +time, was bound to be under guardianship until she married. Yet it must +have been as difficult as ever for her to remain under the guardianship +of parents, who cared, indeed, for her, and valued her highly, but who, +yet, could not possibly enter into her motives and aims, which were +beyond the range both of the easy-going conscience of her father, and of +the embittered temperament of her mother. We have only to recall her +deep and peculiar sense of the obligation she was under, to devote her +art and its rewards to the service of God and man, to see how tough a +difficulty this desire would prove to Herr Lind, who had never taken +life very seriously, and to Fru Lind, who had fought her own way along, +with sturdy resolution, under the ugly burden of poverty, and who had +seen no good cause to be over-tender towards a world which had dealt +hardly enough with her. + +In view, then, of this radical difficulty, Jenny Lind took a step, +which, with characteristic generosity, put an end to the long and +tangled story. Out of her earnings, scanty though they were, she managed +to secure a little home in the country, in which she established her +father and mother. And, then, she won their consent to transfer a +guardianship, which they could not well exercise at a distance, to an +official guardian, duly appointed by law, to whom they would hand over +all parental responsibilities. This they did; and the transference was a +marked moment in her life. Not only did she thereby put a total end to +all the domestic troubles which had so darkened her young days; not only +did she set free her natural affection for her mother, by releasing it +from all the aggravation of jarring wills; but also she did something +towards securing for herself what she, always, most sorely needed— +needed, indeed, with all the innermost necessities of her being—a strong +and steady personal influence at the back of her life, to calm her +agitations, to control her uncertainties, to abide constant throughout +her reactions, to correct her self-mistrust, to dissipate her +suspicions, to fix her emotions, to anchor her conscience. She had all +the fervour and the lapses, the starts and the recoils, of a dramatic +genius; and, firm and high as was her moral ideal, its very force +brought it into confused collision with the bewilderment of +circumstances, and it was as liable to perplex and distress her, as to +cheer and impel. Some one ought to be near at hand from whom she could +receive the profound assurance that “all was well”—that her belief in +goodness had not played her false. This is what her home had sadly +omitted to give her: and for this loss nothing could now compensate. But +it was, at least, a profound relief, under such a strain, to have +obtained a guardian whose presence abode with her, from then to his +death in 1880, as a permanent pledge of all that was wise, and kindly, +and excellent, and of good report. Herr Henric M. Munthe, Judge of the +Court of Second Instance, the guardian chosen, was a man of high +character and distinguished position; she could confide in his judgment +with absolute confidence, while she could also rely on his appreciation +of her art, as he was himself a cultivated musician, and took his part +in the best amateur quartette in Stockholm. His portrait suggests a +benignant and benevolent “Thackeray”—a face full of fatherly interest +and mild good humour, yet with the discreet wisdom of one who knows the +Law. And, indeed, with the shrewdness of a councillor, he combined true +sympathy with all that was most deeply implanted in her heart. She wrote +to him constantly and freely; and she found in him one who could +understand her, even in those respects in which a legal trustee is most +apt to fail. For it was he who directed and managed for her, so long as +his guardianship lasted, those abundant charities which she showered +upon her native Stockholm. About these she could pour out her mind to +him, sure of intimate comprehension. And his open recognition of her +ideas in all this is evidenced by the fact that he stored up her letters +to him, and left them at his death inscribed with this description—“The +mirror of a noble soul”; though, according to her own words to his son, +these letters were almost entirely occupied with the distribution of her +charitable gifts. She declares this, in a letter written, in June, 1880, +to Carl H. Munthe, the son of the Judge, after she had learned from him +of the existence of these letters, on the father’s death in April, 1880. +Her letter throws so much light on her character that the main portion +of it is printed here. + +This letter to Carl Munthe has an interest, also, that belongs to the +present memoir, for it will be noticed that she here mentions her +intention of writing an autobiography; and, above all, of recording her +artistic experience. Though this purpose was utterly abandoned (or, +rather, was never put in action), yet her words lend a sanction to the +effort made in this volume to give some record of her career as an +artist. In her last years, she was prone to justify her abandonment of +the autobiography by indignant remonstrances at the hopeless failure of +the public to understand Carlyle’s ‘Reminiscences.’ Her experience of +the cruel stupidity with which a mighty character like his could be +maltreated and misinterpreted, made her put the thought utterly away. +“If they could so treat him, who was so great, what respect would they +pay me?” she said. “No! let the waves of oblivion pass over my poor +little life!” + +But we must go back to our letter: here it is:— + + _Extract of a Letter from Fru Jenny Lind-Goldschmidt to Hofrättsrådet + Carl Munthe._ + + “1 Moreton Gardens, June 15th, 1880. + + “The letters from me, left in your charge, my dear brothers and my + sister Emma, can contain only dispositions for distribution of + pensions and purses to different people. What good would there be in + exhibiting these letters to the curiosity of the public long after + that the writer thereof is decayed and forgotten? To me, the most + acceptable course would be the burning of those letters after you all + are gone. There is nothing I have shunned more, during my life, than + praise for the assistance I have been fortunate enough, through the + grace of God, to render to my fellow-men as far as lay in me, and it + can never be a merit to give of that which has been given to us. These + are my views—and, if I am not much mistaken about you, brother Carl, + you will say I am right. + + “Moreover, I intend to write an autobiography. My life—especially as + an artist—has furnished material for a biography in such abundance, + that I almost look upon it as a duty to produce something of the kind, + before leaving a world where I had been called upon to take so active + a part. That in such a biography, written by myself, my beloved + guardian should take his well-deserved place, is only natural; that + the help he gave me with the distribution of my little bounties in my + fatherland, was of the greatest importance for those who received + them, is a fact nobody can dispute, and, consequently, his part in + this page of my life must be clear and unmistakable. Alas! in my + letters to him, he does not by any means occupy the place to which he + is entitled, consequently they would be only interpreted to my + advantage; and still, had he remonstrated against my urgent + commissions—which he was much too noble and much too discreet ever to + do—I should most probably have listened to his objections.” + +Such was the kind and fatherly guardianship which she won for herself, +under a legal sanction obtained from His Majesty’s Lower Town Court on +the 30th of January, 1843, under the chairmanship of the Sous-Préfet, +Chamberlain, and Knight of the Order of the Royal North Star, M. +Kuylenstjierna, when the following request was presented:— + + “Having decided to leave Stockholm for good, and consequently being + unable to bestow due attention to the guardianship of my dear + daughter, the Court-singer, Jenny Lind, I hereby beg that I may be + relieved from this duty, and that Herr H. M. Munthe, Judge of the High + Court, may be appointed in my place to the guardianship.” + +This is signed by N. J. Lind; and, after that Herr Munthe has formally +signified his consent, the Royal Court agrees to the request, and Judge +H. M. Munthe “is herewith appointed guardian of the Court-singer, Jenny +Lind, in accordance with regulations provided by the law.” + +So happily closes a long and chequered chapter of domestic history. The +parents contentedly enjoy the fruits of their daughter’s generosity. +Their discomforts and their anxieties are over. They seem to have been +very fond of one another; and henceforward the days began of quiet and +kindly peace in which the natural affections found free way. + +The second great event of that spring was the National Jubilee, to +celebrate the twenty-fifth year of the reign of King Carl Johan. The +Royal Family of the Bernadottes, in spite of their abrupt introduction +into the country, have succeeded in attracting about them the national +associations; and the Jubilee was to be celebrated by appeals to +everything that was native, and popular, and Swedish. The Royal Theatre +set itself to the task by the production of a “Divertissement +National,”—a medley of national scenes, with words and dances by +Böttiger, Tegner’s son-in-law, and himself a poet; and with music by +Berwald, the conductor at the Theatre Royal. In this, Jenny Lind sang, +in the character of a peasant girl from Wermland. This piece ran for +twenty-seven nights, all through February, and March, into April; and it +was followed, in May, by another _Pièce d’ Occasion_, of the same type, +with national melodies and dances, called _A May Day in Wärend_—full of +Swedish customs, and melodies, and dresses; in which she sang the part +of “Märtha,” the heroine, riding in, at one part, on horseback on to the +stage, and singing as she rode. This ran for fifteen nights before June +was over. She was capitally supported by the barytone, Belletti, in the +character of an itinerant Italian. We can imagine how her Swedish blood +would tingle, as she threw herself, with her whole heart, into the +delight of rendering the native peasant life which was so dear to her, +and which she so instinctively interpreted. She would pour her soul out +in melodies which touched the very fibres of her being, as they spoke to +her of the sounds and sights which make Sweden what it is to Swedish +hearts. She must have felt that the opportunity was indeed come to put +out all the new powers, which she had gained abroad, to prove to her own +people how dear they were to her. + +We find that, from this time on, the Court began to take delight in +showing her both favour and friendship; and especially kind to her was +the Queen, Desideria, wife of Bernadotte. We are allowed to use the +interesting notes from the diary of a lady-in-waiting on Queen +Desideria, which belong to this and the following years. This lady, +Fröken Marie von Stedingk, had, in quite early days, predicted a great +future for Jenny Lind, when she heard of her wonderful dramatic gifts, +as a child of eleven or twelve. And, now, after the return from Paris, +it was “her greatest treat” to witness the fulfilment of her prophecy, +and to hear “Our nightingale, the charming Jenny Lind,” both in the +_Divertissement National_, and in her great parts, “_Norma_,” “_La +Sonnambula_,” etc. She had, also, “often the advantage of hearing her, +through the winter, in private houses, where one and all treated her +with distinction. Her behaviour and her reputation are faultless; her +manners pleasant and modest. Without being pretty, she has an expression +of purity and genius, which, combined with her youth and her charming +figure, is exceedingly prepossessing.” We shall hear more of this diary +in the years 1844 and 1845. + +So the first year of the home engagement ended—prosperous, happy, +secure. But, after all, was it to be possible that this great gift of +hers should be left to be the private possession and prize of her +Swedish home? Could it be so hid? Was no rumour to creep about of this +strange singing ’mid the northern seas? Was the “Nightingale” caught, +and caged for ever? + +It could not be; and we have, now, to follow her first flights outside +the home-limits, and to watch her, as she discovers that her voice has +that in it which can overleap all the barriers set up between people and +people, and can speak to the souls of those whose tongue is unknown to +her, and whose eyes have never seen the woods and waters of Sweden. +There was a little experiment first, in Finland, in the summer of 1843, +which met with overwhelming response. A graceful and pathetic record of +the visit is given us in the verses of the aged poet of Finland, +Topelius, written for a festival in 1888, on the news of Jenny Lind’s +death. The old poet is carried back to recall the days when he first +heard her sing so long ago; and we venture to give, in a free +translation, a few of the opening verses, which describe, with delicate +accuracy, the effect she then made on all—the effect of one, who, using +all the subtlest resources given her by skill and training, still spoke +straight home, from soul to soul, with the natural direct ease with +which a bird sings its heart out, in sheer simplicity and joy:— + + “I saw thee once, so young and fair, + In thy sweet spring-tide, long ago; + A myrtle wreath was in thy hair, + And, at thy breast, a rose did blow. + + · · · · · + + “Poor was thy purse, yet gold thy gift; + All music’s golden boons were thine: + And yet, through all the wealth of Art, + It was thy _soul_ which sang to mine! + + “Yea! sang, as no one else has sung, + So subtly skilled, so simply good! + So brilliant! yet as pure, and true + As birds that warble in the wood!” + +So it went well in Finland. + +But yet another step outward was to be made that summer—a step into a +country, near enough to be familiar, yet remote enough to be almost +foreign. Once before, she had just looked in at Copenhagen, in the +middle of her provincial tour, in 1840; and, now, she visited it again. +It was in connection, again, with a provincial tour which she made; and +of which we have some happy records in the life of the musician, Jakob +Axel Josephson. + +This name is so closely linked with these years of Jenny Lind’s life, +that we must pause upon it before going on with our story. Josephson was +a Swedish composer—born in 1818, and died in 1880—whose songs have +become widely famous in Sweden. The event of his life was a tour through +Germany and Italy, for the study of Art; it was this which brought him +under the full sway of classical culture in music; and it was with this +tour, as we shall see, that Jenny Lind was so personally and deeply +concerned. He returned from it in 1847, and was appointed Musical +Director of Upsala University in 1849. He devoted himself with +indefatigable perseverance to producing the great works of the great +masters, especially the oratorios of Handel, Haydn, and Mendelssohn. +Through these efforts, as well as through his lectures on the ‘History +of Music,’ given at Upsala, he has done much to kindle and to purify, by +the power of music, the minds of the present generation in Sweden. + +Now, in 1843, Josephson was just at the critical point in his musical +education; he was longing to get abroad; he had no sufficient funds. +Here was a situation which Jenny Lind would thoroughly understand; for +it had been her own. We shall soon see how she dealt with it. They met, +in the August of this year, at this town, Linköping, whither Josephson +had gone, on the occasion of an annual concert, to be given under the +direction of Concert-Master Randel, in aid of the fund for the widows +and orphans. It was a most pleasant surprise, as he tells us in his +Diary,[26] to meet with a number of old acquaintances and friends, and +among others Jenny Lind and Günther, who had come to give a concert of +their own, and joined in this preliminary entertainment. Crowds were +present from all parts of the country, partly owing to the presence of +some of the royalties; and the heat and the crush in the church, where +the concert was given, were intolerable, and he did not enjoy it so much +as he expected—“even Jenny Lind was less successful than usual.” This +was on the 18th August; but, at her own concert, in the evening of the +following day, she was in excellent voice, and he was enraptured; “she +sang in a manner unsurpassed. What brilliancy of delivery, side by side +with that grandeur which is so characteristic of her! What energy and +pathos, even in the very _fioriture_! What classical finish in her +cadenzas!” In the evening she was serenaded. And on the following day, +at the concert given by her and Herr Günther, he heard her sing, in +costume, a scena from the _Freischütz_. “She is incomparable!” is his +verdict. “The beautiful gentle calm during the first part of the scene; +her fine attitudes, full of feeling, when listening for the horns; her +rapture and glowing prayer at the supposed victory of her beloved—all +this is so glorious, so true, so enchanting, that in reality, nothing +can be said, while the full heart feels all the more from the lack of +words.” She sang one of Josephson’s own songs, at this concert, “Believe +not in Joy!” After this musical feast at Linköping, the friends +separated. Josephson and Günther went on a tour of their own, giving +musical soirées, while Jenny Lind took the opportunity of a run across +to Copenhagen. Before the three meet again, we must see what happened to +her there. She had intended only to make a visit; but there was in +Copenhagen, an eager and enthusiastic friend who was not to be denied. +This was Mr. A. A. Bournonville, of whom we have already spoken as being +delighted with Jenny Lind’s operatic singing as far back as 1839, when +he was indignant at the pittance at which she was rendering such +magnificent service to the Royal Theatre. He was eminent, both at +Copenhagen and at Stockholm, as a composer, and master of ballets; he +was made knight of the Danebrog in Denmark, and of the Wasa in Sweden; +he was greatly respected and beloved, and it was at his house that Jenny +Lind usually stayed, on her visits to Copenhagen. He urgently pleaded +that she should give them “her incomparable Alice” in _Roberto_; and +suggested that she should sing her part in Swedish, while the rest sang +in Danish, as the languages were so nearly akin. + + “All the theatre showed the greatest goodwill,” he writes in his + memoir of his theatrical life; “but the one obstacle was the fear of + Jenny Lind herself; she dreaded a foreign stage. And when she saw Fru + Heiberg act in the _Son of the Desert_ she felt such enthusiasm for + her, and, at the same time, such depression for herself, that she + begged me, with tears of anguish, to spare her the pain of exhibiting + her own insignificant person and talent, on a stage which had, at its + disposal, the genius and the beauty of Fru Heiberg. In addition to + this, my counter-arguments excited her to such a degree that she began + to reproach me for having laid a trap for her. This both frightened + and wounded me; and I promised to cancel all. But now the ‘woman’ came + to the front; for as I began to doubt, she waxed firm.” + +An admirable episode, as amusing as it is natural! So long as it is only +her _own_ doubt, it is only due to nervousness, however real its +anguish; but if another doubt her powers, it constitutes an attack, a +challenge; and “the artist,” as well as “the woman,” is up in arms to +repel it. Bournonville seems to have seen how to reap the advantage of +this mode of argument with her; he must have deepened his doubts to the +point which secured complete conviction in her. For, certainly, he +obtained her consent. She sang; and the success was tremendous, was +overpowering. “Jenny Lind gained in Denmark a second Fatherland,” writes +Bournonville. And, after deploring the slackness which failed to secure +her services for the Danish Opera, he speaks, significantly enough, of +the impression which the event made on her—of the discovery which she +made for herself. “The ice was broken. Jenny Lind discovered that she +could get her living out of Sweden; and also she learned that the +Artist, in reality, should not settle down on the native-soil, but, like +the bird of passage, should go there only in search of rest.” The words +are those of the theatrical master, who has made the drama his world. +They are singularly unlike what she would have used, at any time. But +they may describe, in his language, an effect which did take place +within her secret self. She must have experienced a sense that the doors +were being flung open, and that she might pass out through them, if she +would. There was a world, she now knew for certain, out and away beyond +the range of home, where she would find that her powers would tell, her +gifts be welcomed, her genius be met with the warmth of sympathy. This +must have, indeed, been something like a revelation, to one who, as we +have just seen in the scene with Bournonville, was terribly susceptible +to self-mistrust. There can be no doubt that Copenhagen marked an +eventful hour in her destiny. + +She only sang twice in the theatre, on September 10th and 13th: and in +one concert, in the large hall of the Hôtel d’Angleterre, on September +16th. The opera, on each occasion, was _Roberto_. The following words +from a History of Danish Dramatic Art, by Th. Overskou, form an +admirable comment:— + + “It was said about Jenny Lind, that in her everything is combined to + make the perfect dramatic singer; a clear, full, sonorous voice of + large compass; an easy and charming method of singing, which she never + overburdens with inappropriate ornament; a style, in the highest + degree expressive and enchanting: and an extraordinary dramatic + talent. Added to this, there lies diffused throughout the whole + personality of this admirable artist, a peculiar charm, a naturalism + rare on the stage, which makes an immediate appeal to the goodwill of + the audience. And, after all, this eulogy, however detailed and true, + can only give but an imperfect account of the gifts by which, without + dazzling through beauty, she fascinates all by her appearance, her + singing, and her speech; for her power derives its origin and its life + from a loveliness altogether characteristic and individual, such as it + is impossible to describe, and which banishes all disturbing + influences, and collects all her rare and precious advantages, so as + to create an irresistible impression of grace and purity of soul.” + +Nor was it only the possibility of a wider public, which opened upon her +at Copenhagen. She also found that here, as at Stockholm, she won, in a +peculiar manner, the admiration and the friendship of eminent men, such +as the artists Jensen and Melbye, the poet Œhlenschläger, and, above +all, of Hans Andersen, who was absolutely fascinated, and who for a long +time after, paid her a devotion, which had in it all that delightful +mingling of simplicity and childishness, which was so characteristic of +him. In his ‘Story of my Life,’ he tells in beautiful words how he was +called in by Bournonville, to take part in the work of persuading her to +sing:— + + “Except in Sweden,” she said, “I have never appeared in public. In my + own country all are so kind and gentle towards me; and if I were to + appear in Copenhagen, and be hissed! I cannot risk it!” “When she + appeared in _Alice_,” he writes, “it was like a new revelation in the + domain of Art. The fresh young voice went direct to the hearts of all. + Here was truth and nature. Everything had clearness and meaning. In + her concerts, Jenny Lind sang her Swedish songs. There was a peculiar, + and seductive charm about them: all recollection of the concert-room + vanished: the popular melodies exerted their spell, sung as they were + by a pure voice with the immortal accent of genius. All Copenhagen was + in raptures. Jenny Lind was the first artist to whom the students + offered a serenade: the torches flashed round the hospitable villa, + where the song was sung. She expressed her thanks by a few more of the + Swedish songs, and I then saw her hurry into the darkest corner, and + weep out her emotion. ‘Yes, yes,’ she said, ‘I will exert myself; I + will strive; I shall be more efficient than I am now, when I come to + Copenhagen again!’” + +This is the remarkable note of her character—so natural, yet so rare— +that every triumph, instead of satisfying her with her skill, spurs her +to further efforts to be more worthy of its joy. Hans Andersen goes on:— + + “On the stage, she was the great artist, towering above all around + her; at home, in her chamber, she was a gentle young girl, with the + simple touch and piety of a child.... The spectator laughs and weeps, + as she acts: the sight does him good: he feels a better man for it: he + feels that there is something divine in Art. One feels, at her + appearance on the stage, that the holy draught is poured from a pure + vessel.” + +We will close this visit to Copenhagen with the graceful and touching +words in which Mr. Bournonville has clothed an incident which seemed to +him to embody the secret of Jenny Lind’s significance at that time. In +translating the words from their congenial French, we must, we fear, +strip them of half their charm: but here they are:— + + “Again and again have the delights of Nature, the glory of Art, the + enthusiasm for the true and the beautiful, inspired in me some + attempts at verse. How, then, is it that, to-day, the sweet singing of + Jenny Lind has left my lyre mute? How is it that I fail to find even + an echo within me which might pass on into the distance the sound of + that music which laid open to my soul a world as yet unknown? Alas! To + paint in words the tones of a voice steeped in all the uttermost + tenderness of the human heart, is as vain as to seek shadows in the + darkness! Moreover, the sound of my voice would be lost in the + thunders of a people’s praise. The little flower that alone I could + offer to the artist, in the midst of her triumphs, would be crushed + under the feet of the crowds that press round her. No! Rather let me + treasure up the memory of her gifts, and of her story within my home, + and let me leave, as a legacy to those that come after, one trait of + her life, which will serve to bring her honour in the day when the + loud applause will have died away, and when the poets will be singing + the praises of other, and newer names. + + “I had a friend who enjoyed all the privileges of happy comfort, of + public esteem, of cultivated taste, of the affection of his family, of + the love of his fair, young wife. A cruel sickness brought him down to + the very edge of the grave; but by God’s mercy, he was saved. He was + lying, still weak and faint, in his bed, when the thrill of excitement + which Jenny Lind had kindled in Copenhagen, reached even to his + sick-room; and bitter were the regrets of the young wife, at the sick + man’s loss of that which would have been to him such a delight. Jenny + heard of her desire, and offered, at once, to sing to the invalid: and + so, in the very heart of her triumphs, when the Court and the Town + were anxiously craving to know whether they could yet keep her one day + more, she found time to charm, with her heavenly voice, the hearts of + the two young people. It was on a Sunday, the 16th of September, 1843, + at the hour when all the churches were filled with the praises of God, + that Jenny, without any strangers to observe her, without any public + notice, did this act of charity; and the tears of gratitude which + flowed from the eyes of Mozart and Mathilde Waage Petersen were the + waters in which they christened her with the name of ‘Angel.’ The + emotion and the pleasure of the visit served to help the recovery of + my friend. + + “May God ever bless Jenny Lind! + + “May she receive the reward of her charity, if, one day, she be wed! + + “And if God grant her children, may it be given them to know of this, + their mother’s act.” + +This kindness of hers was not forgotten, we shall find, when she +returned to Copenhagen about two years later; for on the back of the +picture then presented to her—a picture of white roses by Jensen—appear +the names of this happy little couple, Mozart and Mathilde. + +So ended the first flight outside the house, the first brief act of +achievement beyond her native stage. She crossed back to Sweden, to +continue her series of concerts; and on reaching Westerwik, about the +25th of September, by the steamer “Scandia,” she found herself once +again in company with Günther and Josephson, who had lingered on in the +town, after a successful musical soirée. The friends joined together at +the hotel in the evening. “I greatly rejoiced,” writes Josephson, “to +meet her again after the brilliant triumphs she has achieved at +Copenhagen.” + + “Her genial modesty had lost nothing through her success. Her nature + wins more and more harmony; and in consequence there is more + equanimity in her disposition and in her friendliness, than before she + went abroad.” + +Josephson was just parting with Günther, at the close of their tour; so, +while Günther went straight home to Stockholm, Josephson decided to tack +himself on to Jenny Lind and her companion, now on their way to give a +concert at Norrköping, where he might be able to help. So, on the 28th, +he started after her in a light cart, caught up her carriage at Vida, +and, after that, took his seat alternately on his own trap or on the box +of her carriage, while she read aloud to him some of Hans Andersen’s +poems from a book presented to her by Hans himself. At the country inn +they improvised a rough dinner, which they enriched with the music of an +old barrel-organ, by chance discovered on the premises. They arrived at +Norrköping that night; and spent the next day in arrangements and +rehearsals, while, in the evening, Jenny was serenaded by singers from +Upsala. + +On the 30th of September she gave her concert, singing airs from +_Figaro_, _Norma_, _Roberto_, and _Niobe_. At supper that evening at +General Cronhjelm’s she was again serenaded, and next morning was off to +Stockholm. + +She returned, for another year’s work, at her old salary; in the course +of which, between October 4, 1843, and July 5, 1844, she made sixty-six +appearances, in sixteen different characters, six of them being wholly +new. She reached her sixtieth performance of “Alice”; her forty-ninth of +“Lucia”; her thirty-sixth of “Agatha”; her twenty-sixth of _Norma_; her +eighteenth of the _Sonnambula_. The jubilee play, _A May Day in Wärend_, +ran on to within a few days of the national mourning for the King Carl +Johan, whose death closed the theatre from March 4 to May 2. Among her +new parts was Gluck’s _Armida_, of which she wrote a characteristic note +to Judge Munthe, on February 17, 1844:— + + “I send you some seats for my ‘benefit’ on the 19th in Gluck’s + _Armida_. I trust that you will greatly enjoy the music. Both the + music, and the piece, are so grand, that my smallness will be shown + out, thereby, in its true light. But I am so thrilled by the sublime + spirit of the music that I am only too ready to risk my own + personality.” + +During the opening of this year, 1844, she was, in concert with Günther, +interesting herself greatly in the fortunes of Josephson. Günther had +begun to scheme on behalf of his tour abroad, during their trip together +in the autumn; and had already in November written to him about a +proposal to give a concert to raise funds for this, in Stockholm. “Jenny +Lind,” he had then reported, “knows all; and has besides received an +anonymous letter from Upsala on the matter.” On the 12th of January, +1844, Josephson received, with rejoicing, a kind letter from Jenny Lind, +confirming the news of the concert which she and Günther were to give +for his benefit.[27] On the 6th of March, he spent the morning arranging +with them the details; but, towards the close of April, the concert, to +his great joy, was shifted from Stockholm to Upsala, and was fixed for +Whit Monday. It succeeded beyond all expectations. “All have come +forward in the most generous, spontaneous manner, and the result has, by +God’s grace, turned out for the best. My journey is now guaranteed.” So +he writes on the 30th of May: “If hitherto I have belonged to Art +privately, I am now challenged to work more generally for the holy +cause. This gift from my friends ought to bring with it a blessing on my +way, for their sympathy has had the largest share in bringing it about. +I am all round besieged with kindness. How remain faithful and +grateful!”[28] So loyally and generously had she worked to fulfil the +dream of another, who shared in her own profound aspiration after the +highest ideal, and was beset by the same obstacles. For two long years, +Josephson had been yearning for this opportunity, and now it was given +him. It was a good work, which proved well rewarded. + +As to the Season, it must have passed much as usual. She wrote to Hans +Andersen, at the time of the national mourning:— + + “Stockholm, 19th March, 1844. + + “MY GOOD BROTHER, + + “Mr. Bournonville mentioned in his last letter to me that you have + been shedding tears because of my silence. This, naturally, I take to + be nonsense, but as my conscience does reproach me in regard to you, + my good brother, I hasten to recall myself to your memory, and to ask + my friend and brother not to be angry with me, but rather to furnish + me soon with a proof that I have not forfeited my right to his + friendship and goodwill. A thousand, thousand thanks for the pretty + tales! I find them divinely beautiful to such a degree as to believe + them to be the grandest and loveliest that ever flowed from your pen. + I hardly know to which of them I should concede the palm, but, upon + reflection, I think _The Ugly Duckling_ the prettiest.—Oh, what a + glorious gift to be able to clothe in words one’s most lofty thoughts; + by means of a scrap of paper to make men see so clearly how the + noblest often lie most hidden and covered over by wretchedness and + rags, until the hour of transformation strikes and shows the figure in + a divine light! Thanks, from all my heart, thanks for all this—as + touching as it is instructive. I long now very much for the moment + when I shall be allowed to tell my good brother by word of mouth how + proud I am of this friendship, and with the help of my _Lieder_ to + express—if even in a trifling degree—my gratitude! only that you, my + brother, are surely better fit than any one to comprehend our Swedish + proverb: ‘Every bird sings according to his beak.’ + + “This country is now in mourning—peace to those who are gone! After + all, one is happiest when once well out of the way. Our theatre is now + closed for about seven or eight weeks, and this is not pleasant, but + meanwhile, we are busy, studying new things. I must tell you, my good + brother, that I have here quite a cosy little home; cheerful, sunny + rooms, a nightingale and a greenfinch:—the latter, however, is greatly + superior as an artist to his celebrated colleague, for, while the + first remains on his bar grumpy and moody, the other jumps about in + his cage, looking so joyous and good-natured, as if, to begin with, he + was not in the least jealous, but, instead of that, supposes himself + created merely for the purpose of cheering his silent friend! And then + he sings a song, so high, so deep, so charming and so sonorous, that I + sit down beside him and, within, lift up my voice in a mute song of + praise to Him whose ‘strength is made perfect in weakness.’ Ah! it is + divine to feel really good. My dear friend! I do feel so happy now. It + seems to me I have come from a stormy sea into a peaceful cottage. + Many struggles have calmed down, many thoughts have become clearer, + many a star is gleaming forth again, and I bend my knee before the + Throne of Grace and exclaim: ‘Thy will be done.’ Farewell! God bless + and protect my brother is the sincere wish of his affectionate sister + + “JENNY.” + +This peace in the “cosy little home” is to be quickly broken up. A +flight abroad is now to be taken, which will carry her further afield +than Finland, or Copenhagen. It is no less a place than Berlin that has +begun to take note of this wonderful singing, and is preparing to +capture it for its own service and joy. Meyerbeer is there, engaged in +bringing out a work, which is to celebrate all the glories of the +Prussian kingdom: and he is anxious to secure all the talent open to +him. He had heard her sing, as we know, in Paris, and had felt, then, +that Berlin was her proper sphere: and, now, his memory and his zeal are +kindled anew by the enthusiasm of an artist of no mean ability, who +arrived at Berlin from Stockholm, with a fervent admiration for what he +had seen and heard there. This artist was M. Paul Taglioni, a brother of +the famous _danseuse_, a descendant, on the mother’s side, of the +Swedish tragedian Karsten, and well known both in Paris and Berlin, not +only as a graceful dancer, but, also, as a skilful composer of ballets, +and a judicious and competent critic. It was to his report that Madame +Goldschmidt always attributed Meyerbeer’s marked anxiety to engage her +at Berlin in order that she might take the principal part in the new +opera—_Das Feldlager in Schlesien_—which he was composing for the +opening of the new Royal Opera-House in the Prussian capital. + +The records of the proposals made by Meyerbeer are lost; but, some time +in that summer, they reached sufficient definiteness to induce her to +determine on a visit to Dresden in July, in order that she might work up +her German to the level demanded by an appearance, on such an historic +occasion, in the Opera-House at Berlin. Off to Dresden she resolutely +went, as soon as her season was over, ending, as it did, on July 5, with +eight performances of the _Turco in Italia_—an almost forgotten opera of +Rossini’s—in which she played the part of Fiorilla. Mdlle. von Stedingk +tells us how she stole off to the theatre, _incognita_, owing to the +Court being still in mourning, and heard her in this Opera, in which, as +she says, “she made even the unpleasant part of Fiorilla graceful and +womanly. But I prefer _Norma_, which is her greatest triumph.” + +Her enthusiasm breaks out in the record of a tea-party which she gave +“in honour of Jenny Lind, previous to her departure for Germany; Carl +and Charlotte[29] were the other guests. It was to me an indescribable +enjoyment, when she sat down at my piano, and sang to us. From that +moment, my little room became dearer to me, and more harmonious than +ever.” + +“The Queen Dowager was extremely kind to Jenny, at the farewell +audience, presenting her with portrait medals of herself and the late +King, and with a watch, which, she said, is ‘To remind you not to forget +the time of your return to us.’” + +Thus the time came for the new venture. She had thought herself escaped +“into a peaceful cottage from out of a stormy sea.” So she had written +to Hans Andersen in March. But a greater voyage into a wider sea is now +before her. The wind is up: the sails are set: she must go. The first +note that she sings in Berlin will have sealed her fate. There will be +no withdrawal possible for her after that. Out into the deeper floods +the strong currents will sweep her. The great European world, its +peoples, its kings, its musicians, its heroes, will close in round her;— +will claim her with irresistible insistence. Her returns to Stockholm— +her “beloved Stockholm”—will become rarer, and rarer: at last, she will +come back only to enrich it with endowments, and to bid it “Good-bye!” + + + + + BOOK IV. + MASTERY. + + + + + CHAPTER I. + IN DRESDEN. + + +And now, for the second time, we find Mdlle. Lind leaving home and +friends, and departing to seek new fortunes in a country utterly unknown +to her. + +The opportunity was a splendid one, and might well have tempted any +aspiring artist—but, it needed careful preparation. + +It had never been Mdlle. Lind’s wont to trust to genius alone for +results which, she well knew, could be attained only by the union of +genius with conscientious industry. As a cultivated musician, a singer, +an actress, she had nothing more to learn. She did not even need +experience; for, after forming her method in Paris, she had already had +ample opportunity for testing its excellence in practical connection +with the stage. But in order to ensure her success at Berlin it was +necessary that she should add to these high qualifications an intimate +acquaintance with the pronunciation, at least, of the German language, +if not, indeed, a thorough mastery of its grammatical construction; and, +far from attempting to evade the difficulty, she adopted the best +possible expedient for overcoming it. She determined to set apart a +sufficient time for quiet and regular study, not in Berlin, but in +Dresden; where she would not only be able to obtain without difficulty +the best possible instruction, but could also usefully supplement it by +attending the performances at one of the best Opera-Houses in Germany. +And here, too, Meyerbeer had arranged to meet her, for the purpose of +consultation with regard to the principal part in the important work— +_Das Feldlager in Schlesien_—which he was preparing for the re-opening +of the Grand Opera-House in Berlin. + +To Dresden, then, she repaired, accompanied by her aunt, Fröken +Apollonia Lindskog—familiarly known by her relatives as Tante Lona— +arriving there on the 25th of July, 1844, three weeks only after her +last performance in Stockholm. + +By the luckiest of chances she was welcomed at the very moment of her +arrival in the Saxon capital by her trusty and valued friend, Herr Jakob +Axel Josephson, who was then, through her generous assistance, +prosecuting his studies in Germany, and who, while accidentally crossing +the Alte Brücke, (the grand old bridge over the Elbe,) passed a crowd of +carriages conveying passengers into the town from the terminus of the +Leipzig Railway, and, peeping into one of these, saw Mdlle. Lind with +Tante Lona sitting by her side. + + “I hailed the driver immediately,” he writes, in his Diary. “The + carriage stopped; I paid my respects to the travellers; arranged to + call on them, later in the day, at their hotel, and left them to + continue their journey.”[30] + +After paying his visit, and finding her “happy and contented,” he +resumes:— + + “It was, in fact, to Jenny that I was indebted for the means of coming + here myself. I had therefore a great deal to say to her; but, between + old friends there is no need of many words.” + +The evening was pleasantly spent in a walk on the Brühl’sche Terrasse by +moonlight, followed by a friendly supper at the hotel; and, after +devoting the next morning to an exhaustive exploration of the town in +search of private apartments for the ladies, a pianoforte for Mdlle. +Lind, and another for Herr Josephson, the three friends walked together, +at six o’clock, to the fine old Opera-House,[31] to hear Wagner’s +_Rienzi_, which had been produced there, with great success, in 1842, +and had furnished the first stepping-stone to its composer’s subsequent +reputation. + +It will naturally be understood that, having visited Dresden for +purposes of study only, Mdlle. Lind lived a life of comparative +seclusion. She was furnished, however, as a matter of course, with +letters of introduction to the Swedish Consul, Herr Karl Kaskel—a +personal friend of Meyerbeer—and Herr Josephson’s sympathetic pen has +furnished us with an account of her appearance at an evening party +given, during the last week in July, at the country-house of that +gentleman’s father. + + “The evening began, as usual, with conversation,” he writes, in his + Diary, “for the Saxon ladies are entertaining hostesses. But, after a + little time, they begged Jenny Lind to sing; and, sitting down to the + piano, she began with Berg’s _Fjerran i skog_. Scarcely had she ended + it before a cry of satisfaction rang through the room. She repeated + the song, followed it up with _Tro ei glädjen_, sang _Fjerran i skog_ + for the third time, and finished with the Romance from Winter’s _Das + unterbrochene Opferfest_. As, later on, she sang the Aria from + Pacini’s _Niobe_ in her grand style, and adorned it with her most + beautiful _fioritura_, the general delight burst forth into loud + applause, and all remained throughout the rest of the evening simply + enchanted; for God knows how long a time had elapsed since any one had + heard anything like it. + + “For us Swedes the meeting was a truly brilliant inauguration of + Jenny’s entrance into Germany, and an especially joyful one, though + only in so small a house; and we remarked with pleasure how anxious + the good Germans were to hear her in public, whether on the Stage or + in the Concert-room.” + +Apart from the sensation she created on this occasion, Mdlle. Lind +lived, in company with Fröken Apollonia, in strictest privacy, during +the whole of the time she remained in Dresden. She had indeed but little +time permitted to her, even for consultation with Meyerbeer or for the +purpose of study; for on the 28th of August—one month and three days +only after her arrival at the terminus of the Leipzig Railway—she was +recalled to Stockholm, to assist, in her character of “Court Singer,” at +the festivities which graced the coronation of King Oscar I. + +Queen Desideria’s watch[32] had already marked the hour for the +wanderer’s return, though on this occasion it was to be represented by a +very brief visit. + +The Court was now out of mourning, and all Stockholm in festal attire to +do honour to the approaching ceremony. Unfortunately, Fröken Marie von +Stedingk, being in close attendance on the Queen Dowager, was prevented +by the imperious demands of Court etiquette from attending the +performances at the Royal Theatre, and her Diary therefore furnishes us +with no account of Mdlle. Lind’s appearances. But we know, from the +archives of the theatre, that they were ten in number—viz., three of _La +Sonnambula_; three of _Norma_; one of Gluck’s _Armida_; and three +introducing single acts of _Der Freischütz_, _Norma_, _Lucia di +Lammermoor_, and _Anna Bolena_. + +So well prepared were the Swedes to appreciate their talented +countrywoman at her true value that they could not endure the idea of +losing her. In the hope of preventing her from singing in Germany, Count +Hamilton, the then Director of the Royal Theatre, offered her an +engagement as principal singer, for eight years, at an annual salary of +five thousand dollars,[33] which was to be continued to her after the +termination of the contract as a pension for life. To this offer she +felt very much inclined to agree, though her best friends tried hard to +make her see that, by so doing, she would deprive the rest of Europe of +all participation in the advantages derivable from her exceptional +talent. For a long time her resolution remained immovable. But one day a +trusted friend bethought himself of a curious method of persuasion, +which could only have occurred to one who understood her nature +thoroughly. After leaving her, as he feared on the point of signing the +dangerous contract, he encountered in the street a certain Consul +General who prided himself upon an intimate knowledge of everything +connected with music. To this gentleman he narrated the circumstance, +with many expressions of regret as to the turn affairs were taking. But +to his great surprise the Consul General took the opposite view, +maintaining that, notwithstanding her successes at home, the artist +herself must have known that her powers were unequal to the attainment +of a similar result in a more extended sphere. Well knowing the effect +which this absurd misrepresentation of the true state of the case could +not fail to produce upon Jenny’s mind, her friend lost no time in making +her acquainted with it; and then and there he had the satisfaction of +seeing her tear up the fatal contract and thus put an end to the +discussion for ever. + +Retreat was now impossible, and as soon as practicable after the last +performance of _Norma_, on the 9th of October 1844, she took leave of +her friends and started on her trying journey, rendered all the more +painful by those fears for the unknown future which her constitutional +diffidence forbade her to shake off. + + + + + CHAPTER II. + AT THE COURT OF BERLIN. + + +Notwithstanding the temporary interruption of her linguistic studies at +Dresden, Mdlle. Lind was far from being unprepared for her approaching +trial when the appointed time drew near. + +Of the severity of that trial, and the gravity of its inevitable though +as yet wholly uncertain consequences, it would have been difficult to +form an exaggerated idea. The successes achieved by the young artist in +her own country counted as nothing when considered in connection with +the ordeal that awaited her in Germany. In so far as her European +reputation was concerned, she was really preparing to make, at Berlin, +her true _début_ in the great world of Art; though her arrival there had +been preceded by rumours which rendered it imperative that she should +appear, not in the character of an unknown _débutante_, but in that of a +finished artist, to be judged, not by the measure of her own merit, but +by the achievements of the greatest _prime donne_ who had appeared +before the world since the beginning of the century. For there were +critics in Berlin who were familiar with the performances of Mesdames +Malibran and Pasta, and Sontag and Schrœder-Devrient, and even of the +famous Madame Catalani herself, to say nothing of Mesdames Grisi and +Persiani and other brilliant stars in the contemporaneous operatic +firmament; and it was absolutely certain that with the performances of +these bright luminaries of past and present years would the performances +of Mdlle. Lind be mercilessly compared. Yet, for all that, she did not +shrink from the ordeal, and when the time of trial came she was ready to +meet it. + +After her last performance at Stockholm, on the 9th of October, she made +instant preparation for her journey, and, accompanied by Mdlle. Louise +Johansson, arrived, in the third week of October, at Berlin, where she +made arrangements for residing, during the winter, in the house of +Madame Reyer, sister to the Baroness von Ridderstolpe, No. 43, in the +Französische Strasse. + +While preparing for her first appearance on the stage, she passed her +time in complete retirement from public life, but her reception by the +circle of private friends to whom she was introduced was of the warmest +character. Meyerbeer was, of course, unremitting in his attentions. His +position towards her was, indeed, an almost painfully responsible one. +He alone was answerable for her presence in the Prussian capital; and +her success or failure were matters of scarcely less importance to him +than to her. His taste, his experience, his artistic judgment, were +staked upon her fitness to sustain the position to which he had +introduced her. Through him she was privately presented to the Royal +Family, the members of which, and especially Queen Elizabeth, received +her with a grace and courtesy which did much to render her visit more +than ordinarily agreeable. On one occasion—memorable as the first on +which she was called upon to display her talent in the presence of the +Court—she was invited to a reception given by the Princess of +Prussia[34] one evening during the last week in November. Concerning +this she thus wrote to her guardian, Judge Munthe:— + + “Berlin, Dec. 2, 1844. + + “I have sung at Court, and been so very fortunate as to please + greatly. This may sound somewhat conceited, but I do not mean it so. + The Countess Rossi (Sontag) was present, and my modesty prevents me + from telling you what she is reported to have said. I am meeting with + extraordinary success everywhere. I go out much into fashionable + society, because this gives the first entrance into the world of Art; + and—do you know?—I am already known by all Berlin, and people talk of + me with an interest so lively, and so flattering to me, that I begin + to think I must be in Stockholm! + + “Forgive me! dear M. Munthe, for thus openly speaking of things as + they occur. I promise not to become proud or conceited; only glad and + happy when things go well.” + +Among the guests present at the reception thus playfully described were +the late Earl and Countess of Westmorland. Lord Westmorland was at that +time the English Ambassador at the Court of Prussia; and, through the +kindness of a member of His Excellency’s family, we are able to present +our readers with a vivid picture of the impression made by Mdlle. Lind’s +singing upon the Countess of Westmorland, who, it must be remembered, +was no unenlightened or inexperienced listener; for Lord Westmorland was +himself an ardent student of music, an excellent violinist, the composer +of no less than one English and six Italian operas, and the founder of +the Royal Academy of Music in London. When released from his political +duties he lived in an atmosphere of Art; and Lady Westmorland’s +testimony is the more valuable since she was in the constant habit of +hearing at home the best music of the time. The lady to whose kindness +we are indebted for our information writes thus:— + + “It was, I think, in 1844 that Meyerbeer brought Jenny Lind to Berlin, + to come out at the new Opera-House there in the part he had written + for her in his opera of _Das Feldlager in Schlesien_. + + “He had told all his friends (amongst whom were my parents[35]) about + this wonderful voice, and predicted that she would be the greatest + singer-artist the century had produced. There was great curiosity + about her, and Meyerbeer talked of her as ‘_un vrai diamant de + génie_.’ + + “Before she appeared on the stage he was asked to bring her to sing at + a small musical party at the Princess of Prussia’s (the late Dowager + Empress Augusta) arranged for the purpose. For some reasons, my father + was prevented from going; my mother went alone. She went in, full of + curiosity, and saw sitting by the piano a thin, pale, plain-featured + girl, looking awkward and nervous, and like a very shy country + school-girl. She could not believe her eyes, and said that she and her + neighbours—among whom was Countess Rossi (Henriette Sontag), whose + fame as a singer and a beauty was then still recent—began to speculate + whether Meyerbeer was playing a practical joke on them, and when he + came up to speak to them my mother asked him if he was really serious + in meaning to bring that frightened child out in his Opera. His only + answer was ‘_Attendez, Miladi_.’ + + “When the time came for her song—I do not know what it was—my mother + used to say it was the most extraordinary experience she ever + remembered. The wonderful notes came ringing out, but over and above + that was the wonderful TRANSFIGURATION—no other word could apply—which + came over her entire face and figure, lighting them up with the whole + fire and dignity of her genius. The effect on the whole audience was + simply marvellous, and to the last day of her life my mother used to + recall it vividly, and its effect upon her. + + “When she reached home, my father asked her— + + “‘Well, what do you think of Meyerbeer’s wonder?’” + + She answered— + + “‘She is simply an angel.’ + + “‘Is she so very handsome?’ + + “‘I saw a plain girl when I went in; but when she began to sing, her + face simply and literally “shone like that of an angel.” I never _saw_ + anything or _heard_ anything the least like it.’ + + “This first effect did not wear off when she appeared on the stage. My + mother used to say that she thought her dramatic power was quite as + great as her musical genius, and that if she had had no voice she + might still have been the greatest of living actresses. And there was + this peculiarity about her acting—that it was entirely part of + herself. It seemed not so much that she entered into the part as that + she became, for the moment, that which she had to express. For this + reason her acting was unequal. She could not render anything in which + there was a suggestion repugnant to her own higher nature. But in a + part that suited her—such as the _Sonnambula_—she expressed every + varying emotion of the character perfectly because she really felt it. + And, for the same reasons, she never acted the same scene twice + precisely alike, just as in real life no one does the same thing twice + precisely in the same way. In her gestures and tones there were little + unconscious variations, which the people who acted with her and went + through their own parts with mechanical precision often found + disconcerting. + + “In these early days she was very careless of outward appearances—her + Art possessed her and left her no time to think of herself. She + disliked the artificial adjuncts of rouge, &c., which are a necessity + of the stage, and as a natural result was often unbecomingly dressed. + My mother herself and her friend Madame Wichmann remonstrated with her + about this and made her attend more to these details, and in the end + she learned to dress for her parts becomingly and gracefully, though + never conventionally. + + “On looking back I cannot help being struck with one thing. My parents + lived a great deal in musical and theatrical society of all kinds, and + I recollect, from my earliest childhood, hearing musicians and actors + talked of and often praised. But even quite as a little girl, in + Berlin, long before I was old enough to know anything about it, or + even to be taken to the Opera, I can distinctly remember having the + impression that Jenny Lind was something quite different from the + ordinary people I heard discussed. And there has always been a sort of + reverence in the way they spoke of her—as they would have spoken of a + very beautiful and very sacred picture or poem. I suppose it was the + intense purity of her nature that made her very acting religious. I + cannot exactly express it, but I very distinctly recollect, as a + child, associating her name with a sort of mysterious reverence. And + even now the same childish feeling seems to come back to me, mixed + with the remembrance of my mother’s enthusiastic love for her.”[36] + +These interesting recollections prove conclusively that even before her +first appearance in public Mdlle. Lind had completely won the hearts of +a brilliant and influential circle of private friends, many of whom +remained in affectionate intercourse with her to the last day of her +life. Their kind sympathy must have encouraged her to face the coming +trial with the resolution and fortitude it so imperatively demanded; +for, strong as was her determination when the crisis arrived, the time +of anticipation was always one of terror and depression. + +At this period also an event took place which exercised a marked +influence on the artistic phase of her professional career, though less +perhaps in connection with the Stage than with the Concert-room. + +She had been invited, on the 21st of October, to a _Soirée_ at the house +of Professor Wichmann in the Hasenheger Strasse. At the moment of +starting Meyerbeer called to pay her a visit; and having, no doubt, many +important matters to discuss with her, stayed so long that she arrived +at the evening party under the escort of Madame von Ridderstolpe some +hours after the appointed time. However, late as it was, she did arrive +there, and in a letter dated October the 22nd she thus describes the +great event of the evening:— + + “Last night I was invited to a very pleasant and elegantly furnished + house, where I saw and spoke to Mendelssohn Bartholdy, and he was + incredibly friendly and polite, and spoke of my ‘great talent.’ I was + a little surprised, and asked him on what ground he spoke in this way. + ‘Well!’ he said, ‘for this reason, that all who have heard you are of + one opinion only, and that is so rare a thing that it is quite + sufficient to prove to me what you are.’” + +This first meeting between the two great artists was a memorable one for +both, and formed the foundation of a friendship which terminated only +with the death of the beloved composer in 1847. + +That Mdlle. Lind stood in sorest need of all the help and consolation +that friendship could afford during the period of suspense that preceded +her introduction to the general public is evident from private letters, +in which she expresses herself in terms of almost hopeless despondency +with regard to her capacity for fulfilling the expectations that had +been formed of her. Her anxiety had, in fact, become almost intolerable— +so deep that it prompted her to write, in agonised insistence, to her +friends in Sweden, even before she had any decisive intelligence to +communicate to them, either of good or evil. + +That the true nature of the intelligence she was really justified in +sending has long since been anticipated by our readers we cannot +reasonably doubt; but, though the coming triumph seemed assured, the +path to the Stage was not exactly strewn with roses. + + + + + CHAPTER III. + THE DÉBUT AT THE NEW OPERA-HOUSE. + + +Before narrating the events connected with Mademoiselle Lind’s first +appearance at the Court Theatre at Berlin, it is desirable that we +should say a few words in explanation of the more than ordinary interest +attached to the re-opening of that splendid Opera-House, so famous in +the history of Art and so closely interwoven with that of the +Hohenzollern dynasty. + +One of the first acts of King Frederick the Great, after his accession +to the throne of Prussia, on the 30th of May, 1740, was the foundation +of an Opera-House, designed on a scale sufficiently splendid to eclipse +the glories of every other theatre in Europe. + +The building was completed in the winter of the year 1742, and on the +7th of December its inauguration was celebrated with extraordinary pomp +by a magnificent performance of Graun’s _Cesare & Cleopatra_, at which +the King and all the Court were present. The fitness of the theatre for +the high purpose for which it was designed was pronounced by those best +able to form a judgment upon the subject to be perfect; and, fortunately +for Art, the building stood almost intact for more than a hundred years. +But a fate hangs over theatres which it seems impossible to evade. On +the night between the 18th and 19th of August, 1843, it was burned to +the ground, in the hundred and second year of its existence; and, +following the example of his illustrious ancestor, King Frederick +William IV. commanded its immediate reconstruction, almost exactly upon +the lines of the original design. + +The new theatre was completed towards the close of the year 1844, and +opened in the presence of the Court on the evening of the 7th of +December. + +It was naturally to be expected that on an occasion so deeply +interesting to the leading members of the House of Hohenzollern care +would be taken to present a piece in harmony with the spirit of the +festival. To this end Meyerbeer had been commanded, as we have already +seen, to compose the music for an Opera the _libretto_ of which was +founded upon an episode in the history of King Frederick the Great, and +had arranged the meeting with Mdlle. Lind, in Dresden, for the purpose +of accommodating the principal part to the style of her performance. The +piece was to be called _Das Feldlager in Schlesien_,[37] and the +_libretto_, carefully prepared by L. Rellstab, brought into prominence +an incident in the history of that famous campaign in Silesia, through +which the world first learned to appreciate at its just value the +military genius of the redoubtable “Vater Fritz.” This piece was a good +one, full of highly dramatic situations, though entirely free from +violence or exaggeration. Meyerbeer’s music was of his best. Fired by +the splendour of this opportunity, he had thrown his whole soul into the +work, and it was in response to his desire that the principal _rôle_ +should be performed by the most finished artist who could be persuaded +to undertake it that Mademoiselle Lind had been invited to Berlin. + +But the intrigues of the stage are inscrutable, and cannot be foreseen +even by the most experienced directors. Meyerbeer’s cherished project +was opposed by a local interest. + +Fräulein Tuczec, who had for years sung at the theatre as _prima donna_, +claimed the right of appearing in the principal part, on the re-opening +of the house, on the ground that she, being a permanent member of the +company, enjoyed privileges of which it would be unjust to deprive her +in favour of a stranger engaged for “guest performances” only;[38] and +for the perhaps still stronger reason that, when it had appeared +doubtful whether Mademoiselle Lind, after having been recalled to +Stockholm for the coronation of King Oscar, would arrive in Berlin in +time to undertake the part, she herself had been requested to study it. + +The case was not without its difficulties. On both sides there was a +show of justice with respect to the conflicting claims; and, even while +those claims were still in abeyance, a false account of the +circumstances had already found its way into the newspapers. To correct +this, Mademoiselle Lind wrote the following letter to her friend, M. +Lars Hierta, at Stockholm:— + + “Berlin, Nov. 25, 1844. + + “Herr Königl. Secretär, + + “Kindly excuse me if, for a few moments, I beg to encroach upon your + valuable time. + + “Having seen, in an article in the ‘Aftonblad,’ reproduced from the + ‘Frankfurter Ober-Postamt-Zeitung,’ that my friends in Stockholm are + incorrectly informed about my position in Berlin, I venture, Herr + Königlicher Secretär, to call your attention to the following lines. + + “I came to Berlin under the impression that the principal _rôle_ in + the new Opera[39] had been assigned to no other than myself; but I + found that it was also given for study to Mademoiselle Tuczec, under + the apprehension that my detention in Sweden might otherwise have + rendered it necessary to delay the opening of the new Opera-House. On + my arrival in Berlin, however, Meyerbeer took it for granted that I, + for whom he had composed the part, should undertake to sing it at the + first representation. He therefore called upon Mademoiselle Tuczec, + and—perhaps with some temper—informed her that I had now arrived, that + the part was mine, and that it was consequently my duty to sing it for + the first time. + + “Mademoiselle Tuczec, who is very nervous, was altogether beside + herself, and wrote a petition to the King begging His Majesty to + permit her to appear at the opening of the new theatre. + + “When this came to my knowledge I was greatly surprised, for I had not + heard a single word of it, and did not even know that the _rôle_ had + been given to Mademoiselle Tuczec. And as I am not fond of strife, and + understand nothing whatever of intrigue, I ceded my place with + pleasure—the more willingly because I considered that Mademoiselle + Tuczec was right, since she had had the part for some time, and was, + moreover, a great favourite with the public here, while I am quite + unknown and a foreigner also. + + “In addition to this there remains the question of the foreign + language. It surely would be very unfavourable for me, under these + circumstances, to make my first appearance in connection with dialogue + and melodrama! + + “It is I, then, who have really arranged the whole matter, and + Mademoiselle Tuczec seems quite satisfied with me. + + “I hope, Herr Königlicher Secretär, that you have been able to + understand my disjointed phrases, and that you will be good enough to + say a few words in my behalf in your paper in order that my friends in + Stockholm may be aware of the true state of the matter—and also of + this, that, though I am a poor sensitive lonely girl, in a foreign + land and surrounded by cabals and intrigues, I am none the less + possessed of a heart that beats high at the thought of Sweden, and am + consequently not always in a cheerful mood; and this I know, that the + pleasure I have been happy enough to give my countrymen—at times, + perhaps, when my mind was most oppressed—would be forgotten, beyond + all doubt, if at any moment I appeared here without success, even + though my talent remained undiminished. But rather than involve myself + in law-suits I would renounce everything; and as long as I have my two + hands to work with I would rather earn my bread, under such + circumstances, away from the stage. + + “Begging you to convey my kind regards to your wife and the other + members of your family, I take the liberty of signing myself, + + “Your obedient servant, + “JENNY LIND.” + +As the reader will, no doubt, have already foreseen, Mdlle. Lind’s +intervention on the side of simple justice produced a marked reaction in +Fräulein Tuczec’s favour; and, to Meyerbeer’s intense disappointment, +the part of “Vielka,” in the new Opera, was officially confided to the +privileged _prima donna_. + +The inauguration of the new Court Theatre was celebrated with the utmost +possible splendour on the 7th of December, in presence of the Royal +Family, the foreign ambassadors, and a brilliant gathering of all the +rank and fashion of Berlin. The general success of the festival was, of +course, assured beforehand; but though _Das Feldlager in Schlesien_ +contained some of the best and most attractive music that Meyerbeer had +as yet produced, it was evident that it failed to make the desired +impression upon the public—for the simple reason that the principal +_rôle_ was unsuited to the style of the performer who had undertaken to +interpret it. It bristled with difficulties with which but very few of +the best singers of the day would have been able to contend; and the +music, expressly written for Mademoiselle Lind, had been so exactly +adapted to the quality of her voice and the style of her execution, that +it would necessarily have lost its greatest charm if it had been +entrusted to any other singer than herself, however highly accomplished. +As it was, the new piece could scarcely have been regarded as having +fallen very much short of a failure; and Meyerbeer’s chagrin at the cold +reception of his long-cherished work was very bitter indeed. It was an +unfortunate mistake, and the more to be regretted because it placed a +really clever singer and actress—which Mademoiselle Tuczec undoubtedly +was—in a cruelly false position. + +In the meanwhile, since Mdlle. Lind had been prevented, by untoward +circumstances, from taking an active part in the festival with which the +new Opera-House was inaugurated, there clearly remained no reason why +she should not make her first appearance before a German audience in one +of her own favourite parts; and she herself felt it to be eminently +desirable that an Italian Opera should be selected for the occasion. + +Her choice fell upon _Norma_, in which she had already achieved immense +success, notwithstanding the well-known fact—or perhaps by reason of it— +that her interpretation of the _rôle_ differed in every one of its most +striking characteristics from that adopted by every _prima donna_ of +note who had undertaken to impersonate the unhappy priestess from whom +Bellini’s masterpiece takes its now familiar name. And, though Mdlle. +Lind chose it for her _début_, without a thought of constructive +rivalry, she really, by that bold and, as it turned out, most happy +choice, unconsciously staked her reputation against that of every _prima +donna_ who had charmed the public, from Madame Pasta, for whom the part +was written, in 1832, to Madame Grisi, who was nightly playing it in +London and in Paris in the self-same year 1844. + +The _début_ was fixed for Sunday the 15th of December, and its success +exceeded the warmest expectations of all concerned. The public was in +raptures—the critics were disarmed. The heroines of the past and present +were forgotten. The new reading of the part commended itself to all. +Madame Pasta had rendered it with a noble energy, a fiery power, worthy +of high admiration, though, it must be confessed, more remarkable for +its vigour than its womanly tenderness. Madame Grisi, inheriting the +_rôle_ directly from her great predecessor, in company with whom she +had, in the original cast, played the secondary part of _Adalgisa_— +Madame Grisi, with even less of tenderness and more exaggerated energy, +delineated a Pythoness, with whom a Gallic barbarian might very possibly +have fallen in love. But _Pollio_ was not “a Gallic barbarian.” He was a +true Roman, voluptuous, inconstant, ready to sink weakly into the arms +of a new mistress without a thought of remorse, when his passion for his +first _inamorata_ began to cool, but incapable of yielding to the +violence of a Mænad. He might perhaps have fallen in love with Madame +Pasta’s _Norma_, but not with Madame Grisi’s. + +Upon these two primary interpretations of the part all later ones were +based, until, for the first time in its history, Mdlle. Lind presented +the impassioned Druidess before the world in the character of a true +woman. The critics of Berlin, familiar with every tradition of the +Stage, accepted the new ideal as the highest impersonation of the +character of _Norma_ that had as yet been presented to the public. One +of them,[40] writing in the leading journal of the day, gives us the +following account of the impression it made upon him, both from a +musical and a dramatic point of view. After some preliminary remarks of +no general interest, he begins his critique proper with a description of +the artist herself:— + + “Her voice,” he says, “not without fulness, but more pleasing than + powerful, moves with charming lightness and certainty; though the + middle register is sometimes shaded by a soft veil which serves to + bring out the upper notes in clearest and most silvery contrast. This + beautiful natural gift is supplemented by a groundwork of most + diligent study. Her pronunciation—though the German language is not + familiar to her—is pleasing, clear, and distinct. She possesses that + sustaining-power of tone which in the best Italian school lends so + peculiarly tender a colour to Recitative. But the high cultivation of + her style most strikingly manifests itself in the clearness and pearly + evenness of her passages. We have heard such passages sung with + greater rapidity, but never with greater perfection. + + “So much for the Singer. + + “And the Actress—especially in the elasticity of her motions—is of + fully equal excellence. + + “All her movements have a womanly charm, which gives a beautiful + expression to her voice, while, at the same time, it shows no lack of + character, or energy, or majesty. + + “One might not unnaturally suppose, from these general features in the + portrait of our artist, that _Norma_, at least, ruled by demons of + darkness, would give her some trouble. But it is exactly here that her + conception reconciles us with this fearful character. She bases it + throughout upon the element of love, that one day changes this proud + priestess into a humble slave. Pasta presents a “Norma” _before_ whom, + our artist a “Norma” _with_ whom, we tremble. The art of the one is + broader, more astonishing; that of the other more sweet and + enthralling. Upon these essential peculiarities the part depends for + its culminating point of interest. + + “Until now no singer has ever sung the Cavatina, _Casta Diva_, as we + think it ought to be sung. She clothes the melody in that pale + romantic moonlight under the influence of which it was conceived, and + she knows so well how to sustain this colouring throughout the + difficulties of the mechanical passages—that the highest triumph of + her thrilling delivery is achieved in the clear execution of the + chromatic runs. The singer here obtained a mark of recognition which + has never before been witnessed within the experience of any of us—the + air was encored, and the artist called forward in the middle of the + act! + + “The summons of the singer before the curtain after the first act and + at the close of the performance is a theatrical accessory which speaks + for itself. Among the public there was not one single dissentient + voice: its verdict truly represented the expression of its thanks for + the gift received.” + +Warm as is this eulogium, those who are fortunate enough to remember +Mdlle. Lind’s impersonation of the part of “Norma” will confess that it +is in no degree exaggerated. “Norma” was certainly one of her most +perfect creations, comparable only to her interpretation of the _rôles_ +of “Alice” in _Robert le Diable_ and “Amina” in _La Sonnambula_. Even in +the masterpieces of Mozart, her vocal powers were scarcely displayed to +greater advantage, and as an actress she could not have won higher and +purer praise, even in a classical tragedy. + +From the moment of this first performance, the reputation she had +already attained, in Stockholm, was more than confirmed, and her +position in Berlin assured. She appeared in _Norma_ for the second and +third times with equal success. Then followed a few days of retirement +from the turmoil of actual publicity, concerning the employment of which +we are furnished with an interesting account from a sympathetic pen. + +On the 23rd of December her young friend, Herr Josephson, arrived in +Berlin on an invitation to spend Christmas with her. After meeting her +at Madame Reyer’s he writes in his Diary:— + + “I have spent a merry Swedish Christmas Eve with Jenny and the Reyers. + The Baroness Ridderstolpe was there, and some Swedish ladies who were + here on a visit had been assisting our hostess to arrange everything + in true Swedish fashion. Amidst joyful friendly faces, cheering and + beautiful gifts, and a profusion of lights, a harmonious tone pervaded + the whole, despite a few passing clouds over the sky of the Swedes + when thinking of the dear ones left behind. If we were to be so far + away from home we could not wish for anything better or happier!” + +The homely little Swedish festival recalls a similar one which took +place in Paris in 1841, at the house of Mdlle. du Puget. + +But how different the circumstances. Then Mdlle. Lind was labouring to +acquire the technical knowledge and power of execution, with which she +hoped one day to accomplish something worthy of the high mission which +in her heart of hearts she felt certain had been committed to her. Now +she had accomplished it. There was hard work before her, it is true; and +it was not her wont to neglect anything that she believed to be her +duty. Still, it was familiar work, and there could be no reasonable +doubt as to its results. + + + + + CHAPTER IV. + ‘DAS FELDLAGER IN SCHLESIEN.’ + + +Mdlle. Lind’s triumph was but a few days old when she began to devote +herself to the exercise of that boundless charity in which, throughout +the whole of her life, she took infinitely greater interest than that +which she bestowed upon her own advancement in the world. + +On Sunday, the 29th of December, Herr Josephson—who had been reading one +of Pastor Lindgren’s sermons to her early in the morning at Madame +Reyer’s—accompanied her, later in the day, to the house of Madame +Birch-Pfeiffer, a lady under whose superintendence she had resumed her +study of the German language so inopportunely interrupted in Dresden. + + “She had just returned,” says Herr Josephson in his Diary, “from the + Intendant of the Theatre, Herr von Küstner, who had offered her an + engagement for six months, with an honorarium of six thousand thalers + and a benefit.[41] She had, of course, not yet given her answer; but + she felt grateful and happy that such a sum should have been offered + to her without any suggestion whatever from herself. + + “‘I feel bound,’” she said, “‘in one way or another, to prove in a + practical way my thankfulness to God, who has given me so much + prosperity. You remember—do you not?—something that I once spoke to + you about when we were at Dresden? I myself have good reason to + remember it, for now you will be able to go to Italy whenever you + like.’[42] + + “We had only a short distance to walk. There was no time for long + explanation. I only replied, therefore, that I thought it was too soon + to think of this, and that, moreover, in accepting her proposal, I + should always consider myself her debtor, as even I might hope for + more success in the future. + + “Every day reveals to me some new trait in her character; and I know + not which is greatest, my gratitude to, or my admiration for, her. I + stand daily on a more and more intimate and brotherly footing with + her, and am therefore able to accept gladly and thankfully from her + that which from many others I could not take without a certain + reservation of feeling. I can only pray that, in her restless life, + peace may one day obtain the victory.” + +Of the result of this conversation we shall have to speak more fully +hereafter. For the moment we must follow Mdlle. Lind in the fulfilment +of her own career. + +She was already accepted as the greatest singer and actress then living. +Meyerbeer was in raptures with her, and his desire that the principal +_rôle_ in his new Opera should be assigned to her grew stronger and +stronger every day. Though he had, _bon gré mal gré_, suffered Fräulein +Tuczec to appear in it on the opening night, he had never relinquished +his long-cherished project. He had written the part of “Vielka” +expressly for Mdlle. Lind, and was quite determined that the task of +interpreting it in accordance with his own idea should be confided to +her. It was due to his artistic position that Fräulein Tuczec should +resign into more masterly hands the duty she had so imprudently +undertaken to fulfil, and fulfilled so imperfectly that the success of +the Opera was more than endangered by the unfitness of the _rôle_ for +her. To this compromise Mdlle. Lind was quite willing to assent, but +some little time and a great deal of very hard study were needed in +order to secure a perfect interpretation of the _rôle_. For, after the +manner of the time-honoured German _Schauspiel_, the new Opera +contained, in place of classical recitative, long passages of spoken +dialogue, and it was chiefly for the sake of attaining a more perfect +accent in the delivery of these that she had resumed her studies in +German under the direction of Madame Birch-Pfeiffer. + +She could scarcely have made a better or a more fortunate choice; for +the lady—of whom we shall have to speak again more particularly +hereafter—had herself been well known as a clever and intelligent +actress, and under her maiden name—Charlotte Pfeiffer—had appeared on +the stage with success in Munich, Vienna, Berlin, and many other +important German capitals. + +Under the superintendence of this lady, Mdlle. Lind made such rapid +progress in the German language that within less than a fortnight after +her third performance of _Norma_ she was ready to appear in the new +part. + +The gifted composer was delighted with her interpretation of his music, +which, as was his wont, he altered, re-wrote, improved, and not +unfrequently injured, with microscopic attention to every minutest +detail till the very last moment. Herr Josephson was present at two of +the last rehearsals, on the 3rd and 4th of January, which he thus +describes in his Diary:— + + “January 3, 1845, Meyerbeer was altogether enchanted with Jenny’s + singing, and embraced her at the end of the rehearsal. Before + producing the Opera he called upon her, to the best of my belief, at + least a hundred times, to consult about this, that, or the other. He + alters incessantly, curtails here, dovetails there, and thus, by his + eagerness and anxiety, prevents the spontaneous growth of the work, + and imparts a fragmentary character to its beauty.” + +In this fastidious desire to secure the most perfect finish in every +insignificant detail Meyerbeer was only following out his own invariable +custom—and, after all, his crowd of after-thoughts was not greater than +that which haunted Beethoven until his works were actually in print. +However, he was satisfied at last; _Das Feldlager in Schlesien_ was duly +performed, with Mdlle. Lind in the principal part; and its effect upon +the audience was even more striking than that produced by the great +performance of _Norma_ exactly three weeks previously. + +The most influential journal of the period gave an account of the +performance no less generously enthusiastic than that which had appeared +after the first representation of _Norma_. + + “Through her second _rôle_—‘Vielka,’ in the _Feldlager_—Mdlle. Lind + has proved,” says the critic, “that her talent fulfils the highest + conditions not only in one direction, but in many. + + “Our task would never come to an end were we to notice every striking + detail, every truthful charm, with which throughout the entire _rôle_ + she illustrated her delineations. Her outward expression rendered + every inward feeling with the veracity of a mirrored picture. Fear, + love, hope, joy, all imprinted themselves with equal ease and + truthfulness to nature upon every gesture and every significant + movement. She set before us earnest, tragic, joyful, lively surprises, + in endless variety. We remember, for instance, the manner in which she + rendered the little phrase, ‘He is saved! He is hidden!’ in the finale + to the first act; how, in the third act, she dragged Conrad to the + writing-table; and—more beautiful than all—how she sang the little + added recitative at the close as she retired backwards from the royal + cabinet. + + “But are we to busy ourselves, then, only with the acting? Have we + nothing to say concerning the singer? + + “Yes, indeed! to repeat everything that we said after her first + appearance. The singer is here exactly what she was then. The mild + _timbre_ of the voice, the clearness of the finished passages, the + colouring of the tones through their ever-changing expressions, are + here, as everywhere, apparent. In a host of piquant cadences + introduced by the composer, no less than in the duet with the two + flutes in the third act,[43] the art of the singer asserts itself in + its most powerful form. And thus a picture is presented that, through + the romantic conception of the whole no less than through the charm of + its multifarious details, imprints itself indelibly upon the soul.” + +It was in all probability this highly-favourable critique which +Mademoiselle Lind sent to her friend, Fru Lindblad, in a letter dated +January 8, 1845, from which we reproduce the following extract:— + + “Everything seems to go well in hand. It would be impossible to + imagine a greater success than I have made here in Berlin. Sontag + herself had not so brilliant a triumph. Last Sunday, the 5th, I + appeared in Meyerbeer’s new Opera, and I herewith enclose a critique. + + “I do feel so happy about Meyerbeer’s exceeding satisfaction. And I + feel easier in my mind for having been able to put his Opera into + better relief; for through Mdlle. Tuczec’s unequal rendering of my + part it very nearly came to grief. I almost think I achieved a greater + triumph than in _Norma_. + + “Last night Josephson and I were at Frau Bettina Arnim’s, and I cannot + conceive how the time passed so quickly. We did not return till after + twelve! The old lady is divinely childlike sometimes. When she is in + her right element, and creeps up in her chair, with all those sweet + girls dispersed around her on the floor, one can only envy their + light-heartedness and independence of the narrow judgment of the + world. + + “Nowadays the world is influencing me very considerably, and just now + I cannot say that creeping is my principal pleasure. It looks, + however, as if I might become independent some day; for I am now + invited to go to London, and it will be curious to see where all this + will land me. This evening I am invited to Tieck’s.” + +Continued on the 9th of January, 1845:— + + “Last evening was one rich in enjoyment. The talented old man,[44] + with that frail body of his, was a touching sight. I had the honour of + taking turns with him; for, when he had recited a poem, I had to sing + a song. And in this way the evening flew by very quickly indeed.” + +Though she speaks thus modestly of the possibility that she may some day +“become independent,” it was evident that her future was now assured. +The demonstration that accompanied her first appearance in _Das +Feldlager in Schlesien_ proved to be no evanescent burst of enthusiasm. +Every one of her performances was a veritable triumph, and so strong was +the popular feeling that, after the fourth performance of _Das Feldlager +in Schlesien_ on the 21st of January, she was publicly greeted with a +serenade, which is thus described in the journal from which we have +already quoted:— + + “After the Opera, in which, as always, Mdlle. Lind had achieved the + most brilliant success, a number of singers and young musicians + greeted the artist at her residence with a vocal serenade. Four poems, + by Messieurs Förster, Kopisch, Schnackenburg, and Rellstab, had been + set to music for the occasion by Messieurs Rungenhagen, Commer, Lührs, + and Wichmann. The artist received this expression of homage to her + talent in the modest manner which so greatly enhances the value of her + artistic gifts, and seemed deeply moved by this acknowledgment of + them. The poems were brought to her printed upon a white satin fillet, + and presented, with a laurel crown, upon a satin cushion.” + +The white satin fillet was preserved by Madame Goldschmidt, and is still +treasured by her family as a precious heirloom. + + + + + CHAPTER V. + THE BUNN CONTRACT. + + +We called attention in our opening chapter to the fact that, +notwithstanding a very wide-spread belief to that effect, Mdlle. Lind’s +artistic reputation was neither confined to nor even made in the country +of her final adoption—England. + +Nor was it the special property of Germany—though, for the world in +general, it certainly originated there. + +Before she had appeared five times on the stage in Berlin, it had spread +so far that an attempt was made to induce her to visit London. + +She alludes to this, as we have seen, in her letter to Fru Lindblad, +written two days after her first appearance in the part of “Vielka.” + +The matter was brought about in this wise. + +Mr. Alfred Bunn, the then lessee of Drury Lane Theatre, went to Berlin +in the hope of securing Mdlle. Lind for his approaching season of +English Opera. He was an experienced manager, and had attained, by long +experience, the power of predicting, with absolute certainty, whether or +not an artist was likely to find lasting favour with the public. His +visit to Berlin was well-timed. He was fortunate enough to hear Mdlle. +Lind, and to be thus enabled to judge for himself how far the rumours he +had heard were well-founded. To a man of his long experience, one +hearing was more than enough to decide the question. He saw at a glance +that, if he could only succeed in attaching her to his company at Drury +Lane Theatre, his fortune would be made. And, being a man of prompt +action, he lost no time in making an offer which, to a young singer, +seemed not illiberal. But how could she form a fair judgment upon it?— +she who was utterly ignorant of everything connected with the stage +except in so far as its artistic aspect was concerned? He pressed for an +immediate answer. Naturally enough, she hesitated. He was urgent. It was +manifestly to his interest to allow her the least possible time for +reflection, and still less for taking advice; for the intervention of a +thoroughly disinterested and business-like friend might ruin everything— +for him. Not a word could be said against his position from a business +point of view. He was perfectly justified in endeavouring to secure the +services of the most splendid dramatic artist he had ever met with on +the lowest possible terms. But it was hard upon the artist, who was +probably less able to form a true estimate of her own value in the +theatrical market than any one in Berlin. She knew what she was worth to +Art; but the manager alone knew what she was worth to him. And, as a man +of business, he was certainly not bound to enlighten her on a subject in +which her interests were diametrically opposed to his own. The danger +was that some one else might enlighten her at any moment. And to prevent +this he pressed his offer upon her with the utmost possible urgency. It +would be unfair to blame him for it. Any other manager would quite +certainly have done the same. Yet our readers must surely feel with us +that it was very hard upon her. + +On the 10th of January the matter came to a crisis. + +On that evening Mdlle. Lind was to play the part of “Vielka” for the +second time, and so great was the excitement with which the announcement +of the coming event was received, that Herr von Küstner, the Intendant +of the Opera-House, finding it impossible to supply the demand for +places, determined to raise the prices of admission. As the season +advanced, the demand for tickets increased to such an “extraordinary and +unaccustomed extent,” that the number of applications frequently +amounted to twice, and even thrice, the number of places at the disposal +of the Royal Intendantur, who found it necessary to issue elaborate +instructions as to the form in which preliminary application for tickets +was to be made. Even with these safeguards the number of final +disappointments, when the season came to a close, was enormous; and, so +great was the pressure, that no less than four clerks were kept +constantly employed in answering the letters of application in the order +of their arrival. + +In the midst of this excitement Mr. Bunn was fortunate enough to obtain +a seat in the box of the British Ambassador. We have already had +occasion, in a previous chapter, to speak of Lord Westmorland’s deep +interest in everything connected with the Art, of which, during the +whole of his long and useful life, he was so generous and munificent a +patron. He was no less enthusiastic in his admiration for Mdlle. Lind’s +talent than Lady Westmorland, whose opinion on the subject we have +already learned; and his personal regard for her was sincere and +lasting—so lasting that he remained her friend until the end of his +life. He had been informed that an engagement for London had been +proposed; and, for the credit of his country’s taste, he was anxious +that so great an artist should be heard and duly appreciated there. It +is more than probable that she had, before this, asked his advice upon +the subject; but what could he say? He was as ignorant of managerial +business and managerial terms as she was, and was an absolute stranger +to the manifold intrigues which seem to be inseparable from the destiny +of a “Child of the Drama.” To him the proposal seemed an advantageous +one, and there seems no doubt that he said as much to her. + +Our information concerning the events of this memorable evening is very +far from complete. In after life Madame Goldschmidt could rarely be +induced to speak of the occasion, the disastrous results of which she +could never recall without pain. + +In presence of this element of doubt it seems not unnatural to believe +that His Excellency may well have expressed his opinion on the matter +without resorting to actual persuasion; and we now know with absolute +certainty that he was at first inclined to regard the proposal in a +favourable light, but afterwards entirely changed his mind, and rejoiced +greatly that it was never put into execution. + +Passing from the discussion of the incidental circumstances here +related, we proceed to put our readers in possession of a literal +translation of the now famous “Bunn contract,” the text of which was +originally drawn up in French to the following purport:— + + “Mr. Bunn director of Drury Lane Theatre London makes the following + offers to Mdlle. Jenny Lind and engages to execute them entirely at + his own risks and perils if Mdlle. Lind accepts them: + + “(1) Mr. Bunn engages Mdlle. Lind to sing twenty times at Drury Lane + Theatre either from 15th June to 31st July 1845 or from 30th September + to 15th November 1845. It depends upon Mdlle. Lind to decide which of + these two different epochs is most convenient to her, but she engages + herself to make known her choice to Mr. Bunn not later than the end of + the month of March. + + “(2) Mr. Bunn engages to pay to Mdlle. Lind the sum of fifty _Louis + d’or_[45] for each of these twenty representations and allow her also + the half of a benefit (gross receipts). + + “(3) Mr. Bunn engages to pay to Mdlle. Lind the stipulated price of + fifty _Louis_ always twenty-four hours after each representation. + + “(4) Mdlle. Lind will sing three times a week and not oftener except + during the last week. She will never sing on two following days and + Mr. Bunn engages to leave an interval of at least one day between one + representation and the next. + + “(5) Mdlle. Lind will make her _début_ in the part of ‘Vielka’ in the + Opera _Ein Feldlager in Schlesien_ by Meyerbeer and she will + afterwards sing also the _rôle_ of ‘Amina’ in _La Sonnambula_ by + Bellini if Mr. Bunn requires it. It is understood that Mdlle. Lind + will only sing in two _rôles_ during the whole course of her + representations. + + “(6) Mr. Bunn will find at his cost the costumes for the two _rôles_ + of Mdlle. Lind. + + “(7) Mdlle. Lind accepts these conditions but as she has not time to + consider sufficiently the contract which Mr. Bunn presents to her + to-day and as Mr. Bunn must depart to-morrow she reserves the right of + introducing additions and changes into this contract if that appears + to her necessary but she must make them known to Mr. Bunn by the 1st + of March at the latest. Meanwhile it is well understood that such + additions and changes as Mdlle. Lind may introduce must never apply to + the first or second articles which must remain fixed as they are now. + + “It is agreed equally that if the changes and additions are not + agreeable to Mr. Bunn he shall have the right to reject them but if + this be done the treaty shall be revoked and regarded as null and of + no effect. + + “Executed in duplicate at Berlin the 10th January 1845.” + +It was in these terms that the contract between Mdlle. Jenny Lind and +Mr. Alfred Bunn was duly signed and ratified, in the presence of the +British Ambassador, and in His Excellency’s box at the Berlin +Opera-House—and therefore, in the political sense of the term, within +British territory—on the 10th of January, 1845. That is to say, “duly +signed” by Mdlle. Lind; but, as we shall hereafter be able to show, the +“duplicate” given to her was not signed by Mr. Bunn. She had in her +possession no legal proof whatever of her own rights in the matter. + + + + + CHAPTER VI. + HOMAGE TO WEBER. + + +After performing seven times in _Norma_, and five in _Das Feldlager in +Schlesien_, Mdlle. Lind was announced to appear, on Tuesday, Feb. 7, in +_Euryanthe_, on a more than ordinarily interesting occasion. + +Carl Maria von Weber had died, in London, at the house of his friend, +Sir George Smart, in Great Portland Street, on the night between the 4th +and 5th of June, 1826. He had been laid to rest, on the 21st, far away +from home and friends, in a vault beneath the floor of S. Mary’s Chapel, +Moorfields. But, in the autumn of 1844, the surviving members of his +family, aided by a few devoted friends and admirers—foremost among whom +were his pupil, Mr. (afterwards Sir Julius) Benedict,[46] and the then +almost unknown Richard Wagner—made a vigorous effort to treat his memory +with the homage which had been denied to him by his ungrateful +fellow-citizens during his life-time; and, at their expense, his remains +were exhumed, transported to Dresden, and, on the night of Dec. 14, +deposited in a vault in the Cemetery of Friedrichstadt in which his son +Alexander had been buried only a fortnight before. His widow and +surviving children, supported by Madame Schrœder-Devrient and a crowd of +sympathising fellow-artists, covered his coffin with laurels and +flowers, and it was proposed to erect over it a monument worthy of his +fame. Great efforts were made to collect sufficient funds for the +execution of this project, and a grand performance of _Euryanthe_ had +been promised at the Berlin Opera-House in aid of the pious purpose. + +It was on this solemn occasion that, for the first time in the language +in which it was originally produced, Mdlle. Lind sang the part of +“Euryanthe.” + +A prologue, written for the occasion by Herr Rellstab, was spoken by +Fräulein Charlotte von Hagen, and no pains were spared for the purpose +of rendering the performance worthy of its high intent. The whole +musical world took a vivid interest in the proceedings. Dresden had +nobly expiated the long course of neglect which had terminated so sadly, +and so fatally, eighteen years before. And now Berlin had taken up the +good cause, in the name and with the full consent of the whole +Fatherland. + +The task assigned to her, in connection with this solemn festival, was, +beyond all doubt, the most difficult one that had ever been, or was ever +destined to be entrusted to her, during the whole of her artistic +career. And she inherited the difficulty from Weber himself. + +From first to last, _Euryanthe_ had never been understood, either by the +critics, or by the public. The scope and purpose of its design had +escaped them all. + +When the Opera was first produced at Vienna, in 1823, it soared so high +above the heads of the audience, that the brainless wits of the period +nicknamed it _L’Ennuyante_, and the stupid joke was accepted as a +miracle of _esprit_. When Madame Schrœder-Devrient afterwards undertook +the interpretation of the principal _rôle_, she sang the music superbly, +but utterly ignored the supernatural element, upon which Mdlle. Lind +seized as the leading motive of the whole impersonation. She penetrated +Weber’s meaning, though the critics did not. They could not withstand +the power of her conception—it would have been impossible to have done +so—but they utterly failed to comprehend its moving spirit. + +The following quotation from a critique which appeared in the +_Berlinische Zeitung_ on Feb. 13 will explain this clearly enough:— + + “In the first act, the singer presents before us all that she + possesses of loveliness and grace. The duet with Eglantine[47]—Madame + Palm-Spatzer—and the _finale_, are pearls of finished execution. But, + for us, the greatest achievement in this act is the narrative of the + apparition of Emma, which, in dramatic and vocal expression, fulfils + the highest demands of an Art-ideal.” + +This is high praise, but it does not touch the vital point. At the +hundred-and-twenty-ninth bar of the Overture—which introduces the +wonderful _Largo_—Weber directed that the curtain should rise upon a +gloomy tableau, intended to prepare the spectator for the secret which +forms the mainspring of the plot. The stage represents a sepulchral +vault, in the centre of which lies Emma’s coffin, surmounted by a +medieval herse. This having been exposed to view for a few moments only, +the curtain slowly descends again, and the Overture proceeds with the +contrapuntal treatment of the bold subject which follows. + +The audience is now fully prepared to understand the secret of +Eglantine’s treachery; and when, in the first act, Euryanthe narrates to +her the story of the ghostly “apparition,” the connection is kept up by +the recurrence of the weird harmonies already heard in the _largo_ of +the Overture. + +In modern performances, this _tableau_ is almost always omitted. Whether +it was exhibited or not at the Berlin Opera-House we cannot say; but +however that may have been, it is certain that Mdlle. Lind penetrated +the composer’s idea, seized upon this salient point in his conception, +and brought it out so clearly that even Herr Rellstab, though so +strongly prepossessed in favour of another reading of the part, pointed +to this very scene as “fulfilling the highest demands of an Art-ideal.” + +_Euryanthe_ was announced for repetition on the next Opera night, but in +consequence of the illness of Madame Palm-Spatzer, _Norma_ was +substituted for it; it was however repeated on the 11th and the 14th, +after which Mdlle. Lind was announced to appear, on Tuesday the 18th, in +_La Sonnambula_. In this ever-welcome Opera she created so profound a +sensation that, when a repetition of the performance was announced, the +price of the boxes rose to fifty, and even eighty thalers, and no places +could be obtained for less than three thalers,[48] even in the pit—a +price which was said, in the German theatrical world, to be absolutely +unprecedented. + +The _rôle_ of “Amina” was always a special favourite with Mdlle. Lind. +The leading journal thus speaks of one of her later appearances in the +part:— + + “She raises the art of singing to a glorious level. Everything that + the most cultivated _virtuosa_ can accomplish she scatters amongst us, + in richest profusion, in lavish prodigality. The first act is the + field in which these blossoms more especially flourish. For the + actress it furnishes an opportunity for displaying the most maidenly + gentleness, the most charming _naïveté_, and the merriest laughter of + love. Earnestness is reserved for the second act, in which dramatic + and vocal expression melt inseparably into each other. In the third + act, in which the sun of blessed joy alternates with the darkest + clouds of grief, the effect rises to its culminating point. Here we + see the artist in full command of the whole range of many-sided + feeling, and the rich picture, which is thus illuminated by the + dramatic completion given to the poem, leaves nothing more to be + unfolded.” + +We have thought it desirable to insert these long quotations from Herr +Rellstab’s transcendental critiques, since they exactly represent the +feeling produced by Mdlle. Lind’s performances at the time they were +written. We must remember that, however extravagant or “high-flown” +their language might appear in an English critique at the present day, +it was not thought “high-flown” in German critiques in 1844. Moreover, +however glowing the phrases, they were but the echo of those that passed +from mouth to mouth, in the theatre, at the table, in the street, in +every corner of Berlin in which the discussion of artistic topics was +possible. Herr Rellstab only gave utterance to the opinions that were +openly expressed, on every side, by every one capable of forming an +opinion upon the subject. + +But the long chain of successes suffered a temporary interruption. + + “After appearing twice, in the part of ‘Amina,’ on the days already + mentioned,” says the Berlin journal, “Mdlle. Lind was announced, on + the 23rd February, to sing for the fourth time in that of ‘Euryanthe,’ + but was seized with sudden indisposition at the close of the first + act, and compelled to omit a considerable portion of her _rôle_ as the + Opera proceeded. The audience, however, showed the greatest sympathy + throughout the evening with the beloved artist.” + +The indisposition continued for more than a week, to the unspeakable +disappointment of the public. During this trying time the patient was +overwhelmed with visits of condolence, but prudence forbade the +admission of more than a few intimate friends, and these only at +favourable moments. Meyerbeer seems to have been unfortunate in his +choice of days or hours, and expressed his disappointment, on Feb. 28, +in the following letter, originally written in French:— + + “Berlin, Feb. 28, 1845. + + “MY DEAR MADEMOISELLE, + + “Though I have called on you several times since your indisposition, I + have not been so fortunate as some of your other friends in seeing + you. + + “It only remains, therefore, for me to express in writing my + congratulations and good wishes on the anniversary of your _fête_, + which Madame Reyer tells me occurs to-day, and to beg you at the same + time kindly to accept these few flowers, modest and pure as yourself. + + “But what remains for your friends to wish, to-day, for you whom + Heaven has so richly endowed! It has given you that great and + sympathetic voice which charms and moves all hearts; the fire of + genius, which pervades your singing, and your acting; and, in fine, + those indelible graces which modesty and candour and innocence give + only to their favoured ones, and which bring every enemy into + subjection. + + “One can, therefore, ask nothing more for you from Heaven, than relief + from those doubts in the power of your talent which turn even your + days of triumph into days of anxiety; the removal of that indecision + and irresolution which throw you into such continual agitation; and, + finally, the disappearance of that diffident temperament, which, + rendering you distrustful of the source of the sympathies you inspire, + may perhaps, in the end, deprive you of that most beautiful + consolation of human life, friendship. + + “But whether Heaven grants you or not this little supplement to your + other precious qualities, you will always be, for me, my dear + Mademoiselle, one of the most touching and noble characters that I + have met with during my long artistic wanderings, and one to whom I + have vowed for my whole life the most profound and sincere admiration + and esteem. + + “Your ever devoted, + “MEYERBEER.” + +It will be seen from the closing paragraphs of this most kind and +sympathetic letter that Meyerbeer, like so many others at this period, +was sincerely grieved, and even pained, by the diffidence for which +Mdlle. Lind’s character was so remarkable. We shall have more to say on +this subject hereafter, but at the moment at which the above letter was +written more than one cause of uneasiness was at work of which neither +Meyerbeer nor any one else in Berlin entertained the slightest +suspicion—more than one element of anxiety quite serious enough to have +originated the illness which the world, and probably the doctors +themselves, mistook for the natural result of over-study and fatigue. + +For instance, the reader will readily understand that, since the unhappy +moment in which the “Bunn contract” was signed in the box of the British +Ambassador, Mdlle. Lind had never failed to reflect upon it, in secret, +even at a time when her mind was so fully occupied with her work upon +the stage. + +She had, in fact, written to Mr. Bunn, informing him that, for reasons +which to her appeared quite unanswerable, she found it impossible to +fulfil the terms of her engagement with him; and by a coincidence which +it is difficult to believe accidental, her letter is dated on Feb. 22— +the day previous to that on which she was so suddenly taken ill in the +middle of the fourth performance of _Euryanthe_. + +For a whole week the indisposition continued, to the equal +disappointment of the subscribers and the public. Mdlle. Lind was, +however, able to reappear in _La Sonnambula_, on March 2, with +undiminished powers, and on the 11th made her last appearance for the +season in _Norma_, on the occasion of her own benefit. She speaks of her +reason for choosing that Opera, in preference to another which had been +suggested, in a letter to Madame Birch-Pfeiffer:— + + “Berlin, March 7, 1845. + + “DEAR MOTHER, + + “I hesitate no more. All is settled, and I adhere to _Norma_ for my + benefit, and sing on Sunday in _La Sonnambula_. Why? do you ask? + Because I have no time for reflection, and I cannot and will not + appear before the public in a state of uncertainty. So I have begged + to be let off _Der Freischütz_, and to sing the part of ‘Agathe’ on my + return; and all has been conceded. Only, dearest, kindest, best Frau + Mutter, do not be angry with me; but—I am really delighted not to be + obliged to sing, act, and talk in _Der Freischütz_, on Sunday. + Greetings, a thousand times (what lovely German!), to the Aunt, and my + best-beloved little sister, and two tickets for Nanni, from + + “Your heartily devoted, + “JENNY.”