Chapter V: Departure (2)

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]

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: