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.