[49] + +The announcement of this was followed by so frantic a demand for places +that, long before the performance took place, it was found necessary to +issue an official notice to the effect that no more tickets could be +given out; and it was agreed on all hands that on the evening itself she +surpassed herself in the part she had already made so famous. + + “The artist reached, at the close of her performance,” says the Berlin + journal, “the highest triumph that had been yet attained. The stage + was covered with flowers and wreaths thrown from the boxes in the + proscenium; even the ladies, carried away by the enthusiasm of the + moment, heightened the meed of applause with eyes, hearts, and hands. + The wreath that they gave her was not of laurel, but of roses; a + sister’s gift for the artist, who, among the difficulties of her + calling, appears as so fit a guardian of the Palladium of Womanhood + and Purity. As for her thanks, the threefold summons before the + curtain could win no word from the firmly closed lips; but the eye + overflowed and blotted out the shortcomings of the mouth. + + “The artist appears to-night for the last time. She leaves us—but we + shall see her again, and we hope in the full possession of her gifts; + yes, in fresher, richer unfolding of her spring-blossoms! And may the + mild sun of this spring be the omen of a long, long continuance!” + +And with this touching _Auf Wiedersehen_ the Berlin public took leave of +the actress. But the singer was yet again to be heard in the +Concert-room. + + +We have recorded, in a former chapter, the impression produced upon the +Countess of Westmorland by Mdlle. Lind’s singing at a reception which +took place in the apartments of the Princess of Prussia, not long after +her arrival in Germany. + +This, however, was not the only concert in which the young singer took +part during her first visit to Berlin. + +On Thursday, Feb. 13, 1845, she made her first public appearance in the +Concert-room at a _Soirée_ given by the brothers Ganz; and, if we may +accept the verdict pronounced by the critics of the day as a fair and +unbiassed one, her triumph on this occasion was not a whit less +brilliant than that which she had achieved two months previously at the +Opera-House. + +The same high praise was awarded to the accomplished vocalist on the +occasion of her next appearance, at Herr Nehrlich’s concert on March 10. + +Of the Court-concerts in which she took part about this time the +journals gave, of course, no published account. + +Apart from the private reception given by the Princess of Prussia, and +already described, she sang, on Dec. 18, 1844, at a Court performance, +in memory of which the King and Queen presented her with a valuable +bracelet. And again, soon after the beginning of the new year, she +assisted at two more Court-concerts—the last of the season. The +impression made upon the Royal Family by these performances and the +personal interest taken in her by Queen Elizabeth, were well known in +Berlin, and it is pleasant to know that the feeling was a lasting one +and not the result of a mere evanescent burst of artistic enthusiasm. + +The actual farewell for the season took place on March 13, at a concert +given, in the hall of the _Sing-Akademie_, in aid of the “Asylum for +Blind Soldiers.” The room was so crowded, that not only was the space +usually devoted to the orchestra filled by the audience, but it was only +with great difficulty that room could be found for the soloists and the +accompanying pianoforte. It is pleasant to find Fräulein Tuczec highly +praised on this occasion. + + “Every artist,” says the journal we have so often quoted, “contributed + his part with the best possible good will, and thus deserved the + liveliest thanks of the public. Before all, however, these thanks were + won by the beloved and modest Singer who took leave of us in this + concert. She sang the grand air, ‘_Robert, toi que j’aime_,’ from + _Robert le Diable_, with expression as intense as her execution was + brilliant, and completed the cycle of her artistic achievements in our + capital city by the performance of some of those simple Swedish songs, + which overcame us with so irresistible a charm. The first—‘_Am + Aarensee rauscht der viel-grüne Wald_’—she sang in German; the two + others—one a very tender one, dying away in the softest scarcely + audible tones—in the original Swedish; so that her last notes seemed + already vanishing in the distance. + + “Amidst the loud outbreak of applause which followed, place was found + for a silent sign of acknowledgment. While Mdlle. Lind was singing, a + lady had deposited a wreath and a garland of flowers upon the + pianoforte. The artist now took them up, with a look of eloquent + thanks, and, retreating backwards, greeted the audience repeatedly, + while the shouts of applause continued until she had vanished beyond + the last steps of the platform. + + “Many heartfelt blessings accompany her into her retreat, where she + needs must take with her the rich satisfaction that she has done so + much and been so thoroughly appreciated.” + +And many heartfelt blessings most certainly did accompany her, not only +from the grateful public, but from dear ones with whom she had formed +true, and, as later events proved, lasting bonds of friendship. + +King Frederick William IV., Queen Elizabeth, and the various members of +the Royal Family, behaved to her as true friends, not only then, but in +after years also. + +By Lord and Lady Westmorland she was never forgotten, and among the +members of their family her memory is still held precious. + +She has told us, in her own words, of her pleasant intercourse with the +aged poet Tieck, and the innocent little family party at Frau Bettina +von Arnim’s. Madame Reyer and her sister, Baroness von Ridderstolpe, +were kind and home-like friends; and through their acquaintance with the +family of Herr von Waldenburg, a gentleman of position in Berlin, she +was first introduced to the well-known sculptor, Professor Ludwig +Wichmann, who, with his wife and family, received her, a little later +on, into bonds of closest intimacy. Professor and Madame Wichmann had +been delighted with _Norma_, and had begged Madame von Waldenburg to +bring her to their house, in the Hasenheger Strasse, which was then a +favourite resort for artists and persons of culture; and this first +interview led to the formation of so intimate a friendship between +herself and Madame Wichmann that their affection for each other never +afterwards cooled for a moment. The reader will not have forgotten that +it was at Professor Wichmann’s house that she first met Mendelssohn on +Oct. 21, 1844; and here also, in March, 1845, she met for the first time +Herr Heinrich Brockhaus, the then head of the great publishing firm of +that name in Leipzig, a man of high cultivation and great influence, of +whom we shall have occasion to speak again. + +But, notwithstanding the sympathy she met with on every side, the great +artist seems—if we may trust Herr Josephson’s opinion—to have been +rather dazed than rejoiced, rather bewildered than delighted, with her +almost miraculous success. He speaks with evident anxiety of the sudden +transitions of her moods. + + “She is oscillating,” he says, “between heaven and earth, not knowing, + as yet, on what terms she is with either.” + +This state of mind may perhaps be partly accounted for by the +home-sickness to which, as we have known from the very beginning of her +wanderings, she was so constantly subject. + +She herself justifies us in arriving at this conclusion in a letter +written to her guardian, Judge Munthe, just before the first performance +of _Euryanthe_:— + + “Everybody is so kind to me,” she says, “that it is only through my + unbounded love for home that, in the midst of all these splendours, my + whole soul goes out, all the same, in longing for Sweden. There is an + inexplicable home-sympathy in the depths of my soul, and I look upon + its possession as an unspeakable happiness; for to feel so warmly as + this for one’s country is a divinely elevating sentiment.” + +Surely this is a sigh of longing—not of bewilderment. And surely this, +added to the ceaseless worry of the Bunn-contract, may have done a good +deal towards producing the “oscillation” that gave Herr Josephson so +much concern, and may, possibly, furnish a key to the mysteries of +changing humour which seemed to puzzle him so cruelly. + +Let us bear this last sad sigh for home carefully in mind, while we take +leave, for a time, of the turmoil of Berlin, and accompany her on a tour +which certainly brought her nearer to her beloved Sweden. + + + + + CHAPTER VII. + AT HOME ONCE MORE. + + +On Thursday, March 13, 1845, as we have already heard, Mdlle. Lind’s +last notes died softly away in Berlin at a concert given for the benefit +of the “Hospital for Blind Soldiers.” + +On Wednesday, March 19, she made her first appearance at the Court +Theatre at Hanover in her favourite character of “Norma.” + +We do not propose, during the rapid transitions from city to city upon +which we are now entering, to dilate in detail upon performances which +have already been sufficiently criticised at Berlin. It will suffice +therefore for the present if we say that the now famous songstress was +received by the public with enthusiastic plaudits, and at Court with a +kindly consideration which, during the reign of the succeeding King and +Queen, ripened into undisguised attachment on both sides. From first to +last, her visits to the Hanoverian Court were always pleasant ones, and +she always spoke of them with affectionate remembrance. + +On leaving Hanover, she proceeded at once to Hamburg, where, on March +29, she made her first appearance at the Stadt Theater, in the Opera in +which she had already won so many well-earned laurels for Bellini as +well as for herself. + +During this visit she sang in _Norma_ five times, including her own +benefit, on Tuesday, May 6; five times in _La Sonnambula_; twice in +_Lucia di Lammermoor_ (for the first time in Germany); and once (also +for the first time out of Stockholm) in _Der Freischütz_. + +She also assisted on April 14 at a concert in Altona, at which she sang +the _aria_ from Pacini’s _Niobe_, in which she had created a profound +sensation in Berlin, and her own favourite Swedish melodies. On April 21 +she sang the same pieces at a concert given by Herr Kapellmeister Krebs— +the father of the celebrated pianiste, Fräulein Marie Krebs. On the 25th +she sang at the Court Theatre of Schwerin, in _Norma_, followed by _La +Sonnambula_ on the 28th, after which she immediately resumed her duties +in Hamburg, as above described, concluding with the “benefit” on May 6. +And, after this last performance, a serenade was sung to her, in front +of her hotel—the old “Stadt London”—accompanied by a torch-light +procession, a display of fireworks on the Alster, and other +demonstrations, which lasted until long past midnight, and converted the +ovation into quite a popular festival. + +And now, after the anxieties and fatigues of this most trying season— +trying and fatiguing in direct proportion to its success—came the moment +of its rich reward. + +On the doors of the Royal Theatre at Stockholm was affixed a play-bill +announcing that Mdlle. Lind would reappear in her native town on May 16, +in _Norma_. + + +It needs but little effort of the imagination to picture the joy with +which the lonely exile—for lonely she had been, even amidst the glories +of her most splendid triumphs; lonely, while critics, finding +conventional terms too weak to express their admiration, were exhausting +the hendecasyllabic licence of German idiom in the fabrication of new +ones; lonely, while she stood upon the carpet of flowers in Hamburg; +lonely, beyond all loneliness, even in company of the devoted friends +whose affection she returned with tenfold warmth—it needs, we say, but +little effort to imagine the joy with which this lonely exile prepared +to stand once more upon the boards of the theatre in which she had sung +and acted as a child, to sing and act, in presence of a Swedish +audience, in that same part of “Norma” which she had already +impersonated upon those very boards no less than thirty times, and in +which she had in the meantime excited the wonder and admiration of the +most critically exacting nation in Europe. + +Such joy as that is not to be described in words, and we must perforce +leave it to the reader’s imagination to paint the pleasant picture— +bearing in mind, however, that it was distinctly a double one. The +Swedes were as glad to welcome home their great national artist as she +was to return to them—as proud of her as she was of her country. And not +without good cause! She had left Stockholm, the idol of Sweden; she +returned to it, the idol of northern Europe. This great fact, which +might have been anticipated from very early times, was made more and +more clearly apparent, as each successive capital expressed its opinion; +and, by the time of which we are now treating, there could be no +reasonable doubt as to its ultimate acceptation. The Swedes did not +doubt it, at any rate; and all Stockholm went forth to greet the +national heroine, with songs of joy and gladness. + + “Jenny Lind’s return to Sweden caused general delight and jubilation,” + says Fröken Marie von Stedingk, “and the first reception was a very + cordial one. The steamboat, with the celebrated artist on board—our + ‘Northern Nightingale’—did not arrive until midnight; but, + notwithstanding this, the port and neighbouring streets were so packed + that I could only with difficulty find a tiny corner for myself and + maid on a ship close by. + + “A rocket gave the signal for the liveliest shouts of delight, and a + boat went out to meet the steamship with the most beautiful music on + board. + + “When the crowd began to disperse I was able to get home safely, but + without having caught so much as a glimpse of Jenny Lind, who probably + went straight to her home as quickly as possible. Her stay at Berlin, + and her progress through Germany, had been a long succession of + triumphs, and her modesty and great eminence combined had won friends + for her everywhere.” + +It was the old, old story. Wildest excitement on the one side—feverish +yearning for retirement on the other. It was the quiet of home that the +wanderer longed for—not the shouts of the admiring multitude. + +During the course of this short visit to Stockholm, she sang eighteen +times: twice in _Norma_, twice in _Der Freischütz_, three times in _La +Sonnambula_, twice in _Lucia di Lammermoor_, once in Rossini’s _Il Turco +in Italia_, and eight times in Donizetti’s _La Figlia del Reggimento_. + +One circumstance connected with the last-named Opera, in which she +appeared for the first time on June 9, we must not omit to notice, +though its interest is entirely centred in Stockholm. + +The reader will not have forgotten the “historic fanfare” mentioned in +our account of the little Jenny’s childhood, how delighted she had been +when she heard the soldiers playing it in the street, or how cleverly +she had afterwards imitated it on the little old family pianoforte. +Military music had always delighted her, and the sight of a regiment of +soldiers gave her scarcely less pleasure in after life than it had done +in her infancy. _La Figlia del Reggimento_ had therefore a special charm +for her, quite apart from its claim for consideration as a work of Art, +and she threw so much spirit into her interpretation of the part of the +little _vivandière_ that the Swedish soldiers were wild with enthusiasm +about it. In a letter to Madame Birch-Pfeiffer, dated “Stockholm, June +26, 1845,” she describes her eighth and last performance of the part, on +the previous evening, as a veritable military triumph:— + + “I am free,” she says, “and I mean to rest myself right well. + + “Yesterday, the performance of _Die Tochter des Regiments_ was given + entirely for officers and soldiers. The King had invited them all, and + I was never so much amused in my life. All was cheerful and + good-humoured. The soldiers laughed awfully, and applauded me so + furiously that I really felt quite sorry for their hands. All was + enthusiasm, and it all looked splendid. The whole house was filled + with uniforms. It was beautiful indeed! + + “This evening I am going to sup with my beloved widowed Queen—to my + unspeakable pleasure, for she is so very gracious to me.” + +Yes, “beautiful indeed!” The mischievous little _vivandière_ was +evidently as much delighted with the gallant warriors who applauded her +so furiously as they were with her. What a treat the performance must +have been! and how the King must have enjoyed it! + +It was a happy time, and the return to home-life and home-scenery +inexpressibly refreshing. The first part of the visit was indeed too +much occupied with professional engagements to deserve the character of +a holiday; but after the performances at the Opera were over she spent a +few weeks in pleasant retirement at the country-home of her friends, +Herr and Madame von Koch, of whom mention has already been made in +previous chapters. The eventful episode was however broken in upon, for +the second time within the space of little more twelve months, by a +Royal summons—this time requiring her presence at the Court of Prussia. + +King Frederick William IV. was preparing to entertain Queen Victoria and +the Prince Consort, first at Brühl, and afterwards at Schloss +Stolzenfels, the restored castle on the banks of the Rhine; and it was +his wish that Mdlle. Lind should add to the interest of the festivities +by singing to his Royal guests. + +When the time of departure drew near she received some touching marks of +affection and esteem. + + “The Queen Dowager,” says Fröken Marie von Stedingk, “was exceedingly + friendly to her, and gave a little _soirée_ to which the Royal Family + alone were invited, and at which Jenny sang some operatic airs + splendidly to a pianoforte accompaniment. I prefer, however, to hear + her on the stage. + + “Before going to the Queen Dowager she came to tea with me, in company + with the two maids of honour, Lotten Mörner and Lotten Skjöldebrand; + and we spent together an hour that seemed too short to all of us. + + “After this I went to see her several times; my last visit being paid + for the purpose of taking her a bracelet sent by the Queen Dowager.” + + + + + CHAPTER VIII. + IN PRESENCE OF THE QUEEN. + + +The month of August, 1845, witnessed festivities of unusual interest on +the banks of the Rhine. + +On Saturday evening, Aug. 9, the Queen and Prince Consort started down +the river from Woolwich in the Royal yacht _Victoria and Albert_; and, +escorted by the _Black Eagle_ and the _Porcupine_, arrived at Antwerp on +Sunday evening, _en route_ for Brühl, in response to an invitation from +King Frederick William IV. and the Queen of Prussia. + +The occasion was especially interesting, as this was the first time that +the Queen of England had visited the Continent since her accession to +the throne, and the highest legal authorities were somewhat cruelly +exercised as to the constitutional etiquette of the proceeding. In this +case, however, fact overpowered theory, and on Monday evening the Royal +party was received at Brühl by the King and Queen of Prussia, and +entertained with a grand military concert in the brilliantly illuminated +courtyard of the Palace, where seven hundred performers officiated, +beginning the programme with _God save the Queen_ and ending with _Rule +Britannia_, supplemented by the famous Prussian “_tattoo_”—a kind of +quick march, for drums and fifes, composed about the year 1720, during +the reign of King Frederick the Great. + +Her Majesty’s visit was designedly coincident with the inauguration of +the bronze statue erected in honour of Beethoven, which was to take +place at Bonn on the following day. Accordingly, at one o’clock on +Tuesday, Aug. 12, the monument was unveiled, amidst the firing of +cannon, the flourish of trumpets, and the shouts of the multitudes +gathered together from every quarter, not only of Germany, but of every +other music-loving nation in Europe, and in the presence, not only of +the Royal Families of England and Prussia, but of more Royal and +Princely lovers of Art than we have space to mention. And Mdlle. Lind +was also invited—not to the festival, but to sing privately to King +Frederick William’s Royal and distinguished guests at Brühl and the +restored old feudal fortress of Stolzenfels on the Rhine. + +Herr Heinrich Brockhaus, of Leipzig, who, it will be remembered, had +visited Berlin in the month of March, makes the following entry in his +Diary for Aug. 7:— + + “(1845. Leipzig, Aug. 7.) Eduard’s birthday was celebrated in quite an + exceptional way; namely, by the presence of Jenny Lind. + + “She had begged us to take post-tickets for her to Frankfort on the + Main, as she had been summoned by the King of Prussia to Stolzenfels, + on the Rhine, where Queen Victoria is to be received with great + splendour; and I took this opportunity of inviting her to spend with + us the few hours between her arrival and departure. + + “I met her at the station, and she seemed pleased with my invitation. + Her Swedish companion, who speaks but little German and no French, and + Herr Berg, who, I believe, was her first teacher, came with her, and + we spent a few hours very pleasantly together. + + “She is still in every respect the dear, sensitive, modest girl whom I + learned to know in the spring; and it seems as if the usual + consequences of the excitement and jubilation that she everywhere + creates pass over her. Art is, to her, a veritable religion, of which + she is, herself, a pure and chaste priestess. I have known but few + womanly natures that have made so wholly favourable an impression upon + me as that of Jenny Lind. + + “We accompanied the travellers to the post-carriage, and our farewell + was a very hearty one indeed.” + +A touching little episode connected with the journey is told in a letter +written to Madame Birch-Pfeiffer from Frankfort, and dated Aug. 10, +1845:— + + “I have not much to say; since, as I told you, we spent most of our + time in the _diligence_. But I had one sorrow. + + “When we left Leipzig the conductor took with him a little dog—a + Spitz—as they are always obliged to do, for the protection of the + luggage. The little dog was engaging, and every time we came to a + station I kissed him, but soon afterwards the poor little animal fell + under the wheels, and was run over. Ah! it made me so unhappy.” + +The English correspondents of the various London journals, while giving +detailed accounts of the “Beethoven Festival” at Bonn, were, of course, +necessarily silent on the subject of the private performances at Court; +but the late Mrs. Grote, in her unpublished ‘Memoir of the Life of Jenny +Lind,’ from which we have already made more than one valuable quotation, +gives the following account of the circumstances:— + + “The Queen and Prince and their suite having arrived at the Château of + Brühl—not far from Bonn—Mademoiselle Lind was invited thither, and + took part in the musical entertainment offered by the Royal host to + his guests. + + “An English nobleman[50]—then Lord Steward of the Household—who + attended the Queen to Brühl, and who related to me not long afterwards + all that passed there, said that the expectations raised in the Royal + minds by the reports current in Germany respecting Jenny Lind’s + singing were very high indeed. He himself—an amateur of great + experience, and familiarly acquainted with the stage and its votaries + all his life—was rather disposed to be prepared for a disappointment. + King Leopold of Belgium, who was of the party at Brühl, and aware of + My lord Liverpool’s scepticism, smilingly said to him, ‘I expect, that + you will be satisfied, when you have heard the Lind; she is something + extraordinary.’ + + “Whilst ‘the Lind’ was singing her first air, King Leopold amused + himself by watching the effect produced upon his English friend; and + it was not long before Lord Liverpool, turning his head round, made a + gesture sufficiently expressive to satisfy the King that he + surrendered. + + “‘It was,’ said Lord Liverpool, ‘a combination of style, vocal skill, + and quality of voice, which absolutely took one by storm.’ + + “The Queen and Prince Albert were, both of them, enchanted with the + treat provided for them; insomuch that the King of Prussia pressed + Jenny to favour him with a farther visit, at Stolzenfels, another + schloss belonging to him, near Coblenz. Again Jenny obeyed the Royal + mandate, and again Lord Liverpool was captivated by her incomparable + powers, as were indeed the whole courtly circle there assembled. + + “The Queen of England paid her the most cordial compliments, + expressing a ‘hope of seeing her, one day, in England.’ + + “Jenny was very much pleased with the whole week’s excursion: and + being afterwards at liberty to follow her own bent, she accepted an + engagement to perform a couple of nights in Frankfort, where the + utmost impatience was felt to see and judge one who was beginning to + make so strong a sensation among the whole musical world.” + +After the departure of the Royal party from Stolzenfels, Mdlle. Lind +descended the Rhine again as far as Cologne, where, on Aug. 26, she was +serenaded by the company of the theatre, who presented her with a poem +beginning, ‘_Wohl beherrscht Gesang die Geister!_’ beautifully printed +on a white satin fillet, and addressed to her by “Die Mitglieder des +Kölner Stadttheaters, Köln, den 26 August, 1845.” + +On the following day she bade farewell to the Rhine Provinces, and +started on her journey to Frankfort, where she was announced to appear, +in _Norma_, on the 29th. + +It was during this visit to Frankfort that Mdlle. Lind first actually +met Mr. and Mrs. Grote, of whom she had frequently heard, through Madame +von Koch, and Mr. Edward Lewin; and the acquaintance thus formed soon +ripened into closer intimacy. Mrs. Grote offered to do all that lay in +her power, when she returned to England, to induce Mr. Bunn to rescind +his contract, though she did not expect to obtain this eminently +desirable result without to a certain extent indemnifying the manager +for his disappointment—a condition to which Mdlle. Lind readily agreed, +“adding,” says her friend, “that she would ratify any terms which I +should deem it desirable to arrange, in the way of _délit_, or +‘smart-money’ as the old phrase used to be.” + +Before leaving Frankfort, on her return to England, Mrs. Grote held +another confidential communication with her, which she thus describes in +the MS. sketch already quoted:— + + “Among the things Jenny said to me during those two days,” she writes, + “one was, that her earnest desire was to have done with the Stage, and + to retire into private life as speedily as was consistent with + pecuniary independence. + + “I manifested some surprise at hearing her speak of her profession + with such dislike. She went on to say that it was the Theatre, and the + sort of _entourage_ it involved, that was distasteful to her: that at + the Opera she was liable to be continually intruded upon by curious + idlers and exposed to many indescribable _ennuis_: that the combined + fatigue of acting and singing was exhausting: that the exposure to + cold _coulisses_, after exertions on the stage in a heated atmosphere, + was trying to the chest: the labour of rehearsals, tiresome to a + degree: and that, altogether, she longed for the time to arrive when + she would be rich enough to do without the Theatre—adding, ‘My wants + are few—my tastes simple—a small income would content me.’ She would + sing occasionally, she said, both for charity and for her friends, as + well as for the undying love she felt for the musical Art; but not + act, if she could help it. + + “I mention this to prove how consistent her language was all through + the subsequent phases of her artist-life. I must also say that her + modesty and distrust of her own powers, at this period, showed me that + she cherished a lofty standard of ideal excellence, and was far from + thinking herself what every one who heard her thought her—a singer of + the highest order.” + +This however was certainly the opinion of the inhabitants of Frankfort, +whose enthusiasm was scarcely less remarkable than that of the audience +at Berlin. + +The engagement at Frankfort was for nine nights, from Aug. 29 to Sept. +15, and included three performances of _Norma_, four of _La Sonnambula_, +one of _Der Freischütz_, and one of _Lucia di Lammermoor_. The +‘Frankfort’ correspondent of one of the leading London journals thus +speaks of her reception:— + + “Jenny Lind has a voice of extraordinary compass, the only defect in + which is a deficiency of volume in the medium register. Her upper + notes are delicious, as clear as a bell; and she warbles with the + facility of a nightingale. Her execution is of the most brilliant + kind, and nothing can approach the exquisite propriety and aptness of + her _cadenzas_. They always come in at the right moment: she never + sacrifices sense to sound. Her simplicity of style is, indeed, most + rigid; but this charming naturalness it is which goes so home to the + hearts of her hearers. Her shake is perfect—truly marvellous—proving + that she must have an intuitive knowledge of her Art as well as the + best culture. Her style is full of impulse; or, as the French call it, + _abandon_. In the absence of all stage-trickery or conventionalism may + be distinguished the child of genius. Her opening _Cavatina_, in the + presence of Amina’s friends, and her _finale_, were contrasted with + the highest skill. In the first was the modest subdued expression of + joy—in the last, the triumphant outbreak of rapture at being restored + to Elvino. The untiring energy of this last vocal display, after two + encores, electrified the band as well as the audience. Never shall we + forget the amazement of the conductor, Professor Guhr, a first-rate + musician. Throwing away his _bâton_, after the exhibition of this + wondrous power on the part of Jenny Lind, he clapped his hands + furiously over the stage-lamps.” + +It was about this time that a proposal was sent from Vienna, by Herr +Pokorny, the lessee of the Theater an der Wien, for some performances at +that famous Opera-House during the coming winter. It was a great +opportunity, but the idea was not at all pleasing to Mdlle. Lind, who +thus wrote about it to her friend, Madame Birch-Pfeiffer, through whom +the engagement had been offered to her:— + + “Frankfurt-am-Main, + “4 Sept. 1845. + + “DEAR GOOD MOTHER BIRCH, + + “What do you think of me, and my obstinacy? For Heaven’s sake do not + be angry!—only let me tell you honestly all about it, and then you + will quite certainly be—more angry than ever! + + “Everything goes splendidly with me, and even better than that! and + yet I have such anxiety about Vienna that I scarcely believe I shall + dare to go there. They have such excellent singers in Vienna; and what + can I do there? And, besides that, I gain just as much money by the + journeys I am now making—though Vienna is the chief thing, on account + of the renown. + + “I have had the privilege of speaking to the Prince and Princess + Metternich, here in Frankfort, at Baron Rothschild’s, and they have + both advised me to go to Vienna. And yet—only think!—what if I lose my + whole reputation! If I do not please! And this anxiety grows so much + upon me! And all through next winter the thought of my first + appearance in Vienna will follow me like an evil spirit. Ah, yes! I am + very much to be pitied! + + “Tell Herr Pokorny that I am very grateful to him for the offered + half-receipts and quite satisfied on the score of money; but—that he + must engage some other singer; for he cannot reckon on me, as I cannot + accept the engagement, and cannot believe that I should be able to + carry it out in Vienna. Break it off, good mother. It is too much for + me. This terrible nervousness destroys everything for me. I sing far + less well than I should, if it were not for this enemy. I cannot + understand how it is that everything goes so well with me. People all + take me by the hand. But all this helps nothing! Herr Pokorny would + not be very well pleased, for instance, if I were to sing there once + only and, that once, fail. For the money he offers me he can get + singers anywhere who are not so difficult to satisfy as I am, and who, + at least, wish for something, while I wish for nothing at all! + + “To-morrow (_La Sonnambula_) the Queen of England is coming to the + Theatre, and the King and Queen of Bavaria, and all the royalties of + Darmstadt; that is what they believe here—but I do not! Is not that + lovely?”[51] + +The picture is not a cheerful one. But we shall hear more of Vienna +later on. + + + + + CHAPTER IX. + WITH THE DANES. + + +The short visit to Frankfort had been a genuine success, but a far more +brilliant one was at hand. + +After singing two nights at Darmstadt, at raised prices, and to crowded +houses, Mdlle. Lind prepared to renew her acquaintance with the kindred +spirits with whom she had entered into so close an intellectual +communion in the autumn of the year 1843. + +With the delights of her first visit still green in their memory, the +grateful and appreciative Danes went forth to meet her with +demonstrations of enthusiastic welcome. + +For the moment their hopes were held in abeyance, under the +circumstances narrated in the following communication, addressed by Herr +Schoeltz von Schrœder, the Prussian Envoy at Copenhagen, to His +Excellency Graf von Redern, in charge of the Hofmusik at Berlin:— + + “YOUR EXCELLENCY, + + “The fêted heroine of the day, Mdlle. Jenny Lind, was expected here + yesterday by the steam-packet said to be arriving from Hamburg. + Expectant worshippers without number were assembled on the strand; + there was no lack of wreaths and flowers; the poet Andersen had + prepared a beautiful ‘Welcome’—but, alas! all fell through; and + instead of the Singer came an apologetic letter, which destroyed all + hope of seeing her here.... + + “&c., &c., &c., + “SCHOELTZ VON SCHRŒDER. + + “Copenhagen, September 25, 1845.” + +“Destroyed all hope”—the writer should have said—“for that particular +day;” for she was positively announced to appear, three days afterwards, +and arrived in ample time to fulfil her engagement. Her appearances were +necessarily few in number, for her time was limited, and on one of the +appointed nights the theatre was unavoidably closed, on account of her +indisposition. But her stay was sufficiently prolonged to create a +profound and lasting impression among all classes of society. + +She sang three times in _Norma_, twice in _La Figlia del Reggimento_, +and also at a concert given on Oct. 10 at the Court Theatre, in the +palace at Christiansborg, in aid of the Association for the Rescue of +Neglected Children. + +So great was the success of this charitable entertainment that, on the +following day, the governors of the Association sent her the following +gratifying address:— + + “MADEMOISELLE, + + “During the years that the under-mentioned Association has carried on + its work, the object of which is the prevention of crime through the + education of children in need of moral training, the aid received from + private persons has never represented a richer contribution than that + for which the Association begs permission to express to you its + heartfelt thanks. + + “By using the rare talents you possess in such abundance for the + benefit of the Association, at last night’s performance at the Court + Theatre, you have procured for it an income which will render possible + a considerable development of its means of doing good. + + “On leaving Denmark you will take with you the pleasant consciousness + of having rescued, from dens of vice, many a child, who now, through + your active charity, will be brought up to a useful and virtuous life, + the blessings of which will follow you wherever you go.” + + (_Here follows a long list of signatures._) + + “Association for the Rescue of Neglected Children, + “October 11, 1845. + + “_To Fröken Jenny Lind._” + +Truly, this was a worthy beginning of the work which afterwards reached +so noble a consummation at Brompton, at Norwich, and Manchester, and now +evokes a blessing from the lips of every loyal and patriotic Swede in +Stockholm itself. + +Mdlle. Lind—though she caught a serious cold—was delighted, not only +with her reception by the Danish public, but by the hearty and able +co-operation of the artists with whom she was associated in her arduous +duties. Writing to Madame Birch-Pfeiffer, on Oct. 14, she says:— + + “Ah! people are here more than ordinarily kind to me. The ladies of + the chorus have decorated my room so beautifully; and the whole + orchestra and chorus have been so friendly. On my birthday they + brought me a _Vivat!_ and a serenade. Ah, yes! I am quite at home + here! + + “But the weather has been frightfully bad; so stormy that, up to this + time, I have not dared to venture upon a voyage by sea, for several + ships have been lost. However, as I am giving concerts here to four + thousand people—for they have so large a room—I have stayed on a few + days longer. But—alas!—I have caught a horrible cold; had to put off + the performance the day before yesterday; and feel myself so much + knocked up that I can only sing in my farewell concert, and dare not + risk any more singing this month, if I wish to preserve my voice; and, + as I shall have to use that voice for another year, I have been + obliged to write to Hanover, Bremen, Cassel, and Leipzig, to say that + I cannot come—to my very great regret, for nothing in the world + grieves me so much as not being able to keep my promise. + + “It was particularly unfortunate with regard to Hanover, as the King + had evidently looked forward to it. I have promised to go there as + soon as my engagement in Berlin expires, and my _répertoire_ will then + be more extensive. But it would really not have been right of me to + sing any more now, as I must so soon be in Berlin; for, as you know, + Mother, I need all my strength there.” + +But, the remembrance of the artistic tone which had made her visit to +Copenhagen so thoroughly enjoyable, remained long after the cold, and +the loss of voice, and the stormy weather, had been forgotten. Many +years afterwards she wrote to Madame Bournonville:— + + “I shall never forget the joy with which I sang at Copenhagen; for + never since have I found more cultivated artists anywhere.” + +It was a happy time, in spite of the threatened loss of voice; but it +owed its brightest charm far less to the applause of a genuinely +appreciative public than to the atmosphere of poetry and high +intellectual culture with which the young priestess of Art found herself +surrounded on every side. Thorwaldsen, whom she had known on her first +visit to Copenhagen, had died in the previous year; but her “brother,” +Hans Christian Andersen—as she delighted to call him, in obedience to +the homely Scandinavian custom—was there to greet her with the ‘Welcome’ +mentioned in the letter of Herr Schoeltz von Schrœder. Œhlenschläger +wrote a poem also, and Geheimrath Jonas Collin. Music was represented by +Niels W. Gade, the friend of Mendelssohn and Schumann, and the composer +of _Comala_, _Im Hochlande_, and many other works of undoubted merit. + +The two visits to Copenhagen seem to have made a deep impression upon +the mind of Hans Christian Andersen, for not only did he celebrate them +in verse, but in the autobiographical sketch entitled ‘_Das Märchen +meines Lebens_,’ he speaks of them at considerable length and in a very +enthusiastic tone indeed. + + “The youthfully-fresh voice,” he says, “forced itself into every + heart. Here reigned Truth and Nature. Everything was full of meaning + and intelligence. + + “‘Yes, yes,’ said she, ‘I will exert myself; I will endeavour; I will + be better qualified, when I come to Copenhagen again, than I now am.’ + + “‘There will not be born, in a whole century, another being so gifted + as she,’ said Mendelssohn, in speaking to me of Jenny Lind; and his + words expressed my own full conviction. + + “There is nothing which can dwarf the impression made by Jenny Lind’s + greatness on the stage except her own personal character at home. An + intelligent and childlike disposition here exercises its astonishing + power. She is happy—belonging, as it were, no longer to the world. A + peaceful quiet home is the object of her thoughts; yet she loves Art + with her whole soul, and feels her vocation in it. A noble, pious + disposition like hers cannot be spoiled by homage. On one occasion + only did I hear her express her joy in her talent and in her sense of + power. It was during her last visit to Copenhagen. Almost every + evening she appeared, either in Opera or at concerts. Every hour was + in requisition. She heard of a society the object of which was to + assist unfortunate children and to take them out of the hands of their + parents by whom they were ill-treated, and compelled either to beg or + steal, and to place them in other and better conditions. Benevolent + people subscribed annually a small sum each for their support; + nevertheless, the means for this excellent purpose were small. + + “‘But have I not still a disengaged evening?’ said she. ‘Let me give a + performance for the benefit of these poor children, and we will have + doubled prices.’ + + “The performance was given, and its proceeds were large. When she was + told of this, and that by this means a large number of poor children + would be benefited for several years, her countenance beamed and her + eyes were filled with tears. + + “‘Is it not beautiful,’ she said, ‘that I can sing so?’ + + “I feel towards her as a brother, and I think myself happy that I can + know, and understand, such a spirit. God give to her that peace, that + quiet and happiness, that she desires for herself. + + “Through Jenny Lind I first became sensible of the holiness of Art. + Through her I learned that one must forget one’s self in the service + of the Supreme. No books, no men, have had a more ennobling influence + upon me as a poet than Jenny Lind; and therefore have I spoken of her + so fully and warmly.”[52] + +“She is happy,” says the Danish poet, “belonging, as it were, no longer +to the world.” Yet even then the world intruded itself into the +happiness of the moment, however little the “sensitive young girl” +belonged to it. The nest of the “Swedish Nightingale” was overshadowed— +or, at least, seemed to her to be so—by a “sable cloud,” which +obstinately refused to “turn forth its silver lining on the night.” + +Not even her intercourse with the master-minds, in communion with whom +she spent so many pleasant hours during her second visit to Copenhagen, +could free Mdlle. Lind from the nightmare of her dreadful London +engagement. The remembrance of it haunted her everywhere, and in the +midst of her brightest triumphs, oppressed her sensitive and +unsophisticated nature with a quite unreasonable terror, which, as time +wore on, sensibly undermined her health, and caused her a world of +unhappiness. + +On Oct. 14 she wrote to Madame Birch-Pfeiffer, in a letter which has +already been partly quoted in an earlier chapter:— + + “What do you say to Mr. Bunn, who has lately announced that I must + make my _début_ at Drury Lane on the 19th of October!! otherwise I + shall have shamefully broken my contract? Ah! ah! mother! More foul + weather is in store! But he can do me no harm, for I shall never in my + life go to London. And—is it true?—have I dreamed it?—or was not the + contract signed with my name only, and his name not appended to it? + Was it not so? I do not know where that horrid thing (the contract) + is. Is it with you? or is it in Sweden? In either case, give me + comfort! Dear mother, give me comfort, and write to me once more + before I return to Berlin, as I shall stay a few days in Altona with + Madame Arnemann.” + +Strange as it may seem, this suspicion as to the omission of Mr. Bunn’s +signature was found to be perfectly justified. Why the manager did not +append his own name to a document so important it is difficult to +understand; but he certainly did not append it—at least to the copy left +in Mdlle. Lind’s possession—as we learn from another letter written by +her to the same lady, from Nienstädten, on Oct. 28, 1845:— + + “I have, only to-day, found the English contract; and I was quite + right—the name of Mr. Bunn is wanting, and therefore, I am told, the + contract is not valid. Altogether, since I received the letter from my + good mother, I have been much easier; and I am easier still now, in + every way, than I was. And for that I have to thank my firm + determination to leave the stage. _Mon Dieu!_ This happiness will be + too much for me.” + +While Mdlle. Lind’s mind was thus agitated by mingled hope and fear, +Mrs. Grote was doing her best to remove the difficulty, by persuading +Mr. Bunn to cancel the unhappy “contract,” upon payment of £500, as +forfeit money. But, in the meantime, the most unfounded rumours were +spread on every side. It is doubtful whether Mr. Bunn, even now, gave up +all hope of securing his prize. One section of the English public, at +any rate, did not give up all hope of hearing the coveted _prima donna_ +at Drury Lane, while another felt equally certain of enjoying that +pleasure at Her Majesty’s Theatre. For the idea that Mdlle. Lind +contemplated the acceptance of an engagement at the last-named house— +which, at that period, she most certainly did not—was mentioned +everywhere—and, of course, after the manner of reports in general, and +utterly unfounded ones in particular, it was mentioned with the +assurance that it was absolutely and most incontrovertibly true. Each +repetition was based on “certain private intelligence” which no one but +the narrator possessed; and in process of time the story was told so +well that no one dreamed of questioning its veracity. In all probability +it first found utterance in the mysterious _on dit_ of some imaginative +journalist. But it is quite possible that it may have obtained increased +consistency from the fact that, in the hope of doing the best she could +for her friend, Mrs. Grote asked advice on the subject from Mr. Lumley— +who was her great friend also. If—as is more than probable—Mr. Bunn +discovered this, the step between giving advice concerning one +engagement and proposing another one in its place would have seemed to +him so microscopically small that, although Mr. Lumley did not really +propose an engagement for Her Majesty’s Theatre until long after this, +it would have been difficult to convince the manager of Drury Lane that +no sort of intrigue had ever been introduced into the business. For +intrigue is the natural atmosphere of the Theatre, in England, as on the +Continent; and in this case Mdlle. Lind, who was ignorant of its +simplest rudiments, was accused of being its instigator when she was in +reality its victim. It was her ignorance of the machinations to which +the Stage is chronically subject that caused her so much needless +anxiety. She did not know that Mr. Bunn’s threats were absolutely +nugatory; that damages could no more be claimed from her in Berlin than +they could be claimed, at this present moment, in Paris, from a French +composer against whom they had been awarded in England: that she was as +safe in Prussia as if the contract had never been signed. + +She was as inexperienced in all such matters as a child. Had she been +less so she would never have written an unfortunate letter—dated, +“Copenhagen, Oct. 18, 1845”—in which she entreated Mr. Bunn, “as a +favour,” not to consider her signature “as a contract,” but, “to be +generous enough to disengage” her “from an unconsidered promise.” But +she had a reason for this which, at the time, seemed to her imperative. +She never spoke of it to Mrs. Grote; but, in a subsequent conversation +with Mr. Grote, she said that she did not at that time possess £500 in +the world. Mr. Bunn taunted her with the “enormous salary” she had +“accepted at Berlin,” yet she assured Mr. Grote that, up to the moment +of her engagement at Frankfort, her earnings had been entirely absorbed +by her expenses—including, be it fully understood, the maintenance of +her parents, and her munificent gifts to Herr Josephson and others—and +that consequently she was “in absolute want of pecuniary means to fulfil +the conditions proposed.”[53] + +This, then, was the state of affairs when, in the last week of October, +1845, she took leave of her friends at Copenhagen, and returned to +Berlin to fulfil her renewed engagement at the famous Opera-House. + + + + + CHAPTER X. + THE RETURN TO BERLIN. + + +The entries in an album kept by Mdlle. Lind at Copenhagen extend to Oct. +22, 1845. On the 23rd, or 24th, she quitted Denmark and went to stay +with her friend Consul Arnemann, and his wife and family, at +Nienstädten, near Altona; and on the 28th she wrote from thence to +Madame Wichmann, the wife of the sculptor, at whose house—No. 1, in the +Hasenheger (now the Feilner) Strasse—she had been invited to spend the +coming winter at Berlin. + +The letter, written in French, and the first of a long and interesting +series from which we shall have frequent occasion to quote, ran thus:— + + “Nienstädten bei Altona, 28 Oct. 1845. + + “DEAR AND AMIABLE MADAME WICHMANN, + + “I am very grateful for the kind letter which I had the honour to + receive from you, and more enchanted still to find that you retain for + me the kindly feeling which makes me so pleased and happy. + + “I have been unwell for some time. I caught cold at Copenhagen, and + was therefore unable to go either to Hanover or to Bremen or anywhere + else. It is because of this indisposition that I am now staying with a + very good friend, Madame Arnemann, near the town of Altona, where I am + getting quite well, and resting myself. + + “But in the meantime it is necessary that I should start for Berlin, + and it is for this reason, dear Madame, that I take the liberty of + informing you that I leave this place to-morrow morning—or on the + 30th; and I expect to be in Berlin on the 31st. + + “I go from here to Zelle, and from thence I hope to reach Berlin, by + railway, in a day. To-day is Monday, and on Friday I hope to have the + pleasure of seeing you again. + + “It will be very nice to have my maid there. I only feared, Madame, on + your account, that it would not be agreeable to you to have so many + strange faces about you. I hope to find you in good health, and your + family also; and, until then, good-bye, dear, good, and kind Madame + Wichmann.”[54] + +The approaching winter season promised to be a brilliant one. Mdlle. +Lind took part in it for five months, from Nov. 9, 1845, to April 2, +1846, during which period she sang twenty-eight times, including her own +benefit. As her second engagement was, like the first, for _Gastrollen_ +only, there exists among the archives of the Opera-House no written +contract from which we might ascertain the amount of the _honorarium_ +she received. All we know is that on Saturday, Nov. 1, 1845, the +play-bills, after announcing the first performance of Mendelssohn’s +_Œdipus in Colonos_ in the theatre attached to the New Palace at +Potsdam, added, in a footnote, that application for tickets for Mdlle. +Lind’s first two operatic performances would be received on Monday, Nov. +3. On Nov. 4 the advertisement was repeated, and on the 5th appeared a +notice to the effect that no more tickets for the first two performances +remained unsold, though—as during so great a part of the former season— +the prices were raised, to all parts of the house. + +The series of _Gastrollen_ began on Nov. 9 with _Norma_, which was +repeated on the 13th; and the journals of the day criticised these +revivals with no less enthusiasm and no less minuteness in detail than +they had imported into their notices of the original performances in +1844. The Berlin journal laid great stress on the fact that the artist +had “learned nothing and forgotten nothing.” That she had passed through +the fiery trial of a long succession of triumphs without once yielding +to the temptations with which it is invariably associated, and had +returned to Berlin bringing back her own lofty ideal in all its original +purity. We will not, however, follow the critics in their prolonged +analysis of works already fully discussed, but pass on, at once, to the +_rôles_ produced this season for the first time. + +The first of these was Mozart’s _Il Don Giovanni_—the greatest by far of +his dramatic works—in which she appeared, for the first time in Berlin, +in the character of “Donna Anna,” on Nov. 19, repeating the part on the +21st and 25th. + +On the first occasion on which she undertook the part the performance +derived an additional interest from the fact that it took place on the +“name-day” of the Queen, in honour of which the Opera was mounted with +new scenery of unusual splendour. All the artists engaged did good +service to the general effect; and the “Zerlina” of Fräulein Tuczec +received high praise at the hands of the critics. The performance, +indeed, was an exceptionally fine one in every respect; and the Opera +was given five times during the season with ever-increasing interest and +raised prices of admission. + + +The next new Opera was Weber’s _Der Freischütz_. + +To give entire satisfaction to a German audience in this first and most +famous of Romantic Operas is no easy matter. The work is so thoroughly +German, so well known, so deservedly popular, and affords so many +precious opportunities for the display of vocal and histrionic talent, +that it is not to be wondered at that singers of other than German +nationality approach it, on the national stage, with a certain amount of +diffidence; nor can we feel surprised that, since the part of “Agathe” +has been so often performed by native singers of the highest excellence, +a German audience usually listens to its impersonation in a frame of +mind severely critical and not inclined to be easily satisfied. + +The Opera was first produced at the then newly-opened _Schauspielhaus_ +in Berlin, on June 18, 1821—the anniversary of the Battle of Waterloo— +which Weber looked upon as a lucky day. The first performance took place +under unheard-of difficulties. Spontini, who then held the post of +General Musical Director to King Frederick William III., was strongly +prejudiced against it. None of Weber’s previous Operas had really +succeeded; and his friends trembled for the fate of this. At the last +rehearsal, everything went wrong. Yet the work was received by the +public with an enthusiasm which bordered upon frenzy, and ever since +that eventful night it has kept its place on the German Lyric stage with +undiminished success, and year after year it is received in every German +Opera-House with a welcome as warm as that which greeted its first +presentation years ago. The Germans seem, indeed, incapable of tiring of +it; and at the Royal Opera-House in Berlin it is more frequently +performed than any other Opera, _Don Juan_ alone excepted. + +Mdlle. Lind first impersonated the part of “Agathe” at Berlin on Nov. +30, 1845; and on Dec. 2 the _Berlinische Zeitung_ contained the +following remarks on her performance:— + + “It gives us more than ordinary pleasure to record that, through the + performance of Jenny Lind, _Der Freischütz_ has received a new impulse + and a new birth. The whole organism of the work is enlivened with the + beat of a stronger pulse. The singer began her performance in a modest + tone. In the duet with ‘Aennchen’ she set before us the gentle homely + element alone. In the grand _Aria_, later on, the most heartfelt love + and the tenderest breath of maidenhood were blended together and + hallowed, both of them, with sincerest piety. The singer was not + contented with continuing her prayer so long only as it was indicated + in the music: she retained it in her soul, that it might ring forth as + a thank-offering even in the ecstasy of love that occupied her to the + last moment. No singer has ever before adhered so closely, or with + such warmth and clearness, to the religious tone with which Weber has + coloured this entire scene. That it produced an outburst of stormiest + applause, which was only with difficulty calmed down after it had long + delayed the progress of the drama, was no more than the natural effect + of so beautiful a performance. + + “In the third act the performance was still happier. In some passages + in the _Prayer_ her voice seemed to float upwards, like a cloud of + incense—a musical glamour with which no other singer has ever so + enchanted us in this composition. + + “We need scarcely say that at the close shouts and a call before the + curtain resounded on every side, though after having been so deeply + moved by truest Art such a conclusion to the performance is rarely + pleasant.” + +If ever critic struck the right note in his analysis, Herr Rellstab +struck it here. “So dear to her heart was the masterpiece _as a whole_,” +he says—and he says well. We know, from her own words, how dear it was +to her. He found it out, from the manner of her performance. He did not +know, as we do, the story of that memorable March 7, in 1838, when she +made the famous discovery recorded in one of our earlier chapters—the +discovery that she had within her the power of striking out an original +conception, of forming an ideal of her own untinged by the colouring of +other artists, of identifying herself with a being of her own creation, +of thinking its thoughts, of speaking its words, feeling its pains, its +agonies of anxiety, its pangs of cruel torture, its suspense, its hopes, +its consolations, its bursts of rapturous joy. He did not know that she +had discovered this—but he saw the results of the discovery, and with +the instinct of a true critic he traced them to their veritable source— +saw that it was not for its two great songs, but _as a whole_, that the +masterpiece was so dear to her—that she had created a real character to +illustrate the composer’s meaning in its entirety, and that in this +character she thought, and wept, and smiled, and lived, and had her +being. How could it have been otherwise? How could she, who loved all +Nature with so true a love; she to whom forest, and tree, and stream, +and mountain spoke with a voice so clear and sweetly intelligible that +she had never once in her whole life misunderstood it; she to whom the +voice of the birds was as familiar as her own; how could she have failed +to identify herself with “Agathe,” the Forest Child? If she had actually +lived in the hunting-lodge, instead of imagining that she lived there, +would not every bird and beast and butterfly, every wild creature that +haunted the surrounding forest, have made her its friend? She was +herself a Forest Child; as true a Child of Nature as ever lived. And +_Der Freischütz_ was so dear to her, _as a whole_, because it is +essentially the Opera of Nature. Strange as it may seem to say so, it is +precisely through its marvellous truth to Nature that it reaches the +supernatural. And all this ghastly conflict between the supernatural and +the natural is—or ought to be, if rightly understood—inseparable from +the part of “Agathe.” It forms the key-stone of the entire conception; +and it is only when it is fully and frankly asserted that Weber’s +delightful heroine can appear upon the stage clothed in the ideal beauty +with which he has surrounded her character. + + +And now, after having analysed in detail Mdlle. Lind’s ideal +interpretation of some of the greatest masterpieces of dramatic and +musical Art, we may be allowed to withdraw our attention for a moment +from the Stage, with its turmoil and its enchantment; the glamour of its +poetry on the one side and the disappointment of its cold illusions on +the other, its thunders of applause in front of the curtain and its +heart-burning cabals and conflicts of bitter jealousy and mercenary +self-interest behind it. We may leave, for awhile, this strange scene of +mingled reality and deception, while we turn temporarily aside for the +purpose of refreshing ourselves with some pictures of a different kind. + +We have seen many instances of the calmness with which Mdlle. Lind +accepted the enthusiastic applause which was so freely lavished upon +her. But it would be a great mistake to infer from this that she was +insensible to, or ungrateful for, the admiration she excited. The secret +of her outward calmness was that she accepted it, not for herself, but, +in the name of the Art of which she herself was the most fervid +worshipper in the crowd. + +Her own state of feeling with regard to her position in Berlin at this +particular period may be satisfactorily gathered from a letter written +by her to Madame M. Ch. Erikson, an eminent Swedish actress, with whom +she had long been on terms of intimacy, and who died, at the age of +sixty-eight, in 1862. + + “Berlin, Nov. 24, 1845. + + “MY DEAR MADAME ERIKSON, + + “It was with the wildest pleasure and rejoicing that I had the honour + of receiving your kind letter, and I cannot thank you enough for it. + + “I use no empty words when I say that my rejoicing was intense, for I + had not forgotten that it was you who first guided my sensitive young + mind towards higher aims, or that it was you who saw beneath the + surface and fancied that you had discovered something, overlooked by + others, behind those small grey insignificant eyes of mine. + + “How changed is everything now! What a position I have now attained! + All the musical talent of Europe is, so to speak, at my feet. What + great things has the Almighty vouchsafed to me! It gives me real pain + to lose the inexpressible satisfaction of submitting the progress I + have made to the judgment of one who so well understood me before + there was any one else who would even believe in my capacity to do + anything at all—and that one so rare and gifted an artist as yourself! + + “What a pity it is that we Swedes cannot get on in our own country! No + fame! nothing! nothing! + + “What a celebrity you yourself ought to have become, with that grace + of yours—that charm displayed in every movement when you are before + the curtain! What a sensation ought not that, in itself, to have + produced! for grace is scarce upon this earth. + + “In seven months only I have succeeded in making my reputation here: + and, after seven years at home, not a creature knew anything at all + about me. At this present moment all the first engagements in the + world are offered to me! After seven months! Is it not strange? + + “I have lately appeared in ‘Donna Anna’; and have every reason to be + more than satisfied with the reception that was accorded to me. The + Berlin public is terribly critical. But, this I like; for, if I take + pains, I am at least properly appreciated. They want to analyse my + every gesture—every shade of expression. Indeed, one has to be + careful; but this certainly tends to mental cultivation. + + “I am going to sing in _Der Freischütz_ and the _Die Vestalin_; for + Operas such as these win the greatest and most solid fame; though such + _rôles_ are not to be lightly approached. And, moreover, I have to + sustain no trifling comparisons; for the moment I step forward I am + measured with the Sontag-measure, or that of the greatest artists that + Germany has produced. + + “Perhaps you think that I have grown vain? No. God shield me from + that! I know what I can do. I should be very stupid if I did not. But + I know, equally well, what I cannot do. + + “I have not yet quite made up my mind whether I go to Vienna in the + spring or not. In the meantime, I wonder whether I may venture to tell + you that, next autumn, I mean to return home quite quietly, and to + settle down, caring nothing for the world. You will call this a crime. + But please to reflect, just a little, how difficult it is to stand all + this racing about—alone!—alone! with the certainty of having to rely + on my own judgment in everything, and yet so absorbed at the same in + my _rôles_. Oh! it is not easy. However, we will not talk of this just + yet. Enough to say that connection with the Stage has no attraction + for me—that my soul is yearning for rest from all these persistent + compliments and this persistent adulation. + + “And here I will finish; assuring you of my sincere affection, + + “And remain, + “Your grateful pupil, + “JENNY LIND.” + +It must be confessed that these remarks addressed to Madame Erikson +accord very well with the expressions used by Mdlle. Lind when +addressing Mrs. Grote on the same subject some two months before the +foregoing letter was written. + +But in any case, whether she then seriously contemplated an almost +immediate retirement from the Stage, or only thought of it as a +desirable and extremely probable contingency, she made the noblest use +of the pecuniary advantages she derived from it. + + + + + CHAPTER XI. + AT THE GEWANDHAUS. + + +We have spoken of Mdlle. Lind’s offer to assist Herr Josephson in his +project of carrying on his studies in Italy. + +In the month of June, 1845, he wrote, at Vienna, in his Diary:— + + “Through the care of Munthe, Jenny Lind’s _homme d’affaires_, I have + received a letter containing a cheque which guarantees my going to + Italy. And now I am looking hopefully towards the south. May it prove + of real use!” + +Mdlle. Lind did not, however, write to him herself until the beginning +of December, when she sent him the following letter:— + + “You poor boy! so far away in a strange country and for so dreadfully + long a time, without having heard a word, directly, from your friend + who is now writing to you, and who wishes you so well and has so + faithfully retained her friendship for you! + + “Dear good Jacob! I cannot understand how it is possible that I have + left you so long without a word. But I have been travelling again + nearly the whole summer, and have really not been able to write. + + “I have received your letters in due course, and hasten to answer the + last. My money matters are not just now in my own hands, and as you + need money only at the time of the new year, I write this to-day + before sending it. But it is coming soon. + + “And now I suppose I must tell you everything about myself. In the + first place, I am splendidly well. I am enjoying myself very much. I + am very glad and very grateful for the kind treatment we—that is, + Louise and I—are receiving at Professor Wichmann’s, and we find it + very enjoyable there. Furthermore, my voice has grown twice as strong + as it was—the middle register quite clear. My acting is something + quite different, with much more vivacity and passion; stout and + broad-shouldered, and quite first-rate! if my success was great last + year, it is now quite furious. I have appeared here as ‘Donna Anna,’ + and succeeded well. Yesterday also I appeared, for the first time in + Berlin, in _Der Freischütz_—and that also went well. Now guess what my + next part will be? _Die Vestalin._ After that, ‘Alice’ and + ‘Valentine.’ Tithatschek will probably be here at the new year. + Meyerbeer is still in Paris, but is expected here soon. But, Jacob, + Mendelssohn is here! I see him almost every day at the Wichmanns’. And + he is quite an exceptional man. Dear! we are going, the day after + to-morrow, to Leipzig. Now, at least, I shall sing at a Gewandhaus + Concert under his direction! + + “It is possible that I may go to Vienna next spring. True, I feel + restrained by nervousness, but the engagement is a good one. + + “Well! I am quite ready to believe that Italy must be beautiful. It + would please me well to go there next spring, but I must first earn + some money.” + +It is touching to see the great Artist longing for the beauties of +Italy, yet deferring the enjoyment of them until she could “earn some +money,” while she was really enabling the young student to whom she +wrote to prosecute his studies there with money she had previously +earned. + +It is touching, too, to see how her Artist-nature expands at the thought +of a closer acquaintance with Mendelssohn—the composer whose genius was +in closer sympathy with her own than that of any other musician then +living,—and to mark how she revelled in the thought of singing to the +accompaniment of the orchestra he conducted, well knowing beforehand the +delight she would feel in being so perfectly and so effectually +accompanied. None but a really great singer can fully understand the +delight of singing to such an accompaniment, whether played by the +orchestra or on the pianoforte, and in this case the vocalist was +certainly not disappointed. + +In a letter addressed to her guardian, Judge Munthe, on Jan. 12, 1846, +Mdlle. Lind writes:— + + “Felix Mendelssohn comes sometimes to Berlin, and I have often been in + his company. He is a _man_, and at the same time he has the most + supreme talent. Thus should it be.” + +The words are few, but weighty enough in their relation to the social +history of Art; for, taken into consideration in connection with the +expressions quoted in the preceding chapter from her letter to Herr +Josephson, they give us direct indication of a friendship which, +ripening with time, continued, with ever-increasing loyalty and warmth, +until the moment at which the composer of _Elijah_ entered into his +rest, on Nov. 4, 1847; a friendship the full value of which can be +understood by those only who enjoyed the inestimable privilege of +friendly intercourse, though in ever so humble a degree, with that truly +remarkable “_man_;” a friendship in which the world of Art itself was +interested. For it is absolutely certain that these two artistic spirits +exercised a notable influence over each other in all that concerned the +Art they worshipped; insomuch that the _Elijah_ itself owed something to +Mendelssohn’s familiarity with her ideal treatment of the voice, while +her interpretation of his loveliest melodies was undoubtedly penetrated +with the spirit he infused into the harmonies with which he accompanied +her on the pianoforte. + +Though residing at this time in Leipzig, Mendelssohn came occasionally +to Berlin, and had evidently taken such opportunities as he could of +renewing the acquaintance first formed on Oct. 21, 1844, at the house of +Professor Wichmann. He was engaged, that winter, in conducting the +famous Gewandhaus Concerts at Leipzig, which were then universally +acknowledged to be the finest in Europe. Under his all-powerful _bâton_ +they had met with unexampled success, and he eagerly seized this +opportunity of persuading his friend to assist him in his noble work. +The Intendant of the Opera-House seems to have granted the necessary +leave of absence without difficulty, and on Dec. 3—the day following the +second performance of _Der Freischütz_—the two great Artists proceeded +together to Leipzig. + +Though the dimensions of this quaint old town were greatly inferior, in +1845, to those of which it now boasts, it exercised a greater and far +more healthy influence upon the development of Music than either Berlin +or Vienna. The audience, at the Gewandhaus, though severely critical, +was prone to bursts of genuine enthusiasm; and when the good burghers +who dominated the society of the town heard of the treat that was in +store for them, their excitement knew no bounds. Though the prices of +admission were instantly raised from two-thirds of a thaler to one +thaler and a third—_i.e._ from two shillings to four—the tickets were +all sold off at once, and their lucky possessors were able to command +any price they liked to ask for them at second-hand. The “free list” was +stopped, of course, and even the students of the Conservatorium,[55] who +enjoyed prescriptive right of admission, were politely told that their +prescriptive right would not be recognised on the evening of the eighth +concert. + +This arbitrary resumption of vested privileges provoked an “indignation +meeting” at the rooms of one of the offended brotherhood, at which it +was resolved that a firm but respectful protest should be addressed to +the most active of the Directors—a gentleman of severe aspect, but not, +it was hoped, of absolutely stony heart. The difficulty was, to find a +mouse to bell the cat. A victim was, however, selected and sacrificed, +and in the course of the day he reappeared before the adjourned conclave +with a face which distinctly showed that he had been received with the +gentle courtesy usually accorded by College dons to students too keenly +alive to encroachments upon their privileges.[56] + +The rush for tickets was, in fact, so great that, had the Saal des +Gewandhauses been four times as large as it really was, it could have +been filled over and over again. Through the kindness of Herr Julius +Kistner, the well-known music publisher, the writer, maddened with the +excitement of the moment, was fortunate enough to obtain a seat in the +front row, close to the orchestra, between the places occupied by the +heroic presenter of the protest and the late Mr. Joseph Ascher, another +member of the “Indignation Committee.” The room was crowded to +suffocation and the audience breathless with suspense. + +Herr Heinrich Brockhaus, in his Diary, describes the events of the +evening in terms which exactly correspond with our own recollection of +them:— + + “1845. Leipzig, Dec. 4. Jenny Lind has fulfilled the promise she made, + in the summer, to sing at one of the subscription-concerts, to my + great enjoyment and truly heartfelt pleasure. + + “Luise[57] wrote to Fräulein Lind to offer her our hospitality, so I + am actually living under the same roof with our charming visitor. + + “The expectations of the Leipzigers—who pride themselves somewhat on + their musical taste and are sometimes a little hypercritical—were + raised very high indeed; but the first air, from _Norma_, at once won + everything for the Singer, and the enthusiasm rose higher and higher + through a duet with Miss Dolby from _Romeo and Juliet_, through a + recitative and air from _Don Juan_, and, finally, through some songs + by Mendelssohn and some Swedish national airs, to a quite + extraordinary pitch. + + “And with good reason. + + “She is a most extraordinary singer: a musical nature through and + through; in full command of the most beautiful means; and, besides + that, so penetrated and spiritualised with the singing of everything + which she renders, that a song sung by her goes straight to the heart. + + “Soul and expression, so intimately associated with so beautiful a + voice and so perfect a method, will never be met with again; the + appearance of Fräulein Lind is, therefore, truly unique. + + “And with all that, what noble and beautiful simplicity pervades her + whole being! free from all fictitious coquetry, though, all the same, + she takes delight in the effect she produces. One can only wonder, and + love her. And this affectionate appreciation of her is universal—the + same with young and old, with men and with women. And again, there is + something so thorough and consistent; a noble and beautiful nature; a + manifestation of the genius of the noblest womanhood and the highest + art. + + “Who can sing either German or Italian music as she does? Who is so + great a mistress of National Song as she? In the case of other singers + people are often influenced by a critique, and astuteness prides + itself upon the discovery of some weak point. With Fräulein Lind one + rejoices one’s self at her success, and feels with her until the + applause bursts forth.”[58] + +Instead of following up her success by giving a “benefit” on her own +account, and filling the room to suffocation, as she might easily have +done at any prices she liked to demand, she announced her intention of +singing, the next night, at the concert which she determined to give in +aid of the _Orchester-Wittwen-Fond_—an institution for the maintenance +of the widows of deceased members of the Gewandhaus Orchestra. + +Herr Heinrich Brockhaus has included a minute description of this +Concert also in his published Diary; but the account given in the +unpublished note-book of his youthful son, Edouard, is so charmingly +unaffected and natural, that we insert it in preference to the more +mature remarks of the elder gentleman. + + “On Friday, Dec. 5, the Lind was to sing at a concert for the + _Orchester-Wittwen-Fond_. Every one was delighted, but I most of all, + as I hoped that I also might get a chance of hearing her; and, + luckily, at dinner-time, mother gave me a ticket, which I kept in my + hand all the afternoon, for fear of losing it. Tickets were very rare + just then, and, though they only cost 1 Rthl., 10 Ngr., I know that + some were sold for 3 Rthl., and even 5 Rthl. The concert was to begin + at half-past six o’clock, and I was at the Gewandhaus by half-past + five; it took me, however a good quarter of an hour to get up the few + steps leading to the hall. For the steps were crammed with people, + including many ladies, and there was scarcely room to stand, much less + to turn round. So we moved slowly forwards, and thought ourselves + lucky when we mounted a single step. The hall was soon so full that + not another creature could be squeezed in, and many had to stand the + whole evening in the little room where the _buffet_ is; but, luckily, + I got a seat in the third row in the gallery, where I could see and + hear everything. + + “The Lind first sang the scena and air from _Figaro_, and I can really + find no adequate expression to apply to her singing. The power of the + voice, even in the highest notes, the feeling, when she sang + _pianissimo_, and, above all, the perfection of her execution, cannot + be described in words. The shake, and all the finer _nuances_, sounded + so perfectly natural, and she sang with such life and expression, that + she had to hold back continually, to keep herself from acting. And the + people seemed as if they would never leave off applauding. + + “In the second part she sang the well-known scene and air from _Der + Freischütz_, and here again, from every gesture, one could see that it + was as much as ever she could do to hold herself in check so as not to + act it. And the expression she gave to every word, and the swelling of + the tones and the feeling and the execution, were really + unsurpassable. + + “After Mendelssohn had played a beautiful solo on the pianoforte, in + the most masterly style, the Lind sang, last of all, three songs. The + first was Mendelssohn’s ‘Frühlingslied,’ and the two others extremely + original Swedish _Volkslieder_. Mendelssohn accompanied them on the + pianoforte, and with them the Concert came, all too soon, to an end. + + “The Lind had promised to spend the evening with us, and when we got + home we found everything made ready for her reception. As she had + begged that no company might be invited, mother had only asked Tante + Luise, with the rest of the family, and the Mendelssohns. + + “About nine o’clock our courtyard was suddenly filled with a crowd of + people, mostly students, who had come, with torches, to serenade the + Lind. When a circle had been formed, by torch-light, Weber’s _Jubilee + Overture_ was first played; then a song was sung; and afterwards they + sang and played alternately. The Lind was quite taken by surprise, and + kept on asking father what she should do and how she should thank the + people. + + “While she was peeping out of the window there came a pause, and a lot + of Concert directors, with Concertmeister David and Dr. Haertel at + their head, came into the room, and, in the name of the musicians, + presented her with a beautiful silver salver, on which were engraved + the words:— + + “‘To Fräulein Jenny Lind, from the grateful musicians.’ + + “On the salver was placed a beautiful wreath of laurel and camellias. + It was given to her by the musicians as a mark of thankfulness, + because she had sung for the institution for the benefit of the widows + of members of the orchestra. David accompanied the gift with a few + words, and the Lind was so surprised that she could only look at him + while he was speaking, and thank him with a silent gesture. + + “During all this time I got the champagne ready, and many healths were + drunk—naturally, hers first of all. Father then filled a great tankard + and brought it to her, that she might first taste it herself, and then + send it round to the gentlemen; but she would not do this—why, I + cannot imagine. She passed it on, however, to David, saying, ‘Drink to + your own health!’ + + “During the music she stood, for the most part, at the east window, in + the corner, and listened to it eagerly; but one could see that the + crowd of people was painful to her. When the students had left off + singing—there were two hundred singers, besides a multitude of others— + Mendelssohn led the Lind into the courtyard. I followed her, with + Tante Luise; and Mendelssohn said that the honourable task of + conveying to them Fräulein Lind’s thanks for this had fallen to his + lot, and that he fulfilled it with pleasure; but that, in addition, + and in his own person as ‘Leipziger Musikdirector,’ he wished long + life to Fräulein Lind.[59] + + “All joined, naturally, in shouting ‘Long life to Fräulein Lind!’ And + we then tried to get back into the house, but found it very difficult + to do so, so closely did the crowd press round, on every side, to + catch a glimpse of the Lind. + + “In going away, they sang the beautiful ‘Waldlied.’ The gentlemen who + had presented the silver _plateau_ then took their leave after the + Lind had duly thanked them, and the Mendelssohns did not stay very + much longer. + + “No sooner were the doors closed behind them than she embraced mother + and Marie, and all who were standing near her, and jumped up like a + child. The presence of so many people had worried her, and it was not + until they were gone that her joy broke forth. + + “We now sat round a table and enjoyed ourselves very much. The Lind + showed us, among other things, her bracelets, two of which were + particularly beautiful. One, in the form of a serpent, was given to + her by the late King of Sweden, and the other, which was very + splendid, by the present King of Prussia. At the top of this last was + a cover, with three real pearls as large as peas; and under this + cover, which was made to lift up, was a little cylinder-watch, the + size of a four-groschen piece. She looked with great pleasure at our + pictures and engravings, while I held the lights for her, and at about + eleven o’clock she went down to her apartments.” + +The graphic and life-like picture, thus charmingly painted by the bright +youth of sixteen, forms a fitting conclusion to our narrative of Mdlle. +Lind’s memorable visit to Leipzig. + +She might well have retired to her rooms, tired out with fatigue and +excitement, at eleven o’clock; for on the next day—Saturday, Dec. 6—she +was to return to Berlin, where she was announced to reappear, for the +fourth time, in _Don Juan_ on the following Tuesday. + + + + + CHAPTER XII. + ‘DIE VESTALIN’ AND ‘DIE HUGENOTTEN.’ + + +On Dec. 30—that is to say, a little more than three weeks after her +return from Leipzig—Mdlle. Lind appeared, for the first time at Berlin, +in a new and very arduous and important _rôle_—that of “Julia,” in +Spontini’s Opera, _Die Vestalin_—which she had previously impersonated +six times only, at Stockholm, during the whole of her long career— +probably because it was found unsuited to the Swedish popular taste. + +_Die Vestalin_ had long been a very favourite Opera, in Berlin, where it +had been placed upon the stage with extraordinary magnificence, and +entirely under the composer’s own personal direction, when he was +invited to the Prussian capital, in the character of General Music +Director, by King Friedrich Wilhelm III., in the year 1820. The part of +“Julia” had then been sustained by Madame Milder-Hauptmann, and since +then most of the great German _prime donne_ had interpreted it in their +turn. It was therefore no easy task to satisfy a Prussian audience with +a new conception of the work, and as Mdlle. Lind had intimated in her +letter to Madame Erikson, her reading of the leading part was quite sure +to be judged by the measure of all the greatest singers who had +previously appeared in it. + +The impression the performance produced upon the German critics +generally may be gathered from the notice which appeared in the +_Berlinische Zeitung_ three days after the first performance:— + + “A joy,” says Herr Rellstab, “and more than a joy—a true elevation of + the spirit has fallen to the share of the writer at the close of his + year of critical activity, in that he is able to record an artistic + achievement, among the most memorable that he himself has ever + witnessed, and one which has deeply moved, not himself alone, but also + a large and varied section of the public. + + “Jenny Lind in the part of ‘Julia.’ + + “Grand memories, rich in Art, revived themselves within us in + connection with the work and with past interpreters of the _rôle_ who + have attained the sublimest heights; but this time we will occupy + ourselves less with passing judgment than with giving a history of the + impressions produced upon us by the performance. + + “The first act was over. From first to last the singer had, through + her womanly and noble bearing, excited the closest sympathy. Her + acting and singing were everywhere noble, but not with the victorious + effect we expected from her. We therefore awaited the second act with + an almost sorrowful depression of spirit. + + “Sometimes, however—if we may be permitted to use the language of + metaphor—a battle which, whether by accident or design, may seem to + have begun unfavourably, recovers itself, to be crowned with the most + glorious and signal victory. And so it was in this case. From the very + beginning of the act certain passages breathed forth, as it were, + forecasts of the most fervid, the deepest, the grandest feelings that + could agitate a loving womanly breast. + + “The strife between greatness of soul and holiest faith in the might + of Love on the one side, and on the other the overpowering recoil of + Nature from the fear of death in a form so terrible that it might well + have crushed the shrinking nerves of the boldest man; this strife, we + say, is set before us in such sort that the soul scarcely dares to + believe what the eye sees. It paints the last extremity of horror, and + yet the limit of the beautiful is never overpassed even by a + hair’s-breadth. + + “Yet we stand here on the threshold only of the realm of wonder over + which our Artist exercises her sway. It seemed to us impossible that + such an achievement could have been surpassed. And yet the third act + supplies to our Artist a point of union with still higher dramatic + impressions. + + “Half hidden beneath the black veil, with difficulty supported by two + veiled sisters, Julia glides, like a spirit, across the stage; + advancing, with faltering step, in the funeral-procession of the + Vestals, like a shadow from the depths below. It is but a memory of + life that moves in the procession there; the horror of death holds her + already in its freezing thrall. The sound of her voice trembles in + ghostly whispers upon her lips. Over her pallid face flits, from time + to time, a faint smile of love, like a dying sunbeam—a dream of the + long-since vanished past. How can one hope to paint, in words, a + picture embodying so profound a depth of tragic expression?” + +We cannot but regard this elegant panegyric as the most just as well as +the most important expression of critical opinion that we have as yet +had occasion to transcribe from the journals of this eventful epoch in +Mdlle. Lind’s artistic career. Those who were familiar with her ideal +conceptions of the great operatic _rôles_ she interpreted, when at the +zenith of her fame, will find no difficulty in understanding Herr +Rellstab’s disappointment at the effect she produced in the first act. +It was her invariable custom to reserve her great effects, with true +artistic self-abnegation, for certain points which the unerring instinct +of her genius indicated as the fittest for the introduction of a logical +climax, and to the power and perfection of such a climax she +unhesitatingly sacrificed an indefinite number of those minor effects +upon which too many artists gifted with less creative power are only too +ready to seize for the purpose of securing a passing triumph at the +expense of the logical whole. She kept her dramatic power in reserve, +with a reticence which none but the greatest artists are ever known to +exercise, for the predetermined situations in which she felt that it +could be successfully exhibited with logical consistency and deepest +reverence for dramatic truth. And Herr Rellstab’s conversion only proves +how just was his judgment on this point with regard to Spontini’s +masterpiece. + +And now, the long course of hard work was relieved by a little holiday— +all too brief. + +We have more than once had occasion to speak of Mdlle. Lind’s intimacy +with Hans Christian Andersen, whom, in accordance with the old-world +Scandinavian usage, she was accustomed to address as her “brother.” + +Andersen spent the closing weeks of the year 1845 and the beginning of +1846 at Berlin; and, in his well-known autobiography, the talented Dane +tells an amusing little story connected with Mdlle. Lind’s performances +at the Opera at this period. + + “One morning,” he says, “as I looked out of my window, Unter den + Linden, I saw, half hidden under the trees, a man, very poorly clad, + who took a comb from his pocket, arranged his hair, smoothed his + neck-tie, and dusted his coat with his hand. (I well know the + shrinking poverty that feels oppressed by its shabby clothes.) A + moment afterwards there was a knock at my door, and the man entered. + It was the Nature-Poet, B——, who, though only a poor tailor, has the + true poetical inspiration. Rellstab and others in Berlin have + mentioned him with honour. There is something healthy in his poems, + among which some breathe a true religious spirit. He had heard that I + was in Berlin and had come to visit me. We sat side by side on the + sofa, and his conversation betokened a contentedness so amiable, a + spirit so pure and unsullied, that it truly grieved me that I was not + rich enough to do something for him. I was ashamed to offer the little + that lay in my power; but, in any case, I was anxious to put it in an + acceptable form. I asked him, therefore, whether I might venture to + invite him to hear Jenny Lind. ‘I have already heard her,’ he said, + smiling. ‘I could not afford to buy a ticket; so I went to the man who + provides the “supers” and asked him if I could not go on as a “super” + one evening in _Norma_. To this he agreed. So I was dressed up as a + Roman soldier, with a long sword at my side, and in that guise + appeared upon the stage; and I heard her better than any one else, for + I stood close beside her. Ah! how she sang! and how she acted! I could + not stand it: it made me weep. But they were furious at that. The + manager forbade it, and would never permit me to set foot upon the + stage again—for one must not weep upon the stage.’” + +Soon after this, Andersen took leave of his friends in Berlin and +proceeded to Weimar on a visit to the Hereditary Grand Duke, with whom +he was on terms of the most affectionate intimacy. And here, again, he +spent some happy days in the company of Mdlle. Lind, who had also been +invited to Weimar, and sang there on five evenings, three of which were +occupied by Court Concerts and two by performances of _Norma_ and _La +Sonnambula_ at the Court Theatre. Here, as in Berlin, her performances +produced the most profound sensation. The Grand Duke and the various +members of his Royal Highness’s family received her with demonstrations +of the warmest welcome. In company with Andersen and his friends, the +Chancellor Müller, the Court Chamberlain Beaulieu, and the Court +Secretary Schöll, she visited some of the most interesting places in the +neighbourhood, and more especially those consecrated by memories of +Goethe and Schiller. + +On Jan. 27—two days after her last performance at Court—the Chancellor +Müller escorted her, in company with Andersen, to the Fürstengruft—the +burial-vault in the Neue Kirch-hof, beyond the Frauenthor, in which, for +many generations past, the remains of the departed Grand Dukes of +Saxe-Weimar-Eisenach and their families have been laid to rest—and there +showed to the little party of friends the coffins in which Goethe and +Schiller now sleep their last long sleep. The dimly-lighted +burial-place, and the solemn associations connected with it, made a deep +impression upon the friends; and amidst its ghostly shadows the Austrian +poet, Hermann Rollet, who accidentally met the little party in the +vault, wrote a poem, which Andersen has printed in his autobiography, +and the original MS. of which was carefully preserved by Mdlle. Lind +among her mementos of the past. + +The visit to the funeral-vault affected Mdlle. Lind very deeply; and she +was evidently glad to relieve the sad impression by more cheerful +thoughts. In a letter to Madame Birch-Pfeiffer, she wrote:— + + “Weimar, Jan. 27, 1846. + + “I have just come out of the vault in which Goethe and Schiller lie + entombed, and my whole heart is impressed and excited. + + “On Friday afternoon I am going to Leipzig, where I have been most + kindly invited to the Mendelssohns, for the evening, and on Saturday I + return to Berlin.” + +The memory of this pleasant holiday—for it really was a holiday, though +not a time of idleness—was very dear to her. Soon after her return to +Berlin she wrote thus to her friend Hans C. Andersen:— + + “Berlin, Feb. 19, 1846. + + “MY DEAR GOOD BROTHER! + + “Thanks for our last meeting. I did so enjoy it! Do you agree with me + that we have scarcely ever before spent a more charming pleasant time + together? + + “I thank you, ever so much, for your beautiful letter. I had a good + cry over reading it. + + “Yes, yes! Germany is a glorious country. I certainly do not long for + any other except the very best—the last one. + + “Oh! how I have wept over your story about the Grand Duchess and her + little sweep! How lovely it is! + + “In the meantime I am perfectly enchanted with her—and with the young + Grand Duke and his wife also. Dear Andersen, when you write to our + high-born friend, tell him—if you mention me—that, as long as I live, + I shall remember those few days I spent in Weimar. I can + conscientiously say that I have nowhere else, as yet, found such peace + of mind and true joy; and yet I have been treated everywhere in the + most friendly way. I love these high-born personages; and, just as you + say, Brother, not for the stars and the diamonds they wear, but for + their true and loyal hearts. I get quite enthusiastic when I think of + these two people. May God preserve them and theirs! + + “My friends, the Arnemanns, from Altona, have been here. They left + yesterday. I wonder when we two shall meet again? + + “I have now quite decided upon going to Vienna. Are you not going + there, Andersen? I suppose you go on to Italy direct? + + “Do you know, Andersen, I appreciate your friend Beaulieu very highly + indeed. I have really begun to feel a great friendship for him. Give + him my kindest regards when you write. + + “And now, _adieu_! I must start for the theatre presently, to sing in + _Das Feldlager in Schlesien_. God be with you! Do not forget your + sister. I shall remain here until the end of March. After that, + letters will find me at Vienna, from the middle of April until the + middle of May. Write, either _Poste restante_, or care of Herr + Pokorny—the manager of the theatre. + + “May the blessing of God go with you! then you will have enough! + + “I remain, + “Your true sister, + “JENNY.” + +She was by this time once more hard at work in the dizzy whirl of the +Berlin winter season. She had reappeared, after her return from Weimar, +on Feb. 3, in several of her most popular parts; but in the meantime her +promised appearance in a new and very important _rôle_ was anxiously +awaited by the art-loving public—that of “Valentine,” in Meyerbeer’s +Opera, _Les Huguenots_—or, as it was called in German, _Die Hugenotten_. + +To the uninitiated, it may seem strange that, taking into consideration +Meyerbeer’s all-powerful position and great popularity in Berlin at this +period, _Das Feldlager in Schlesien_ should have been the only one of +his Operas put upon the Stage. But the position will not be thought at +all strange by those who know how severely punctilious Meyerbeer was, +not only with regard to the principal parts, but with all that concerned +the perfection of every minutest detail of his works. It was not enough +for him that the _prima donna_ should be an artist of unapproachable +excellence. If all the other parts, great and small, were not +represented to his entire satisfaction he would not allow the piece to +be put upon the Stage at all. + +Now, the demands upon the _personnel_ of the staff in _Les Huguenots_ +are very heavy. The part of “Queen Marguerite of Navarre” is not written +for a _seconda donna_, but a second _prima donna_—a _Soprano leggiero_, +as opposed to the _Soprano dramatico_ of “Valentine.” That of “Urbain,” +the page, needs a Mezzo-soprano of high capability. The Tenor—“Raoul de +Nangis,” and the Basso and Baritono—“Marcel” and “Saint Bris”—need +representatives of the highest rank. And in face of these demands we can +scarcely wonder that a man so hard to satisfy as Meyerbeer was not too +ready to place his second great masterpiece upon the Stage. + +It must be supposed, however, that he was satisfied at last, for on Feb. +26, _Die Hugenotten_ was announced for representation, with Mdlle. Lind, +as we have said, in the part of “Valentine”; and the performance was +thus criticised in the journal from which we have so frequently and so +freely quoted:— + + “Our great Artist-visitor, Jenny Lind, has evolved from the character + of ‘Valentine,’ in _Die Hugenotten_—a part as rich in dramatic and + musical expression—a dramatic creation which, in noble individuality, + occupies quite as high a position in the domain of Lyric Tragedy—as + the earlier _rôles_ in which the artist enchained us with such + irresistible power. + + “Before the time of Jenny Lind, the grandest reading of the part was + decidedly that of Wilhelmina Schrœder-Devrient. She threw more + brilliant lights upon it and invested certain passages with a more + satisfactory colouring; as, for instance, at the well-known words, + ‘_Ich bin ein Mädchen das ihn liebt_,’ &c. And yet the shrinking + breath with which our artist lightly veiled this expression cast a + more delicate fragrance over the deep inward glow, and imparted to it + a charm wholly its own. + + “But, as was only to be expected of an artist so rich in creative + power, Jenny Lind also struck out for herself an altogether original + conception of the impersonation, impressed it in the most marked + manner upon the character, and filled us with astonishment at the rich + variety of her resources. Her third act was a touching prayer to her + bitter fate; her fourth, a mighty battle waged against it; her fifth, + a splendid victory over it. She sang the last scene under truest + inspiration of faith. + + “We have always found that the artist penetrates more and more deeply + into the heart of her task at every repetition, and fulfils it with + greater ease; we may therefore in this, as in other cases, look + forward to even increased perfection. Yet we may almost ask, ‘What + need of more?’ in presence of this noblest wealth of treasures.” + +To sober-minded English readers the style of Herr Rellstab’s critiques +may seem exaggerated. It must be admitted that their tone differs +materially from that adopted in England at the present day; but they are +of great value to us, as records of a form of criticism now—in this +country, at least—quite obsolete. Moreover, in so far as our present +purpose is concerned, they distinctly reflect the feeling with which +Mdlle. Lind’s performances were listened to, at the time they were +written, by the crowded audiences who flocked, night after night, to the +Royal Opera-House to hear her. The performer concerning whom it was +simply possible to write in a strain so exalted can have belonged to no +common order in the Hierarchy of Art. And enough is known of the +character of Herr Rellstab, and of his position in Berlin, to establish +the certainty that he honestly meant every word he wrote. + + + + + CHAPTER XIII. + AUF WIEDERSEHEN! + + +The first performance of _Les Huguenots_ took place on Thursday, Feb. +26, the second on Sunday, March 1. A third, announced for Friday, March +6, was prevented by a most unfortunate accident; Mdlle. Lind sprained +her foot on the Thursday so seriously that for three weeks she was +confined to the sofa. + +The kindest sympathy was shown to the sufferer after this painful +misadventure; and Mendelssohn, who had been informed of the accident, +endeavoured, on March 18, to cheer her loneliness with a long and +delightful letter, half grave, half gay, in which the serious and the +playful were intermingled with an easy grace in which few adepts in the +art of letter-writing have ever been able to rival him. + +We print this hitherto unpublished letter, in the belief that it cannot +fail to prove generally interesting to the reader. + + “Leipzig, March 18, 1846. + + “MY DEAR FRÄULEIN, + + “The account that Taubert brought of the state of your health was not + so encouraging as I could have wished;[60] but as I used to like, on + days such as these, to sit down to the piano, and play to you, so now— + since, unhappily, I cannot come to you in person—I come, at least in + writing, and fancy to myself that I ask, in the entrance hall, whether + I can speak with you, and am told—‘yes’; and Mademoiselle Louise opens + the door for me, and I see in your hand one of the ten thousand + pictures and engravings with which you are now surrounded, and then I + sit down beside you and begin like this:— + + “Shall I tell you about Marie?[61] + + “She talks to me, all day long, about Fräulein Lind, and how she was + so kind to her; and when I went to the children, yesterday, in the + nursery, and found little fat Paul[62] practising his writing on a + sheet of paper, I saw that he had written ‘dear Fräulein Lind’ over + the whole page at least ten times. To-day he has finished a whole + letter, and he made me promise that I would send it to you—I was + absolutely obliged to promise it. Marie wanted to send her letter + first, but I explained that one letter would be enough, and she was + satisfied with signing it. Karl said he could not sign it as it was + not his own letter. + + “A funny thing happened to us this evening. Cécile[63] said: ‘It is a + long time since we have had any Swedish bread; what a pity it is!’ I + said, ‘I will write to-day, and ask for some in your name.’ Marie + said, ‘But Paul has already written to Fräulein Lind to-day.’ I asked + to see the letter—the beautiful scrawl I enclose—and, as Paul came in + at one door, with his letter, the servant brought in your present of + Swedish bread at the other. + + “The children think of you daily and hourly, and their parents also. + We long very much indeed to hear soon that you are better, and once + more free from all the weariness that such a long imprisonment brings + with it. May you soon send us, please God! an account of your complete + cure. + + “To-day we had a very pleasant rehearsal. Taubert conducted his + symphony and made friends of the whole orchestra. To us, who are + artists, must certainly be conceded one very delightful prerogative, + in return for which we are willing to give up all other prerogatives + whatever: viz. that in one short half-hour a host of strangers can be + transformed into a host of good friends. That is a capital state of + things, and many would like it, though it is given but to few. To my + great joy, it was given very decidedly indeed to Taubert to-day; and + when he adds to this his playing of the Beethoven Concerto to-morrow, + he may build upon the Leipzig Musicians on both sides. + + “That which is called ‘the Public’ is exactly the same here as + elsewhere and everywhere; the simple ‘Public,’ assembled together for + an instant, so fluctuating, so full of curiosity, so devoid of taste, + so dependent upon the judgment of the musician—the so-called + connoisseur. But against this we must set the great ‘Public,’ + assembling together year after year, wiser and more just than + connoisseur and musician, and judging so truly! and feeling so + delicately! + + “A grand new vocal composition by Gade was also rehearsed, with full + chorus, for performance next week. I hope it will turn out both + poetical and beautiful. The text is from Ossian; and Fingal, with his + warriors, and harps, and horns, and spirits, plays an important part + in it. But Taubert will tell you all this much better by word of + mouth. + + “We also sang to-day, ‘Come cow, come calf,’[64] in such sort that it + was worthy to have been described as a noble work of Art! Taubert + sings better than I; but I pronounce Swedish better than he! + + “You ask how things go with me. + + “On the days when I was so quiet in my room, writing music without + interruption, and only going out from time to time for a walk in the + fresh air, they went very well indeed with me—or, at least, I thought + so. But, since the day before yesterday, when I had more to do with + the concert affairs and all sorts of correspondence connected with + them, and things of that kind, to which I could only give half my + attention because my own work lay so much nearer to my heart—since + then I have been a prey to such fatal excitement, and felt so + miserably out of spirits, that, while every one says, ‘How well you + look,’ _you_ would rather say, ‘What is the matter with you?’ + + “Happily, however, this is the last week, for this year, during which + I shall be concerned with these things; and then I mean to work very + hard, and after that I shall rejoice in the Rhine and the spring-time. + + “Yes; I rejoice in the thought of the Rhine and the Musical Festival, + and the real true spring—for, for many days past, I have been fearing + that the winter would come back again, and that the spring would break + off altogether, as in my old song in your book. And farther on, I, + like yourself, rejoice very much indeed in thinking of the time when I + shall be able to put aside the duty of conducting music and promoting + Institutions, and quit this so-called ‘sphere of activity,’ and have + no other ‘sphere of activity’ to think of than a quire of blank + music-paper, and no need to conduct anything that I do not care for, + and when I shall be altogether independent and free. It will, indeed, + be a few years before this can take place, but I hope _not more than + that_; and in this we are very much alike. I believe, in good truth, + that this is because we both have the love of Art so deeply implanted + in our souls. + + “But, I am fancying that I have been sitting by your side quite long + enough, and must now take my leave; or else that it is _Norma_ + to-night, and that it has already chimed half-past three—in short, I + must say good-bye. + + “I hope I may soon hear that you are able to walk, run, stand, jump, + dance, play at billiards, sing at Ries’s Concert, and play the parts + of ‘Proserpina’ and ‘Valentine,’ and that you have become free of all + farther enquiries. + + “Your friend, + “FELIX MENDELSSOHN BARTHOLDY.”[65] + +Cheered by pleasant correspondence such as this, and still more pleasant +intercourse with the choice circle of sympathetic friends who enjoyed +the privilege of _entrée_ to the charmed _salon_ in the Hasenheger +Strasse, the three long weeks of dreary imprisonment passed more lightly +than would otherwise have been expected. And they were enlivened too, +from time to time, by another source of interest no less welcome and +agreeable. Professor Wichmann seized upon this excellent opportunity for +securing the “sittings” necessary for the modelling of a beautiful +medallion-portrait of her in profile, designed upon a circular plaque +fourteen inches in diameter, and eventually executed in white marble. It +is a charming work of Art, regarded, by all who have seen it, as a +valuable historical memorial. + +When modelling this beautiful profile the Professor did not know that +his guest was herself preparing a welcome surprise for the family in +anticipation of his idea. + +Wishing to present her host and hostess with a grateful memorial of the +happy time she had spent beneath their roof, she had commissioned +Professor Magnus to paint her portrait, on a large scale, in order that +she might present it to them before leaving Berlin. Professor Magnus had +accepted the commission, and made some progress with the work, when the +“sittings” were interrupted by the accidental sprain, which for a time +rendered the needful visits to his studio impossible. As soon as these +could be resumed, he proceeded with his work, and in process of time +produced a portrait not only valuable as a striking likeness of the +sitter, but precious also as a work of Art which may be fairly accepted +as a happy example of the best school of portrait-painting then existing +in Germany. That Professor Magnus himself regarded it in that light is +proved by the fact that, after it had been presented to Madame Wichmann, +and treasured for fifteen years as a precious family possession, he +consented, at the request of Mr. Goldschmidt, to execute an exact +_replica_, forming so perfect a reproduction of the picture, that the +Professor himself found it necessary to attach a certain mark to it, in +order that he might be able to distinguish the copy from the original. +By his desire, and that of the Prussian Government, this _replica_ was +exhibited, in 1862, in the Prussian Court of the Universal Exhibition at +South Kensington, as the acknowledged representative of this artist’s +style at his best period—and it fulfilled this intention perfectly and +to the satisfaction of all concerned. + +The original picture remained in the Wichmann family until the year +1877, when the Professor’s eldest son, Herr Herrmann Wichmann, to whom +it had passed by inheritance after his mother’s death in the previous +year, consented to its removal, at the price of twelve thousand thalers, +to the Berlin National Gallery, where, having now become national +property, it is treasured as a valuable artistic and historical +monument. The sprain was healed, however, before the picture was +finished. + + +The public were perhaps more impatient at the duration of the +imprisonment than the prisoner herself. But it came to an end at last; +and, after a term of enforced captivity lasting for twenty-four days, +Mdlle. Lind reappeared on March 29 in _Norma_, before an audience who +welcomed her return to the Stage with every demonstration of +uncontrollable enthusiasm—an index of public opinion which might indeed, +by this time, have been expected as a matter of course every time she +appeared. + +After this performance—the twenty-sixth in which she had taken part +during the then current season—she appeared once more in _Das Feldlager +in Schlesien_ on March 31; and on Thursday, April 2—her own +“benefit-night”—took leave of Berlin for the season. + +The house, we need scarcely say, was crowded to the roof, and the +performance in the highest degree satisfactory. Herr Rellstab thus +feelingly describes the moment of the final parting:— + + “The call before the curtain, which had already been anticipated at + the end of the preceding acts, was renewed at the close of the + performance, and with such increasing warmth as we have never before + witnessed in our lives. The entire mass of the audience took part in + the offering of applause: the profusion of flowers seemed + inexhaustible. + + “A burning wish seemed to inspire the multitude—that for one farewell + word. Mdlle. Lind who, from a sense of shyness, combined with the + unaccustomed tones of the language, had always hitherto expressed her + thanks by dumb yet telling motions, yielded at last to this + well-understood though unspoken wish—(for how could it be spoken + amidst such a storm of applause!), and uttered, with deepest inward + emotion, the simple and almost inarticulate words, ‘_Ich danke Ihnen— + ich werde das in meinem ganzen Leben nicht vergessen!_’[66] + + “And again the call was shouted by thousands of voices, and yet once + again she had no choice to respond to it; and then, at last, the + audience was satisfied.” + +And thus was the second winter season at Berlin brought to an end, with +mutual regret and warmest good wishes on either side. + + + + + BOOK V. + PROGRESS. + + + + + CHAPTER I. + THE DÉBUT AT VIENNA. + + +The engagement at Vienna, vaguely alluded to in the letter to Madame +Erikson, and more decidedly in that to Herr Josephson, was now finally +arranged, and on the eve of fulfilment. The terms of this contract—five +hundred gulden[67] each, for five performances, with an extra benefit +night—had been carefully discussed, and gladly accepted, by Herr Franz +Pokorny, the then manager of the Theater an der Wien, during the latter +part of Mdlle. Lind’s stay at Berlin; and, as soon as she could +conveniently do so, after the exciting scene at the Royal Opera-House on +the evening of her benefit, she took leave of her kind host and hostess, +and started, with her companion, Mdlle. Louise Johansson, for Vienna, +_viâ_ Leipzig, in which last-named town she had been invited to spend a +few days, as the guest of Herr Heinrich Brockhaus, and had also decided +upon giving a concert, at the Gewandhaus, on her own account. + +On April 8, 1846, Herr Brockhaus wrote in his Diary:— + + “At home, I found all well, and in high good humour with an amiable + visitor—Fräulein Lind—who, early this morning, fulfilled a + long-standing promise to stay with us. + + “I was heartily pleased to see, once more, the amiable and unaffected + girl, whose natural simplicity is so beautifully united to the + greatness of the Artist. She was sociable and cheerful throughout the + evening, which was still farther enlivened by the presence of + Mendelssohn.” + +In a farther entry, on April 9, Herr Brockhaus continues:— + + “Unhappily, Fräulein Lind can stay no longer with us, as she has met + with her friend from Hamburg, with whom she had made an appointment. + + “We lunched with her, at Mendelssohn’s, where I also met Dr. Emanuel + Geibel, whom I had previously seen in Berlin. One must like the girl + from the very bottom of one’s heart. She has such a noble and + beautiful nature. And yet, she does not feel happy. I am convinced + that she would gladly exchange all her triumphs for simple homely + happiness. She sees that, in Mendelssohn’s house, where the wife and + children make his happiness complete.” + +The “friend from Hamburg,” by whose arrival Herr Brockhaus’s +arrangements were thus unfortunately interrupted, was Madame Arnemann. +Mdlle. Lind had stayed in this lady’s house at Nienstädten, near Altona, +in the autumn of 1845; and had promised to travel with her as far as +Carlsbad, on her way to Vienna. She had now come to Leipzig, for the +purpose of putting her long-cherished design into execution; and the +visit to the Brockhaus family was necessarily shortened, in conformity +with the earlier arrangement. + +But this change of plan did not prevent the welcome visitor from +thoroughly enjoying her brief stay in Leipzig, or from happy intercourse +with her most valued friends there. Among other incidents connected with +this memorable visit, the domestic happiness of Mendelssohn, whose +devotion to his wife and family were no less remarkable than his +artistic talent, made a deep impression upon her. She had been equally +impressed, at Berlin, by the charming pictures of home life daily +presented to her in the family circle at Professor Wichmann’s. Of such a +life her own early experience had taught her nothing. As a child, at +home, she had never been truly understood; and, in consequence of this, +had suffered cruelly from want of sympathy and domestic happiness. Who +can wonder, then, at the emotion she felt, when witnessing, in other +families, the peaceful effect of social relations to which her own +childhood had been an utter stranger? She alludes to this, in touching +terms, in a letter, written about this time, to Madame Wichmann:— + + “Leipzig, April (8?), 1846. + + “DEARLY BELOVED AMALIA, + + “God bless you all, and give you, some day, tenfold the good that you + have given me! For, Amalia, I have felt, for the first time in my + life, as if I had tasted the blessedness of home. My heart now clings + to you so that nothing else can satisfy me. + + “I am staying with the Brockhauses, and they are all so kind and + friendly.” + +In the meanwhile, the necessary arrangements for the forthcoming concert +had been satisfactorily completed, under the superintendence of +Mendelssohn himself. The performance was fixed for Sunday, April 12; +and, as there was to be no orchestra, Mendelssohn had undertaken to +“preside at the pianoforte,” as well as to play at least one solo. His +friend, Herr Ferdinand David, had also promised to contribute a solo on +the violin; and, when these details had been finally decided upon, the +complete programme was issued to the public. + +No sooner did the announcement make its appearance in the _Leipziger +Tageblatt_, than the usual rush for tickets began, with a vigorous +onslaught which exhausted the supply in the course of a few hours. The +most ardent music-lovers in the town lost not a moment in their +endeavours to secure the best places. It soon became evident that, had +the room been even much larger than it really was, it could easily have +been filled, over and over again. And it cannot be said that the +excitement was extravagant or unnatural; for it would be difficult to +recall to memory a concert, within the experience of the oldest musical +critic now living, in which three such artists united their forces for +the production of so attractive a programme—an entertainment in which +there was not one single weak point, one single piece falling short of +the highest level that Art, in the department of “chamber music,” could +reach. + +Madame Clara Schumann (_née_ Wieck), who was then residing in Dresden, +came to Leipzig in the course of the afternoon, with the intention of +taking a seat among the audience. On arriving at the railway-station, +after her four hours’ journey, she drove at once to Mendelssohn’s house, +for the purpose of paying him a visit. She found him a little anxious +about his share in the duties of the evening, which was exceedingly +onerous, since, beside his own solos, he had accepted the responsibility +of accompanying every piece in the programme. Thus circumstanced, he +begged Madame Schumann to add to the interest of the performance by +taking part in it herself. She was tired with her journey; quite +unprepared to play, and not even provided with a suitable toilette for +the evening; but she unhesitatingly consented; and Mendelssohn well knew +that she would prove more than equal to the occasion, when the moment +for the fulfilment of her promise arrived. + +Long before the appointed time, the room was crowded, to its remotest +corner. The _bénéficiaire_ sang—as she always did, when supported by +Mendelssohn’s matchless accompaniment—her very best. Mendelssohn played +Beethoven’s ‘Sonata in C♯︎ minor,’ as no one but he could play it; and, +when the point in the programme was reached, at which he was expected to +play some of his own ‘_Lieder ohne Worte_,’ he came down to the place in +which Madame Schumann was seated among the audience, and led her, in her +travelling dress, to the piano. She was received with an ovation; and +played two of the ‘_Lieder ohne Worte_’—Nos. I. and IV. in the Sixth +Book—and a “scherzo” of her own, with an effect which could scarcely +have been surpassed. The performance concluded, in accordance with the +previous announcement, with a selection of songs, by Mdlle. Lind, +accompanied by Mendelssohn, in his own inimitable manner; and the crowd +departed in raptures. + +The audience little thought that the concert which had given it such +unclouded pleasure was fated to be the last but one at which Mendelssohn +would play, in public, at the Gewandhaus; or that the concluding +symphony of Mdlle. Lind’s last song would represent (with one exception) +his last touch upon the pianoforte, in the concert-room which, through +his influence, had become so justly celebrated.[68] + +But we must not anticipate the day of sadness. No one foresaw it, then; +and, though the audience at the Gewandhaus was so soon to bid its last +farewell to the beloved composer who had so long represented its heart +and soul, Mdlle. Lind enjoyed the privilege of his friendship for a full +year and a half after this eventful evening.[69] + +On the 13th of April—the day after the Concert—Mdlle. Lind left Leipzig, +in accordance with the arrangement previously made with Madame Arnemann, +and proceeded, first, to Carlsbad, where she remained until the 16th. +She then took leave of her friend, and, accompanied by Mdlle. Louise +Johansson, continued her journey to Prague; remained there for one +night; and started, the next morning, for Vienna, where she arrived on +Saturday, April 18. + +In the meantime, accommodation had been prepared for her, at the house +of Dr. Vivanot, a physician of some repute, who occupied a +conveniently-situated residence in one of the principal streets of +Vienna—Am Graben. + +The place was a convenient one, in every respect; and here she remained +_en pension_, until the termination of her engagement for the season, +perfectly satisfied with the arrangements made for her personal comfort; +but she knew no one in Vienna, and, except for the _prestige_ of her +artistic reputation, had no claim whatever upon the goodwill of the +people among whom she had come to reside. Her friends in the North of +Germany felt this strongly; and did their best to overcome the +difficulty. Madame Birch-Pfeiffer wrote a letter to a friend in Vienna, +which gives so true a delineation of her young friend’s character that +we need no apology for introducing it _in extenso_:— + + “On Sunday,” she says, “our Angel fled from us: and to-day only have I + brought myself to introduce her to you by this letter. + + “Jenny Lind, indeed, needs no introduction to a lady so truly artistic + as yourself; and I only venture to give you a few slight indications + of her northern proclivities, which your own fine tact would easily + have discovered without them. + + “She is reserved, and self-contained; pure, through and through, and + sensitive to the last degree; so strangely tender, that she is easily + wounded, and thereupon becomes silent, and serious, when no reason for + it is apparent—and I have long studied this marvellous character, and + penetrated its profoundest depths. + + “A word will often quickly shut her up in herself; and I tell you + this, in order that you may see how you stand with her. When she + suddenly becomes dumb to you, you may be certain that something has + wounded her delicate sensibility. She is a true _Mimosa_, that closes + itself at the lightest touch. Do not think, from this, that she is + intolerable. She is, by nature, a truly lovable creature. True, in + everything that she does. Do not suffer yourself to be misled, by her + persistent silence, into thinking that she is _sans ésprit_. She + speaks little, and thinks deeply. She is full of perception, and the + finest tact—a mixture of devotion, and energy, such as you have + probably never before met with. + + “Free, herself, from the slightest trace of coquetry, she regards all + coquetry with horror. In short, she stands alone, of her kind, from + head to foot. + + “I adjure you, tell all your _coterie_ that Jenny must be brilliantly + received; otherwise, she will never forgive me for having persuaded + her to perform in so large a theatre, for she fears that her voice + will not fill it. She stands alone in modesty, as in everything else. + + “If you invite her to your house, and she does not sing, when first + you ask her, let it pass. Do not suffer any one to press her; + otherwise, it is possible that she may not come again. This has often + happened with her, here. She is passionately fond of dancing; and + cares but very little for the table. Nothing is more hateful to her + than sitting long at dinner. + + “Here you have a little confidential description of her person. It is + well that you should be forewarned; for, every genius has its own + peculiarities. + + “If you wish to make her really happy, invite her companion, Louise + Johansson, to accompany her to your parties. She is an excellent girl, + and Jenny looks upon her as a sister. + + “Since she has left me, I have felt as if in my grave. I can listen to + no singing now. You will soon understand why.” + +No one who really knew Mdlle. Lind will fail to recognise the fidelity +of this charming portrait; so conscientiously describing, in every +well-weighed word, the minutest traits of a character which needed so +liberal a share of philosophical discernment for its successful +analysis. That it helped to prepare the way for the cordial reception +that awaited Mdlle. Lind in Vienna we cannot doubt; and, in order that +nothing might be left undone which could conduce to that most desirable +end, Mendelssohn, on his part, foreseeing that she might possibly need +the assistance of an experienced adviser, should any unfortunate +misunderstanding occur in her dealings with the strangers by whom she +was surrounded, endeavoured to meet the difficulty by providing her, +when she left Leipzig, with the following letter to his friend, Herr +Franz Hauser:[70]— + + “Leipzig, April 12, 1846. + + “DEAR FRIEND, + + “These lines will reach you, through my friend, Jenny Lind; and I beg + you, as soon as you receive them, to call upon her, and to be as + friendly and as useful to her as you possibly can during the time of + her residence in Vienna. For, I take it for granted that it will be + with you, as with me; and that you will never be able to look upon her + as a stranger, but as one of ourselves—a member of that invisible + Church,[71] concerning which you write to me sometimes. She pulls at + the same rope with all of us who are really in earnest about that; + thinks about it; strives for it; and, if all goes well with her in the + world, it is as pleasant to me as if it went well with me; for it + helps me, and all of us, so well on our road. And to you, as a singer, + it must be especially delightful to meet, at last, with the union of + such splendid talents, with such profound study, and such heartfelt + enthusiasm. But I will say no more. I only ask you to be friendly, and + helpful to her, whenever and wherever you can; and to let her depend + upon you; and, when she sings for the first time, write to me, on the + same day, and tell me how it all went off; for it is from you that I + particularly wish to hear about it. + + “For ever and ever yours, + “FELIX MENDELSSOHN BARTHOLDY.”[72] + +By a strange fatality Herr Hauser’s kind offices were needed before +Mdlle. Lind had even made her first appearance on the stage. + +The Theater an der Wien, at which she was engaged to sing for Herr Franz +Pokorny, at the time of which we are now treating, was the largest and +handsomest Opera-House in Vienna. So large did it seem to the timid +_débutante_—still timid, and distrustful as ever of her own powers, in +spite of her triumphs at Berlin—that, when she entered it for the first +time, in order to take her part in the rehearsal of _Norma_, she was +appalled at the sight of its vast circumference; felt convinced that her +voice would prove insufficient to fill it; and, under the influence of +an utterly causeless terror, refused even to make the attempt. + +Herr Pokorny was in despair. He could not understand the lady’s fears; +nor could she comprehend his remonstrances. Fortunately, he remembered +having seen her in company with Herr Hauser, to whom he sent a hurried +message, entreating him to come to the rescue, without the loss of a +moment. By great good fortune, the messenger found Herr Hauser at home. +He instantly responded to the appeal; and reached the theatre while +Mdlle. Lind was still standing on the stage, in an agony of nervousness +and indecision. As it was impossible to discuss the question, in +presence of the assembled artists, he led her to the “green-room,” where +he set the case so clearly before her, made her so plainly see that her +fears would be misunderstood, and her position as an artist ruined, that +the Viennese would treat the matter as a joke, and hold Herr Pokorny +responsible for having befooled them—spoke, in short, so sensibly and so +earnestly, that, with a great effort, she overcame her terror, returned +to the stage, where Herr Pokorny was anxiously awaiting her decision, +and at once took her part in the rehearsal, with every prospect of a +successful _début_ on the following evening. + +How right Herr Hauser was in his judgment she never forgot; nor did Herr +Pokorny ever forget the kindness of his intervention. During the whole +remaining portion of the season, he reserved a box for Herr Hauser at +every performance, even when the prices were at their highest, and +applicants sent away, in crowds, for want of room. And this was no small +thing; for never, within the memory of the Viennese, had such crowds +assembled at the theatre, or such prices been demanded for admission. + +The paralysing fear with regard to the size of the house proved, we need +scarcely say, entirely illusory. Mdlle. Lind’s voice was sonorous enough +to have filled the largest theatre in Europe; and the “Theater an der +Wien,” spacious as it was, was far from being that. The scene, on the +evening of the _début_—Wednesday, April 22, 1846—was simply a _replica_ +of that which had taken place, in Berlin, on Nov. 9 in the previous +year. The same Opera—_Norma_—was wisely chosen as the work best +calculated to produce a favourable effect upon the general public; and +the result proved all that could possibly be desired, notwithstanding +the patent fact that a very unfair share of responsibility was thrown +upon the _débutante_. For, except by Herr Staudigl, the representative +of Oroveso, who was a host in himself, and Demoiselle Henriette Treffz, +who sang the part of “Adalgisa „ very charmingly, she was by no means +worthily supported. Concerning the tenor, who took the part of “Pollio”— +called “Sever,” in the German version—the _Wiener Musik-Zeitung_ could +find nothing better to say, than that “he sang no worse than usual.” The +chorus sang, not only without expression, but incorrectly; and the +orchestra fulfilled its functions very inefficiently indeed. At any +other time, such faults as these would have been very heavily visited +indeed upon the management of an Opera-House of such high repute as the +Theater an der Wien; but, in presence of Mdlle. Lind, all collateral +shortcomings were not only forgiven, but forgotten—if even noticed at +all; and the success of the performance could scarcely have been +exceeded. Herr August Schmidt, the editor of the _Wiener Allgemeine +Musik-Zeitung_—a journal by no means enthusiastically devoted to Mdlle. +Lind’s interests—after saying, in one part of his paper— + + “For the initiated in music—those who listen, not with the ear only, + but with the soul, and the spirit—the appearance of Jenny Lind is an + event altogether exceptional; such as has never before been witnessed, + and will probably never be repeated,” + +sums up his critique of _Norma_, with the words:— + + “The appearance of Fräulein Lind is of the deepest significance, in + all its aspects; and her achievements in Art deserve, in the highest + degree, the universal acknowledgment that they have received. She is + the perfect picture of noblest womanhood; and has, through her + artistic aims, and the high perfection of her artistic cultivation, + united to her great and many-sided talents, already won the sympathy + of the entire public, on her first appearance, in a way in which few + other singers have won it before her. I count the moments that passed + at her _début_ among the most enjoyable artistic pleasures that I have + ever yet experienced; and eagerly look forward to her forthcoming + performances.” + +For her second appearance, on Friday, April 24, Mdlle. Lind again +selected _Norma_, the reception of which was, if possible, still more +enthusiastic than that with which it had been greeted on the evening of +the _début_. The Viennese were delighted with the new reading of the +part, so full of passion and true womanly feeling, and so powerfully +dramatic in all its varied shades of expression. Even the recollections +of former triumphs—such as those of Mesdames Pasta, and Fodor, and +Malibran—were cited by old and experienced critics as telling rather in +her favour than otherwise. + +It is true, there was a strong party against her. Three rival _prime +donne_—Mesdames Stœckel-Heinefetter, and Hasselt-Barth, and Fräulein +Anna Zerr—though bitterly jealous of each other’s triumphs at the +“Kärntnerthor Theater,” united their forces, in opposition to the rising +star, and formed what a certain section of the Press called a Kärntner +clique, for the purpose of preventing her from singing in Vienna. + +But Mdlle. Lind triumphed over everything. In spite of these influences, +she created a profound impression, on Wednesday, April 29, in Bellini’s +_La Sonnambula_, by her inimitable union of the purest vocal method, +with acting so touching, that the coldest heart could not witness it +unmoved. It was this alone that could explain the secret charm to which +none who heard her in the part of “Amina” ever failed to yield. The +Viennese understood it at once; and sympathised with it, as unreservedly +as they had sympathised with, and thoroughly comprehended, the new +reading of “Norma.” No sooner had they heard and seen, than they rose, +one and all, to a pitch of enthusiasm in no degree inferior to that +which had been manifested, night after night, at the Royal Opera-House +in Berlin. She herself was more than satisfied with the reception she +met with; and, on the day after her first appearance in _Norma_, wrote +the following account of it to Madame Birch-Pfeiffer:— + + “Wien, 23 April, 1846. + + “DEAR FRIEND, + + “It is over, at last—THANK GOD! and I hasten, good Mother, to describe + it to you, though I know that the kind-hearted Director, Pokorny, has + written all about it to you to-day. + + “Well, then! Yesterday was the all-important day on which I appeared + here in _Norma_; and the good God did not desert me, though I deserved + it, for my unreasonable nervousness. + + “Do not be angry with me, I beg you! I can do nothing with regard to + that, and I myself suffer enough for it. The three days beforehand + were dreadful. The idea of turning back was ever in my mind; and I + should have done it, if it would not have given offence to so many + people. + + “But now, we shall be jolly here, for a little while, and sing nine + times; and then we can go on still farther! + + “But, this Public! At the close, I was called back sixteen times, and + twelve or fourteen before that. Just count that up! And this + reception! I was quite astounded! + + “The _salle_ is considerably smaller than that in Berlin—Ah! but I + shall always love my Berlin theatre, and my Berliners, immensely; they + have grown into my heart! Neither the Viennese, nor any others, can + weaken this impression. + + “How are you all? A raging headache prevents me from writing more. I + have not yet been calmed down since yesterday.—Your truly loving + + “JENNY.” + +It is evident that this description of the excitement of the Viennese, +and the countless calls before the curtain, is not written in sportive +exaggeration; for, on the same day, Mdlle. Lind wrote a similar account +of the circumstances to Mendelssohn, from whom, a few days later, she +received the following reply:— + + “Leipzig, May 7, 1846. + + “MY DEAR FRÄULEIN, + + “You are indeed a good, and excellent, and very kind Fräulein Lind. + That is what I wanted to say to you (and I have said it often enough, + in thought) after receiving your first letter from Vienna, written so + soon after your opening performance. + + “That you wrote to me on the very next day; that you knew there was no + one to whom it would give greater pleasure than to myself; and, that + you found time for it, and let nothing hinder you, or hold you back— + all this was too good and kind of you! + + “Your description of the first evening, and of the twenty-five times + you were called before the curtain, &c., &c., reminded me of an old + letter written to me by my sister, when I was in London, a long time + ago: and I looked for the old letter until I found it. + + “It was the first time that I had left the shelter of the parental + roof, or had produced anything in public; and it had gone well, and a + stone had been lifted from my heart; and I had written an account of + it all to her. And, thereupon, she answered me thus:— + + “There was nothing new to her, she said, in all that, for she had + known it all, quite certainly, beforehand; she could not, therefore, + very clearly explain to herself why, in spite of this, it had been so + very pleasant to her to hear it all confirmed—but it was very + pleasant, nevertheless. + + “It was precisely so with me, when I received your letter. And then, + you write so well! In fact, when I get a letter like that from you, it + is just exactly as if I saw you, or heard you speak. I can see the + expression of your face, at every word that stands written before me; + and I understand all that took place on the first _Norma_ evening at + Vienna, almost as well as if I had been there. + + “There came also a very pretty description from Hauser; a happier + letter than I ever before received from him. And in this way you give + me so much, and such great pleasure, even in a secondary form, through + the soul of my friends. + + “But, tell me, now; how comes it that half the Berlin Opera is so + suddenly in Vienna, the Kapellmeister included? Hauser wrote to tell + me that your Viennese associates in _Norma_ were by no means + excellent; so, Bötticher and the others could, after all, give the + Viennese something worth hearing—if only Taubert beat time to it! + + “I really feel, however, more pleasure in the enthusiasm of the + Viennese, and the twenty-five calls before the curtain, than these few + lines will perhaps express to you. It is great fun for me, too—not + because of what people call triumph, or success, or anything of that + kind, but, because of the succession of pleasant days and evenings + that it expresses, and the numbers of delighted and friendly faces + with which you are surrounded. You must tell me all about this, very + particularly; or rather, I must worm it out of you. + + “You are, undoubtedly, quite right in what you say about Vienna, in + your second letter. Where, then, is there more than a little nucleus + that feels anything sincerely, or honestly rejoices about _anything at + all_? + + “How pleased I am that you like Hauser! He is one who has crept very + much into my heart; and for whom I could, at no time, or for any + reason, feel diminished affection. And, how much good has he not done + to me! + + “And now, let me send you a thousand thanks for what you have written + to me about _Antigone_. Yes; I should like to do that over again. But, + out of this, I must weave the material for a new letter, and a + consultation with Madame Birch-Pfeiffer—not, indeed, about _Antigone_ + itself, but about something else of the same kind. + + “But, my paper has come to an end. We are all well, here, and think of + you every day. I shall write once more, before long, to Vienna; and + then, please God, we shall see each other again, on the Rhine, and + make a little music together, and talk to each other a little, and I + think I shall enjoy myself a little over it! _Au revoir._ + + “Your friend, + “FELIX MENDELSSOHN BARTHOLDY.”[73] + +The allusion to Madame Birch-Pfeiffer, in the above letter, is connected +with an episode of some importance in Mendelssohn’s Art-life, concerning +the details of which the public has never been very fully informed. + +It will be remembered that it was under the superintendence of this lady +that Mdlle. Lind resumed those studies in the German language which had +been interrupted, at Dresden, by her recall to Stockholm, for the +Coronation of King Oscar I. While prosecuting this course of study, she +had met with frequent opportunities of observing, and appreciating at +their true value, Madame Birch-Pfeiffer’s literary talent and thorough +acquaintance with what is known, in dramatic circles, as “the business +of the stage.” And this experience led to negotiations, which, though +they afterwards broke down completely, seemed, at the time, to promise +very important results indeed. + +During their conversations, Mdlle. Lind and Mendelssohn had frequently +discussed the possibility of a union of forces, which, had it not been +interrupted by his early death, would probably have exerted a marked +effect upon the future of the Musical Drama. The scheme was, the +production of a serious Opera, for which he should compose the music, +with special reference to the character and scope of Mdlle. Lind’s vocal +and dramatic talent. The one great difficulty with which the project was +threatened, was that of procuring a really good _libretto_ suitable for +the purpose. On this point, Mendelssohn was well known to be severely +_exigeant_. But both he and Mdlle. Lind thought that they had found, in +Madame Birch-Pfeiffer, a colleague on whom they could thoroughly depend; +and, as we shall see, from the following letter—written a week later +than that just quoted—Mendelssohn was already in active correspondence +with the lady upon this engrossing topic; and, while his friend was +gathering new laurels in Vienna, was endeavouring to open a still wider +field for the exercise of her talents in the future. + + “Leipzig, May 15, 1846. + + “MY DEAR FRÄULEIN, + + “If I am not mistaken, my last letter to you must have seemed very + stupid—with absolutely nothing in it. Moreover, I fear it will not be + very different with the present one; and that the two together will + mean no more than just a hearty greeting. + + “You must have been suffering severely from home-sickness! I can see + that, plainly enough, from your last letter; and Hauser also wrote + something to me about it. But, I hope this has long since passed away; + and, that you are again fresh and cheerful, and make music, and + gladden the hearts of the people by means of the many noble gifts with + which God has endowed you, and which you yourself have now made your + own. + + “Will you not, then, sing ‘Donna Anna’ at Vienna? I have long been + looking for news of it; but it has never come. + + “How happy you have again made my dear good Hauser! Such a delightful + letter came from him, after you had been to his house for the second + time. And, about this, I am always thinking—what if, of all the true + joy that you shed around you, the brightest rays could fall back upon + yourself, and could as thoroughly warm and quicken you as you warm and + quicken others! But this is not to be. And, when we meet again, I will + show you a passage from Goethe, in which it stands written why it is + not to be. Yet, how I wish it could be! + + “You must know, my dear Fräulein, that I have now again good hope of + coming to a satisfactory arrangement with Madame Birch-Pfeiffer. We + have lately exchanged several letters; and, as it seems to me, she has + had a very lucky find, and, out of it, will work up a subject that + speaks to me strongly, and unites in itself a great deal of that which + you like so much in _Antigone_. And yet it is not archaic. However, I + will not write to you about it, but describe it, _vivâ voce_, when we + meet again. We have quite given up the subject of the _Peasant War_; + and I have no other wish than, (1) that the whole idea may please you; + (2) that Madame Birch-Pfeiffer may put it together dramatically and + truthfully; and, (3) that I may write really good music for it. Apart + from these little matters, all is in order. + + “I write these stupid letters, because, for the last fortnight, I have + been kept at home by a very bad cold; and, still more, because I have + been working very hard, and without intermission. To-morrow, or the + day after to-morrow, the first part of my Oratorio[74] will be quite + finished; and many pieces out of the second part are already finished + also. This has given me immense pleasure during these last weeks. + Sometimes, in my room, I have jumped up to the ceiling, when it seemed + to promise so very well. (Indeed, I shall be but too glad if it turns + out only half as good as it now appears to me.) But I am getting a + little confused, through writing down, during the last few weeks, the + immense number of notes that I previously had in my head, and working + them backwards and forwards upon the paper into a piece, though not + quite in the proper order, one after another. Would that the Opera + were already as far advanced as this! I would then play some of it to + you. But, what if it should not please you at all!—Sometimes it seems + to me as if it were an imperative duty to compose an Opera for you, + and to try how much I could accomplish in it—and it is, in fact, a + duty. However, it does not altogether depend upon me, and it will + certainly not be my fault, if only the thing be possible. If it were + but possible! _Au revoir._ + + “Ever your friend, + “FELIX MENDELSSOHN BARTHOLDY.”[75] + +It is evident, from passages in this letter, that the difficulties in +the way of obtaining a satisfactory _libretto_ for the projected Opera +were very grave indeed. In fact, it is impossible to read the +correspondence which passed, at this time, between Mendelssohn and +Madame Birch-Pfeiffer, without arriving at the conclusion that the case +was all but hopeless. Mendelssohn’s ideal was too high to be easily +satisfied. Moreover, the search for a suitable subject was wearying in +the extreme, both to the composer and the librettist; and, though it is +clear that Madame Birch-Pfeiffer worked at it as hard and as +enthusiastically as Mendelssohn himself, the results were far from +satisfactory. She seems to have been strongly in favour of the story of +_Genofeva_, as told by Tieck, and, in a different form, by Hebbel; and +of this, on May 19, 1846, she furnished Mendelssohn with a complete +_scenario_, filled with situations of powerful dramatic character, and +elaborated with infinite care, guided by the experience of a practised +dramatic authoress. This was, beyond all doubt, the subject which, in +his letters of May 7 and 15, 1846, Mendelssohn compared with _Antigone_, +though, unlike that, it was “not archaic.” But it was so far from +satisfying him, that even while these negotiations were pending, he +resumed the previously rejected story of the _Bauernkrieg_—the “Peasant +War” of history—in consultation with his friend Edward Devrient, and the +legend of _Loreley_, in conjunction with that gentleman and Dr. Geibel. + +All this worried Mdlle. Lind, no less than Mendelssohn. It was evident +that she was far less happy in Vienna than she had been at Berlin; +though she could not close her eyes to the fact that her visit to the +Kaiserstadt had been successful, beyond the wildest expectations of her +most sanguine admirers. + +The following passage, from a letter written to Madame Wichmann nine +days after her arrival in Vienna, describes her then frame of mind with +epigrammatic force:— + + “Hitherto, all has gone here splendidly. I have appeared twice in + _Norma_; and was called so many times before the curtain that I was + quite exhausted. Bah! I do not like it. Everything should be done in + moderation; otherwise it is not pleasing.” + +And again, yet nine days later, she writes:— + + “Vienna, May 6, 1846. + + “ÄLSKADE, + + “I think of you, daily, and hourly; and it goes badly with me, since I + parted from you, my beloved friends. + + “I have been so home-sick, that I scarcely knew whether I should live + or die; and so frightfully melancholy, and sad, that it is a long long + time since I have felt anything like it. Do you understand me? I never + felt this anguish while I was with you. + + “But, I am better, now; and the day before yesterday, Taubert came. + Ah! This joyful surprise!—this reminiscence of the past existence!—all + now comes so brightly before me! + + “And, now, I must tell you a little about the theatre, and things of + that sort. + + “Dearest, dearest lady! + + “Do you know, I have been placed in the very worst, and the most + unfavourable circumstances; and yet, I never had a greater triumph! + Just think of this! + + “To begin with; Herr Pokorny actually had the rashness to demand such + frightful prices, that a single reserved seat cost eight gulden, and a + box forty! So that, since the time of Catalani, such a thing has never + been heard of; and the public were furious about it. + + “Secondly; with these high prices, Pokorny engaged, for the first ten + performances, a tenor, at whom everyone laughed. Everything depended + upon me; so I was made the sacrifice. And all this I had to bear, and + do penance for. + + “In the third place; the whole Italian faction was opposed to me; and + was determined to hiss, if there was the slightest thing that could be + found fault with. Nevertheless, everything has gone well; and my + success is only so much the greater. + + “Taubert is sitting with me, now, and playing to me; and I persuade + myself that I am with you, and live in quietness and peace, and am + assured that you all know with what deep and true love I cling to you, + and how impossible it would be for me ever to love you less.” + +Though it contains no allusion to the circumstance, this letter is +proved, by its date, to have been written exactly a week after the first +performance of _La Sonnambula_. This was followed, on May 8, by _Der +Freischütz_—an immense success; and, on the 15th, by _Die Ghibellinen in +Pisa_, a German version of Meyerbeer’s _Les Huguenots_, the music of +which had been tortured into pretended association with a new and wholly +incongruous _libretto_, the failure of which was a real gain to the +cause of true Art. Mdlle. Lind never sang in it again, and the blame of +its cold reception was certainly not visited upon her; for, on May 20— +the night fixed for her benefit—she received an ovation, accompanied by +circumstances, which, even among the brilliant triumphs to which she was +now so well accustomed, can only be described as altogether exceptional. + +On this occasion _La Sonnambula_ was again chosen, as the Opera most +likely to please the public, who had been delighted with it, on its +first presentation, and flocked, in crowds, to hear it a second time. +Every available seat in the house was filled with the _élite_ of the +Austrian capital. The noblest representatives of Art and Literature, the +highest of the nobility, and the various members of the Imperial family, +assembled, _en masse_, to do honour to the occasion. Each act of the +Opera, each scene in which the _bénéficiaire_ took part, was received +with acclamation; and when the curtain fell, after the last _Finale_, +and she was recalled before it, to receive the grateful acknowledgments +of the audience for the pleasure she had given them, while flowers were +falling in showers upon the stage, the Empress-Mother dropped a wreath, +with her own hand, at Mdlle. Lind’s feet. + +Such a favour, involving so bold a departure from the severity of Court +etiquette, had never before been granted, by a member of the Imperial +family, to any artist of any rank whatever, though Vienna had not been +slow to acknowledge the claims of true genius, or to crown it with +well-earned laurels. + +As at Berlin, the audience seemed bent upon obtaining a spoken word of +farewell; and, when silence had been obtained, Mdlle. Lind came forward, +to the foot-lights, and said, in German: “Sie haben mich recht +verstanden. Ich danke Ihnen aus meinem Herzen.”[76] These few heartfelt +words were received with a shout of sympathetic recognition; and it was +only when that had subsided, that the audience, quite overcome with +excitement, consented at last to disperse. + +And, this was not all. + +When, after the performance was over, the heroine of the evening +prepared to return to her temporary home, _Am Graben_, a band of +enthusiastic young men unharnessed the horses, and would have dragged +the vehicle, with its occupant, through the crowded streets, to the door +of Dr. Vivanot’s house, had they not been prevented from doing so by a +detachment of cavalry. Fortunately, the military force arrived in time +to prevent a serious disturbance; but, even with this protection, the +carriage was escorted to the Graben by a crowd of excited spectators, +who insisted upon walking by its side; and, when Mdlle. Lind reached her +hand out of the lowered window, those who were near enough rushed up, in +the hope of respectfully kissing it. + +Unhappily, the excitement produced a very serious accident. The +man-servant, Görgel, either fell, or was accidentally dragged from his +place behind the carriage, while the enthusiasm was at its highest, and +so severely crushed, that he was unfit to travel for some considerable +time, in consequence of which the departure from Vienna was seriously +delayed, at a time when the hindrance proved of the greatest possible +inconvenience. + +Mdlle. Lind mentions the circumstance, in a letter addressed to Madame +Birch-Pfeiffer:— + + “Wien, 23 May, 1846. + + “DEAR GOOD FRIEND, + + “I really do not know whether I am dead, or alive—so you must just ask + the Director, Pokorny, who will, no doubt, tell you all about it. + + “It is four o’clock on Saturday morning. Two hours ago, I came from + Herr Pokorny; and, think of my horror! my poor Görgel has been almost + crushed to death! He was brought home in a frightful condition; and it + does not look at all well with him. I have already postponed my + journey four hours later. God grant that it may not turn out to be + anything dangerous. + + “Except for this, I have spent delightful days here. I have never met + with such kind people as the Viennese in general. I can find no words + in which to describe my stay in Vienna. Enough! Thank Heaven for + helping me so much! Yet I have had much to fight against, here. Some + day, I will tell you all about it.” + +The style of this letter sufficiently shows the haste and excitement +amidst which it was despatched; but no surrounding circumstances, +however trying, could make the writer forget her affection for those +whom she loved. + + + + + CHAPTER II. + THE LOWER RHINE MUSICAL FESTIVAL. + + +Herr Hauser had not forgotten Mendelssohn’s wish to be kept _au courant_ +with regard to the events which took place at the _Theater an der Wien_. +He had written more than one account of the various occurrences we have +described; and, on the morning after the “benefit,” he wrote again, +giving his friend a brief general description of the events of the +evening. To the first and second of these letters Mendelssohn sent the +following reply, containing much that will interest the reader:— + + “Leipzig, 11th May, 1846. + + “MY DEAR FRIEND, + + “I well knew how pleased you would be with Jenny Lind—I never for a + moment doubted it; and I was pleased indeed to find, from your letter, + that I had not been mistaken, and that you had been so truly refreshed + and encouraged by an artistic nature so splendid and so thoroughly + genuine. + + “Tell her that no day passes on which I do not rejoice anew that we + are both living at the same epoch, and have learned to know each + other, and are friends, and that her voice sounds so joyous, and that + she is exactly what she is, and, with that, give her my heartiest + greetings. + + “And accept my best thanks for your two good letters. I should, + indeed, have thanked you long ago, had not my time been so wholly + absorbed by music that writing was impossible, for I sit, over both my + ears, in my _Elijah_, and if it only turns out half as good as I often + think it will, I shall be glad indeed! The first part will be quite + finished within the next few days, and a goodly portion of the second + part also. I like nothing more than to spend the whole day in writing + the notes down, and I often come so late to dinner that the children + come to my room to fetch me, and drag me out by main force. + + “But, really, I must come some day to Vienna. I hear so much said + about it, right and left, and you all say such kind things about my + music, and give me such extraordinary accounts of your performances, + that you make my mouth water. Perhaps I may bring my _Elijah_, while + it is quite new, about the winter-time—for, naturally, it cannot be + given at Aix-la-Chapelle, since it is barely half finished; or, + perhaps I may wait until I have found a subject for my Opera, and + composed the music—if Jenny Lind is still there—and this last would be + the best. But, in some way or other, I hope to see our Imperial City: + and I shall not then make my first visit to the tower of S. Stephen’s, + or to the Sperl, but to the Bärenmühle. But perhaps you no longer live + there, in which case I shall come wherever you do live. + + “But it is getting late, and I must leave off. Do you know whether + Jenny Lind is going to sing the part of ‘Donna Anna’ in Vienna? I + should like you to hear it. If she does not sing it, ask her to sing + the last or the first _aria_ to you in your room; and, when you greet + her, from me, tell her that I will write to her this week, but she + must forgive me if my letter is stupid, for, just now, I cannot do + anything better. + + “Let me soon hear from you again. What happened at the second + performance of _Antigone_? And how are your sons, and your wife? Greet + them all many times, and continue kind to + + “Thine, + “FELIX.”[77] + +Herr Hauser’s letter of May 21—the day after the benefit—was, in some +sort, an answer to this. He renews the invitation to Vienna, though +complaining that he is not living so comfortably as in his former house +in the Bärenmühle. He says that he duly reported to Mdlle. Lind +Mendelssohn’s thankfulness that they were both born in the same epoch, +and he himself hopes that they will all long continue to give thanks to +God for so artistic a nature—and not without grave reason, for there are +some still living who thank God heartily that they were, to a certain +extent, contemporary with Mendelssohn. + +Mdlle. Lind sang, with her usual success, at Herr Taubert’s _matinée_ in +Streicher’s Konzert-Salon on May 10, contributing to the programme two +of Taubert’s songs, and a northern melody; and, on the 21st, she sang, +for the last time that season, at a grand orchestral concert, given for +an institution for the support of little children at the _Theater an der +Wien_, under the patronage of His Imperial Highness the Archduke Franz +Carl. + +And thus ended the first short season in Vienna. It had been, for all +concerned, a tentative one, for no one could predicate, until trial had +been made, the temper in which the Viennese might feel inclined to +accept it. But the experiment had proved eminently successful, and there +could be no possible doubt on the mind of any one as to the result of a +similar enterprise undertaken during the ensuing winter. If the Viennese +critics had seemed somewhat more cautious in their expressions than +those of Berlin, the public had certainly been very much less so in +their actions. + + +And, now, the scene of the long succession of triumphs was changed. + +As early as the month of January, 1846, the committee of the “Lower +Rhine Musical Festival” entered into negotiations with Mdlle. Lind in +the hope of obtaining her assistance at the twenty-eighth meeting of the +Association, which was appointed to take place, that year, on May 31, +and June 1 and 2, at Aix-la-Chapelle. + +The Association was, and still is, one of the most important in Europe, +and one of the oldest also. First suggested in 1811, and regularly +organised in 1818, it had, since that year, given an annual festival at +Whitsuntide, either at Cologne, Düsseldorf, or Aix-la-Chapelle, each +town taking upon itself the responsibility of arrangement, in its +regular turn. Up to the year 1833 two concerts had been given annually, +on Whitsunday and Whitmonday; but Mendelssohn, who that year had been +for the first time appointed conductor, proposed an additional concert +on the Tuesday morning; and, as the programme was on that day +miscellaneous, it was called “The Artists’ Concert,” under which title +it has ever since been annually repeated. The festival was held that +year at Düsseldorf. Mendelssohn again conducted, in 1835, at Cologne; +and in 1836 he produced his _Saint Paul_, at the eighteenth festival at +Düsseldorf. Since then he had conducted three times; and now he was +engaged again for 1846. + +Many hindrances had arisen, and many changes been made with regard to +the arrangements, chiefly in consequence of the difficulty of engaging +an efficient company of artists to support Mdlle. Lind; for, unlike Herr +Pokorny, the committee had determined that she should not be asked to +sing with vocalists of inferior merit. But all was satisfactorily +arranged before she left Berlin in April, and the programmes for the two +first days finally decided upon. + +The first grand rehearsal was fixed for Wednesday, May 27, and it had +been arranged that Mdlle. Lind should leave Vienna on the 23rd, meet +Mendelssohn at Frankfort on the evening of the 26th, and proceed with +him down the Rhine to Aix-la-Chapelle on the 27th. But when the hour +fixed for the departure from Vienna arrived, it was found that the +injured man-servant was quite unfit to travel. + +Always thinking of others, before caring for herself, Mdlle. Lind +consulted with the doctors, and found that they demanded twelve hours +longer in order that the sufferer might be comfortably bandaged and +prepared, in so far as was possible under such circumstances, for the +fatigues of the journey. To this delay she consented, in preference to +leaving him friendless in Vienna. It was a great risk, and involved a +terrible increase of fatigue for her at a time when she needed all her +physical powers, as well as those of the mind, in preparation for the +responsibilities devolving upon her at the festival. But she did not +hesitate; though, in consequence of the lateness of the hour at which +she was obliged to start, it was nearly midnight on Tuesday, May 26, +before she arrived at Frankfort, where Mendelssohn had been awaiting her +all the afternoon at the well-known hotel _Der Weisse Schwan_, in an +agony of anxiety and suspense. + +It was, indeed, a desperate venture. If, through any accidental +hindrance, either of them had failed to appear at the rehearsal on +Thursday the 28th, the success of the entire festival would have been +endangered. But all fear of that was now at an end; and, leaving Görgel +the wounded man-servant under careful medical attendance in Frankfort, +the two friends, accompanied by Mdlle. Louise Johansson, started down +the Rhine, on Wednesday the 27th, by the steamboat, and in due time +reached Aix-la-Chapelle, where Mdlle. Lind, in accordance with the +previous arrangement, became the guest of the Marquis and Marquise de +Sassenay, and Mendelssohn occupied an apartment provided for him by the +committee at the principal hotel—the _Grand Monarque_. + +The festival was declared by all present to have been the best that had +taken place within the memory of the public. The two principal songs in +Haydn’s oratorio, _On Mighty Pens_ and _With Verdure Clad_, and the solo +and chorus, _The Marvellous Work_, were calculated to display Mdlle. +Lind’s powers, whether of voice, method, or poetical conception, to the +greatest possible advantage—indeed, they became great favourites +everywhere in later years. And yet it was undoubtedly in the third part +of the oratorio that her ideal conception of the work reached its +culminating point, for she threw the whole poetry of her womanly nature +into the part of Eve, and emphasised its importance in a way which +attracted the attention of every deep thinker among the audience. There +can be no doubt that her interpretation of it coincided with Haydn’s, in +every particular. Both saw that the whole interest of the work must of +necessity concentrate itself upon the point at which the purpose of the +Almighty Creator is consummated—the creation of man. And it was in +closest sympathy with this conception that Haydn composed, and his +careful interpreter sang, the music assigned to “the mother of us all.” +Can we believe that their joint ideal was a false one? + +Mdlle. Lind’s part in _Alexander’s Feast_ was also a very important one, +demanding the combined powers of _virtuosa_ and poetess. But her +greatest success, perhaps, was achieved on the Tuesday morning, at the +“Artists’ Concert,” in Mendelssohn’s _Auf Flügeln des Gesanges_ and +_Frühlingslied_, in which, say the critics of the period, “she produced +an effect wholly unparalleled, insomuch that the meeting of 1846 was +afterwards known as the “_Jenny-Lind-Fest_.”” + +Many dear friends, both of the conductor and the singer, assembled that +year at Aix-la-Chapelle to do honour to the occasion; and it was +altogether a very happy time, as some letters, fortunately preserved, +sufficiently prove. + +It will interest the reader to glance at three descriptions of the same +pleasant Whitsuntide holiday, drawn from three different points of view— +like P. de Champaigne’s threefold portrait of the great Cardinal de +Richelieu in the National Gallery—less gorgeously toned, indeed, and by +no means so grandly modelled; but certainly not less true to nature, +though only in playful miniature. + +Among the sympathetic friends who flocked to Aix-la-Chapelle, and +certainly not among the least welcome of these, were Professor Geijer of +Upsala and his wife, who had not breathed a word to any one of their +intention to come. Their presence in the town was a surprise indeed; and +Madame Geijer thus describes the meeting, in a letter forwarded to us by +her son-in-law Count Hamilton, the Lord-Lieutenant of the province of +Upland. + + “Aachen, Whitsunday, 1816. + + “Geijer was informed that ‘Fräulein’ Lind and Dr. Mendelssohn were at + home, so he went to Madame la Marquise de Sassenay’s, where Jenny Lind + was staying during her visit to Aachen. + + “Jenny, however, was at rehearsal, so he went to the theatre and + enquired for her there. + + “Soon afterwards Jenny came out, and could hardly believe her eyes. + She did not know whether she was dreaming, whether she was in Germany + or Sweden! + + “She put her hands to her forehead, and was ready to cry. Later on, + she followed Geijer to the hotel at which we were staying. She was + joyous, excited, and exceedingly interesting and animated. She asked + with warmth and emotion after friends and acquaintances at home, and + more particularly after the Lindblads. Geijer told her that Lindblad + was engaged on an Opera. ‘Well,’ she cried, ‘and who is to sing it?’ + Geijer answered, ‘You had better say who.’ ‘Yes,’ she said, ‘I may + help him to bring out an Opera, both at home, and here in Germany; + there is no doubt about that.’ + + “She spoke of the great success she had had in Vienna, and told him + how, after her last appearance, an attempt had been made to draw her + carriage, in consequence of which her man-servant had been severely + injured, so much so that she had been obliged to leave him behind. + + “Jenny promised to get tickets for us for the concert, adding ‘I shall + tell them that I will not sing, if they do not give me tickets for + you.’ She also promised that she would arrange for Mendelssohn to play + to us; and, since the world now turns round according to her wishes + and commands, one may feel quite safe when she has pronounced her + _fiat_ in one’s favour. + + “In the evening we were present at the rehearsal of the _Creation_, + and we then heard the good news that Mendelssohn had declared his + willingness to play to us, and that he would have a piano sent to our + rooms for that purpose. + + “So, in the evening, Jenny and Mendelssohn came to us. Jenny sang some + _Lieder_, and I need neither describe nor praise them. Geijer was + quite beside himself with delight and pleasure. + + “Mendelssohn thought Agnes and Jenny so like each other that they + might be taken for sisters.” + +Five days after his departure from Aix-la-Chapelle Mendelssohn, who was +then in Düsseldorf, sent the following account of the Festival to his +friend Franz Hauser, at Vienna:— + + “Düsseldorf, June 8, 1848. + + “You wish me to tell you about the musical festival at Aachen. Well, + it was very good, very splendid, towering above all the others, and + chiefly owing to Jenny Lind; for, as to the orchestra, I have heard it + perhaps better on some other occasions, and the chorus, though + splendid, has been equally so at previous festivals. But they were all + so uplifted, so animated, so artistically moved by Lind’s singing and + manner, that the whole thing became a delight, a general success, and + worked together as it never did before. + + “I had the clearest evidence of this at the last rehearsal, when I had + begged of her, for once, not to be the first and most punctual in + attendance, but to take some rest and come in towards the end of the + rehearsal. To this she agreed, and it was quite a misery to notice how + feebly things went—so devoid of swing that even I became listless, + like all the others, until, thank God! Jenny Lind appeared, when the + needful interest and good humour came back to us, and things moved on + again. + + “There were, of course, wreaths, and poems, and fanfares, again and + again, and the audience was seized with that excitement which + manifests itself wherever she goes. The manner of its manifestation is + of no consequence. + + “After the festival, we went together a little way on the Rhine; spent + a very pleasant day at Cologne, Bonn, up the Drachenfels, at + Königswinter, and back (to Cologne), and on the following day she left + for Hanover, and I for this place, where I took part yesterday in a + concert which also would have been a fine one if Jenny Lind had been + there. + + “To-morrow I leave for Liège, in order to hear the _Lauda Sion_, which + I have composed for the festival of _Corpus Christi_ there.” + +Finally, Mdlle. Lind recorded her own impressions of this Whitsuntide +holiday—for earnest work in the cause of Art is really a holiday to +earnest artists, however hard it may be—in the following letter to Herr +Rudolph Wichmann, the Professor’s second son:— + + “Aachen, June 2, 1846. + + “MY DEAR RUDOLPH, + + “My pleasure in Aachen will soon come to an end, for all will be over + to-day, and early to-morrow we leave. But I believe Mendelssohn means + to accompany us a little way, and we hope to see the view from the + Drachenfels, which will be very nice. + + “How well everything went with me in Vienna! only my man-servant was + very nearly crushed to death, owing to the enthusiasm, so that I had + to leave him behind in Frankfort, and he has only just now rejoined + me. + + “Farewell, my dear boy. Greetings from + + “THY SISTER.” + +It had been a happy time for all; but for Mendelssohn, with _Elijah_ not +yet finished, though on the eve of production, and some hard days’ work +still waiting for accomplishment in Düsseldorf, Cologne, and Liège, the +fatigue was dangerously heavy, and the amount of excitement with which +it was accompanied more disproportioned still to the then condition of +his mental and physical powers, which sorely needed the rest he was +nevermore able to accord to them. + +But when did Prudence ever come to the front, to calm the suicidal +eagerness of Genius? + + + + + CHAPTER III. + THE CONTRACT WITH MR. LUMLEY. + + +The view from the Drachenfels answered all the bright expectations that +had been formed of it; and, after supplementing it with an afternoon at +Königswinter, and a pleasant day at Cologne, Mdlle. Lind proceeded to +Hanover, where she was engaged for four performances at the Court +Theatre, and a concert. The success, on each occasion, was that to which +all concerned had so long been accustomed, that it was now looked for as +a matter of course. But, of far greater importance than any amount of +local enthusiasm was the fact, that, during this visit to Hanover, +Mdlle. Lind was brought into immediate relations with the then Crown +Prince and Princess—afterwards King George V. and Queen Marie—who, +amidst the heavy trials destined afterwards to fall upon them, never +forgot the friendship with which they then learned to regard her; a +friendship which remained undiminished until the day of her death, and +which, even since then, has been most touchingly alluded to by Her +Majesty, Queen Marie. + +After fulfilling this engagement, and singing once at a concert at +Bremen, Mdlle. Lind proceeded to Hamburg, where she was engaged for a +series of twelve “Guest-performances” at the Stadt Theatre, supplemented +by a benefit in aid of the “Theatrical Orchestra Pension Fund,” another +for herself, and a concert for the poor. + +During this visit, she did not reside in Hamburg itself, having accepted +an invitation to the house of her friend, Consul Arnemann, at +Nienstädten, near the neighbouring township of Altona. Here she spent +many pleasant weeks with her host and hostess and their family, who had +invited another friend—Mdlle. Mina Fundin—to keep her company, and had +also sent a pressing invitation to Mendelssohn, in the hope that he +would be able to take Nienstädten on his way to England, whither he was +bound, in August, for the purpose of producing his _Elijah_ at the +Birmingham Festival. This project, however, failed entirely. Though +Mendelssohn would have been pleased indeed to have availed himself of so +pleasant an opportunity for refreshing himself with a brief rest, before +his heavy work began, it was quite impossible for him to do so. He was +working beyond his strength, as he himself well knew; and let the +consequences be what they might, there was no help for it. + +During her second season at Hamburg, Mdlle. Lind’s performances were +received with even greater enthusiasm than those of the previous year. +Indeed, if a local journal of the period may be trusted, her horses were +again unharnessed, after the concert on Aug. 1, and her carriage drawn +home, as at Vienna, by the admiring crowd. She prolonged her visit at +Nienstädten—with interruptions—for some considerable time, after the +termination of her engagement at the theatre. Like Mendelssohn, she had, +for some time past, been working far beyond her strength, and the +fatigue was now beginning to tell upon her with serious effect. She +herself saw this very plainly; and her project for retiring from the +stage was forced into greater prominence, just at this time, by the +inroads that excessive fatigue was making upon her health and strength. +Indeed, one can only look on in wonder at the amount of work she was +able to accomplish, without actually breaking down. But it had to be +continued, for the present at least, whatever the sacrifice might be. + +In the meantime, the correspondence with Mendelssohn was not allowed to +languish. Towards the end of July, he wrote thus:— + + “Leipzig, July 23, 1846. + + “MY DEAR FRÄULEIN, + + “As usual, I come to you, to-day, asking a favour. I mean, that I am + anxious to know how matters stand, with regard to your travelling + arrangements, both now, and in the future—and I hope you will explain + them to me. In your last letter, you told me that you were going to + Switzerland, with the Wichmanns, on Aug. 1. Does this plan still hold + good? And, is it true, or not, that you will be at Frankfort in + September? Also, are you going straight from Hamburg to Berlin, to + fetch the Wichmanns? All this I want to know. And it is because I want + to know this, that I ask you to tell me of your plans, both before and + after your journey to Switzerland and Vienna; and whether you still + adhere both to the one and the other intention. The reason is, that, + since my return from the Rhine, I have lived the life of a marmot. I + was rather frightened, when, on coming back, I saw the amount of work + that lay unfinished, and compared it with the time that remained to + me. Then, I made up my mind not to write to you until my Oratorio was + quite complete;[78] but, for the last few days I have not been well + (you will find it out, sooner or later), so now I shall not be ready + till August, and I dare not delay my letter so long as that, or it + will be brought to you while on the back of some mule or other, to + some cow-herd’s hut. + + “Madame Arnemann has written me a very friendly letter, and invited me + to Nienstädten. As yet, I have not been able even to thank her for it; + and yet, how gladly would I have accepted the invitation! But I cannot + get away from here before the middle of August; and, even then, I must + make haste, in order to reach England in time. To-day, however, I + really will write to Madame Arnemann, or she will be vexed—and with + good cause. + + “Is it true that you have been singing the ‘_Regimentstochter_’ in + German? If so, I should have liked to have been one of the audience. + And, do you know that the Geijers have lately been here? and, that + they invited me to go to Sweden, to feast on a roasted reindeer? (I + can get rice-milk at your house!) And, that Fräulein Geijer sang + ‘_Vorwärts so heisst des Schicksals Gebot_’ to me again? and the song, + by Lindblad, in C major. + + “But, I will leave off, for to-day. My letter is tiresome, and stupid, + and will continue so to the end. Only, grant my requests. And tell me + all about yourself, and how you are getting on, and whether you are + having much music, and whether you are in good spirits, and in + first-rate voice? + + “We are all well, at home, and often remember you. + + “Your friend, + “FELIX MENDELSSOHN BARTHOLDY.” + +Mendelssohn’s letters were always welcome; and we have felt it necessary +to present them to our readers without any abbreviation; but the events +which took place between this period and the beginning of September need +no detailed record. It was a time of rest, much needed, and hardly +earned. We shall, therefore, resume our history, with the return to a +more active Art-life, in the autumn. + + +Soon after the middle of September, Mdlle. Lind, accompanied by Mdlle. +Louise Johansson, arrived at Frankfort, where the business of the season +began. + +She had by this time acquired a thoroughly methodical and business-like +way of keeping records, and one of her first acts, on arriving at +Frankfort, was the purchase of a thick and sturdy memorandum-book, a +square bulky volume, of quarto size, labelled, “Annotation-Book of Jenny +Lind,”[79] and filled with ruled “sermon-paper,” in which she entered +every one of her engagements, from that time forward, up to the moment +of her marriage, in America, in the year 1852. + +The value of this document to her biographers may be imagined. +Henceforward we shall no more have to send to Berlin, or to Vienna, for +official lists of the various performances with which we are concerned. +It is true that, up to this date, such lists have been furnished to us +through the intervention of Mr. Goldschmidt, with never-failing +courtesy, by the officers in whose charge the archives of the different +theatres are placed. The information for which we have asked, whether at +Berlin, Vienna, Stockholm, Copenhagen, Hamburg, or elsewhere, has never +once been refused to us, and as much care has been bestowed upon the +verification of a date as if the welfare of the theatre itself had +depended upon its correctness. For this we tender our best and most +sincere thanks; but henceforth every date, in whatever country, will be +given on the authority of Mdlle. Lind’s own handwriting, and the +advantage of this is manifest. + +The first entries in the book are:— + + “Frankfort a/M. 1846. + _Sonnambula_ Sept. 25 + _Norma_ „ 28 + _Figlia_ „ 30 + _Figlia_ Oct. 2 + _Sonnambula_ „ 5 + _Vestale_ (50 Louis d’or for the members of the chorus) x „ 7 + _Figlia_ (benefit for the orchestra pension-fund) x „ 10 + +We subjoin a fac-simile of the first page. The little cross means that +the performance was given wholly, or in part, for charitable or +benevolent purposes, and the number of such crosses in a single page is +sometimes very remarkable. In the present case fifty _Louis d’or_ of the +proceeds, on Oct. 7, were given to the chorus, and on the 10th the whole +was devoted to the “Orchestra Pension Fund” of the Frankfort Stadt +Theatre. + +[Illustration: + + FACSIMILE PAGE OF ENGAGEMENT BOOK. + + [_To face p. 228._ +] + +The performances were crowned with the usual success, and followed by +the usual demonstrations of enthusiastic admiration; but this visit to +Frankfort was memorable for reasons quite unconnected with its +individual triumphs, for it was here that the idea of an engagement at +Her Majesty’s Theatre, in London, first took a definite and palpable +form. + +Some of her London friends—including Mrs. Grote, who herself mentions +the fact in the MS. “Memoir” from which we have so frequently quoted—had +“urged Mr. Lumley to make efforts in this direction,” and he had, in +fact, “made more than one tentative to obtain the services of the +celebrated songstress for Her Majesty’s Theatre.” Hearing of this—as no +doubt he did—Mr. Bunn, looking at the circumstance from his own point of +view, put the worst possible construction upon it, and took it for +granted that his correspondent was cognizant of all that took place— +which was not true. She did not know of it, until the period affected by +Mr. Bunn’s contract had long been overpassed. It was not until long +after that date that Mr. Lumley made her a definite and tangible offer +for Her Majesty’s Theatre; and, when the offer came, she refused even to +think of it. She was so terrified at the penalties, the law-suits, and +the disgrace with which Mr. Bunn had threatened her, that her dearest +and most trusted friends could not persuade her to entertain the idea of +appearing at an English theatre under any circumstances, or upon any +terms whatever. + +And yet her destiny seemed to be weaving a net round about her, from +which no way of escape was visible. She was brought, apart from her own +will entirely, under the steadily increasing influence of English +friends. Mrs. Grote was most anxious that she should come to London. Her +brother, Mr. Edward Lewin—of whom more will be said in a future chapter— +saw no insurmountable difficulties in the way of an engagement at Her +Majesty’s Theatre. Mr. Lumley was unceasing in his endeavours to induce +her to rescind her decision; and, while she was still in Frankfort, the +musical correspondent of one of the most influential art journals in +England turned aside from his travels, in the hope of hearing her sing, +and begged an introduction to her, from a quarter whence he well knew +that it would be favourably received. + +The following letter from Mendelssohn, which arrived in Frankfort almost +simultaneously with Mdlle. Lind herself, will explain the situation +exactly:— + + “Leipzig, Sept. 23, 1846. + + “MY DEAR FRÄULEIN, + + “If you will do me a real favour, and if you are not too much occupied + and worried during your stay in Frankfort, let me beg of you to + receive the bearer of these lines, Mr. Chorley (an acquaintance of + mine of long standing, and a great lover of music), with your usual + kindness, and to sing him one of my songs.[80] + + “He is an excellent listener, and you will make him very happy if you + grant my wish. I believe he is going to Frankfort solely on this + account, so that I have really no choice but to come to you with this + new request. + + “Many thanks for your last letter, which I only received after I had + left London, and at the moment of starting for Ostend. + + “I have so much to say about England, and your journey thither, that I + really do not know how I am to write it. In any case, everything + depends upon the way in which one establishes oneself there; or, + rather, upon the way in which _you_ establish _yourself_, for you have + the whole thing entirely in your own hands, and English lovers of + music are expecting you, in a frame of mind, and speaking of you, in + terms, which please me very much indeed—a thing which very seldom + happens—when I hear you spoken of. So you can manage it exactly _as + you will_; though, for that very reason, you alone are in a position + to decide upon it. + + “Till we meet again, merry, happy, unchanged, + + “FELIX MENDELSSOHN BARTHOLDY.” + +Thus prepared for Mr. Chorley’s visit, Mdlle. Lind received him when he +called, a few days later, with the friendly courtesy which she felt it +no less a pleasure than a duty to extend to the friends of those with +whom she was herself on terms of intimacy. He repeated his visit more +than once, heard her sing in _La Figlia del Reggimento_, and afterwards +in _La Sonnambula_ and _Die Vestalin_, and wrote, on Oct. 4, to Mrs. +Grote, describing, in the most enthusiastic terms, the pleasure he had +felt in hearing her sing. “And now let me tell you,” he says, “how +thoroughly, with my whole heart, I like her as a singer, more, by twenty +times, than I had expected.... I was really delighted to find that I am +not past the old thrill, or the old beating of the heart, and that I +could not go to bed till I had written a note (in horrible French) to +say ‘Thank you.’” + +On the same day (Oct. 4th) he also wrote to Mendelssohn, to thank him +for “the very very intense pleasure” that had made him “laugh and cry +like a child again,” after “a fear of disappointment” which he “hardly +liked to describe,” ending his letter with the words, “She says _she +will not_ come to London,”[81]—from which it is evident, that, if he did +not endeavour to persuade her to come, he had, at least, discussed the +subject with her. + +The next engagement was at Darmstadt, where Mdlle. Lind sang three times +at the Court Theatre,—in _La Sonnambula_, _Norma_, and _La Figlia del +Reggimento_. The memory of the previous performances in Sept. 1845 were +still green and flourishing, and the success of the second visit was +greater than that of the first. + +In the meantime, Mr. Lumley had not been idle. He had now abundant hope— +having gained the all-powerful support of Mendelssohn—and the engagement +of Mdlle. Lind was a matter of such vital importance to him that he +could not afford to let the subject drop. Since the close of the +previous season, the affairs of Her Majesty’s Theatre had been in the +utmost possible disorder. The company, with Mesdames Grisi and Persiani +at their head, had revolted, and there was no one to take their place. +Mr. Lumley’s friends saw, in the proposed engagement, his only chance of +escape from absolute ruin, and urged him to leave no stone unturned that +might help to bring the matter to a successful issue. By their advice, +he followed Mdlle. Lind from Frankfort to Darmstadt, and there again +presented himself to her, armed, this time, with a letter from +Mendelssohn, whom he had seen in Leipzig, and to whom he had taken a +letter from herself. + +Feeling sure that the missive with the delivery of which he was +entrusted was a very valuable one, and not at all likely to be written +in opposition to his own interests, Mr. Lumley lost no time in +presenting it in person; and thus it ran:— + + “Leipzig, October 12, 1846. + + “MY DEAR FRÄULEIN, + + “I intended to write to you on the day on which your first letter + arrived; but a few hours afterwards came your second letter, and Mr. + Lumley, who brought it. All that he said to me, and all that passed + through my mind in connection with it, and the different thoughts that + crossed each other hither and thither, made it impossible for me to + write to you until to-day; and I told Mr. Lumley that, if he should be + coming here again after his journey to Berlin, I would meanwhile think + it all carefully over, and would then tell him whether I could advise + you to go to London or not. + + “Upon that—_i.e._, upon my advice—he seems to set great store, and I + have already told you in my former letter that the whole success of + his undertaking depends upon your coming. + + “In short, I can only repeat what I then wrote—I should like you, as + far as is humanly possible, to arrange, _as completely as one could + wish_, for your own comfort, and, when that has all been settled, I + should like you to go there. + + “I should have strongly urged Mr. Lumley—at least, on his return here— + to speak clearly and exactly about money matters; because that is a + very serious point, in England; and because you could, and ought, to + make such terms as no one else could at this moment, since you are the + _only_ one upon whom alone the whole thing depends. But—do not be + angry with me!—I had not the courage to do this: not even for you, + though I know that you understand that kind of thing even less than I + do—in other words, not at all. But it is such a very sore point with + me, and I rejoice so much when I have nothing to hear or say about it, + that I could not bring the words to my lips. And, at last, I thought, + ‘It is not my province,’ and so, after all, I let it pass. + + “Therefore I can only repeat, it must all be as is just and right to + you. + + “Nevertheless, you will certainly meet with such a reception there, + that you will be able to think of it with pleasure throughout the + whole of your future life. When the English once entertain a personal + liking for anyone, I believe that no people are more friendly, more + cordial, or more constant; and such a feeling you will find there. + For, as I told you before, I have noticed that they entertain this + true feeling there, not only about your singing, but about your + personality, and your whole being, and upon this last they even set + more store than upon the singing itself. And this is as it should be. + + “In my opinion, therefore, it cannot for a moment be doubted that you + will be received there as you deserve—more warmly, enthusiastically, + and heartily, perhaps, than in all your former experience: and you + have experienced a great deal in that way. You will therefore give + your friends great pleasure if you go there; and I, for my part, + should be very glad indeed if you were to go. + + “Insist upon all possible conditions that can in the least degree make + things agreeable to you, and insist upon them very firmly, and + strictly, and clearly. Do not forget anything that may be pleasant for + you, and have nothing to say to anything that may be unpleasant. Going + to London, and singing there, can, in itself, be nothing but pleasant— + of that I am firmly persuaded. Everything else depends only upon the + manner in which this is done, and all that you have in your own hands. + + “I am selfish, too, in my advice; for I hope that we shall there meet + in the world again. While still in England, I had half promised to + return there next April; had I only known that you would be there at + that time, or would be going there, you may imagine how much more + willingly I should have settled it. Mr. Lumley, also, in the kindest + manner, proposed that I should compose an Opera for him next May, and + I could only answer, that, on the self-same day on which I succeeded + in getting a good _libretto_, on a good subject, I would begin to + write the music; and that, in doing so, I should be fulfilling my + greatest wish. He hopes soon to be able to procure such a _libretto_, + and has already taken some decided steps with regard to it. God grant + that some good results may follow. From Madame Birch-Pfeiffer, I have + not heard a single word, for a long time. In the meantime, I have + music-paper and finely-nibbed pens lying on the table—and wait. + + “But, apart from this, I hope, as I have told you, to visit London + again next spring, and what a pleasure it will be to me to witness + there the most brilliant and hearty reception that can possibly fall + to an artist’s lot! For I know full well that that is what your + reception will be, and it will be great fun for me that you yourself + will be the fêted artist. + + “For myself, I am doing well; but, during the three weeks that have + elapsed since I returned here, I have done scarcely anything but rest, + so tired was I—and still am, sometimes—with the work that preceded the + journey to England, and the journey itself. The performance of my + _Elijah_ was the best first performance that I have ever heard of any + one of my compositions. There was so much go, and swing, in the way in + which the people played, and sang, and listened. I wish you had been + there. But I have now fallen back into the concert trouble, and can + neither get true rest, nor quietness here. So I have built myself a + grand castle in the air; namely, to travel, next summer, with my whole + family, in my favourite country—which, as you know, is Switzerland—and + then to study uninterruptedly for two months on one of the lakes, + living in the open air. If God gives us health, we will carry out this + plan; and when I think of such a quiet time in the country after all + the hurry and bustle, and all the brightness of a London season, and + remember how dear both of them are to me, and how well they please me, + I almost wish that the spring were already here, and that I was taking + my seat in the travelling carriage. + + “And now, to-day, I have still a request to make. Write to me, _at + once_, when you have come to a decision concerning England; and tell + me everything, with all the details: for you know how much it all + interests me. Before all things, then, write to me, from time to time; + and think kindly of me, sometimes. + + “As for myself, you know that I am, and remain, + + “Your friend, + “FELIX MENDELSSOHN BARTHOLDY.” + +The result of Mendelssohn’s advice will be most clearly manifested by a +letter which Mr. Lumley wrote to him after his interview with Mdlle. +Lind—a letter which is all the more interesting, inasmuch as it treats, +also, of the long hoped-for _libretto_ in such sort as to show that the +manager had already begun to look upon it as “a matter of business.” + + “Darmstadt, Oct. 17. + + “DEAR MR. MENDELSSOHN, + + “I am delighted to tell you that your letter has had its effect; and + that the lady has signed an engagement.[82] + + “Your letter charmed her so much. It was a most pleasing picture—her + countenance, when reading it. No sun could have infused more joy into + a beautiful landscape, than your letter did on her. + + “To give her peace of mind, I added clauses to the engagement, which, + if known by persons not intimately acquainted with her charming + character and feeling of honour, would perhaps incur for me the charge + of folly. But, I know I can depend on her honour; and I am perfectly + happy and contented on that head. I have prepared the engagement + wholly in her favour; but I proposed to her to add anything else that + you might think advisable, and I added a clause to that effect. + + “She would not enter into the question of money; but I am quite sure + you will be satisfied that I have done everything right in that way. + + “I need not tell you how truly grateful I am to you. The English, as a + nation, will owe you a debt of gratitude; for I look upon the + engagement of Lind as a new era in the progress of Art in England. Her + success will be transcendent. Independently of her great genius, she + has that purity and chastity of manner which none but a really good + person can possess, and which, in England, will gain her partisans on + all sides. I say ‘on all sides,’ because, even with the vile, there is + that in real goodness and virtue which _commands_ admiration. + + “Pray remember me most kindly to Madame Mendelssohn, and to her + mother, and permit me to send my love to your children, not forgetting + the baby, and that beautiful boy Carl, who, though suggestive of the + pictures of Raphael, and Correggio, reminds us that there is an Artist + far above the greatest of human artists, and that the real is + frequently more beautiful than the ideal. + + “My joy on the completion of the affair is not unsullied. I am fearful + that she may, for a time, at least, tease herself with fears, which, + though entirely groundless, may equally torment her. I will venture to + entreat you to assure her of the absolute certainty of her great + success to give her encouragement. + + “I shall lose no time in occupying myself, immediately, with the + _libretto_ for our grand affair; and I do not despair of providing you + with a _libretto_ which shall give you pleasure and ensure your + valuable aid. + + “It is of importance that this affair of Lind should be kept private + for the present. I shall lose no time in occupying myself about the + ‘_affaire Bunn_.’ + + “I need not say that it will give me great pleasure to hear from you. + + “Yours most truly, + “B. LUMLEY.”[83] + +Without wearying our readers with a literal transcript of the “Lumley +Contract,” with its endless circumlocutions and technical legal +phraseology, we may briefly say that it provided:— + + (1) An _honorarium_ of 120,000 francs (£4800) for the season, reckoned + from April 14th to August 20th, 1847. + + (2) A furnished house, a carriage, and a pair of horses, free of + charge, for the season. + + (3) A farther sum of £800 if Mdlle. Lind wished to spend a month in + Italy before her _début_, for the purpose of studying the + language, or for rest. + + (4) Liberty to cancel the engagement, if, after her first appearance, + she felt dissatisfied at the measure of its success and wished + to discontinue her performances. + + (5) Mdlle. Lind was not to sing at concerts, public or private, for + her own emolument. + +So, the question of appearing at Her Majesty’s Theatre was decided at +last; and, when Mdlle. Lind left Darmstadt, for Munich, she had bound +herself to the most important dramatic engagement, and prepared the way +for the most solid artistic triumph that ever had been, or was ever +destined to be, associated with her name. + + + + + BOOK VI. + WORK AND FRIENDS. + + + + + CHAPTER I. + SOUTH GERMANY. + + +On the 1st of August, 1846, Mdlle. Lind proceeded from Darmstadt to +Munich, where, between the 23rd of October, and the 8th of November, she +sang six times at the Opera; besides taking part in a Concert given for +the benefit of the Orchestra. + +Before leaving Frankfort, she had sent the following account of her +probable movements to Madame Birch-Pfeiffer:— + + “Frankfort-on-the-Maine, Oct. 6, 1846. + + “To-day, I am twenty-six years old! dear Mother Birch! that is no + light matter; and therefore it is that I feel such a desire to write + to you to-day, and to thank you heartily for your last letter. + + “Your letters are so motherly, and filled with such good wishes, that + I thought I heard you speaking, and saw your face quite clearly, + exactly as it used to be in Berlin, when we were discussing anything + particular. So I thank you my good friend for this your sympathy. + + “I have never thought otherwise than to go to Vienna; let what will + happen, I shall sing in the _Feldlager_, and all the more, because it + has fallen through in London. This is really my wish—only, you + yourself know what is to be expected from Pokorny, and whether one has + not everything to fear there from a man who understands absolutely + nothing about the matter. + + “I will, and must, keep my promise with the public; and I shall be + quit of this promise if I sing in Meyerbeer’s Opera. With regard to + the performance, the first thing is, that a good tenor should be + engaged, and that the others should be passable. As for what concerns + me, I shall make my arrangements in Vienna according to circumstances. + If I am not pleased, I shall leave immediately after the _Feldlager_. + + “I am longing, above all measure, to get away from the stage. I think, + now, that I shall be ready in six months. I cannot do otherwise. It is + stronger than I! + + “Lumley, the Director of the Italian Opera in London, came here; but I + have sent him to Italy, to look for a singer there. But, he still + hopes to get me; and, if you should hear that I have really gone mad, + I may then go to London.”[84] + +In the meantime, Mdlle. Lind’s visit to Munich was a great success. An +introduction to the family of Professor Wilhelm von Kaulbach, the famous +Bavarian painter, had resulted in an invitation to his house, where she +was received, during the time of her visit, with warm hospitality; +treated, by the Professor, and his wife, as a beloved daughter; and made +no less happy than she had been, in Berlin, at the house of Professor +Wichmann. + +And so it happened, that the visit to Munich was a very happy, as well +as a very successful one. But there were anxieties with regard to the +Lumley Contract; and, especially, with reference to the clause which +provided for an increased _honorarium_, if Mdlle. Lind felt it necessary +to pass a month in Italy, for the purpose of studying the language. She +herself thought the plan desirable. Mendelssohn, however, did not +approve of it; and stated his objection to this, and some other clauses +in the “Lumley Contract,” in a letter, dated “Leipzig, October 31, +1846.” + + “MY DEAR FRÄULEIN, + + “A thousand thanks for the trust you place in me. I have many times + wished that I were wise and shrewd enough to be able to respond to + this trust by something better than goodwill and the best wishes; but, + unfortunately, with regard to contracts, and all sorts of + law-business, I am the stupidest creature that can possibly be. + + “Once, I thought I would show the contract to some one or other who + could give me good advice, and tell me of all sorts of clauses that + might possibly be added to it. In the end, however, this did not seem + to me to be wise; and I have preferred not showing your contract to + any lawyers at all, and have taken no good advice at all upon it. For, + I think, if you had wished for _finesse_ of this kind, you would not + have applied to me. And, besides this, I think that you will be + greeted, in England, musically and personally, with such love, and + jubilation, and rapture, as has seldom fallen even to you; and I think + that you will pass pleasant days there; and that this is the chief + purport of the contract, and the chief point of the whole business. + + “A few things, certainly, do not seem to me to be right; but, as these + are chief points in the contract, and as you have already signed, I do + not see how anything can be altered. + + “Finally, it seems to me that I could have nothing to do with + modifying anything in the engagement, but only with adding something + that might occur to me. I should, indeed, have gladly seen that Lumley + had contented himself with four months. (That he always spoke to me of + four months, here, I well remember.) And that, instead of ten times in + each month, you had insisted upon eight, at most. And, when I think of + all this, and of your personal reputation in England at the present + moment, it seems to me that something ought also to be altered on the + score of money. + + “But all this must, I believe, be looked upon as settled, now and for + ever, since you have signed. And, from this moment, in my opinion, + none of these points—which really are, and must remain, the chief + points of the contract—can in any way be brought into question. + + “Also, I am convinced that you will enjoy being in England; and, if + so, the twenty-one days in August might perhaps, in any case, have + been conceded by you. And, more than that, you will sing ten times + there with less exertion than eight times in Germany, where the + journeys, the frequently inadequate support, and, above all, the + hundred thousand shameful and shameless demands with which you are + beset, tire you a great deal more than the singing itself—and all this + you will, in great part, get rid of there. + + “Moreover, you will not, I think, find it very expensive there, since + the two most costly items are provided for in the contract, and will + not fall to your charge. But, in any case, this, as I have already + said, can no longer be brought into question, since it is already + decided. + + “To set against this, there is one little thing that I do not like to + give in to; namely, when it says that ‘_Mdlle. Lind ne chantera dans + aucun autre Théâtre ou Concert publique ou particulier_.’ I find, ‘_ne + chantera dans aucun Théâtre ou Concert publique_,’ quite reasonable; + and this is, in fact, all the pleasanter for you; but, as you very + properly say in your letter, that ‘_particulier_’ may, in the end, be + made to extend to the Queen. Above all, then, if it is to please me, + great freedom and latitude must prevail with regard to that not + ‘_publique_’ but ‘_particulier_.’ I should be most pleased if the two + words, ‘_ou particulier_,’ were struck out altogether; but that, I + fear, would create difficulty, since you yourself have sanctioned them + by your signature. Still, as the sense of them satisfies me so little, + I should like, if the two words cannot be struck out, to add the + following, at the end:— + + “_Il est bien entendu, que sous le terme, ‘Concerts particuliers’ + (dans lesquels Mdlle. Lind a renoncée de chanter), ne sont compris que + les Concerts qui se donnent dans les appartements particuliers (comme + cela se fait souvent à Londres), et où l’on entre en payant; mais que + pour toutes les_ SOIRÉES _ou_ SOCIÉTÉS _particulières où Mdlle. Lind + sera invitée, et où_ PERSONNE _ne peut entrer en payant, elle doit se + réserver la liberté de faire tel usage de son talent qui lui plaira._ + + “Lastly, there is still something to which I object—that you should + promise to spend the month during which you study the Italian + language, in some Italian city. Could not this be done just as well in + Vienna? And would not the journey to Italy, and thence to England + immediately afterwards, fatigue you more than a month’s rest would + strengthen and refresh you? + + “You will, no doubt, come to an understanding with Mr. Lumley on these + points, by word of mouth, as he told me he would meet you again in + Vienna. If, however, you agree with my interpolations in French, I beg + you to send them to him. I, on my part, will do so, direct; and I will + also write to him once more about the _libretto_, and press him on the + subject. + + “This brings me back to Madame Birch-Pfeiffer; and I assure you, that, + for half a year past, I have put together her suspicious remarks, of + all kinds, about the headaches; and I foresaw, long ago, that she + would find a thousand and one excuses for not writing a _libretto_ at + all. I fear it still, to-day; but, notwithstanding this, I think that + I dare not, and must not, countermand her. On the contrary, if she + were really to write and send me a good _libretto_, why should I not + set it to music? I would do so with the greatest pleasure, whether + Meyerbeer busied himself about it, or not. But I shall keep my eyes + open, to see whether the book is good, or the contrary; and, if it is + _not_ good, I must tell her, somehow or other, that it will not do. + And it is for this reason that I would rather wait and see what _she_ + does. Sometimes, however, I think she will do nothing; in which case + the thing will come to an end of itself; for I cannot go on reminding + and pressing her any longer, and, since the last letter, with the + questions that I wrote to you about, I have heard nothing. + + “I should indeed be glad if I could soon, in accordance with my most + hearty wish, write something dramatic—and especially, for you. Of what + I can do in that way I will neglect nothing; of that I assure you; for + I should at all times have gladly written dramatic music, but now more + gladly than ever. And then I have a secret foreboding, which tells me + that, if I do not attain to the composition of a fairly good Opera, + _now_, and _for you_, I shall never accomplish it at all. But, on that + point again, I entertain a regular Turkish fatalism—that, if it never + happens, it never was to happen, even though I may have done all that + I could to bring it about. And that, I am doing. So I shall be content + if we meet again in this life, be it with, or without an Opera. + + “But enough of plans! Enough of contracts! I return the contract + herewith—enough of England, Scotland, and Ireland! + + “Yet, no! there is still a claim that I should like to insert into the + contract, only I should like to insert it in German. I beg you, + Fräulein Lind, to engage yourself with two friends whom I have in + London, to visit them sometimes, to sit quite still by the lady, who + is very ill and can have very little more pleasure in this world, and + now and then to sing her a song. In that way you will indeed give + pleasure to her, and to me also. Is that a point of the contract which + you have signed? or rather, one which I may venture to add to it? + + “And now, really enough of this! We are in good health, and well in + all essential matters; but all sorts of little difficulties and + sicknesses in the household, and other worries here and there, have + prevented the last few weeks from being cheerful. + + “Then, the heterogeneous mixture of half-French ways and manners that + I see daily more and more gaining ground in my Fatherland makes me + often so inwardly sorry, that it has long spoiled my good humour. It + dives into every hole and corner; it creeps in one way into Life, in + another into Art, and in yet another into Science; yet nowhere is it + good. It is mimicked everywhere; everywhere it is bound to disappear, + as soon as one looks it fairly in the eyes; and yet it always swaggers + on again, in its borrowed mediocrity. I wish I could some day talk + this over with you at length; for you know the misery just as well as + I do myself, and as everyone does, who has, at this moment, anything + to do with things public in Germany. But, what is the use of talking + about it? and yet, ‘Out of the abundance of the heart,’ &c. + + “You are now in Munich, and meet the Swedish Princes—so people tell + me—and see my old Hauser in his new office. You must greet him many + times from me. I was also with him, once, in Munich, and very pleasant + it was. But that was a long while ago! Are you now going to Vienna? + How long do you stay in Munich? And how long in Vienna, afterwards? + What is Fräulein Luise doing? Were you happy in Frankfort? All these, + and a thousand others, are questions to which I would gladly have your + answer, when you have again time to write to me. + + “I often think, now, of your question on the Rhine steamboat, whether + I should not like to leave Leipzig again? and your wish that I should + not stay in Leipzig for ever, &c. &c. You were quite right, and I well + know what you meant; and, in two or three years, at the utmost, I + think I shall have done my duty here, after which I should scarcely + stay any longer.[85] Perhaps I might prefer Berlin; perhaps, the + Rhine; somewhere where it is very pretty, and where I could compose + all day long, as much as I liked. But, really, you would have to sing + to me, sometimes.” + +In the end, after much hesitation, the project for the Italian journey +was finally abandoned. Mr. Lumley does not seem to have interfered, in +any way, with the settlement of the question, or even to have taken any +particular interest in it, though the expedition would have cost him +£800. + +But, with reference to another point, concerning which Mendelssohn had +evidently written to him “direct,” as he had promised to do in his +letter to Mdlle. Lind, he returned an explanatory reply, showing that +the bearing of the clause relating to ‘_Concerts particuliers_’ was far +more important than his correspondent supposed. + +It was evident that the clause relating to this point must, for the +protection of both parties to the contract, be so worded as to render +misinterpretation impossible. Mr. Lumley, therefore, proposed to add the +three following clauses to the original document:— + + “(1). The clause referred to does not extend to any concert given by + the Queen. + + “(2). It does not extend to prevent Mdlle. Lind from singing + gratuitously, should she think fit, in private parties of friends, or + where she may be invited as one of the company, even though she should + subsequently, or at the time, be presented with a _cadeau_ for so + doing. + + “(3). Should any question arise as to the construction of the term + ‘private concerts’ (‘_Concerts particuliers_’), and in what private + concerts she can or cannot sing, it is left to Mdlle. Lind to decide, + Mr. Lumley having the fullest reliance on her honourable feeling, in + this, as in all other instances.” + +This explanatory gloss was, of course, perfectly satisfactory; and, so +far as the terms of the contract were concerned, there was little, if +anything, that needed farther revision. + +But, the prospect was not altogether cloudless. There was still a shadow +looming in the distance—a hideous shadow, that stretched across from +England. + + +All, however, still went well, and more than well, at Munich. Herr +Hauser wrote to Mendelssohn:— + + “The maiden has sung here in such sort that it has been a true and + heartfelt pleasure to listen to her. Among other parts she sang that + of Susanna, for the first time; and one could not imagine anything + more gracefully lovely. I wish you could have heard her sing the + passage _Komm du mein Trauter, dass ich Dich kränze mit Rosen_. She + looked like an angel, and nothing could possibly have been more + beautiful; for me it was the most beautiful thing that I knew of. + Moreover, the Munich people did not behave badly outside the house. + The orchestra was the maddest. For instance, she never came to the + theatre for rehearsal without being received with shouts and fanfares! + I tell you it was a jubilee such as I find it impossible to describe. + So I prefer saying no more about it.” + +And as, in Madame Wichmann’s _salon_ in Berlin, Mdlle. Lind had enjoyed +the society of so many of the leading spirits in the Prussian literary +and artistic world, so here, at Professor Kaulbach’s, she was brought +into contact with the leading men of genius in Bavaria. And, apart from +this literary and artistic circle, she found a hearty welcome in other +classes of society. Prince Maximilian of Bavaria, the father of the +present Empress of Austria, was her sincere friend; and other magnates +of highest rank received her with marked respect and attention. Her stay +in the Bavarian capital was, therefore, in every way an interesting and +agreeable one. + +Six performances at the theatre and a Concert for the Orchestra were +completed by the 8th of November, and she then took leave of Munich for +a time, to return again in the middle of December. + +Her next engagement was at Stuttgard, where between the 11th and the +22nd of November she sang five times at the Theatre; once, at a Court +Concert given by the King of Wurtemburg; and at a mixed entertainment, +for the benefit of the poor—for whom she earned fifteen hundred and +fifty Rhenish gulden. + +On the day after her first performance at Stuttgard she wrote to her +friend Madame von Kaulbach:— + + “Stuttgard, Nov. 12, 1846. + + “DEAR GOOD MADAME KAULBACH,— + + “You were kind enough to wish for a few lines from me, and it gives me + so much pleasure to send you these ‘few lines’ that I sit down at once + to write them. Perhaps you may not be able to read my handwriting, + for, between ourselves, it is fearfully like that of Dr. K——; but + Gasser, who so well understands everything that is wild—mind, I do not + say ‘mild’ but ‘wild’—will have the goodness to help you with it. + + “I hope and believe for certain, that you yourself know how pleasant + it is for one in your house, and how happy one must find oneself + there, and how everything with you is pleasant and enlivening. But I + must tell you so plainly; and must take this opportunity of telling + you how truly grateful and beholden I feel towards you. I well knew, + even during my stay in Munich, how much everything there pleased me, + but I know it better still now.”[86] + +It is touching to mark the warmth of grateful recognition so artlessly +expressed in the still unfamiliar German, the grammatical construction +of which bore traces, even here, of those idiomatic difficulties which +drive so many foreigners to despair. But, in the language of the heart, +peculiarities of idiom are unknown; and it was in this language that +Mdlle. Lind carried on her correspondence with her German friends. + +To Madame Birch-Pfeiffer, she wrote thus:— + + “Stuttgard, Nov. 12, 1846. + + “I rank the Munich public quite certainly next to that of Vienna. + + “The house is splendid; though the size of it caused me, at first, so + much anxiety, that I positively determined not to sing in it. The + orchestra is excellent. + + “The Kaulbachs behave like parents to me. _Enfin_, all is well.” + +To her guardian, Judge Munthe, she wrote, on the following day, in her +own native Swedish:— + + “Stuttgard, Nov. 13, 1846. + + “Munich is a splendid place, and I am going there again, before I go + on to Vienna. + + “All my plans have been deranged by an engagement for the Italian + Opera in London; where I shall have no Grisi or other _prima donna_ + star to contend with, but shall be chiefly supported by Signor + Lablache. + + “The manager of the Opera followed me everywhere; so I wrote, for + advice, to Felix Mendelssohn, who, knowing London thoroughly, and me + too, told me that I ought by all means to go there, and that it would + be extremely unwise for me if I did not do so. + + “Lumley, the manager, offered me, from the 1st of April, to the 21st + of August, 140,000 francs, besides lodgings, and a carriage, and this + does not seem very bad. No one has been offered half so much. My fate + has been greatly changed indeed. But, do not mention this to any one, + or people will talk about 1,400,000 millions! + + “So, I shall not be much longer in Germany. I go to Vienna, most + probably, next month; and, in February, to Italy, for the sake of the + language. Do you approve? If I am successful in London, I shall be + honourably entitled to go home at Christmas, and live the life that my + soul is longing for, and be able to do good to those for whom I care.” + +After fulfilling her engagement in Stuttgard, Mdlle. Lind proceeded to +Carlsruhe; where she sang three times. + +From Carlsruhe, she proceeded to Heidelberg; where, on the 5th of +December, she gave a Concert, with such success, that, on reaching her +temporary lodgings, she was greeted with a serenade, accompanied by a +torch-light procession of students; and, when she quitted the +picturesque old town, on the following morning, its inhabitants +expressed their thanks by presenting her with a poetical address, +printed on a long narrow fillet of delicate sea-green satin, fringed, at +each end, with gold. + +Proceeding thence to Mannheim, she sang, on the evening of the same day +(Dec. 6), in _La Figlia del Reggimento_; and assisted, on the 7th, at a +concert given by Mr. Kuhe. + +From Mannheim, she travelled to Nuremberg, where she sang, on the 9th of +December, in _La Sonnambula_, and, on the 11th, in _La Figlia del +Reggimento_; and, that nothing might be wanting to render this +provincial tour a remarkable one, the worthy burghers of that most +quaint and beautiful of mediæval cities—the birthplace of Albert Dürer, +and Peter Vischer, and the cradle of those Arts of ornamental metal-work +and priceless _orfèverie_, for which Germany was so famous in the Middle +Ages—the worthy burghers of Nuremberg, descendants of the +Merchant-Princes of the fifteenth and sixteenth centuries, and, in less +princely lineage, from the Meistersinger who flourished under the +leadership of the renowned Hans Sachs, commemorated her visit, by +striking a medal in her honour. + +From Nuremberg to its Art-sister, Augsburg—the birthplace of the great +Fugger family, and the present home of many of its honourable +descendants—the distance is but eighty-nine English miles; and in +Augsburg, she gave, on the 13th of December, the last concert at which +she proposed to sing before her return to Munich. + +For the second visit to Munich the Operas chosen were, _La Figlia del +Reggimento_, _Don Juan_, and _Le Nozze di Figaro_. In addition to these, +there was a Concert for the Orchestra; and a performance of the +_Creation_, (also for the benefit of the Orchestra), on the 25th of +December. + +It was another Christmas Day spent far away from home. But, if it lacked +the blessing of home-associations and the simple pleasures of Swedish +national observances, it was consecrated, in a special manner, to the +highest interests of Art and the warmest sentiments of humanity. + + + + + CHAPTER II. + THE RETURN TO VIENNA. + + +Within a fortnight after her farewell performance of Haydn’s _Creation_, +at Munich, Mdlle. Lind was again hard at work in Vienna, where she +arrived on the last day of the year 1846. + +Since her first visit a sad change had taken place. To her great sorrow— +for she had learned sincerely to respect her—Madame Vivanot, in whose +house she had lived so comfortably, was dead. She therefore chose for +her residence some apartments annexed to the _Theater an der Wien_, and +known as the _Theater Gebäude_. These she rented from Herr Pokorny; and +in these she remained until the end of her engagement. + +But in the meantime she had formed a closer intimacy still with the +family of Herr Oberstabsarzt Professor Dr. von Jaeger, a physician of +high reputation, whose daughter was her chosen friend, and to whose +amiable wife she looked up as to a mother. With these dear friends, she +spent all her free days during the season of 1847; and she afterwards +spoke of this period as one of the happiest in her life. + +Of her experiences in Vienna, she wrote thus, to Madame Birch-Pfeiffer:— + + “I am living at Pokorny’s; for, only think! poor Madame Vivanot, with + whom I lived last year, is dead. It has grieved me terribly. I shall + only stay here for this month. Unhappily, the _Feldlager_ will be + given later than I expected, and I shall only be able to take part in + a few representations. I am the more sorry for this, because the Opera + has now been made so very different, and my _rôle_ has been greatly + improved! + + “Meyerbeer behaves to me like an angel. I cannot help being fond of + him—and really am so. He takes an enormous amount of trouble with his + work, and I hope it will succeed. + + “Things are going on better here at the theatre than they did last + spring. But I am not so happy, here, as at Munich. I dream of Munich. + I return there from here, direct, to study Italian very quietly at the + Kaulbachs; for I am not going to Italy. That would take me too far out + of my way; and I have an excellent opportunity of studying Italian, + with a true friend.”[87] + +Meanwhile, Mdlle. Lind remained as great a favourite as ever with the +public. The Opera chosen for her re-appearance, on the 7th of January, +1847, was _La Figlia del Reggimento_, under its new German title, +_Marie, die Tochter des Regiments_. + +The success of the new _rôle_ was indescribable. The Opera became so +popular, that, after the first few representations had taken place, a +portrait of Mdlle. Lind, in the character of “Marie,” published at +Munich, found its way at Vienna into the house of every music-lover in +the city. The print was so much superior, in every way, to the average +portraits of dramatic artists “in character,” that we have thought it +better to present our readers with a copy of it, at once, than to +reserve our illustration—as we had originally intended to do—until our +notice of the production of the Opera in England. + +The _Wiener Zeitung_, which had always been more cautious in its +expressions of praise than the Berlin newspapers, entirely forgot its +reserve, on the present occasion. + + “Her song is the audible expression of her inner life,” it said. “Her + acting and singing melt into one another, and the beauty of the + dramatic expression moves hand in hand with the nobility of the + declamatory vocalisation. A voice so ideal, and so full of soul, a + manner so earnest, such childlike _naïveté_, such deep poetry, such + perfect innocence of song, form a very rare manifestation in the world + of Art. We find in Fräulein Jenny Lind’s singing a fervour, a feeling, + a spiritual life; precious qualities, by means of which she ennobles + the most insignificant details, and raises them to the highest level + of æsthetic beauty. And it is precisely from her creative power of + conception, her inspiration, and her sympathetic character, that this + æsthetic beauty springs.” + +But the triumphs at the _Theater an der Wien_ were not the only +agreeable events by which the opening of the new year was enlivened. + +It happened that, at this time, Dr. Robert and Madame Clara Schumann +were staying at Vienna and giving concerts of deep artistic +significance. And it will be readily understood that Mdlle. Lind did not +neglect so happy an opportunity of practically expressing her thanks for +the kindness Madame Schumann had shown her, at her own concert in +Leipzig, in the previous spring. + +[Illustration: + + Printed by permission of J. Aibl Publisher, Munich. + + _Jenny Lind in the character of “La Figlia del Reggimento.”_ +] + +The three first concerts were over. At the fourth, and last, announced +to take place on the 10th of January, Mdlle. Lind had offered to sing; +and the demand for tickets then so greatly increased the possible +supply, that the room was crowded to suffocation. The concert was most +successful. Madame Schumann played to perfection; and the songs received +additional lustre from her delightful accompaniments, with which those +of Mendelssohn alone could be worthily compared. + +The reader cannot fail to be interested with the following extracts from +the Diary she kept at this time:— + + “1847. _Saturday, Jan. 2._—Called early on Jenny Lind, who greeted me + with a request to sing at my last Concert, whereat I was greatly + delighted. She refused all thanks, telling me, over and over again, + that she looked upon it as an obligation; and that, besides that, she + esteemed it an honour to sing at my Concert. + + “_Wednesday, Jan. 6._—Jenny Lind called on us for rehearsal. She came + earlier than was arranged; and, as she did not find us at home, she + entertained herself with my two children, whom we found upon her lap + when we returned. She is a dear creature, full of soul, whom I like + better and better, the more I see of her. + + “_Sunday, Jan. 10._—Gave my fourth and last Concert, which was full to + crushing (_zum Erdrücken voll_), so that many people could get no + places at all. Jenny Lind sang wonderfully. One can never forget such + achievements. + + “_Monday, Jan. 11._—We called on Jenny Lind, who, immediately upon our + entrance, called out, ‘Will you not give another Concert, and let me + sing at it?’ We stayed rather a long time with her; and I sat as if + rooted to my place. I am so fond of her. She is for me the warmest + noblest being that I have yet found among Artistes—and how can I ever + forget her? One must know her, and know her thoroughly, to love her as + I do. We talked about many things, including Stockholm, when she made + me promise that I would stay with her, when I came there, and that I + would not go unless she was there herself, so that she might take part + in my Concerts. It was very nice of her. I could have hugged her all + the time!”[88] + +There were many other Concerts, during the winter. A private one, at the +house of the Russian Grand Duchess; a _soirée_, given by the Archduchess +Sophie, the mother of the present Emperor of Austria, and another, given +by the Empress, the Consort of the Emperor Ferdinand. The members of the +Imperial family had, from the first, shown all honour to the talented +“Guest,” and received her with marked attention; and they always heard +her sing with every sign of unaffected pleasure. + +Besides assisting at the Court performances, Mdlle. Lind sang at a +concert given by the little Wilhelmina Neruda—now Lady Hallé—who, +though then little more than six-and-a-half years old, had already +made a great reputation, in Vienna, as a child-violinist; and at a +later performance, the entire receipts of which were distributed, in +equal shares, between the _Kinderspital_, or Children’s Hospital, and +the _Kleinkinderbewahranstalt_, or Home for Little Children, for both +of which the results were most fortunate. + +While these events were in progress, Mendelssohn wrote to her thus:— + + “Leipzig, Feb. 19, 1847. + + “It is a long time since we have spoken to each other, my dear + Fräulein. Why I must begin my letter thus, and why my heart felt so + heavy, when Dr. Schumann brought me your letter—delayed since the 20th + of last month—I will some day tell you, in detail, by word of mouth. + + “To-day I have before all things, a favour to ask of you. You will + think this a great bore: for which reason I come down upon it, like a + sledge-hammer—seeing that I can in no wise let you off it. + + “When your journey to England was in question, you once showed me + confidence enough to ask my opinion; and, in connection with this, I + have now something on my mind. + + “In your last letter but one, you say:—‘Lumley takes Bunn’s contract + wholly upon himself: _that I have in writing_.’ Is it asking too much, + if I beg you, as soon as you have a moment to spare, to tell me where + this stands written by Lumley? _i.e._ to send me a copy of the _words_ + in which he pledges himself to take over the contract, and to let me + see whether these words stand in your engagement with Lumley, or + somewhere else? + + “It seems to me, now, as if I saw you vexed at this request—but do not + be so. I feel as if I should not have done my duty properly, if I had + not asked you to send me this copy, and then, after knowing all about + it, given my opinion more amply. Beforehand, I cannot give it; and, if + you will allow yourself to be vexed at my importunity, I tell you that + you yourself are in fault, since, by telling me so much, you gave me + the right to enquire farther—made it, in fact, my duty to do so. + + “A few days ago, Herr Arnemann was here, and we talked the whole thing + over; but no one understands these matters more exactly than myself, + for I have often had to do with the English, and, for that very + reason, I should not like, to say anything incorrectly or by halves; + and, for that very reason, _et cætera, et cætera_. + + “Lumley began to send me the _libretto_ for the Opera, barely three + weeks ago. It seems to me impossible to get the music for such a + subject ready for the stage, in time for this season—that is to say, + by May, at the latest—and I am in doubt as to whether I had better + begin it, and get on as far as I can, or not begin it at all, since, + as I said before, I feel that it will be impossible for me to finish + it. There has already been much vexation, in connection with this—but + I will tell you all about it, _vivâ voce_. + + “To Madame Birch-Pfeiffer I have—as I had already resolved—written no + more. But she wrote to me, lately, quite unexpectedly, to say that, + for many reasons, to her _most bitter sorrow_, she could not entertain + the idea of writing a _libretto_ for me. To this, however, I have not + replied: and I think we are now of one mind. + + “This letter is like a room in which people have been playing + practical jokes, and turned all the furniture upside down. It is a + great bore to have to set everything straight, and to put it into its + right place. But it must be done, all the same; and only after that + can one live comfortably there again. Do not weary yourself to make + this clearance. + + “It is all well with us here at home, thank God! and we all think of + you every day. Breitkopf and Härtel have just sent me the first copy + of a new quartette, by Hermann Wichmann, that they are now publishing. + A few months ago I was staying in Wichmann’s house again, and was much + pleased with your portrait, by Magnus, which is now there, instead of + yourself. + + “I have often and often thought over what you more than once said to + me about Leipzig, when we were on the Rhine. I believe you were right; + and, sooner or later, I shall have to follow your advice. + + “My servant, to whom I was as much attached as you to your Annette, + has died in our house, after a long illness. I was called up in the + night; and, just as I came to him, he died. Since then, I have never + been able to get over the moment. + + “Joachim played splendidly at the concert, yesterday. He is a + first-rate fellow. Apart from this, the music does not sound very well + here, this winter; it is a little rough.” + +We shall, however, dismiss these subjects for the present, and proceed +to the description of a new triumph, which produced no small amount of +excitement at the _Theater an der Wien_. + + + + + CHAPTER III. + THE SHADOW. + + +As early as the 2nd of December, 1846, Meyerbeer had requested, and +obtained, from the King of Prussia, two months’ leave of absence, for +the purpose of bringing out a revised version of _Das Feldlager in +Schlesien_ in the Austrian capital; and on the 18th of February, 1847, +it was performed there for the first time, with certain changes in the +_libretto_ intended for the purpose of rendering it more acceptable to a +Viennese audience, and under the new title of _Vielka_. Its success was +triumphant. It had an immediate run of thirteen nights, interrupted only +by a performance of the _Creation_, for the benefit of the orchestra; +and the famous trio for _Vielka_ and the two flutes—afterwards +transferred to _L’Etoile du Nord_, of which it formed the chief +attraction—became at once extremely popular. + +Yet, so dissatisfied was Mdlle. Lind, that, when the last flowers had +been strown, and the echo of the last burst of applause had died away, +she left the stage in despair at what she considered an ignoble failure, +and with the full conviction that Meyerbeer himself would reproach her +with having done injustice to his beautiful Opera. + +We have already said, that, among her most intimate friends in Vienna, +during the season of 1847, were Professor von Jaeger, and his wife and +daughter, at whose house she was accustomed to spend most of her free +days, at this period. + +The last-named lady, Fräulein Auguste von Jaeger, remembers the first +performance of _Vielka_ perfectly. At the fall of the curtain, she and +her mother hurried to Mdlle. Lind’s dressing-room to congratulate her on +her new triumph. They found her in the white robe in which, as a +purified spirit, she had just ascended to the skies; surrounded by the +flowers which had been thrown upon the stage and afterwards brought to +her room; and bathed in tears of penitence for her “imperfect singing,” +which had “spoiled the Opera.” + +While they were endeavouring to console her, some one knocked at the +door which she had locked. It was Meyerbeer, begging for admittance. In +a voice broken by sobs, she cried through the closed door, “Oh! Herr +Director! forgive me for singing so badly, and spoiling your Opera!” + +“But, you have sung divinely!” said Meyerbeer. “It was all splendid. I +have come to thank you! to thank you!” + +But she refused to be comforted. Whatever Meyerbeer may have thought, +she had fallen short of her own ideal. She could neither satisfy +herself, nor endure the satisfaction of others. + +On the evening of this memorable first performance, a high compliment +was paid to her, by the presentation of a beautiful medal, in the name +of the Art lovers of Vienna. This act of recognition, however, was not +the last of the season. + +On the 28th of March, 1847, Mdlle. Lind was presented, by command of the +Emperor Ferdinand, with an official diploma, appointing her +_Kammersängerin_ to His Imperial Majesty. The document was signed by the +High Chamberlain, Count Moritz von Dietrichstein, and was couched in +terms which not only recognised the talents of the Artist, but made +special allusion to the “noble and philanthropic feeling” with which she +had dedicated those talents to “the promotion of benevolent designs.” + +Simultaneously with these tokens of honour and respect _Vielka_ +continued to maintain an uninterrupted run, at the _Theater an der +Wien_. The last performance of it was the last but one of the season; +and on the last night of all—April the 7th—Mdlle. Lind sang in _Norma_, +for her own benefit, with the brilliant success which has been so often +described that it is unnecessary to recapitulate the details on the +present occasion. + +These events, however, are connected rather with the history of the +Vienna season of 1847, than with the more intimate life of the subject +of our present memoir. + +With reference to the latter, we prefer leaving Mdlle. Lind to speak in +her own words. The following letter to Madame Wichmann will show that +Madame Schumann’s affection for her was warmly returned:—· + + “Vienna, Jan. 20, 1847. + + “I know so well your love and self-denying kindness for me, that I do + not for a moment fear that you will be vexed if I send someone to your + house. Is it not so? You will not be angry with me? + + “I mean the Schumanns. + + “You know, of course, that her talent is altogether splendid; for, of + course you have often heard of her as Clara Wieck. They are two such + excellent and noble, really noble persons, that they will give you + great pleasure. Please, dearly beloved, receive these two dear people + kindly, and as friends, for your own sake, and for mine. The wife is + very sensitive, and you will see that she is quite an exceptional + woman. He is a composer _plein d’esprit_, and modest to the last + degree. I asked them if they had any acquaintances in Berlin; and they + seemed to me to have no real ones. And then it was that I thought of + you; and you may well know how grateful I shall be. + + “Ah, yes! When shall I see you again? _Mon Dieu!_ This longing for + rest grows upon me, almost beyond all measure; but time passes + quickly, and no mortal will be so glad as I, when I am but free.” + +The next letter is written three weeks later:— + + “Vienna, Feb. 13, 1847. + + “What can you be thinking about! I, going to Paris! Who could have + told you that? And how could I have entertained such an idea, without + telling you of it! + + “No, dearest Amalia. I am not only not going to Paris, but it seems as + if I shall not even go to London. + + “Bunn will not give up the contract; and I cannot go there unless he + does so, for he actually threatens to put me in prison!!! I tell you, + Amalia, I should be wild with joy, if I had not to go there! _Mon + Dieu!_ Suppose it fell out so! + + “They have made me all possible offers from Paris; but I did not need + a moment to think it over. + + “The stage I will leave—and I shall then want nothing else in the + world. + + “I am quite well; and it goes more than well with me here. _Das + Feldlager_ is not yet ready; but it is to be given next week, and it + goes very well. The Opera will certainly create a _furore_ here in + Vienna. + + “I rejoice that it gives me so much pleasure to hear of Viardot + Garcia’s success in Berlin. I have never been envious for a moment. + Tell Taubert so: he thinks me rather weak on that point.” + +Swiftly, yet stealthily, the shadow was drawing near: and a dark and +baleful shadow it must have seemed, to one who did not know how utterly +unreal it was. + +Deliberate efforts were made to persuade Mdlle. Lind that, if she came +to England, she would be put in prison. There is strong evidence to +prove that she believed this. And the belief terrified her. To a letter +written by her about this time to Mendelssohn, he answered thus:— + + “Leipzig, March 14, 1847. + + “MY DEAR FRÄULEIN, + + “You well know how glad I am, when I receive a letter from you. But, + your last contained certain things that make me feel very + uncomfortable, or rather, the whole letter does so. You say, in one + place, that you feel sad, and restless, and cannot sleep; and apart + from this, the letter seems to me agitated throughout: and this it is + that troubles me. + + “I therefore write these few lines to you, to-day; though it is + difficult to converse, and give advice, at the distance of so many + miles, and with so many days’ journey between us. Who knows that you + may not have forgotten it all, and become quite cheerful again, by the + time that this reaches you? And it will be better, so. For you can + then leave it unread, and its purpose will be answered all the same. + + “But if you are still restless, and out of tune, when this arrives, + and, if the English business is to blame for this, I entreat you, my + dear Fräulein, do not let your reasoning power, otherwise so clever + and natural, be troubled by the horrid outcry on this side and on + that, and all the tumults, and all the wretchedness of it. For, after + all, the great advantage of a good conscience here below is, that it + is the one thing of which no one can rob one; that, under its + guidance, one is led through all the quarrelling and fighting on the + way, and attains the goal unhurt; and others wonder at one’s courage, + and one’s wisdom, and Heaven knows what, while it is just the simple + and honest good conscience alone that works all the wonder; and so it + has always been with you, and will be, again and again. + + “I confess that, after all you have told me, I would rather that you + had not promised Lumley to go to England; and, especially, I would + rather that you had not offered Bunn such a sum as you tell me, for + the contract. I am very sorry indeed that you have done this; but, + since you _have_ done it, the thing is settled. And here, again, it is + settled for the best, if only you do not let your rest and peace of + mind be destroyed through it; for you well know that you meant rightly + and nobly. + + “Moreover, I know that you will have warmer friends, and a heartier + welcome, and a greater triumph, in England, than you have perhaps had + anywhere else, and that is saying a great deal. And I know that I + adhere to every word that I have ever said to you about it, in spite + of Bunn, and Covent Garden, and their letters, and the newspaper + articles that have at last become almost too laughable. But I hope + most sincerely that Bunn, and Covent Garden—for, for the moment, they + are one—will not have the face to accept your offer, and to redeem the + contract from you; for what is worth more to them than any amount of + money is, not that you should sing for them, but that you should _not_ + sing for Lumley; and therein lies the whole turmoil. + + “Still, I am quite sure that you will just simply do what is right; + and, resigning yourself to the consequences, be very glad indeed that + you have done right. Of what is politic, and clever, and exceedingly + astute, I know nothing; and you, also, will not care to know anything. + And, as to what could, or should have been done, that is really not + the question—if any question there be. And, apart from all this, what + it is that disquiets and frightens you I cannot imagine. You know + well, that you mean to do your duty; and you may trust me so far as + this, that it is very seldom indeed that the performance of a duty + leads to such happiness and such friends as are awaiting you in + England. You would, I am persuaded, behave just in the same way, if a + host of enemies were waiting for you; but, believe me, they will be + friends. You will be borne on the shoulders of a whole nation—which is + a nation indeed!—and, in the end, you yourself will rejoice in it. + + “I am very unselfish in advising you thus; for it appears to me very + improbable that we shall meet in England. If I go there at all this + year—which is still uncertain—I shall go from here in the beginning of + April, and remain there only till the beginning of May. And you will + hardly be in London before the beginning of May? + + “I had pictured it all to myself so nicely: to show you some of my + favourite places, and make you acquainted with two of my very + particular friends there. But, if this may not be, we shall meet again + soon, somewhere or other; and I am confident that we shall meet again + unaltered.” + +In truth, Mdlle. Lind’s terror was utterly groundless. But for her it +had a fatal significance; and she could not be persuaded that she had, +in reality, nothing to fear, though she was ready to purchase her +immunity by an act of almost Quixotic generosity—an offer of no less +than £2000, for the revocation of the contract—which offer Mr. Bunn +refused to accept. + +This, then, was the state of the controversy, when Mdlle. Lind sang her +last song, at Vienna. + +While, on one side of the Channel, she was tormented with fears for her +own personal safety, Mr. Lumley, on the other, was racked with anxiety, +concerning the fate of Her Majesty’s Theatre, which was literally +hanging in the balance. Who shall say which of the two sufferers endured +the greatest amount of mental torture? Over which of them did the shadow +brood most darkly? + + + + + BOOK VII. + SUPREMACY. + + + + + CHAPTER I. + MANAGERIAL DIFFICULTIES. + + +Her Majesty’s Theatre opened for the season on Tuesday, the 16th of +February, 1847, amidst a sea of doubts and perplexities which might well +have appalled the most courageous _impresario_. + +Though it forms no part of our present purpose to record the disastrous +cabals and suicidal intrigues that seem, unhappily, inseparable from the +life of the theatrical manager “behind the scenes,” it is necessary, for +the clear understanding of our narrative, that the reader should be made +acquainted with the results, at least, of the long series of +disagreements which rendered the government of Her Majesty’s Theatre so +peculiarly difficult, at the eventful period of which we are now +treating. + +For many years past, the Lyric Stage had been ruled with a rod of iron, +by a band of artists of world-wide reputation, who have been not inaptly +described as the _vieille garde_ of the Opera. + +The names of Mesdames Grisi and Persiani, of Signori Rubini, Tamburini, +and Lablache, had become so justly celebrated, throughout the length and +breadth of Europe, and their influence had been so firmly established in +London, Paris, and St. Petersburg, that no manager, however despotic, +could resist their supreme will and pleasure with impunity. + +Against this state of things, Mr. Lumley protested, with an energy that +did him infinite credit, though he had to pay dearly enough, in the long +run, for his determination. + +A disagreement had long been impending, between the management, and +Signor (afterwards Sir Michael) Costa, who had held the responsible +office of Conductor, at Her Majesty’s Theatre, for fully sixteen years. +The dispute reached its climax in 1846; Signor Costa resigned his +appointment; and the vacant post was offered to, and duly accepted by +Mr. Balfe; whereupon the _vieille garde_, feeling themselves attacked in +the person of their _chef d’orchestre_, seceded in a body from the +company, and, with one notable exception, refused to renew their +engagements. Signor Lablache—no less distinguished for his high sense of +honour and integrity than for his magnificent voice and splendid +artistic intelligence and bearing—alone remained faithful to the theatre +which had been the scene of his most brilliant triumphs. Not only did he +refuse to join the coalition; but, from first to last, he did his best +to prevent a rupture between the manager and his company. His kind +offices, however, were thrown away. Signor Rubini had already retired +from the Stage, and was, therefore, in no wise concerned in the quarrel; +but, Mesdames Grisi and Persiani, and Signori Mario and Tamburini, threw +up all connection with the “old house”; and, on Tuesday, the 6th of +April, 1847, inaugurated the first season of the “Royal Italian Opera,” +at Covent Garden, with a magnificent performance of Rossini’s +_Semiramide_. + +It must be confessed, that, for the manager of Her Majesty’s Theatre, +the situation was sufficiently embarrassing. + +Happily for the season of 1847, Mr. Lumley’s energy was never so well +displayed as when he found himself in face of an apparently +insurmountable difficulty. The threatening cloud—sombre enough, in the +first instance, and growing daily darker and darker—was perhaps +necessary for the full display of his managerial capabilities. Still, +the prospect was very gloomy indeed. + +The season had opened on the 16th of February, with Donizetti’s _La +Favorita_, in which the principal parts were sustained by Madame +Sanchioli, and Signori Gardoni, Superchi, and Bouché—the three last +entirely new to the audience at Her Majesty’s Theatre. But, these +attractions offered in competition with the brilliant performances at +Covent Garden were quite insufficient to meet the pressing need. The +only hope of the management lay in the first appearance of Jenny Lind. + +Difficult as the situation was, no one for a moment doubted that the +appearance of the new _prima donna_, at this critical moment, would save +the theatre. Signor Lablache, whose judgment was not to be despised, had +strongly urged the management to engage her; and, some months +previously, had addressed the following letter on the subject to Mr. +Lumley. + + “Naples, October 12, 1846. + + “DEAR MR. LUMLEY,—I learn, with much regret, from your last letter, + that Mdlle. Lind finds some difficulty in coming to London. It is a + great misfortune that this excellent _artiste_ neither knows London, + nor the exceptional position of your theatre for the coming year; for, + she will never find a more favourable moment for her interests, or her + reputation. Try, then, to decide her; and make her understand that she + will find herself surrounded by brothers, and friends, and not by + intriguing _artistes_, as is, unfortunately, too often the case. Her + success is certain. I answer to you for it; and you, who know me, will + understand all that I am prepared to do, myself, to aid it. It is not + only her immense reputation as an _artiste_, that gives me this + conviction; but, the good that is said of her, as a woman. I tell you, + frankly, that I have been, as you know, the friend of Pasta, and the + friend of Malibran; and, that I shall be very proud to be able to say: + ‘I am the friend of Lind.’ If you think it necessary, I will write a + letter to her, myself; and, if she knows me, she cannot fail to put + faith in my words. Forgive me, my dear Mr. Lumley, if I meddle with + your affairs; but, you know my device: ‘Art, before all things.’ Do + not forget me; and remember that you have ever in me, + + “Your wholly devoted + “L. LABLACHE.”[89] + +In the meantime, the position of the manager grew daily more and more +distressing; but, as was his wont, he proved himself equal to the +occasion. Leaving the actual government of the theatre in the hands of a +trusted subordinate, he secretly quitted his post, between the acts of +the Opera, on the last night before the theatre closed for the Easter +recess; hurried away, in his evening dress, to catch the train for +Calais, with barely half an hour to spare for all the preparations +needed for his long journey; travelled, night and day, until he found +himself face to face with the lady of whom he was in search, at Vienna; +and, while those most deeply interested in the success of the scheme +were driven almost to the verge of despair, he had the satisfaction, on +Friday, the 16th of April, of returning to his duties in London, +bringing with him the joyful intelligence that Mdlle. Lind was actually +on her way to England, and that her arrival might be confidently +expected on the following day. + +While the subscribers to the Opera were anxiously awaiting her +appearance, another section of the musical world was thrown into equal +excitement by that of Mendelssohn, who, in response to an invitation +from the Sacred Harmonic Society, came to London, for the tenth and last +time, on the 12th of April, for the purpose of conducting four +performances of his new Oratorio, _Elijah_, at Exeter Hall. + +On the afternoon of Saturday, the 17th of April, 1847, the great +composer, knowing nothing of the negotiations which had been pending +since the beginning of the week, called, by merest accident, on Mrs. +Grote, who had invited Mdlle. Lind to be her guest at her town residence +in Eccleston Street, until the house provided for her at the expense of +the management was ready for her occupation. + +Delighted at the news he heard, Mendelssohn was easily persuaded to stay +until his friend arrived, though the delay seemed interminable, as he +and his hostess walked up and down the western side of Belgrave Square, +keeping the door of the house in Eccleston Street from time to time in +view, and eagerly watching for the appearance of the party. Their +patience was severely tried; but, after waiting three-quarters of an +hour, they were rewarded by the sight of two four-wheeled cabs, heavily +laden with luggage; and, hastening to the door, they lost no time in +welcoming their friend to the country in which she was destined, ere +long, to win a reputation more brilliant and lasting than that attained +by any other singer of the period. + +Mdlle. Lind “looked scared and bewildered;” but brightened visibly under +the influence of the hearty welcome with which she was greeted. The +tired travellers were promptly refreshed. Mendelssohn reluctantly took +leave of the party, after a few minutes’ conversation; and, later in the +evening, after an hour or two of the rest she so sorely needed, the +honoured guest accompanied her host and hostess to their box at Her +Majesty’s Theatre—No. 48, on the Grand Tier. + +A few minutes after the arrival of the party, Mr. Lumley visited the +box; and, later in the evening, Signor Lablache came to pay his respects +to the great _artiste_ whose friendship he had so earnestly desired to +gain. This naturally attracted attention; and, after a little time, +every inquisitive eye in the opposite boxes, every glance from the +stalls, every _lorgnette_ in the vast _auditorium_, was directed towards +the box in which Mdlle. Lind was seated. She seemed, at first, very much +disturbed. Moreover, the size of the _salle_—so much larger than that of +the Opera-Houses at Berlin and Vienna—alarmed her seriously, though the +manager assured her of the well-known fact, that its acoustic properties +were perfect. However, as the evening wore on, she seemed to gain +courage, and evidently took great interest in the performance, to which +she listened attentively throughout; once whispering to her hostess, “I +think I can do as well as that, and perhaps a little better.”[90] + +A few days after this, Mr. and Mrs. Grote gave a dinner-party, for the +purpose of introducing their visitor to a few artistic friends who were +particularly desirous to meet her. Among the guests were Mendelssohn, +Lablache, and Mr. Lumley. In the evening, Mendelssohn sat down to the +piano, and, after improvising for a few minutes, asked Mdlle. Lind to +sing ‘_Auf Flügeln des Gesanges_,’ the song in which she had created so +profound a sensation in Leipzig. She willingly complied; but, from sheer +nervousness, broke down no less completely than she had done when +singing ‘_Perche non ho_’ to Garcia, in Paris. She afterwards explained, +that it was the presence of Lablache that terrified her; though he was +of course quite unconscious of this, and, with his never-failing +good-nature, endeavoured to bring back her courage by singing some of +the amusing Neapolitan ‘_Canzonette_’ in which his graceful humour was +inimitable. Mendelssohn then played again; and, afterwards, Mdlle. Lind, +recovering her confidence, sang one of her characteristic Swedish +melodies; displaying her peculiar talent with such success, that the +company were delighted, and Signor Lablache expressed his admiration +with a warmth which rendered all doubt as to its sincerity impossible. +This was followed by some other songs, sung with equal effect; and the +success of the “private hearing” was felt to be complete. + +Still, the inexplicable dread of a public performance at the theatre +remained as great as ever. Though Mendelssohn called, almost daily, to +encourage his friend, she could neither be persuaded to make +arrangements for a rehearsal, nor to seek an interview with the +conductor—Mr. Balfe; and, at last, she confessed to her hostess that her +terrors were unconquerable, and begged her to intercede with Mr. Lumley +for a withdrawal of the contract. The blow fell heavily; but, the +manager wisely determined to wait; hoping that more mature consideration +would induce her to recognise the necessity for fulfilling her +engagement. And, the event proved that he was right. + +One day, soon afterwards, when the ladies were driving together, Mdlle. +Lind asked how the Opera was getting on. “Not at all,” was the reply: +“it is completely at a standstill. No one will take either a box, or a +stall, in the present state of uncertainty. The public are waiting for +your appearance; and, in the meantime, the manager is losing money every +night.” + +The directness of this answer, every word of which was strictly and +literally true, seemed to take her by surprise. She sat silent, until +the carriage stopped at her friend’s door; and then, before alighting, +said to her, “If you see Mr. Lumley to-night, please tell him that I +will attend at the theatre on Monday next.” It happened, however, that +she herself met Mr. Lumley, that evening, at a dinner-party at the house +of Baron Rehusen, the Swedish Minister, and was thus able to deliver her +own message to the delighted manager. The rehearsal took place on the +day appointed; and, from that moment, all hesitation was at an end. She +entered, with the deepest interest, into the arrangements made for her +approaching _début_. At the rehearsals, which she attended with +never-failing punctuality, she delighted the conductor, and excited the +admiration of all who were associated with her in the performance, +whether on the stage, or in the orchestra. She studied her part—quite +new to her in the Italian language—with untiring diligence. She had +chosen the part of “Alice,” in _Roberto il Diavolo_, for her first +appearance. It was one of her most successful _rôles_, and she felt that +the circumstances connected with her first entrance upon the crowded +stage, in the dress of a Pilgrim, with no important passages to sing +until after the gradual departure of the chorus, would give her time to +collect her energies, if she felt in any degree nervous. Indeed, it +would have been impossible for her to have chosen an Opera better fitted +for the occasion; and all was made ready for her appearance, on the 4th +of May. + + + + + CHAPTER II. + THE TRIUMPH. + + +The excitement of the public, when the fateful day arrived, exceeded +anything that had ever been witnessed by the oldest frequenter of Her +Majesty’s Theatre. + +From an early hour in the afternoon, the colonnade in the Haymarket was +thronged by a crowd of ladies and gentlemen, in evening dress, waiting +patiently to secure good places in the pit. The file of carriages seemed +interminable. When the doors were opened, at half-past seven, the crush +was terrific. Ladies were fairly carried off their feet, and pressed +against the barriers with a force which neither they nor their +protectors had power to resist. Neither in the pit, nor even in the +“three-shilling gallery,” could “standing-room” be found, at any price, +for the disappointed applicants who continued to besiege the doors; and +many of those who had succeeded in effecting an entrance were wedged +into corners from which the stage was invisible. The Queen, the Prince +Consort, the Queen Dowager, and the Duchess of Kent, occupied the Royal +boxes, to the left of the stage. Mendelssohn sat in the stalls, with his +friend, Mr. Grote. And every corner of the house was crowded with the +most brilliant representatives of the talent, the fashion, and the +wealth of London. + +When the curtain rose, the excitement was indescribable; and, a few +minutes afterwards, Mdlle. Lind—dragged on the stage, in her pilgrim’s +dress, by the attendants of Roberto—was received with the burst of +applause which, on the Continent, is usually delayed until the +_débutante_ has won her crown. She seemed both affected and surprised; +but soon recovered her self-possession. + +Fortunately, for some little time after the entrance of “Alice,” the +action is chiefly carried on by “Roberto” and the chorus. This gave +Mdlle. Lind time to collect herself; and when, left alone with the +Prince, she told him that his mother was no more—‘_Concesso, ah! non ti +fia, nè udirla, nè più vederla. Ah! non più vive!_’ the expression of +ineffable sadness with which she invested the touching words produced, +from every part of the house, signs of admiration so genuine, that, it +was clear to all present that her reputation was already assured. + +From this point, to the final descent of the curtain, the performance +was a succession of triumphs. The most experienced critics were taken by +surprise, by the new _prima donna’s_ conception of the part of “Alice,” +exceeding, in poetic beauty, no less than in genuine dramatic power, the +finest impersonation of the character that had hitherto been presented +on the stage. All the stronger emotions successively called forth by the +development of the varied situations, no less than the subordinate +traits needed to unite them into a consistent whole, were delineated +with a truthfulness that carried everything before it, reaching its +natural climax in the Terzetto which immediately precedes the Finale to +the Fifth Act—a scene which Mdlle. Lind made peculiarly her own. Many +years afterwards, the writer ventured to remind Madame Goldschmidt that +she had sung this passage with an expression with which he had never +heard it invested by any other artist. “How could I tell how I sang it?” +she said; “I stood at the man’s right hand, and the Fiend at his left, +and all I could think of was, how to save him.” + +It was this marvellous power of forgetting herself in the character she +impersonated, that formed the basis of all her dramatic success. She +once told Mr. Nassau Senior, who had questioned her on the subject, that +it appeared to her a sort of fraud, if, when she was pretending to be +“Alice,” or “Lucia,” she was thinking of herself. “I scarcely ever think +of the effect I am producing,” she said; “and, if the thought does +sometimes come across me, it spoils my acting. It seems to me, when I +act, that I feel fully all the emotions of the character I represent. I +fancy myself—in fact, believe myself—to be in her situation; and never +think of the audience.” + +It is interesting to compare these remarks with the story—told on page +49—of a sentimental chatterer who once asked Mdlle. Lind what she was +thinking about, while she clung to the wayside Cross, in the famous +scene illustrated in our woodcut. She did not even condescend to explain +how completely she had been absorbed by the fears of the terrified +maiden she was impersonating; but coldly answered, “I suppose I was +thinking of my old bonnet.” And it is doubtful, to this day, whether her +interlocutor did not entirely fail to perceive the withering scorn which +underlay the answer, and take it _au grand sérieux_. + +[Illustration: An engraving of a bearded man in medieval attire pointing +accusingly at a woman kneeling and clinging to a stone cross.] + +When the Opera was over, the Queen, who had repeatedly manifested her +extreme satisfaction during the evening, expressed her admiration to Mr. +Lumley, in a tone and manner that showed how deep an impression had been +made upon her. “What a beautiful singer!” “What an actress!” “How +charming!” “How delightful!” These were the exclamations that fell from +the lips of Her Majesty, “whom,” said the delighted manager, “I had +never before seen thus moved to enthusiasm.”[91] + +In describing this interesting conversation with Her Majesty, we have +been careful to repeat the exact words used by Mr. Lumley himself. But +we have more to say. + +From a source of the highest authority,[92] we are enabled to confirm +his account of the deep impression produced upon Her Majesty. The +qualities of Mdlle. Lind’s voice, at once delicate and powerful, round, +soft, flexible, the charm of her appearance, her touching natural +acting, and the grace of her movements, were all keenly appreciated by +this accomplished musician and sensitive critic. Every one was struck by +Mdlle. Lind’s acting of the scene with Bertram, where she clung to the +Cross as a Divine safeguard; but, the beautiful impulse, unnoticed by +many, under which she fell down on her knees, during the concluding +chorus, to give thanks for Roberto’s safety, did not escape the +observation of the Queen, and drew from Her Majesty an expression of +warm admiration. + +The whole performance, indeed, called forth one long-sustained ovation. +Nothing was left to be desired. There could be no fear for the future, +now, whatever attractions the rival company might put forth. The +management was saved; for the triumph was as lasting as it was complete. + +On the following day, the leading London newspaper criticised the +performance in terms which showed an intelligent and thoroughly artistic +appreciation of its merits. + + “If our expectations were great, we must say that they were more than + realised. The delicious quality of the organ—the rich gushing tone—was + something entirely new and fresh. The auditors did not know what to + make of it. They had heard singers over and over again, but here, that + wondrous thing, a new sensation, was actually created. The sustained + notes, swelling with full richness, and fading down to the softest + _piano_, + +without losing one iota of their quality, being delicious when loud, +delicious when whispered, dwelt in the public ear, and reposed in the +public heart. The shake, _mezzo voce_, with which she concluded the +pretty air, ‘_Quand je quittais la Normandie_,’ was perfectly wonderful +from its rapidity and equality. This air was rapturously encored, with +the most enthusiastic waving of hats and handkerchiefs. Even the way in +which she uttered the first two or three notes of her Romance, ‘_Va +dit-elle_,’ so completely took the audience by surprise, that they +interrupted her progress, and forced her to stop, by their tumultuous +applause. + +“And the impression she made as an actress was no less profound. There +is no conventionality about her—no seizing the strong points of a +character, and letting the rest drop. She acts thoroughly, with a +perfect naturalness, and an infinite variety of gesture. All seems +dictated by the moment, and yet all is graceful. There is no stereotyped +form for love, or anger, or what not; but all has the impulse of +immediate inspiration. As striking points, we may mention the clinging +to the Cross when attacked by Bertram, and the expression of rapture, +just before the final descent of the curtain, when she feels that she +has saved Robert from perdition. Her whole conception of Alice is a fine +histrionic study, of which every feature is equally good. + +“On the fall of the curtain, the burst of applause showed that the +anticipations of the audience had been more than satisfied. Three +distinct times was Mdlle. Lind called upon the stage; and it was with a +certain hearty ‘one cheer more’ sort of feeling which we have never seen +so strongly manifested.”[93] + + + + + CHAPTER III. + AT CLAIRVILLE. + + +Some little time before her first appearance, while the rehearsals were +still in progress, Mademoiselle Lind quitted the residence of her +friend, in Eccleston Street, to take possession of a detached cottage, +pleasantly situated, in its own grounds, at Old Brompton. It will be +remembered that, by the terms of her contract with Mr. Lumley, she was +to be provided with a furnished residence, at the expense of the +management; and, of all the houses she had seen, “Clairville Cottage,” +as it was then called, was the only one that seemed to please her. +Though small and unpretending, it was both comfortable, and convenient; +it was within a moderate drive of the theatre; and the neighbourhood in +which it stood—now absorbed in the new district of South Kensington—was +sufficiently retired to ensure the privacy which, indeed, formed one of +its principal attractions. + +Nearly all the old houses in this part of Old Brompton have long since +been pulled down; and the actual site of Clairville Cottage and its +pretty suburban garden is now occupied by one of the more modern and +much larger residences in Brechin Place, the ground on which it stood +forming part of a quadrangle, bounded by Brechin Place on its northern +and southern sides, by the Gloucester Road, on its eastern side, and on +that towards the west, by Rosary Gardens. + +But, though all trace of the cottage itself has vanished, its name is +perpetuated, in somewhat dubious orthography, in Clareville Grove—a road +leading northwards from a spot near its former site; and a relic of the +garden still remains, in the form of a tall and handsome plane tree, +overhanging the Old Brompton Road, in front of Brechin Place, and +vigorously flourishing within two minutes’ walk of the house in which +Madame Goldschmidt spent the last twelve years of her life. It was a +less splendid tree, in 1847, than it is now, but she loved it all the +more, for the birds sang there, undisturbed, among the branches from +which the busy traffic of the road has now banished them. + +Here, within full view of this well-beloved tree, and an equally-beloved +magnolia, while all London was wild with curiosity to peer into the +minutest details of her private life, the “Swedish Nightingale”—as all +the world now delighted to call her—passed her time in almost monastic +seclusion, diligently employed in the study of her new parts, and +visited only by a select circle of intimate and sympathetic friends, +whose society afforded her far greater and more genuine pleasure than +she could ever have found in the gay and fashionable world that was +vainly striving to intrude upon her solitude, and employing every +cunning device that ingenuity could suggest to attract her within its +vortex. + +Never before had _prima donna_ created so profound a sensation among all +classes of society. + +In every mouth, the name of “The Swedish Nightingale” was “familiar as a +household word.” It is not too much to say that all London was raving +about her—and not all London only; for “the Jenny Lind fever,” as some +of the more vulgar organs of the Press affected to call it, extended to +the remotest corner of the Kingdom. + +We have before us, as we write, a rough “broadside,” printed, on +commonest paper, with worn-out type, by “F. Hodges, from Pitts, +Wholesale Toy and Marbel Warehouse, 31 Dudley Street, Seven Dials,” and +headed, in huge capitals:— + + “THE JENNY LIND MANIA.” + + At the top of a double column of verses is a rude woodcut, possibly + meant, on this occasion to represent a ballad-singer, though it had no + doubt done duty, many a time and oft, in bygone days, for something + else; and thus begin the rhymes:— + + “Oh! is there not a pretty fuss + In London all around, + About the Swedish Nightingale, + The talk of all the town? + Each Square and Street, as through you pass, + Aloud with praises ring, + About this pretty singing bird, + The famous Jenny Lind. + + CHORUS. + + “For she turns each heart, and turns each head, + Of those who hear her sing, + And she is turning all her notes to gold + Is famous Jenny Lind.” + +Eight stanzas of this execrable doggrell fill up the sheet, which we +should not care to notice, were it not an historical fact that such +sheets were sold, and such verses sung, in the by-streets of London, +from morning till night. + +Mr. Albert Smith, the well-known humourist and lecturer on Mont Blanc, +has contributed to the literature of the period a chapter, describing +the scenes at the pit-door, and illustrated by a series of sketches, +depicting the adventures of “Mr. Straggles,” who, appearing first, in +all the glories of irreproachable evening costume, passes, afterwards, +through a succession of changes which cause him to figure, in the final +_tableau_, with his dress coat torn open from top to bottom, the bow of +his cravat protruding behind his neck, his _lorgnette_ crushed beneath a +fellow-enthusiast’s foot, and his ‘_gibus_’—represented in six +successive stages of deterioration—reduced to a wiry skeleton. + +Between nine and ten o’clock, on the morning after her _début_, Mdlle. +Lind appeared in Eccleston Street, before her friend had risen; and sat +by her bed-side, “with a radiant countenance,” discussing the events of +the previous evening. + +“Are you content with last night?” asked Mrs. Grote. + +“More than content,” she replied. “What a fine public!” + +On the same day, she wrote to her friend, Frau von Jaeger, at Vienna:— + + “London, 5th of May, 1847. + + “DEAREST MOTHER, + + “It is high time that I should send you a word; and, first of all, + that I should thank you for all that you have done for me, and for all + your good advice, and assure you that I shall never forget anything, + and that my sincere love for you, and for all of you, will remain, + through all the time to come, the only recompense that one can give to + another, in exchange for such sympathy and friendship as I have + received from you. + + “You well know that I cannot express what I feel. If I could, then + many many words would follow. But, I feel my own weakness; and say, + only, ‘Thank you, beloved Mother, for the second most beautiful three + months in my life!’ The first were those I spent with the Wichmanns in + the previous winter. These six months have been the happiest for me, + and I can offer you no better word than ‘Thanks!’ But, I must thank my + dear sister also, for having always been so kind to me. That she was + never jealous is a proof of the goodness of her heart. My father was— + my father! I love him, too, as if I were really his daughter. And + Fritz can also say whether I have been as a sister to him, or not. + There, then, you have my confession of love: and, if we do not see + each other again, for fifty years, time can never change my feelings. + + “Dear Mother! What else have I to tell you! Perhaps you expect to hear + that I have lost my personal freedom, or something of that sort? _Mon + Dieu! Mon Dieu!_ How splendidly has everything gone with me!—the + journey included! + + “Yesterday, the 4th of May, I made my first appearance here, as + ‘Alice,’ in _Robert_—and it went so, that, through the whole night, I + could not sleep, for joy! To my astonishment, I found the English + public in the highest degree sympathetic and intelligent; and + yesterday evening was grand. From the Queen, down to the + scene-shifters, all here have been good to me, and so friendly, that I + do not feel in the least like a stranger—and this says a great deal, + for I am ever thinking of Vienna. Everything has gone with me ten + thousand times better than I expected; and I have neither seen, nor + heard, anything about Mr. Bunn. I think he will institute a law-suit— + only, his position in the matter has taken such a comical turn, that I + am almost beginning to feel sorry for him. + + “Lablache has been so good to me, that I feel quite moved. He behaves + as no one but a great Artist like himself could behave. Lumley’s + attention, and friendliness, are not to be doubted, and make me hope + that my mother, and many others, have been mistaken in him. I hear so + much about him—and it all pleases me. But, more about this in the + future, if he always acts as he is acting now. + + “Louise was so frightened, yesterday, about my first appearance that + she has a headache which confines her to bed. But she sends you hearty + greetings. But, my calmness was quite wonderful! What a joy, to be + able so to conquer one’s five senses! How can I ever sufficiently + thank God for it, Mother! + + “We live most delightfully, rather far from the city, where all is + still and restful, the air splendid, and a garden in which the birds + are singing the whole day long. And the trees are so fresh and green. + I have a house all to myself, and a first-rate man-servant, who speaks + German, and an Englishwoman who does the other work of the house— + Lennie, and his sister, and her husband, who are everything that is + good to me. Friendly faces, wherever I look. So, you see, mother, that + I want for nothing. + + “I think so much of Vienna. I feel certain that it will not be long + before I once more visit the Imperial City. It is too dear to me; and + Germany is my second Fatherland, and Vienna, my favourite home. + + “But I must leave off now; for I believe some people are coming to + congratulate me. + + “I have one thing to beg of you, mother. Do you personally know the + Countess Schönborn? Ah! Go to her, and tell her, and her sister, the + Countess Ruenburg, that I send them my best remembrances, and have + ever the liveliest recollection of their kindness to me. And tell them + how well everything has gone with me. I know it will interest the two + Countesses, to hear this; and I will soon write to them, myself, about + it. Tell them this. + + “And I beg my good Herr Julius Pechvill to call upon my good Signor + Battaglia, and to tell him that my Italian pronunciation has been so + successful, that Lablache was quite astonished at it. + + “And now farewell! farewell! Remember me to all—all who are yours, and + all who are not yours. With joy, and thankful love, thinks of you all + + “Your daughter, + “JENNY. + + “Will my mother, or Augusta, soon write to me? I long so for news of + you all.”[94] + +To Judge Munthe she wrote, five days later:— + + “London, May 10th, 1847. + + “It is always a pleasure to write to my good guardian and fatherlike + friend; but, this time, I write with a lighter heart than usual, + because I have succeeded so well in this my last undertaking, which + was, to make my way here in London, in spite of all the difficulties + and intrigues that people have tried to throw in my way. + + “I appeared, as ‘Alice,’ in _Roberto il Diavolo_, on the 4th of this + month, and I cannot describe the sympathy and enthusiasm with which I + was received—and, to my astonishment, well understood! + + “I am so happy, and find things so pleasant, that there is perhaps no + being under the sun so happy as I.” + +It is pleasant to see, that, by this time, the dark shadow had so +completely lost its terrors that it could be mentioned even with +playfulness; and, that poor Mr. Bunn’s position had become so “comical” +as almost to inspire a feeling of sorrow for him. And it is pleasant, +too, to find that, notwithstanding the sinister influence exercised by +that dark shadow in Vienna, it had not been dark enough to cloud the +happiness, or sadden the memory of the bright sojourn in the Austrian +Capital. + +A letter, written to Madame Birch-Pfeiffer, on Thursday, the 6th of May— +two days after the _début_—contains a still more touching allusion to +Vienna than that addressed to Frau von Jaeger, and speaks so pleasantly +of London, and its climate, and inhabitants, that its contents can +scarcely fail to interest the reader. + + “London, the 6th of May, 1847. + + “GOOD MOTHER, + + “It is a long long time since I have heard anything from you; and I am + longing earnestly for news. + + “You must not be angry with me for writing so little to you from + Vienna. For, my only excuse is, that I was simply torn to pieces, + there. + + “But, you are ever in my heart, as of old, good mother and friend. + + “The day before yesterday, I made my first appearance here, at the + Italian Opera, as ‘Alice’ in _Roberto_, and _never_, perhaps, have + things gone better with me, _in every way_, than here. What do you say + to that? + + “I am so glad, so happy, so thankful, that I hardly know what I am + doing. + + “The theatre is splendid, and I have never been in such good voice. + The climate is—for me, at least—very good; and, apart from all this, I + am so glad, because every one here is so friendly to me that I am + quite touched. + + “Lablache is like a father to me; and Mr. Lumley, like a good and true + old friend. + + “Are you going to Vienna? If so, remember me to Herr Pokorny and his + amiable wife, and my other friends; and tell them that I thank them, + from my heart, for all their kindness to me. + + “And to the Imperial City, say, amidst the still silence, that there + lives a maiden, born in Sweden, who would gladly call Vienna the City + of Her Fathers. Oh! my Vienna! Oh! my Viennese! Oh! my heart swells, + when I think of all that happened to me, there!” + +These delightful recollections of a past time did not, however, prevent +Mdlle. Lind from thinking tenderly for others, in the present. + +In a letter written to her from Leipzig, soon after her engagement at +Her Majesty’s Theatre had been finally ratified, Mendelssohn had asked +her, when she visited London, to sing to a friend of his, who had long +been laid upon a bed of sickness. This lady was Mrs. Seth Thompson, the +daughter of the well-known Organist and Glee Composer, Mr. William +Horsley. Well knowing how dearly Mrs. Thompson would prize such an act +of kindness, Mendelssohn, as the time approached, sent her a letter, +announcing the pleasure that was in store for her; and the remembrance +of Mdlle. Lind’s visit to the invalid lady, and of the songs with which +she cheered and comforted her, is still affectionately cherished by her +family, and that of Mr. Horsley. + +But what a change had passed over her life, within the last few weeks! +How different her thoughts, now, and at the moment at which she took +leave of her Austrian friends. She had conquered her fears, and was +already reaping the rich reward of her moral victory. The fate of Her +Majesty’s Theatre no longer hung in the balance. She had saved its +Manager from ruin. For the remainder of the season, the position of the +“Old Italian Opera” was impregnable; and she alone had made it so. All +doubts as to her reception by an English audience had been set at rest. +The dread, the suspense, the cruel threats that had caused her such +torments of anxiety, had vanished like a dream. For a time, at least, +the “sable cloud” had “turned forth its silver lining on the night”; and +all around was light, and joy, and peace, and hope for the happy future. + + + + + CHAPTER IV. + “LA SONNAMBULA.” “LA FIGLIA DEL REGGIMENTO.” + + +From this time forward Mdlle. Lind was greeted in London, by all classes +of society, with the most flattering marks of esteem and admiration. The +Queen received her with marked attention. The Queen-Dowager invited her +to visit Her Majesty in private. The Duke of Wellington was most +sedulous in his demonstrations of respect and admiration, and, on one +occasion, invited her to his country-seat, promising that music should +form no topic of the conversation. Invitations poured in, from every +side, in numbers which it would have been quite impossible for her to +have accepted, even had her time been entirely at her own disposal. But, +though compelled by her duties at the theatre to devote so many hours of +the day to study and rehearsal, she did not entirely shut herself out +from the pleasures of society. Mrs. Grote, who accompanied her one +evening to a private concert at Lansdowne House to which she had been +invited as an auditor, gives an interesting account, in her MS. +_Memoir_, of the excitement caused by her first appearance in the +reception-room, when, at the moment of her entrance, all other visitors +were forgotten, in the desire to meet her with a cordial welcome. + + “I was not a little amused,” she says, “to observe the Duke of + Wellington approach, with the intention of making his bow to Lady + Lansdowne; but, finding it hopeless to catch her attention—so + engrossed was she with Mdlle. Lind—he quietly passed unnoticed into + the Sculpture Gallery, where a vocal concert was about to commence. I + at length proposed to Jenny that we should take our places there, + also; and we soon found ourselves in the middle of a brilliant + company, whose eyes were frequently bent in the direction of our + seats. Jenny, who was always very impatient under this kind of + scrutiny, felt vexed at it; but there was no escape. The concert + proceeded; the artists comprising all the ‘stars’ of the two rival + houses, herself only excepted. The first part over, I was besieged by + persons of my acquaintance, with requests to be introduced to Mdlle. + Lind: Lady Pembroke, and her daughter-in-law, Mrs. Sidney Herbert, + Lady Lincoln, with one or two other ladies obtained the privilege, and + continued to talk to her, until Jenny, impatient to escape, whispered + to me, ‘Let us go and look at the pictures.’ So we went into the rooms + through which we had entered, and looked at the pictures, which + interested her far more than the music. Meanwhile, the concert had + re-commenced, so that we could not resume our places conveniently; + accordingly Jenny begged me to go away, which we presently did. As we + drove home to Clairville, I expressed myself highly satisfied with the + flattering attentions of which she had been the object during the + evening. She rejoined: ‘Dear Madame, you are much more proud for me + than I am for myself. It certainly was a splendid sight; but I would + rather have been rambling with you among the Burnham beeches, after + all.’” + +The rambles under the fine old Burnham beech trees, near Mr. Grote’s +country-house, furnished, indeed, a pleasant and highly needful relief +to the fatigues of the season, which were very trying to her. + + +_La Sonnambula_ was announced for performance for the first time, on +Tuesday, the 13th of May. + +Never, perhaps, was Mdlle. Lind’s detestation of all that bore the stamp +of unreality more strongly marked than in this charming Opera. She could +not endure a sham—though, the temptation to do so, here, must have been +very great. + +In the last act of _La Sonnambula_, Amina, walking in her sleep, crosses +a crazy wooden bridge, spanning a mill-stream, and hanging in the air, +directly over a revolving water-wheel. As she reaches the middle of this +frail structure, the worm-eaten planks give way—or rather, by an +ingenious stage-device, appear to give way—beneath her feet. She starts— +lets the lamp she holds in her hand fall into the stream—and then, +without awaking, calmly proceeds on her way, down a rude flight of +steps, to the front of the stage, where, taking from her bosom the faded +flowers that Elvino has given to her, she sings the beautiful air, ‘_Ah! +non credea mirarti_,’ which forms one of the most attractive movements +of the _Finale_. + +The danger of crossing the mimic bridge is, perhaps, less real than +apparent, when proper precautions are taken to ensure the singer’s +safety. But, it is a dangerous walk, for a nervous _prima donna_; and +very few of our greatest singers have ever attempted it. The usual plan +is, to dress up a poor little “supernumerary” in clothes exactly like +those of the real representative of “Amina”; to let her perform the +perilous feat of crossing the bridge; and, after she has dropped her +lamp, and displaced some of the loose stones lying at the edge of her +path, to let her pass behind a projecting piece of rock, arranged for +the purpose, and there change places with the real _prima donna_, who +emerges on the opposite side of the cunningly-constructed screen, and is +supposed, by the audience, to have performed the entire journey in her +own proper person. + +[Illustration: A circular engraving of a woman in a white dress holding +a lit candle and reaching toward a stone structure, with hills in the +background.] + +But Mdlle. Lind would never consent to cheat her audience thus. She once +told the writer, when conversing with him on the events of that +memorable time, that she had never, in her life, let any one cross the +bridge for her—not because she was more courageous than other +representatives of the village somnambulist; for, she confessed to +having been horribly frightened, every time that she had to undergo the +trying ordeal—but because, she said, “I should have been ashamed to +stand before the audience, pretending that I had crossed the bridge, if +I had not really done it.” + +So, the boards were marked with chalk, to show the exact lines between +which Amina was to walk; and a circle was drawn, at the spot at which +the bridge was to give way beneath her, so that she might not be taken +unprepared. But, these precautions formed a less efficient safeguard +than might have been imagined; for, she had heard that somnambulists +always walked straight forward, without looking at their feet, and she +risked a fall, night after night, in order that she might act her part +with perfect truth to nature. + +But her nervous fears did not prevent her from singing her best; for, +during the course of the same conversation, she told the writer, that, +accidentally looking down at Mr. Balfe, while she was singing ‘_Ah! non +credea_,’ she saw that his face was bathed in tears. And he, we may be +sure, was not the only listener thus moved by her rendering of that most +lovely movement—one of the purest and most touchingly plaintive strains +of melody that the modern Italian School has produced. + +No one witnessed Mdlle. Lind’s first performance of “Amina” with more +rapt attention than the Queen. She was there from the beginning. The +‘_Come per me sereno_,’ with its brilliant opportunities for showing off +the voice, was a little too full of ornament altogether to satisfy Her +Majesty’s taste; but she expressed unbounded admiration of all that +followed, dwelling strongly, according to our information, upon “the +exquisite shake, the wonderful clear, sweet _piano_ way of singing in +the very highest tones, without losing any of their fulness and +freshness.” The ‘_Son geloso_’ and ‘_Prendi l’anel_,’ were felt to be +full of a new beauty. But a charm, as exquisite, as it was novel, was +recognised by the Royal listener in the soft, touching, half-whispered +tones in which “Amina” sang in the scene where she enters the Count’s +apartment asleep. Again, the dignified way in which she delivered in the +subsequent scene the words, ‘_Rea non sono, no, la fui giammai_,’ giving +as it did the idea of complete innocence was noted as exceptionally +fine. In this, as indeed throughout the whole performance, the singer +was recognised by the Queen as speaking from the heart to the heart. + +Of her singing of the Recitative and Adagio, ‘_Ah! non credea mirarti_,’ +Signor Lablache said to the Queen, “_Je dois dire que je n’ai jamais +rien entendu comme cela_.” In this opinion, according to our +information, Her Majesty heartily concurred. She was present, along with +the Prince Consort, when _La Sonnambula_ was performed for the second +time on Saturday the 15th of May. All Her Majesty’s first impressions +were more than confirmed. She spoke with enthusiasm as Lablache had done +of the ‘_Ah, non credea_.’ “It was all _piano_,” she said, “and clear +and sweet, and like the sighing of a zephyr, yet all heard. Who could +describe those long notes, drawn out till they quite melt away, that +shake which becomes softer and softer, those very piano and flute-like +notes—and those round fresh tones which are so youthful?”[95] + +To an English, no less than to a Continental audience, _La Sonnambula_ +had ever been welcome; and the nameless charm with which that part was +now invested, the enchantment thrown over it by the perfection of Mdlle. +Lind’s ideal interpretation of each change and phase of sentiment that +rendered its impersonation more life-like and complete, seemed to make +the work a greater favourite than ever. The audience were never tired of +it. Throughout the season, it was given, again and again, with the +certainty of a crowded house, and a triumphant success; and it was not +until after its fourth performance, in alternation with four +performances of _Roberto il Diavolo_, that the management thought it +necessary to announce the production of another Opera. + +The new Opera was one entirely unknown, at that time, in England; though +we have had occasion to mention it, more than once, in connection with +other countries, during the course of our narrative. + +It will be remembered, that during Mdlle. Lind’s short but serious +illness, at Berlin, in February, 1845, _Die Regimentstochter_ had been +presented, with Fräulein Tuczec in the principal part. + +Before that time, Mdlle. Lind herself had never undertaken the part of +“Marie”; but, as we have already seen, she appeared in it, at Stockholm, +on the 9th of June, 1845, with such success, that the Opera was +redemanded on every remaining night but one of the summer season—in all, +eight times. Since then, it had become a special favourite, in almost +every town she visited; and, though the critics of Berlin had not yet +had an opportunity of passing their verdict upon it, it had created an +absolute _furore_, both at Munich and Vienna. It remained now, to test +its capability of attracting the sympathies of an English audience, +already predisposed to regard it with favour; and, if it were possible +to invent a stronger word than _furore_ for the purpose of describing +the result of the experiment, such a word would certainly not be +misplaced. + +It is not a great work—nor does it pose as one; it betrays no true +nobility of purpose; no trace of poetical inspiration, in any one of its +scenes, from first to last. How then, it may fairly be asked, did Mdlle. +Lind succeed in making it one of the most charming and deservedly +popular of her parts? + +The question is a very natural one—and the answer equally so. + +She breathed a living soul into the form that had left the laboratory of +its inventors without one; and substituted this for the jointed +lay-figure, the soulless automaton, embodied in the score. And, in her +impersonation of the bewitching little heroine into whom this guileless +soul had been breathed, the whole interest of the Opera was absorbed. +She did not—as the critics would have said—content herself with +“creating the _rôle_ of ‘Maria’;” she “created” the whole work. No one +gave a thought to the other members of the _dramatis personæ_. The piece +was absolutely devoid of attraction, when she was absent from the stage. +But, the moment she appeared she held her audience spell-bound. + +Never, we may safely say, in the whole history of Art was so brilliant +and so legitimate a triumph produced, with such slender means for its +foundation. All that was beautiful and attractive, all that was natural +and touching in the part, was infused into it by the genius of its +interpreter—a genius imaginative enough to invent a _rôle_, full of +piquant prettinesses, and abounding in points of perfectly legitimate +interest, as a substitute for one that was absolutely colourless—and +bold enough to present this charming ideal to the public, with such +power of truthfulness, such variety of dramatic effect, such marked +individuality of character, that, from first to last, the audience never +felt the slightest temptation to wish that the plot of the story, or the +_libretto_ founded upon it, or the music adapted to the _libretto_, had +been in any respect other than they really were. And this manifestation +of dramatic truthfulness addressed itself to all the world; to the +ignorant, no less than to the learned; to gentle and simple; to rich and +poor; to each and all alike. So true to Nature was the enchanting +picture of Maria, that it had something to say to every one. And so it +came to pass, that, of all the Operas presented, during this eventful +season, _La Figlia del Reggimento_ was the one that spoke most plainly +to the general public, and became the greatest favourite with the outer +world. + +We have heard the Germans speak of Mdlle. Lind, as the “Priestess of +Art.” It was as the “Priestess of Nature” that she won the hearts of +“the people.” + + + + + CHAPTER V. + THE QUEEN’S STATE VISIT TO THE OPERA. + + +The evening of Tuesday, the 15th of June, 1847, was a memorable one, in +the annals of Her Majesty’s Theatre. + +On that night, the Queen and the Prince Consort honoured the old +historic Opera-House with a State visit; and, “by Royal command,” Mdlle. +Lind appeared, for the first time in England, in the part of “Norma.” + +Every conceivable care had been taken, by the management, to prepare a +fitting reception for its august visitors. No expense had been spared, +and no artistic detail neglected, which could add to the convenience of +the Royal guests, or the magnificence of the entertainment. + +As early as half-past three o’clock, several parties had assembled at +the various entrances of the theatre; and the doors were opened half an +hour earlier than usual. Crowds of Her Majesty’s loyal subjects thronged +Pall Mall, and greeted the Queen _en route_ to the theatre, where Her +Majesty was received with a flourish of trumpets, by the band of the +Guards, and with cheers, by those assembled at the doors. + +Precisely at eight o’clock, the Queen entered the Royal box, with His +Royal Highness, Prince Albert, accompanied by their suite; when, +instantaneously, the band struck up “God save the Queen,” which was sung +by the leading members of the _troupe mélodieuse_, Madame Castellan +singing the last verse. The applause at the conclusion was genuine, and +enthusiastic. Her Majesty, having gracefully acknowledged the cheers and +plaudits of her loyal subjects inside the house, sat down: and the +performance began. + +Mdlle. Lind’s interpretation of the part of the “Druid Priestess,” was +as remarkable for its superb vocalisation, as its beautifully impressive +reading of the _rôle_. On her _entrée_, she was received with the same +marks of genuine approbation as on other occasions, and these were +renewed, at every pause in the music, until, at the close of the Opera, +the applause became absolutely deafening. + +Immediately after the _Divertissement_ which followed, the National +Anthem was again sung, when Her Majesty, her Royal Consort, and their +suite, left the theatre. + +The performance was, in every way, a brilliant and successful one. But, +the London newspapers were divided in their opinion of the respective +merits of Mdlle. Lind’s conception of the part, and that with which +Madame Grisi had so long made them familiar. The fairest _critiques_ +gave high meed of praise to both; but, though Mdlle. Lind’s “Norma” was +one of her most successful _rôles_ on the Continent, it is incontestable +that it was less popular in England than either that of “Amina” or +“Alice.” _The Times_, and _The Illustrated London News_, analysed the +new ideal of the character with keenest perception of its beauties, and +just discrimination between the merits of the two possible +interpretations of the _rôle_. _The Athenæum_, and _The Musical World_, +characterised the entire performance as an ignoble failure, and enforced +their own views in the strongest terms they could command. + +Which of the two opposing verdicts may we venture to accept as the true +one? + +Mons. Roger, the famous French tenor, in an autobiographical sketch, +published some years ago, in Paris,[96] leads us to believe that his +view of this particular case coincided with that of the critics of _The +Athenæum_ and _The Musical World_; though, with regard to other equally +important _rôles_, he finds no words too strong to express his unbounded +admiration for Mdlle. Lind’s genius and personality. + +On the other hand, since the issue of our earlier Editions, we have +received a confirmation of the opposite opinion as gratifying as it was +unexpected, emanating from a very high authority indeed—the highest, +perhaps, that it would be possible to quote. + +At an evening party given by Signor Mario, at S. Petersburg, in the year +1849, Madame Grisi, in the course of a conversation with His Excellency, +the Count de Bylandt, who was then attached as first Secretary to the +Netherlands Legation at S. Petersburg, expressed her opinion of Mdlle. +Lind’s impersonation of the _rôle_ of “Norma,” in the following +remarkable words:— + + “I long thought there was only one ‘Norma’ in the world, and that was + myself! But, since I heard Jenny Lind sing the same part, I must + confess that there are two ‘Normas,’ quite different in conception, + but, equally true, equally genuine, equally perfect; and I now very + much hesitate to say which of the two I believe to be the best.” + +It gives us unfeigned pleasure to be able to record these generous +words, uttered in self-evident artistic enthusiasm, by the great _prima +donna_, while her European reputation was still at its zenith, and at +the very time when, by a certain section of the press, she was made to +pose as Mdlle. Lind’s proudest and most implacable rival; and we owe our +best thanks to the Count de Bylandt for permitting us to reproduce them, +exactly as they were addressed to him by Madame Grisi herself. + + + + + CHAPTER VI. + “LA TEMPESTA.” “I MASNADIERI.” + + +Though Her Majesty’s State visit to the Opera-House may be fairly said +to have marked the culminating point of interest in Mdlle. Lind’s first +London season, it by no means represented the last, or even the greatest +of her triumphs. + +But, before describing her later successes, it is necessary that we +should recur, for a moment, to a subject which continued to excite the +interest of the musical world, long after those whom it most intimately +concerned had given up all hope of bringing it to a satisfactory +conclusion. + +When we last spoke of Mendelssohn’s promise to compose an Opera for Her +Majesty’s Theatre, with the principal part assigned to Mdlle. Lind, and +written expressly for her, it seemed just possible that the idea might +be carried out and the work completed in time for performance during the +season of 1847. But, as time went on, it became evident that the project +must be abandoned. The difficulty with regard to the choice of a +_libretto_ proved to be insurmountable. Many subjects were proposed— +among others, Shakespeare’s _Tempest_—but Mendelssohn was dissatisfied +with them all; and, as the season was now too far advanced to admit of +farther delay, the scheme fell to the ground. + +The crisis was a serious one; for, a new Opera had been formally +promised to the subscribers. But, Mr. Lumley’s managerial talent never +showed itself to greater advantage, than when brought face to face with +some insurmountable difficulty; and the failure of his endeavours to +procure a new Opera from Mendelssohn, for the season of 1847, served +only to excite him to greater exertions than ever, in the cause of his +beloved theatre. + +If Mendelssohn could not provide him with a finished work in time for +immediate production, some other composer must be found who could. + +The composer fixed upon was Verdi; and the plot of Schiller’s well-known +play, _Die Räuber_, was selected for the substituted work. A _libretto_, +founded on this subject, had already been prepared, by the popular +Italian poet, Andrea Maffei; and Verdi had fortunately completed the +music in time to meet the manager’s great need of a new work—failing the +production of which, he would not have fulfilled the promise made to his +subscribers at the beginning of the season. + +The new Opera was produced, on Thursday, the 22nd of July, under the +title of _I Masnadieri_. + + “The Opera was highly successful,” says the _Illustrated London News_— + the most important, and the most impartial Art-journal of the day. + “The talented _Maestro_, on appearing in the orchestra to conduct his + clever work, was received with three rounds of applause. He was called + before the curtain, after the first and third acts, and at the + conclusion of the Opera, amidst the most vehement plaudits. The house + was crowded to excess, and was honoured by the presence of Her + Majesty, Prince Albert, the Queen Dowager, and the Duchess of + Cambridge.” + +Yet, in spite of the favourable tone of this, and other critiques, _I +Masnadieri_, though it furnished Mdlle. Lind with the material for one +of her most brilliant triumphs, was, in itself, a _fiasco_. In _La +Figlia del Reggimento_, she triumphed so completely over the inherent +weakness of the _libretto_ and the commonplace character of the music, +that the piece retained its place on the stage as long as she herself +remained to sing in it. But, in _La Figlia del Reggimento_, she +represented the entire Opera. She was its life, and soul; the whole +interest of it was centred in her impersonation of the little +_Vivandière_; the other characters were merest puppets. The public +thronged the theatre, to hear Jenny Lind—not to see Donizetti’s Opera. + +In the _Masnadieri_, the case was widely different. She could have saved +it, no doubt, if she could have absorbed the whole interest of the piece +in her own part. But this was impossible. In so far as the plot of _Die +Räuber_ is concerned, Schiller himself has invested his heroine with no +predominating traits of character which could raise her to a position of +all-absorbing interest in the development of his story—no +strongly-marked individuality which could enable even the genius of +Mademoiselle Lind to save the Opera, by clothing a comparatively +colourless part with a nobler conception than it was intrinsically +capable of assuming. + +And so it was, that _I Masnadieri_ survived but the three +representations courteously accorded to a _succès d’estime_, and +furnished but a sorry substitute for the promised _Tempesta_ of +Mendelssohn. + + + + + CHAPTER VII. + “LE NOZZE DI FIGARO.” + + +The last new part in which Mdlle. Lind appeared, during the London +season of 1847, was that of “Susanna,” in Mozart’s ever-welcome _Nozze +di Figaro_. + +The change, from the sombre gloom of Schiller’s ghastly tragedy, to the +airy brightness of the most perfect lyric comedy that the school of +Vienna had ever given to the world, was a startling one indeed. A more +convincing proof of the versatility of the singer’s genius could +scarcely have been given, had such a proof been needed. + +The music of Mozart needs a special talent for its perfect +interpretation; and Mdlle. Lind sang it as she felt quite certain that +Mozart himself would have wished to hear it sung. She had studied it +profoundly, and frankly identified herself with its spirit, both in +connection with the stage, and with the concert-room. So great was her +admiration of the master, that she always spoke of him as “the divine +Mozart” (_der göttliche Mozart_). + +A critic who carefully analysed _Le Nozze di Figaro_ some forty years +after its production, arrived at the conclusion, that Mozart had +“changed into real passion the trifling incidents which, in +Beaumarchais’ comedy, only amused the amiable inhabitants of the Castle +of Aguas Frescas.” + +A later writer says: “In the comedy of Beaumarchais, we find the +adventures of the inmates of Aguas Frescas infinitely amusing, and we +are delighted with their lively manners, and the wit and satire of their +conversation; but we care as little for them as they seem to care for +one another. Mozart has given them _hearts_, and made them the objects +of our sympathy, by inspiring them with feeling, and passion.” + +Whether we admit the truth of these hypotheses or not, it is certain +that Mozart has invested the characters with a tenderness of expression +to which it would be difficult to do full justice in the spoken dialogue +even of Beaumarchais. And it was upon this tenderness that Mdlle. Lind +seized, as the basis of her conception; bringing it prominently forward, +at every fitting opportunity, yet without entirely sacrificing to it +that lighter vein of feeling in the treatment of which Beaumarchais was +inimitable. And we cannot doubt that, in adopting this course, she +fulfilled Mozart’s intentions, both in the spirit, and the letter. + +Neither as an actress, nor as a singer, did she deviate, in the +slightest detail, from the path indicated to her in the score. Every +mark of expression, every dynamic sign, every indication of _tempo_ was +a law to her. She thankfully accepted its guidance; she was as +submissive as a child; no thought of resistance to the written law ever +entered her heart. But, the service she yielded was a reasonable one. +She could not have submitted more willingly, if Mozart himself had been +there to claim her obedience. She could not have been less fettered, or +more original, if she herself had composed the Opera, which, with her +delicate interpretation of the principal part, achieved a success quite +unprecedented. Every scene in which she took part was accepted by the +audience, with tokens of unfeigned delight; and a passage of +unaccompanied _Recitativo secco à quattro voci_, sung, in the Second +Act, by Mdlle. Jenny Lind, Madame Grimaldi, Herr Staudigl, and Signor +Lablache, received a double _encore_, and was given three times, amidst +a perfect storm of applause. + +As the _Recitativo secco_, in Mozart’s Operas, is rarely printed, save +in the full orchestral scores, and is therefore unlikely to be known to +the generality of our readers, we give the passage here, exactly as it +stands in the full score published by Messrs. Breitkopf and Härtel of +Leipzig, but, with the _soprano_ part transposed into the treble clef, +for the benefit of the general reader.[97] + +[Illustration: + + SUSANNA. + + Chi al par di me contenta? Chi al par di me con- +] + +[Illustration: + + -tenta? I o! I o! + E schiatti il signor Conte, al gusto mio. + I o! E schiatti il signor Conte, al gusto mio. + E schiatti il signor Conte, al gusto mio. + E schiatti il signor Conte, al gusto mio. +] + +This seems simple enough—and is simple enough. So simple, that, in the +mouths of four commonplace singers, it might very easily pass for a +graceful little harmonised cadence, at the close of a passage of +ordinary recitative. But, Mdlle. Lind did not regard it in that light. +Ably supported by her colleagues, she sang it in conscientious +accordance with the indications furnished by Mozart, in the score: that +is to say, with gradually increasing interest, from the beginning of the +_solo_ passage culminating in a pause of moderate length upon the dotted +quaver, F; in extreme _piano_, from the part at which the voices first +join in four-part harmony, with a _crescendo_ to the _forte_ indicated +at the word “Conte”; in extreme _piano_, again, from that part to the +end, with a long pause on the antepenultimate D; and, on the +penultimate, C, one of those wonderful shakes which she alone could +execute—prolonged, to a degree which made it seem as if the supply of +breath were simply inexhaustible—beginning _pianissimo_, yet ever +diminishing in tone, to the gentlest warble, which, nevertheless, was +heard, with perfect distinctness, to the remotest limits of the enormous +_salle_—no hazy _tremolo_, of uncertain intonation, but a rapid +alternation of C, and D, in perfect tune throughout, and growing ever +fainter and fainter, till it faded into the final B flat with a +ravishing charm too subtle for description. + +The effect it produced was electrical. It lingers in our memory, as we +write of it, as clearly as if we had heard it, not five and forty years +ago, but yesterday. No one had ever heard the passage so interpreted +before—indeed, it was manifestly impossible that it could ever have been +so interpreted upon any previous occasion within the memory of man; for, +this was the first time that Mdlle. Lind had ever sung the part in +Italian, and the place of the _recitativo secco_ was supplied, on the +German stage, by spoken dialogue. No wonder, then, that the audience +were spell-bound! The burst of applause was overwhelming. Cries of +delight, of admiration, of astonishment, were heard on every side. Yet, +after all, what right had any one to feel surprised? The singer had +simply availed herself of the opportunity provided for her in the text. +But, what a genius was needed, for the creation of the opportunity, on +the one hand, and, on the other, for the intuitive perception which +enabled the interpreter to seize upon it! + + + + + CHAPTER VIII. + BY COMMAND OF THE QUEEN. + + +The clause in the Lumley contract which prevented Mdlle. Lind from +taking part in any public concerts, during the London season, proved to +be a very fortunate one; and the effect of Mendelssohn’s remonstrance, +and the explanation which followed, gave unalloyed satisfaction, in the +end, to all concerned. + +To have added to the fatigue and excitement of the Opera season, even by +an occasional concert, would have been in the highest degree imprudent, +had an occasional concert been possible. But it was not. In the then +excited state of public feeling, a share in the programme of one single +concert would have raised a clamour for concerts everywhere; for +engagements of one kind or another for every day in the week; demands +which it would have been impossible to meet, and the refusal of which +would have led to infinite dissatisfaction and annoyance. + +Happily, all this turmoil was saved, by the exhaustive ventilation of +the question which had already taken place, and its consequent +settlement before the season began. It was well known that all public +concerts were prohibited, by a stipulation duly signed, sealed, and +delivered, in the engagement at the Opera. + +But Mendelssohn’s prudence had overcome another, and a more serious +phase of the difficulty, which, though it would beyond all doubt have +been removed, when the season for its consideration arrived, was far +better settled in advance. He had suggested, in his letter of October +31, 1846, that the prohibitive clause should not be understood to extend +to concerts given by the Queen’s command. Mr. Lumley had naturally +agreed to this, as a matter of course; and, between the 28th of May, and +the 9th of August, Mdlle. Lind sang twice, by command of Her Majesty, at +Buckingham Palace, and once at Osborne; besides taking part in a concert +given by Queen Adelaide, at Marlborough House, at which Her Majesty and +the Prince Consort were present. + +At Buckingham Palace on the 28th of May Mdlle. Lind sang two of those +Swedish songs in which she was unrivalled, accompanying herself upon the +piano. They were new to her Royal audience, and by the spirit which +spoke through the exquisite softness and finish of the execution, they +went, there as well as elsewhere, home to every heart. The depth of the +impression she produced was shown by the profound silence while she +sang, a silence not accorded to the other singers, talented though they +were, and by the murmur of applause which followed, when she ceased. + +Twelve days later, she sang at Marlborough House, at a concert given by +the Queen Dowager, at which the Queen and Prince Consort were present. +It was given in the Hall, in which her voice was heard to great +advantage. Here, as at the previous concert, Her Majesty conversed with +Mdlle. Lind for some time, and spoke with great warmth both of her +singing and her acting. Of Lablache, Mdlle. Lind spoke to the Queen in +the warmest terms. “_Er ist_,” she said, “_wie ein Vater für uns alle_.” + +Again on the last day of June she had the honour of singing before Her +Majesty and the Prince at Buckingham Palace. On this occasion the +purity, the sweetness and softness of her voice were much dwelt upon by +the Queen, as well as the charming and unpretending grace of her +manners. Nor did the remarkable delicacy and expressiveness of her touch +on the piano escape notice. King Leopold and his Queen were present, and +shared in the fascination which the artist and the woman seem to have +excited in the Royal circle. King Leopold told her, she must not act +with too much feeling, lest she should over-fatigue herself. To this she +replied, “_Ich kann nicht anders thun als ich fühle_.” On the same +evening she said in reply to a hope expressed by Her Majesty, that she +would see her next year, “_Ich will die Bühne verlassen_”—what she +desired being, to go and work “_für die Wohlthätigkeit_,” as “_une +grande carrière_” had no interest for her. + +On the 9th of August, along with Signor Lablache, Mdlle. Lind was +invited to sing before the Queen and Prince Consort at Osborne. On this +occasion she sang several Swedish songs; four songs by Mendelssohn, +‘_Ueber die Berge_,’ ‘_Frühlingslied_,’ ‘_Auf Wiedersehen_,’ and +‘_Sonntagslied_,’ and with Lablache two duets from _Le Nozze di Figaro_. +Mdlle. Lind had always refused to take money for singing at the Royal +concerts. She was greatly moved when the Queen, calling her aside, +presented her with a bracelet, saying, as she did so, “I must again +express not only my admiration but my respect for you,” words more +precious far to her than the costliest present. In the course of the +conversation that ensued she again expressed her intention of quitting +the stage; but, in answer to Her Majesty’s expression of regret at the +loss this would be to art, she replied that she would certainly come +back again to England, whether she carried her intention into execution +or not.[98] + +It is known to everybody; and we need not, therefore, fear to be accused +of anticipating later events by alluding to the circumstance here; that, +however brilliant her triumphs on the stage may have been—and they were +certainly as brilliant in England as at Berlin, or Vienna, if not even +more so—they did not represent the whole of her Art-life. However high +may have been the level to which she raised the ideal perfection of +dramatic singing—of that union of the most exquisite vocal _technique_ +with the most finished expression of dramatic truth, which, bearing ever +in mind the necessary correlation of the twin Arts to one another, +embodied the truest and the most exalted conception of the mission of +the Opera that has ever yet been formed—however great may have been the +work she accomplished in this particular field—it was not here that she +won the _heart_ of all England. It is quite true that Her Majesty’s +Theatre was crowded night after night. Delicate ladies fought for their +places; and frenzied gentlemen pushed in front of them, touching the +very verge of loyalty and duty, in their eagerness to secure for +themselves the good position they ought to have offered to the ladies +who were as anxious to obtain it as themselves. The enthusiasm +manifested on the night of the _début_ was, certainly, no ephemeral +manifestation of spasmodic excitement, for it continued to the end of +the season. The admiration for the artist, the respect for the pure and +holy life she was known to be living, the reverence for her as a true +and noble-hearted woman, all these were won for her, on the night of her +first appearance before an English audience—and she never lost them, +till the day of her death. But, the LOVE that made the name of Jenny +Lind a “household word” in every English homestead, by every English +hearth, in every dwelling in which the English language was spoken—the +long-enduring LOVE was won at the concert-room, and at the Oratorio. Not +even ‘_Ah non credea_,’ or ‘_Deh vieni non tardar_,’ commanded, on the +stage, the depth of affection that was yielded, in an instant, to the +‘Swedish Songs,’ in the concert-room, or the still deeper feeling born +of ‘_I know that my Redeemer liveth_,’ and ‘_Holy, Holy, Holy_,’ in the +Cathedral. It was through _Elijah_ and _Messiah_, through the _Lieder_ +of Mendelssohn and Lindblad, and the _Swedish Melodies_, and the +thousand treasures that appeared, later on, in the concert programmes— +that the beloved “Swedish Nightingale” sang her way into the great heart +of the British people; and it is therefore of peculiar interest that it +should be through the warm and glowing words of our Queen that we now +hear of the first concert at which she ever sang in the country in which +she was afterwards naturalised. + +Truly, the privilege that has been so graciously accorded to us—and +without which this chapter in the life of the subject of the present +Memoir could never have been adequately written—is one for which the +most grateful thanks we can offer fall equally short of our duty, our +loyalty, and our heartfelt desire. + + + + + CHAPTER IX. + IN THE PROVINCES. + + +The business of the season was heavy and exacting, and its excitement +fatiguing, even to the strong; but, like the music of a grand dramatic +_scena_, it had its “points of repose,” interspersed among the _agitato_ +passages which formed the basis of its general construction. Let us hear +what our friend, Mrs. Grote, has to tell us about those welcome little +_agrémens_. + + “The summer of 1847 passed delightfully,” she says, in the MS. + _Memoir_ from which we have so frequently quoted, “divided, as it was, + between theatrical labours and triumphs, and passages of recreation. + Among the latter, the most agreeable to her were, repeated visits to + our own country home at Burnham, about three miles from Slough, where + she essayed riding on horseback; an exercise in which she afterwards + came to take so great delight, that she bought a couple of + saddle-horses of her own, and rode whenever opportunity permitted. + + “When she could not spare time to go to Burnham, we often spent a long + summer day in Wimbledon Park, taking a cold collation there, in a kind + of _châlet_, placed at her disposal by Mr. Barber Beaumont, the + proprietor. On these occasions, my brother Edward, myself, and + sometimes Mr. Grote, would accompany her. We all rambled about, + enjoying the repose and unmolested retirement the place afforded. The + nightingales sang, in May and June, in the copse; and to these Jenny + always listened with interest and pleasure. On one fine evening, as we + were leaning over a gate, listening to one, the bird stopped. + + “‘There!’ said Jenny, ‘he has seen us! Now, that is just like me. I + should have done the same, if I had caught anyone intruding on my + solitude. And, indeed, those who have compared me to the nightingale + were not far wrong; for I have a great deal of the nightingale in me.’ + + “When at Burnham, she used to study the music of her new _rôles_ among + the old beeches, where I have often found her, seated on the clubbed + root of one, with the book laid open upon her knee, and warbling, in a + low tone, the music of the score. + + “Mr. Lumley gave a _fête champêtre_, in the course of the season, at + his villa near Putney; and Jenny consented to go there, provided I + would accompany her as _chaperone_. We duly made our appearance at the + _fête_; but Jenny was so disturbed and discomposed by the staring and + incessant curiosity displayed by the company with regard to her, that + she was anything but comfortable during the two or three hours of her + stay. Mr. Lumley did everything he possibly could to restore her good + humour, but she only desired ‘to get away’; and we accordingly + returned, towards nightfall, to Clairville. No sooner were we within + its walls, than Jenny appeared in a new phase. Instead of allowing me + to continue my road homewards, she said I ‘must stay to tea’; then, + ‘to supper.’ My brother and I were placed in the seats of honour in + her little drawing-room. Lights were brought, in abundance. The + resources of the _ménage_ were strained to produce various + refreshments; Jenny doing the honours, and waiting upon us, with + infinite vivacity and grace, and in the highest spirits. I was beyond + measure diverted by her playful vagaries, which she finished, at last, + by sitting down to the piano, and singing her native melodies with + bewitching effect. + + “The night was now wearing away, but still I was not allowed to + depart. A messenger was despatched, who returned, in an hour or so, + with my night-dresses; and I was installed in Jenny’s own room, which + was lighted up with numerous wax candles, while she retired to a small + bedroom adjoining it. + + “This evening—one of many delightful ones, spent during the summer of + 1847—rises to my memory, as exemplifying the humour of this singular + being, in a very remarkable light.” + +No one enjoys a holiday so thoroughly as the artist, whose brain has +been too long strained at abnormally high pressure. Mendelssohn enjoyed +his holidays with the artless playfulness of a child, making no attempt +whatever to conceal the depth of his innocent delight—and Mdlle. Lind +did the same. But, the work of the “season” had not yet come to an end. +Much had already been done; but, much more remained to be accomplished, +before she could really take a prolonged and undivided rest. + +By a singular anomaly, so frequently repeated that its omission, at this +period of our history, would have seemed more strange than its +recurrence, the brilliancy of her successes was invariably found to bear +an inverse proportion to the depth of her previous despondency. + +We have seen her, at Berlin, reduced to the verge of despair, before the +evening of her triumphant _début_ in the grand new Opera-House. + +At Vienna, the appearance of the _salle_ of the Theater an der Wien so +terrified her, that but for Herr Hauser’s remonstrances, she would have +fled the city, and left her engagement with Herr Pokorny unfulfilled, in +the firm belief that her voice was not powerful enough to enable her to +carry out the task she had undertaken to perform. + +And again, in London, she had gone so far as to entreat her friend Mrs. +Grote to intercede with the manager for the reversal of a contract +which, she thought, made a demand upon her powers to which they were +wholly unequal. + +Yet, at Berlin, she succeeded in convincing the most fastidious critics +in the world of the reality of her genius, before the curtain fell upon +the first act of her favourite _Norma_. At Vienna, the delighted +Austrians unhorsed her carriage, in the hope that they might be +permitted to drag her home in triumph. And in London, she won her way, +in one single evening, to a position which no _prima donna_ had ever +previously occupied. + +But, when the London season came to a close, her successes in this +country were only just beginning. Her fame had already penetrated to the +remotest corners of the kingdom. The inhabitants of all the great towns +were burning with impatience to hear her, that they might judge for +themselves whether the rumours that had reached them were exaggerated, +or not. And those who had already heard her at Her Majesty’s Theatre +were longing to hear her again, in the distant counties to which they +were returning after the excitement of the season was over. So a long +and fatiguing provincial tour was organised without delay. To give a +detailed account of the country performances, _seriatim_, however +interesting they may have been at the time, could only be wearisome, +after the innumerable triumphs we have already described; but, Mrs. +Grote’s general account of the tour is too interesting to be omitted. + + “At the end of an engagement of unparalleled success,” she says, in + her _Memoir_, “Jenny proceeded on a tour in the provinces, in which + she was accompanied by my brother, Mr. Edward Lewin, who acted as + manager of her affairs, and directed her relations with the + concert-speculators, and whose agency, on this occasion, was extremely + valuable to her. She knew nothing of the English language, in the + first place; so that she could do little in the way of transacting her + artistic business. Her attendant could speak only Swedish, which made + it the more essential that some friend should accompany the ladies, to + serve as interpreter on the journey, and at the inns. Now, Mr. Lewin + was perfectly at home in the Swedish language, from having resided for + many years at Stockholm; and he likewise spoke French well enough to + communicate with the foreign artists included in the company which + Jenny had associated with her for these provincial performances. Their + intimacy was one of great confidence, and warm admiration for Jenny’s + many great and engaging gifts doubtless filled the breast of my + brother Edward; while the sentiments she entertained towards him + partook of the early companion, the able and serviceable secretary, + the ‘go-between’ with tiresome applicants for her bounty, or with + servants. He was her playfellow, as it were, in the hours of + relaxation; her escort to and from the theatre, and the concert-room. + And, beyond all this, _he was my brother_—a title, which, loving me as + she came to do during our familiar intercourse, conferred an + additional charm upon her friendship with Edward.”[99] + +And so it came to pass, that, aided by the business capacities and firm +moral support of this trusty friend, Mdlle. Lind devoted the months of +August and September to a series of provincial performances, undertaken +on her own account, and everywhere successful. She had secured the +assistance of Signor Gardoni, Signor F. Lablache and his talented wife, +and a competent orchestra, conducted by Mr. Balfe; and, in company with +these popular and thoroughly conscientious artists, she extended her +journey to Scotland, and delighted her audiences, wherever she appeared. +She was _fêted_ everywhere; and everywhere made friends. But, in one +particular town, the reception she met with was so cordial, and the +friendships she cemented were so true and lasting, that we cannot +refrain from giving a circumstantial account of the events which there +took place. + +While still busily occupied, in London, with her performances at Her +Majesty’s Theatre, she had received the following letter from Dr. +Stanley, the Bishop of Norwich:— + + “38, Lower Brook Street, + “July 10th, 1847. + + “The Bishop of Norwich has just heard that Miss Jenny Lind has + consented to come to Norwich in September next. He and Mrs. Stanley + therefore lose no time in expressing the hope that she, during her + stay, will become their guest at the palace. + + “The Bishop has only to add, that it will be a great gratification to + him to make acquaintance with one whose high character and principles, + from all he has heard, are on a par with her superior talents. + + “Miss JENNY LIND, + “Clara Villa, + “Old Brompton.” + +This invitation she accepted; and, on the evening of Tuesday, the 21st +of September, she duly arrived at the Palace, where she was received +with a welcome which she remembered with pleasure till the end of her +life. + +The leading local newspaper described the event, with the fervour that +never fails to animate a provincial journal, put upon its mettle by the +opportunity of making an unwonted announcement. She had been far from +well, since her departure from Edinburgh; and was suffering from +inordinate fatigue. The public had been informed of this, and great +anxiety prevailed, even among the working classes, who curiously peered +into every carriage, and thronged around the portal by which the great +songstress was to enter. + +The scheme for the week included two performances, over and above that +originally announced: viz., an evening Concert, on Thursday, September +the 23rd; and, on Saturday, the 25th, a supplementary morning +performance, for the benefit of those who were unable to meet the high +prices demanded for the original tickets. On the Thursday, the greatest +effect seems to have been produced by _Dove sono_; and, on the Saturday, +the Swedish songs threw the audience into a perfect _furore_. + +It is pleasant to turn from these details to a charming little episode +associated with the morning performance on Saturday. + +At a service in the Cathedral, on the Friday afternoon, Mdlle. Lind had +heard three of the Choristers sing the Trio _Jesus, Heavenly Master_, +from Spohr’s _Crucifixion_, with a purity of expression which moved her +to tears. So great, indeed, was the effect produced upon her by the +fresh young voices, that she afterwards told the Præcentor that she +“could never forget the boys’ singing,” and delighted Mr. Buck, the +organist, by saying that she had “never heard children sing so well;” +and, in return for the pleasure they had given her, she begged that +places might be reserved for all the little Choristers, at the morning +performance on the following day. On arriving at the Hall, her first +care was, to ascertain that the places accorded to them were +satisfactory, no slight privilege, at a time when numbers of the general +public were thankful to pay for places from which seeing was impossible, +and hearing extremely problematical. But this was not the only privilege +the little Choristers enjoyed. They were more delighted still with +another, which excited the envy of every one present: for when she came +upon the platform, she greeted them with a smile of recognition, +“which,” says the Norwich newspaper, “will not be readily forgotten, +either by the boys, or those who saw the passing brightness.” + +We have said enough to show that Mdlle. Lind’s reception at Norwich was +no ordinary one; and the records we have quoted would alone be +sufficient to prove the fact, if proof were necessary. + +But, the most graphic account, by far, of this famous visit, is +furnished by a very illustrious pen indeed—that of Mr. Arthur Penrhyn +Stanley, afterwards dear to so many as the Dean of Westminster. + +In a letter, dated September 22, 1847, Dean (then Mr.) Stanley writes:— + + “DEAR ——, + + “You have perhaps seen in the papers that Jenny Lind has been ill; and + that, hence, her arrival here was delayed a day, and the interest + consequently enhanced. + + “I should also, perhaps, add, that doubts had been entertained whether + she could be sufficiently recovered to sing at all. + + “Well! the fatal Tuesday arrives, the 4.30 train arrives, bringing + guests of ours—but, no Jenny. + + “All along the line, people had been standing at the stations, poking + their heads in at the windows. + + “‘No—she’s not here.’ And so on, till the disappointment communicated + itself to the crowd of 100, 400, or 700, which reports, varying in + their degrees, represent as assembled at the Norwich terminus. And + similar agitations prevail, even within the Episcopal precincts, from + the humble inhabitants of the Lodge—who look, with inquisitive + glances, into any fly that drives through the ancient gates—up to the + circle in the Palace drawing-room, which runs to the window, at every + sound, and starts at every opening of the door. + + “Dinner arrives—and still no Lind! + + “In the midst of dinner—a ring at the door. The dining-room door + opens—and, enter an electric telegraph, which is delivered to the + Prelate at the head of the table, and read to the listening guests—who + numbered, by the way, another Bishop, he of Tasmania—in the following + words:— + + “‘Miss Lind, being detained, will not be at Norwich till 8.30.’ + + “The blank faces which appeared at the beginning of the sentence + revived at the close; and the only suspense now remained till the + actual hour had arrived. + + “At that moment, the great bells of S. Peter’s Mancroft broke out into + their most joyous chimes. Some even say that guns were fired from the + surrounding heights. A few minutes more, and the expectant company + became aware that the head of the musical world had entered the house. + + + “Thus far I had written, on the morning after she came; and, as far as + the excitement is concerned, it might have been continued in the same + strain; how, when it was found that she could not appear that night, + from excessive fatigue; and, that she had said, ‘_J’espère que je + pourrai chanter demain; mais j’en doute_,’ blank horror overpowered + the party; how the Choristers were so affected, that one of them burst + into tears: how the bells rang till twelve at night, and ever and + anon, all day; how her portraits were selling in the streets, at a + penny a piece; how the whole town was in one great _Lind-Maelström_ of + excitement; how Miss Buckland was taken for her, when visiting a + factory, and followed by crowds, Sedgewick encouraging the delusion by + calling her ‘Jenny’; how, on one occasion, when she went into the town + with the Bishop, to visit two schools, the moment that her presence + became known, the streets were thronged, and windows thrown up, in + every direction, with people gazing from them, and turning after her, + till their necks were almost wrenched from their sockets; how, when + she went to the Cathedral, the whole of the North Transept, through + which lies the approach to the Palace, was so densely thronged, that, + as I led her—yes, I myself, S——! through the mass she had forced + asunder, as when Prince Albert led the Queen up the Senate House; all + this, and much more, I might relate; but I cannot; for, great as was + the wonder of seeing a whole population thus bewitched by one simple + Swedish girl, it sinks into nothing, before the wonder of herself. + + “You have seen her, and therefore you can appreciate the grace, the + dignity, the joyousness, the touching pathos of her entrance; her + attitude, her curtsies, her voice. For, whatever much beside—as, I + doubt not, there is—may be seen in her acting, all _this_ is seen in + her singing. + + “Twice did I go to the concert, merely for the sake of this. For the + music, so far as it could be separated from the charm of her manner, + and the wonder of her voice, which I, alas! could only admire as a + natural phenomenon, was to me wholly lost. + + “But, now, you must conceive a character, corresponding to all this, + and transpiring through a thousand traits of humility, gentleness, + thoughtfulness, wisdom, piety. The manners of a Princess—as I have + written to Donkin—with the simplicity of a child, and the goodness of + an angel. She is very much plainer, and more homely, than you would + suppose from her countenance, as you see it when animated in public; + but her smile, at all times, is only equalled by Pusey’s. + + “She came on Tuesday night, and is gone this evening; and it seems + quite a blank, as if a heavenly visitant had departed. + + “The parting scene was so deeply affecting, that I prefer, for the + moment, to dwell upon her return from the third and final concert, in + which the two carriages drove off together from the door, one + containing the Episcopal party, with the exception of myself, who rode + on the outside of the second, in which sat the wonderful creature + herself—the crowd rushing after with enthusiastic cheers. + + “I have already written a whole letter, and yet told you nothing, and + do not know whether I shall have time to do so till we meet. But, + there are numberless things to tell you, which may perhaps regale the + Common Room in the long winter evenings of next term. + + “Ever yours, + “A. P. STANLEY.” + + “P.S.—On reading over what I have said, I must begin again, lest you + should regard all this as idle raving. And yet, I hardly know where to + begin—not to mention that no details can give an adequate impression + of the whole. + + “(1). I never saw any one so strongly impressed with the consciousness + that a natural faculty is _a gift_. ‘_Ce n’est pas un mérite; c’est un + don_’ was, in various ways, constantly expressing itself. She said she + never sang without reflecting that it might be for the last time; and, + that it was continued to her, from year to year, for the good of + others. + + “(2). In speaking of her profession, generally, it was obvious that it + was not only her greatest object—as, indeed, one could not doubt, for + a moment—to keep herself unspotted; but, to elevate its whole tone, + and character. ‘_C’est ce que j’espère_,’ she said, with enthusiasm, + in answer to some suggestion that such might be the result of her + career. + + “(3). On acting, she said that, on the one hand, she could not leave + her own character altogether behind, when she came on the stage; that, + to destroy her individuality would destroy all that was good in her; + and, that she made it a principle, never to represent such passions as + would awaken bad feelings. Hence, for example, her very different + conception of _Norma_ from that of Grisi. But, on the other hand, + whatever conception she did form of the character she acted, she threw + herself into it entirely. If, as once or twice had happened, she was + unable to do this, she felt she was acting, and telling lies, and then + _entirely failed_. One instance she gave of this complete + identification was, that the part of _La Sonnambula_ fatigued her + extremely, from the utter impossibility of moving her eyes, during the + sleepwalking. + + “(4). The Bishop of Tasmania,[100] as I told you, being here at the + time, was so deeply impressed by her excellence, that, when he went + away, not being able to talk to her in French, he left her a letter + expressive of his approbation of her course, and of his hopes of the + good she might effect. This, combined with the great interest that she + herself took in his objects, so deeply affected her, that all her + practice for the coming concert had to be thrown aside; and it was + with great difficulty that she could sing, when she first began. All + this you can imagine as much more moving than I can describe. + + “(5). Her attention to all the servants and inferiors was most + remarkable—of which let this suffice. + + “At the last concert, when she appeared for the second time on the + platform, and just before the beginning of her song, the fixed look of + vacancy, seeing nothing, and looking at nobody, was suddenly exchanged + for one of those enchanting smiles which she cast below. It was the + little boys of the Cathedral Choir, whom she had seen at our house, + and whose upturned faces she caught sight of, at that moment, and she + looked upon them, with this delightful smile, till the song began. + + “Last of all, you shall have her impression of _me_! + + “On the last day, I told her that there was ‘_quelque chose + d’extraordinaire dans la voix_;’ but that, otherwise, her singing, in + itself, produced no impression whatever upon me. This, she said, was + by far the most amusing thing she had heard; and, that she should + never forget it. + + “And now I must end. + + “Ever yours, + “A. P. STANLEY.”[101] + +Do not let us forget that it is no professional critic who is writing, +here, but an independent witness, whose words are accepted with love and +reverence, even by those who do not always agree with him, wherever the +English language is spoken. And it is not too much to say, that, in this +particular case, his opinion was shared by everyone who had enjoyed the +privilege of hearing or conversing with the lady by whose personality he +was so deeply impressed. + +The day on which she took leave of them was a veritable day of mourning. + +The events of the last few weeks in England, carried down to the actual +moment of departure, are thus described by Mrs. Grote:— + + “At the end of September, I joined Jenny at Bath, along with Mr. + Lumley. My brother was obliged to leave us on the first of October, + and I was induced, by her persuasions, to remain by her side for a few + days, first, at Clifton, where she sang, and afterwards at Exeter. Mr. + Grote joined us, at the last-named place, and escorted the party back + to London. + + “On board the steamer, we took a most affectionate leave of her, the + sadness of which was relieved by the hope of meeting again within a + few months; Mr. Lumley having induced her to contract a second + engagement at Her Majesty’s Theatre. + + “As we rowed away from the ship, we saw her white handkerchief waving + in the darkness, wafting to us her last _adieux_! + + “She left behind her, in England, a splendid reputation, and the most + extensive personal interest and sympathy which it was possible for a + woman to create; and she also carried with her, as the fruit of five + months’ work, a considerable sum of money—such a sum as, till now, she + had not been mistress of.”[102] + +And, here, as she sails away from England, on board the Hamburg packet, +the _John Bull_, we too must take leave of her for a while, to meet her +again, at the end of her journey, surrounded by the beloved friends she +had left behind her in Berlin. + + + + + BOOK VIII. + THE GOAL. + + + + + CHAPTER I. + NEW TRIUMPHS AT BERLIN. + + +How strangely our forebodings are sometimes justified by after events +quite beyond conception at the time they were uttered. + +While Mdlle. Lind was most painfully under the influence of the terror +with which she had once looked forward to her visit to London, she had +written to Madame Wichmann:— + + “Vienna, March 26, 1847. + + “I must really go to London. Will you send me a few words to Munich, + by the next mail? I shall soon be there, staying with the Kaulbachs. + + “How beautifully everything has gone with me, here in Vienna! And, how + nice it would be for me, if I had not to go to London. But, perhaps, + even that may have its good side!”[103] + +It had indeed had its good side; and the prophecy that had been uttered +in the bitterness of anxiety, had been most gloriously fulfilled—as she +herself confessed, when she wrote:— + + “London, August 12, 1847. + + “How delighted I am that I have finished here! For it is better to + look back upon the accomplishment of so great a thing, than to look + forward to it. The English public has been unexampled in its kindness + to me.” + +Truly, it had been very kind to her; and she had richly deserved it. The +arrangement had been perfectly fair, on both sides. She had proved +herself worthy of the recognition accorded to her by the public; and the +public had proved itself worthy of her. + +We left her on board the _John Bull_; waving an affectionate good-bye to +her English friends, Mr. and Mrs. Grote, and Mr. Lumley; and looking +forward to an equally affectionate greeting from the dear ones from whom +she had parted, in the previous autumn, at Berlin, whither she was now +wending her way, in fulfilment of a brief engagement at the Royal +Opera-House, before her return to Stockholm. + +As early as the 25th of July, she had written, to Madame Wichmann:— + + “A few days ago, I received a very nice letter from Küstner. You know + how friendly he always was to me. I am quite sure that he is an honest + and good man; and I shall write—which is a great deal from me!—to tell + him that I cannot stay long in Berlin, or sing more than twice or + three times at the utmost, as I leave England so late—not until nearly + the end of September. We cannot, therefore, be long together, dearly + beloved, as I must get to Sweden before the weather becomes too + unfavourable. + + “Do you know, the Professor’s likeness of me[104] has pleased the + Queen immensely—and now I come to you to ask a very great favour. + Lablache is also so enchanted with the portrait, that I have been + obliged to promise him that I will ask the Professor to let him have a + copy of it. I shall be eternally obliged if my Professor will let me + have a little head—you know well what I mean: _my_ head—for Lablache. + He will be here till the middle of August. Ah! I entreat you, do me + this great kindness. He has begged so hard for it. + + “We are quite well. I am altogether beside myself with enchantment for + England.”[105] + +And again, on the 30th of September:— + + “I leave my beloved England, next Thursday, the 5th. I cannot, + however, tell the exact day of my arrival in Berlin. I will write + again from Hamburg.” + +How different was the greeting now awaiting her in the Prussian capital, +from that with which she had been received on her first appearance +there, in the winter of 1844! + +Then, all had been uncertainty. Vague expectation, on the part of the +public; despondency, of the most painful kind, on that of the +_débutante_. And now, what a change had taken place! There was no more +doubt. The triumph was assured. Her reception in Berlin, on this, her +third visit, seemed to include within itself all the enthusiasm that had +been gradually gaining new strength through the experiences of the two +preceding years. + +Herr Rellstab’s account of the final farewell to the Berlin stage, which +took place, on the occasion of Mdlle. Lind’s benefit, on the 17th of +October, 1847, after she had sung twice, in _La Figlia del Reggimento_, +and once, in _Der Freischütz_, exceeded in warmth even that given by his +English _confrères_. + + “_La Sonnambula!_” he says, “Jenny Lind’s benefit! Such a performance— + how could it have been otherwise?—must of necessity awaken a sympathy, + and attract a concourse, the like of which has not often been recorded + in the history of our theatre. We should have told of a deep joy, + filled with such splendours, such magnificence, as can only accompany + a high festival of highest Art, had it not been that our feeling was, + in truth, less that of tumultuous joy than of real sorrow. It was, + after all, that which we had been told it would be—the last evening on + which this unique, this unapproachable artist, would appear before us + on her field of victory, the stage—the last evening, at least, in so + far as a German audience was concerned. A winter of rest in her own + country; a farewell visit to magnificent Albion, the rich offerings of + whose splendour had been laid at her feet; and then—the course of the + purest star that has ever guided us by its light to the Heaven of Art + will reach its close. + + “If anything can give us consolation, in this too early and + irreparable loss now mourned by Art, it must be sought for in the + divine thought uttered by Goethe, on the occasion of Schiller’s + death:— + + “‘It is good for us, that he was taken in the fulness, in the + splendour of life; for mortals rest in our memory, as they were when + they left the earth. Therefore it is, that Achilles remains with us, + an ever-dying youth.’ + + “And gratefully will every wish for that which is good and best, + follow the departing guest; whether the steps of her future life lead + to still greater heights of publicity; or, to the still valleys of a + retired existence, which often afford a purer, if a less exciting form + of happiness. + + “L. RELLSTAB.”[106] + +And so, on that memorable night, the great “Berlin period” passed out of +the artist’s life, like a marvellous, an almost incomprehensible dream. +Passed out of her life, and out of the lives of her audience, of her +admirers, of her fellow-worshippers at the shrine of Art, never to be +renewed, and yet, more certainly still, never to be forgotten. The last +note had been sung,[107] and the last word said. But, the word that +dwelt longest in the memory of her to whom it was addressed had not been +spoken at the Royal Opera-House, but, at the Palace of Sans Souci—not by +the people, but by the King of Prussia. Following the example of the +Emperor of Austria, King Frederick William IV. of Prussia, after a Court +Concert given on the 16th of October, appointed Mdlle. Lind his +_Kammersängerin_—his Chamber-Vocalist; and wrote, to inform her of the +fact, in terms strangely simple, compared with the tone of those in +which such decrees are usually promulgated:— + + “I cannot deny myself the satisfaction of adding my own acknowledgment + to the universal recognition which your rare talent and perfect + mastery over the Art of Song have commanded, and I wish to prove this + to you by herewith appointing you my Chamber-Vocalist. + + “Sans Souci, October 16, 1847. + (Signed) “FRIEDRICH WILHELM, R. + + “An Demoiselle Jenny Lind.”[108] + +On the same day, His Majesty made known his command to Graf von Redern +in the following brief but expressive words:— + + “I have appointed the singer, Jenny Lind, to be my Chamber-Singer; and + have thought it right that you should be hereby made acquainted with + the fact. + + (Signed) “FRIEDRICH WILHELM.[109] + + “Sans Souci, October 16, 1847.” + +The explanation of this memorandum is that, in the natural order of +things, the notification of the King’s desire should have been formally +conveyed to Mdlle. Lind through the agency of Count Redern; but, in this +case, as we have already seen, His Majesty, departing from customary +etiquette, had enriched the compliment with an additional grace, by +addressing the letter containing the necessary announcement to Mdlle. +Lind herself. + +And, bearing with her this honourable patent, so frankly given, and so +nobly won, Mdlle. Lind left Berlin, on the 19th of October; sang once in +_Die Regimentstochter_, at the Stadt-Theatre, at Hamburg, on the 20th; +and, immediately afterwards, proceeded to Stockholm, in fulfilment of +philanthropic intentions which will be described in detail in our next +chapter. + + + + + CHAPTER II. + HOME AGAIN. + + +“I feel so strangely content,” she wrote on December 15, to Madame +Wichmann; “I am so happy and so quiet, at home again. It suits me so +well; and the people are my own country-folk; and they love me for +that.” + +Her friends gathered quickly about her. + + “The only thing that gladdened me,” writes Fräulein Von Stedingk in + her Diary, “was that Jenny Lind came back to Sweden. She was to spend + the winter here; not for taking rest, though she greatly needed it, + but to enchant us by her unsurpassed talent, and to devote her + receipts to the founding of Art Scholarships and to the Royal Theatre. + + “She spoke of England with delight; and she seemed to prefer it to all + other countries. I could have wished that she was not to return + there!” + +We must, now, hear what she was doing with these receipts to which +Fräulein Von Stedingk refers. + +Her first appearance was to be in _La Figlia_, on December 3rd. The +price of the tickets for all her appearances was raised 50 per cent, on +their ordinary cost; and on December 2nd, in an evening paper, the +_Aftonblad_, an explanation of this raised demand was given by Jenny +Lind herself. She wrote a letter, addressed to the owner of the +newspaper, Mr. Lars Hierta, a great merchant and distinguished citizen +of Stockholm, requesting the insertion in the _Aftonblad_ of the +following communication:— + + “At the moment of reappearing, after an interval of two years, on the + stage of my native country, before that public, which, from the time + of my first steps on the path of Art, has shown me so much favour, it + is the desire of my heart to ask for a continuance of the same rare + goodwill for the performances, in which I am now going to appear. I am + moved to this by a special reason, which I beg respectfully to submit + to the attention of the enlightened public; and I also consider myself + in duty bound to furnish an explanation of the reason for raising the + prices at the representations in which I am now going to take part. + + “My most ardent wish is to be allowed to be of some lasting use to + Native Art; to offer some kind of souvenir, more permanent than the + quickly-passing moments of my appearance on the boards; and to prepare + for my countrymen enjoyments of the loftier kind, for the years to + come, when my own efforts shall have ceased. I hope to do this by + laying the foundations of a College, where young minds may be + consecrated to both Art and Virtue. + + “Having been, myself, in childhood, a witness to the privations and + trials through which the young and needy have to struggle in this + profession, which holds so many thorns amongst the roses, I should + count it the most beautiful gain of the Singer’s gift if, by means of + this, I could contribute to help those who are favoured by nature but + ill-treated by fortune, to a development of their talent in + comparative ease and comfort, and to a culture that will be helpful + alike from a moral and artistic point of view. + + “With this intention, I have assigned the whole amount of my portion + of the receipts from the representations in which I shall appear, + towards establishing a fund, the income of which is to be devoted to + an institution for educating poor children who, while specially + endowed for the stage, lack the care of parents or relatives, without + which, in a moral and artistic respect, they either lose, or else fail + to reach, the higher development, for which their gifts would give + reasonable hopes. + + “The money obtained will be received and managed by two Trustees, + until the amount of the Capital will allow of the interest being used + for the object in view. + + “The lenient kindness of the public which hitherto has encouraged my + efforts in the service of Art, will—I trust—follow me also now that + these endeavours are dedicated to a work, the success of which must be + a matter of interest to every friend of Dramatic Art within our + Fatherland. + + “JENNY LIND. + + “Stockholm, 2nd December, 1847.” + +This communication to the paper signalises an intention which, for some +time forward, became one of her primary interests. It was her tribute to +Sweden. From the time that she won her place in the European drama, she +never sang in her native land again on her own behalf. She would take no +penny from it. Rather, she bent herself to repay to it, by gifts, the +support and the kindness which it had given her in her youth. She had +been “a child of the State,” brought up by its fatherly solicitude, at +its charge, at its risk. She felt herself pledged by her honour, as well +as by her affection, to make to it a thankful, a generous recognition. + +Then, too, she had a great desire to find adequate work and interest to +occupy her in her northern home. It should not be for idleness, or for +uselessness, that she would retreat thither from the big world. If she +ceased to do good by her Dramatic talents, as she must, through leaving +the stage, she would, yet, find other ways of helping men. “I have no +fear of feeling any void,” she writes during this very month to Madame +Wichmann, “for I can do much good here, and have already begun to set +about it.” + +And there were special reasons, as she thought, for some such effort at +doing good. For, profoundly as she loved her people, she felt, on her +return this time to Stockholm, an increased sense of their peculiar +moral perils. It may have been that the religious influence, under which +she had passed in England, had deepened her alarm at all that was +superficial, and thoughtless. Certainly, she was at times, during the +winter, greatly afflicted at the lack of seriousness which she met on +all sides: “I love my fatherland as much as ever,” she wrote, on the +14th of February, 1848, to Madame von Jaeger, her devoted Viennese +friend, whom she salutes as “Loved and honoured Mother;” but— + + “There is, here, I confess, such frivolousness in everything, that I + am sad.... I sometimes doubt whether I can find joy and happiness + here.... The last three years have given me a great deal clearer + insight. Do not imagine that they do not treat me well; on the + contrary: I have nothing at all to complain of, myself: only, it does + pain me that our nation should, through French influence, have lost so + much of its true self.” + +So she felt: and, it was in order to attempt to rescue the stage from +these perverting influences which had largely dominated it since the +early part of the century, that she set about her present scheme on +behalf of her own old Theatre-School. + +It was a touching naturalness, which drew her heart towards the scene of +her childhood. Her first deliberate act of permanent charity was to be +devoted to sparing other children some of the trials and perils, which +had been her own lot. Her own experience had taught her how hard it is +for the gifts inbred by nature to spring up into their full estate, +unless they are compassed about with moral succours. In this School of +hers, the young lives are to be consecrated to virtue as well as Art. + +As years went on the design itself was changed, owing to certain mental +changes which passed over her own spirit. Enough now to say that the +Royal Theatre was crowded night after night in spite of the raised cost, +and that the entire sum of her own gains from the season went to the +proposed fund. Her agreement with the theatre was that she should +receive a third of the receipts which remained, after the payment of +current expenses, on each night of her appearance; and that she should +be entitled to name for herself the date of a benefit performance. She +was also given the right to select her own pieces. The contract is +signed by Count Hugo Hamilton, the Intendant. + +Her voice, about which a few suspicious rumours had been flying about, +owing to the fatigue and strain of her incessant efforts in Germany, was +in its normal splendour. “She is now in her beloved Stockholm,” wrote +Madame Wichmann, on December 27th, to Madame Jaeger, whom these rumours +had disquieted, “and has rested herself, and has appeared in her fullest +power and glory, at the theatre.” + +She sang in the _Figlia_ ten times during the winter and spring months, +three of these performances being given for the benefit of (1) the +Theatre Pension Fund; (2) the Chorus, and (3) the Conductor, J. F. +Berwald. + +She gave four performances of the _Sonnambula_ in January, and four of +_Lucia_ in March and April—singing this part for the fifty-sixth time on +the Stockholm stage on April 3rd. The _Freischütz_ was sung twice, once +on behalf of Strandberg, the first tenor at the Royal Theatre, once on +behalf of the Chapel at the Deaf and Dumb Institute, near Stockholm. The +first of these performances was given on March 7th, the anniversary of +her _début_ in the part of Agatha on the memorable 7th of March, 1838. +She now sang it for the forty-first time on those boards. + +Besides this work at the Opera, there were concerts—one at Her Majesty +the Queen Desideria’s on December 1st;[110] and all the rest for old +friends, and associates; for Mina Fundin, her dear ally in childhood; +for Randel, the concert-master; for the Artists’ Guild Pension Fund; for +Josephson, the composer; for Arnold, an organist and composer; for the +Royal Orchestra Pension Fund; for D’Aubert, the concert-leader; for +Theodor Sack, the principal violoncellist at the Royal Opera. So it went +on. + +And finally, for the thirty-third and thirty-fourth time in Stockholm, +she gave _Norma_, first for the machinists of the theatre; and secondly +for sundry other persons, now unnamed, on whose behalf the tickets were +sold by public auction. + +With _Norma_, it all ended, on April 12th. It was her last appearance on +the Swedish stage—her last representation in the theatre, which had +heard the first notes of her child-voice, as she tripped over its +boards, a tiny girl hardly ten years old, bewitching the audience by her +astonishing, “almost unnatural” cleverness—the theatre which had +thrilled to the revealed splendour of her genius on the historic night +when she discovered her power, and “went to bed a new creature.” There, +on those boards, familiar to her feet as the very floor of home, she had +won for herself those early dramatic experiences, with which she had +fascinated and enthralled Europe; there she had, step by step, moved +from triumph to triumph, until the artistic resources of her native land +had been exhausted, and she had been driven, by the impulsion of an +aspiring spirit, to seek, elsewhere, for that development which should +be level with her fullest powers. Thither she had returned, with the +required power, to find the same faithful enthusiasm ready to respond to +her, only with more ardent loyalty than ever. So long, so close was the +story which knit her to that Stockholm theatre; such deep memories lay +about her there: such a record of hopes and fears and wonders: and, now, +that page was to be closed for ever. For the very last time, she had +waited in those wings for the step forward which should carry her into +the roar of welcome. For the very last time within the well-known walls, +she had felt the whole body of silent people absorbed into her own +masterful and magnetic influence, as she held them, spell-bound, within +the power of her gaiety or her passion. It was all over, on that night +of April the 12th when the last notes of _Norma_ died on the ear. + +Fräulein Von Stedingk was present and writes: + + “She surpassed herself. When she came before the curtain at the close, + the whole audience rose; and many an eye was wet.” + +The famous picture of her as Norma, by Södermark, which is the treasured +pride of Stockholm, was painted during this season. It was subscribed +for by the employés at the Royal Theatre, and presented to the theatre +to be placed there, on January 6th, 1849. It put the seal on the belief +of her own people, that her delineation of Norma was her most triumphant +achievement; and most certainly it was the character which she herself +always selected, whether as a challenge to criticism on her entry upon +some new boards, or as her best farewell to any familiar stage. + +In the middle of all this smooth happiness, came the irritating news of +the verdict in the suit of Bunn _v._ Lind. That wearisome tangle had, at +last, come to a close. On the 23rd of February, the case was heard in +London before Sir W. Erle, sitting in the Court of Queen’s Bench. The +damages claimed were £10,000; and these were based on the standard +receipts of Madame Malibran in the height of her fame. The +Attorney-General pleaded that the contract had dropped through Mr. Bunn +being unable, on his own showing, to provide the music for _Vielka_ by +the date mentioned in the contract. He argued that, as to damages, all +Mr. Bunn could claim of positive loss was the price of a journey to +Berlin, and the £150 spent by him in translating the _Feldlager_ into +English. Sir W. Erle summed up minutely; and the jury finally gave a +verdict in favour of Mr. Bunn, with £2,500 damages. + +Mr. Lumley had, as we know, made himself responsible for the loss. But +the result must have been bitterly vexatious. Of course, she had let the +proper date pass before which she was to make her objections to the +contract, and so had put herself legally wrong. But we are aware how +ignorant she was of all the arts by which to escape the meshes of the +law, or to guard herself against the brutalities of managers. She had +been trapped into the engagement before she knew what she was doing or +the situation into which she was coming. Her reasons against the +contract were real: she _could_ not have learned English in the time; +her nervous dread of failure through singing in a foreign tongue, was +profoundly genuine, however improbable it might sound in the atmosphere +of a law court. We know the extremity of her self-mistrust, the agony of +her diffidence. Bunn treated her appeals with a vulgar insolence, that +was bad enough to deprive him of all claims to compensation. As we read +his rough letters, it softens our regret that, for conduct of this type, +he was once soundly thrashed by Macready. + +[Illustration: + + _Jenny Lind in the character of Norma from a picture by Södermark._ + + Stockholm 1848. +] + +However, so, at last, the tiresome business is over; and we can be +thankful to hear no more of it. It was the only occasion, in all her +life, in which she ever heard herself accused of motives which it was a +degradation to her even to be charged with. To those who ever knew her, +it sounds like a silly jest that she should ever have had to endure the +accusation of rapacity, or sharp dealing—so incomprehensible and so +remote would such motives have always been to her. But, jest as it may +sound to us, to her it was cruel and bitter enough; and, no doubt, the +verdict stung her like a sharp blow. + +Yet no record remains of its effect upon her; and home was kind and +tender and soothing; and every trouble there, was clearing; and, in +witness of this, we will make one little record which will happily mark +this season of farewell to the Swedish stage. The time of her entry upon +its boards, in 1829, had been, it will be well remembered, a time of +much domestic trouble; and that theatre had been to little Jenny, a +refuge and a home, to which she ran for peace. But, now, things were +bettered. Her mother, who had, with such a shrinking heart, handed over +her child to a scene so alien and so dreaded, was now freed from the +conflict of a pinched and broken life, and had softened, and sweetened. + +“My own real mother is just come in;” Jenny writes on the 14th of +February, to the Viennese lady, Madame Jaeger, whom she always addressed +as “mother.” + + “She and my father live in the country” (in the house she had given + them), “and have come in to-day to see the _Elisir d’Amore_, in which + I am ‘Adina.’ My mother begs to send a thousand greetings to you, + unknown as you are to her, and as I tell her what you have been to me, + her eyes fill with tears of joy.... My mother is so sympathetic + towards me (which, perhaps, was not always the case); and she seems to + be so happy, and contented,—a happiness which I had hardly dared to + hope for.” + +In contrast to this home-gladness, there lay heavy on her soul, all this +time, the misery of Mendelssohn’s death.[111] + +She could not bear even to open a letter to her from Madame +Birch-Pfeiffer in which she felt that there would be reference to it: +for, as she wrote back:— + + “As soon as I am obliged to hear or read anything about him, I get + almost incapable of carrying out the great duty which I have taken + upon my shoulders. + + “Death has lately robbed me of several of my dearest friends: so that + I am afraid I shall soon begin to feel cold here in the North! And + yet, dear good mother, my heart is tied and chained to this ground and + this people. God be praised for it! + + “I am well: though I have no rest. All is right now with my parents. + Besides singing in Operas, I sing two or three times a month in + concerts, and can thus help some on to a better lot in time. + + “To-day the sun is shining brightly. Oh! if you could but see the + white sparkling snow on the roofs! From my window I see several mills: + and a few churches; and on one of them sits a gilt cock who probably + amuses himself. Oh! how I wish that I too could be in the air, for the + earth oppresses me. Mother, mother, I do not belong to this world; my + heart will not stay in its narrow prison!... + + “But, in spite of all this, there is no being who could have more + reason to be happy and grateful than I! I am both. Farewell! God keep + you all! + + “Your loving + “JENNY.” + +So she wrote to her “German mother” on Jan. 22. In the following month, +in the letter already quoted to her “Austrian mother,” Madame Jaeger, +she wrote:— + + “Ah! mother! what a blow for me was the death of Mendelssohn! That is + why I have been silent so long. For the first two months after it, I + could not put a word down on paper: and everything seemed to me to be + dead. Never was I so happy—so lifted in spirit, as when I spoke with + him! and seldom can there have been in the world two beings who so + understood one another, and so sympathized with one another as we! How + glorious and strange are the ways of God! On the one hand, He gives + all! On the other, He takes all away! Such is life’s outlook.” + +For two whole years after that fatal November, she could not bear to +sing a “Lied” of Mendelssohn’s. With his loss, there had passed out of +her life the profoundest and most intimate influence under which she had +ever come; for it was an influence which touched her whole being, at +once in its most real and its most ideal elements. With him, she felt +the same blending of the artistic aspiration with the personal character +which she knew in herself; and both with character and with aspiration, +she was in innermost sympathy. To both, the artist-life was a +reverential trust, endowed with awe, hallowed by mystic +responsibilities. Drawn to one another by this vital unity of motive, +they responded, each to the other, with a glad and delightful freedom +such as belongs only to those whose central selves are in perfect touch. +Each word that one or the other spoke was known to be understood. There +is a joy in such sympathetic intimacies which is electric. Both had felt +it in its most ideal form. And, now, it is this which is gone from her. +It left a blank which the slow years could never quite fill; but the +loss would have been yet more deadening, were it not that her enjoyment +of his influence had been so very, very brief, that the heart was bound +to recover its freshness; and nowhere sooner than at home, in the thick +of good and happy work. + +We have seen to what charitable purposes eight of her special operatic +performances, and all her concerts had gone. + +There remained the winnings earned by twenty-seven nights at the Royal +Opera,—about £2,200—all of which went to the fund which she had planned +for the Theatre-School. This fund was to be allowed to accumulate by +interest until it had reached a certain limit. + +So the final season on the home boards came to its end. She must leave +for England. + + “I delight in thinking of my next London season,” she wrote to Madame + Jaeger: “for I have so many reasons for being grateful towards the + London public that it lays a necessity upon me to make a worthy return + for it all! I believe that the coming summer will bring me many joys, + for I am taking to London, as my companion, my good, old master (Herr + Berg) and his wife, and little daughter; and I cannot be better off + than with them!” + +There was another long-standing friend, besides Herr Berg, who was +particularly concerned with her happy hopes at this moment. This was +Herr Julius Günther. We do not propose, in this work, to enter into all +the private and domestic incidents of our heroine’s life, except so far +as they touch her artistic career. It is not for us, therefore, to +follow minutely the long story, over which we, here, must give a rapid +glance. We need but indicate, in the briefest manner, how matters had +stood between her, and Herr Günther, before they reached this decisive +moment. With him she had sung continually both before and after her +visit to Paris—both in Opera, and in the concert-room. The obvious +contact, which this involved, had grown into a closer intimacy during +her triumphant season, in 1844, at Stockholm; and just before leaving +for her great experiment in Berlin in 1845, this intimacy had been +recognised as tending to an engagement. This understanding had become +strained, and practically suspended, under the busy and wonderful +experiences of her long absence on the Continent, and in England. Herr +Günther had been wandering, as well as she: he had been in Paris, under +Garcia; much had been happening on both sides. But, now, that they were +both back again in Sweden, the former relations revived, and culminated. +Herr Günther saw reasons to trust that, in spite of his fears lest this +European success, this splendid career, should carry her beyond his +scope and influence, she, still, would respond to his appeal; and he +spoke; and he found favour, and rings were exchanged. She sailed on +April 13th. + +When the hour of departure arrived, everything was done to heighten its +excitement. The Swedes, touched by her magnificent generosity, were +eager to signalize their admiration in a special outburst of enthusiasm. +“No one can remember a more solemn farewell offered to any private +person,” wrote one of the officials at the theatre. + +“She left at 2 P.M. by the steamer ‘Gauthiod.’ Already, as early as +twelve o’clock huge heaps of people began arriving, at Skeppsbron, which +was filled with foot-passengers and carriages. The ships nearest the +‘Gauthiod’ were also crowded, even up in the rigging, and so were +numbers of rowing-boats, moving about in the port. The choir of the +Opera were placed in barges near to the steamer, and sang several +pieces, conducted by choir-master Wennbom. In another boat, the band of +the Uplands regiment had taken their stand, performing airs from the +Operas in which she had appeared. + +“As the steamer weighed anchor, the multitude gave repeated cheers, men +and women waving hats and handkerchiefs, which continued as long as a +glimpse of the ‘Gauthiod’ could be caught. She seemed very much moved; +and often had to interrupt her friendly responses with her handkerchief, +to use it to wipe away her tears.” + +As she reviewed, in her memory, this winter in Stockholm, she was +stirred to even more than her usual fervour for all that was Home. + +She put her retrospect into words, in a letter from London, written on +July 10th, to Madame Kaulbach at Munich:— + + “I have been in my beloved country, and have felt most deeply how + powerful is the love for it that I have cherished from childhood. My + King—the whole Royal Family—the country—the ground—oh! I could have + kissed them all! And with tears of profound reverence in my eyes! What + a glorious time I have had there! The cordiality, the feeling of home, + the language,—all enchanted me. And I was staying so pleasantly with + my dear good aunt; and I got together a great deal of money for the + poor.... See, my dearest friend! This is what I have experienced!” + + + + + CHAPTER III. + THE RE-APPEARANCE AT HER MAJESTY’S THEATRE. + + +And now, the course of our narrative brings us back, once more, to +Clairville Cottage, where Mdlle. Lind arrived, after her long sojourn in +Stockholm, on the 21st of April, 1848; and where, a few hours +afterwards, Mrs. Grote found her, “looking well, and in gay cheerful +mood, anticipating, with agreeable feelings, the coming months of her +stay.” + +Her Majesty’s Theatre opened, for the season of 1848, on Saturday, the +19th of February; and it was confidently expected that Mdlle. Lind’s +return to the boards on which she had won so many laurels would take +place on Saturday, the 29th of April, immediately after the Easter +recess; but, at her own request, the event was postponed, until the 4th +of May. + +The Opera chosen for her re-appearance was _La Sonnambula_, of which +Chopin, who had just come to London, wrote, at the beginning of May, to +his friend Grzymala:— + + “I have been to the Italian Opera, where Jenny Lind appeared, for the + first time, in _La Sonnambula_. + + “I have also made Jenny Lind’s personal acquaintance. When, a few days + afterwards, I paid her a visit, she received me in the most amiable + manner, and sent me an excellent ‘stall’ for the Opera, where I was + capitally seated, and heard excellently. + + “This Swede is indeed an original from head to foot. She does not + show herself in the ordinary light, but in the magic rays of an + _aurora borealis_. Her singing is infallibly pure and true; but, + above all, I admire her _piano_ passages, the charm of which is + indescribable.”[112] + +In the following July, Chopin gave two _matinées_ in London. In +describing these, a musical periodical flippantly observes:— + + “M. Chopin has lately given two performances of his own pianoforte + music at the residence of Mrs. Sartoris, which seem to have given much + pleasure to his audiences, among whom Mdlle. Lind, who was present at + the first, seems to be the most enthusiastic. + + “We were not present at either; and, therefore, have nothing to say on + the subject.”[113] + +It is gratifying, in connection with Chopin’s expressions of admiration +for Mdlle. Lind’s artistic nature, to know that she felt an equal +admiration for his extraordinary genius—an admiration which increased as +years rolled on, and as she became better acquainted with his works, of +which she never spoke without enthusiasm. + +On the 6th of May, _La Sonnambula_ was repeated, and again on the 16th; +on the 11th, 13th, and 18th, Mdlle. Lind sang in _La Figlia del +Reggimento_; and, on the 25th, she appeared, for the first time in +England, in Donizetti’s _Lucia di Lammermoor_. + +_Lucia_ had always been one of her favourite Operas. She had sung in it +many times in Stockholm; and, occasionally, in Hanover, and other parts +of Germany. The part of Lucy Ashton was, indeed, pre-eminently suited to +the display of her peculiar talent. She painted, to perfection, the +vacillating character of the timid, shrinking maiden; her love for Edgar +Ravenswood, devoted, true, faithful even, so far as she had strength to +resist the pressure put upon her; her womanly determination, +withstanding, for a time, the alternate threats and entreaties of her +despicable brother, yet not courageous enough to bear the last dread +shock; her passionate despair, when she had broken faith with her lover, +and signed the irrevocable contract; above all, her fatal madness, +depicted in that last great scene, in which she aimed at, and was +admitted by all to have reached, an ideal so high, that its infinite +pathos, its ineffable sadness, could only be compared with the touching +charm that some of the greatest of our English actresses have, on rare +occasions, succeeded in weaving around the gentle hallucinations of +Ophelia. + +The following critique is one of many which appeared on the day after +the performance:— + + “Last night was the most remarkable one of the season. Mdlle. Lind + appeared, for the first time, in _Lucia di Lammermoor_, and raised to + the highest enthusiasm the immense audience that had attended. + + “Mdlle. Lind gave the character a stamp that distinguished it from any + other rendering, bringing out the distress and madness of the unhappy + ‘Lucia’ with a force that has hitherto remained unknown. The sudden + horror that came over her, and paralysed her for a moment, when the + letter was placed in her hands, to convince her of the infidelity of + ‘Edgardo,’ was finely conceived; and the effect was heightened by a + new point. Snatching the letter from her brother’s hands, she gazed at + it once more, as if to ascertain that the first impression had been + only a delusion. + + “The madness in the last Act, was wonderfully interpreted. The eye, + glaring and vacant, appeared absorbed by fantasies, and blind to all + external objects. The passions by which she is supposed to be + influenced, while in this painful situation, are of the most varied + kind; but she never for a moment lost sight of the insanity. However + eloquent the song, the countenance was never fully lighted up by its + meaning. The discordance between the internal and the external world + was terribly preserved. To give the scene its full importance, Mdlle. + Lind has restored much of the music which is now generally omitted; + and, at the conclusion, instead of running off the stage in the usual + fashion, she fell senseless, which brought the situation to a more + pointed conclusion. Altogether, this mad scene is a rare exhibition of + genius, the fine fresh voice of the singer giving a substance to the + creation of her mind. The character of ‘Lucia’ will unquestionably be + ranked among Mdlle. Lind’s most brilliant successes. The audience were + kept in a state of the greatest excitement; and plaudits, repeated + calls, and bouquets, marked their unbounded delight.”[114] + +The success of _Lucia di Lammermoor_ was so great, that it was given +four times in succession, and seven times more before the close of the +season. + +The next new Opera was Donizetti’s charming Opera buffa, _L’Elisir +d’Amore_—a work incomparably superior to _La Figlia del Reggimento_, +both in its music and its _libretto_, though happily wanting in the _ad +captandum_ element which most excites the great mass of the public, and +therefore less calculated to excite a general _furore_. It proved, +however, a genuine success, and afforded excellent opportunities for the +display of the _prima donna’s_ genius, in its lighter mood, as well as +for that of Signor Lablache, whose “Dottore Dulcamara” was one of his +most genial _buffo_ parts; and his never-failing humour was turned to +such excellent account, on this occasion, as to produce the most piquant +effects in the scenes in which he and Mdlle. Lind were associated. + +The next new _rôle_ was of a very different character. Until this year +Mdlle. Lind had never sung in _I Puritani_. She had seen it performed, +on her first visit to Her Majesty’s Theatre, in 1847, and had whispered +to Mrs. Grote, “I think I can do as well as that, and perhaps a little +better.” The time had now come when the faith she then expressed in her +own powers was to be put to the test—and we think we may venture to say +that it stood it fairly well. + +The _rôle_ abounds in opportunities for the display of many high and +varied qualities which few dramatic artists possess in combination. It +is not enough that its exponent should be merely a brilliant executant, +or an impassioned actress, or possess a voice of large compass, of +unfailing sustaining power, of luscious sweetness, or of unlimited +flexibility. She must possess all these qualifications, and very many +more, in their highest perfection, and fullest measure of development. +These conditions were not hard for Mdlle. Lind; and she complied with +them all. But there was another one, very much harder, in the +background—one external to herself, and for which she was in no wise +responsible. Not many years previously, _I Puritani_ had been placed +upon the stage at Her Majesty’s Theatre, with a gorgeous wealth of +talent, still vividly remembered. So great was the sensation it created, +that, for years afterwards, the “_Puritani_ season” was spoken of as the +most brilliant on record. The charm of its enchantment was still fresh +in the memory of every frequenter of the Opera-House; and against the +influence of its attraction, Mdlle. Lind, with Signor Lablache alone to +support her in the first rank, had now to contend. A battle, fierce as +that which she had fought, in Berlin, against the memory of Madame +Schrœder-Devrient, and Annette Schechner, in _Euryanthe_, and _Die +Vestalin_, had now to be fought over again—and she fought, and won it. +Her rendering of _Qui la voce_ held all who heard it spell-bound; and +the _cadenza_ she composed for its opening movement was one of the +finest and most original of the wonderful passages of _fioritura_ with +which it was her custom to ornament the Italian _arie_ that pleased her +best. Again, in the famous Polacca—_Son vergin vezzosa_—the lightness of +her execution was little short of miraculous. And yet, in other scenes, +she sang with an impassioned fervour which brought into play the richest +tones of the fullest _soprano drammatico_. + +The following critique, from the leading journal of the period, is +written with so commendable an earnestness, and in so just a spirit, +that we think no apology necessary for giving an extract from it:— + + “To those who have seen Mdlle. Jenny Lind in the characters of + ‘Amina,’ ‘Lucia,’ and ‘Alice,’ it must be evident that she gives to + any part she undertakes a distinctive mark, by which it becomes her + own; that, however often a character may have been represented by + other artists of eminence, she always does something with it which has + not been done before. + + “Her ‘Elvira’ in _I Puritani_, which was performed on Saturday, was + another triumph in this respect. It was not like any other ‘Elvira’ + which had been seen on the stage. + + “The vocal triumph was as great as the histrionic. The sparkling + _polacca_, executed to perfection, and with a playfulness which was + completely illustrative of the character, electrified the audience, + and was encored with an enthusiasm which is rarely heard in any + theatre. In the mad scenes, an expression of wildness was apparent, + even in the crying, and added to the stronger mournfulness of the + situation. At the conclusion of the Opera, she was called repeatedly, + and bouquets were thrown in showers.”[115] + +The success of _I Puritani_ was triumphant. Though the season was now +far advanced, it was given five times. But it did not displace the old +favourites. Concerning these, however, there remains no more to be said. + +The performances extended to a much later period than usual; and many +ardent lovers of music remained in town beyond their customary time, in +order that they might not lose an opportunity which there was too much +reason to fear might never occur again. + +Her Majesty and Prince Albert continued, to the end of the season, and +through a hot July, which made hours spent in a crowded theatre a severe +penance, to show their admiration of Mdlle. Lind by their attendance at +the Opera. They appear to have heard her in _La Sonnambula_ and the +_Figlia del Reggimento_ with ever-increasing delight—charmed with her +acting, and more and more impressed by her amazing flexibility of voice, +and the unusual power of the singer in executing the most brilliant +_fioriture_ in an exquisitely modulated _piano_. + +Mr. Lumley had cause for genuine satisfaction before the performances +came to an end. His profits, this year, were far greater than they had +been in 1847. It is true that the results of “The Bunn Trial” had been +more calamitous, by far, than those best able to form an opinion on the +subject had predicted, or supposed even possible. Still, he well knew +how to make the best of his improved position; and has himself left it +on record, that “the season of 1848 proved, in a financial point of +view, far more remunerative than the preceding one, in which so much had +been absorbed by the extra expenses entailed by Jenny’s +vacillation.”[116] + + + + + CHAPTER IV. + THE CONCERT FOR THE BROMPTON HOSPITAL. + + +Clairville Cottage, though Mdlle. Lind had chosen it solely for the sake +of its retirement from the world, was none the less frequented by a +goodly company of trusted and congenial friends, who delighted to sit at +rest in the shade of its noble plane-tree, and inhale the sweet perfume +of its beloved magnolias, and whose presence, renewed from time to time, +effectually prevented its solitude from becoming irksome. We have seen +that Herr Berg and his family made a lengthened stay there. Mrs. Grote +was a constant visitor. So also was Thalberg, of whose talent Mdlle. +Lind always spoke with warmest admiration, and whose manner of +interpreting Schubert’s songs on the pianoforte initiated her into the +true Viennese spirit which is indispensable to their traditional effect. +And no less welcome were Mr. and Mrs. Samuel Carter Hall, who occupied a +house in the immediate vicinity of the pretty cottage, and were on terms +of friendliest intercourse with its mistress. + +Within a few minutes’ walk of this peaceful habitation rose a pile of +buildings which the friends regarded with peculiar interest—the first +beginnings of the then but half-completed “Brompton Hospital for +Consumption and Diseases of the Chest.” + +In an autobiographical work,[117] which has attained great popularity, +Mr. S. C. Hall makes mention of a concert given by Mdlle. Lind, at Her +Majesty’s Theatre, for this excellent institution. His account is so +circumstantial, that it seems difficult, at first sight, to doubt the +accuracy of any part of it. It is, however, inaccurate in certain +particulars, as we shall presently show, though the main facts are +stated correctly enough. + +Mdlle. Lind had visited the Hospital during the height of the Opera +season, and had taken a vivid interest in it. It was indeed well worthy +of her attention. It owed its foundation, in the first instance, to the +benevolent energy of Mr. (afterwards Sir Philip) Rose, who, in the year +1841, formed a nucleus for it in a building known as the Manor House, +overlooking the grounds of Chelsea Hospital, and now used as an +auxiliary to the general work of the Institution. The present buildings +were begun in 1844, and were still far from complete in 1848, when +Mdlle. Lind, having heard that accommodation for an increased number of +patients was urgently needed, determined to use every possible exertion +for the addition of a new wing. + +Some interesting particulars concerning her proposal are given in the +journals of the period, from which we select one, the authority of which +cannot be doubted:— + + “The concert that will be given this day at Her Majesty’s Theatre for + the benefit of the Hospital for Consumption at Brompton, is a striking + instance of the benevolence and generosity of Mdlle. Lind. Not only + does she give her own services, but she has made arrangements with Mr. + Lumley, providing the society gratuitously with everything required; + so that no expense will be incurred, while it is expected that the + funds will be materially increased. + + “The benefit that is to be done to the charity by this concert, is of + a special kind—namely, the erection of an eastern wing to the + hospital, in which an increase of room for the admission of patients + is most desirable. + + “The ‘Hospital for Consumption and Diseases of the Chest’ has peculiar + claims to public support. The incurable nature of the consumptive + patient’s complaint, and the fact that he must long occupy a bed which + might be more profitably devoted to sufferers from other maladies, + shut him out from all hospitals whatever, before the establishment of + this one. The confirmed consumptive patient literally had no home, + before the foundation, in 1841, of a hospital devoted exclusively to + sufferers of this class. In aiding this establishment, therefore, the + benevolent are contributing towards a purpose that cannot be + accomplished by any other charity whatever. They are not merely + providing medical assistance in the case of a particular disease, but + they are providing a permanent domicile to a whole class of houseless + invalids. + + “The report of the charity spoke favourably of its progress; but + showed that much more remained to be done. In 1847, there were already + sixty beds for patients, which were constantly occupied; and it was + expected that forty more, which the portion of the building then + completed was capable of accommodating, would soon be made available. + It is statistically shown that, in this metropolis, 11,000 persons are + constantly wasting away, from the attacks of pulmonary disease; and + that a large portion of these are working men, totally without the + means of providing for themselves, and excluded, as we have already + said, from the general hospitals. + + “It is hoped that the concert will be one of those instances of the + amusement of the rich contributing to the relief of the poor, that + have lately been happily frequent, in the metropolis. The conduct of + Mdlle. Lind, who, according to the prospectus of the concert, + ‘generously expressed her desire’ to augment the funds of this + excellent charity, is worthy of all praise.”[118] + +In one point only, the contributor of this interesting article to the +_Times_ fails to do full justice to a gentleman who behaved, on this +occasion, with great and liberal forbearance. It will be remembered +that, by her contract with Mr. Lumley, Mdlle. Lind was forbidden to sing +at any public concert. She could not, therefore, have made her +contemplated gift to the Brompton Hospital without Mr. Lumley’s +permission; and he not only gave this, but added to it the loan of the +“Great Concert Room at Her Majesty’s Theatre,” for the morning indicated +in the advertisements. + +The concert was duly announced to take place on Monday, the 31st of +July, 1848. The price of tickets for the reserved seats was fixed at two +guineas each, that for unreserved places, at one guinea. Nine hundred +tickets—mostly reserved—were sold at these high prices, and, the room, +(notwithstanding its imposing title,) being a comparatively small one, +many gentlemen were compelled to stand throughout the entire +performance. Mdlle. Lind herself was strongly opposed, on principle, to +“raised prices,” against which we have already seen her protesting at +Vienna; but, on this occasion, when funds were so urgently needed for a +sacred purpose, she suffered herself to be overruled by the arguments of +Mr. S. C. Hall. + +She was assisted in the business portion of her work, by the Honorary +Secretary—Mr. Philip Rose—and other officers of the charity; and, at the +concert, by Mdlle. Cruvelli, Signori Lablache, Belletti, and Coletti, +MM. Remusat and King (Flautists), and Mr. Cooper (Violinist). Mr. Otto +Goldschmidt also played, at her request, two solos on the +pianoforte.[119] + +A few days after the performance, Mdlle. Lind paid a visit to the +Hospital, giving each of the wards a careful inspection. We can imagine +the satisfaction of the generous donor, when, in passing through the +wards, between the rows of beds in which so many poor pale sufferers lay +stretched on either side, she thought of the augmented number now +rendered possible through her exertions. The success of her scheme +extended far beyond the sum it actually placed at the disposal of the +committee, for it gave a notable impulse to the collection of funds for +the work in hand. The Eastern Wing was no longer thought of as a remote +possibility. The committee were justified, now, in making the necessary +arrangements for its rapid completion; and when it was opened, and made +ready for the reception of patients, in 1855, its first floor, +containing ten wards for the accommodation of female sufferers, was +called “The Jenny Lind Gallery,” as the corresponding portion of the +Western Wing had been previously named “The Victoria Gallery” in token +of gratitude to Her Majesty, the Patroness of the charity; and, at the +same time, one of the ten new wards within the “Jenny Lind Gallery” was +named after Mrs. S. C. Hall. + +In spite of her rooted antipathy to the presentation of testimonials, in +recognition of her works of charity, Mdlle. Lind had not the heart to +refuse that which was offered to her in the name of the recipients of +her bounty at Brompton, in the form of a beautiful silver salver, twenty +inches broad, bearing in its centre an engraving of the unfinished +building, with the following delicately-worded inscription:— + + IN THE NAME OF THE SUFFERERS RELIEVED BY HER BOUNTY, + THIS HUMBLE MEMORIAL OF ONE OF HER NOBLE ACTIONS + IS PRESENTED + + TO JENNY LIND + + BY THE COMMITTEE OF MANAGEMENT + OF THE HOSPITAL FOR CONSUMPTION AT BROMPTON, LONDON, + AS A SLIGHT TOKEN OF THEIR ESTEEM AND GRATITUDE, + AND IN COMMEMORATION OF THE CONCERT GIVEN BY HER + ON THE THIRTY-FIRST DAY OF JULY, MDCCCXLVIII, + ON WHICH OCCASION, THROUGH THE EXERTION OF HER + UNRIVALLED TALENTS, + ONE THOUSAND SEVEN HUNDRED AND SIXTY-SIX POUNDS + WERE ADDED TO THE FUNDS OF THE CHARITY + AND A SOLID FOUNDATION LAID FOR COMPLETING THE FABRIC, + THE UNFINISHED CONDITION OF WHICH HAD EXCITED + HER GENEROUS SYMPATHY. + + “BLESSED ARE THE MERCIFUL, FOR THEY SHALL OBTAIN MERCY.”[120] + +On the seventh anniversary of the opening of the Hospital, celebrated in +1849, the late Lord Beaconsfield—then, the Right Hon. B. Disraeli—paid +perhaps the aptest and most beautiful tribute on record to the generous +action of Mdlle. Lind in relation to the charity, in a speech delivered +in presence of the Governor, and a crowded audience. + + “The generosity of Mdlle. Lind to the Hospital,” said the great + Statesman, “can only be characterised as marvellous. It comes upon us, + as it were, in a heavenly burst of music that charms every sense, and + touches every heart—a sweet carol of charity that fills the popular + ear with bewilderment, sympathy, and rapture. + + “I look upon the conduct of this lady as one of the most remarkable + features of the age we live in. I know nothing in classic story, or in + those feudal epochs when we are taught that the individual was more + influential, when character was more forcible—I know nothing to be + compared with the career of this admirable woman. Why, gentlemen, it + almost reaches the high ideal of human nature when we portray to + ourselves a youthful maiden, innocent and benignant, in the possession + of an unparalleled and omnipotent charm, alternately entrancing the + heart of nations, and then kneeling at the tomb of suffering, of + calamity, and of care. + + “And, gentlemen, I, for one, honour Jenny Lind above all things, + because she has shown that she comprehends her position, and that a + great artist, sustained by virtue, upheld by self-respect, and full of + the magnificence of her mission, ranks in the highest class of human + beings and human benefactors.” + +And thus, in the midst of her second London season, was inaugurated the +first of that long line of noble works which have surrounded the name of +Jenny Lind with a halo more bright than even that enkindled by the fire +of her genius. + + + + + CHAPTER V. + “ELIJAH.” + + +The London season was now at the zenith of its brilliancy, but its +successes did not make Mdlle. Lind forget her friends in Germany. In the +midst of the general excitement, she wrote to Frau von Kaulbach:— + + “London, July 10, 1848. + + “It was very hard indeed for me to take upon myself, for this year + also, the frightful responsibility of supporting the Opera, here. But + it was my duty to do so; for it rested with me, whether Lumley should + be ruined, and the whole theatre fall to the ground, or not; and the + public rewards me in so many ways, and shows me so much attention, + that I have nothing to regret. + + “I go, this year also, to the (English) provinces; but then I shall + have done, and shall leave the _grande carrière_ behind me, and shall + only work in Sweden for my pleasure—that is, for my School. + + “There you have pretty nearly all that I shall undertake. If anything + very important should happen, I will be sure to tell you; but, till + then, believe nothing—and, before all things, do not believe that I + have a bad heart. I hope I have grown better; for, since I saw you, I + have passed through many things, and have not been without + temptations. What reason have I to be vain now that I had not before?” + +As the season drew near its close, she wrote to her guardian, Judge +Munthe, a noteworthy letter, in which she gave the first hint in writing +of a project no less weighty in its bearing upon Art than her scheme for +the completion of the Brompton Hospital was in its relation to Charity:— + + “Clairville Cottage, Old Brompton, Aug. 14, 1848. + + “I am going to sing a few times more this year, and therefore I shall + not have done with London before the 24th inst. + + “We go to the provinces on the 4th of September, and begin by a + concert in Birmingham on the 5th. On my return to London I intend to + give, in conjunction with many others, a grand concert for the + foundation of a School of Music in memory of Mendelssohn, the object + of which will be to receive pupils of all nations and promote their + musical training; and we have chosen his last work, _Elijah_, to + illustrate it. If this enterprise proves successful I shall be very + glad and happy. If I do not come home this autumn, I intend to work in + Germany, for this purpose, part of next winter.” + +Truly, there were schemes enough in contemplation, and but little +unoccupied time at command for the elaboration of their details. + +Her Majesty’s Theatre closed, for the season of 1848, on the 26th of +August, with a concert for the benefit of the Chorus; and a few days +afterwards, Mdlle. Lind started in company with Mons. Roger, the great +French tenor, Signor Belletti, Signor Frederic Lablache, and some other +artists of less celebrity, on a provincial tour of a more decidedly +dramatic character than that which she had undertaken in 1847. + +She left London on the 4th of September, on which day she wrote to her +friend, Madame Wichmann:— + + “Clairville, September 4, 1848. + + “I was not a little astonished, when I received your last letter from + Interlaken. I was as happy as a Queen, to know that you are now + leaving Berlin. My heart bounds with joy, when I think of meeting you + in Italy, or elsewhere. Perhaps our long-cherished idea may be + realised, after all. + + “I have many plans in my head, and, in case rest should again be + denied me, I may still have to go on working for a longer time. + + “To-day, I begin by going to the English provinces, for two, or + perhaps three months. After that begins a matter about which I will + tell you. + + “I wish, in conjunction with one of Mendelssohn’s most intimate + friends, to contribute something towards a Music School in his memory; + and, for this purpose, I propose, in the month of November, to give a + grand concert in London. But I hope, in any case, to have finished all + by the new year at the latest.” + +The tour began with a concert at Birmingham, on the 5th of September, +followed by one at Liverpool, on the 7th, and performances of _Lucia_ +and _La Sonnambula_, at Manchester, on the 9th and 11th. Mdlle. Lind +also sang in _La Sonnambula_, _Lucia di Lammermoor_, _I Puritani_, and +_La Figlia del Reggimento_, at Manchester, Hull, Newcastle, Edinburgh, +Glasgow, Dublin, and Brighton; and gave concerts, with scarcely less +success, in almost every place of any great importance in England. + +The entry in Mdlle. Lind’s engagement-book of the performance of _La +Figlia del Reggimento_ at Brighton, on the 3rd of November, is followed +by eight notes of exclamation—“Brighton. Regimentets Dotter!!!!!!!!”—and +a thick black line is drawn across the page, beneath the entry, +evidently intimating that she intended this to be her last appearance on +the Stage—as it really would have been, but for the six supplementary +performances to be hereafter noticed. + +The meaning of this entry in the _Annotations-Bok_ is corroborated, in a +very remarkable manner, by a passage in the diary of Mons. Roger, the +great French Artist who sang with Mdlle. Lind throughout her last +dramatic tour. The entry runs thus:— + + “Friday, Nov. 3. _La Figlia del Reggimento._—A greater crowd, and + greater heat, than at _La Sonnambula_. In the last Act, during the + _ritournelle_ of the _Rondo Finale_, Lind said to me under her breath, + ‘Mark this well, Roger, these are the last notes that you will hear me + sing on the Stage.’—I stood stupefied. + + “Is it true? Is her career finished? At the apogee of her success does + she renounce the Stage! There is no time for me to ask her for an + explanation—she sings—the public, enchanted, applauds—it knows not + that it is losing her;—and then, it is my turn to sing, and I must put + on a happy air, since I am to espouse her—but, in truth, my heart was + distressed.”[121] + +On the 4th of December, Mdlle. Lind gave a concert, at Leeds, for the +Orchestra which accompanied her, realising £640 for division among its +members. Mrs. Grote has left us, in her Note-book, a graphic account of +the events that took place at this period. + + “Her progress in the provinces,” she says, “was extraordinary; for the + intense interest and admiration she excited in the various cities she + visited, and the passionate eagerness to get even a glimpse of her, as + evinced by the middle and lower classes, were truly marvellous. + + “Early in December I was with her at Oxford, where she gave a morning + concert in the ‘Theatre’ or Senate House. Eighteen hundred persons + were present, and the enthusiasm of the students was most diverting. + + “Next we posted across to Rugby, in order to proceed to Leeds, where + Jenny gave a concert for the profit of her own little orchestra, and + £640 was realised, each man getting about £36,—a pretty ‘wind-up’ to a + most agreeable and lucrative three months’ _tournée_. + + “After the concert, and about midnight, Jenny gave a _Soirée_ to the + band, and we kept it up till 3 A.M., with dancing and a famous good + supper, after which Jenny made a speech, proposing Balfe’s health; + and, after that, another to her band, drinking all _their_ ‘healths,’ + and bidding them farewell and prosperity. + + “Her address was given with feeling and taste, and the effect it had + upon her guests was evidently profound. I was very near crying during + the response, which was _her_ health, with harmonious chords and + _vivas_ from all lips. Balfe made her a speech, thanking her in the + name of the _troupe_, and paid her some lofty, but heartfelt + compliments, in neat and appropriate phraseology. The evening was very + delightful altogether, and we all parted with regret, returning to + London on the morrow with Mr. Lumley.” + +This generous and graceful act accomplished, Mdlle. Lind returned for +ten days, to London, for the purpose of carrying out the great +enterprise which, during the last few months, had occupied so much of +her attention, and which she now felt sure of bringing to a successful +issue. + +The noble idea of commemorating Mendelssohn’s genius, by the foundation +of a Music-School in his name, presented itself to some of his most +intimate friends, not very many months after his early death. + +The exact details of its origin have not transpired; but we have seen +that Mdlle. Lind first mentioned it in writing, in a letter addressed to +Judge Munthe, on the 14th of August, 1848; and again, in another written +to Madame Wichmann, on the 4th of September—_i.e._, exactly ten months +after Mendelssohn’s death. And now, at last, after four months of +careful deliberation, the time had arrived for putting the great design +into execution. + +The idea was a noble one indeed, well worthy of being carried out to its +fullest extent, had this proved to have been possible. And what more +worthy means could have been devised for raising the funds needed for +putting it into execution, than the scheme proposed by Mdlle. Lind—the +presentation to the public of his last and greatest Oratorio, in the +most perfect form that the united talent of the most accomplished +singers and instrumentalists in England could achieve? + +This was the bold idea, in furtherance of which, she invited her artist +friends to assist her in a grand performance of _Elijah_, at Exeter +Hall, on Friday, the 15th of December. + +And, in selecting this as the most fitting work for her memorial +purpose, she did so, not only because she believed it to be the greatest +work her friend had produced, but because she knew that he would himself +have chosen it as the one best fitted for the display of her own +peculiar powers, since he had composed the soprano part expressly for +her, although she had been prevented, by unforeseen circumstances, from +singing it in public during his life-time. + +The result of her labours may be gathered from the following critique +which appeared in _The Times_, on the day after the celebration:— + + “The grand performance of the Oratorio of _Elijah_, in aid of the + ‘Mendelssohn Foundation for Free Scholarships in the Leipzig Musical + Conservatory,’ took place last night. + + “Exeter Hall was filled, in every part, by one of the most brilliant + and fashionable audiences ever assembled in a public edifice. His + Royal Highness the Duke of Cambridge, with the Duchess and Princess of + Cambridge, the Prince and Princesses of Hohenlohe, the Hanoverian + Minister, Count Kielmansegge, and suite, occupied the northern + gallery, near the orchestra. The Archbishop of Canterbury, the Bishops + of London and Norwich, the Prussian Ambassador, etc., were in the + reserved seats in the area. + + “We have already stated that Mdlle. Lind had liberally accorded her + gratuitous services for this occasion; and we are now enabled to add + that she doubled the value of her assistance, and the obligation of + those interested in the Mendelssohn Foundation, by attending every one + of the rehearsals, private and public, arriving at the beginning, and + remaining until the end, in order to ensure, as far as she was + concerned, a perfect execution of Mendelssohn’s immortal work, which + she has studied expressly for the occasion. + + “The performance last night was complete and splendid; well worthy of + the cause for which it was instituted, and a considerable sum will be + devoted, by its means, to the advancement of the Mendelssohn + Foundation at Leipzig.” + +It would be beside our purpose to trace the history of the “Mendelssohn +Scholarships” from this splendid beginning to the final success of the +movement. But it is satisfactory to know that Mdlle. Lind’s intentions +with regard to them have long been carried out, both in the spirit and +the letter, and will continue to be so carried out in perpetuity, though +only to a certain limited extent, since many modifications of the +original plan were found necessary, before the Foundation was +permanently established. We cannot, however, doubt that Mdlle. Lind’s +name will be remembered, in connection with the Memorial she raised to +her departed friend, for many a century to come—for the Foundation is +legally secured, and remains in perpetuity. + + + + + CHAPTER VI. + FOR CHARITY. + + +The tribute to the memory of Mendelssohn, with its careful preparation, +its busy work, and its triumphant result, might well have exhausted the +powers, both mental and physical, of an artist of no ordinary strength; +but Mdlle. Lind had no time for rest. Four days later she was due at +Manchester; and, within little more than six weeks, she had engaged to +give five more concerts, entirely for charitable purposes, besides a +benefit for Mr. Balfe. + +The campaign began with two concerts, given on the 19th and 21st of +December, for the “Manchester Royal Infirmary and Dispensary,” which, +like the “Brompton Hospital for Consumption,” sorely needed additional +accommodation. These two concerts produced a sum exceeding £2,500, which +was made to serve as the nucleus of a fund for the erection of an +additional “North Wing.” + +The next performance took place on the 28th of December, for the benefit +of the “Queen’s College Hospital” at Birmingham, for which it produced +£1,100, and in acknowledgment of which, the Governors of the Institution +presented her with a work-box, ornamented with the following +inscription:— + + To MADEMOISELLE JENNY LIND + + FROM THE LORD PRINCIPAL AND COUNCIL OF THE + QUEEN’S COLLEGE AND HOSPITAL, BIRMINGHAM, + AS A SMALL TESTIMONY OF THEIR SENSE OF OBLIGATION + FOR HER VERY NOBLE AND GRATUITOUS SERVICES + AT A CONCERT + HELD IN THE TOWN HALL + ON BEHALF OF THE FUNDS OF THE + QUEEN’S HOSPITAL + DECEMBER 28TH, 1848. + +And now came a few days of well-earned recreation—a Christmas and New +Year’s gathering at Crumpsall, near Manchester, the country-house of Mr. +and Mrs. Salis Schwabe, for which Mdlle. Lind had accepted the +invitation, more than a month in advance. + +All too soon, however, the pleasant little holiday came to an end. It +had been the delight of all who were fortunate enough to be present at +it; and, though she to whose labours it had given so cheerful a respite +at that busy time is now no more, it is still remembered by many as a +bright spot in the past. + +The next appointment was for a concert, to be given on the 6th of +January, 1849, for the benefit of the “Southern Hospital” at Liverpool, +for which, with the never-failing success which was now looked for as a +matter of course, the sum of £1,400 was raised, in a single evening. + +And now it was time to prepare for a second visit to Norwich, in which, +to this day, the memory of Mdlle. Lind is regarded with greater +veneration than in any other Cathedral-town in England. + +Two concerts, arranged to take place on the 22nd and 23rd of January, +for the benefit of the poor of Norwich, realised the net sum of £1,253. + +No specific plan was decided upon, at the moment, for the application of +this sum of money, which was placed, provisionally, in the hands of +trustees, in order that the matter might receive due consideration, +before any irrevocable step was taken with regard to its ultimate +disposal. It was proposed, at one time, to devote the proceeds of the +concerts to the building of baths and wash-houses for the poor. This +plan, however, was not put into execution; and the question remained +open for four years, during which period the money was placed out at +interest. A final decision was, however, arrived at, in 1853, when +Madame Goldschmidt, in consultation with the Stanley family and other +friends, resolved to devote the fund to the foundation of a hospital for +the sick children of the poor. Under the name of “The Jenny Lind +Infirmary for Sick Children,” this institution still exists, in a very +flourishing condition. The original nucleus was by no means the last +donation that the foundress contributed to its endowment. She continued +to take deep interest in it, until the day of her death; and so largely +has its sphere of usefulness increased, that, in the year 1890, it +relieved no less than 1230 “out-patients,” in addition to the 257 little +sufferers who were admitted as “in-patients” into its wards.[122] + +The next concert at which Mdlle. Lind sang, after taking leave of her +friends at Norwich, was one given in London, on the 29th of January, for +the benefit of Mr. Balfe, whose warm artistic devotion as conductor at +the Opera she spoke of, to the end of her life, with grateful +recognition. + +This was followed, four days later, by a performance of great importance +in aid of the “Royal Infirmary,” at Worcester. + +The Bishop of Worcester had written to Mdlle. Lind, in November, 1847, +requesting her to sing at the Worcester Festival—the triennial +performance in connection with the “Three Choirs”—in August, 1848; and +she had consented to do so, if she found it possible to make the +necessary arrangements. But, when the time for the fulfilment of her +conditional promise drew near, Mr. Lumley, whose engagement with her did +not expire until the end of the year, not only refused his consent, but +announced her for a concert at Birmingham, on the very day on which the +Worcester Festival began. In order to atone, as far as she could, for +this disappointment—a very grievous one indeed for the Worcester +Committee—she sent the sum of £50, from her own private purse, for the +charity in aid of which the Festival was given—the “Society for the +Relief of the Widows and Orphans of the Clergy”; and, as soon as she had +completed her engagement with the theatrical manager, offered to give a +concert for any other charity in the diocese that might stand in need of +her help. While gratefully accepting the generous offer, the Committee +decided in favour of the “Worcester Royal Infirmary,” as the recipient +of its benefits; and, on the 2nd of February, 1849, Mdlle. Lind gave a +concert, in the College Hall, at which the sum of £840 was raised for +this purpose, and devoted to the erection of a chapel for the +Institution. The Committee was very anxious to record its appreciation +of the gift by offering to the donor a present of Worcester china; but +this she firmly but courteously declined to accept; for, as we have +already seen, she had always been most unwilling to receive any sort of +acknowledgment in return for her charitable performances. + +And thus, between the 4th of December, 1848, and the 2nd of February, +1849—a period of less than nine weeks—Mdlle. Lind had, at nine concerts, +(not including that for the benefit of Mr. Balfe,) succeeded in raising +the noble sum of £8,740, in aid of five hospitals, one artistic +memorial, and the orchestra which accompanied her on her tour; and, if +we add to this the receipts of the concert given for the Brompton +Hospital, in the previous July, the sum amounts to £10,500. + + £ _s._ _d._ + For the Brompton Hospital (July 31, 1848) 1,766 15 0 + For the Orchestra (Dec. 4, 1848) 640 0 0 + For the Mendelssohn Scholarships (Dec. 15, 1848) 1,000 0 0 + For the Manchester Hospital (Dec. 19 and 21, 1848) 2,500 0 0 + For the Queen’s College Hospital, at Birmingham (Dec. + 28, 1848) 1,100 0 0 + For the Southern (Toxteth) Hospital, at Liverpool + (Jan. 6, 1849) 1,400 0 0 + For the Norwich Charities[123] (Jan. 22 and 23, 1849) 1,253 0 0 + For the Worcester Infirmary (Feb. 2, 1849) 840 0 0 + —————— —— — + Total 10,499 15 0 + —————— —— — + +On the 3rd of April, 1849, a performance of _The Creation_ was +announced, at Exeter Hall, for the aid of five important charities, four +of which were intimately connected with Art: + + “A grand performance of sacred music was given last night,” says the + critic of _The Times_, “consisting of Handel’s _Coronation Anthem_, + _Zadok the Priest_, and Haydn’s _Creation_. + + “The principal attraction, which drew together one of the most crowded + audiences that ever congregated within the precincts of Exeter Hall, + was Mdlle. Jenny Lind, who sang the soprano part in _The Creation_. + + “The main object of the performance was a charitable one. Mdlle. Jenny + Lind accorded her services gratuitously; and, after the band, chorus, + and principal singers are paid, the surplus will be divided between + the ‘Royal Society of Musicians,’ the ‘Society of Female Musicians,’ + the ‘Choral Fund,’ the ‘Royal Academy of Music,’ and the ‘Governesses’ + Benevolent Institution.’ The receipts averaged, we understand, between + £1,400 and £1,500, which will guarantee at least £850 for the benefit + of those institutions. + + “The performance was honoured by the presence of Her Majesty and + Prince Albert, who attended with a numerous suite. In the stalls, + among other illustrious persons, was observed the Duke of Wellington. + + “In the Oratorio of _The Creation_, the most arduous as well as the + most interesting portion of the music falls to the lot of the soprano; + Mdlle. Jenny Lind, however, is never at a loss, where true sentiment + and musical cleverness are demanded. Her first effort was the Air, + with Chorus, _The marvellous work_, which she gave with a dignity of + style suited to the subject. In _With verdure clad_, and the + Recitative that precedes it, we had already heard her at Balfe’s + concert, and our favourable opinion was recorded at the time. She sang + it perhaps still better last night; there was more fervour, with equal + correctness. But the Solo which most taxes the powers of the vocalist, + and from which most was expected by the public, was the opening + Recitative and Air of the Second Part, _On mighty pens the eagle + wings_. On this Air, which is more dramatic than sacred in character, + Mdlle. Lind lavished all the treasures of her art; and her entire + rendering of the melody was as original as it was striking. In the + line— + + “‘And, cooing, calls the tender dove his mate,’ + + she produced quite a novel effect, by sustaining the note that occurs + on the first syllable of the word ‘cooing,’ for a lengthened period. + + “One of the most general topics of conversation and marked approval + was the exceeding clearness with which Mdlle. Lind pronounced the + words of all her Songs, Duets, and Trios. In this particular, she + evinced a facility, not merely noticeable on account of her being a + foreigner, but worthy of attention as an example even for many singers + to whom the English language is native and familiar.”[124] + +From a paragraph which appeared in _The Times_ on the 17th of April, we +find that the profits of the concert fell rather short of the +anticipated amount. + + “But,” says the editor, quoting from _The Standard_ of the previous + day, “to her great honour and benevolent disposition be it recorded, + she has signified her intention to make up the net profit of £700 odd + to £800; so that the four charities will each receive £200.”[125] + +We refrain from adding anything to this critique, which expresses all +that need be said on the subject. Nor does it fall within the limits of +our design to dilate upon the later triumphs achieved by Mdlle. Lind in +the new path she had chosen for the development of her powers. She gave +only one more Oratorio performance in England, before her departure for +America—that of Handel’s _Messiah_, at Liverpool, on the 19th of August, +1850; but she had not yet taken leave of her audience at Her Majesty’s +Theatre, and thither we must now follow her, to be present at the +performance which closed the splendours of her _Operatic_ career. + + + + + CHAPTER VII. + THE LAST OPERA. + + +When Mr. Lumley began to make his arrangements for the season of 1849, +he was much exercised by uncertainty as to Mdlle. Lind’s intentions for +the future. No engagement had been made, at the close of the previous +season: and in the meantime, rumours were rife as to her retirement from +the Stage, which was said to be imminent. + +It must be confessed that Mr. Lumley was in a difficult position. +Unfortunately, his faith in Mdlle. Lind’s reliance upon the judgment of +Mrs. Grote had led him to expect a great deal more from that lady’s +influence upon the retiring Artist than was warranted by the true +circumstances of the case. Mrs. Grote herself knew perfectly well how +absolutely impregnable was the decision at which Mdlle. Lind had +arrived. But it is evident that she did not succeed in making the +unhappy manager understand, so clearly as he ought to have done, how +matters then stood. He believed that there was still room for hope; and, +harassed by anxiety, tormented by doubts of his own creation with regard +to the unknown future, he followed the example of the public, and +formed, on what he conceived to be “undoubted authority,” strange +theories of his own, destitute of any sort of foundation in fact. + +The Opera-House opened for the season, in 1849, amidst as rough a “sea +of doubts and perplexities,” as that which had prevailed in 1847. The +public would not be satisfied without the re-engagement of Mdlle. Lind; +and, before long, it was authoritatively announced—and, this time, with +perfect truth—that Mdlle. Lind had positively determined to appear no +more upon the Stage. A hundred different reasons, all equally false, and +equally unauthorised, were given for this determination—but, whatever +the true reason might have been, the fact remained, that never again +could the public hope to see its favourite upon the boards of Her +Majesty’s Theatre. + +Mr. Lumley was in despair. In face of the attractions offered at the +rival establishment, this determination meant, for him, nothing short of +irremediable disaster—of absolute ruin—unless he could stave off the +evil day by a clever _coup de main_. As a matter of fact, he actually +did effect this _coup de main_, not very long afterwards, by the +engagement of the Contessa de’ Rossi, formerly Mdlle. Sontag. With that +stroke of policy we are, however, in no wise concerned. It is enough for +us to know that Mdlle. Lind continued inexorable; and that it was only +after reiterated entreaties, that she consented to enter into an +engagement for six “Grand Classical Performances,” in which the music of +her favourite Operas was to be sung, at a series of concerts, without +the attractions of the stage. It was at first proposed that these +performances should take place in Exeter Hall. But the objections to +this place were insuperable. This condition, therefore, was afterwards +waived; and, in due time, it was announced in the managerial prospectus +that Mdlle. Lind would sing in six concerts at Her Majesty’s Theatre. + +It would have needed but a very little calm consideration, to convince +all concerned that a compromise such as this could not by any +possibility succeed—that its failure was assured, beforehand. The +experiment was, however, tried, on Thursday, the 12th of April, with +Mozart’s _Il Flauto Magico_; but it broke down so signally that no +attempt was ever made to repeat it. All that could be done in the +Concert-room Mdlle. Lind did; but, unhappily, that “all” was not enough. +She sang the music magnificently; and the critics did her full justice +in analysing her performance. She had sung so faultlessly that the +critic of _The Times_ had been completely disarmed; so enthralled by the +spell she cast over her audience, that, throughout the whole of his +notice, he had not ventured to utter one single word of protest against +the fatal mistake she had made. Yet, the signs of that mistake were +patent to every one; and no one felt the bitterness of the position more +keenly than Mdlle. Lind herself. For the first time, since her first +great European triumph, she had failed to express her own ideal—not from +lack of artistic power, but from lack of means external to it. How could +the threatened ruin be averted? In one way only. She felt this, at once; +and, with a depth of self-renunciation well worthy of her generous +character, she sacrificed the freedom which had so long been the desire +of her heart, and permitted Mr. Lumley to make an official announcement, +to the effect, that, “Although Mdlle. Lind had intended to take leave of +the subscribers to the Opera, and the public, in a series of concerts, +yet, as it had been urged that concerts would not be regarded as equally +satisfactory, she had generously consented to suspend her intention of +retiring from the stage, and would therefore appear in a few more +performances.” + +The delight of the public surpassed all bounds. The subscribers forgot +their late discontent, and appeared in crowds to welcome her on her +re-appearance. The house was filled to overflowing. Every incident +connected with the now-familiar “Jenny Lind crush” was renewed at the +doors. And even Mr. Lumley himself was satisfied with the enthusiasm +manifested both by the occupants of the subscription boxes and the +general public. + +Her Majesty and Prince Albert were among the first to welcome their +favourite artist’s return to the stage from which, as we have seen, she +had told the Queen it was her intention to retire. As she was felt by +them to act and sing even more exquisitely than she had done the +previous season, they hailed her appearance with deep satisfaction, not +unmingled with sadness that the pleasure was one which could not often +be repeated, as the singer’s resolution to quit the operatic stage was +now well known. Only once were they able to see the _Figlia del +Reggimento_—always a special favourite with the Queen. But they were +present twice at the performance both of _La Sonnambula_ and _Lucia di +Lammermoor_; and on the 10th of May, they saw her, with much regret, for +the last time upon the stage, in _Roberto il Diavolo_, the piece in +which her acting and singing had, as already shown, first laid a strong +hold upon their admiration.[126] + +The scene of the last farewell is thus feelingly described in the +columns of _The Times_:— + + “During the whole of Mdlle. Lind’s engagement this season there has + not been so extraordinary a spectacle as was exhibited last night, + when, as the bills stated, her ‘Last Operatic Performance’ was to take + place. + + “The difference of her reception when she sang at the ‘Classical + Concert’ from that when she reappeared in _La Sonnambula_ must have + struck any one who witnessed the two scenes. Though the theatre was + the same, and the bulk of the audience nearly the same, on both + occasions, she was greeted in the character of ‘Amina’ just as if she + had been making her _début_, and the preceding concerts had never been + given. Hence, the public, who thought that they were witnessing, for + the last time, the combination of Jenny Lind the actress with Jenny + Lind the vocalist, were not so much mistaken in giving all the force + of a final interview to their visit last night. + + “_Roberto il Diavolo_, which, on the Italian stage, has never been + very popular as a whole, but which has depended for its attraction on + the ‘Alice’ of Mdlle. Lind, was the Opera selected. The character in + which she first sang before a London audience was chosen as the one in + which she was to take her leave. + + “_Quando lascia la Normandia_, with the immortal _sotto voce_ shake + which has so often astonished her hearers, drew down the accustomed + _encore_; and the clinging to the Cross, with terror in the shrink, + and faith in the countenance, seemed even more striking than usual, as + a display of histrionic power. The increased sweetness and fulness of + her voice, this year, has been a theme of universal remark; and never + was it more melodious than last night. + + “The applause which she received at the conclusion of the Opera was + something remarkable. She was called three times, by an audience that + occupied even the obscurest nooks of the edifice, and that universally + rose when she appeared; and so continuous were the plaudits, that they + blended with each other into one roll of heavy sound. At the last + call, she appeared, particularly moved. + + “During the early part of the Opera, there was a tumult in the house, + occasioned by the crowd. + + “Her Majesty, Prince Albert, and the Duchess of Kent, honoured the + theatre with their presence.” + +With what feelings did Mdlle. Lind see the curtain descend, for the last +time, on that thrilling scene in _Roberto il Diavolo_, in which, as she +herself narrated in after years, she “stood at the man’s right hand, and +the Fiend at his left, and all she could think of was, how to save him”? +Was it really a heavy trial through which she had elected to pass? Did +she herself feel sad when the last note faded into silence, and Bertram +sank through the trap-door into the fiery depths below? Who can tell? +She never spoke of such a sadness, in after life. That the last round of +applause, the last wild shout from pit and stalls and gallery and boxes, +was absolutely nothing to her, we know well enough. It could not but be +less than nothing. She was too well accustomed to it all. Since her +first appearance in _The Polish Mine_, in 1830, the stage had won for +her her daily bread. For her, the excitement, the romance, the glamour, +the thousand enticing charms which fascinate so many _prime donne_ had +no existence. Her “first appearance” was a dim memory of childhood, +bearing no analogy whatever to the intoxicating _début_ for which most +young artists long, as the Peri longed for Paradise, at the precious +period during which their thoughts ought to be exclusively devoted to +study. To her, the stage, with its cold _coulisses_, and its ceaseless +round of monotonous hard work, was as prosaic as the routine of the +school-room to a jaded governess. The simile strikes home, for the stage +had really been her school-room ever since she was ten years old. + +But there was another side to the question. However little she may +have cared for fame, she cared very much indeed for the Art to which +she had devoted the best of all she possessed. And, for Art, in one of +its purest and most perfect manifestations, the evening of the 10th of +May was a very sad one. For, that last fall of the curtain put an end, +for ever, to the operatic triumphs of the most gifted actress-singer +the nineteenth century had produced—put an end to them, beyond all +hope of renewal; with the absolute certainty, impressed upon the minds +of all who were present, that no subsequent change of circumstances +would ever induce the Arch-Priestess of Song, whose genius had +enthralled them as they had never been enthralled before, to reverse +the decision at which she had then arrived. She had written, in her +engagement-book, at Brighton, “My last Opera-Representation”—“_min +sista Opera-Representation_”—and she had meant it. There were to be no +more “last nights,” after the manner to which the “Opera-going public” +were only too well accustomed; no supplementary performances, “by +special desire,” to be succeeded, in the following year, by “twelve +more last appearances,” culminating in a “grand farewell,” in which +she would perform “positively for the last time.” She had already +appeared upon the stage “for the last time;” and all who had seen her +knew it. + +Truly, this last farewell performance was impressed with a double +significance, not easy to describe in words. For the great World of Art, +no day so sad as this 10th of May, in 1849, had passed since the 4th of +November, in 1847. She knew this well—and she must have sympathised with +those who so deeply and sincerely regretted her retirement. Yet, for +her, it brought the freedom, the rest, the peace, that she had longed +for, year after year, from the moment of her first triumphs in +Art-loving Germany. + +How welcome that peace and freedom were, we can divine from the early +letters in which she told her friends how ardently she looked forward to +her emancipation from the trammels of the stage. And a circumstance +which happened on this last night must have gladdened her heart, so full +of sympathy for her humblest fellow-workers. + +A little more than two months before her retirement, while she was still +on her provincial tour, she had written to Mrs. Stanley:— + + Wakefield, March 6, 1849. + + “I want to give concerts, here in the provinces, for Lumley’s people, + which I could do very quietly, and when I have got the sum I wish for, + then place the money in the hands of my banker in London, to give to + the choristers and most needy people at Her Majesty’s Theatre, which + they (Lumley and his friends) say that I have thrown out of + employment. + + “I suppose Lumley’s vanity will not be satisfied with this proposal— + but that is not my care. My wish is, to help the poor—_voilà tout_. To + sing religious words on the stage I can and will not.” + +There is no record, in Mdlle. Lind’s “Engagement-book,” of any special +concerts given, in the provinces, for “Lumley’s people”; but it is more +than probable that a portion of the receipts of some of the general +performances were applied to their benefit. Be this as it may, they +possessed Mdlle. Lind’s sympathy, in the warmest degree; and returned +it, with all their hearts. So devoted were they to her, that, on that +last evening, when all was over, the members of the chorus presented her +with a gold bracelet, on the inside of which was engraved:— + + PRESENTED TO + MDLLE. JENNY LIND + BY THE MEMBERS OF THE + CHORAL DEPARTMENT OF + HER MAJESTY’S THEATRE + AS A TOKEN OF THEIR + ESTEEM AND ADMIRATION. + MAY 10TH, 1849. + +And so the last farewell was accompanied by a touching incident quite +apart from the demonstration in which the outer world took a share; and +we may be very sure that Mdlle. Lind remembered it, long after the sound +of the last round of applause had been forgotten; and that she prized +the simple jewel—now in the possession of her daughter—not a whit less +dearly than the costly gems presented to her by the great ones of the +earth. + +With the presentation of this most delicate memorial, the fateful +evening came to an end; and with it, the operatic career of one whose +name will live, in connection with the Musical Drama, as long as the +Musical Drama itself exists. + + + + + CHAPTER VIII. + THE “METHOD.” + + +Our readers will naturally expect us, in summing up our history of +Mdlle. Lind’s performances upon the stage, to furnish them with some +technical remarks upon the _timbre_ and compass of her voice, and the +“method” by aid of which she cultivated it. + +The voice was a brilliant and powerful Soprano, combining the volume and +sonority of the true _Soprano drammatico_—to which class of voices it +unquestionably belonged—with the lightness and flexibility peculiar to +the more ductile and airy _Soprano sfogato_, with the characteristic +tenuity of which it had, however, nothing in common. + +Its compass extended from B below the stave, to G on the fourth line +above it—in technical language, from b to G̿; that is to say, a clear +range of two octaves and a sixth, as shown in the subjoined diagram:— + +[Illustration: + + (_a_) The veiled notes in the middle register. + + (_b_) The brilliant head-voice. + + (_c_) The F♯︎ which forms so striking a feature in Mendelssohn’s + _Elijah_. + + (_d_) The ringing upper A, used with such thrilling effect in the + opening movement of _Casta diva_. + + (_e_) The upper C forming, with the above-mentioned A, the initial + passage in the _Tanzlied aus Dalekarlien_. + + (_f_) The F in alt, used by Mozart, in _Non paventar_. + + (_g_) The six natural notes (C, D, E, F, G, A) in the youthful voice, + to be presently described. +] + +The various registers of this extended compass were so skilfully blended +into one, by the effect of art, that it was impossible for the most +delicate or attentive ear to detect their points of junction. In fact, +after the completion of its cultivation under the guidance of Signor +Garcia, the entire voice became one homogeneous whole, so even in its +calibre, that the notes were avowedly sung without a thought as to the +best way of “placing” them. + +Certain regions, however, possessed marked æsthetic qualities, very +clearly distinguishable, though they could be modified, at will, in +accordance with the demands of the passages into which they were +introduced. For instance, three notes of the middle register (the F, G, +and A, shown at (_a_) in the diagram), were invested, in _piano_ +passages, with a veiled tone of ravishing beauty—as in the long-drawn A, +in the middle register, which forms the opening note of _Casta diva_. +These three notes were more seriously injured than any other region of +the voice, by the hard work and faulty method of production that had +been forced upon Mdlle. Lind before her journey to Paris. It is well +known to every experienced _Maestro di Canto_, that more voices are +injured by the attempt to sing these three important notes in the lower +instead of in the middle register, than by any other error of production +whatever; and there can be no doubt that it was this error that caused +so much trouble to Mdlle. Lind, who, notwithstanding the beautiful tone +by which the notes in question were afterwards characterised, assured +Fröken Signe Hebbe[127] that she believed that they “never became quite +right.” + +Of the F♯︎ so much admired by Mendelssohn, the A above it, brought +prominently forward in a syncopated passage in the same slow movement of +_Casta diva_, and the same A, with the C above it, used as the first two +notes in the _Tanzlied aus Dalekarlien_, we have already spoken in +former chapters. + +It was remarkable that these exceptionally high notes, though brilliant +beyond description, when used at their full power, could be reduced to a +_pianissimo_ as perfect as that of the veiled tones of the middle +register. The _pianissimo_, indeed, was one of the most beautiful +features of Mdlle. Lind’s singing. It reached to the remotest corner of +the largest theatre or concert-room in which she sang; it was as rich +and full as her _mezzo forte_; yet it was so truly _piano_ that it fell +upon the ear with the charm of a whisper, only just strong enough to be +audible. The reader will not have forgotten that Her Majesty regarded +this _pianissimo_ as one of the most beautiful characteristics of Mdlle. +Lind’s singing, and that, in the letter we have quoted at page 324, +Chopin spoke of its “charm” as “indescribable.” + +A wholly different effect—though bearing a certain sort of analogy to +this—was produced in the _Norwegian Echo Song_ by a peculiar tightening +of the throat, which Madame Goldschmidt once tried to explain to the +writer, though the process was so purely subjective that she said it was +almost impossible to describe it in words. The effect produced so nearly +resembled that of a natural echo, reverberated from the opposite wall, +that it never failed to mystify an audience before which it was +presented for the first time. + +The notes, C, D, E, F, G, A, marked (_g_) in our diagram, were noticed +by Mdlle. Lind, at a very early period, as the best notes of her voice. +And judging, from their position in the scale, that her voice was +intended by Nature to develope into a Soprano of exceptional height, she +practised these notes, with the semitones between them, more diligently +than any others, with the full determination to extend the process until +the tone of the remaining portions of the voice became as rich, as pure, +and as powerful, as that of the six notes which she regarded as forming +the fundamental basis of the whole. How fully she succeeded in carrying +out this intention we know already; and it is scarcely too much to say, +that it was to this firm resolve, and the clear foresight which prompted +it, that her ultimate success is mainly to be attributed. + +Mdlle. Lind’s voice was not by nature a flexible one. The rich sustained +tones of the _soprano drammatico_ were far more congenial to it, than +the rapid execution which usually characterises the lighter class of +_soprano_ voices. But this she attained also, by almost superhuman +labour. Her perseverance was indefatigable. Among the _Cadenze_ with +which she was accustomed to embellish her favourite Airs was one adapted +to a Movement from _Beatrice di Tenda_, introducing a scale passage +ascending chromatically to the upper E flat, and then descending in the +same manner. She once, while at the zenith of her career, told Fröken +Signe Hebbe that she had practised this passage all her life, but that +it was only quite lately that she had succeeded in satisfying herself +with it; adding, that she never allowed herself to indulge in singing +such difficult passages before the public, until she had thoroughly +mastered them, but preferred simplifying them to running the risk of an +imperfect rendering of the notes. + +Another remarkable feature in Mdlle. Lind’s singing was the shake, which +she delivered, at will, either with unapproachable brilliancy, or in the +form of a whisper, more like the warbling of a bird than the utterance +of a human voice. + +Though it is necessary that a perfect shake should always begin with, +and lay the metrical accent continuously upon, the written note, it is +notorious that most shakes fail through want of attention on the part of +the singer to the upper auxiliary or unwritten note. The general +tendency is to let this note gradually flatten, until, in very bad +cases, the distance between the two notes is diminished from a tone, to +little more than a semitone. So well is this fact known, that the late +Mr. Cipriani Potter once told the writer how he had been taught, in his +youth, to separate the notes so widely that “a cocked hat could be +thrown between them.” Mdlle. Lind devised a cure for this corrupt +delivery of the shake. In teaching, she _began_ by impressing the +_upper_ note upon the ear, as the most important, both as to strength +and duration, at this early stage of the process; leaning, as it were, +upon it, and slurring up to it from the lower interval. She employed for +this purpose, first, the leap of a fifth, then that of a fourth, and so +on, until she reached the semitone, continuing the shake exercise +between the two intervals, _whatever their distance_, for some time, +before proceeding from the wider intervals to a lesser one; always +adhering to the upper note as the most important one; and always making +beginners practise it with extreme slowness.[128] + +The following exemplification of this particular exercise, written, by +herself, a few years ago, for the guidance of a young vocalist, has been +found among her music:— + +[Illustration: A musical staff featuring two sections of sheet music in +common time, with dotted eighth and sixteenth note rhythms, and specific +markings labeled (a) and (b).] + +[Illustration: A musical staff showing two segments of rhythmic notation +in common time, with specific notes labeled (a) and (b) using slurs and +brackets.] + +At a later period of instruction, the notes marked (_a_) and (_b_) were +to be omitted, and the succession of intervals blended into one +continuous exercise, thus:— + +[Illustration: Two musical staves showing rhythmic notation with +repeated dotted eighth and sixteenth note patterns, featuring slurs +across several measures.] + +But it was not until after considerable advance had been made, that the +exercise was allowed to be sung with any degree of quickness. + +When, at last, after diligent practice, the perfect shake was attained, +it was sung with the rhythmic accent on the real or written note, thus:— + +[Illustration: Two musical staves illustrating a trill. The top staff +shows a simple melodic phrase with a trill mark (tr) over a half note, +and the bottom staff shows the same phrase with the trill written out as +a series of thirty-second notes.] + +not thus:— + +[Illustration: A musical staff showing a treble clef with a key +signature of one sharp, featuring a long sequence of thirty-second notes +that represent the execution of a trill.] + +The various effects we have here attempted to describe would have been +impossible, but for that skilful management of the breath of which we +have before had occasion to speak when treating of Mdlle. Lind’s studies +under the guidance of Signor Garcia. Her chest had not the natural +capacity of Mdlle. Alboni’s, or Signor Rubini’s; but she renewed her +breath so rapidly, so quietly, so cleverly, that the closest observer +could never detect the moment at which the lungs were replenished; and, +by the outside world, her extraordinary sustaining power was attributed +to abnormal capacity of the lungs. The apparent ease with which she +attained this difficult end was due to an artfully-studied combination +of the processes technically termed “_costal_,” and “_clavicular_[129] +_breathing_”; in the first of which—used only after the completion of a +distinct phrase of the vocal melody—the lower part or “base” of the +lungs, _freed from the last remains of the previous breath_, is +refilled, to its utmost capacity, without undue precipitation, yet with +sufficient rapidity to answer all practical purposes; while in the +second—used for the continuation of phrases too long for delivery within +the limits of a single inspiration—the lungs are neither completely +_emptied_, nor completely _refilled_, but _replenished_ only, by means +of a gentle inhalation, confined to that portion of the organ which lies +immediately beneath the _claviculæ_, or collar-bones. The skill with +which these two widely different processes were interchanged, when +circumstance demanded their alternate employment, was such as can only +be acquired by long and unwearied practice, untrammelled by prejudice +either for or against any special method whatever; and it is not too +much to say, that it was to the sustaining power, acquired by this +careful management of the breath, that Mdlle. Lind owed her beautiful +_pianissimo_, and that marvellous command of the _messa di voce_ which +enabled her to swell out a _crescendo_ to its utmost limit, and follow +it, without a break, by a _diminuendo_ which died away to an +imperceptible point, so completely covering the end of the note that no +ear could detect the moment at which it faded into silence. + +And no less complete was Mdlle. Lind’s command over the difficulties of +articulation than over those of vocalisation pure and simple. Her +delivery of the difficult—we had almost said, impossible—passage in the +grand _Scena_ from _Der Freischütz_—_Täuscht das Licht des Monds mich +nicht!_[130]—though so clear and distinct that not a syllable lost its +full meaning, was nevertheless so soft and smooth that it could scarcely +have been surpassed in Italian. We do not hesitate to say that she was +the only great singer by whom we have heard this famous _crux_ +surmounted without a trace of harshness in the delivery of the words. On +one occasion Madame Birch-Pfeiffer left her, alone, practising the word +_zersplittre_ (“to shiver to pieces”), on a high B flat, in the opening +Recitative in _Norma_; and, returning several hours afterwards, found +her still practising the same word. And she continued to practise it, +until she succeeded in pronouncing it quite perfectly on the high note, +though few even of the best German vocalists attain a better +pronunciation than _zersplättre_. But she never erred in the delivery of +even the most difficult word in any language whatsoever. So perfect was +the mastery she exercised over larynx, throat, lips, tongue, teeth, soft +palate, each and all, that never a syllable was stifled at its birth, +never a vowel-sound corrupted in its passage through the longest groups +of mingled leap, arpeggio, or scale. It was this high quality that lent +so potent a charm to the complicated “divisions,” the rapid passages of +_fioritura_ of which Lablache, in describing them to Madame Grisi, said +that “every note was a pearl.” The purity of the vowel-sound, by which +the pearls were strung together, secured their perfect equality of tone +and _timbre_; and, whether the most rapid notes were sung _legato_, or +_staccato_, they either ran on velvet, or rang out sharply and clearly +as the touch of a _mandoline_. The _technique_, in either case, was +absolutely faultless, and its perfection was entirely the result of hard +work, indefatigable practice, unwearying study. To the end of her +career, she never sang in the evening without preparing for the +performance by practising for a long time, earlier in the day—generally, +_a mezza voce_, to avoid fatiguing the voice unnecessarily, but, never +sparing the time or trouble. And herein lay the secret of her victory +over difficulties which tempt so many less courageous aspirants to +despair. + +Undoubtedly, the “method” thus diligently cultivated was, in many +points, subjective. Mdlle. Lind felt, but could not always explain, the +principles upon which she worked. We possess, however, a letter written +by her to Fräulein von Jaeger, which enters into some particulars +connected with our present subject of consideration, so curiously +interesting, that we cannot refrain from publishing them, though the +communication bears a date far later than that at which the purely +narrative portion of our work comes to a close. + + “Ems, June 8, 1855. + + “And what is my good Gusti doing? Is she working as industriously as + ever at her singing? + + “The chief thing that I have to say, to-day, concerns that part of + Friedrich Schmitt’s ‘Singing-school’ of which you wish for an + explanation.[131] + + “I do not think you have rightly understood the point. Read the + paragraph again, and it will surely become clearer to you. + + “Naturally, he does not mean that you are to attack a note twice; but + that, before you sound the note, the larynx must be properly prepared + in the position in which the forthcoming sound lies, whether high or + low. The result of this is a firm attack; and, as soon as you have + sounded one note, you must spring so nimbly on all those above—or + below it—that no rift can be detected between the sounds; and, in this + way, the completion of the phrase is accomplished without a break. For + instance, the notes + +[Illustration: A musical staff with a treble clef showing three quarter +notes ascending in pitch.] + + must so hang together that they make one whole; and this results from + binding and striking them, at one and the same time—if I may so + express myself—though it is almost impossible to explain this clearly + in words. But I have often spoken to my Gusti about this, and shown it + to her. It lies in the flexibility of the larynx, and must therefore + be practised. Sing your exercise, then, so that this flexibility of + the throat may be quickly developed. The attack of the single notes + will thus be improved; and the string of notes will follow.” + +Madame Goldschmidt is quite right, when she says that “it is almost +impossible to explain this clearly, in words.” No one knew, better than +she did, that the best ‘Singing-schools’ that ever were published are +useless without the aid of a teacher; for until she found a teacher in +Signor Garcia, she wandered daily farther and farther from the true +path, until, in the end, her voice but narrowly escaped from utter +destruction. When once the truth was pointed out to her, her quick +perception and unerring musical instinct enabled her to grasp it at a +glance; and, when once she began to practise upon true principles, the +difficulties she had formerly experienced with regard to the method of +voice-production were at an end. + +On one point she always insisted very strongly. She had an innate hatred +of the contortions with which so many vocalists of inferior order +disfigure their features when delivering the passages they wish to +render most impressive. She was never satisfied with a song, unless the +singer “looked pleasant.” She regarded singing as a beautiful gift of +Nature; a gift for which those who possess it should feel truly +thankful, and proclaim their thankfulness by the expression of their +features. She had a horror of careless articulation, even in speaking. +And she felt firmly persuaded that the practice of singing, on the true +“method,” tended to the invigoration of the body, and especially of a +weak chest. She even thought that the lives of many persons with a +tendency to consumption might have been prolonged, if they had learned +to breathe, and sing, in the right way—an opinion which is held by many +medical authorities of highest reputation, and the correctness of which +is undoubtedly proved by recorded facts. + +So deeply penetrated was Madame Goldschmidt with love for her Art, and +faith in its ennobling influence, that, to the end of her life, she took +the keenest interest in promoting its instruction, upon the true and +well-tried principles of the pure Italian School. + +The following letter to the late Mr. H. C. Deacon, in whose method of +instruction she felt great confidence, is one of the last she wrote upon +the subject:— + + “Wynd’s Point, Colwall, Malvern, July 31st, 1885. + + “DEAR MR. DEACON, + + “It was very kind of you to let me know about the Examinations.[132] I + am glad to hear that my _sheep_ did not badly. If —— would put her + mind into her work she might become a singer. + + “I can but do my best; and, with my enormous experience, and a life’s + study, I ought to be able to bring out singers. + + “Singing is as much moral and mental as it is mechanical. It is the + combination of those qualities which alone can form the master and + pupil. + + “I hope you and Mrs. Deacon are better, and that you will now have + some rest. + + “Yours sincerely, + “J. L. GOLDSCHMIDT.” + +We can scarcely close our present chapter more profitably than by +presenting our readers with a summary of the work performed by Mdlle. +Lind, in connection with the Operatic Stage, between her first +appearance in _Der Freischütz_, on the 7th of March, 1838, and her last, +in _Roberto il Diavolo_, on the 10th of May, 1849—a period of little +more than eleven years, during which she appeared in 30 Operas, 677 +times. + + ───────────────┬──────────┬───────┬───────┬───────┬────────┬────────── + │ │ │ │ │ │ + OPERAS. │STOCKHOLM.│BERLIN.│VIENNA.│Munich.│Hanover.│Darmstadt. + │ │ │ │ │ │ + ───────────────┼──────────┼───────┼───────┼───────┼────────┼────────── + _La Sonnambula_│ 28│ 11│ 7│ 2│ │ 1 + (Bellini) │ │ │ │ │ │ + _Lucia di │ │ │ │ │ │ + Lammermoor_ │ 56│ │ │ │ │ + (Donizetti) │ │ │ │ │ │ + _Norma_ │ 34│ 14│ 3│ 1│ 2│ 1 + (Bellini) │ │ │ │ │ │ + _Roberto il │ │ │ │ │ │ + Diavolo_ │ 60│ │ │ │ │ + (Meyerbeer) │ │ │ │ │ │ + _La Figlia del │ │ │ │ │ │ + Reggimento_ │ 18│ 2│ 6│ 3│ │ + (Donizetti) │ │ │ │ │ │ + _Der │ │ │ │ │ │ + Freischütz_ │ 42│ 5│ 1│ 1│ │ + (Weber) │ │ │ │ │ │ + _Divertissement│ │ │ │ │ │ + National_ │ 27│ │ │ │ │ + (Berwald) │ │ │ │ │ │ + _Das Feldlager │ │ │ │ │ │ + in Schlesien_│ │ 10│ 13│ │ │ + (Meyerbeer) │ │ │ │ │ │ + _A May Day in │ │ │ │ │ │ + Wärend_ │ 21│ │ │ │ │ + (Berwald) │ │ │ │ │ │ + _Die │ │ │ │ │ │ + Zauberflöte_ │ 18│ │ │ │ │ + (Mozart) │ │ │ │ │ │ + _Il Don │ │ │ │ │ │ + Giovanni_ │ 5│ 5│ │ 1│ │ + (Mozart) │ │ │ │ │ │ + _Le Nozze di │ │ │ │ │ │ + Figaro_ │ 8│ │ │ 1│ │ + (Mozart) │ │ │ │ │ │ + _Marie_ │ 11│ │ │ │ │ + (Hérold) │ │ │ │ │ │ + _La Vestale_ │ 6│ 3│ │ │ │ + (Spontini) │ │ │ │ │ │ + _Les Huguenots_│ 7│ 2│ 1│ │ │ + (Meyerbeer) │ │ │ │ │ │ + _Die Schweizer │ │ │ │ │ │ + Familie_ │ 10│ │ │ │ │ + (Weigl) │ │ │ │ │ │ + _Euryanthe_ │ 5│ 4│ │ │ │ + (Weber) │ │ │ │ │ │ + _La Straniera_ │ 9│ │ │ │ │ + (Bellini) │ │ │ │ │ │ + _Il Turco in │ │ │ │ │ │ + Italia_ │ 9│ │ │ │ │ + (Rossini) │ │ │ │ │ │ + _L’Elisir │ │ │ │ │ │ + d’Amore_ │ 5│ │ │ │ │ + (Donizetti) │ │ │ │ │ │ + _I Puritani_ │ │ │ │ │ │ + (Bellini) │ │ │ │ │ │ + _Ferdinand │ │ │ │ │ │ + Cortez_ │ 6│ │ │ │ │ + (Spontini) │ │ │ │ │ │ + _Jag går i │ │ │ │ │ │ + Kloster_ │ 6│ │ │ │ │ + (Berwald) │ │ │ │ │ │ + _Le Château de │ │ │ │ │ │ + Montenero_ │ 6│ │ │ │ │ + (Dalayrac) │ │ │ │ │ │ + _Armida_ │ 5│ │ │ │ │ + (Gluck) │ │ │ │ │ │ + _Anna Bolena_ │ 5│ │ │ │ │ + (Donizetti) │ │ │ │ │ │ + _La Gazza │ │ │ │ │ │ + Ladra_ │ 4│ │ │ │ │ + (Rossini) │ │ │ │ │ │ + _I Masnadieri_ │ │ │ │ │ │ + (Verdi) │ │ │ │ │ │ + _The Elves_ │ 4│ │ │ │ │ + (Van Boom) │ │ │ │ │ │ + _Semiramide_ │ 3│ │ │ │ │ + (Rossini) │ │ │ │ │ │ + ───────────────┼──────────┼───────┼───────┼───────┼────────┼────────── + Number of │ │ │ │ │ │ + performances │ 418│ 56│ 31│ 9│ 2│ 2 + in each city │ │ │ │ │ │ + │ ———│ + Total number of│ 30│ + Operas │ │ + ───────────────┴──────────┴─────────────────────────────────────────── + + ───────────────┬────────┬───────────┬──────────┬──────────┬────────── + │ │ │ │ │ + OPERAS. │Hamburg.│Copenhagen.│Frankfort.│Stuttgard.│Carlsruhe. + │ │ │ │ │ + ───────────────┼────────┼───────────┼──────────┼──────────┼────────── + _La Sonnambula_│ 9│ │ 4│ 1│ 1 + (Bellini) │ │ │ │ │ + _Lucia di │ │ │ │ │ + Lammermoor_ │ 4│ │ 1│ 1│ 1 + (Donizetti) │ │ │ │ │ + _Norma_ │ 8│ 3│ 3│ 2│ + (Bellini) │ │ │ │ │ + _Roberto il │ │ │ │ │ + Diavolo_ │ │ 2│ │ │ + (Meyerbeer) │ │ │ │ │ + _La Figlia del │ │ │ │ │ + Reggimento_ │ 4│ 2│ │ 1│ + (Donizetti) │ │ │ │ │ + _Der │ │ │ │ │ + Freischütz_ │ 1│ │ 1│ │ + (Weber) │ │ │ │ │ + _Divertissement│ │ │ │ │ + National_ │ │ │ │ │ + (Berwald) │ │ │ │ │ + _Das Feldlager │ │ │ │ │ + in Schlesien_│ │ │ │ │ + (Meyerbeer) │ │ │ │ │ + _A May Day in │ │ │ │ │ + Wärend_ │ │ │ │ │ + (Berwald) │ │ │ │ │ + _Die │ │ │ │ │ + Zauberflöte_ │ │ │ │ │ + (Mozart) │ │ │ │ │ + _Il Don │ │ │ │ │ + Giovanni_ │ 2│ │ │ │ + (Mozart) │ │ │ │ │ + _Le Nozze di │ │ │ │ │ + Figaro_ │ │ │ │ │ + (Mozart) │ │ │ │ │ + _Marie_ │ │ │ │ │ + (Hérold) │ │ │ │ │ + _La Vestale_ │ │ │ │ │ 1 + (Spontini) │ │ │ │ │ + _Les Huguenots_│ │ │ │ │ + (Meyerbeer) │ │ │ │ │ + _Die Schweizer │ │ │ │ │ + Familie_ │ │ │ │ │ + (Weigl) │ │ │ │ │ + _Euryanthe_ │ │ │ │ │ + (Weber) │ │ │ │ │ + _La Straniera_ │ │ │ │ │ + (Bellini) │ │ │ │ │ + _Il Turco in │ │ │ │ │ + Italia_ │ │ │ │ │ + (Rossini) │ │ │ │ │ + _L’Elisir │ │ │ │ │ + d’Amore_ │ │ │ │ │ + (Donizetti) │ │ │ │ │ + _I Puritani_ │ │ │ │ │ + (Bellini) │ │ │ │ │ + _Ferdinand │ │ │ │ │ + Cortez_ │ │ │ │ │ + (Spontini) │ │ │ │ │ + _Jag går i │ │ │ │ │ + Kloster_ │ │ │ │ │ + (Berwald) │ │ │ │ │ + _Le Château de │ │ │ │ │ + Montenero_ │ │ │ │ │ + (Dalayrac) │ │ │ │ │ + _Armida_ │ │ │ │ │ + (Gluck) │ │ │ │ │ + _Anna Bolena_ │ │ │ │ │ + (Donizetti) │ │ │ │ │ + _La Gazza │ │ │ │ │ + Ladra_ │ │ │ │ │ + (Rossini) │ │ │ │ │ + _I Masnadieri_ │ │ │ │ │ + (Verdi) │ │ │ │ │ + _The Elves_ │ │ │ │ │ + (Van Boom) │ │ │ │ │ + _Semiramide_ │ │ │ │ │ + (Rossini) │ │ │ │ │ + ───────────────┼────────┼───────────┼──────────┼──────────┼────────── + Number of │ │ │ │ │ + performances │ 28│ 7│ 9│ 5│ 3 + in each city │ │ │ │ │ + │ + Total number of│ + │ + ───────────────┴───────────────────────────────────────────────────── + + ───────────────┬───────┬──────────┬─────────┬─────── + │ │ │ │ + OPERAS. │Weimar.│Nuremberg.│Mannheim.│LONDON. + │ │ │ │ + ───────────────┼───────┼──────────┼─────────┼─────── + _La Sonnambula_│ 1│ 1│ │ 22 + (Bellini) │ │ │ │ + _Lucia di │ │ │ │ + Lammermoor_ │ │ │ │ 12 + (Donizetti) │ │ │ │ + _Norma_ │ 1│ │ │ 3 + (Bellini) │ │ │ │ + _Roberto il │ │ │ │ + Diavolo_ │ │ │ │ 11 + (Meyerbeer) │ │ │ │ + _La Figlia del │ │ │ │ + Reggimento_ │ │ 1│ 1│ 17 + (Donizetti) │ │ │ │ + _Der │ │ │ │ + Freischütz_ │ │ │ │ + (Weber) │ │ │ │ + _Divertissement│ │ │ │ + National_ │ │ │ │ + (Berwald) │ │ │ │ + _Das Feldlager │ │ │ │ + in Schlesien_│ │ │ │ + (Meyerbeer) │ │ │ │ + _A May Day in │ │ │ │ + Wärend_ │ │ │ │ + (Berwald) │ │ │ │ + _Die │ │ │ │ + Zauberflöte_ │ │ │ │ + (Mozart) │ │ │ │ + _Il Don │ │ │ │ + Giovanni_ │ │ │ │ + (Mozart) │ │ │ │ + _Le Nozze di │ │ │ │ + Figaro_ │ │ │ │ 4 + (Mozart) │ │ │ │ + _Marie_ │ │ │ │ + (Hérold) │ │ │ │ + _La Vestale_ │ │ │ │ + (Spontini) │ │ │ │ + _Les Huguenots_│ │ │ │ + (Meyerbeer) │ │ │ │ + _Die Schweizer │ │ │ │ + Familie_ │ │ │ │ + (Weigl) │ │ │ │ + _Euryanthe_ │ │ │ │ + (Weber) │ │ │ │ + _La Straniera_ │ │ │ │ + (Bellini) │ │ │ │ + _Il Turco in │ │ │ │ + Italia_ │ │ │ │ + (Rossini) │ │ │ │ + _L’Elisir │ │ │ │ + d’Amore_ │ │ │ │ 3 + (Donizetti) │ │ │ │ + _I Puritani_ │ │ │ │ 5 + (Bellini) │ │ │ │ + _Ferdinand │ │ │ │ + Cortez_ │ │ │ │ + (Spontini) │ │ │ │ + _Jag går i │ │ │ │ + Kloster_ │ │ │ │ + (Berwald) │ │ │ │ + _Le Château de │ │ │ │ + Montenero_ │ │ │ │ + (Dalayrac) │ │ │ │ + _Armida_ │ │ │ │ + (Gluck) │ │ │ │ + _Anna Bolena_ │ │ │ │ + (Donizetti) │ │ │ │ + _La Gazza │ │ │ │ + Ladra_ │ │ │ │ + (Rossini) │ │ │ │ + _I Masnadieri_ │ │ │ │ 4 + (Verdi) │ │ │ │ + _The Elves_ │ │ │ │ + (Van Boom) │ │ │ │ + _Semiramide_ │ │ │ │ + (Rossini) │ │ │ │ + ───────────────┼───────┼──────────┼─────────┼─────── + Number of │ │ │ │ + performances │ 2│ 2│ 1│ 81 + in each city │ │ │ │ + │ + Total number of│ + Operas │ + ───────────────┴──────────────────────────────────── + + ───────────────┬──────────┬──────────┬────────┬───────┬────── + │ The │ │ │ │ + OPERAS. │ English │Edinburgh.│Glasgow.│Dublin.│Total. + │Provinces.│ │ │ │ + ───────────────┼──────────┼──────────┼────────┼───────┼────── + _La Sonnambula_│ 6│ 1│ 1│ 2│ 98 + (Bellini) │ │ │ │ │ + _Lucia di │ │ │ │ │ + Lammermoor_ │ 1│ 1│ │ 1│ 78 + (Donizetti) │ │ │ │ │ + _Norma_ │ │ │ │ │ 75 + (Bellini) │ │ │ │ │ + _Roberto il │ │ │ │ │ + Diavolo_ │ │ │ │ │ 73 + (Meyerbeer) │ │ │ │ │ + _La Figlia del │ │ │ │ │ + Reggimento_ │ 4│ │ 1│ 2│ 62 + (Donizetti) │ │ │ │ │ + _Der │ │ │ │ │ + Freischütz_ │ │ │ │ │ 51 + (Weber) │ │ │ │ │ + _Divertissement│ │ │ │ │ + National_ │ │ │ │ │ 27 + (Berwald) │ │ │ │ │ + _Das Feldlager │ │ │ │ │ + in Schlesien_│ │ │ │ │ 23 + (Meyerbeer) │ │ │ │ │ + _A May Day in │ │ │ │ │ + Wärend_ │ │ │ │ │ 21 + (Berwald) │ │ │ │ │ + _Die │ │ │ │ │ + Zauberflöte_ │ │ │ │ │ 18 + (Mozart) │ │ │ │ │ + _Il Don │ │ │ │ │ + Giovanni_ │ │ │ │ │ 13 + (Mozart) │ │ │ │ │ + _Le Nozze di │ │ │ │ │ + Figaro_ │ │ │ │ │ 13 + (Mozart) │ │ │ │ │ + _Marie_ │ │ │ │ │ 11 + (Hérold) │ │ │ │ │ + _La Vestale_ │ │ │ │ │ 10 + (Spontini) │ │ │ │ │ + _Les Huguenots_│ │ │ │ │ 10 + (Meyerbeer) │ │ │ │ │ + _Die Schweizer │ │ │ │ │ + Familie_ │ │ │ │ │ 10 + (Weigl) │ │ │ │ │ + _Euryanthe_ │ │ │ │ │ 9 + (Weber) │ │ │ │ │ + _La Straniera_ │ │ │ │ │ 9 + (Bellini) │ │ │ │ │ + _Il Turco in │ │ │ │ │ + Italia_ │ │ │ │ │ 9 + (Rossini) │ │ │ │ │ + _L’Elisir │ │ │ │ │ + d’Amore_ │ │ │ │ │ 8 + (Donizetti) │ │ │ │ │ + _I Puritani_ │ │ │ │ 1│ 6 + (Bellini) │ │ │ │ │ + _Ferdinand │ │ │ │ │ + Cortez_ │ │ │ │ │ 6 + (Spontini) │ │ │ │ │ + _Jag går i │ │ │ │ │ + Kloster_ │ │ │ │ │ 6 + (Berwald) │ │ │ │ │ + _Le Château de │ │ │ │ │ + Montenero_ │ │ │ │ │ 6 + (Dalayrac) │ │ │ │ │ + _Armida_ │ │ │ │ │ 5 + (Gluck) │ │ │ │ │ + _Anna Bolena_ │ │ │ │ │ 5 + (Donizetti) │ │ │ │ │ + _La Gazza │ │ │ │ │ + Ladra_ │ │ │ │ │ 4 + (Rossini) │ │ │ │ │ + _I Masnadieri_ │ │ │ │ │ 4 + (Verdi) │ │ │ │ │ + _The Elves_ │ │ │ │ │ 4 + (Van Boom) │ │ │ │ │ + _Semiramide_ │ │ │ │ │ 3 + (Rossini) │ │ │ │ │ + ───────────────┼──────────┼──────────┼────────┼───────┼────── + Number of │ │ │ │ │ + performances │ 11│ 2│ 2│ 6│ 677 + in each city │ │ │ │ │ + │ │ + Total number of│ Total number of performances 677│ + Operas │ │ + ───────────────┴──────────────────────────────────────┴────── + + + + + CHAPTER IX. + FRIENDS IN ENGLAND. + + +Sweden remained ever the veritable home to which Jenny Lind’s heart +turned with the affection which is given to no other land but that in +which one first draws living breath. “One’s heart is in one’s own +country,” she once wrote to an old friend, in her later years, at the +time of a visit of the Crown Prince of Sweden to London, “and mine, +certainly, is Swedish to the very backbone of my body and soul.” + +It was, again, in Germany that she found the home of her artistic +spirit. There the music in her kindled into its fullest life. There she +breathed the air in which her art knew itself to be in its native +dwelling-place. + +But England was to become the home of her adoption, in whose soil she +was to take root. There she was to build herself a home; to see her +children and her grandchildren grow up about her; and there she was, at +last, to find her grave. + +And we may well stop, therefore, at the close of our account of her +appearances in England, to take note of that which drew her to view this +country with special favour and affection; and to cast a glance, both +backward and forward, over those social and domestic ties which now +already began to knit her fast to those friends among whom, in after +days, she found such intimate companionship. + +In doing this, we are still loyal to our purpose of recording the +Artist-life of Jenny Lind; for we have already, at the outset of her +career in Stockholm, shown how closely and peculiarly her personal +character entered into her artistic effect; how impossible it was to +dissociate the one from the other. The genius which showed itself in her +song, was identically the same which discovered itself in her private +intercourse. Whether off the stage or on it, it was the same +characteristic personality, which spoke in every detail of her natural +life, and was felt alive behind or within every note of her voice. It is +essential, therefore, to her portraiture as an artist that she should be +known as a woman. + +And it is, perhaps, just here that we find something of the secret of +that attachment which drew her towards the English and the English +towards her. For, as a people, we find it difficult to appreciate Art in +the abstract. We want it clothed in flesh and blood; concrete, personal. +We are in haste to relate it to moral and religious considerations, +apart from which it is apt to appear to us as a mere pastime. Art that +speaks solely in Art’s own name always bewilders us. But when it comes +to us in the form of one who, like Jenny Lind, illuminates the +seriousness of the artist with the inspiration of a pure and noble +womanhood, and with the spiritual fervour of one who holds her gifts as +a mission from God, then the English people can see and understand what +is going forward. + +Therefore it was that the effect told straight home on the English +public, and they surrendered themselves to her magic with an intensity +which belongs to a strong and reserved people who find it difficult to +yield, but, when they yield, yield altogether. Mendelssohn was a good +prophet when he assured her that she would find in England a welcome of +quite peculiar warmth—a welcome that would recognise the special tone of +her character. And, in return, she responded to this welcome with +enthusiasm. In spite of the ugly incident which beclouded her early +appearances, and which revealed to her the coarse grain of a manager +like Mr. Bunn, and the passionate malice that agitated much of the +operatic world in London, she became exceedingly happy here. “I am +charmed, quite beyond words, with England,” she wrote from Clairville, +in July, 1847, to her dear friend Madame Wichmann. She made friends +quickly; and she loved the friends she made. And it is of these that we +would now speak. For it is in them that we shall see how it was that, in +spite of much that she herself had to complain of in us,—in spite of our +stupid practicality, our insensibility to artistic ideals, our coldness +of manner, our sunless skies,—she yet found here in England a temper +that responded to her aspirations, and gave full and encouraging scope +to her endowments. + +Let us take a look at one or two circles which will specially illustrate +the attachments which she formed at this time. + +We have already heard much of her alliance with Mrs. Grote, whose +friendship for her played a large part in her earliest days among us. +The Grotes were fascinated by her; and they devoted themselves to +chaperoning her through that brilliant London Society into which she had +been plunged. Mrs. Grote was in the very heart of the literary and +musical world. At her house might be found Mendelssohn, Chopin, +Thalberg, Lablache. Her husband, the historian of Greece, was in +intimate contact with the chief writers and thinkers of the day—with +John Stuart Mill, Cornewall Lewis, Milman, Sydney Smith. All that was +moving would be heard of, and touched, in the circle into which Mrs. +Grote introduced her new friend; and she was only too eager to take her +everywhere and show her everybody. + +But that new friend was singularly unlike her busy chaperone. She +loathed the bustle and glitter of the big world. She shrank from the +public gaze; she could not endure to be made an object of curiosity. +Nor, indeed, could the tempers and minds of the two women have ever +fallen closely together. Nothing could be more remote from Jenny Lind’s +estimates of life than the ideas and principles which reigned in that +house. George Grote was the intellectual pupil of James Mill; he was the +depository of the traditions of Benthamism. He was a stiff political +economist of the abstract school; an ardent republican, a hater of +churches and creeds. He professed that dry and tough Utilitarianism, +which holds Idealists cheap. His wife was a woman of keen and strong +intellectual character, delighting in the stir of men and things; a +forcible figure in the thick of the thronging world of cultivated +society. + +With such intense difference of atmosphere, it is greatly to the credit +of Mrs. Grote’s kindness, that she succeeded in making Jenny Lind so +pleased with her intimacy. She evidently threw herself in, heart and +soul, with her young friend’s fortunes; she put her house at her +disposal; she advised and directed her; she gave up her time to her; she +listened to her confidences; she introduced her to her many +acquaintances; she took her on rides and picnics to Wimbledon, and gave +her the free run of the Burnham Cottage, where she could wander freely +in the woods, and freshen her voice. She accompanied her on provincial +tours, and encompassed her about, in the midst of that hurrying and +exciting turmoil, with pleasant companionship. To one, like Jenny Lind, +who was besieged by fears, and suspicions, and dismays, and needed +always to feel the succour of friendly advice close at hand, it was +everything to have such a constant and kindly refuge to turn to, as Mrs. +Grote’s house. And that house held in it, also, the presence of one, +whose faithful loyalty to her service was invaluable. Edward Lewin, Mrs. +Grote’s brother, was one of the best and truest friends she ever +possessed. He was already well known to her through his sister, Madame +Koch, at Stockholm. It was at his house there, that she had appeared in +the Tableaux Vivants, as St. Cecilia. It was he who went to Vienna, to +persuade her to venture on the English journey; and now that she was +come, he patiently attended to her interests; he looked after her +affairs; he did everything for her that a wise and good man could, in +the way of kind-hearted direction, and supervision; and always with a +reserved and unobtrusive devotion, that was as delicate as it was true. +He must have done more than any one to smooth her path, and to save her +from trouble and blunder, during those two years in England; and his +friendship remained a constant source of comfort and strength to her. + +Such was the circle into which she came at the start. But she was very +soon to find her way into another home of a very different type, where +she passed under influences which affected her whole life and character. +She was engaged to sing at Norwich in the September of 1847; and in the +preceding July she got the letter of invitation, which has already been +given,[133] from the Bishop of Norwich, in which he expresses his desire +“to make acquaintance with one whose high character and principles were +on a par with her superior talents.” In those days, such an invitation +to one who was engaged at the Opera, was remarkable enough. English +society, and especially English religious society, was strangely and +stupidly conventional. The Bishop’s act was a striking evidence of the +unique position which Jenny Lind had already, from the very beginning, +assumed. And it proved to be much more than this. It was an introduction +into a household, where she found that affectionate and intimate +environment which was so dear to her. Bishop Stanley brought to her the +watchful care of a father; Mrs. Stanley gave to her a motherly devotion, +to which she could entrust her tenderest confidences. And, then, there +was Mary Stanley, the daughter, her close friend for years, full of +character and interest; and there was Arthur Penrhyn Stanley, the son, +whose enthusiasm for her was the spring of an enduring intimacy, which +lasted until his death, in the Deanery at Westminster, in 1881. + +We have read already the letter in which Arthur Stanley describes, with +delicious freshness, her first arrival, in September, 1847.[134] In that +letter, everything has been said that could make vivid the personal +impression she produced. We will notice, here, but one little matter in +it; and that is, the startling comparison of her smile to that of Dr. +Pusey. The comparison would, no doubt, have surprised no one more than +herself. But even those who only knew the face of the great Oxford +Doctor in extreme old age, would understand at once the allusion, as +they recall the sudden lift of those grey eyebrows, and the beaming +kindliness of the fatherly outlook from under them, that lit up the +whole countenance as with an illumination. + +Here, then, in this household, she kindled an interest, and established +an intimacy, which had lasting effects upon her future. On the 28th of +September, the Bishop wrote a farewell letter to Jenny Lind, which marks +the depth and reality of the friendship which these few days had been +enough to seal. It will reveal how profoundly the influences, then set +moving, entered into the secret places of her life. The letter +accompanied portraits of himself and his wife. + + “MY DEAR MISS LIND,— + + “I am well aware that it is with you a general rule not to accept + presents; but I persuade myself that the enclosed two portraits will + be received as an exception, and that when restored to your relatives + and friends in your native land, you will, in looking upon them, + recall to mind one whose interest in your welfare has been increased + tenfold during the few short days you were his guest. + + “Believe me, it will be my earnest prayer, that, in the high and + perilous position in which you are placed, the God whom you so + devotedly serve with such humility and simplicity, may ever bless and + protect you, and enable you to carry out more and more the objects you + have at heart. Under His guidance, go on and prosper. You have left + us; but we shall never forget you, and I look forward with deep + interest to the time when I again may meet you, as one who has gained + the affections of every member of my family: and when I may have + further conversation with you on the many subjects of vital importance + on which I would willingly have spoken more at large when you were + with us. Believe me, + + “Yours, very sincerely, + “E. NORWICH.” + +There was another Bishop, a guest in the Palace at the time, who both +received, and gave, a vital impression. A year and a half later when she +returned to Norwich she spoke of the many things said to her by the +Bishop of Tasmania, which she had not understood at the time, but had +seen the truth of since. His words had clung about her: and they had +evidently been on the deep matters of life. And if he had impressed her, +she, certainly, in those brief four days, had profoundly stirred him. A +letter written to her by him in July, 1849, from Hobart Town, Tasmania, +is a touching revelation of the way in which her memory lived with him, +amid interests so remote, and so alien. He begins by telling her of his +difficulty in addressing her; for he can no more call her “_Miss_ Lind” +than he would speak of “_Mr._ Shakespeare,” or “_Mr._ Milton.” + + “They are names endeared to English people. And so with you. We know + you, esteem you, admire you, and talk of you, as ‘Jenny Lind.’ By that + name the poor bless you; and the rich regard you as one who has by her + noble example, exalted at once her profession and herself. By that + name you are known even in this distant part of the world, 16,000 + miles away from your own home.... You have had a rare, a most rare + gift from God. And He has given you the grace to use it, not merely + for your own profit, or the delight of others, but for the suffering + children—even as He would have you use it.... We may never meet again; + but believe me, dear friend (if I may call you so), I shall never + forget you though half the world lies between us, and though it is + scarcely possible that I may be permitted to see your face again on + earth. + + “Believe me, “Most sincerely your friend, “F. R. TASMANIA.” + +In January, 1849, she was once again at the Palace at Norwich. Mrs. +Stanley in a letter to her sister tells how she received a surprise +prepared for her by the Bishop. + + “She did look so delighted to be here, and when somebody hoped that + she would not forget the step up into the library, said, ‘Oh, I have + forgotten nothing!’ I took her to her room where the Swedish Bible was + open on her dressing-table with the texts inscribed in the Bishop’s + best hand. She bent down to read them earnestly; and then opened the + book at various places; and then, she returned to the texts, and went + slowly over them, drawing her finger emphatically under the words ‘The + Lord preserve thy going out and thy coming in, etc.,’ then she broke + out into something like Arthur at the Pyrenees, ‘What shall I do? What + shall I do?’” + +Below the Bishop’s signature in the Bible, he had written out the +selected verses, Psa. cxxi. 7, 8, and Phil. i. 9, 10.[135] + +It is worth while to give all this in detail, in order that we may +understand at what level her friendship with the family was pitched. The +Bible, with its texts, and its graceful letter, is an index of the depth +and the force of the influences which drew her to the Stanleys, and they +to her. As we hear of these little tendernesses, as we read the strong +words of commendation, as we follow Mrs. Stanley’s affectionate +transmission of it all to her listening sister, we can measure what it +meant to Jenny Lind to be encompassed with all the home intimacies which +she held so dear, and, above all, to find that those intimacies of the +heart were so closely concerned with the spiritual fortunes of the soul. +She thoroughly sympathised with this high language, which held the +religious interests of life so near to the surface, and inwove them into +the common texture of daily intercourse. It was a house entirely to her +mind, with its warm sympathies, and its simple, earnest pieties. Here is +Mrs. Stanley’s report to her sister at the end of this visit: + + “Her future will be most interesting to watch. There is such a depth + of veneration in her, such a reverence for all that is holy, such + capabilities of love and devotion. She said she had no wish to make + more friends, she had enough; and her manner is that of preventing any + intimacy. One very remarkable thing, which did not strike me till + afterwards, is that she treats her superiors as we do royalty—never + originates anything, never speaks first, never comes to sit down by + you. To her equals and inferiors nothing could be more courteous or + frank. She never speaks of herself, never appears to think of herself; + she has just that self-forgetting earnestness about everything, which + is _the_ desideratum in ——. I was glad, however, to hear her say that + though she never kept a journal, her memory was strong, and that there + was nothing that had ever happened to her of which she had not a most + distinct recollection. To some one who was speaking of the world she + said, ‘The world is one great lie.’ Yesterday, Mr. Richmond, the + artist, dined here; and it was beautiful to hear him speak of her; it + was just with that same appreciation of the peculiar charm of her + character and countenance that Mr. Lawrence had; but he said that he + would himself shrink from the attempt to paint her.... + + “All our previous impressions of her have been confirmed, and all + change in her is for the better.” + +Madame Salis-Schwabe was another friend in whose house she was made at +home, and with whom grew up, during these same years, a lasting and +confidential intimacy. Her husband, a rich manufacturer at Manchester, +was a man of culture, a refined, and cultivated musician, full of both +religious and philanthropic interest. They received Jenny Lind at the +time of her visit to Manchester; they invited her to their beautiful +place on the Menai Straits. To Madame Schwabe she spoke and wrote freely +of things that were on her mind. Already, in 1848, they were on most +affectionate terms; and, evidently, from the fun that came bubbling out +in the letters, Jenny Lind felt herself to be thoroughly understood, so +that she could write with unhindered freedom. Madame Schwabe, too, was a +relative of a young pianist of Hamburg, in whose fortunes Jenny Lind had +already taken a warm interest, “a very amiable young man, who, +certainly, has much talent and much feeling,” as she writes in August, +1848, to her friend. His name was Otto Goldschmidt. + +Two other friends there were, who, in 1849, called out her special +affection—Baroness French, and her daughter Georgina. Her letters to +them brim over with touching fondness; and it is delightful to see in +them her strong feelings struggling through the English language, which +she is determined to use, however uncertain her control over it. + + “I don’t know if you can understand my miserable English,” she writes + to Miss French, “but I prefer to write ever so bad English than the + very best French!”... “I feel a great deal for you, my dear Miss + French. And as I can never change when I once love a person, you may + be assured that I shall always and for ever be yours truly + affectionate, + + _“JENNY LIND.”_ + +In these letters comes out that anxious clinging to the love of those of +whom she was fond, which was noticeable in her. She is in suspicion lest +it should be withdrawn from her; she needs reassurance of its survival. +Was it her harsh experiences in childhood which had left in her this +note of fear, lest she should find herself forgotten? + + “Take not away, I entreat you, your kindness and friendship towards + me, dear lady,” she writes to the Baroness, “and be assured that I + think of you, and remember you with true and sincere affection! My + sister-love and sister-blessing to Miss Georgina. Send me sometimes a + few words which tell me about your health and happiness. For such + kindness my heart will always feel thankful!” + +There are many passages, in these letters, full of the same tender +longings. We have touched on them just to illustrate both the intensity +of her personal affection, which flowed out with the enthusiasm of a +child towards those whom she felt congenial; and also the pathetic +anxiety which seemed to plead against the dreaded relapse into the +loneliness of her wandering dramatic career. As she wrote from Paris, +“she needed much love.” Yet she found it hard to wholly shake off a +haunting distrust of the love given her, as if it was too good and +precious a boon to endure. + +These letters reveal, also, how intimate, and how loving were the ties +that now knit her to the English. Not only had the public welcome been +all that Mendelssohn had foretold, but behind that, she had found an +entry into hearts which responded eagerly to her own. She felt herself +cherished and nourished; the fountains of affection were freely opened, +and she drank at them with thankful delight. True, there was no home +that could surpass, in dearness, and in comfort to her soul, that house +of the Wichmanns in Berlin, whither her deepest confidence still turned +to rest. But yet we can see that there was much in England to explain +the burst of enthusiasm with which she closes a letter, written in 1850, +from Lübeck to Madame Salis-Schwabe, after a delightful wandering in +Central Europe. + + “Ah! Meran! how splendid, how divine it is there! And Switzerland too! + how lovely and magnificent! But nowhere can I find England again! I + love England with all my soul, and I long to be there again!” + + + + + BOOK IX. + FRUITION. + + + + + CHAPTER I. + WHY DID JENNY LIND LEAVE THE STAGE? + + +How many times has that question been asked! Who that has ever heard of +her, has failed, at some moment or other of his interest in her story, +to ask it? + +And, indeed, it is no light question to ask; to answer it, one must go +down to the very roots of her mental life. For it was, in her case, not +merely the withdrawal of a great singer from the special field in which +she had won her triumphs. Such an one might still have full opportunity +of exercising her gift. Jenny Lind herself was to find a noble sphere in +the concert-room, in the Oratorio; she never reaped a more amazing +success, nor kindled a more rapturous emotion, than in that historic +American tour which followed her withdrawal from the stage. + +But she was not only a singer. She was a Dramatic genius of the first +rank. It was the combination of this dramatic force with her wonderful +song which constituted her unique preeminence. This was her natural +vocation; it had been her familiar arena from early childhood. She had +been bred up in it; she knew its innermost secrets. She possessed the +genuine power of transposing her whole personality into a character. She +had the magnetic influence which penetrated her audience through and +through with her interpretation of the part which she was playing. And +all this she sacrificed—sacrificed utterly and for ever, by her own act, +her own solitary will, while yet a girl, at the supreme moment of her +fame, in the teeth of plea and protest from a desperate public and +imploring managers. + +Why, then, was it? What were her motives? + +At least, it is clear that it was due to no impatient impulse or wilful +mood. It was the issue of a deliberate intention, slowly and steadily +built up out of her experience, grounded upon her deepest personal +conviction. It is this that we must first recognise; and to do so we +must go back behind the actual date at which her story now stands, and +dig out the earlier years of this her resolution. It will then be seen +that the resolution grew parallel with the growth of her European fame. +There appear to be no traces of it left in her written records, so long +as she was winning her triumphs at home, in Stockholm, or in the +neighbouring Copenhagen. In Paris, under Garcia, she was taking close +and eager interest in her dramatic profession, watching the Parisian +stage for hints and suggestions, noting and contrasting the acting +capacities of Rachel and herself.[136] She spoke then of a strong desire +to feel the boards again under her feet. Everything indicates that she +was then looking forward to an Operatic career as her natural +profession, and was spending pains upon her histrionic as well as upon +her musical education. On her return, she threw herself into her parts +with unhindered freedom; there is no hint of a recoil. + +When, then, can this recoil from the stage be first detected? At a most +remarkable moment. It is in the full swing of her first Continental +successes: it is in the very heart of her intense enjoyment of the +superb opportunities that were suddenly opening out before her. It is on +the Rhine, in the September of that great year of her Berlin triumphs, +1845, that we, for the first time, encounter the motive to leave the +stage in a positive shape; and, what is most noticeable, is that +already, at this earliest manifestation of it, it has taken the form of +a fixed and definite determination. + +We hear of it from Mrs. Grote’s MS. _Memoir_, whom, it will be +remembered, she met at Frankfort for the first time during that +September. To her, she quietly confided her intention. She spoke of her +intense dislike to the _entourage_ which a theatre necessitated; of the +exhausting fatigue involved in dramatic singing; of the physical risks; +and over against all this distracting environment, she set her own +simple tastes and humble needs. + +Mrs. Grote, as she listened to the tale of trouble, evidently felt that +this intense distaste for the character of the life came from no +superficial worry, but belonged both to the physical and spiritual +realities of her nature. She sums up her conclusions in her private +Note-book:— + + “Owing to a highly excitable nervous temperament,” she writes, “she + appears to be ill-suited to the conflicts which attend a triumphant + career, and will, I fear, cut short her scenic life and retire to + Sweden to lead a quiet and tranquil existence as soon as she has the + means of doing so.”[137] + +Evidently, the writer of these words was sure that this intention sprang +out of no transitory mood of Jenny Lind. All its outlines are steadily +fixed; and Mrs. Grote as she listens, sees reason to fear that it will +most certainly be carried out. + +And, moreover, Mrs. Grote recognises the reality of the reasons given. +She evidently agrees that this nervous structure _is_ too excitable to +bear the strain of a triumphant career. She fears for the loss to the +stage of gifts so delicious; but she cannot deny or refute the cogency +of the justification. + +And, then, the reasons! They are suggested, here, in their most natural +and most frequent form; and they well bear special notice, for they mean +much. It is not the drama as such, which is condemned. She sees nothing +wrong or disreputable in it. It is only the conditions which belong to a +triumphant dramatic career which seem to her so intolerable, as she +looks from out of the midst of the turmoil of a Continental tour back to +quiet memories of her Swedish home. We can imagine what it would mean to +her—this incessant irritation of the _entourage_, acting upon nerves +that were already lacerated by exhaustion. + +And then, is not the phrase in which Mrs. Grote sums up the significance +of what she heard, full of obvious force? The European triumph had +thrust her out into the public arena. She would now have to push her way +forward in the very thick of that rough battle which the fierce +competition of the theatrical world made inevitable. No wonder, that a +profound recoil should have, now, taken place, as the full pressure of a +Continental career broke out upon her! Who can fail to give intelligible +meaning to the “conflicts that attend” on such a career? Who can doubt +the strain that it would throw on her “nervous structure”? We have seen +her temperament, we know its ideal cast, its lofty tone, its sacrificial +flame, its haughty purity. How would it ever endure the fret, and the +worry, the fever, and the sting, of those petty jealousies, those angry +spites, those mean competitions which, by some sad fate, seem bound to +swarm about the green-room of a theatre, and, perhaps with even special +fury, beset the musical drama? + +And, then, there is the wretched finance! This delicate, nervous +artistic life of the drama is all netted in the meshes of mercantile +speculation. It is being _exploité_; it must be made to pay. It is in +the hands of those for whom it is a remunerative enterprise, a financial +concern. Each individual gift has its price, each has to come into the +market; each artist feels himself the prisoner, or the prey, of some +commercial transaction. That which should be a temple of art is turned +into a house of merchandise, even if it escapes becoming a “den of +thieves.” Such a situation is inevitable to the theatrical career. But +what a bitter warfare for such a one as Jenny Lind to find herself +waging—she, who held her voice as a boon from God, endowing her with a +prophetic mission! What fretful disputes! What weary wranglings! What +pettiness of detail! How she would loathe it! Every fibre of her frame +would repudiate these narrow and nasty necessities. Nor was she happy in +her management of such affairs. As we have seen, in the Bunn incident, +which was agitating her so profoundly at the very moment of her +interview with Mrs. Grote, she was apt to hastily rush into a bond; and, +then, at once, to regret it, and, perhaps, attempt to undo it. She would +consult, and take advice, and be persuaded; and, then, react afterwards, +and desert the advice which she had accepted. All this was natural +enough for a young girl driven to fight for her own hand, amid the mob +of managers, of strange tongues, and peoples, competing for the chance +of driving a good bargain with her, of reaping a profit out of her. It +was natural enough for a spiritual genius, beating about in unknown +waters, tangled in alien winds. How could she comprehend the rigidities +of business? But, natural and intelligible though it were, it was bound +to bring her trouble which might well make her sicken of a career which +involved matters so odious, and so disturbing.[138] + +Moreover, she was already tired of the incessant strain involved in the +very act of performing. She had been hard at it for so long. She had +known all that its richest successes could bring her, ever since +childhood: and the uproar of applause could throw no deceptive glamour +over all the painful and exhausting fatigues, that are inevitable in a +career which draws so desperately upon the emotional resources, and +which must be subject to such violent recoils as the drained forces +slowly recuperate themselves. + +And then, in vivid antithesis to this warfare of a public career, there +was the hope of tranquillity in Sweden. Here was a most forcible factor +in the decision. Throughout all that period in Germany, we have heard +notes of her home-sickness. Again and again, it comes over her, as we +have seen, like a veritable illness.[139] She had nothing in her of the +Bohemian. At the root of her innermost being, lay the domestic instinct— +the craving for the security of fixed and sure family life. And how +lonely, in contrast, was that restless pilgrimage over Europe which was +the normal condition of her theatrical life! True, she had a wonderful +way of winning admittance, at each city, into some private house, where +she was surrounded with affection. But yet how transitory all such +visits must be! Ever she must hurry on,—she and her one companion, to +fulfil engagements in this strange place and in that; there was no rest +for her feet; no constant refuge into which to retreat. All was in +movement; nothing stood still. She was never more than a passing guest. + +As we picture the dismal instability, the arid homelessness of such a +wandering existence, we can hardly wonder that all the splendour of her +triumphant career could never expel or stifle in her the passionate +desire to escape and be at peace, in some tranquil harbour amid the home +waters—some still and unchanging retreat nestling under the familiar +pines. + +This deep and passionate longing showed itself, during the very time of +which we are now speaking, in two most remarkable letters, already +quoted in this work, which will prove how deliberate her intention had +become. In the letter written on November 24th, 1845, to Madame Erikson, +it will be remembered that she says: + + “I wonder if I dare let out that next autumn I shall come home quite + quietly, and settle down, caring nothing for the world. You will call + this a crime; but please reflect how difficult it is to stand all this + roving about, _alone, alone_,—ever to have to rely on my own judgment, + and, besides, so absorbed in my _rôles_. Oh, it is not easy!”[140] + +And to Josephson she wrote on December 1st, 1845, in the very thrill of +the joyful excitement at her growing powers, and at her frequent +meetings with Mendelssohn: + + “I have the old home-sickness all the same! And my only wish is to get + into quietude away from the stage. And a year hence I go home, and + remain at home, my friend! Ah! how I shall enjoy life! Ah! peace is + the best that there is!” + +Always the moments of European success are those at which this note of +home most emphatically occurs. Here, for instance, is an illustration— +one more added to the many already familiar to us. It occurs in a +beautiful letter of hers, written from London, in June, 1847, to a young +friend in Sweden, Miss Behrens, now Madame Lamm, who had lived on the +opposite side of the courtyard, in the Bonde Palace, when Jenny Lind +lived there with the Lindblads. They used to talk to each other by the +open windows: and, now, Miss Behrens has sent her a drawing of her old +window in the courtyard. She writes in return, out of the very heart of +her London triumphs: + + “MY GOOD KIND FANNY, + + “You must not conclude, from my long silence, that I have forgotten + you. I cannot do that, with any one to whom my heart has, at any time, + been drawn; nor could I become cold and indifferent towards them. + + “Thanks, my good Fanny, for the dear little drawing you sent me. I + only wish I could fully express the pleasure it has given me.... + + “It appears to me to be a sacred act to stand in thought before that + window, where I have stood so often: and to go over, in spirit, all + that time I lived behind it. For the people with whom I lived then (I + mean, the Lindblads) are, and will remain for ever the dearest to me + on earth, and the best objects of all my thoughts! + + “And you will now meet them soon! + + “How are you, yourself? Are you still the same child as of yore? With + the laughter as then? And are you conscious of your good luck? Do you + know what it means to be ‘at home’? + + “Thank God, I shall now soon come back to it; for where the heart is, + there the whole self yearns to be. I am right grateful to God for + having preserved in my breast this love for my native land; for it + might have happened that I never again should have wished for Sweden + after the heavenly—yes! the heavenly career which I have had. If you + knew, Fanny, what a sensation of the nearness of a higher power one + instinctively feels, when one is permitted to contribute to the good + of mankind, as I have done, and still do! Believe me, it is a great + gift of God’s mercy! + + “I am in excellent health; and have been so ever since I set foot on + foreign soil; and this I look upon as the greatest of many gifts. + + “But the paper is coming to an end—so I end also. Farewell, until we + meet again! and greet thy parents from yours affectionately, + + “JENNY LIND.” + + “Do you still have the same room?” + +There is the secret of her heart laid open—its instinctive, its solemn, +its religious hold on home-affections. This it is which does so much to +create the passionate desire for withdrawal from that sad, lonely +pilgrimage, as of a stranger and a sojourner, which the Drama +necessitates. + +We have sketched the inner temper with which she came to her +determination. Let us now trace out, by more exact steps, the growth of +the resolution to act. + +The desire, then, was present in her, during the autumn of 1845. +Already, by December, it had taken a fixed and deliberate form. We can +pursue it unfailingly after this, point by point. Let us follow on its +track. + +On July 4th, 1846, she writes to her dear friend to whom she opened her +soul so often, Madame Amalia Wichmann: + + “I am fully determined, that next summer, or at the very latest, next + autumn, I will leave the stage. I will meanwhile make use of the + interval; and if I could, indeed, get things so arranged this spring, + it might be wiser to nurse up my powers for the approaching + winter....” + +Here we have her resolutely scheming how to bring about her +determination; she is engaged in fixing the dates. Everything is rapidly +settling itself in her mind. + +Again, we have already read a letter written on her birthday from +Frankfort, to Madame Birch-Pfeiffer, which gives exact precision to her +determination. + + “I am longing to get away from the stage. I think, now, that I shall + be ready in six months. I cannot do otherwise: it is stronger than + I.”[141] + +In the November that followed the writing of this letter, it would seem +that her Berlin friends were alarmed at her resolution, and the result +was a letter of strong appeal to her from the influential critic of the +_Voss’che Zeitung_, Herr Rellstab, whose high opinion of her we already +know. The letter is lost; but it was one that (she confesses) greatly +pleased her: and it was, no doubt, one which put, in the most forcible +and effective manner possible, the claim which the world had to enjoy +the manifestation of dramatic gifts so special and so elevating as her +own. But in a letter to Madame Wichmann, written on November 28th, from +Carlsruhe, in which she mentions having received this appeal from +Rellstab, she still says: “For all that, I am firm.” The considerations, +then, so many and so strong, which should keep her on the stage, have +already been laid before her, in as masterful and earnest a form, +probably, as they could ever be thrown into; and, yet, though she has +weighed them, she is not moved. + +On January 20th, 1847, she writes a charming letter from Vienna, +introducing Schumann and Madame Schumann, in the warmest terms, to the +favour of the Wichmanns;[142] in which she ends— + + “Yes! when shall I see you again! Ah! how this longing for peace grows + in me beyond all bounds! But time flies on fast: and, surely, no + creature were ever so utterly happy as I,—if only I were free!” + +That longing, that was rising in her beyond all bounds, came, we must +remember, in the very heart of one of her most bewildering hours of +dramatic glory. The enthusiasm for her at Vienna rose even to frenzy. +There was nothing that was not possible for her, there: everything was +at her feet. But, for all that, it cannot check her deep desire for +peace. + + “Her life was turning, turning, + In mazes of heat and sound; + But for peace her soul was yearning, + And now, peace laps her round.” + +Again from Vienna, on February 13th, came an eager, and indignant +reassertion of her will. Madame Wichmann has heard a rumour that she is +meditating an engagement at Paris; and the answer she gets is clear +enough: + + “MY VERY DEAREST! + + “What is it that has come to you? _I_ go to Paris? Never, in my life! + Who can have told you this? And how should I ever have bound myself to + such a decision, without telling you!... + + “They have, indeed, made me every kind of proposal from Paris—but not + for one second, did I ever think of it! + + “From off the stage I go! I have no other want in the world than + that!” + +Nothing, then, disturbs her intention. In 1847 it will be remembered, +how strongly she asserts to Her Majesty, as she speaks with her after +the private concert at Buckingham Palace, her resolution to leave the +stage.[143] Evidently her London successes, happy as she was in them, +had done nothing to shake her resolution. + +In October when, as we know, she was singing at Berlin, it was with the +clear and general understanding that it was the last time of her +appearance on the stage there.[144] + +On November 4th, Mendelssohn died. How much that meant to her, we know +already. His purity, his exaltation, his fervour thrilled her into high +response. And, then, his belief in her was a perpetual appeal to her to +trust her great gift, to put out all its powers, to live for her Art, as +in holy service. Through him, too, she had entered on those higher +levels of the Oratorio, into which she could pour without hindrance her +full spiritual force. But we cannot resist asking how this influence of +his bore on her present intention. In pressing her to the work of +Oratorio, was he consciously working for her withdrawal from the Opera? +It would appear to have been wholly otherwise: for we have already seen +that he was still, to the very end, possessed with the hope that he +might achieve an Opera which she could interpret. So far was he, then, +from fostering her determination to abandon the stage, that he had, it +would seem, hoped for a development of her powers there, in which he +might assist. What would have been the issue of such an attempt if it +had succeeded? Would it have led further? No one can say. But, now, he +is gone: and she looks out, from her old home, towards that Europe which +is now empty for her of its mightiest presence, of its noblest life: and +she finds herself strangely calm,—calm with the wonderful security and +sweetness of home. + +She is surprised, herself, at her own content. The suspicion that, after +all the brilliant turmoil of Continental glory, it should seem tame and +poor, disproves itself. She sees opportunities of work which will fully +occupy her. All this had its effect in deepening her resolution, in +confirming her desire for peace. And yet, the particular work itself +which she chiefly “set herself to do,” was not quite what we might have +expected. For was it not the endowment of the Theatre School? And how +could this chime in with her purpose of leaving the stage? Here she is, +bending her mind to the training of others for the career which she was +herself longing to abandon. She is trying to save poor children from her +own earlier experiences; but she is making their road smoother towards +that life from which her own later experience was compelling her to +recoil. How did she quite reconcile this double-mind? + +Probably, the changes that came over this her scheme, as she worked it +out, represent the gradual sense of this cross-purposing. But, at any +rate, it remains absolutely certain that, at the time she purposed to +assist the Theatre School, she had no moral reproach whatever to make +against the drama itself: or against the profession of acting. This can +have been, in no degree, the reason for her own withdrawal. It is +important to keep her motives clear. She had a profound sense of its +dangers—of the thorns that beset its roses: but she passes no +condemnation on it itself. + +There was, however, another circumstance, besides the interest of the +Theatre School, which might have been expected to colour, to some +degree, her decision about the stage. She had, as we already know, at +the close of this season in Stockholm, become engaged to Herr Julius +Günther.[145] This engagement meant a great deal to her. On her return +to London, almost immediately after the exchange of rings, she spoke of +it to Mrs. Grote with great enthusiasm; and, in the Note-book, in its +record of a picnic at Wimbledon, Mrs. Grote writes: “Jenny talked with +me for a whole hour about Günther.” + +But Herr Günther was the tenor at the Theatre Royal. His whole life was +cast with the Opera. Such an engagement must, at least, have suggested +closer ties between herself and the theatrical world, which she was so +bent on abandoning. And we cannot but wonder how such a marriage, if it +had taken place, would have suited the resolution which it is our main +object to discuss. The Theatre, and its interests, and its fortunes, +would have been kept close at hand, encompassing her about with constant +insistence. But, whatever the external likelihood of this, there is no +sign that her gladness in the engagement produced any wavering in her +will. + +She passed through her second brilliant London season with the firm +conviction that it was to be her last. And happy as that season was, +there can be little doubt that, deep within her, the religious +convictions, which her English surroundings fostered and developed, were +steadily increasing their hold upon her: and, as their pressure grew, +her repugnance to the theatrical mode of life, to the fever and +restlessness of the dramatic career, grew also, and bred in her a yet +deeper longing for the spiritual peace of privacy and home. All this +would be continually backed by the encouragement of her new companion, +Mdlle. Åhmansson, by whose strong piety she was much impressed, and who +would always be throwing her influence into the scale against the Opera. +So it worked: it began to tell deeply upon her thought, and feeling, and +speech; and, as it did so, it began to disturb her hopes of the future. +For it drew her on to ground with which Herr Günther, far away at +Stockholm, had no familiarity, or sympathy. It is not for us to enter +upon such private affairs. Enough to say that, throughout this period, +the letters that passed between them seem to have revealed more and more +divergence in spirit and in aim; until, by the autumn, it had become +clear to both, that a union was becoming less and less possible. There +was not sufficient harmony between them, as to the motives and +principles by which life should be directed. And, at Dublin, which she +reached, in her provincial tour, on October 8th, the crisis came: the +engagement was broken off by the consent of both. + +Here, then, ended the prospect of a marriage which, though it would +never have broken her decision to leave the stage, would have, at any +rate, linked her with its fortunes and surroundings. There could be no +doubt, now, that when the separation came, it would be complete. And, by +force of circumstance, it happened that the next pressure, which fell +upon her from outside, tended to emphasise the completeness of this +proposed separation. It came upon her in this fashion. During the +provincial tour, recorded in Book VIII., Chap. V. (p. 338), she went to +Newcastle, accompanied by Mrs. Grote; and stayed there, in the house of +Mr. Joseph Grote, brother of the historian. Mr. Joseph Grote had a +brother-in-law staying in the house, a young captain in the Indian army, +called Claudius Harris, who was, entirely, mastered by the charm and the +goodness of the wonderful singer, whom he found to be so startlingly +unlike anything that he had been ever accustomed to associate with the +stage. He followed her, with the enthusiasm of youth, to Edinburgh, +Glasgow, Dublin. But she was touched by finding that they had religious +interests in common. + +Later on, towards the winter, she was singing at Bath, which was his +home: and she took the opportunity of calling upon his mother and +sister, and of asking after him. He immediately rushed there from Mrs. +Grote’s cottage at Burnham Beeches, where he was staying: saw her +frequently: and, soon after, pressed his claim upon her affections. True +to her Swedish training, she told him as soon as he made his offer, that +“he must tell his mother;” and when he said, “Do not be angry with me: I +have already talked to her about it,” she felt the true Swedish delight +in this recognition of the parent’s authority. + +Unluckily, this readiness to consult his mother had its dangers, as well +as its gains, as she was, afterwards, to find to her cost. + +For he had been brought up in a strict Evangelical system, which thrust +the stage outside the pale of religion. His mother had a strong +influence over him; and to her the drama itself was a thing to be +condemned and avoided. “She detested,” we are told, “acting, actors, and +actresses.” Thus Jenny Lind’s splendid dramatic powers wore to him, +probably, the character of perilous temptations, rather than of gifts +from God. + +It was on this last point that collision was inevitable. It was one +thing for her to find the conditions of theatrical life intolerable; it +was quite another to have the moral rectitude of her entire career +challenged in any way. And it is most important for us, in defining her +motive in leaving the stage, to see how her happiness in this engagement +was gone, so soon as it became clear to her that she was asked not +merely to abandon her profession, but to be ashamed of it. At first, +this difference of motive did not disclose itself. When she stayed at +Norwich, in January, 1849, she spoke to Mrs. Stanley of the engagement +with a quiet confidence in the prospect before her. + +“I want a support. I am quite alone,” she said, “and just when I want +help, the finger of God brings me this heart that can feel with me about +all works of charity, just as I do. I never could marry any one who did +not think with me about this: I should say to him ‘Good-bye! good-bye!’” + +“We wish,” she said again, “to live quiet and uninterrupted somewhere. I +want to be near trees; and water; and a cathedral. I am tired, body and +soul; but my soul _most_! More my soul than my body! We are to be +married on the 7th of March” (the anniversary of the _début_ as Agatha). + +She was rejoicing in the feeling that the decision, which had been +making for years, was now finally sealed. “She was free,” she kept +repeating to Mrs. Stanley; she was never to sing on the stage again. Yet +she was dreading how far she might be worked upon to save her old +manager, and his people from ruin. + +What had her Norwich friends to advise, at this crisis of her +abandonment of the stage? It has been made absolutely clear, by what we +have seen, that they had nothing whatever to do with initiating her +intention. It stood firm, and decisive, long before she reached England, +or knew them. Nor had they anything to do with bringing it to a head. +The crisis with Her Majesty’s Theatre had already taken a violent stage +before they learned it from her lips. Their conversation with her, at +her earliest visit, had all turned on her power to purify the drama by +her influence, and example. That was her hope. “_Voilà ce que +j’espère!_” she had exclaimed; and they had strongly encouraged her in +this high aim.[146] It had been all on a different tack, then; and her +deep desire to leave the whole career behind sprang from sources utterly +independent of the Norwich influence. + +But now that the desire has issued in act, now that the resolution is +taken, no doubt, the weight of the Stanleys’ inclinations would all go +to back it. The Bishop had, indeed, bravely broken though the +conventional scruples of religious people in receiving at his palace, as +a friend, one fresh from the boards. Mrs. Stanley had a hearty, and +intelligent appreciation of Jenny Lind’s dramatic powers, as she shows +by a most sympathetic account of her acting in the _Sonnambula_. +Nevertheless, the old Evangelical tradition was strong; it is felt even +in the cordial records of the intimacy which sprang up between the whole +family and Jenny Lind. When, then, she confided to them her resolution, +they could not but sympathise, and approve. Thus, in her conflict with +Lumley and his protestations, she would have behind her the full support +of the Stanleys’ affectionate friendship. + +So it stood. The situation might seem to be a clear one. + +But, nevertheless, a storm of trouble fell upon her. The storm broke +through the concerts which were to be her compensation to despairing +Lumley. + +We have heard already the story of the concerts: how the first fell so +far short of its expected effect, that she was compelled to modify her +resolution if she was ever to save Lumley’s finances; and how she, in +order to redeem her pledge to him, offered him six last performances on +the stage. It was this offer, which brought to the front the intense +repugnance felt to the stage itself by Captain Harris and his relations, +and she found herself forced to choose between her lover’s refusal to +consent to these appearances, and her word given to Lumley. What was she +to do? + +Most providentially, at this critical juncture she suddenly won the help +of a most wise and resolute adviser. Mr. Nassau Senior, the well-known +writer, and at that time a Master in Chancery, and a close personal +friend of Mrs. Grote’s, had been asked by that lady to put his legal +knowledge at the service of Jenny Lind, in the anxious matter of +marriage settlements. This he had already done in the month of February; +and now, on the 16th of April, 1849, he found a letter from her, +transmitted through Mrs. Grote, asking to see him. He went the next day +to her cottage, and after she had walked up and down the room for some +time without speaking, she sat down opposite him and fixed on him +steadfastly for a minute or two “her wonderful grey eyes” (as he calls +them), and at last asked him if he could stay a couple of hours. He +stayed; and she poured out to him the whole story—how she was pressed by +people who, according to her own graphic delineation, “think the theatre +a temple of Satan, and all the actors priests of the Devil,” how they +required of her “not only to abandon her profession, but to be ashamed +of it,”—“to go down to Bath, among people who care for nothing but +clergymen and sermons, as a sort of convert or penitent.” In the +meantime “poor Lumley and my colleagues tell me that it is ungrateful in +me, after having acquired such fame as an actress, to desert the stage +as if it were a disgrace;—that if I do so, then, instead of raising the +profession, as I had hoped to do, I shall sink it lower, as I shall seem +to fly from it like a degradation.” + +We see, in all this, how the artist, and the woman, were battling within +her. Here was love brought very near to her; but yet the love clashed +with every instinct that made her an artist. To follow it, was to turn +her whole past history, into which she had herself thrown such lofty +motives, such pure inspirations, such religious elevation, into a +reproach, a scandal. It would make a breach in the continuity of her +life; it would set her at war with herself. No wonder that she cried, “I +see that, any way, all my happiness is gone for ever.” + +But Mr. Nassau Senior brought to bear upon the situation the excellent +experience of a wise lawyer. He was absolutely clear that, under the +circumstances, her first duty was to fulfil her engagement to Lumley, +and, if Captain Harris treated that as a sufficient reason for +separation, then to break off the marriage, which was bound to be so +obviously unsuitable. + +She saw this to be the true course; and, she, finally, signed a letter, +addressed to Mr. Senior, begging him to see Mrs. Harris, and to tell her +that, after consulting her friends, she found that they considered her +bound, in honour, to her profession, to the public, and to Mr. Lumley, +to perform for a few nights at the Opera; that, if Mr. Harris considered +his principles to be hurt or dishonoured by this,—then she could not be +responsible for the consequences. + +Even this letter did not quite end matters. Captain Harris after all +persuaded himself to agree to the six performances; and Mr. Senior was +called in, not to convey ultimatums, but to draw up settlements; the +marriage itself was fixed for May 16—by special licence. But, then, with +the settlements, the old bitter question reappeared. Though she was, +herself, determined, as we well know, to leave the stage for ever, yet +her adviser naturally refused to make this a legal condition of the +settlement. His client ought _not_ to be fettered. As a woman with a +profession, and owning money, she was bound to be left free; she must be +given full liberty to use her vocal powers as she thinks fit. There +could not be an express proviso against her ever acting. And moreover, +it was also imperative that, apart from the question of the stage, she +should have full power to make her own engagements to sing, and complete +control over the disposition of her own earnings. This, as we know, was +a vital matter, according to her mind. To her, her earnings were a +sacred trust for which she was answerable. So her adviser insisted. +Captain Harris could not agree to this. The freedom demanded for the +wife, seemed to him “unscriptural.” + +Mr. Senior was leaving for Paris on May 10th with Mrs. Grote; but, +before going, he earnestly recommended Mdlle. Lind to allow no change in +the settlements, out of which he had already expunged every word against +which any complaint could be made; and he begged her, if all was broken +off, to come, without a day’s delay, straight to Mrs. Grote at Paris, +where she would find counsel and comfort, without which, in her +loneliness, she could not stand. + +Off to Paris, to Maison Fenci, in the Champs Elysées, he went with Mrs. +Grote, to await anxiously the issue. Letters arrived on the 13th, the +14th, and the 15th, which, though full of fluctuations, and +uncertainties, spoke of negotiations, conducted by Mrs. Stanley, which +ended in a mutual release of both from the engagement. + +But, even now, would she be firm in her promise to leave London, and +come to Paris? Anyhow, a room was got ready; and, on the 16th itself, at +about seven in the evening, when Mrs. Grote was sitting, with a +headache, over the fire, there was a tap at the door, and in came Jenny +Lind. + +She had got her passport the moment after her decision had been taken, +and had come as fast as steam could carry her. She was free; and free in +a manner honourable to both. She seemed to pant chiefly for rest; she +felt tired “to her very bones.”[147] + + + + + CHAPTER II. + WANDERINGS AT EASE. + + +We have, now, reached the date at which we broke off the story of our +heroine, after her farewell to the Opera, while we paused to recall her +social intimacies in England, and, then, to recover the thread of those +inward motives, which led, from far back in her life, to her final act +in abandoning the stage. We are, now, in full possession of her mind and +can set out, once again, with her, on the path along which her career, +for the future, carries her. It is needless to enter upon the inward +troubles that necessarily followed the severe crisis through which she +has passed. Gradually her old self stole back to her. She began to +delight in the scenery of Paris, which, in May, is enchanting. She had +long walks in the Tuileries, and drives in the Bois de Boulogne; and +“could have listened for hours,” writes Mr. Senior, “to the +nightingales. She has paid great attention to the habits of +singing-birds, and told us stories of their shyness and coquetry and of +the manner in which she used to get them to sing by pretending not to +attend to them.”[148] She called on Meyerbeer; she gave a musical lesson +every morning to a Swedish girl, Miss Ebeling. + +She sang for an hour at the piano, at a five o’clock tea, ending with +the farewell song in the _Vestale_. “You have sometimes asked me which +is my best part—it is the _Vestale_,” she said to Mr. Senior. She went +to the _Prophète_, but got quickly tired of it, and came home after the +second act. She sang one evening at the house of the Swedish minister, +exciting, according to Mrs. Grote’s diary, “the most extravagant +admiration.” + +Altogether, she found herself enjoying the blessed sense of freedom from +anxiety and the hurry of work, and was beginning to welcome the many +experiences which Paris could give. But, suddenly, in June, a sad event +threw her into grief. She had met Madame Catalani, and had sung to her +in a way that delighted that renowned singer;[149] but, on Mrs. Grote +calling to leave cards, before their departure from Paris, Madame +Catalani was found to be dead, stricken suddenly of cholera. Mdlle. Lind +was profoundly distressed; the shock quite unnerved her; she could not +rest until they had all got away from Paris, and its horrible cholera. + +It was thus that the whole party fled to Amiens, including her guardian, +Judge Munthe, who had come from Stockholm to consult and advise. With +him she continued her journey through Brussels to Cologne. And here a +crisis occurred, which she shall tell in her own words. They were +written in a long letter, to Madame Wichmann, from Schlangenbad, July +11, which shall be given almost entire; for it reviews the whole matter +which we have been following out, and it reveals her inner feelings and +convictions after all that she had gone through. It begins by many +apologies for not writing before. + + “Really I could write volumes! But it is just this which makes + writing, to me, so detestable—that, in reality, one can convey so + little by it! I have lately gone through much, my dearest Amalia, and + should like to recount it to you from my innermost heart; but not to + put it all down on paper.... Things and experiences approached me + which deeply affected my peace of mind. Everything in my innermost + heart remained undecided for a long time. I did not know what to + write. I was very near to marrying. But again it came to nothing; and + I believe this was the best, for there were things that did not please + me, and I should probably not have been made happy.... + + “Oh dear! I am once more myself: and I feel that I have many other + duties, and great duties, to fulfil towards others—though the finest, + the most sacred of all—I mean, a mother’s love, is forbidden—nay! + denied to me! + + “I could have wished for this feeling: for it would have given me the + resting-place, of which I stand in need: and where, I fancy, I could + have achieved something good, owing to the varied experiences, which + through life I have gained already. + + “But dearest soul! I am happy all the same! Inexpressibly happy: for + have I not been favoured by fate with much more than I deserve, such + as is vouchsafed to few here on earth!... + + “I left London for Paris, where I tumbled into the most fearful + cholera epidemic. Thither my dear guardian came, in order that I might + have a trusty soul about me. Then on June 13th we went to Brussels, + and from there to Cologne, and have looked at the Rhine. Old father + Rhine! how glorious it is, and ever will be! Well, I had meanwhile + sent my Swedish lady to London to pack up; and to have my things sent + to Sweden. But one day I went to see a renowned doctor at Coblentz, to + consult him about my shattered nerves. He examined my head, and also + my heart (which are, both, terribly fatigued), and then told me that, + unless I nursed myself properly now, I should be liable to break down + completely when I took up work again. He has utterly forbidden me to + sing for six or eight months: and has sent me here for a fortnight, in + preparation for four weeks at Ems. After Ems I am free until after + October. But I wish to spend next winter in Sweden, where I have many + matters to arrange. + + “Dear, kind, Amalia! could not we meet somewhere? Are you not in need + of Ems? Could we not go to Switzerland? ... or shall I come to Berlin + or will you come to Ems? or are we not to meet at all???? I have just + received a letter from London, confirming the news of —— —— + re-appearance! I am much surprised at this. May a gracious God + preserve me from such a calamity as to come before the public as an + old lady! Rather bread and water! While in Paris, I saw Meyerbeer, and + his new opera. I was glad to see him again, for he has always been + very good to me: but I prefer his earlier operas. + + “Will you please remember me to old Frau Beer? And how is dear + Professor Werder? Has he completely forgotten me? And old Frau + Schrœder?” (the porter’s wife at the Wichmanns’ house). “I love a + person like that immensely! I know nothing more beautiful than such a + faithful old being, going about in a family, who really lives only in + taking interest in what concerns her master’s family, and in feeling + for them and with them! Greet this dear old soul; and also good Nanke: + and Frederic (the man-servant). It was my happiest time when I saw all + this daily before me! If I send no greetings to my Professor, or my + beloved brothers, it is because it goes without saying. Everything + that I have written here to you, is meant also for the father and his + sons. God protect you all! + + “Send a friendly answer, and then I shall know that you _never_ could + have doubted that I remain for ever and ever, + + “Your faithful, and sincerely loving, + “JENNY LIND.” + +The doubt that she refers to, arose from the long silence, for which the +early part of the letter overwhelmingly apologises—an apology that has +very frequently to be repeated in the course of Jenny Lind’s +correspondence. + +The doctor’s verdict shows how merciful it was that she had not had the +strain of another opera season in London laid upon her. The fatigue of +the shattered nerves may, no doubt, have been partly due to the agonies +of the conflict with Lumley, and of the decision in the matter of her +marriage. But, still, the tired heart and tired head, of which she spoke +at Norwich, were evidently no fancy of her own, but very serious facts. +She had been hard at work for so many years: and was now thoroughly +exhausted. + +On July 14th she wrote to Madame Birch-Pfeiffer one of the confidential +outpourings, which tell so much. In it, she says— + + “What do you say of my having left the stage? I cannot tell you in + words how happy I feel about it. I shall sing in concerts so long as I + have a voice; but that only gives me pleasure; and in this way I shall + be able to work at least five years longer; and that is necessary for + me, as, for the last twelve months, I have sung only for institutions + and charities. Without a beautiful goal, one cannot endure life. At + least, _I_ cannot. I have begun to sing what has long been the wish of + my heart—Oratorio. There I can sing the music I love; and the words + make me feel a better being. See! dear mother! my career, in the + future, will take this direction; and my favourite idea be realised.” + +From Schlangenbad she wrote to Madame Mendelssohn, apparently for the +first time since his death. And soon after this letter, she paid her a +visit at Creuznach on the Rhine: and another affectionate letter +followed the visit: so that her long silence, since the death, was +entirely explained, and the old memories came to a kind and satisfying +close. She hoped still to work on behalf of the Mendelssohn +scholarships. + +To Ems, for the present, she went from Schlangenbad: and, according to +reports that reached Mrs. Grote, appeared soon to be in excellent health +and in high spirits, enjoying a dance whenever opportunity offered. It +was from Ems, on the 8th of August, that she wrote a long letter again +to Madame Birch-Pfeiffer full of the deepest personal interest. In it, +she discloses her own interpretation of the strange animation that had +followed on her exhausting struggles. Here are some extracts:— + + “DEAREST MOTHER B.! + + “You ask me, ‘Are you, then, going to be married?’ I answer, ‘No! + never!’ I have, indeed, greatly wished for it, for few have more + strongly than I, the real inner feeling of a wife: and a deep blessing + it would have been to me to have called a child ‘my own.’ And I had + got very, very near to it lately in England, my dear mother! but——” + +And, then, she tells how many things told against it—how the young man +was too young, and too gentle; and how his mother was impossible: and +how her whole art was a shut book to him: and yet how he touched her +just because he embodied the English character, with its religious +purity: “Ah! dear mother, I love with my whole soul the English +character!” But it has ended; they have parted, and, now, it seems to +her as if the affair had done her good, rather than harm: + + “It has passed over my soul like a beneficent storm which has broken + down all the hard shell of my being, and has set free many green + plants to find their way to the dear sun! So that, now I am always + clothed in green like the fairest hope! And I see quite clearly how + infinitely much there is for me to do with my life; and I have only + one prayer, that I may yet live long, and that, in the evening of my + life, I may be able to show a pure soul to God. + + “I am going quietly back to Sweden for next winter, to take fresh + measures on behalf of my school, and to wed myself wholly to + well-doing, for which I am, finally, born, since it is the sense of + man’s worth which has ever drawn me most strongly, and has most richly + filled my soul; and, if only I can come at all near my aims in this, + then no one is more to be envied than I! + + “You see, my future lies clear in front of me, my dear friend and + mother!” + +She goes on to ask, with devoted affection, for news of Minni (Madame +Birch-Pfeiffer’s daughter, who has kindly furnished us with this and +other letters), to whom she pledges herself in life-long sisterhood. +And, at the end, she closes thus— + + “Mother, I am glad and grateful from morning to night! I do not feel + lonely: and have no trace of ennui: and only find the days fly by too + horribly quick. I have a blitheness in my soul, which strains towards + heaven! I am like a bird; I do not feel the least changed, quite the + contrary; and the ‘summa summarum’ is that I have won the greatest + profit out of both outer and inner misfortune; and can thank God that + I know what trouble is! All makes at last for good! God does not die, + dear mother.” + +Her doctor, then, advised a grape-cure, at Meran in Tyrol, to complete +her recovery: and thither she sets herself to draw the Wichmanns, +proposing all sorts of ways by which they might all meet there. “You +must not put yourselves out, dearest,” she writes to Madame Wichmann; +“but it would be delicious if you did resolve to come to Meran.” She +proposes to be there from the middle of September to the middle of +October. And, finally, they did all settle together at Ober-Mais, a +village just above Meran. Thither offers pursued her, as we learn from a +letter of Herr Büttner, a Frankfort merchant who kindly looked after her +many affairs in South Germany, to Herr Munthe, her guardian. + + “Mdlle. Jenny Lind has safely arrived at Meran, and is well and happy + there. _From everywhere_ they try to get our dear friend. A very big + offer has come from England, higher than ever, and with every sort of + guarantee. Last week an American has gone from here to Meran in order + to induce her to go to New York. Well! such an artist has never before + existed! May heaven grant her good health and inward contentment!” + +This was not the first time that America had crossed her mind. Already +on the 13th of June, while in Paris, in a letter to Madame Schwabe, she +begs her to ask Mr. Schwabe what his views would be on the possibility +of her giving concerts in America. But nothing yet is settled. The whole +party returned together in October, by way of Voralberg to Frankfort; +and, after parting there with her dear friends, she was taken from +Frankfort to· Hamburg, where she was to sing in some concerts. She wrote +touchingly from there of the joy she had had in the intimacy of the +Wichmanns during the stay at Meran together. The letter is dated October +29th. + + “MY OWN DEAREST AMALIA— + + “... I was greatly overcome when you all were gone! I am, certainly, + accustomed to be alone; but I knit myself too quickly to people whom I + love, and cannot, then, believe that I must lose them again! I had got + so used to enjoying the happiness of being in your helpful + companionship, and of seeing your domestic love, that I was sad indeed + for the whole of Sunday! You dear good people! To think that you + should permit me to be a partner in your happiness! You cannot think + how grateful I am for all this, dearest!” + +At Hamburg, a summons came to her, through the Wichmanns, from the King +of Prussia, Frederick William IV., who had made her his Chamber-singer +in 1847,[150] that she should come to Berlin, and sing to him and the +Queen, on the Queen’s birthday. Her loyal soul was touched by the +message; she wrote back to Madame Wichmann, with kindled feeling:— + + “How deeply your letter went home to me, I cannot really tell you! It + cannot but move my very heart to think that His Majesty the King + should be so gracious to me, and I shall account it the greatest joy + if I can succeed in giving even the slightest pleasure to the Queen by + my singing.... Pray tell Count Redern (through whom the request came) + that I gladly obey the King’s desire, and will be in Berlin by the + 19th of this month (November). + + “Ah! dear Amalia (so she closes her letter) I long after you all! It + remains true that it is with you, and yours, that I have spent the + happiest days in my life!” + +She sang in several concerts, during this November and December in +Hamburg; and one of these, with full orchestra, in the “Grosse Tonhalle” +on November 22nd was given by Mr. Otto Goldschmidt, of whom she saw a +good deal at this time. They did much music together. He played, and she +sang; the memory of Mendelssohn was a strong common bond between them. +Mr. Goldschmidt began to persuade her to sing again those songs of +Mendelssohn’s which, for two years, she had found it impossible for her +to touch. He was charged with the musical spirit of his great master: +and she recognised this. It was at this time that she received so +distinct an impression of his gifts, that it was of him she first +thought when, two years later, on her American tour, she found herself +in want of one who could make up for the loss of Julius Benedict. So +this visit to Hamburg was quietly “making history” for her after-life. + +When the day of departure drew near, she was amused and delighted to +find an express messenger sent by the royal authority to convey her to +Berlin in the shape of W. Taubert, the distinguished Hof-Capellmeister, +who had always been most friendly to her, and in whom she greatly +delighted. “I cannot help laughing with joy when I think of seeing that +dear man Taubert to-morrow. I confess that it gives me huge pleasure!” +So she wrote to “Amalia.” + +To Berlin she came, under these happy conditions, staying in the beloved +house of the Wichmanns: and singing before King and Queen. + +In the meantime, another King was pressing her hard to reverse her +deep-seated decision, and to feel once again the boards under her feet. +The pressure came in a form that would touch her profoundly. It was an +appeal from her own King, Oscar I. of Sweden, to give a lift to her old +home, the Royal Theatre at Stockholm, at the time of the festivities +that were to be held, in the spring of 1850, on the occasion of the +marriage of the Crown Prince Charles, afterwards King Charles XV. She +was Court Singer; and in the service, therefore, of the King. And +moreover, the appeal was transmitted through her old master Herr Berg, +who had come across from Sweden, in November, on this mission, to meet +her at Hamburg. The strength of her determination could not be more +severely tested. Her innate loyalty, patriarchal in its simplicity, her +home affections, her patriotism, her devotion to her old master, her +deep instincts of obedience to authority—all radical elements woven into +the very fibre of her character—must have all conspired to move her. Yet +there is no record or sign of her having wavered for even a moment. We +do not know that she consulted her friends. Her indecision, at momentous +crises, was apt to betray her into many fluctuations, and to leave +numerous traces behind it. But, on this occasion, there is not a note. +We only know that Herr Berg was powerless. He had to retire, sailing +home again from Lübeck on the 7th of December, whither she courteously +escorted him herself. A kindly letter, written on December 25th, in +autograph, from the King closed the attempt:— + + “The Court-singer Berg has, on his return, informed me of the + willingness with which you, Fröken Lind, have declared yourself ready + to appear, next year, at several concerts, in order that by your + brilliant talent, you may render powerful assistance to our theatre. I + recognise, in this, a fresh proof of Fröken Lind’s patriotic feelings, + and of her warm sympathy with the advancement of Swedish Lyric Art; + and I consider it a pleasant duty to express how keenly I appreciate + this decision which is as disinterested as it is admirable. I look + forward to seeing Fröken Lind amongst us again next spring, and remain + with sincere goodwill, + + “Yours graciously, + “OSCAR.” + +It is, indeed, a gracious letter, for the little word “Lyric,” which +occurs in it, is the signal that the original request, that she should +allow herself to recur to the Opera, had not been conceded. Not King nor +Country could induce her to reverse a conviction which had gone down to +the roots of her being. + + + + + CHAPTER III. + LÜBECK. + + +Lübeck, to which she had gone to accompany Herr Berg homewards, was to +hold her yet awhile; and was to be the scene of that momentous decision +which is to form the close of these volumes. She wrote, during her stay +there, letters which carry with them much of her innermost mind. +Altogether, it is a marked spot in her story. + +She seems to have been delayed there by an accident. + + “Dearest Amalia,” she wrote on the day of Herr Berg’s departure, “I + write with no very bright spirits to you, for I have no chance of + seeing you and yours again so soon as I had hoped. My good Josephina + has fallen ill. It is nothing dangerous, thank God! on the contrary, + the doctor thinks that, after it is over, she may be better than she + was before. + + “But you will understand well enough, that I cannot, and will not + leave her. So that I shall not be able to be with you, my dear ones, + by Christmas Eve, but must wait for the New Year, to knock at your + door.... Ah! write me some few words, before that, dearest, and say + that you are still good to me, and how it goes with them all. + + “Your grateful, and loving + “J. L.” + +There she stayed: and, from there, just at this same moment, she wrote a +long, and personal letter to her old friends, of whom we have heard +before,—Baroness French and her daughter. She had suddenly had a letter +from them, and this reminded her of her long silence; and her heart is +touched: and she offers eager and characteristic apologies. + +We leave her English just as she wrote it, because she herself +apologises for its “funny” style, in the letter, and it will serve to +show what was her command over the language at that time. The sentence +on Madame Catalani shows how deeply that swift death had impressed her:— + + “Lübeck, the 6th of December, 1849. + + “MY DEAR MADAM, + + “I wish you really could see how pleased I am to receive a few kind + words from you and Miss Georgina. Accept my very best thank for the + last letter. I must confess that I have safely got the one you were so + kind to write me when I was at Ems. I was for a long time so very + low-spirited. Madame Catalani stood always before my eyes, and her + smiling face does still follow me very often. I thank you a thousand + times, my dear Baroness, that you still remember me so very kindly, + although I have not given you any sign of life since long ago. I have + long wished to write you a few words, but I had dropped your address + at London, and did not know whether you were to return to that place + or not. I very often think of my dear Miss Georgina, who I really love + a great deal! I hope that blessed sweet young lady is in perfect + health. I wished very much to have the happiness of seeing you and + your daughter very soon again, my dear Madam, but I have no idea of + going to England at present. You are very kind in asking about my head + and health—I feel myself rather stronger, my head is _very_ naughty at + some times, but seldom to the _highest_ degree. My nerves are better, + and I feel _much less_ agitated and more quiet than before. I believe + that my having left the stage may be the chief reason for this happy + change; my whole nature and my way of feeling was always very opposite + to that sort of being, who can bear the calumnies of a theatrical + life. Can you understand my ‘funny’ English, dear Madam? + + “My good Miss Åhmansson, who is such a valuable and solid friend to + me, is not at all well! She is ill at this moment—she has got a sort + of low ‘fièvre’ with small red (rouge) spots over her body (excuse my + bad English, I don’t know how to express myself in this medical case). + It is nothing dangerous, but we are kept up in this little place for + four weeks; and, it is really a good thing, that I don’t much care for + the world and its amusements; for I should, if the case was contrary, + feel rather lonely and tiresome; but so, I am happy with my music, my + little dog—my books—my study—and the great number of sublime + remembrances. We intend to go from here to Berlin, as soon as Miss + Åhmansson will recover; we remain in Berlin a few weeks, I should + think, and then we probably go to Russia; I must try to get money; I + wonder how I will like _that_ part of the world, and how that part of + the world will like such a thing as myself! In the month of May I + return to Sweden, as I suppose, only for a short time, because my + doctor will most likely get me to Ems once again! I have sung (chanté) + a few times, and my voice is grown stronger and better. + + “I hope now, my dear Baroness, you have got plenty of news from me! + Will you kindly forgive my so much speaking of myself—but I do this + only to persons I love and respect. Take not away your kindness and + friendship towards me, dear respected Madam, I entreat you; and be + assured that I think of you, and remember you with true and sincere + affection! My sister-love, and sister-blessing to Miss Georgina. Send + me, sometimes, a few words which tell me about your health, and + happiness; for such kindness my heart will always feel thankful! + + “I am, + “Dear Madam, + “Your most affectionate, + “J. LIND.” + + + “Little Beauty (her King Charles dog) is _quite_ well!” + +This letter is full of her most instinctive feelings. There is the old +hunger to be assured, by visible token, that affections for her are +still strong, with the haunting fear lest they should have ceased in +absence; while, after all, it turns out that she herself, whether +through lack of time, or possibly, through a dim sense of vague +distrust, fails and forgets to keep communication constant. + +Then, again, how noticeable is her sense of peace in having left the +agitations of the stage behind her! It is her old familiar manner of +expressing her repugnance, such as we saw it at the first, when she +opened her heart to Mrs. Grote. It is not the Drama as such on which she +passes judgment. But “the calumnies”—the warfare, the strain, the +anxiety—which the career involved—_these_ are wholly opposite to her +nature. She cannot bring herself to contemplate a return under their +yoke. So she remains very happy, with her music, her little dog, her +books, and her store of splendid memories. + +But she needs money—not for herself, but for her great scheme of home +charity. It is for this that she is contemplating Russia. What the +overtures made to her on this matter were, she does not say; but, as we +shall see, the Russian trip is, very soon, to be discarded in favour of +a new proposal from the West. She writes, on January 8th, from Lübeck, +to Madame Wichmann:— + +“I am not to go to Russia after all, for Russia is thrown into the +background by another big plan. But I shall come to you as was planned +at first, though it be for only a short time.” + +The “other plan” is indeed a big one. It is the great American tour. +Through the person of his agent, Mr. J. H. Wilton, who has planted +himself at her side, Mr. Barnum has come into action, and is pressing +his trip with the decision, the vigour, the imagination, the practical +confidence which he knows so well how to throw into a scheme. + +We remember how the idea of America had floated before her ever since +she left London; and tentative American gentlemen had hovered about her, +in her Meran retreat. But there is nothing floating, nothing tentative, +in Mr. Barnum’s conception of what is to be done. He sees, and knows, +exactly what it is which can be achieved. He is absolutely resolute; he +has complete command of resources; he is ready to give the most positive +pledges, and his offer is not only generous—it is magnificent. +Everything that she has dreamed of, will be possible to her, if she is +free to apply to her schemes on behalf of poor children the splendid +fruits which Mr. Barnum is prepared, confidently, and without reserve, +to promise her. Three days later than his last letter, she writes to say +that the thing is done;—the contract is signed. It was the largest +contract, probably, that had then ever been made for such a purpose; and +had about it the stamp of that boldness which is so characteristic of +its American author, who was the first to perceive the new and immense +scale on which the world’s amusements could be carried out, now that +steam, by sea and land, had knit the vast population of the wide earth +together into one mass, which could be dealt with as a single whole. +This is why Mr. Barnum’s name is noticeable. He has gone high and low, +in his actual range; he has sometimes brought near to man a splendid +gift like this voice of Jenny Lind; he has, at others, dropped to +providing them with food for the stupid gaze of mere blind wonder. But, +always, he has understood the condition of his day. Always, he has seen +that the same resources which have made the face of the earth a single +market, can be turned to the purpose of making it also a single fair. +Just as each of us now draws upon the whole world for food, so each of +us may draw upon the whole world for joy. The railways, that hurry up to +us the one, can equally convey the other. And as this new fact enlarges +the scale of the world’s market, so it will enlarge the scale of the +world’s fair. Enormous accumulations of population, and wealth, all +united under the network of a world-wide commerce, can all be touched, +at one time, by a single pleasure. Amusements, therefore, can now be +universal, popular, democratic. They need no longer be confined to the +few who can afford to pay high for them, paying higher because they are +few: for they can appeal, now, to a far larger purse than the wealthiest +clique could ever possess—the deep purse of the multitudes upon +multitudes, who, through minute subdivision of the general expense, can +be cheaply brought together to taste enjoyment. The American tour of +Jenny Lind was one of the very earliest manifestations of this modern +characteristic. + +To this contract Jenny Lind engaged herself, while seated alone, in the +Hôtel du Nord, Lübeck, with no one but Mdlle. Åhmansson. She was +accustomed to mistrust her own judgment, and to take much counsel; but, +here, she seems to act with free decision. No doubt, she was in +communication with Herr Munthe, her guardian; from Lübeck letters passed +easily to Stockholm. But she herself carried on the necessary +correspondence, putting herself, by the help of Mr. Benedict, into +communication with Mr. Bates, of the firm of Baring Brothers, London, +from whom she obtained assurances of Mr. Barnum’s stability and +position. Belletti, too, was in London at the time, and both to him, and +to Benedict, she wrote constantly, as the negotiations went on. + +Here is the contract itself, in its chief points. It is preceded by a +letter from Mr. Barnum to his agent, authorising him to enter into the +engagement with Miss Jenny Lind, including also a “tenor and a pianist.” +For the pianist, Julius Benedict was secured, the musician so well known +to all in England; instead of “the tenor,” she herself pleaded for, and +obtained, the help of her old helpmate, and counsellor, Giovanni +Belletti, the famous baritone, who had been one of the first, in quite +old days, to inspire her with a sense of what a high artistic style +might mean. + +The contract is made between J. H. Wilton, as agent for Phineas Barnum +as the one party, and Fröken Jenny Lind, as the other. In it, she agrees +to sing at one hundred and fifty concerts, including Oratorios, within +the space of one year, if possible, or eighteen months, counting from +the day of her arrival in New York; the concerts are to be given in the +United States and Havannah. She is to have full power regarding the +_number_ of evenings or concerts in each week, at which she would sing, +as well as over the number of pieces sung by her; only that the concerts +were not to be less than two a week, nor the pieces sung less than four. +All was to be regulated in accordance with the preservation of her +health, and voice. There is an express stipulation that she shall in no +case have to appear in Opera. + +In consideration of these services, she is to have all expenses paid for +journeys and hotels, both for herself and for a lady companion and a +secretary; besides this, she is to be allowed a maid and a servant at +her own disposal, and a carriage and pair; and £200 (or 1000 dollars) +for every concert or oratorio in which she sings. + +“A guarantee for all this is to be deposited with Baring Brothers, in +London, before her departure.” + +There is a special and noticeable stipulation, that Jenny Lind shall +“have perfect freedom whenever she feels inclined,” to sing for +charitable purposes, independently of her present engagement; only she +is to consult him as to times, and places, “with regard to their +reciprocal convenience”; and in no place, may she so sing, until after +two concerts have been given there under her engagement to him. The +remaining stipulations are of the usual type. Finally, she is pledged to +start for America from Liverpool by the last steamer in August, or the +first in September, 1850. + +So it runs; and it is signed and sealed, by the two parties, on January +9, 1850, in the presence of the Consul for Sweden and Norway, Mr. C. A. +Nölting. + +On the basis of this contract, she sailed for America; but two days +after her arrival at New York Mr. Barnum, on his own initiative, tore it +up in her presence, and proposed to her a new form of it, with several +amendments made to meet her wishes. Her astonishment and delight at this +generous treatment are recorded in Barnum’s ‘Autobiography,’ p. +109;[151] and Mr. Frith, in his memoirs,[152] has told his memory of her +own version of it, given him at a dinner-party where he met her. The +chief alterations were (1), a half share of profits whenever the +receipts of a concert were above 5,500 dollars; (2), a careful +stipulation in view of the American climate not suiting her voice; and +(3) her right to give up after sixty concerts—or again after one hundred +concerts, with fixed penalties in either case. + +Of this last right, she availed herself at the close of the ninety-third +concert. Mr. Barnum himself wrote to her, proposing to relinquish the +remaining seven concerts, which would complete the full hundred. They +parted the best of friends; and she, then, gave forty more concerts on +her own speculation, _i.e._, nineteen during the month of June and July, +1851, in New England, and twenty-one more during October, November, and +December, in Canada, Illinois, &c., winding-up with Boston and +Philadelphia, at which town she sang, on December 13th, the last concert +that she ever gave under her maiden name of Jenny Lind. + +Such was the general issue of this Lübeck contract. The offer, made and +secured, was certainly magnificent, and it may be well here to recall +the motives with which she accepted, and fulfilled it. None of it was +intended to be taken for any personal use. She was set on other aims— +above all, on her endowment of a hospital for poor children. She carried +out her intention with care and fidelity. Apart from the concerts on +behalf of special charities, and apart from her own endless gifts to +charitable purposes during the royal progress through the States, the +entire sum gained was thrown into a “private or separate fund,” which +was kept clear and distinct to the end of her life, and was finally left +by her will, to be administered by trustees, for certain definite +purposes. Only twice did she ever consent, in after years, to dip into +the capital for her own benefit; in the first case, it was for the sake +of a small purchase of land, the value of which could be realized and +was, as a fact, returned to the fund. In the second instance she bought +the cottage with its plot of mountain land on the Malvern Hills, at +which she spent such happy holidays during the last few years of her +life, in which she died. The purposes laid down by her will, for the +final distribution of the fund, which in its original form stood at +about £20,000, include a sum of 50,000 Swedish crowns to the University +of Upsala and another equal sum to the University of Lund.[153] These +moneys are to take the shape of scholarships to poor students under a +scheme passed by her trustees. The balance of the fund, after the +various deductions, to which it was liable before and after her death, +have been discharged, will go to a Children’s Hospital at Stockholm, of +which she so often has spoken. + +The interest of the fund, during her life, was largely pledged to the +innumerable pensions for which she made herself responsible, in her +native land. + +We must, however, go back, from these afternotes, to the hotel at +Lübeck. There she remained, after the contract was settled, apparently +with great contentment. She saw her way, now, ahead for the next two +years; she had full proof that the abandonment of the drama would not +cut her off from adequate opportunities of exercising her art. A career +was assured her, in the concert-room, which would fulfil all her aims, +both as an artist, to enrich the world by her splendid gifts, and, as a +woman, to endow the poor by her generosity. She might look forward, with +security, and peace. Nothing which she valued was lost, as she felt; +while much that she detested, had been thrown aside. She records her +satisfaction to Madame Wichmann in a letter written on January 12th:— + + “Hôtel du Nord, Lübeck. + “January 12, 1850. + + “BELOVED AMALIA! + + (First page entirely personal.) + + * * * * “I now wish to give you a clear idea of my future plans, so + that you—and all yours—may know the truth and be able to distinguish + the facts from mere reports. + + “I have decided to go to America. The offer from there was very + brilliant, and everything was arranged so nicely, that I would have + been wrong in declining it; and since I have no greater wish than to + make much money in order to found schools in Sweden, I cannot help + looking upon this journey to America as a gracious answer to my prayer + to Heaven! + + “I shall be able to gain there in the course of one or two years a + very large fortune, and, after three years, should not require to sing + a note unless I wished to do so. My heart resisted my going to England + at the present time; and indeed it is heavily weighted and I often + have a hard time of it; now I need not think of England and I feel + quite relieved, since three days ago I signed the contract. Herr + Benedict (son of the M. Benedict you saw at Meran) comes with me, and + you could not meet with a more honourable man or better friend, and at + the same time with a more reliable musician. An old friend of mine, + Signor Belletti, goes also. He is a distinguished singer, and we have + known one another from old times in Sweden, for the last twelve years. + In short, nothing could have been arranged more admirably. I gave over + at once any plans as to Russia, and did so gladly; for Josephine could + not have stood a Russian journey.... So now we remain—and more + particularly Josephine—here in Lübeck until we take the first steamer + leaving for Stockholm, which I hope will be in April. Then I go home— + sing there a few times in concerts (as I have promised my King to do), + make arrangements in view of my long absence from Sweden, and leave + Stockholm again the last day of June or the beginning of July, in + order to go through a ‘Milch Kur’ somewhere (only not too far away). + This I must have concluded by the middle of August in order to leave + for Liverpool, there to take the steamer for America the first days of + September! It would be something soothing and strengthening to my + feelings, if I could pass the latter weeks of my stay in Europe in + your company, my beloved friends. I therefore need not say further, + how I should rejoice loudly (Germ.: ‘himmelhoch jauchzen’) were such a + prospect open to me. I should much like to go to Salzburg! but more of + this when we meet at Berlin; for I fancy I shall come to you at about + the end of February, or beginning of March. I shall probably soon pay + a visit of some days at Hanover, in order to sing for the good Crown + Prince; I have been so much urged to go there, that I mean to comply + with the request. + + “Well! I hope I have now told you something about us, and that, + besides, you know now that we do not go during the winter to Sweden. + Greet my beloved revered father! Greet the brothers also, and the good + Schröder! When shall I receive the letter from her? How good it was of + Hermann to write to me! and how clearly do I see the scene on + Christmas-eve at your home! We also had a Christmas-tree! Good people + here are fond of us. Next Thursday, the 17th, I am giving—a concert, + you think? Nay, a children’s ball! and I look forward to it with a + right royal joy! + + “Farewell, beloved soul. Preserve to me your inestimable love, as I + remain for life + + “Your ever grateful and loving + “JENNY.” + +Her Christmas-tree! That was what she could never miss: all through her +life, she loved, like a child, the home-feast, the children’s fun of +Christmas-tide. Those who knew her can recall no scene to which she +could more deliciously abandon herself with brimming joy than a +children’s dance at Christmas. All the old Swedish merriment and motion +would bubble up in her at such a time: and her face would laugh all over +with exuberant humour, and her whole body seemed to dance. She had a +gaiety that was infectious: and no wonder, that she managed to make even +a Lübeck hotel merry with her radiance. “Good people here are fond of +us,” she writes; and moreover it may possibly have added to the pleasure +of the Ball that young Mr. Otto Goldschmidt came over to it from +Hamburg, and danced with her many a time. The painful memories of the +last English visit are still heavy upon her heart; and she is profoundly +relieved to think that she is not called upon for the present to face +scenes so charged with recent trouble. All, therefore, is smiling. The +American tour offers just the escape which she needs: and, in the +meantime, she is pleasantly employed in a series of concerts, in the +North German towns, one of which becomes the opening of a friendship +which had a deep interest for her, and which accompanied her path far on +into life. She sang at Hanover on January 29th, and the King and +Queen[154] returned “enraptured, and overpowered” from hearing her in +her Swedish songs; and her Majesty the Queen has graciously put together +for this book, from her diary, her own record of the intimacy which that +concert initiated. She tells how “her relations with this gifted and +noble-minded artist form one of the pleasantest recollections of her +life.” It was not, indeed, the first time that she had heard her sing: +for she had been present in March, 1845, when she sang ‘_Norma_,’ and in +June, 1846, when she gave ‘_La Sonnambula_’— + + “I shall never forget,” her Majesty writes, “the touching and + elevating impression which the incomparable singer produced on all + those present, even on those least easily moved, by her exalted + conception of these parts. She made of ‘_Norma_,’ in the most + wonderful manner, a sublime female figure and prophetess, so that the + part became, throughout, a perfect and glorious new creation. No eye + remained dry while listening to the magic of this divine voice which + stirred to the innermost even those who sang with her. In a word, such + emotions can never be repeated.” + +So it had been; and, now, in 1850, their Majesties saw an opportunity of +making acquaintance with one whom already they so highly admired. + + “Several times,” the Queen records, “the King and I had the + unspeakable happiness of hearing the lovely ‘Northern Nightingale,’ as + he always called her, sing to us at home, in a small and intimate + circle; and we were, of course, from that time forth, quite under the + fascination of her lofty and religious spirit. For my dear husband + especially, with his deep feeling, his vivid imagination, and his + great mental gifts, these days of musical delight remained for long in + his memory, as a source of unclouded joy. + + “From Hanover, Jenny Lind went to Göttingen, and then came back to us, + to say good-bye. She told us, with real delight, and in the joyous + childlike manner so peculiarly her own, how greatly the fresh + enthusiasm of the young students at the University had gratified her. + They had unharnessed the horses from her carriage after the concert, + and had dragged it to the hotel with endless shouts of joy: and, then, + had serenaded her, so that she had had to raise her voice in thanks to + them from the balcony. Enthusiastic shouts of applause had gone up + again and again from a thousand throats, together with a perfect + shower of flowers.” + +The concert, to which the Queen refers, was given on February 4th. Jenny +Lind had sung for herself on the 2nd and she gave this second concert +for the poor. It was, indeed, one of her wonderful triumphs; she swept +the students into a storm of rapturous enthusiasm by her delivery of +Mendelssohn’s ‘Rheinisches Volkslied,’ throwing into the last stanza, +with its outburst of arch and ringing delight—“O Jugend, o schöne +Rosenzeit!”—an energy, and a glow, which were absolutely irresistible. +The F-sharps that occur so frequently in the song would lend themselves +to the most exciting capabilities of her voice; and then her look of +archness, her surrender of herself to the swing and the motion of the +music as it broke out on the high notes, her speed, and her thrill, and +her power of personal magic—Ah! no wonder that the Göttingen students +lost their heads that evening. + +She was elected, by the enthusiastic students, a member of a famous +guild of theirs, known as the “Burschenschaft Hannovera,” which, at that +particular date, was enjoying a period of special success. She became a +“Sister-Associate,” and was presented with the red, white, and green +ribbon of the guild. Her portrait was hung up in their Assembly Room. On +her leaving Göttingen on February 5th the whole guild accompanied her to +Nordheim, a distance of four hours, where a halt was made at the inn +“The Sun,” and addresses delivered, in return for which she sang several +songs for a farewell. She sent off to a small shop in the town, and +bought green and white ribbon, which she tore up into small shreds and +gave each student a piece. So freely and delightedly did she surrender +herself to the glow and the fun of this scene. + +A few days later she received a silk ribbon, of the guild colours, on +which were inscribed the thirty-two names of the students who had sent +it. She wrote, on the 13th February, the following reply:— + + “GENTLEMEN, + + “I accept, with sincere gratitude, the ribbon which you have sent me: + and shall preserve it faithfully to my dying day. + + “Even without this outward token, the 5th of February, 1850, would + have remained engraven on my memory with indelible letters of gold; + but, nevertheless, I regard the ribbon with pride and joy, well aware + of the honour thereby conferred upon me. Oh! that the sun may often + shine as softly upon us all as it did on that day, though such moments + cannot often be a mortal’s lot! Let us then retain their memory, long + after youth has forsaken us! + + “And so I once again stretch out my hand to you all, even from a + distance, as a loving sister; in the hope that you will accept + indulgently these poor and inadequate words of mine. + + “May Heaven protect you all! That is the prayer of your grateful, and + deeply moved + + “JENNY LIND.” + +She was faithful to her word: for the ribbon was found, preserved among +her memorials, after her death. The escort to Nordheim, with its boyish +gaiety is still vividly remembered by those who took part in it. + +She came back to Hanover to sing for the poor on the 9th, after a +concert on the 7th at Bremen. “The Good-bye,” which she then said to the +Queen of Hanover was but the beginning of a friendship which so well +illustrates her character, and has so much of interest in itself, that +we venture to insert, at this place, all that the Queen has kindly +recorded for us of this after-intimacy, even though it carry us far +beyond the limits of time set us in this book. The personal warmth and +affection of the Queen’s memories will more than compensate to the +reader for the breach that we are compelled to make in the continuity of +our story. + + “Our second meeting with Jenny Lind,” continues the Queen, “took place + several years later[155] in the island of Norderney, where she, in + company with a dear old friend from Hamburg, spent the season with + us.” + + “This was the highest point of our friendship with this gifted soul; + for she came to us daily in the morning, telling us stories out of her + full life, or interchanging ideas with us whereby we could fully + estimate the depth and purity of her feelings, the greatness of her + mind. Often in the midst of our conversation, she jumped up and sat + down at the piano, and her singing at that time was more full of soul, + if possible, than at other times. + + “What a powerful effect the following little episode had on us! My + youngest daughter, Mary, then scarcely three years old, was on my arm + while I stood beside the piano. The child listened attentively to the + heavenly song, then suddenly she threw her arms round my neck and + burst into tears! ‘That is my greatest triumph!’ cried Jenny Lind, + greatly moved. + + “Oh! those happy hours, spent with her, flew but too quickly by, but + the remembrance of them lives to this day, unchanged, in my heart. + + “In the afternoon, when we took our walk on the shore, Jenny Lind + sometimes accompanied the King on horseback. She rode very well; and + took great pleasure in these excursions. She also seemed much pleased + when we visited her, and her dear old friend, in their pretty + fishing-cottage. She frequently came to supper, after which we + generally had some music; and I even had the delight of singing duets + with her, of which I was not a little proud. + + “For our sake, Jenny Lind remained in Norderney till the end of our + stay there, and then returned with us to Hanover. On the steamer that + took us all to Bremen, she was in such ecstasy at the beauty of the + North Sea, that she began to sing Taubert’s song ‘Vöglein, was singst + im Walde,’ and when she came to the line, ‘Ich muss nun einmal + singen,’ her voice sounded clear as a bell over the noise of the + waves. We were all completely electrified by the overpowering + impression, and the tears ran down from my dear husband’s eyes. In + Hanover, our two fellow-travellers rested some hours under our roof, + and when the sad hour for parting struck, our hearts were quite heavy. + + “The next time we met was in Düsseldorf, at the great musical festival + of the Rhine, when the _Elijah_ was performed under the conductorship + of her amiable and talented husband in 1863. It was in this _Elijah_ + that we heard for the last time the voice of our dear Northern + Nightingale. The magnificent scene between the widow and Elijah, which + she sang with Stockhausen, was one of the most powerful and + heart-stirring performances we ever heard: and the excellent + conducting of Mr. Goldschmidt contributed greatly to the perfection of + the whole performance.” + +The Queen records how the friendship, thus begun, lasted on through the +troubles which fell on the Throne of Hanover in 1866, to their final +meeting in London in 1876. + +Such was the depth, and warmth, of that intimacy which sprang up during +those winter months in 1850, when the Hôtel du Nord in Lübeck was the +centre of so much quiet activity. It illustrates the character of the +attraction she exercised over people of high cultivation. They were +drawn towards a personality which broke through her song, even as it +mingled with it; and which spoke to them of that which would, when the +music had died away, abide as an enduring basis of friendship to which +they would turn in time of spiritual need. + +But we must return to Lübeck, and pick up the thread of our story again. +She sang on February 9th at Hanover for the poor; at Oldenberg on the +12th and at Bremen on the 20th; again at Hanover, for charity, on the +25th; and at Brunswick on the 27th, where she received two illuminated +addresses. So she passed to Berlin. + +By the opening of March, she found herself ensconced in the house which +was so dear to her, in the old room so crowded with earlier +associations, encompassed about with that home-warmth which she +cherished with all the powers of her soul. Everybody in the house was +taken to her heart, from her “father” at the top, to the servants, and +porters, whom she remembers in her letters. She sang on the 8th for +charity: and she seems to have been persuaded to throw in another +concert, for the same good purpose, on the 13th, postponing her concert +for Herr Hendrichs until the 18th, after a rapid journey to sing at +Dresden on the 15th. She was in excellent force at this moment. “My +voice is behaving well, thank God,” she wrote from Berlin on the 13th to +her guardian, Herr Munthe. “And what a joy it is to see the people so +satisfied! Always the houses are crowded. And what an amount I have got +together for the poor, by singing during these few weeks! Yes! Praise be +to God!” Such was her own simple account of what was happening. Let us +hear from others what they were thinking. In the _Deutsche Allgemeine +Zeitung_, at Leipzig, a notice appears of the Berlin concert of March +8th. The writer goes, that he may once again offer himself to the +wonderful magic of her voice and presence. He can tell of the crowd, of +the price of the tickets, of the excitement: but of her singing itself, +he will not speak a word. What could be said, has been said; and as to +the strange, overwhelming power of her tones, no words can ever avail to +portray it. Only so much will he say—that, far from the strain of time +having told upon it, it is fresher, and stronger than before. + +“And, then, the unspeakable charm of the rendering, the deep truth of +the expression, the wonderful grace of the nature so profoundly +harmonious and artistic—that is all unchanged!” The mastery with which +she sang the Italian pieces from the _Puritani_, and the _Turco in +Italia_, made him regret all the more that she does not sing “the German +music, which she loves; for in the rendering of this music, which +depends, above all, on feeling and inner spirit and taste, she is +unsurpassed.” She was altogether magical “in her singing of Meyerbeer’s +duet ‘La Grand’mère’—and the _pianos_ at its close could not possibly +have been rendered more gracefully and more exquisitely. But the crown +of the evening was her rendering of the songs—Schumann’s ‘An den +Sonnenschein’—Lindblad’s ‘Schlottfegerbub,’ and Taubert’s ‘Ich muss nun +einmal singen.’ Those who have once heard her sing these, can never +forget them!” + +Here is another delicate record of the impression she produced on a +cultivated hearer on the Berlin visit. It is a letter written by +Professor Jüngken, a famous physician attached to the Court of Berlin, +in answer to inquiries about her from her anxious friend, Professor von +Jäger, in Vienna. + + “For a month,” he writes, “the town was on the stretch for the arrival + of Jenny Lind. For a month had the Wichmanns engaged her her rooms; at + last, she appeared! We saw her first at a brilliant soirée at Count + Redern’s which all the royalties now in Berlin honoured with their + presence. The Lind, as soon as she caught sight of me, came across to + me, and her first question was ‘How are the Jägers? They have written + to me about you. Tell me a great deal about them!’ + + “Two days after this, we heard her at a concert. She is, certainly, a + marvellous apparition, with an attraction that is irresistible. Her + voice is very beautiful; her deliverance is noble; but her play of + expression!—that is positively bewitching. She will sing no more on + the stage; but, then, there lies in her eyes, in her mien, an + expressiveness which is equal to the most perfect acting. It is a + delight indeed to listen to her; but a still greater delight to _see_ + her sing. Her deliverance of her songs is, undoubtedly, unsurpassable, + and it is peculiarly her own. I have heard greater artists than the + Lind; and, for instance, the Rossi (Madame Sontag) stands on a grander + level of art. But I have never heard but one Lind, nor any artist who + knew better how to fascinate. + + “A day before her departure, Madame Wichmann was good enough to ask us + to tea alone with the Lind, where we delighted ourselves for a couple + of hours with her in the highest possible degree, and learnt to know + what a really charming and dear child she is. I had to tell her + everything about your family, your fortunes, your affairs, she would + know it all.” + +Nor did Herr Rellstab fail to offer his tribute. Indeed, he proudly +welcomes the wonderful singer back from her European fame to the scene +of those first triumphs, which he had himself so enthusiastically +saluted. Berliners cannot forget, he writes, in the _Berlin Zeitung_ on +the 10th of March, that the first tones of that world-famous voice, +which now rings, like a bell, wide over land and sea, were heard, by +those outside her native home, at Berlin on that day in December, 1844, +when she sang to us her ‘Norma.’ She returns now as to a genuine home—to +be greeted as a daughter whom they had seen, with joy and pride, go +abroad to try her worth in the world, and who now comes back to them, +decorated with every gift of fame and honour—a yet more perfect artist +and woman than before. He then goes on to tell how her very first notes +recalled him to the unique peculiarities of her gifts. + + “The sorrowful _andante_[156] in the aria from the _Puritani_ gave her + an opportunity of revealing that utterly magical sweetness of her + voice, that pathos in its ring, that smoothness in its phrasing, that + dying-away and vanishing of the _pianissimo_, which the supreme artist + delivered with the most absolute precision.” + + He notices how half at least of the spiritual effect of her singing is + lost, if she is not seen as well as heard. + + “For it is her peculiar charm, in which no other artist can touch her, + that the expression of the melody seems to play around her very life, + to breathe itself over her features, to stream forth through her + eyes....” + + “The singer’s voice has gained in power, her execution in certainty; + yet, perhaps, the strain and effort were a little more marked than + they used to be, in the high notes, and at passages of the strongest + colouring, where, of old, it was so perfect that one never used to + notice that the difficulties were difficult at all. One hardly can say + whether it be a habit that has crept in, or the custom of singing in + very large spaces, or the different taste of a different public, + needing stronger material, that has drawn the artist to just exceed, + here and there, that fine line, which, for us, marks the limit of the + purest beauty, and which she, formerly, clung to with such absolute + and unerring self-command.” + +She sang Meyerbeer’s duet ‘La Grand’mère’ with our old friend Fräulein +Tuczec, and here “she gave us,” says Herr Rellstab, “the most +fascinating and innocent and playful grandchild on whom a grandmother +has ever looked down and smiled.” + +In the Rossini aria, brilliant as was the execution, he missed the +spiritual and tender qualities, which are found to perfection in her +singing of the ‘Lied,’ in which she seems to create the music, and to +reveal herself as a poetess in musical expression. Each song is given a +living colour of its own. + +In one of these she made us feel as if a “maiden was talking to +children—to children such as we all would wish to be for ever.” + +In the national ballad, which she sang on her recall, “it was,” says +Herr Rellstab, “as if she were once more greeting her own home with her +mother tongue—so full of heart-blessings were her tones; and everything +seemed bathed in the fresh flood of pure mountain air.” + +Our Berlin critic has lost, as we see, nothing of his old enthusiasm. +And he follows her, song by song, through the second and third concerts, +with a devotion that knows no bounds. He proclaims her absolute +supremacy now as a concert-singer, no less than before as a dramatic +artist. And it is now, in this context, that he, again and again, calls +attention to her creative dramatic intensity, by which she spreads about +her song the colour and atmosphere of the scene which it embodies, +lending to this purpose her whole frame, so that features and motions +and look and expression all combine with the music to convey a single +and overwhelming impression. In this, it is remarkable how he repeats +the very words of Professor Jüngken, in conveying that which so struck +them both. + +He tells us how, in giving Weber’s song from _Oberon_, ‘Ocean du +Ungeheuer,’ with orchestral accompaniment, “she managed to bring before +us the whole majestic scenery of Nature with its terrors and its +charms,” so that no one could tell whether it is eye or ear which was +most captivated. “Both look and tone can never be forgotten, with which +she wove a woeful image round about the words ‘Wo die Fluth ein Leben +raubt.’” + +On the 20th of March, he wrote in the same journal a criticism of her +concert on behalf of Herr Hendrichs. + +After brief thanks to the other performers whom he cannot stop to praise +in presence of the one overwhelming impression, he goes on to assert +that, of all the three evenings, the great singer reached, in this last, +her highest level. In the aria from Mozart’s _Figaro_ (the last air of +“Susanna”)[157] she filled the music with the sense of moonlight, and +the stillness of the garden, and the scent of flowers. The soft depth +which she put into the words “notturna face”—the light play of the +hovering breath, made one say “This is not Susanna who waits for Figaro— +it is Juliet who looks for Romeo!” so powerfully did the artist’s ideal +work upon the real, to draw from it a beauty beyond its own. + +Her second piece was a little spring ballad—sung for the first time by +her—“Song of the Bird and the Maiden.”[158] + +And she followed this with Mendelssohn’s _Suleika_. + + “That Eastern wonder-dream, with its violets that peep, its stars that + twinkle, its roses that yield their perfumes, its holy river with its + rushing stream—was it all real? And he who could forget the + ‘Forget-me-not!’ must be one who, in the poet’s words, ‘Can never be + remembered in life or death.’” + +After “the roses, and violets,” of the German she gave an Italian aria, +which was full of sunlight and sparkle, as it ran laughing from her +lips. And then yet once again the critic cannot but ask himself what it +is, beyond all the marvellous technical skill, which breathes through +every form, and gives light to every colour, in this supreme singing? +And, once again, he is compelled to give the old answer, “The simple +truth can express itself quite simply; it is the purity of soul which +speaks through all the artistic form.” It is for this he gives her +thanks with all the thousands who share his feelings. And with this he +wishes her God-speed to that far land to which she goes across the +ocean—and a happy return once more to this her home. + +She was off on the 20th to Hamburg, bent on a purpose, of which the +record has been supplied to us by one who was deeply interested in its +success. Madame Clara Schumann has kindly written down, out of her diary +kept at the time, the following account of what occurred. The picture +given by her of Jenny Lind’s swift and vivid appearance on the scene, +from entry to exit, is warm with affection, and coloured with the +reality of life. The words bubble up out of a thankful heart, with all +the quickened insight of a free delight; they can best be left to tell +their own tale in their own native freshness and unaided force. + + “March, 1850. Hamburg. + + “Wednesday, the 20th.—I was just lying down a little after dinner and + reading in a letter about Jenny Lind’s appearance in Dresden, when she + herself came in, having only just arrived from Berlin. I was very + pleased and so was Robert, who, however, had had a sort of + presentiment of her coming all day. She was most amiable and said she + had come from Berlin so quickly, as she wished to sing at my concert + in Hamburg; she was not a little astonished to hear that it was over, + for Robert had written to her that we were going to leave on the 23rd, + from which she concluded that the concert would take place on the + 22nd. She immediately offered to sing at my concert in Altona,[159] + which was fixed for to-morrow, a proposal I of course most gladly + accepted. I felt inclined to smother her with delight and gratitude. + + “On _Thursday, the 21st_, Lind called on us for a small vocal + rehearsal, but which turned out something more, for she sang a good + many of Robert’s songs, and how she sang them, with such truth, with + such deep feeling and simplicity, how she sang at _first sight_ + ‘Marienwürmchen,’ ‘Frühlingsglaube,’ from an album unknown to her,— + that is a thing never to be forgotten! What a grand, heaven-inspired + being she is, what a pure, true artist’s soul, how all she says + refreshes one, how she always hits upon the right thing and expresses + it in few words! in short, never perhaps have I loved and reverenced a + woman as I do her. These songs will for ever sound in my heart, and + were it not wrong, I should say that I don’t wish to hear these songs + sung by any one else but herself. I need scarcely mention that Robert + is equally charmed with her; for a composer it is a special delight to + hear his songs rendered as coming from the depths of his own heart. + She left, and each time she left, I stayed behind in a state of + intense excitement, her notes and words continuously quivering in my + soul. + + “The Soirée in Altona on the evening of the 21st was splendid. Rarely, + I should think, you would find so much combined as to-day,—a crowded + hall, tremendous enthusiastic cheering, the exquisite singing, my own + performance not so bad, Robert’s beautiful second trio with Boie and + Kupfer,—in short, nothing was wanting to make it all perfection. How + she sang, how the ‘Rheinisches Volkslied,’ by Mendelssohn, how the + ‘Sonnenschein,’ by Robert, no—that cannot be described! Robert said to + her: ‘That really makes the sun shine on one’s back;’ such freshness, + such childlike innocence and simplicity; one must hear that again and + again,—and the audience indeed insisted on an encore. And how she sang + ‘Der Himmel hat eine Thräne geweint,’ with such intelligent rendering, + putting her very soul into it! + + “It cannot be expressed in words what a heavenly impression is made by + such rendering of such songs! + + “Otten called on us, and urged us to give another matinée at Hamburg + to-morrow, and to persuade Lind to sing. But much as I might wish it, + I should nevertheless not like to do it for my own benefit. I proposed + her giving concerts at which I would play, or our giving a matinée + together for the poor; but she disapproved of all this, and said, she + would only sing if I were to give a matinée for myself, and she would + then leave for Lübeck in the afternoon, instead of in the morning. She + pressed me hard and I accepted, for who could have resisted so + tempting an offer? Evidently she wished also to obtain a pecuniary + advantage for us, for later on she expressed her great satisfaction on + hearing that the matinée would be very well attended. She also + insisted on high prices, but that I did not approve of, and she at + last gave in. + + “Towards evening dear Jenny came to us, and we again had a vocal + rehearsal, which as before turned out something grander. She sang the + ‘Nussbaum,’ ‘Widmung,’ ‘Frühlingsnacht,’ ‘Stille Liebe,’ and a good + many others besides, also from Robert’s opera _Genoveva_ in the last + act. + + “I should have preferred a thousand times spending the whole evening + with her in this way to having to go to a party. Jenny Lind was also + invited, but she wished to devote her last evening to her hosts + (Madame Brunton and Frl. Seminoff); altogether she does not like going + into society, it is even difficult to get at her at home, and quite + _impossible_ for the curious. + + “She takes the greatest care of her voice; she does not dance, and + drinks neither wine, nor tea, nor coffee. She is in every way an + ethereal being! She was most attentive to me in other things besides + singing so very kindly at two of my concerts, staying on here on + purpose for them, &c.; so, for instance, she never suffered me to go + to her for a rehearsal,—further, she always fetched us to the concert, + and so on! On the other hand, what pretensions are made by inferior + songstresses!” + + “Saturday, 23rd. + + “Matinée. Exceedingly full, great cheering. Jenny Lind had seated + herself behind the lid of the piano, whereupon a general commotion + ensued, for few only could see her and yet every one wished to see + her. She again sang most exquisitely,—Mozart’s aria from _Figaro_ with + enchanting simplicity (Frl. W. might have learnt respect for the + composer from her)—besides songs by Mendelssohn, four songs by Robert, + winding up again with the ‘Sonnenschein’ twice over. To-day she gave a + proof of how she takes in everything that she sings, by singing the + latter part of the ‘Frühlingsnacht’ by heart, the leaves having got + into confusion in being turned over. All Robert’s songs she sang in + the manner which I had pictured to myself as ideal, but in which I had + never dreamed to hear them sung. She does not pass by any delicate + point, which others overlook completely; in the same way it is a real + pleasure to watch her, when others are performing, for nothing escapes + her, not even the softest, most subtle harmonic change. + + “After the matinée Jenny Lind would on no account allow us to take her + home, but said good-bye to us at our house, and the parting pained me + very much indeed. Robert has a warm admirer in her! She whispered to + me one day: ‘What a genius your husband is, how much I reverence him!’ + How pleased she always was on noticing that she had sung his songs to + his satisfaction! But let this suffice, for words are but a poor + reproduction of the feelings.” + +Nothing can be more engaging than this picture of her. These days were, +indeed, singularly happy. She was in the full tide of her power. She +moved from triumph to triumph. She was free from all the harassing +turmoil and distracting emotions of the stage. She had left behind and +shaken off the agitation and distresses of the heart, with which the +last year had been so clouded. She was at her own disposal: she could +come and go as she chose. She saw her way ahead along a road that teemed +with promises. She was ever close to affectionate friends: and new +intimacies were springing up all round her. Her great gift was there, to +use for the ends to which she loved to dedicate it: she had but to lift +her voice, and the poor on whom her pity alighted, were relieved with +boons, or her fellow-artists, whom she admired and reverenced, were +released from their anxieties. Wherever she went, she carried blessing +with her. And life was young in her: and spirits were high: and she +revelled in the liberty of movement that was now so easy, and so +possible. There is a sense of springing vivacity left upon us by the +memorials of this time. We can feel it in the rapidity of her musical +insight which so struck the great pianist: and in the irresistible zeal +with which she throws herself into the congenial task of doing her best +for her friends. And, yet, how noticeable, in this record of Madame +Schumann, is the touch of domesticity which she noticed in Jenny Lind! +Still, with all this gaiety, she held herself aloof: she suspected and +disliked “Society”; she reserved to herself a private corner, which it +was almost impossible to penetrate, where she hedged herself in against +all but the chosen few; and even they had to approach it with care and +caution. This was eminently characteristic. Her enthusiasm for +Schumann’s genius, which had begun under the guidance of Mendelssohn in +1846, who had first shown her the beauty of his Lieder, seems to have +let her, instinctively, inside his music: and even Madame Schumann was +surprised at the speed with which she took possession of his songs, and +at the delicate security of her interpretation of his mind. “Ah! who was +it that made that sun shine?” she rejoined when the composer said that +her singing made him feel it warm on his back. She felt her whole being +move under his sensitive hand; and she knew all the vibrations of his +sentiment. At the very close of her life, while she lay on her death-bed +at Malvern, in weakness and misery, once as her daughter opened the +shutters and let in a ray of morning sun, she just let her lips shape +the first bars of the old song she loved, ‘An den Sonnenschein.’ They +were the last notes that she ever sang on earth. + +Everything conspired to be good at this particular time. From Sweden +came a grateful acknowledgment of a kindness which she had been able to +do on behalf of Lund University, where an effort to establish a large +institute for the “Academic Union,” had come to a block for lack of +funds. The building was for the use and pleasure of the youth of the +university: and the cause touched her; and, with the sanction of Herr +Munthe, she had lent them 10,000 crowns to save the scheme. A thankful +recognition of this act was drawn up and signed, on March 14th, by the +representatives of all the “Academic Nations” of Lund. “That the +building can now be continued without interruption,” it declared; “and +that it will be ready, in all probability, for the Oscar Day this year +(Dec. 1), the Academic Union have to thank principally a name which is +full of good omen wherever it is heard in the whole civilised world, but +nowhere has it such a musical sound as in the ears of the young men of +Sweden.” + +This pleasant piece of gratitude would have greeted her probably at +Lübeck, whither she got back about the 26th of March to find Mdlle. +Åhmansson much better than when she left her. “My little dog, too,” so +she writes to Madame Wichmann, “was so affectionate to me; and jumped up +at once on to my lap, and lay there as quiet as possible!... Just think, +dearest,” she goes on, “that I sang twice in Altona and Hamburg! The +Wieck-Schumanns were there, and they were too delightful, and too +remarkable, and too gifted not to kindle love and admiration. And I +count it a special honour to have been allowed to sing a couple of +little songs at their concerts.” + +A bracelet had come, it appears, through the Lord Chamberlain, from +Berlin as a tribute for her singing. “The thing is pretty, and +artistic;” she goes on in the same letter: “and it cannot but be a great +pleasure that their Majesties should have personally chosen the gift. +But my singing has ever received such appreciation, and reward, that it +was a kind of recreation to be allowed just once to sing freely on an +occasion like that.—But kings, and queens, and such like, must always +put a high value on their pleasures!” + +The happy time at Lübeck is running rapidly out: and she is close on the +date fixed for her return to Sweden. She writes yet once again, in her +own English, to Baroness French in return for letters received from her +on February 6th:— + + “How kind, how very kind of you not to forget me! I remember so well + how pleased I was when I first had the honour of meeting you (in the + carriage, when we were going off to Manchester), and how I felt sure + that it would be very easy to love you, and your dear, dear daughter! + + “I am, thank God, much better than before I left England; I feel only + very seldom that bad headache; and what deliverance I cannot tell! Our + doctor here has so perfectly understood my whole constitution that he + has made me a different person in that respect that my head is + restored!! We are now waiting for the Swedish boat to take us to + Sweden ... in about fourteen days. I intend to remain in my dear + country till about the end of June; and then, we are going to + Schlangenbad and Ems; and from thence to London (for a few days only) + for Liverpool. And _there_ is the great point! From Liverpool we will + be saying farewell to Europe for one or two years.... I will keep you + in a very constant memory.... A kiss on dear Miss Georgina’s forehead + from her friend Jenny; and for you, dear Madam, the expression of my + sincere love, and deep attachment. + + “Your devoted + “JENNY.” + + “Lübeck, April 10th, 1850. + +One other letter, full of her innermost heart, she wrote to Augusta von +Jäger, the Professor’s daughter, of whom she was very fond, and who had +sent her a water-colour picture of Meran, where such happy days had been +spent with the Wichmanns. + +The letter will show how deeply she was moved, at this time, by an +evangelical piety, which had stirred her during her last English visit, +and which woke in her a vivid sense of human sin, and of the peace to be +found in God’s forgiveness. She was full of eager desire to speak to +others of the peace which she had found for herself; and her affection +for Augusta von Jäger prompts her zeal, as a messenger to her soul. + + “MY OWN DEAREST GUSTI, + + “Whenever I hear anything of you, and of Vienna, my whole heart goes + out to it; and I feel how deep and fast my soul clings to you! + + “I call it friendship indeed, my dear Gusti, that you should, in spite + of my long long silence, still prove true in thought of me, and not + only in thought, but had also made for me so precious a remembrance. + You cannot think what joy I have taken in it. Would that I could speak + my thanks in words! At any rate, believe most assuredly, that I not + only have ‘a little tiny bit of love’ for you, but that it must ever + have a profound part in my own life-story, without my even troubling + myself to bring this about; for were I never to hear from you again, + or were I never to let you hear of me—still it would remain through + fair or foul, through life and death. And I believe, and hope that you + think so of me—do you not?... How glad I shall be to get to Vienna, + and spend some evenings with you! Ah! much, very much, must one live + through, before one learns to fasten on the Life, the Higher Life. + Much—very much—should I like to tell, in quiet, to you, my dearest + friends—you and your mother—that I might share it with you! My life is + so full, so beautiful, so wonderful, so great, that I often feel a + lively desire to share all its memories with those whom I love! I have + for long had the most eager wish to earn, somewhere, a great deal of + money, so as to endow a school for poor lost children in my own + country. And the invitation to America came as a direct answer; so + that I go there in this confidence; and I pray God in Heaven, out of a + full heart, that He will guide me thither, as ever before, with His + gentle hand; and will graciously forgive me my sins, and my + infirmities. I shall have much to encounter; it is a very big + undertaking. But since I have no less an aim before me than to help in + widening God’s kingdom, the littlenesses of life vanish in face of + this! + + “My dearest Gusti, my Bible was never more necessary to me than now— + never more truly my stay! I drink therein rest, self-knowledge, hope, + faith, love, carefulness, and the fear of God; so that I look at life + and the world in quite another fashion to what I did before. Would + that all men could come to this knowledge, and that we all daily + feasted on this Divine Book; and would that my own Gusti would take + all her trouble to this Book! Then first should we all know how to + taste the true life!” + +She tells her of her plans, and closes thus:— + + “You see how little peace they let me enjoy. But I am very, very + happy! There is nothing I want; and everything goes well with me. My + voice is better than ever. I have long left the stage; and I firmly + believe that this decision has brought my soul happiness and peace. + And now, farewell, my own sister! Heaven send you its blessing; may my + image bring you always courage and joy, for indeed I mean you well! + Let me, sometimes, have a word or two from you; and count ever on my + true attachment, and on my unchanging love. For life, + + “Your sister, + “JENNY.” + +Already, she had intended to have been at home; but the Baltic ice still +delayed the steamers, so that it is May before she is off. She gave +three concerts before leaving the town in which she had found herself so +entirely at home—one on the 6th of April, for the poor of Lübeck, +another on the 20th for the widow of the orchestral director, Bach, and +yet another on the 26th for the pianist Schreinzer. On the 7th of May, +she wrote a very affectionate letter to her great friend, Madame +Schwabe. She is to sail on the morrow. She apologises much for not +having written before, and tells of herself, and all her plans. “I am +much better than ever before; my head is incomparably better, and my +whole being is in good order.” She has greatly enjoyed singing to the +Germans, who are so wonderfully alive to the touch of music. She is +impatient to see America, and the Falls of Niagara, and the Atlantic +Ocean. Alas! she will not get any stay in her beloved England for a long +time! She asks for her friend’s prayers. Young Mr. Goldschmidt has been +over from Hamburg, and has played in a concert, and tasted a little +spring air, and heard the nightingales. And so good-bye! + +It is a bright, hopeful letter, during a time of special cheerfulness +and ease. She had thoroughly enjoyed it. Her health was renewed, her +voice was at its finest, her spirits were high, her soul was at peace. +High and low, rich and poor, artists and public—all were at her feet. +She had carried out her dearest aims with unhindered liberty. She +revelled in her new-found freedom. So home, with a glad heart—home yet +once again, for a triumphal passage over the familiar scene, before she +launched out on to the great ocean, to the far land, where a wholly new +life awaited her into which she passes out of our sight, beyond the +range set us in this record of her artistic career. + + + + + CHAPTER IV. + HOME ONCE MORE. + + +She reached Stockholm on the 12th of May, in our old friend “The +Gauthiod,” and was welcomed home by an immense crowd, who had assembled +on the quay to greet her. She was to sing at six concerts in the Royal +Theatre, on the 24th, 28th, and 31st of May, and the 3rd, 5th, and 7th +of June; and, besides these, there were to be two State Concerts during +June in honour of the wedding of the Crown Prince. The tickets for the +concerts were put up for auction, but all the profits went to the Royal +Theatre.[160] It was, we remember, on its behalf, that the King had +invited her to return and sing. On the concerts themselves, the _Daily +Allehanda_, her old friend, wrote that it was enough to say that—“she +was the same as ever.” + + “Though Mdlle. Lind may not appear again in any _rôle_ on the stage + itself, yet it is only the costume which we miss; for if you will only + go and see and hear her sing, in the _Puritani_, or as the woodland + child in _Vielka_, or as the passionately sorrowing Donna Anna, or, + again, as Jenny Lind herself, impulsive, naïve, and charming, pouring + out her wonderful music in Taubert’s little Lied—then come back and + say whether you have ever heard such dramatic singing, or seen a more + living representation in look, manner or expression of each several + character whose mind and feelings the artist proposed to paint in + song.” + +Fröken von Stedingk was faithful as ever, in welcoming her back, and +warmly defended her resolution to leave the boards. + + “In the spring,” she writes in her diary, “I met Jenny Lind again. + Many were blaming her, just then, for the decision she had taken, and + which had, no doubt, been painful to her—the decision to quit the + stage. I could not possibly disapprove it, knowing as I did the + convictions on which it was based, however much I might, personally, + be the loser. She now sang only in concerts. Thus she closed her + theatrical career at the very height of her triumph; she deliberately + renounced the admiration which everywhere followed her, and this in + consequence of a resolution which in my eyes, makes her more worthy of + honour than ever. + + “Many suppose this resolution to be the result of Pietism. Jenny Lind + is as God-fearing as she is pure, but had Pietism been the cause, she + would not herself have gone to the play, which she declared that she + liked to do, to see others act. No! but she had felt how physically + and morally wearing was the work in the service of dramatic art, so + that, for instance, for several days after a performance of _Norma_, + her nerves would be so shattered that she would be unfit for other + useful mental occupation.” + +Fröken von Stedingk attended the Queen Dowager’s _soirée musicale_ in +the spring, and she tells us how, when Jenny Lind was taking leave of +the Queen Dowager, “Her Majesty asked her to choose for herself one of +some magnificent bracelets set before her. But she, with tears in her +eyes, begged to be allowed the favour of having sung once before the +Queen, without any more reward than the tiny bunch of forget-me-nots +which were in a vase on the table. The Queen then gave her the simple +flowers, which seemed to make her happier than diamonds; and this little +incident, which I witnessed, well illustrates Jenny Lind’s way of +feeling.” + +Nor was it only the Court which desired to do her special honour at this +parting. + +In the course of June, she received a tribute which embodied, in a +distinct and remarkable manner, the profound feeling with which the +entire body of her people were touched, by the splendour of her +generosity. A medal had been struck in her honour, to which almost every +one of distinction in Sweden, from the King downwards, subscribed; the +committee of presentation included the names of the + + BARON DE GEER, + COUNT B. VON PLATEN, + G. ALBERT EHRENSWÄRD, + J. L. ASPELIN, + A. F. LINDBLAD, + J. A. FRÖST, + JULIE LÖFVENSKIÖLD, + ELIZABETH BERZELIUS, + F. VON DARDEL, + J. N. BORELIUS, + BARON BERNHARD VON BESKOW, + CHARLOTTE MURRAY. + +The Address with which the gift was presented is singularly graceful; +and it fitly closes the record of public tribute given in this book, in +that it recalls, yet once again, at the end of her artistic life in +Sweden, the tone and temper which we noticed in all the earliest records +of her appearance. + +A spiritual and moral force animating Art; a spiritual and moral service +for Art to render—these are the two poles of her Artistic belief: and it +is these which the following Address notes with felicity and fervour. + + “_To Jenny Lind._ + + “The lovers of music at Stockholm have, during the present spring, as + well as during the winter season of 1847–48, enjoyed a succession of + memorable feasts, at which they have admired alike the Artist’s + genius, and the nobility of heart wherewith she has dedicated her + triumphs exclusively to Charity and Benevolence, and has thereby + testified that the aim of true Art is something higher than to please, + and to astonish. + + “Having been privileged to witness these festivals of Art, where the + beauty of the soul found its expression through the medium of song, + the lovers and friends of music are desirous that the great artist, on + leaving her native country, should carry away with her some outward + token of this period of her life, of which the inner memory, which is + at all times the companion of virtue, will follow her through life, + until that other world is unveiled to her of which she has been the + messenger to us through the language of music. + + “The undersigned have received the agreeable charge of handing to her + this simple souvenir,” &c. + +The medal was struck both in gold and silver and bronze. On its face was +the bust of Jenny Lind, draped, with the left shoulder brought rather +forward. On the back was a design in which the figures of Charity and +Patriotism stand on either side of the Genius of Song, while a symbolic +figure of Gratitude, bearing a wreath of Immortelles, kneels at the foot +of the throne, and inscribes the date of the gift, made by Jenny Lind, +out of the profits of her last operatic season in Sweden—December 3, +1847, to April 12, 1848. Inside the laurel wreath that encircles this +design are given the names of the chief characters in which she sang,— +Norma, Lucia, Agatha, Amina, Susanna, Alice, Maria, Adina. Below the +group of figures runs the inscription: “In memory of the friends of +Lyric Art in Stockholm.” + +The gift was one which went home to her heart. She recognized in it her +own people’s appreciation of her career—their warmth of affection, their +delight in her glory, their grateful sense of her loyalty to them. Those +three medals were zealously treasured by her to the very close of her +life, as a precious token of the bond of kinship which knit her so fast +to the land of her birth, and to her childhood’s home: and so fully did +she acknowledge the appeal made, in the design, to her patriotism that, +on her death, she left the medals to be committed to the National Museum +at Stockholm, where now they lie, a pledge of the unbroken bond to her +country, which no long years of separation had served to weaken or +annul. + +Before she left Stockholm she twice sang some Sacred music, on a Sunday, +at Evening Prayers; once on June 8th, in the Jakobs-kyrka, and, again, +later in the St. Clara Kyrka. + +In the London house, at Moreton Gardens, where her last years were +spent, there hangs a most graceful picture, in water-colours, of the +west gallery in St. Clara, as she stood to sing the solemn solo in the +_Elijah_, “Then shall the righteous shine forth as the sun.”[161] Her +upright figure, in its elevated pose, is beautifully caught, thrown out +against the floods of mellow light that pour in through the western +window. Something there was in her, at that moment, as in the church of +that very parish where her troubled infancy first felt the light, she +was delivering, with all her dedicated powers, to the praise and honour +of God, the message of radiant hope which awaited the righteous— +something there was, which arrested the artist’s eye, and interpreted to +him its significance. He left on the paper a record, which conveys, at a +glance, the rapt, upward look, so familiar to those who knew her; and he +spread about her the glow of a sunlight, which seemed a symbol of that +shining glory of which her voice rang out the promise. + +In that church she sang for the last time in Sweden under the +maiden-name which was hers by birth. The service was on June the 25th, +and on the 27th day of the month she started from Stockholm on her great +venture. + + + + + CHAPTER V. + DEPARTURE. + + +She left her country with a happy sense of the goodwill that was +faithfully following her career, as it opened out into paths that +carried her far afield. She had a few engagements to fulfil on her way +across Europe, before she joined her companions, Benedict and Belletti, +who were awaiting her in London. + +She crossed quickly through England, only sleeping a couple of nights in +London, and reaching Crumpsall, near Manchester, the home of her +faithful friends the Schwabes, in time to rest a few days before +fulfilling her engagements at Liverpool on the 16th and 19th of August. +Both Mr. and Mrs. Schwabe accompanied her; and she had, therefore, the +comfort of affectionate intimacy to help her through the racket and +distress of the final start. + +The two concerts were to raise money towards paying for the new hall of +the Liverpool Philharmonic Society in which they were given. The first +of these, on the 16th, was noticeable only for “causing an excitement,” +according to the _Times_ of August 19th, “to which the musical annals of +Liverpool can find no parallel.” “The enthusiasm went far beyond +fever-height.” She sang her famous pieces, ‘_Qui la Voce_;’ ‘_Und ob die +Wolke_,’ from the _Freischütz_; ‘_Non paventar_,’ from the _Flauto +Magico_; a Duet from the _Turco in Italia_, with Belletti; and, then +(after a new Song by Benedict, called ‘Take this Lute’), the Norwegian +Echo Song, accompanying herself. + +So far she was on old ground; but, at the second concert, a very +different and a vital departure was made. It was her first singing of +the _Messiah_, in which, in later years, she proved herself +incomparable. + +The excitement of expectation was intense. On August 19th, the _Times_ +critic[162] reports that as he writes his despatch, on Saturday 17th, + + “The rehearsal for the _Messiah_ is now proceeding at the Philharmonic + Hall, the precincts of which are besieged by a mob anxious to obtain a + glimpse of Jenny Lind. The greatest curiosity prevails about this + performance; for Mdlle. Lind has never sung in an Oratorio of Handel’s + since her arrival in this country. Monday night will show whether she + will achieve the same success in the _Messiah_ as in the _Creation_, + and the _Elijah_.” + +As to the rehearsal, he records with warm commendation that, + + “Mdlle. Lind was, as usual, the first to arrive, the last to depart, + and the most attentive to her own music, and to the indications of the + conductor. If every one were as painstaking and zealous at rehearsals + as Mdlle. Jenny Lind, the critic would have much less to complain of.” + +On the 20th, the critic telegraphs the result for the _Times_ of August +21st. + + “Jenny Lind’s singing surpassed anticipation. Her energy, and + brilliant execution of ‘Rejoice greatly’; her expression in ‘He shall + feed His flock’; her tenderness in ‘How beautiful are the feet’; her + fervid devotion in ‘I know that my Redeemer liveth’; and her fine + rendering of the last air, ‘If God be for us,’ which made it a new and + unexpected feature, raised unbounded enthusiasm. In the Recitatives, + besides the excellence of her vocalisation, the pointed, articulate + manner in which she pronounced the English words, excited general + admiration.” + +After praising Belletti, and the chorus, and criticising the band, he +tells how, at the close, the National Anthem was sung, + + “Jenny Lind giving the two principal verses. The scene that ensued + defies description. The walls of the building reverberated with + cheers. Hats, sticks, handkerchiefs were waved in every direction. The + platform of the orchestra was covered with bouquets and wreaths, many + of which fell upon the head and the shoulders of the songstress. It + was a leave-taking such as even Jenny Lind has rarely experienced.” + +In the _Times_ of the 22nd, Mr. Davison contributes a detailed criticism +of her delivery of the numbers in _Messiah_. He has much to say, which +comes with the authority of a most skilful and experienced judgment. + + “Mdlle. Lind’s performance, in the _Messiah_, has,” he considers, + “enhanced, if possible, her reputation. ‘Rejoice greatly’ is a + veritable _Bravura_, not a mere senseless display of roulades and + _fioriture_, but a gush of melody in which the exultant feeling of the + text is expressed with a power that springs from inspiration. The + elaborate divisions of the Song demand the greatest flexibility, while + its peculiar vocal character can only be expressed by a voice at once + strong and brilliant, combined with a free command of the upper notes. + These physical requisites are among the peculiar gifts of Mdlle. Jenny + Lind, whose well-known intelligence and reverence for the text enabled + her to employ them with the finest effect.” + + “The air ‘He shall feed His flock’ requires a simplicity which derives + effect from the innate and unobtrusive beauty of the music. This + divine melody fell from her lips like soft water from a spring. The + reading of the words was perfect; and the shake at the end,—the + legitimate and only ornament introduced—was executed with a finished + neatness and a command over the _sotto voce_ which afforded the + fullest satisfaction to the ear.” + +Again, + + “‘For now is Christ risen’ had in it something of positive + inspiration. The termination—strictly according to the text without + even a concluding shake—was far more effective than all the singer’s + art could have made it, exercised without that feeling of veneration + which teaches that to touch such music is to spoil it.” + +In conclusion, he considers that— + + “The depth and sublimity of the music exhibited Mdlle. Lind’s talents + in a totally new light.” + +So triumphant was the first historical opening on the field with which +she so intimately identified herself in later years. It was a wonderful +passage from the atmosphere of the _Figlia_ to that of the _Messiah_; +but the English knew, now, at what level her supreme gifts lay; and they +welcomed her on to the ground of their famous Oratorio with a heartiness +of recognition which she cordially recognised. It was to the English +that she specially loved to sing the music of the Oratorio. + +Her last day at Liverpool was taken up with visits to view the new wing +of the Southern and Toxteth Hospital, due to her last year’s singing; +and with receiving there a silver tea-kettle and a pair of silver +candlesticks. + +[Illustration: + + _Mademoiselle Lind from a photograph by Kilburn Aug^t. 1850._ +] + +On the evening before sailing, her Swedish heart was at work; she could +not let herself go on this new and strange experiment without desiring +the sanction and the blessing of the “old folk at home.” Back to father +and mother her thoughts were travelling; she must feel herself covered +by their authority; she must let her last words be to them. So, on the +evening before the start, she sat down and wrote the following letter, +with its buoyant hope, with its tender daughterly humility. + +The daguerreotype, to which she refers, is the one from which the +picture on the opposite page is taken. It was engraved in the +_Illustrated London News_ of the day: but the present picture is taken +fresh from the old plate, which has, by diligent search, been recovered, +and used. + + “Liverpool, 20th Aug., 1850. + + “MY DEAR PARENTS, + + “May these lines find you in the enjoyment of good health. I have been + very well since I left Sweden, and am now starting for the New World. + For we leave to-morrow morning at half-past ten. + + “I have been eight days in England, and have sung here in two + concerts, both of which have been most successful, and the English + public has greeted me as if I belonged to them. I am met everywhere + with heartiness and love. Oh, may I succeed in deserving them more and + more! + + “I have been to see the steamer which will take us over to America, + and nothing grander of its kind, I should think, could be found in any + country. The vessel is 300 feet by 80, and is decorated so + magnificently that one can fancy oneself in a rich private house. + + “I look forward to the sea—the ocean! + + “When I have got across, I shall let you hear again. As my mother + wished to have a Daguerreotype of my poor features, I have sat for one + in London. I hope it will have succeeded. Farewell, good mamma and + papa! Think of me with friendliness, and give me now and then your + blessing, for a parents’ blessing is something good to travel with. + Let me hear occasionally how you are at Pommern.[163] Remember to look + into the books which I gave you, while stopping with you there—and may + the Lord Himself enlighten and bless you! Thus prays most sincerely + + “Your attached “DAUGHTER.” + +There is a quaint touch of parental authority in the last sentence of +the letter, which blends curiously with the beautiful and childlike +simplicity with which she asks for the parents’ blessing on her +going-forth. The whole letter is a delightful foil to the following +account of the wild popular excitement that was fermenting, at this +moment, round the girl who was herself engaged in writing those plain, +quiet, humble messages, so full of domestic affection and simple piety, +to the two wondering parents in the old country. + + + _Jenny Lind’s Departure for America._[164] + + “Liverpool, Wednesday night. + + “Jenny Lind is gone—gone amid a scene of triumph which was not more a + tribute to her own surpassing work and talent, than to the art which + it is her honour to profess and to which she does so much honour. Ere + these few hasty lines are before the reader, this incomparable + songstress will have performed one-fourth of her voyage to the United + States, where, we are assured, a reception awaits her which will cast + in the shade even the splendid ovation which has just attended her + departure from among her European admirers. + + “Fresh as I am from this magnificent display of public feeling and + sympathy, I can scarcely enter into details. With ears still deafened + with the booming of cannon, and the shouts of the thousands who were + assembled on either side of the Mersey, and eyes dazzled by the gay + effect of innumerable craft, which were illumined by the sunlight as + they ran to and fro on the river, or followed in the wake of the + _Atlantic_, I can scarcely give you a sober description of this + extraordinary scene. + + “The authorities foresaw there would be a great demonstration, and + took their precautions accordingly. Fancy what must be the interest + excited by Jenny Lind, when the police thought it necessary to notify + to Mr. Barnum’s agent, that if the lady took her departure from the + quay at the hour generally expected, they could not ensure the safety + of life and limb. We doubt much whether any sovereign was compelled to + change the programme of his movements for such a reason. Yet so it + was; and much hurrying to and fro was there in consequence. Instead of + leaving at nine or ten o’clock, as had been arranged, Jenny Lind was + obliged to slip out privately at a quarter to eight, and go down all + manner of back streets to be able to get to the pier unperceived. In + this she was successful; and while the intending sightseers were + disposing of their muffins and coffee, the little woman whom they were + all going out to see had quietly gone on board the _Atlantic_ in a + river steamer; but not until after she had been annoyed (during a few + minutes’ stay on the pier) by a crowd of idlers who pressed round her + in the most rude manner, and could scarcely be kept off by the police. + + “When at last the hundred and fifty passengers who had engaged all the + berths were received on board, with all their luggage, and had taken + leave of all their friends, and when the sound of a gun booming across + the water from the bows of the steamer announced that all was ready + for departure, what was certainly a ‘great scene’ commenced. The + immense floating mass began to move, and, as if by magic, all the + craft that had been playing about on the surface of the river, formed + into lines, and made a sort of procession. As the _Atlantic_ steamed + up from her moorings, past the Albert Docks, she turned her head + inshore, in the direction of the town, and slowly passed in front of + the magnificent line of quays, amidst the enthusiastic shouts of + thousands of human beings who lined the shore, not merely on the + Liverpool side, but also all along the Cheshire coast, from Birkenhead + onwards to the mouth of the great arm of the sea. Salutes were fired + from the shore, and were returned from the _Atlantic_; and the whole + scene,—such an army of craft of all sorts and kinds floating, with + pennants flying—such a shouting—such a roaring of cannon—such a bright + sunlight (which broke out suddenly, as if to afford presage of fair + weather)—was really one of the most extraordinary sights we ever + witnessed. Every eye was strained to get a sight of Jenny Lind. There + the little woman stood on the paddle-box, with her arm in that of + Captain West, and waving her handkerchief enthusiastically in return + for the greeting of the crowds who had assembled to witness her + departure.” + +Such was her farewell, as she passed from the Old World to the New, +travelling out over the unknown waters, to discover whether Music had +power to draw towards her the hearts of these immense populations in +far-away cities, with the same security with which it had knit to her +the affections of all those to whom her voice had spoken, in the land +that lay about her home. So she sails, wafted out, for her adventure, on +the wings of all the favouring hopes with which it was possible for that +Old World to send her forward. Those ringing cheers, those crowded +boats, those fluttering handkerchiefs, those straining eyes, which +followed her out of Liverpool, spoke to her of all the wonderful days in +Europe that lay behind her—days that had never once failed to bring her +their unceasing tribute of praise and welcome and love, as often as she +invoked them, ever since she first babbled out her earliest speeches as +a little child on the boards of the Stockholm Theatre. + +And this unfailing triumph had never limited itself to a mere +admiration. Always it had been an admiration that was transfigured, by +its own inward force, into genuine affection. Always it had felt the +power of her personality; and had understood her deeper motives, and her +serious intention. She had never been wholly misunderstood in her desire +that, by her Art, she should touch the finer issues of the religious +consciousness, and enlarge the resources of a human charity. + +All this was behind her, to forward and cheer her, as she tempted the +new Atlantic seas. Nor did the promise of high fortune belie itself. The +pledge was redeemed in a measure that ran over and over. It is not our +present part to follow her in this adventure, nor to tell the familiar +tale of the boundless enthusiasm that awaited her every step from the +moment that she touched American shores. Our special part ends at this +point, where the old European career, in its special sense, closes. Up +till now, her Dramatic and Artistic life had developed, step by step and +stage by stage, in an orderly sequence of gradations. She has now +touched the final level on which her future career is to move; there is +no new fashion it is to take. The platform of the concert-room is the +ultimate spot of vantage from which she is to reach the world of men. It +is needless to expand a record which would merely repeat in detail the +same typical success. We have seen enough already to prove that, in her +abandonment of the stage, she had not surrendered her chance of +delivering her Artistic message. On the contrary, though her marvellous +histrionic gift was put aside, she found a freedom of scope, a glad +outlet, for her singing, which rather increased than diminished the +exercise of her sway. The fervour that accompanied her concert-singing +was in no degree less than that which, of old, had besieged the doors of +the theatres. The opportunities which it offered her for beneficence +were, at least, as magnificent as before. Moreover, in the Oratorio, she +more and more found the most congenial and adequate of all the fields in +which she could exercise the full force of her powers, and attain the +noblest realisation of her ideal. + +We send her out, then, on her American visit, with no sense that her +career, in touching its final level, has less triumph in store for her +than any of the steps which led to it. We shall leave her to go ever +forward, still encouraged, from New York to Savannah, with the same +passion of devotion, the same thrill of a unique experience, which she +had evoked already in Stockholm and Berlin, in Vienna and London. + +But, though we do not follow her steps farther, we cannot part with her +without recording a message or two which she herself sends back, as from +the new land, to those who watch after her in the old countries. And the +messages are to those who have been our companions through this book; +and we shall be glad to feel that they receive good news from her, and +that they and she are still undivided, though the Atlantic rolls +between. + +And as her last letter, at the moment of leaving Europe, had been +written to her parents, so let the first that we quote from America be +due to the same filial loyalty. It gives her simple enjoyment and wonder +at the great voyage. + + “Boston, 27th September, 1850. + + “MY DEAR PARENTS, + + “It does seem strange to be so far from home, so far from Europe! I + trust these lines find you in perfectly good health. I take for + granted that you have been informed long ago of my safe arrival at New + York, 1st September. + + “The voyage was in every respect extremely interesting. True, eleven + days on the sea is a good deal, but the sight of the ocean, under all + its various aspects, was oh! so grand!—the rising and setting of the + sun, moonlight, the new stars, the rainbows, the phosphorus, porpoises + and seals, storm, fog, and then again a surface calm as a mirror. All + these changes we could watch in turn. We had a magnificent boat, and a + particularly clever, attentive, and charming Captain. I was not ill in + the least, but kept wonderfully well all the time. I went on deck to + have a look at the storm; it was splendid! We lay deep sunk in the + trough of the waves, the colossal ship floating like a tiny eggshell + on the immeasurable expanse of the waters. The ship’s guns were flung + hither and thither, ropes as thick as my waist came sweeping in piles + across the deck, the waves, as high as big houses, of the most + intensely beautiful light green, dashing towards the bridge with such + violence as to overthrow and injure three sailors and one of the + officers. After the storm, which lasted twenty-four hours, it turned + fine, and then we had all kinds of glorious sights. + + “I sat up, quite on the very edge of the prow, close to the old man + blowing his horn (the ‘old man,’ I must add, was of wood!), with a few + friends and the Captain, who made it their business to take care of + me, and I really felt elated by the superb spectacle before me. + + “We gave a concert (on the ocean!) for the crew, and once or twice we + had a merry bit of dancing; and in this way time flew by quickly + enough. + + “New York, as to its situation, reminds me very much of Stockholm. + + “I was met with quite an astonishing reception. I have already given + six concerts there, in a hall with room for 11,000 people; it has been + crowded each time, and we shall most likely be able to give about + forty to fifty concerts in New York alone. + + “Here everything is done on a large scale. The first ticket sold the + day before yesterday in this city for to-day’s concert (the first one + given here) was sold for as much as——625 _dollars_! The tickets, you + must know, were sold by auction. It is amazing what heaps of money + they seem to have here. + + “My health is, as usual, thank God, in excellent condition; my voice + is fresh and strong, and I am looking forward extremely to some plan— + after this ‘_tournée_’ is over—for enjoying peace and rest; for, + indeed, in these two matters, so precious to us, human beings, I seem + to be given but a very small share, torn and bothered as I am from + morning to night. Still, it is touching to see such goodwill and + kindness; people seem not to know how to do enough to show their + favour and the genuine interest they take in me. + + “I wish I could send home to Pommern some of the lovely flowers and + the splendid fruit which are continually sent to me. The peaches are + delicious, and grow here in great abundance. We have still warm + weather, and ever a divinely blue sky. + + “_October 1st_—Time does pass! I shall now soon be thirty years of + age! How happy I am to become an ‘ould hag’! Every day I see round me + numbers of new faces,—so many, in fact, that I find it a bore—but I am + going to try and terminate my engagement as quickly as possible— + _perhaps_ in a year! When we meet I shall have heaps to tell you, + which now I have no time to relate. It is already more than three + months since I was taking part in the country dances round the maypole + at Pommern. It does seem so strange! + + “I wish I could soon hear that you both are well. Now, pray do take + care of yourselves, so that still many a green spring and many a + chirping bird may gladden your soul! Rest assured that all I have said + or written has been done with the truest and best intentions; and pray + remember with tenderness your far-distant + + “DAUGHTER.” + +That letter will, certainly, bring relief, and joy to the little house +at Pommern, where she had so lately “danced round the maypole.” She, +like her own favourite skylark, is ever— + + “True to the kindred points of heaven, and home.” + +The next of the letters repeats how freely and cheerfully things are +going. It is written from Boston, on October 2nd, 1850, to her Guardian, +Herr Munthe. + + “I have given eight concerts, and hitherto the success has been + unparalleled. I devoted the first two in New York to charities, + because they had raised such enormous prices (by auction)—that I + considered this to be a plain duty. My agreement with Mr. Barnum has + been quite altered; and Mr. Barnum has shown, and is still showing + himself, extremely generous, and reasonable; and seems to have made it + his first object to see me satisfied. I understand that we rarely make + less than $10,000 at a concert. Hitherto the receipts have varied + between $12,000, $14,000, $16,000! And thus my share for six concerts + is about $30,000!” + +Good news, this, for the kindly old judge at home! His warm heart would +kindle over the triumphant success, even though he foresaw a big job +ahead for his prudence and his wits, when it came to the dispensing of +these vast sums in accordance with the scruples and the anxieties of her +beneficence. + +On November 8th she wrote again from Boston to her Guardian a letter +full of her characteristic temper. + + “It is indeed a great joy, and a gift from God, to be allowed to earn + so much money and afterwards to help one’s fellow-men with it. This is + the highest joy I wish for in this life; everything else has + disappeared from the many-coloured course of my path on earth. Few + know, though, what a beautiful and quiet inner life I am living. Few + suspect how unutterably little the world and its splendour have been + able to turn my mind giddy. Herrings and potatoes—a clean + wooden-chair, and a wooden-spoon to eat milk-soup with—that would make + me skip like a child, for joy! And this—without the slightest trace of + exaggeration, or that sort of thing. + + “Benedict and Belletti are kind and pleasant. Benedict and I play nice + little duets on the piano, and the time goes quickly and happily. + + “The bird-song, ‘I know not why I am singing,’ and Herr Berg’s song + with the long-sustained notes, and the Norwegian echo-song—these are + the standing pieces which I must sing at every concert.” + +This speaks straight from her heart. It holds in it her deepest motives— +motives, strong from the first, but which have gained in strength as she +developed. Her original sense that her singing was God-given has been +intensified by the more positive religious influences which had flowed +in upon her through her English Evangelical friends, and expresses +itself, now, in the desire for inner peace in the quiet recesses of the +soul: while the hope of beneficent service to her fellow-men has become +absorbing. Still, with all the growth, there is no change whatever in +the “Jenny” who would “skip for joy over the herring and the potatoes, +and the clean wooden-spoon” That declaration is instinct with her very +breath. She never lost, either the spontaneous simplicity of plain +living, or the buoyant gleefulness of the dancing child. + +And, now, to part with her best friends with whom we have seen her spend +such happy days, and to whom she pours out her fondest affections—the +Wichmanns. They are not forgotten in the novel whirl of American +affairs. + + “My dearly beloved Amalia,” she writes from Philadelphia on December + 5th, 1850, to Madame Wichmann, “I feel so great a desire to write you + some lines that I cannot keep silence any longer. I long to know how + you all fare; and would like, too, to tell you something about myself; + for I know well how great an interest you take in my fate. I will no + longer restrain myself; for I find my thoughts all flying to you with + such love and confidence that I feel grateful and happy in the mere + act of communing in spirit with you. And, surely you have not + forgotten me! + + “What are they doing in Germany? I am in great anxiety over the + situation there. Will there really be war? Where will you go in that + case? For God’s sake, write me a line about that. + + “If all goes ill in Europe you might come to America, and fetch me + away. How is Otto?[165] Is he stronger? I was so glad to see him in + Baden; and fancied that in him I saw you all. + + “... I and all of us are extremely well. My head is quite + re-established: and my voice is better than ever. The climate here is + very good. Nearly the whole autumn we have had a clear blue sky, such + as we had at Meran, when it was at its best.... + + “Mr. Barnum behaves extremely well towards me: and I could not wish + for anything better. + + “In the month of July we hope to be back in Europe, for we hope to see + the Great Exhibition. Ah! if _you_ were to come there! You, Amalia, + have never been in London; how interesting it would be to see it! + Think it over, dearly beloved Frau! + + “If you see Taubert, tell him, please, that they will not listen here + to anything but his song ‘I must be singing.’ Since I got a very nice + translation of it in English, I have to sing it at every concert. + Greetings to all my friends—Herr Taubert—Professor Werder—Magnus— + Madame Mendelssohn, etc. + + “I wept for joy the other day, when the Prussian Envoy, Herr von + Gerolt, brought us greetings from Her Majesty the Queen of Prussia. + When next you meet His Excellency Herr von Redern, pray tell him how + truly grateful I feel for this mark of Her Majesty’s sympathy. Greet + him at the same time. + + “Faithful love to you all! + “From yours ever gratefully, + “JENNY.” + +So we leave this sweet and delightful friendship which played so deep a +part in her early years of European success. It has remained her +constant support throughout—a harbour, in which she never failed to find +refuge and peace. + +One thread out of her old life, which we have already tracked into the +new, is alas! soon to be slit. It is a thread woven deep indeed into the +tissue of her memory and her soul. The long and curious story of her +mother which we have followed through so many incidents, ends at last +during the American trip with the news of Fru Lind’s death. What a +strange and unanticipated change had come over the scenes of poor Fru +Lind’s life since, pinched and driven by the hard days, unsuccoured and +unsustained, she had been forced to put out her new-born child with the +Parish Clerk of Ed-Sollentuna, and turn from her hurried sickness and +nursing to fight her way alone against a baffling world! “That child +will bring you help! mark my word,” the old grandmother had said to her: +but she little knew the full and wonderful sense in which those words +would prove themselves true. Now, in 1851, lifted out of all anxiety by +that child’s help, transplanted into a kindly and peaceful home which +the child had given her, in company with the husband whom, in spite of +all his weakness in those earlier times when she had to struggle on +alone, she loved with an affection that he warmly returned, she could +sit and rest among the quiet country-sights, and could sweeten her +sourer humours, and could soften her asperities, and could come to +kinder terms with the human earth about her, as she caught all the +echoes of that praise with which the wide world outside was welcoming +that child of hers, once so forlorn, of whom, with all her tough +bitterness of disposition, she had always been so proud; and could hear +of the uncounted wealth which was being poured in upon her, in measures +that must have made her breathless as she listened to their tale. No +fairy godmother could have worked a more marvellous transformation; and +yet all had been done by the earnest, intelligent, devoted steadiness, +the “incredibly hard work,” of that tiny scrap of a child who once sat +in the porter’s window at the Widows’ Home, and sang away to her cat +“with the blue ribbon round its neck”; and who, now, knew not how to +escape from the thousands who thronged to hear her in lands beyond the +sea where her name was already familiar and dear as a household word. +She, by God’s grace, had done it: and now at the end of all, she is the +very same “Jenny” who trotted off by her mother’s side to the +Opera-House, to try their fortune with old Croelius. Still she loves to +think of the “milk-soup and the wooden-spoon” that belonged to the old +simple days of childhood; and her heart drew closer to her mother, now +that the Atlantic rolled between them, than it ever could in the earlier +days when the roughness of the surface-life harshened the home, and +forbade those springs of gentleness to flow between a mother and +daughter whom so much held estranged. Certainly, it was with a bitter +pang that Jenny Lind heard, in December 1851, of her mother’s death. +Some words which she wrote about it in 1852 tell how “everything had +become smooth and nice” between them; how her mother had become so much +quieter and more reasonable; how she had hoped to “surround her old age +with joy, and peace and tender care.” “Now it is too late! Peace be with +her soul.” + +Too late, perhaps, for all that she yet planned to do; but not too late +to have done much to secure that “peace” to her declining days, which +was the gift most sorely needed by that disturbed and harassed heart. + +Perhaps, now that she has herself taken leave of her friends, we may +give one last picture of her, as she was seen in the thick of her +American work, by the sympathetic eyes of Mr. Parker Willis, an American +author, whose reminiscences of ‘Famous Persons, and Famous Places’ were +published in 1856. + +He has most graphically described a typical day’s work in New York, with +its mingled glow and grind. + + “It was the morning after her last concert (in New York), and among + the business to be attended to, in the winding up of a visit to a city + where she had already given away $30,000 in charity, was the result + certified in the following report:— + + “The undersigned, a committee named by Miss Lind to divide the + appropriation of the sum of $5,373·20 cents, the proceeds of a + morning concert, have distributed the said funds as follows:— + + New York, Nov. 26, 1850. + C. S. Woodhule. B. Raird. R. B. Mintum. Wm. H. Aspinwall. John + Jay. + $ + To the Society for Improving the Condition of the Poor 1000 + Widows with poor children 300 + Roman Catholic Orphan Asylum 300 + Female Assistance Society 300 + Eastern Dispensary 250 + Northern Dispensary 250 + Eye and Ear Infirmary 250 + Hebrew Benevolent Society 200 + Prison Association 200 + Destitute children of seamen 200 + Homeless and destitute boys 100 + Swedes and Norwegians in New York 273·20 + Swedish Bibles and Testaments 200 + Brooklyn Orphan Asylum 250 + The poor of Williamsburg 100 + The poor of Newark 100 + The poor of Jersey City 100 + Temperance societies 500 + St. George’s Society 500 + ——————— + 5373·20 + ——————— + + “There was also another matter which formed an item in the ‘squaring + up’ of the New York accounts on that day. A paragraph had reached her + making mention of a Swedish sailor who had perished in endeavouring to + save the lives of passengers on the wreck of a vessel. Jenny Lind had + sent to the Swedish Consul to make enquiries whether he had left a + family. His widow and children were found by the Consul,[166] and + Jenny had sent him $500 for their use. This was mentioned by M. + Habicht to a lady, who mentioned it to us, and by this chance alone it + became public. + + “But while all these sufferers were receiving her bounty, and she was + settling with banks and managers for the payments—what else was her + life made up of on that day? + + “It was now half-past nine in the morning, and three servants of the + hotel and two of her own had been ordered to guard her room till she + could eat her breakfast. But well-dressed ladies cannot be stopped by + men-servants: and her drawing-room was already half full of visitors + on particular business who had crowded past insisting on entrance.” + +He goes on to describe vividly the “lady-beggars,” to whom she hurriedly +offered $20 or $30, as the shortest way to be rid of them; and how this +is rejected with indignant protests. “We did not expect this pittance +from _you_!” “Excuse me, I came for a donation, not for alms!” etc., +etc. Then there are the “applicants for musical employment; passionate +female admirers; a dozen ladies with albums; some who had worked things +for her; one who had come indignantly to ask why a note containing a +poem had not been answered.” + +So the audience would go on; and Mr. Willis cannot wonder, that in the +evening, when he goes to a party at a lovely villa ten miles from town +to meet her, he should find her looking fatigued. But she received him +with a merry inquiry as to where he came from, in reference to some +spirit-séance, to which he had lately taken her. He told her in answer +that they had been inquiring of a spirit whether Jenny Lind had any +talent which she would have developed but for the chance possession of a +remarkable voice? and if so, what was it? + + “‘And the spirit said, it was working frocks for poor little children, + I suppose,’ was her immediate anticipation of the reply, uttered with + an expression of arch earnestness which confirmed us in the opinion we + have gradually formed, that a love of the comic and the joyous is the + leading quality in her temperament. + + “During the time that we remained near her, there were constant + introductions. And in these she bandies no compliments. If a remark is + made which has no rebound in it, she drops it with a monosyllable, and + without ever gracing its downfall with an insincere smile. She affects + no interest which she does not feel; and puts an abrupt end to a + conversation which could only be sustained by mutual pretence of + something to say; she differs suddenly and uncompromisingly when her + sense of truth prompts her to do so; and repels, instead of even + listening silently to, complimentary speeches. At all times, she is + particularly honest and simple.” + +He describes how he took leave of her:— + + “She had withdrawn from the crowd, and was sitting in one of the deep + alcoves of the saloon; one of the trellised windows, which looked out + upon the park, formed a background to her figure. She sat in a posture + of careless and graceful repose, with her head bent on one side, her + eyes drooped, and her hands crossed before her, in the characteristic + habit which has been seized by the painters who have drawn her. There + was an expression of dismissed care replaced by a kind of childlike + and innocent sadness, which struck us as inexpressibly sweet, and + which we mentally treasured as another of those phases of expressive + beauty of which that strong face is capable. And as we looked on her, + there suddenly appeared through the window behind, half concealed by + her shoulder, the golden edge of the just-risen moon. It crept to her + cheek before she had changed the attitude in which she indolently + listened to her friend as he talked; and for a moment the tableau was + complete. It was so startling, and yet so apt and so consistent, that, + for an instant, it confused one’s thoughts.... But the taking of a + step forward disturbed it, ... and we could only then call her + attention to the bright orb lifting behind her. The moment after she + had said ‘Good-night,’ and was gone.” + +That shall be our last vision of her. For we, too, must be saying +Good-night, and be going. + + + + + LAST WORDS. + + +This Memoir of Jenny Lind has touched its appointed close, now that she +has finally and for ever shaken herself free from that theatrical career +into which she had been thrown from her very infancy, and within which +she had developed and matured all her artistic capacities. We have seen +how she had deliberately and spontaneously cast it all away behind her, +at the very moment when her wonderful histrionic powers were at the very +height of their fulfilment. We know that she did this in obedience to +the rooted convictions of her innermost self—convictions which had grown +up within her secret will until they had become an imperious call on her +spirit which no resistance or plea from without could break down, and no +alluring fame or promise of wealth could beguile. She had done it in +spite of all the world could do to prevent it. And now that it was done, +she has found, as we have seen, that the path of Art is open as ever to +her. She still can exercise her allotted mission to mankind; still can +appeal to men through her marvellous gift of song; still can wake to +finest issues all the nobility and purity and joy that lie asleep in +human souls until the kiss of music breaks their sealing slumber. + +Such would be, for years to come, her public career, full as ever of +magnificent opportunities triumphantly used. And, just in order to +verify our words to the minds and imaginations of our readers, we will +venture to give a rapid glance, before closing this volume, down the +long line of musical events which marked the life that now lay ahead of +her. But, first, we must recall one domestic fact of primary importance. +The life ahead, however artistically continuous with the life which had +preceded it, was now carried on under vitally changed conditions; for on +the 5th February, 1852, at the house of Mr. S. Grey Ward in Boston, she +was married, by Bishop Wainwright of New York, to Mr. Otto Goldschmidt. +We remember the beginnings of their intimacy: how they had met again and +again at Lübeck and Hamburg; how they were drawn together by the common +memory of Mendelssohn; how close were their musical sympathies. So it +was, that when it appeared probable that Julius Benedict would part +company with her in the midst of the American tour, communications began +to pass between her and Mr. Goldschmidt’s family, without his knowledge, +pressing the expediency of his coming out to take up the part of pianist +as soon as it was vacant. He was then still young, but she had an +enthusiastic admiration of his talent, and especially delighted in his +sympathetic power as an accompanist—a gift on which she set the highest +value. “Whether he accompanies me,” she wrote to Judge Munthe in +October, 1851, “or I accompany myself, it is absolutely the same thing.” + +The venture was made, and with entire success. He arrived at the end of +May, 1851, and brought to her, in the thick of the loud and racketting +distractions, the touch of that serious Art which they had both learned +to revere in the great master gone from them. He helped her to fight +through the noisy turmoil that beset her. The intimacy quickly deepened, +and in him she learned that she could find “all”—so she wrote—“that her +heart ever yearned after and loved.” The letters that she sent home +immediately after the marriage, on the 16th of February, to his parents +and to her dear friend, Mrs. Stanley, who had known her so well in her +old trouble, prove how profoundly her whole being, in all its deepest +motives and aspirations, had gone out into this happy union. And we know +a little, from our record of her career, all that it would mean to her. +It meant that the old life of the wandering musician, carrying wares +from east to west, with its homelessness, its isolation, its insecurity, +was all to end. We know too, how she had hated the condition of the +unattached and unsteady wandering—the lodging with its forlorn +emptiness, the inn with its naked publicity. The friendships, formed by +the way, warm and intense as they had been, could but be as passing +gleams, as broken suggestions of that reposeful home for which her +spirit pined. And now the release had come; she was lifted clean out of +the tumult and the loneliness; she was received into the warmth of +endearing affection, and into the happy honour of wifehood. + +And this promise of good things with which this marriage opened to her +was never to fail her. For the remaining thirty-five years of her life, +whatever troubles they might bring with them to her, as to all, she was +never to miss the sense of this sympathetic understanding, of this +secure loyalty, of this delicate trust, always there at her side. With +her rigorous idealism, with her artistic emotion, she could not be +herself without putting to full proof the strength of the tie that bound +them. And it bore every test with a quiet steadfastness which nothing +could seriously weaken or disturb. It was knit fast by entire community +of interests and tastes, as well as by the more intimate sympathies. +Both shared the same religious convictions; both enjoyed the same type +of work, of amusement, of society; both found their delight in the same +circle of friends; each had a heart-whole admiration for the other’s +gifts. Moreover, outward circumstances favoured their union from first +to last; and no loss, or damage, or misfortune, broke for a moment the +even tenor of their days. To those who had the privilege of intimacy +within their inner household for the last twenty or thirty years, it +seems difficult to imagine how any marriage could have brought to her +more steadiness or smoothness of tone and harmony and habit. + +With their marriage the American tour came to a close. They gave, +together, during May, 1852, three farewell concerts in New York, and +then, after lingering in England through June, for Mr. Goldschmidt to be +introduced to her old friends there, they crossed to Hamburg; and after +touring in Switzerland, etc. settled finally at Dresden in the autumn, +where they remained for the next five years. It was there that a son was +born to them in 1853, and a daughter in 1857. + +In 1858 they were finally drawn to England, and decided on establishing +their home there. After some years in Argyll Lodge, a villa looking out +on Wimbledon Common, where their third child was born, they bought some +ground and built a house, which was named Oak Lea, on the fringe of +Wimbledon Park, at a spot where, in her early London seasons, she used +to ride down with Mrs. Grote to picnic and listen to the nightingales. +In 1874, finding themselves too remote from the musical life of London, +they left Oak Lea and bought a house in Moreton Gardens, which was their +home until her death. + +Such, in briefest outline, was her married life; and even these few +lines are enough to reveal the contrast between its steady quietude and +fixity, and the old helter-skelter days of incessant disturbance. + +And now let us sketch, with a like brevity, the record of the main +musical engagements which occupied their married years, just to convince +ourselves how richly she continued to fulfil her artistic career. In all +the work here recorded she enjoyed the active co-operation, and often +the leadership, of her husband. + +She sang during the early half of 1854 in Dresden, Berlin, Leipzig, +Vienna, and Pesth. In 1855, after concerts in Hamburg and Bremen, she +made a most brilliant tour from March to May in Holland, singing at +Amsterdam, Rotterdam, Leyden, Utrecht, the Hague, Haarlem, Dortrecht, +and in Friesland. In the June of that year, she began her visits to the +Lower Rhenish Festival at Düsseldorf, which she repeated in 1863 and +1866. From December, 1855, to June, 1856, she made a round of England, +Scotland, and Wales, accompanied by a strong band of supporters—F. +Lablache, Weiss, Ernst, Sainton, Swift, and Piatti—and had a most +extraordinary success. + +It was in the midst of this tour, on March 11, that together they gave a +most famous concert in Exeter Hall, on behalf of the Nightingale Fund, +to which they paid in the whole of the receipts—£1,872. In recognition +of this, besides a special vote of thanks, they received as a memorial a +beautiful bust of the Queen, presented to them, at the Mansion House, by +the hand of the Lord Mayor. + +In December, 1855, they gave a musical evening at Windsor Castle before +the Queen; and both appeared at a royal performance in Buckingham Palace +in May, 1856. In the June of that year, under the leadership of +Sterndale Bennett, she introduced to England Schumann’s _Paradise and +the Peri_ at a concert of the Philharmonic Society in the Hanover Square +Rooms. + +In 1857–58, besides singing at Dresden, Prague, Breslau, Königsberg, +Danzig, and Posen, she made a momentous appearance in the _Messiah_, at +Halle, for the completion of the Handel monument. + +In 1859 she went round the chief Irish towns, assisted by Belletti and +Joachim; while in 1861–62 she sang in concerts and oratorios in England +and Scotland, with the assistance of Belletti, Sims Reeves, and Piatti; +besides giving three oratorios, for charitable purposes, at Exeter Hall +during the time of the International Exhibition. + +Besides these, _Elijah_, given on October 22nd, on behalf of “London +Over the Border,” and in special succour of a hard-pressed and +persecuted clergyman struggling with the misery of North Woolwich, +roused an immense enthusiasm. “What was written of this remarkable +exhibition,” says _The Times_ in its notice of the performance, “years +ago, might be re-written now without a syllable to withdraw, without an +epithet of admiration to change or modify.” + +In May and July of 1863 she took part in the historic revival of +Handel’s music to the _Allegro_ and the _Penseroso_ of Milton, and this +music she sang again in the autumn at Liverpool and Manchester. + +In the years that followed she would sing whenever a special occasion +arose. It might be in the _Messiah_ for the Clergy Fund Corporation in +January, 1865; or at Cannes at her one Concert on French soil in 1866, +for the Civic Hospital; or the Musical Festival at Hereford in 1867; or +in Mr. Goldschmidt’s _Ruth_ in 1869, in Hamburg and London; and again at +Düsseldorf and in London in 1870 and 1871. She took an intense interest +in this oratorio of her husband’s. In April, 1871, it is pleasant to see +her take part in one more concert with Madame Schumann at No. 14, Hyde +Park Gardens. In May, 1873, she sang in Northumberland House before it +was swept away by the new improvements; and after helping the Turkish +Refugee Fund in February, 1877, and singing on behalf of the Albert +Institute in a Royal Concert at Windsor in May, 1880, she made her last +public appearance at a concert given for the Railway Servants’ +Benevolent Fund at the Spa, Malvern Hills, on July 23rd, 1883. From 1876 +to 1883 her main musical interest lay in leading and training the +soprani of the Bach Choir; while from 1883 to 1886 she threw all her +energies into her work for the School of Singing, in the Royal College +of Music. + +Such was the after-life. And we part from her, then, in midcareer, in +the full confidence that all will be well with her, and that half her +triumph as an Artist is to come. + +Yes! The voice—the perfected use of the voice—will remain to enthral and +to exalt. But yet, we must confess that something is gone, which will +never be again—the freedom of the Actress to place at the disposal of +her voice all the resources of her imaginative passion. This is gone for +ever; and the question may still haunt us, Did she never regret the +decision taken? Those accumulated stores of experience gained from +childhood, exercised and trained by twenty years of work and of success— +was it nothing to her that these were thrown to the winds? Did not the +gift itself within her, so instinctive, so deep, stir at times and yearn +for an outlet? Did she never, in all the long years, feel for the warmth +and the inspiration of some heroic hour, when she had drawn men, +spell-bound, into the sway of the passion to which she alone could give +expression? Is it possible that any one should possess the power, and +not, at times, desire to use it? + +The answer is absolute. No traces of such a regret are recorded, even by +those most intimate with her, to have ever crossed her mind. Far from +falling under even the passing influence of such a regret at the step +once taken, she does not appear to have been even moved by the impulse +from within now and again just to liberate her pent-up skill. Not that +she recoiled from the Stage itself with any repugnance or moral +condemnation. On the contrary, she would often go to the play; and would +take an interest in this or that new actor or actress. She was, on these +occasions, a rather merciless critic; and she would be very severe on +any defect in technical training, or any stupidity of mannerism. All +this came from her genuine appreciation of dramatic Art: she still +recognised its high capabilities; she had not withdrawn her sympathies +from it. And yet it never crossed her imagination that she might herself +find joy in wielding the strange dominion again. She found a childlike +delight in private, sometimes, in letting loose her marvellous gift of +merry mimicry. Once, for instance, when quite alone with an intimate +Swedish friend, she began to revel in making her laugh with the most +whimsical imitations of the various celebrities of the Stage at that +day; and, after overflowing with brilliant fun over it, she exclaimed: +“You see, I have not lost my old art!” as if she was glad to feel it was +there. But, nevertheless, nothing seemed ever to suggest to her: “Would +you not love to exercise that art as of old?” + +Her fixed and unwavering sentiments are given in a very vivid letter, +written, years after, to the same Herr Forsberg, of the War Office, to +whom she wrote on the death of her mother.[167] His deep interest in the +theatre had led him to send her a poem called ‘Thalia’ in honour of the +drama, which might wake up old memories. She, in answer, tells him how +she came to see that all the tears shed on the stage were sham tears; +and how, unsatisfied by success, she opened her Bible and there came +upon these words (written on the margin of some text, by herself, as we +suppose) “my newly-found Lord, who first taught me to shed the genuine +tears.” Her new religious experiences seem to have made the emotions of +the Stage feel hollow, and superficial. + + She, then, recalls the physical agonies that it entailed, of which she + is vividly reminded by a scene of home-happiness. “Walter” (her son), + she writes, “is just at this moment rushing into the room dressed up + in my jacket of the ‘Figlia,’ in which he is acting coachman, and is + supremely happy: he has got a huge hat on, with a real cockade, and is + offering to take me for a drive in his carriage, which is made out of + chairs piled up on the table! I cannot refrain from comparing the + present purpose of the jacket, and the anguish I felt when it covered + my poor limbs. There is Walter, quite enchanted: and I was trembling + all over while I wore it!” + +This is, of course, an after-view which needs many qualifications; but +it embodies the permanent impression left on her memory—a memory of +bodily and mental misery. The Art was exercised at too heavy a cost. It +took too much out of her. + +In estimating the cost, we must remember her mode of acting. There is +one form of the dramatic gift which lies in the power of +self-abandonment, of absorption in a character foreign to the natural +self—in a character taken up, assumed, worn, penetrated, as a study, by +the intensity of the imagination. The actor leaves himself behind; and +only imagines what that other character would feel under given +circumstances. Such an actor keeps his own inner store of emotion +unused; when he acts, he is not himself, but another person. But Jenny +Lind has told us herself that she worked on the exactly opposite method. +She carried herself into her parts. She could not act any character +which she could not adopt for her own, or imagine herself to be. For the +time, she was it. This is what limited her range. This is what debarred +her from acting an evil character. She could not do it merely as a +scientific impersonation; she must picture herself as inside the part; +she must surrender herself to the sway of the evil passion to be +portrayed. + +Now, such a method would, no doubt, have overwhelming effect on happy +occasions; but it is terribly expensive. It draws on the private +resources; it exhausts the personal powers; it carries all the tumult +and pain of the Drama within the secret recesses of the self. Such a +process tears at the heart of life. It spends more than it can reclaim. + +No wonder, that, as she looked back, the prevailing thought was mainly +of the tortured nerves and exhausted vitality which such acting as this +involved. + +And not only did she escape from the torture of exhausted nerves: but +more than that. She evidently felt a positive gain in inner freedom. +Something there was in her deepest self, which sprang up into a +liberated life when once she found herself a musician only, and not an +actress as well. That is why she could never even feel as if she missed +any fulfilment of her full powers. + +And this element in her which found itself free was just that in her +which constituted the very core of her artistic gift. For in herself, as +in her art, she was a passionate Idealist. She had none of the realistic +instincts, which delight in burrowing inside the crust of facts and +incidents, ugly and repellent though they be, in order to drag out their +inner secret. Her native tendency was, not to dig beneath the coarse +rind, and pluck out its mystery, but to escape and soar away from all +that was common and gross; she was like her chosen emblem the skylark,— + + “That singing still doth soar, and soaring ever singeth.” + +Perplexities, shocks, obstacles,—these did not evoke in her a wish to +master them; rather they jarred against her conscience; they drove her +to indignant protest, and anxious inquiry. That was her temperament, and +therefore it was that she was not sure of herself in the stress of +action, in the thick of facts. She could not trust her own judgment. She +was greatly subject to changing impressions, and to inconsequent +influences. She lost her confidence. The field of active life was not +her true ground. She was an Idealist. Only when aloof from the shift of +bewildering Circumstance, did she rise to her full supremacy, and move +with perfect consistency, and absolute security of foot. + +She was an Idealist; that was her dominant self. And, therefore, it was, +that she felt herself free and self-possessed when she had, once and for +ever, cast out the theatrical interests which were dragging her in a +cross direction. The Stage compelled her to be in constant contact with +all the whirl, and noise, and jar of circumstance. It pinned her down to +all the pettiness, the dishonourable inferiorities, of a restless +conflict with a hard and unworthy environment. It imprisoned her within +those jangling conditions from which her instinctive idealism was ever +urging her to take wings and fly away. It could not go on. And, when +once the effort of escape was over, she could not but feel herself +rescued as from a prison. Her innermost being could put itself out, now, +in music, with as little jar or fret from external accidents as was +humanly possible. She could pass straight on to the concert platform +from her inner musings, and could there deliver herself of her full +message, just as it burned within her to give it, with nothing to +consider except how to set it free in that form which her own inward +judgment commended to her. + +Music, then, gave to her idealism uninterrupted scope, while the +accidental and external conditions of the Drama were incessantly +traversing it; and it was, therefore, the musician that gained, at the +cost of abandoning the actress. But yet further; behind the idealist lay +the woman, with certain deep-root instincts which only won their freedom +through the surrender of the Stage. Of these instincts we have spoken +already. They were, first, the domestic instinct, with its intense +desire for the stability of home. And, secondly, the religious instinct, +with its yearning for inward peace. These emotions had no easy way in +her, at the very best. The artist in her was very strong; she had all +the ebbs and flows of impulse, the rapid susceptibility to changing +influences, the shifts of temper, the sweeps of emotion, which make the +artistic nature so perilous, and so difficult to control. She had to get +all this in hand; she had to set herself to master all that aggravates +the morbid humours of irritable nerves. It was all she could do so to +manage that these deeper desires for stable peace could get forward +towards their fulfilment. They needed every succour that external life +could supply. And how then would they ever survive, so long as the +impulsive and sensitive self was shaken and kindled by all the +turbulence of a dramatic career? How would they have a chance of winning +their footing, until she was released from that houseless wandering, +amid uncongenial strangers, which such a career involves? + +It was these twin instincts which suffered most obviously and most +acutely, from the disturbance inevitable to the Stage; and it was their +imperious pressure which impelled her to cut herself loose from that +which hindered their freedom. Two little stories illustrate how she felt +herself drawn to what she did. The first is domestic. In America, they +tell how, at the very height of that unparalleled triumph, with all that +great world ringing with her praise, she visited a young mother, and, +after kissing the tiny, rosy baby, according to some Swedish fashion, on +its ear and its heel, she turned to the mother and cried—“Ah, how I envy +you! you have something to live for!” There is the woman’s cry, breaking +through the artist. It must not be taken for more than it is worth. She +would often acknowledge the sufficiency of Art, hallowed to its highest +purpose; and would be alive to the danger that besets Art from the +domestic side. But, for all that, the voice spoke genuinely, out of her +very soul. The fuller her artistic passion, the deeper grew her longing +for a something at the background which should be, not the expression of +life, but life itself. + +And, then as to the religious motive. Once an English friend found her +sitting on the steps of a bathing-machine, on the sands, with a Lutheran +Bible open on her knee, and looking out into the glory of a sunset that +was shining over the waters. They talked, and the talk drew near to the +inevitable question, “Oh, Madame Goldschmidt, how was it that you ever +came to abandon the Stage, at the very height of your success?” “When, +every day,” was the quiet answer, “it made me think less of _this_” +(laying a finger on the Bible) “and nothing at all of _that_” (pointing +out to the sunset). “What else could I do?” The answer is obviously +dramatic; not literal. She is using the immediate situation, in which +she spoke, as a symbol of what she intended to convey. She is not giving +the actual motives which took her from the Stage; but she is +interpreting the inner experience, which, for her, justified the +original step, and which made it impossible to regret it. There, as she +sat on the beach, she saw one more confirmatory instance, before her +very eyes, of that secret which made her abandonment of the Stage so +intelligible, and so satisfactory. The Bible, and the Sunset! There is +what she always needed! There is what she wished at all cost to +preserve. Each of them is closed and barred, to all who cannot bring to +them a certain spiritual tone: and it was this tone which she found it +impossible to preserve amid the disquieting distractions of an actress’s +life. There is nothing morbid, or morose in this judgment of hers. She +is not bringing to bear upon the theatre any exaggerated temper of +religious puritanism. Even if, at the moment of the actual withdrawal, +she was possessed by influences which disturbed her normal conscience, +yet even then she repudiated, with hot indignation, any aspersion which +implied contempt for her profession. And her determination to withdraw +ran back far behind the time when that special form of religious +puritanism affected her: and it lasted on, with undiminished strength, +long after she had recovered, again, her more habitual judgment. No! It +was religion, if you will, that moved her; but it was the simple and +wholesome religion of a pious soul, who felt that she _must_ retain the +plain and primitive peace, which is the secret of all high and noble +living—that she must sacrifice all, rather than suffer the turmoil of +the world to blind her eyes to those mysterious visions that are thrown +open through the gates of a sunset, or are set stirring by the still +voices of the Bible. So she deliberately judged; and for that judgment +she alone could know fully the grounds; and she alone can bear the +responsibility. Only, let us be clear what that responsibility exactly +involved. It was not that she withdrew from man’s service the gifts +entrusted to her for his use: for she always felt that her best gift, +that of song, gained, rather than lost, by her sacrifice of the Stage. +She was not, then, sacrificing her proper mission for the sake of the +woman’s need of relief, and peace; rather she felt herself to be paying +the price that her full artistic mission to mankind asked of her. And +the whole of her after-life seemed to be to justify the decision taken. +She never saw any cause to doubt but that what God had asked of her, +that she had done. And, certainly, the choice she made did justify +itself by its spiritual results. By it she did retain the eyes which +could look out into the sunset, and the heart that could read the Bible. +By it she did keep herself, to the last, “unspotted by the world,” +untouched by meaner motives, untainted by the breath of jealousy, or by +the suspicion of earthly ambition. Nothing ever brought low that strange +nobility of mind which was her mark, and her possession. Nothing ever +clouded or discoloured that strain of haughty purity, which penetrated +her being. Always she was shut away from the fever and the fret, that +harries high spirits into disquietude, and vexes them with the miserable +sense that they have slipped down from their true estate. Faults she +had; blunders she made; we have not disguised or ignored them. But they +were the faults and blunders to which such a character as we have here +attributed to her, is liable. They were of the kind which belong, +naturally enough, to the high-strung intensity of her life. They came +from the misjudgments of genius; from the recoil of a noble and trustful +innocence; from the reaction of vehement aspirations; from the +disproportion to which artistic inspiration is so prone. Such failings +and infirmities are, themselves, the evidence of the strain laid upon +the will by the force of the ideal towards which it is set. Life, for +her, was difficult to manage rightly, and smoothly, just because she had +kept her spiritual temper unflawed and unbeguiled. Still, through all +her perplexities, and bewilderments, she never ceased to walk, with the +star of a divine mission clear above her head. She kept the heart and +the simplicity of a child. She had the same faith in God with which a +child looks for a father’s blessing, and trusts in the pardon of Jesus. + +So we have watched her pass unscathed from out of the rough and +dangerous obscurity in which her days began, through all the temptations +with which the most overmastering and bewildering success can encompass +and perplex the path of a world’s favourite—until we leave her, lifted +high above the perils that beset the lower way, secure of herself, +secure of a home, secure of spiritual peace. + +There are few careers which have a more fascinating tale to tell of +rapid and brilliant passage out of darkness into triumph, out of poverty +and harshness into a blaze of glory. But there is no career which can +leave a deeper impression of the entire supremacy, over all the world +can bring, of the spiritual motive. She is given everything; and yet all +is as nothing, if it does not leave her free to sit alone by the +sea-shore, and to look at the sunset, and at the old Lutheran Bible, +with the pure eyes that can see God. + +That was the verdict of Jenny Lind; and that verdict was the secret of +her peculiar power. Therefore it is, that she has left in men’s memories +the name of one who, rare and splendid as were her gifts, was yet, +herself, greater than her gifts—of one whose voice sang to them as no +other ever sung, because it came charged with some high message that “no +ear hath ever heard.” In all this, her life was a standing witness +against the fallacy that haunts the popular use of the phrase, “Art for +Art’s sake.” Nothing, indeed, could sunder, or weaken her loyalty to +Art. She was an artist of the artists. She was true, in her artistic +allegiance, to the very backbone; and would suffer no alien dominion +within the frontiers that Art might claim. But with her whole soul, she +disbelieved in any attempt to allot to Art a domain separate from the +integral and central self; and that integral and central self was +spiritual; and, if spiritual, then, of inward and inherent necessity, +moral. Art could never be isolated from this animating principle of +which it was the expression and the embodiment. It was, in itself, +however subtle and delicate its mechanical organisation, yet but a +lifeless body, unless it were filled, and penetrated, and transfigured +by the breath of this spiritual soul. Here, then, lay its spring of +strength. And it is Art itself, therefore, that demands of the artist +the sacrifice of all that hinders the purity of its central source. Yes! +the very treasures and gifts of Art might have to be surrendered in +order to preserve the life itself. The right eye might have to be +plucked out, the right hand cut off, rather than that the spiritual +faculty, which alone could use the hand and the eye, should be itself +ruined, or lost. That, we repeat, was Jenny Lind’s unswerving creed: +and, under the sanction of that creed, she counted the magnificence of +her dramatic triumphs as a very little thing, in comparison with the +duty of retaining her highest gift in its noblest exercise. + +We have spoken of this act of hers as of a renunciation, a sacrifice; +how else could we speak of it, when we recall the splendid fame that she +abandoned? And, yet, was there any one who ever bore upon her less sign +of effort or of struggle in her surrender? It hardly seemed to have cost +her a pang to let it go, so strong upon her was the motive-pressure of +the ideal for the sake of which she cast it all behind her. Indeed, she +was most strangely independent, not merely of fame, but even of that +free and public exercise of her gifts which many a high artistic soul +craves as its essential environment. Not only in the resignation of the +Stage, but in after years, also, when she had practically withdrawn from +public singing, she seemed to make her surrender with the same ease. She +had no instinctive hunger for opportunities of self-manifestation. There +was no restless desire to feel her old power at work. The musical ideal +was high, and serious as ever; but she could nurse it alone, or with the +few who knew. And the firmer the ideal, the more rooted grew her horror +of all the friction and the harshness of publicity. + +So she lived, without a passing shadow of regretful ambition, for +thirty-seven years after her great decision. At home in England, her +adopted land, she saw grow up, about her feet, her children,[168] and +her children’s children; and to the very last, she found her deepest joy +in the simplicities of children’s feasts, and in the sweet homeliness of +country-scenes. So she lived, quiet and aloof, in honourable dignity, in +freedom and in beneficence, unvexed by clamour, untraversed by intrigue. +The affections of friends she had ever about her, intimate and +reverential: and the repose of home; and the trustfulness of wedded +love. This was the background she vitally needed in order to secure +herself against the ruin of unrest, and to retain, in their integrity, +her native nobility of soul, her spiritual solemnity, her perfect purity +of tone. So she remained to the very end, original, separate, exalted; +leaving, when she died,[169] to all those who loved her, the impression +of something unique and incomparable,— + + ——“the memory of what has been + And never more will be.” + +Never more here, on earth! Never more will men listen enthralled by the +sound of that singing in which the very soul of poetry and holiness +seemed to have found for itself a living vehicle, a spiritual body. + +No! Never more here! But all the gifts that were in her, penetrated as +they were by spiritual significance, told of immortality. Such a +presence as hers, erect and prophetic, was itself a pledge that its life +cannot be spilt as water in the dust. It may be burdened, as she was, by +the perplexities that encompass it with darkness, but it cannot doubt +the secret which it holds in itself: it cannot doubt its own +unconquerable hope: it cannot doubt its own witness to the necessity of +an eternal home where that which here was but suggested will be +achieved—that which here did but begin shall be fulfilled. Of her, if of +any, is the poet’s word true— + + “Sorrow is hard to bear; and doubt is slow to clear; + Each sufferer says his say, his scheme of the weal and woe: + But God has a few of us whom He whispers in the ear; + The rest may reason and welcome: ’tis we musicians know!”[170] + +[Illustration: + + WYND’S POINT, MALVERN HILLS, MADAME GOLDSCHMIDT’S COUNTRY HOME, IN + WHICH SHE SPENT MUCH OF THE LAST YEARS OF HER LIFE, AND IN WHICH SHE + DIED IN NOVEMBER 1887. +] + + + + + INDEX. + + + A. + + Adelaide, Queen, 295 + + “_Ah! non credea mirarti_” (_La Sonnambula_), 278, 280; + Lablache on, 281 + + Åhmansson, Mdlle. Josephina, companion to J. Lind, 387; + illness of, 402, 403; + at Lübeck, 406, 410, 424 + + Aix-la-Chapelle, 219; + J. Lind at, 220, 224 + + Albert Institute, the, at Windsor, 452 + + _Allgemeine Zeitung, Deutsche_, extract from, 416 + + “_Am Aarensee_,” Lindblad’s song, 145 + + _An den Sonnenschein_ (Schumann), 416, 421; + her last notes on earth, 424 + + Andersen, Hans Christian, 103; + “Story of my Life,” 103, 104; + letter from J. Lind, 107, 108; + greets her at Copenhagen, 163; + on her genius and character, 163; + an amusing story by, 186; + J. Lind’s friendship, 188, 189 + + “_Annotation-Book_” of J. Lind, 228 + + Argyll Lodge, Wimbledon, 450 + + Arnemann, Consul, 168; + entertains J. Lind at Nienstädten, 225 + + Arnemann, Mme., 165; + at Berlin, 189 + + Arnim, Frau Bettina, 132 + + AT HOME ONCE MORE, 148 + + _Athenæum_ Newspaper, the, 230, 285 + + _Auf Flügeln des Gesanges_ (Mendelssohn’s), 221, 263 + + Augsburg, visit to, 246 + + Austria, the Empress of, 250; + Emperor, 254 + + + B. + + Bach Choir, the, 452 + + Balfe, Mr., Conductor at H.M.’s Theatre, 260, 280; + conductor on J. Lind’s first provincial tour, 301; + second tour, 339, 344 + + Barnum, Mr., in action, 405; + his proposals, 406; + generous conduct of, 407, 408, 441 + + Bates, Mr. (of Baring Brothers), 406 + + _Beatrice di Tenda_, Cadenza introduced into an Aria, 357 + + Beaumarchais, criticism on his libretto of _Le Nozze di Figaro_, 290 + + Beethoven, festival at Bonn in 1845, 155 + + Behrens, Miss, at Stockholm, 381 + + Belletti (barytone) supports J. Lind, 98; + at concert for Brompton Hospital, 333; + on tour with J. Lind, 337; + included in American tour, 406, 410; + in _Messiah_, 433; + in Ireland in 1859, 451 + + Bellini’s _I Puritani_, 327 + + Benedict, Sir Julius, the Composer, 138; + assists J. Lind in American arrangements, 406; + engaged as pianist, 406; + J. Lind’s estimation of, 409, 410 + + Bennett, Sterndale, 451 + + Berg, Herr, 30, 31, 32; + invited to England, 322; + a messenger from King Oscar I., 400 + + BERLIN, AT THE COURT OF, 115; + THE RETURN TO, 168; + subsequent visits to, 310, 415; + the New Opera House at, 121 + + Birch-Pfeiffer, Mme., 129; + a good teacher, 130, 131; + knowledge of “stage business,” 210; + Mendelssohn’s negotiations with her for a libretto, 210, 211; + her exertions to write an acceptable libretto, 212; + declines going on with it, 251; + on J. Lind’s mode of study, 361; + her daughter Minni, 397 + + Birmingham, 342 + + Blumm, Herr, 66; + meetings at Herr Blumm’s, 74; + on an excursion, 78 + + Bonde Palace, The, at Stockholm, 42, 91 + + Bournonville, on the _rôle_ of Alice, 37; + induces J. Lind to sing at Copenhagen, 101, 102; + incident, 104, 105 + + Brockhaus, Edouard, note-book of, 181 + + Brockhaus, Herr Heinrich, 146; + diary of, 154, 179 + + BROMPTON HOSPITAL, CONCERT FOR, 330, 333 + + Brühl Schloss, near Bonn, 152, 153, 155 + + Brunswick, 415 + + Brunton, Mme., 422 + + Buckingham Palace, 295; + Mme. Goldschmidt at, 451 + + Bunn, Mr. Alfred, lessee, Drury Lane, 134; + the Contract, 136, 137; + not signed by Mr. Bunn, 137, 165; + J. Lind’s fear of, 229; + fear dispelled, 273; + Mendelssohn’s letter as to Mr. Bunn, 256, 257; + the verdict in his favour, 318 + + Burnham Beeches, 278; + the Grotes’ cottage at, 368 + + _Burschenschaft Hannovera_ at Göttingen, 412 + + Büttner, Herr, 398 + + Bylandt, Count de, 285 + + + C. + + _Cadenze_, 357 + + Cannes, Mme. Goldschmidt at, 452 + + Carl Johann (Bernadotte), King of Sweden, Jubilee of, 97; + death of, 106 + + Carlsruhe, 245 + + _Casta Diva_ (in the opera _Norma_), at Berlin, 127; + the F♯︎, 356 + + Catalani, Mme., 115; + death of, 394; + J. Lind on, 403 + + Chopin, in London, 324; + on J. Lind’s singing, 324; + on her piano passages, 324; + his own _matinées_, a flippant criticism on, 325; + at Mrs. Grote’s, 368 + + Chorley, Mr., introduced by Mendelssohn, 230; + pleasure in hearing J. Lind, 230, 231 + + Christmas Eve, a Swedish, 128 + + Clairville Cottage, 270, 273 + + College of Music, The Royal, 363, 452 + + Concert Room, first appearance in, 144; + first in England, 294–297 + + Concerts— + American, 406, 407; + proceeds of Charity Concert at New York, November, 1850, 445 + IN THE PROVINCES, 298 + Before the Queen, 294–297 + + CONTRACT WITH MR. LUMLEY, THE, 225; + provisions of, 235, 236; + second contract, 307 + + Copenhagen, 101–105; + again at, 160–167 + + Correspondence with Mendelssohn, 192–195; 204, 208–210; 211, 212; 217, + 218; 223; 226, 227; 230; 232–235; 238–242; 243; 250–252; 256, 257 + + COURT OF BERLIN, AT THE, 115 + + Court Singer, J. Lind appointed Swedish, 58, 317; + sings as, at Coronation of Oscar I., 113; + at Lyric Concerts, as, 400, 401, 428–431 + + _Creation_, The, Haydn’s, 221, 246; + critical remarks on, 221 + + Croelius, Herr, 12; + discrimination of, 13; + portrait of, inscribed by J. Lind, 14 + + + D. + + Darmstadt, J. Lind at, 160, 231–236 + + DAS FELDLAGER IN SCHLESIEN, 122, 129 + + DÉBUT, THE, AT THE NEW OPERA HOUSE (Berlin), 121; + AT VIENNA, 196 + + Début, in London, 265 + + ——, reported, in Paris, 90 + + _Deh vieni, non tardar_ (Mozart’s _Figaro_), 419 + + Desideria, Queen, wife of Bernadotte, 66; + favours J. Lind, 98; + as Queen Dowager, 109, 110; + a bunch of forget-me-nots, 429 + + Devrient, Schrœder-, 115; + as Valentine, 190 + + Disraeli, Rt. Hon. B., on J. Lind, 334, 335 + + Dolby, Miss, duet with J. Lind, 180 + + Dresden, 111; + concert at, 415; + as Mme. Goldschmidt’s residence, 450 + + Düsseldorf, Mme. Goldschmidt in _Elijah_ at, 415 + + + E. + + Echo Song, Norwegian, 194, 357, 432 + + Ed-Sollentuna, 8, 14 + + _Elijah_, Mendelssohn’s letter upon, 212; + first performance of, 233; + at Exeter Hall, 262, 452; + for foundation of Mendelssohn Scholarships, 340; + soprano part composed for J. Lind, 340 + + Elizabeth, Queen of Prussia, personal interest of, in J. Lind, 145, 146 + + Empress-Mother of Austria, the, 215 + + Ems, J. Lind at, 396 + + Erikson, Mme., 35; + letter from J. Lind, 173, 174 + + Ernst, H. W., on tour with Mr. and Mme. Goldschmidt, 451 + + _Euryanthe_, remarks on, 139, 140 + + + F. + + Feilitzen, Mme. Lotten von (Lindblad’s daughter), 43 + + Fellborg, Anna Maria, mother of J. Lind. (_See_ Lind, Fru.) + + Ferndal, Carl, organist and parish clerk at Ed-Sollentuna, 8, 14 + + FESTIVAL, LOWER RHINE MUSICAL, 217; + committee of, 219 + + _Figlia del Reggimento, La_, 151, 281–3 + + Forsberg, Herr, 15; + signs J. Lind’s first theatrical agreement, 18; + J. Lind’s letters to 71, 82, 453 + + Frankfort, 156–9, 228 + + Frederick William IV., rebuilds Berlin Opera House, 121; + recognition of J. Lind’s talent, 146; + causes her to sing to English Royal Guests, 152; + appoints J. Lind Kammersängerin, 311 + + French, Baroness and Miss French, 373, 374, 402, 425 + + FRIENDS IN ENGLAND, 366 + + Frith, Mr. (‘Reminiscences’), 407 + + _Frühlingslied_ (Mendelssohn), 181, 221 + + Fund, the Swedish (J. Lind’s American earnings), destination of, 408 + + ——, the Nightingale, 451 + + ——, the Turkish Refugee, 452 + + Fundin, Mina, friendship for J. Lind, 21, 22; + invited to meet J. Lind at Nienstädten, 225; + concert for benefit of, 317 + + + G. + + Gade, Niels W., Herr, 163; + his Cantata _Comala_, 193 + + Garcia, Signor Manuel, 66; + first opinion of J. Lind, 67; + a further hearing, 68, 69; + on J. Lind in tragedy, 78; + J. Lind’s desire to be taught by him, 66 + + Gardoni, Signor, 260; + on tour in England with J. Lind, 301 + + GASTROLLEN, definition of the term, 122; + at Copenhagen, 161; + at Berlin, 169 + + Geibel, Dr. Emanuel, the poet, 199, 213 + + Geijer, Professor Erik Gustaf, 56; + influence of, on J. Lind, 56, 57; + his song for J. Lind, 57; + scholarships in his memory founded by Mme. Goldschmidt, 408 + + Geijer, Mme. Erik Gustaf, letter written after musical festival at + Aix-la-Chapelle, 222 + + Gewandhaus, the, at Leipzig, concerts, 178, 200, 201 + + Goldschmidt, Mme., artistic career, 451; + concert at Cannes, 452; + gift of mimicry, 453; + a severe critic, 453; + inner life, 454; + her dominant self, 456; + on her own performance of Alice, 266; + on flexibility of the larynx, 362; + objections to contortions of visage, 363; + singing beneficial to the chest, 363; + letter to the late Mr. Deacon, 363, 364; + Queen Marie of Hanover’s record, 414, 415 + + Goldschmidt, Mr. Otto, as accompanist, 449; + at Leipzig, 179; + concert for Brompton Hospital, 333; + at Hamburg accompanying J. Lind, 399; + the Lübeck ball, 411; + concert (Hamburg), 399; + American tour, 449; + marriage, 448, 450; + co-operation with madame, 451, 452; + _Ruth_, 452 + + Gothenburg, 38, 39 + + Göttingen, 412, 413 + + Grisi, Mme., J. Lind’s opinion of, 76, 77; + as Norma, 286; + secedes from H.M. Theatre, 231, 260; + generous words of, 285, 286 + + Grote, Mr. Joseph, entertains J. Lind, 387 + + Grote, Mrs., on first appearance of J. Lind before the Queen, 155; + on J. Lind’s desire to leave the stage, 156; + the Bunn contract, 156, 229; + entertains J. Lind, 262; + MS. Memoir, 263, 307, _et passim_; + a home-thrust by, 264; + on Mr. Lumley’s _fête_, 299; + at Clairville, 299; + account of J. Lind’s first provincial tour, 300, 301; + “Farewell,” 307; + provincial tour, 1848, 337–339; + the literary and musical world, 368; + J. Lind with her at Paris, 392 + + Guhr, Prof., enthusiasm of, 157 + + Günther, Prof. Julius, 100, 101; + at Westerwik, 105; + concerts with J. Lind for Josephson, 106, 107; + engagement to J. Lind, 322; + broken off, 387 + + + H. + + Habicht, the Chevalier Charles Edward, 446 + + Hall, Mr. and Mrs. S. C., 330 + + Hamburg, J. Lind’s first appearance at, 148; + concerts at, 399 + + Handel, revival of _L’Allegro_ and _Il Penseroso_, 452; + _Messiah_ at Liverpool, 433; + at Halle, 451 + + Hanover, King Georg V. and Queen Marie of, 225; + became acquainted with J. Lind, 412; + the Queen’s Reminiscences, 412–15 + + Harris, Capt. Claudius, 387–91 + + Hauser, Herr Franz, biographical note, 203; + proves a true friend, 205; + letters from Mendelssohn, 204, 217, 223 + + Heiberg, Fru (famous Danish actress), the beauty and genius of, 101 + + Heidelberg, J. Lind at, 245 + + _Heimdall_, a Swedish literary periodical, 25; + description of J. Lind’s singing, 31 + + H.M. Theatre, affairs in disorder, 231; + review of perplexities, 259; + State visit to, 284 + + Hierta, M. and Mme. Lars, 89, 90; + letters from J. Lind, 123, on her philanthropic plans, 313, 314 + + _Huguenots, Les_, 189 + + + I. + + _Ich muss nun einmal singen_, song by Rellstab and Taubert, 311, 414, + 416 + + + J. + + Jaeger, Fräulein Augusta von, 253; + letters to, 361, 362, 425 + + Jaeger, Prof. and Mme. von, 247; + letters to, 272, 275, 315, 319, 320, 321 + + Jensen, the artist, picture by, 105 + + Joachim, Prof., at Leipzig, 252; + on tour with Mr. and Mme. Goldschmidt in Ireland, 451 + + Johannson, Louise, 8; + resides with J. Lind, 41; + letter to, 62; + companion to, 91 + + Josephson, Jakob Axel, 99; + J. Lind’s assistance to, 100, 106, 107, 176; + welcomes her to Dresden, 112; + visits her at Berlin, 128; + on her Berlin success, 167; + letter from J. Lind to, 176, 177; + concert for the benefit of, 317 + + Jüngken, Prof., letter from, 416 + + + K. + + Kammersängerin, appointment as Austrian, 254; + as Prussian, 311 + + Kaskel, Consul Karl, 112, 113 + + Kaulbach, Prof. and Mme. Wilhelm von, 238, 243; + letters to, 244, 323, 336 + + Koch, M. and Mme. von, 65, 151, 156 + + Kuhe, Mr., concert at which J. Lind sang, 215 + + Küstner, Herr von (_Intendant_ of the R. Theatres, Berlin), 129, 309 + + + L. + + Lablache, Signor, 259; + alone faithful, 260; + letter to Mr. Lumley, 261; + introduced to J. Lind, 263; + J. Lind on, 295; + at Osborne, 295; + Dottore Dulcamara, 327; + at concert for Brompton Hospital, 333; + on J. Lind’s _fioritura_, 361; + at Mrs. Grote’s, 368 + + Lablache, Signor F., on tour in England with J. Lind, 301, 337; + on tour with Mr. and Mme. Goldschmidt, 451 + + Ladugårdslands church, at Stockholm, 64 + + Lansdowne House, concert at, 277 + + LAST OPERA, THE, 348 + + LAST WORDS, 448 + + Leopold, King of the Belgians, on J. Lind, 155; + at Buckingham Palace, 295 + + Lewin, Mr. Edward, 156, 229; + on tour in England with J. Lind, 301, 337; + at home in Swedish, 301; + the friend of J. Lind, 301, 369; + escorts J. Lind to England, 369 + + Leipzig, 178; + the Conservatorium at, 179 + + _Lexicon, Swedish Biographical_, 11 + + Lind, Fru (the mother of Jenny), 8, 20, 21; + Jenny boarding with her, while a pupil at Theatre-School, 17; + letters from, 38, 39, 40, 41; + J. Lind’s record of their meeting in 1848, 319; + regarding her death, 443–445 + + Lind, Jenny, Retrospection, 1–6; + at the Royal Theatre, 7; + Birth, parentage, and early life, 7; + detection of musical gifts, 10; + the historic _fanfare_, 10, 11; + adoption 11; + introduction to Croelius, 12; + PUPILAGE, 15; + agreement, 16, 17; + summary of training, 17; + first recorded letter of, 22, 23; + CAREER, 24; + dramatic power, 24, 77; + first appearance, _æt._ 10, 24, 25; + _Heimdall_, 25, 30, 31; + _The Daily Allehanda_, 29, 30; + DISCOVERY, 35; + overstrain, 37, 38; + country life, 38, 39; + leaves her mother, 41; + final disruption, 42; + a congenial home, 42; + serenade and presentation of plate, 43; + the “nightingale,” 44; + in Stockholm society, 48, 49, 50; + personal appearance of, 53; + height, 53; + CHARACTER, 54; + PILGRIMAGE, 58; + provincial tour (Sweden), 62; + characteristic charities, 62, 63, 161, 163, 164; + overstrain, 63, 64; + remuneration (1840), 64; + object of visit to Paris, 64, 66; + IN PARIS, 65; + energy and perseverance, 68, 69; + _ab initio_, 70; + scale practice, 70; + the shake, 70; + management of the breath, 70, 71; + railway accident, 78, 79; + recovery of full powers, 80; + engaged for Stockholm, 85, _seq._; + false report of Parisian _début_, 89, 90; + ACHIEVEMENT, 91; + HOME: AND AFTER?, 91; + _messa di voce_, 92; + change of guardianship, and provision for parents, 94, 95, 97; + sings at Copenhagen, 102; + return to Stockholm, 106; + letter on _Armida_, 106; + Dresden, 109; + study of German, 111; + recalled to Stockholm, 113; + appearances at, 114; + offer of engagement and pension, 114; + final refusal, 114; + arrival at Berlin, 115, 116; + TRANSFIGURATION, 117, 118; + generosity of J. Lind, 123, 124; + _début_ in Norma, 125; + first appearance as Vielka, 131; + a serenade, 133; + text of the Bunn contract, 130, 137; + Bunn contract signed, 137; + alarming attack, 141; + a touching _Auf Wiedersehen_, 144; + “oscillation,” 147, 379; + at Hamburg, 148; + return to Germany, 153; + appears before Queen Victoria, 154; + at Frankfort, 154, 156, 157; + voice, 157; + _cadenzas_, 157; + at Copenhagen, 161; + at Leipzig, 179, _seq._; + ovation at, 182, 183; + _Die Vestalin_ at Berlin, 184; + at Weimar with Andersen, 188; + _Die Hugenotten_ at Berlin, 190; + a sprained foot, 192; + AUF WIEDERSEHEN, 192–197; + again at Leipzig, 198, 200; + _début_ at Vienna, 205; + enthusiastic receptions, 205–7; + LOWER RHINE MUSICAL FESTIVAL, 217; + at Aix-la-Chapelle, 220; + at Hanover, 225; + at Hamburg, 226; + excessive fatigue, 226; + rest, 227; + memorable visit to Frankfort, 229; + refusal of Mr. Lumley’s offers, 229; + fear of Mr. Bunn, 229, 256; + at Darmstadt, 231; + the Lumley contract, 235, 236; + _concerts particuliers_, 239, 240, 242; + at Vienna, 253; + accepts Mr. Lumley’s proposals for London, 262; + visits Mrs. Grote, 262; + nervousness, 263; + “a private” hearing, 263; + perseverance and punctuality at rehearsals, 264; + _Roberto il Diavolo_, 265 _et seq._; + the Terzetto in Act V., 266; + LA SONNAMBULA, 278 _et seq._; + “the Priestess of Nature,” 283; + _Norma_, 284; + _I Masnadieri_, 288; + the music of Mozart, 290; + among British Royalties, 294; + Swedish songs, 295; + operatic triumphs reviewed, 296; + how our national heart was won, 297; + IN THE PROVINCES, 298; + studying at Burnham, 298; + at Mr. Lumley’s _Fête champêtre_, 299; + on tour, 300; + _Dove sono_, 302; + Swedish songs, 302; + last weeks in England, 307; + departure, 307; + arrival at Berlin, 310; + _La Sonnambula_, 310; + farewell to Berlin stage, 310; + appointed Prussian _Kammersängerin_, 311; + last + notes at Berlin, 311; + religious convictions, 315; + voice in normal splendour, 316; + last appearance at Stockholm, 317; + grief for the death of Mendelssohn, 320, 321; + the Fund for the Theatre School, 321; + engagement to Herr Günther, 322; + broken off by mutual consent, 387; + farewell to Sweden, 323; + arrival in London, second season, 324; + re-appearance at Her Majesty’s Theatre, 324; + _Lucia_, 326; + _I Puritani_, 327; + unrivalled as a composer of _cadenze_, 327, 328; + concert for Brompton Hospital, 332; + on tour in England, 337, 338; + at Leeds, 338; + the Mendelssohn Foundation, 337, 339 _et seq._; + performance of _Elijah_, 340; + at Manchester, 342; + at Birmingham, 342; + Yule-tide at Crumpsall, 343; + concert for Southern Hospital, Liverpool, 343; + “Jenny Lind Infirmary for Sick Children,” 343; + at Norwich, 343; + College Hall, Worcester, 344; + list of charity concerts in nine weeks, 345; + intended renunciation of Stage, 348; + Lumley in despair, 349; + a compromise, 349; + re-appearance in Opera, 350; + glorious reception, 350; + the last farewell to the Stage, 350, 351, 352; + THE METHOD, 355; + quality of voice and vocal _technique_, 355, 356, 361; + Norwegian Echo Song, 357; + the basis of the voice, 357; + indomitable perseverance, 357, 361; + _cadenze_, 357; + the shake, 358, 359; + exercise on the shake, 358, 359; + management of the breath, 359, 360; + articulation, 360, 361; + summary of eleven years’ work, 364, 365; + the home of her adoption, 366; + a kindly refuge, 369; + as St. Cecilia, 369; + influence of the Stanley family, 369 _et seq._; + the Bishop’s bible, 371; + WHY DID J. LIND LEAVE THE STAGE?, 376; + the domestic instinct, 380; + quotation from letter to Mme. Erikson on retirement, 381; + to Josephson, 381; + to Miss Behrens, 381; + to Mme. Wichmann, 383; + to Mme. Birch-Pfeiffer, 383; + appeal from Rellstab, 383; + resolved to leave the Stage, 384; + visit to Mr. Joseph Grote, 387; + engagement to Captain Harris, 388; + Mr. Nassau Senior’s advice, 390; + the settlements, 390; + engagement broken off, 392; + Paris, 393; + cholera, 394; + at Cologne—a crisis, 394; + shattered nerves, 395; + at Meran, 398; + Berlin, 400; + American contract signed, 405; + last concert as J. Lind, 408; + destination of “private or separate fund,” 408, 409; + happy days, 410, 411, 422; + with the Schumanns at Hamburg, 420 _et seq._; + the Academic Union of Lund, 424; + the Stockholm medal, 429, 430, 431; + address, 430; + Moreton Gardens, picture of J. Lind at St. Clara, Stockholm, 431; + at Liverpool, 432; + marriage, 448 + + Lind, Niclas Jonas, the father of J. Lind, 7, 8; + resigns guardianship of, 97 + + Lindblad, Adolf F., the composer, opera by, 32; + receives J. Lind into his home, 42; + biographical sketch of, 42, 54; + his influence on J. Lind, 55; + his songs, 55, 297 + + Lindskog, Mdlle. Apollonia, 41; + accompanies J. Lind to Dresden, 112, 113 + + Liverpool, J. Lind at, 343, 347, 433; + departure from, 436; + the _Messiah_ at, 347 + + Liverpool, the late Lord, on J. Lind, 155 + + Lona, Tante. _See_ Lindskog. + + London, J. Lind’s arrival in, 262 + + _Lower Rhine Musical Festival_ (1846), _the_, 217–224 + + Lübeck, 402; + American contract signed at, 405–407 + + Lumley, Mr., 229; + affairs of H.M. Theatre, 231; + letter of introduction to J. Lind for, from Mendelssohn, 232, _seq._; + letter to Mendelssohn from, 234, 235; + conditions of the Lumley Contract, 235, 236; + managerial enterprise, 261, 287; + anxiety for a new opera, 287; + withdrawal of Mendelssohn, 287; + Verdi’s _I Masnadieri_, 288; + Lumley’s villa near Putney, 299; + at Bath, 307; + second contract with J. Lind, 307; + the Bunn verdict, 318; + on season of 1848, 329; + liberality of, 332; + her loyalty to, 390 + + Lund, University of, donation from J. Lind, 408 + + Lundberg, Mdlle. (a dancer at the R. Theatre, Stockholm), 12 + + + M. + + Magnus, Professor, portrait, of J. Lind, 195, 251; + replica of the portrait, 196 + + Malvern Hills, cottage on the, bought, 408; + Mme. Goldschmidt’s last illness at, 423, 424; + her last notes, 423, 424 + + Manchester, J. Lind at, 338, 342, 432 + + Mario (famous tenor), revolts from Lumley, 260; + memorable party at St. Petersburg, 285 + + Mendelssohn-Bartholdy, Felix, 2, 3; + first meeting with J. Lind, 119; + his opinion of J. Lind, 163; + at Berlin, 177; + concert at the Gewandhaus, Leipzig, 181, 182; + his speech, 183; + letter to J. Lind, 192, 208, 211; + _Elijah_ unfinished, 212; + correspondence with Hauser, 217, 223; + further letters to J. Lind, 226, 230, 232, 238, 250, 256; + last visit to England, 262; + receives J. Lind, with Mrs. Grote, 262; + produces _Elijah_, 262; + disappointment as to Scribe’s _libretto_ for _La Tempesta_, 287; + songs by, sung by J. Lind at Osborne, 295; + death of, 320; + influence of, on J. Lind, 321, 385; + proposed School of Music in honour of, 337 + + Mendelssohn, Mme. Felix, 199; + letters from J. Lind to, 396 + + Meran, J. Lind at, 398 + + “METHOD, THE,” 355–364 + + Meyerbeer, 2, 34; + hears J. Lind in Paris, 87; + his opinion of her, 89; + anxiety to engage her for the Berlin Opera, 109; + “enchanted” by her interpretation of his _Vielka_, 131; + letter from, 142; + his _Vielka_ at Vienna, 254, 255; + in Paris, 393; + his _Prophète_, 393 + + Mozart, the music of, 290; + his _Recitativo secco_, 291, 293; + J. Lind’s admiration of, 290 + + Munich, at, 238, 243, 244 + + Munthe, Carl, 95–97 + + Munthe, Judge H. M., 31; + character of, 95; + letters to, from Berlin, 116, 147, 177; + letter to, from Stuttgard, 245; + from London, 274; + a noteworthy letter from J. Lind, 336; + in Paris, and travelling with J. Lind, 394, 395; + letters to, 410, 441 + + + N. + + New York, a day’s work in, 445, 446 + + Nienstädten, near Altona, J. Lind’s visits to, 168, 225 + + Nightingale, 43, 157, 164; + “The Swedish,” 271; + the beloved, 297; + J. Lind’s, 298; + the Northern, 412, 415 + + Nissen, Mdlle., 70; + sings with J. Lind, 74, 75; + her prospect of high reputation, 76 + + Norwich, 302; + the Cathedral, 302; + reception continued, 303, 304; + at, 343 + + NOZZE DI FIGARO, LE, 290–293 + + Nuremberg, J. Lind at, 245 + + + O. + + Oak Lea, Wimbledon, 450 + + Œhlenschläger, the poet, 163 + + Oldenburg, J. Lind at, 415 + + _O Jugend, O schöne Rosenzeit_ (in Mendelssohn’s song), 412 + + Operas:— + _Anna Bolena_, 64 + _Armida_ (Gluck), 196 + _Château de Menténero_ (Dalayrac), 36 + _Divertissement National_ (Berwald), 97, 98 + _Don Giovanni, Il_ (_Don Juan_), Berlin, 169 + _Elisir d’Amore, L’_, 319; + first time in London, 326 + _Elves, The_ (Van Boom), 365 + _Euryanthe_ (Weber), 43, 138, 139, 140 + _Feldlager in Schlesien, Das_, 109, 111, 112; + in Berlin, 131–133; + at Vienna, 253 + _Ferdinand Cortez_ (Spontini), 365 + _Figlia del Reggimento_ (first appearance), 150; + its special charm, 151; + at Vienna, 248; + in London, 282; + at Berlin, 310; + at Stockholm, 316; + last performance, 350 + _Freischütz, Der_ (Weber), 35, 36, 71, 148; + at Berlin, 170; + at Vienna, “an immense success,” 214; + at Stockholm, 316; + grand _Scena_ from, 360 + _Frondörerne_ (Lindblad), 32 + _Gazza Ladra, La_, 93 + _Huguenots, Les_, 93; + at Berlin, 189; + Vienna version, _Die Ghibellinen in Pisa_, 214 + _Jag går i Kloster_ (Berwald), 365 + _Lucia di Lammermoor_, 43, 150; + first time in England and _Times_ critique on, 325, 326 + _Marie_ (Hérold), 43 + _Masnadieri, I_, 288 + _May Day in Wärend, A_, 97, 106 + _Norma_, 64; + at Stockholm, 92; + at Berlin, 125–127; + at Vienna, 205, 206; + in London, 284 + _Nozze di Figaro, Le_, 93, 243, 290; + the _Recitativo secco_, 293 + _Puritani, I_, first performance by J. Lind, 327; + _Times_ critique upon, 328 + _Roberto il Diavolo_, 34, 36, 41, 42; + at Copenhagen, 102; + at H.M. Theatre, 265 _et seq._; + last performance, 350, 351 + _Semiramide_ (Rossini), 93, 365 + _Sonnambula, La_, at Stockholm, 93, 149; + at Vienna, 207; + ovation, 214, 215; + in London, 278 _et seq._; + second season in London, 324; + last performance, 350, 351 + _Swiss Family, The_ (Weigl), 63, 92 + _Straniera, La_, 30, 63 + _Turco in Italia, Il_ (Rossini), 150 + _Vestale, La_ (Spontini), 36, 43; + at Berlin, 184 + _Vielka_ (_Das Feldlager in Schlesien_), at Vienna, 253; + Fräulein von Jaeger’s account of, 253, 254; + the famous Trio in, 253 + _Zauberflöte, Die_, 63, 349 + + Opera Houses:— + Berlin, 125, 169; + final farewell, 310 + Copenhagen, 102, 161 + Dresden, 112 + Hamburg (Stadt-Theater), 148 + Hanover (Court Theatre), 225 + Munich, 244 + Stockholm, 149 _et seq._ + Vienna, 204, 247 + + Operatic Parts. _See_ Operas. + + Oratorio, J. Lind in, 376; + “the wish of my heart,” 396 + + Oratorios:— + Haydn’s _Creation_, Aix-la-Chapelle, 221, 223; + Exeter Hall, 345, 452 + Handel’s _Messiah_, Liverpool, 433; + Halle, 451; + (Rotterdam, 1855); + Düsseldorf, 451; + Exeter Hall, 452 + —— _Alexander’s Feast_ (Aix-la-Chapelle), 221 + Handel’s _L’Allegro ed Il Penseroso_, 452 + —— _St. Cecilia_, Ode, Düsseldorf, 451 + Mendelssohn’s _Elijah_ at Exeter Hall, 340, 452; + at Düsseldorf, 415 + Schumann’s _Paradise and the Peri_ at Düsseldorf (1855); + in London, 451 + Otto Goldschmidt’s _Ruth_, 452 + + Osborne, J. Lind at, 295 + + Oscar I. of Sweden, coronation of, 113; + request to J. Lind, 400; + letter from, 400, 401 + + + P. + + Paris, J. Lind in, 65; + street cries of, 69; + J. Lind’s opinion of, 81; + Italian Opera, 76, 89; + visit to, in 1849, 392 + + Pasta, Mme., _Norma_ written for, 125 + + Perman, Fru (Östersund, Sweden), 9 + + Persiani, Mme., J. Lind’s impressions of, 76; + in revolt, 231; + secedes from + H.M. Theatre, 260 + + Pillet, Leon, Mons., Director, Grand Opera, Paris, 88; + contradiction of false reports respecting, 90 + + Plays:— + _Adèle de Sénanges_, 33 + _American Monkey, The_, 35 + _Angelo Malipieri_, 33 + _Bride of the Capital, The_, 33 + _Bride of the Tomb, The_, 33 + _Death of Wallenstein, The_, 33 + _Fausse Agnès, La_, 29 + _Fisherman, The_, 33 + _Foster-Son, The_, 30 + _Jealous Wife_, 33 + _Jenny Mortimer_, 33 + _Johanna de Montfaucon_, 29 + _Ludicrous Encounter, The_, 33 + _Marie di Sivry_, 33 + _New Bluebeard, The_, 32 + _New Garrison, The_, 30 + _Pasha of Suresne, The_, 29 + _Polish Mine, The_, 25 + _Sentinel, The_, 33 + _Sons of King Edward, The_, 33, 35 + _Students of Småland, The_, 29 + _Testamentet_, 25–29 + _Thirty Years of a Gambler’s Life_, 29 + _Unknown Son, The_, 32 + _Zoe_, 33 + (To this list must be added certain ephemeral plays, or fragments of + plays—to the number of about a dozen—not mentioned in the text.) + + Pokorny, Director (Vienna), 158, 247; + in despair, 205 + + Prince Consort, H.R.H. the late, 152, 155; + at H.M. Theatre on J. Lind’s appearance, 265; + state visit to the opera (_Norma_), 284, 350, 351 + + PROVINCES, IN THE, 298 + + Prussia, Princess of (the late Empress Augusta), 117 + + Puget, Mdlle. du, 73, 74 + + Puke, Count, 12, 13 + + + Q. + + QUEEN’S STATE VISIT TO THE OPERA, THE, 284 + + + R. + + Rachel, J. Lind on, 77 + + Redern, Graf von, 160; + messages to, 399, 443 + + Reeves, Mr. Sims, 452 + + Rellstab, Ludwig, critic and poet, 126, 191; + author of _libretto_ of Meyerbeer’s _Camp of Silesia_, 122; + of Prologue for Festival performance of Weber’s _Euryanthe_, 139; + his criticisms on J. Lind’s “Norma,” 126; + “Euryanthe,” 140; + “Agatha,” 171; + “Julia,” in _La Vestale_, 184; + “Valentine,” in _The Huguenots_, all at Berlin, 190; + his notices on farewell performance second Berlin season, 196; + in _La Sonnambula_ once more at Berlin (1847), 310; + his protest against her retirement from the stage, 383; + welcomes her back to Berlin and reviews her as a concert-singer, + 417–420 + + Reyer, Mme., 116, 128 + + Rhine, the, 219 _et seq._ + + Ridderstolpe, Baroness, 116, 119, 128 + + Roger, M., the great French tenor, 337; + “Mark this well,” 338; + his “Le Carnet d’un Tenor,” 285 + + Rollet, Hermann, poet, 188 + + Rossi, Countess (Sontag), 116; + fame of, 117, 417 + + Ruckman, Fröken Marie, 81 + + Ruffiaques, Mme., J. Lind’s hostess at Paris, 66, 73 + + + S. + + Sainton, M., on tour with Mr. and Mme. Goldschmidt, 451 + + Sassenay, Marquis and Marquise de (Aix-la-Chapelle), 220 + + Schiller, tomb of, 188; + his _Die Räuber_ (Verdi’s _I Masnadieri_), 288 + + Scholarships:— + “Geijer,” at Upsala University, 408 + “Jenny Lind,” at the Stockholm Academies, 313, 314, 321 + “Mendelssohn,” in London, 340 + “Bishop Tegnér,” at Lund University, 408 + + Schrœder, Herr Schoeltz von, Prussian envoy to Denmark, 160 + + Schumann, Mme. Clara, at Leipzig, 200; + at Vienna, 248; + diary of, 249; + introduced to Mme. Wichmann by J. Lind, 255; + her diary recording their meeting and joint concerts at Hamburg, + 420–422; + concert in London, 452 + + Schumann, Dr. Robert, at Vienna, 248; + at Hamburg, 420; + his genius, 423; + his songs, 420–422; + his _An den Sonnenschein_, 421, 424 + + Schwabe, Mr. and Mme. Salis, at Manchester, 343, 373; + with J. Lind at Liverpool, 432; + letters to, 375, 398, 427 + + Schwerin, Court Theatre at, 149 + + Seminoff, Fräulein von, 422 + + Senior, Mr. Nassau, 266, 393; + his advice and intervention, 390–392 + + Shake, the, 269; + Queen Victoria’s remark on it, 280; + Mme. Goldschmidt’s way of teaching it, with musical example, 358, 359 + + Soult, Mme. la Maréchale, 66 + + South Germany, 237 + + Spontini at Berlin, 170; + his masterpiece, 184 + + St. Clara (parish of), at Stockholm, 7; + singing at, 431 + + Stanley, Arthur Penrhyn (Dean of Westminster), descriptive letter from, + 303–307 + + Stanley, Bishop, of Norwich, 301; + invitation to J. Lind, 302; + his watchful care of her, 369; + farewell letter, 370; + the Bishop’s present of a Swedish Bible, 371 + + ——, Mrs. (the Bishop’s wife) motherly devotion to J. Lind, 369, 392; + letters on her second visit to Norwich, 372, 373; + conversation with, 388; + J. Lind’s letters to, 353, 449 + + Staudigl, Herr, at Vienna, 205; + in _Figaro_, at H.M. Theatre, 291 + + Stedingk, Fröken von, her Diary, 98, 109; + on J. Lind’s return to Sweden in 1848, 313, 318; + in 1850, 428, 429 + + Stockholm, Home for Widows of Burghers, 11; + soirée at in 1839, 48, 50; + J. Lind’s return to, 316, 428; + Children’s Hospital at, 409 + + Students, the Göttingen, 412; + letter to, from J. Lind, 413 + + Stuttgard, at, 243 + + _Suleika_ (Mendelssohn), 419 + + Sweden, bequest to, 313, 314, 408, 430 + + Swedish Songs, at Dresden, 113; + at Berlin, 145; + at Leipzig, 180, 181; + at Buckingham Palace, and at Osborne, 295; + at Norwich, 302; + at Hanover, 411; + in America, 442 + + Swedish Medal Committee and address, 429 + + + T. + + Taglioni, Mons. Paul, 109 + + Tamburini, 259, 260 + + Tasmania, Bishop Nixon of, 304, 306; + J. Lind on, 371; + letter to J. Lind, 371. + + Taubert, Prussian Hof-Kapellmeister, at Leipzig, 192; + Mendelssohn’s account of, 193; + at Vienna, 213, 218; + new song by, 311, 442; + messenger to J. Lind from King of Prussia, 400 + + Tegnér, Bishop, Scholarships in memory of, 408 + + TEMPESTA, LA, 289 + + Tengmark, Fru, Jenny’s grandmother, 9, 10 + + Thalberg, Sigismund, a visitor at Clairville, 330; + at Mrs. Grote’s, 368 + + Theatre, Royal, at Stockholm, 15; + school of girls, 15, 16; + directors of the, 16; + J. Lind invited to sing for, by the King, 400 + + Tieck, the poet, an evening spent with him, 133 + + Topelius, the Finnish poet, 99 + + Tuczec, Fräulein, 122–125; + the Zerlina of, 170; + in the concert-room, 145, 418 + + + U. + + Upsala, J. Lind at, 37, 38; + concert at, for Josephson, 107; + University of, 408 + + + V. + + Victoria, Queen, the preparations for entertaining, on her first visit + to the Continent since her accession, 152, 153; + enchanted with J. Lind, 155; + at Frankfort, 159; + at H.M. Theatre, 265, 267; + enthusiasm of, 268; + critique on _Sonnambula_, 280, 281; + constant attendance at H.M. Theatre, second J. Lind season, 328, 329 + + _Vielka._ _See_ Meyerbeer. + + Vienna, J. Lind at, 202; + the _début_ at, 205; + J. Lind’s love for, 215, 276 + + Vivanot, Dr., 202; + death of Mme., 247 + + + W. + + Wainwright, Bishop, of New York, 448 + + Weber, Carl Maria von, 138 + + Weigall, Lady Rose, memorandum by, 117–119 + + Weimar, J. Lind and Andersen at, 187; + at Goethe’s and Schiller’s graves, 188 + + Wellington, the Duke of, 277, 346 + + West, Captain, s.s. _Atlantic_, 437 + + Westmorland, Earl of, 116, 117; + and the Bunn contract, 135 + + Westmorland, Lady, testimony of, 117, 118 + + Why did J. Lind leave the Stage?, 376–392 + + Wichmann, Prof. Ludwig and Frau Amalia, their home, 119, 415; + Magnus’ portrait of J. Lind, a tribute from her to them, 195; + medallion-portrait by Prof. Wichmann, 195, 309; + letters to Frau Amalia, 168, 199, 213, 254, 309, 337, 394, 409, 442 + + Wichmann, Herr Rudolph (member for Koenigsberg in the German + Reichstag), 169, 224 + + Willis, Parker, notes on J. Lind, 445–447 + + Wilton, Mr., agent for Mr. Barnum, 405, 406 + + Wimbledon, 368, 450 + + Windsor Castle, Mme. Goldschmidt at, 451 + + Wynd’s Point, Malvern Hills, 461–462 + + + Z. + + _Zauberflöte, Die_, 63, 349 + + _Zwiegesang_ (Mangold’s) first time, 419 + +----- + +Footnote 1: + + _e.g._ The ‘Appendix of Music,’ etc.: published separately by Messrs. + Novello & Co. + +Footnote 2: + + Recorded by Mrs. Grote, in her Note-book, as said to her by + Mendelssohn in 1846. _Cf._ Mendelssohn’s words to Hans Andersen, at p. + 163. + +Footnote 3: + + The editor of this Biographical Dictionary had written to her to ask + if she could give him any account of her artistic training. + +Footnote 4: + + “Jenny Lind” appears as the formal name, even in the official + document. Only once, _i.e._ in the Confirmation certificate, 1836, + does the full name of her christening reappear, “Johanna Maria Lind.” + +Footnote 5: + + In estimating these figures concerning her fixed salary, it must be + remembered that there was, besides, “Play-money,” _i.e._, a bonus + given on each appearance. + +Footnote 6: + + Randel was, then, 2nd Leader of the R. Orchestra. + +Footnote 7: + + Grove’s ‘Dictionary of Music,’ Art. “Lindblad.” + +Footnote 8: + + _Cf._ Biography in Geijer’s Collected Works, 1873–75. + +Footnote 9: + + They were printed, with music, in the ‘Linnaea Borealis Poetisk + Kalender,’ 1841. + +Footnote 10: + + The wife of Maréchal Bernadotte, who became King of Sweden and Norway, + in the year 1818, under the title of Karl XIV. Johann. + +Footnote 11: + + It is necessary that these words should be very distinctly recorded; + for, their frequent misquotation, in the newspapers, and elsewhere, + has led to a very false impression, equally unjust to master and + pupil. The _Maestro’s_ exact words were, “_Mademoiselle, vous n’avez + plus de voix_”—not, “_Vous n’avez pas de voix_.” Mdlle. Lind had once + possessed a voice; but it had been so strained, by over-exertion, and + a faulty method of production, that, for the time being, scarcely a + shred of it remained. + +Footnote 12: + + The exact date of these two interviews with Signor Garcia cannot now + be ascertained. + +Footnote 13: + + This, and all other extracts from the collection of letters in the + Lindblad family, have been kindly furnished by Madame Grandinson, + (_née_ Lindblad.) + +Footnote 14: + + The _début_ really took place on March 7, 1838; _i.e._ “four years + ago.” See pp. 35–36. + +Footnote 15: + + See note, p. 11. + +Footnote 16: + + Afterwards, Madame Siegfried Saloman. + +Footnote 17: + + Philippe was an old servant of Herr Blumm’s, who, with his + characteristic kindness and courtesy, sent him to attend Mdlle. Lind + to and from her lessons with Garcia. + +Footnote 18: + + A kind of rye bread, baked in large thin round cakes, with a hole in + the middle, by which they are hung up in bundles, and thus kept fresh + for a long time. + +Footnote 19: + + The early Service, on Christmas Day. + +Footnote 20: + + Equal to 8,000 francs; or £320 sterling. + +Footnote 21: + + It is possible that this may be a _lapsus calami_, for “six to seven + thousand”—_i.e._ 12,000 to 14,000 francs, or £480 to £560. The larger + sum seems improbable, to the last degree. + +Footnote 22: + + Possibly, Mdlle. Lind’s idea of tragedy may have differed from Signor + Garcia’s. On such a point, the Scandinavian and the Keltic temperament + were scarcely likely to be in very close accordance. + +Footnote 23: + + Herr Gelhaar was a member of the Royal Orchestra at Stockholm. + +Footnote 24: + + Rather less than £5 10s. + +Footnote 25: + + A technical term, applied to the art of swelling or diminishing the + tone of the voice, by imperceptible gradation from the softest + attainable _piano_, to the full volume of its utmost power, and _vice + versâ_. + +Footnote 26: + + ‘Gedenkblätter an Jakob Axel Josephson,’ von N. P. Õdman, 1886. + +Footnote 27: + + ‘Biography of J. A. Josephson,’ p. 106. + +Footnote 28: + + _Ib._, p. 124. + +Footnote 29: + + _I.e._ Count and Countess Carl Björnstjerna. + +Footnote 30: + + ‘_Aus dem Leben eines Schwedischen Componisten; Gedenkblätter an Jakob + Axel Josephson_,’ von N. P. Õdman (Stockholm, 1886), vol. ii. + +Footnote 31: + + Long since burned down, and rebuilt on a still grander scale. + +Footnote 32: + + See page 110. + +Footnote 33: + + About £420 sterling. + +Footnote 34: + + Afterwards the Empress Augusta. + +Footnote 35: + + His Excellency and Lady Westmorland. + +Footnote 36: + + From a private memorandum written by the Lady Rose Weigall, by whose + kind permission it is inserted here. + +Footnote 37: + + The full title of the Opera was, “_Das Feldlager in Schlesien. Oper, + in drei Aufzügen, in Lebensbildern aus der Zeit Friedrich des Grossen, + von L. Rellstab. Musik von Meyerbeer. Tänze von Hoguet._” “_The Camp + of Silesia._ Opera, in three Acts, in Life-pictures of the time of + Frederick the Great, by L. Rellstab. Music by Meyerbeer. Dances by + Hoguet.” + +Footnote 38: + + _Gastrollen._ In the German theatres, performers not belonging to the + regular company, and employed for a limited number of performances + only, are called “guests” (_Gäste_), and engaged on special terms, + without a formal contract in writing. + +Footnote 39: + + _Das Feldlager in Schlesien._ + +Footnote 40: + + Herr Ludwig Rellstab, critic and poet, the author of the _libretto_ of + _Das Feldlager in Schlesien_. + +Footnote 41: + + Six thousand thalers is equal to about £900 in English money. + +Footnote 42: + + A sojourn in Italy, for purposes of study, had been the dream of Herr + Josephson’s life; and it is evident that he must have spoken to her + about it in Dresden during the previous summer. + +Footnote 43: + + This famous piece, in which the voice is accompanied by two flutes + (_obbligati_), was afterwards transferred, by Meyerbeer, to _L’Etoile + du Nord_. + +Footnote 44: + + The poet, Tieck. + +Footnote 45: + + Equal to about £40 in English money. + +Footnote 46: + + See his “Life of Weber,” in ‘The Great Musicians.’ + +Footnote 47: + + ‘_Unter ist mein Stern gegangen._’ + +Footnote 48: + + That is to say £7 10_s._, £12, and 9_s._ in English money. + +Footnote 49: + + This, and all other letters written by Mdlle. Lind to Madame + Birch-Pfeiffer, are printed by the kind permission of Frau von + Hillern, Madame Birch-Pfeiffer’s daughter. + +Footnote 50: + + The late Lord Liverpool. + +Footnote 51: + + See footnote on p. 143. + +Footnote 52: + + ‘Das Märchen meines Lebens,’ von H. C. Andersen (Leipzig, 1880). + +Footnote 53: + + From Mrs. Grote’s MS. Memoir. + +Footnote 54: + + This, and all other letters written by Mdlle. Lind to Frau Professor + Amalia Wichmann, are printed by the kind permission of one of Madame + Wichmann’s sons. + +Footnote 55: + + Founded by Mendelssohn in 1843, and then flourishing exceedingly under + his energetic personal superintendence. + +Footnote 56: + + The “victim” was Herr Otto Goldschmidt. + +Footnote 57: + + Frau Friedrich Brockhaus, _née_ Wagner; a sister of Richard Wagner. + +Footnote 58: + + From the _Tagebücher von Heinrich Brockhaus_. (Leipzig, 1884.) + Privately printed, for friends only. + +Footnote 59: + + Mendelssohn’s exact words—spoken, of course, in German—were:— + + “GENTLEMEN! + + “You think that the Kapellmeister Mendelssohn is speaking to you, + but in that you are mistaken. Fräulein Jenny Lind speaks to you, and + thanks you for the beautiful surprise that you have prepared for + her. But now I change myself back again into the Leipzig + Kapellmeister, and call upon you to wish long life to Fräulein Jenny + Lind. Long life to her! and again, long life to her! and, for the + third time, long life!” + +Footnote 60: + + Herr Taubert had come to Leipzig, a few days before this, for the + purpose of playing at one of the Gewandhaus Concerts. + +Footnote 61: + + Mendelssohn’s eldest daughter. + +Footnote 62: + + Mendelssohn’s second son. + +Footnote 63: + + Madame Mendelssohn. + +Footnote 64: + + A Scandinavian Volkslied, afterwards known as _The Echo Song_. + +Footnote 65: + + This, and other letters published in this work, addressed by + Mendelssohn to Mdlle. Lind, are translated from the originals, in the + possession of Mr. Goldschmidt. + +Footnote 66: + + “I thank you—never, in my whole life, shall I forget this!” + +Footnote 67: + + Equal to about fifty pounds, in English money. + +Footnote 68: + + Mendelssohn’s _last_ performance in the Gewandhaus took place on July + 19, 1846, when he played the pianoforte part of Beethoven’s “Kreutzer + Sonata” (Op. 47) with Ferdinand David. + +Footnote 69: + + Mendelssohn died on Nov. 4, 1847. The circumstances above related, and + still remembered by many, are corroborated by entries made in the + writer’s diary, at the time. + +Footnote 70: + + Herr Franz Hauser was born on the 12th of February, 1794; and was + first known in Germany as a bass singer of exceptional talent. After + having taught singing, in Vienna, for many years, with great success, + he was appointed Director of the Conservatorium in Munich, and held + this post from the year 1846 to 1864. + +Footnote 71: + + It must be remembered that Mendelssohn looked upon the conscientious + cultivation of Art as a religious duty; and endeavoured to impress + that view upon all who were in familiar intercourse with him. + +Footnote 72: + + Translated, by the kind permission of Herr Joseph Hauser, from the + original letter in his collection. + +Footnote 73: + + See footnote on p. 195. + +Footnote 74: + + _Elijah._ + +Footnote 75: + + See footnote on p. 195 + +Footnote 76: + + “You have well understood me. I thank you, from my heart.” + +Footnote 77: + + From the Hauser letters. + +Footnote 78: + + _Elijah_, which was to be produced at the Birmingham Festival, in the + following August. + +Footnote 79: + + Annotations-Bok. + +Footnote 80: + + Mr. Chorley was the musical critic attached to the _Athenæum_. + +Footnote 81: + + From the original letter, preserved by the Mendelssohn Family. + +Footnote 82: + + The document was formally signed on Oct. 17, 1846. + +Footnote 83: + + Transcribed from the original letter, preserved by the Mendelssohn + Family. + +Footnote 84: + + From Frau von Hillern’s collection. + +Footnote 85: + + Mendelssohn died in the autumn of the next year. + +Footnote 86: + + Translated from the original letter, by the kind permission of Madame + von Kaulbach. + +Footnote 87: + + Herr Hauser. + +Footnote 88: + + Translated from the original German, by the kind permission of Madame + Schumann. + +Footnote 89: + + The original letter, written in French, was sent to Mdlle. Lind by Mr. + Lumley, who also forwarded a copy of it to Mendelssohn. + +Footnote 90: + + From Mrs. Grote’s MS. Memoir. + +Footnote 91: + + Lumley’s ‘_Reminiscences of the Opera_.’ (London, 1864, p. 185.) + +Footnote 92: + + Notes graciously furnished to us from Her Majesty’s Diary, of which we + have gratefully availed ourselves in subsequent parts of this Book. + +Footnote 93: + + From _The Times_, May 5, 1847. + +Footnote 94: + + Translated, by permission, from the original letter, in the possession + of Fräulein Jaeger von Jaxthal. + +Footnote 95: + + See the note [92] already referred to on page 268. + +Footnote 96: + + _Le Carnet d’un Tenor._ Gustav Roger. (Paris, 1880.) + +Footnote 97: + + Although the passage was sung without accompaniment, a Thorough-bass + is given with it in the score. + +Footnote 98: + + For our information in regard to these concerts we are indebted to the + notes referred to in the note, p. 268, _ante_. + +Footnote 99: + + From Mrs. Grote’s MS. ‘_Memoir_.’ + +Footnote 100: + + Bishop Nixon. + +Footnote 101: + + Transcribed from the original letter, by the kind permission of the + late Dean’s literary executor. + +Footnote 102: + + From Mrs. Grote’s MS. _Memoir_. + +Footnote 103: + + From the Wichmann collection. + +Footnote 104: + + The marble medallion, by Professor Wichmann. + +Footnote 105: + + From the Wichmann collection. + +Footnote 106: + + _Kgl. Berl. (Voss.) Zeitung_ (Oct. 19, 1847). See also, _Gesammelte + Schriften von L. Rellstab_, Tom. xx., p. 407 _et seq._ + +Footnote 107: + + Mdlle. Lind’s last notes had been heard in the Royal Opera-House, on + the 18th of October, at a Concert given in aid of the members of the + Chorus, for which occasion Herr Taubert had composed the Song, _Ich + muss nun einmal singen_, then sung by her for the first time. + +Footnote 108: + + “Ich kann es mir nicht versagen, der allgemeinen Anerkennung welche + Ihrem seltenen Talent und Ihrer vollendeten Meisterschaft in der Kunst + des Gesanges gezollt wird, die meinige hinzu-zufügen, und wünsche + Ihnen dieselbe dadurch zu bethätigen, dass ich Sie hierdurch zu meiner + Kammersängerin ernenne. + + “Sans-Souci, den 16 Oktober, 1847, + (Signed) “FRIEDRICH WILHELM R. + + “An Demoiselle Jenny Lind.” + +Footnote 109: + + “Ich habe die Sängerin Jenny Lind zu meiner Kammersängerin ernannt, + und habe Sie davon hierdurch in Kenntniss setzen wollen. + + “Sans Souci, den 16 Oktober, 1847. + “FRIEDRICH WILHELM.” + +Footnote 110: + + She was made _First_ Court Singer by Oscar I. on December 24th of that + year; and she retained this special privilege until her death. + +Footnote 111: + + November 4, 1847. + +Footnote 112: + + From ‘The Life of Chopin’, by Fr. Niecks. (London, 1890.) + +Footnote 113: + + From _The Musical World_ (July 8, 1848). + +Footnote 114: + + From the _Times_, May 26, 1848. + +Footnote 115: + + From the _Times_, July 31, 1848. + +Footnote 116: + + “Reminiscences of the Opera,” p. 226. + +Footnote 117: + + ‘A Retrospect of a Long Life,’ by Samuel Carter Hall. (London, 1883.) + +Footnote 118: + + From the _Times_, July 31, 1848. + +Footnote 119: + + Mr. S. C. Hall, writing thirty-five years after the event, and having + evidently forgotten its details, gives a very inaccurate account of + the circumstances, which we have here described on the highest + possible authority. Mr. Goldschmidt had been introduced to Mdlle. + Lind, and she very much wished to give him the opportunity of + appearing at her concert. But, she had not heard him play; and did not + think it wise to render herself responsible for the _début_ of a young + artist, until she had made herself acquainted with the style of his + performance. She therefore invited him to play to her at Clairville; + and it was after having heard him there, that she requested his + assistance at the concert. + +Footnote 120: + + This beautiful salver is now inherited by Madame Goldschmidt’s second + son. + +Footnote 121: + + _Le Carnet d’un Tenor._ G. Roger. (Paris, 1880.) + +Footnote 122: + + We are indebted, for the verification of these details, to the + courtesy of Mr. J. J. Winter, who has acted, for many years, as Hon. + Chairman of the Committee of Management. + +Footnote 123: + + Applied, in 1853, to “The Jenny Lind Infirmary for Sick Children.” + +Footnote 124: + + From _The Times_, April 4, 1849. + +Footnote 125: + + It will be noticed that _The Standard_ makes no mention of the + ‘Governesses’ Benevolent Institution.’ + +Footnote 126: + + See footnote, p. 268. + +Footnote 127: + + A dramatic singer at Stockholm, who lately published an account of her + intercourse with Madame Goldschmidt, in a Swedish newspaper. + +Footnote 128: + + Cf. p. 70. + +Footnote 129: + + Within the last few years, an attempt has been made to invest the + term, _clavicular breathing_, with a mode of filling the lungs, + pernicious, to the last degree—a process which, we need scarcely say, + was never practised, either by Mdlle. Lind, or Rubini, whose method of + breathing seems to have been closely analogous to, if not absolutely + identical with, her own. + +Footnote 130: + + “Does not the light of the moon deceive me!” + +Footnote 131: + + ‘Grosse Gesang-Schule für Deutschland,’ von Friedrich Schmitt + (München, 1854); a work of which Madame Goldschmidt thought so highly, + that she permitted her testimonial to be printed in connection with + it. + +Footnote 132: + + At the Royal College of Music, where Madame Goldschmidt was then + directing the training of the female vocal scholars. + +Footnote 133: + + Book VII. Ch. IX. + +Footnote 134: + + Book VII. Ch. IX. + +Footnote 135: + + “The Lord shall preserve thee from all evil, etc.”—Psalm cxxxi. 7, 8. + “And this I pray, that your love may abound, etc.”—Philippians i. 9, + 10. + +Footnote 136: + + Book II. Ch. II., p. 77. + +Footnote 137: + + From Mrs. Grote’s Note-book. _Cf._ the record of it in the MS. Memoir + of the life of Jenny Lind, Book IV., Ch. VIII. + +Footnote 138: + + Let any one who ever knew Jenny Lind, turn to a book such as ‘The + Mapleson Memoirs’ (London 1888); let him learn there, in its + rollicking gossip, the characters, the conditions, with which + theatrical management concerns itself: and his chief wonder will, + surely, be how she tolerated such an environment for a single day. + +Footnote 139: + + Book V., Ch. I., p. 213. + +Footnote 140: + + Book IV., Ch. X., p. 174. + +Footnote 141: + + _Cf._ Book VI., Ch. I., p. 238. + +Footnote 142: + + _Cf._ Book VI., Ch. III. + +Footnote 143: + + _Cf._ Book VII., Ch. VIII., p. 295. + +Footnote 144: + + _Cf._ Book VIII., Ch. I., p. 310. + +Footnote 145: + + _Cf._ Book VIII., Chapter II. + +Footnote 146: + + _Cf._ Book VII., Ch. IX. + +Footnote 147: + + For our account of this affair, we are greatly indebted to a private + record made by Mr. Senior, which the kindness of his daughter, Mrs. + Simpson, has allowed us to see and use. + +Footnote 148: + + From private record of Mr. Nassau Senior. + +Footnote 149: + + See Lumley’s ‘Reminiscences,’ 1864, Chap. XVII. + +Footnote 150: + + See Book VIII., chap. I. + +Footnote 151: + + Authorised edition, Buffalo, 1889. + +Footnote 152: + + _Cf._ Frith’s ‘Autobiography and Reminiscences.’ Sec. Ed. 1887, vol. + ii. p. 318. + +Footnote 153: + + To neither foundation did she give her own name. That at Upsala was + named after Geijer, that at Lund after Bp. Tegnér. + +Footnote 154: + + _I.e._, of Hanover. + +Footnote 155: + + In the autumn of 1854, two years after her marriage with Mr. + Goldschmidt. Her father, Mr. N. J. Lind, was with her during this + visit. + +Footnote 156: + + _I.e._, Qui la voce. + +Footnote 157: + + _I.e._, “Deh vieni, non tardar.” + +Footnote 158: + + _I.e._, Mangold’s “Zwiegesang.” + +Footnote 159: + + Altona, adjoining city to Hamburg. + +Footnote 160: + + The profits came to 21,805 crowns (over £1,200). The fee of 1,000 + crowns, which she consented to accept, was given by her to the Sick + and Burial Association of the employés in the tailoring department of + the theatre. + +Footnote 161: + + She was peculiarly fond of singing this Aria for Tenor on private and + domestic occasions, such as this in the Stockholm Church. Few pieces + are more intimately associated with her memory by her own children. + +Footnote 162: + + _I.e._, the well-known Mr. J. A. Davison. + +Footnote 163: + + A small place taken by her for her parents. + +Footnote 164: + + From the _Illustrated London News_, Aug. 24th, 1850. + +Footnote 165: + + Otto Wichmann. + +Footnote 166: + + The Chevalier Charles Edward Habicht. + +Footnote 167: + + Page 444. + +Footnote 168: + + Walter Otto (born 5th August, 1853); Jenny M. C. (born 31st March, + 1857), now Mrs. Raymond Maude; Ernest S. D. (born 5th January, 1861). + +Footnote 169: + + She died, at Wynd’s Point, her cottage on the Malvern Hills, on + November 2nd, 1887. + +Footnote 170: + + ‘Abt Vogler,’ by Robert Browning. + + + LONDON: + PRINTED BY WILLIAM CLOWES AND SONS, LIMITED + STAMFORD STREET AND CHARING CROSS. + +------------------------------------------------------------------------ + + + + + TRANSCRIBER’S NOTES + + + Page Changed from Changed to + + 220 6th, and proceed with him down 26th, and proceed with him down + the Rhine to Aix-la-Chapelle the Rhine to Aix-la-Chapelle + + ● Fixed typos; non-standard spelling and dialect retained. + ● Renumbered footnotes and moved them all to the end of the final + chapter. + ● Enclosed italics font in _underscores_. + ● The caret (^) is used to indicate superscript as in 2^d. + ● Images without captions use HTML alt text. + +*** END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK 78803 *** |