Jenny Lind gliding down the stage with consummate
grace, — she never seemed to walk, — amid the acclama-
tions of the audience ; a girlish figure of medium height,
with fair hair and blue eyes, gowned in velvet, and
wearing a single rose in her hair. She was plain of
feature, and yet her face was expressive and in a sense
fascinating. It was a wholesome face. She may not
have been beautiful, judged by the conventional beauty
tests ; but if not extremely good-looking, she " looked
good," as some one has said. And that goodness drew
every one to her, and she was " Jenny " with every one,
— not Signora Lind, or Mademoiselle Lind, or Miss Lind,
but Jenny Lind, as we say Annie Cary or Lilli Leh-
mann. Her voice, as I remember it, was of full volume



24 MUSICAL MEMORIES

and extraordinary range, and had a peculiar penetrating
quality also, because of its purity, which made its faintest
tone clearly audible and enabled her to use exquisitely
soft pianissimos. Her high notes were as clear as a
lark's, and her full voice was rich and sonorous. Her
singing was genial and sympathetic and marked by
the fervor and devotional quality which characterized
her nature. It evinced a noble musical endowment
and great reverence for her art. She was little af-
fected by adulation, but acknowledged the wild, frantic
applause courteously and with evident pleasure. Bene-
dict, her leader, said " she made a conscience of her
music." The strong intellectual quality of her nature,
as well as her aversion to gewgaws and shams, her deep
religious feeling, her simplicity of manner, and her good-
ness of heart, as shown by her numerous acts of benevo-
lence, confirm the truth of his statement. It seems to
me that in a rare manner she combined art, love, and
genius, and that she was actuated by the lofty purpose
of using them for the good of others. How grandly
she succeeded !

" Ik Marvel " and George William Curtis were the
literary idols of youth in the fifties. The former said
of her in his charming " Lorgnette " : " She is a large-
souled woman, with not an affectation of the stage or
one mimicry of feeling — only Jenny, as the God who
made the people of the pine lands as well as the people
of the olives fashioned her ; and if the amateurs can
mend her, they may." And George "William Curtis
eloquently said of her, years after the fever had burned
itself out : " The youth of her day have borne her in




Jenny Lind



TESTIMONY OF HER GREAT CONTEMPORARIES 25

their hearts across a generation, and their hearts still
rise at the mention of her name, as the Garde du Roi
sprang up cheering to their feet when the Queen ap-
peared." I was one of those youths, and I have borne
her in my heart and memory across two generations
and she remains for me still the one peerless singer I
have heard on the concert stage.

What did some of the great ones think of Jenny Lind
in her own day ? Chopin said : " She does not show
herself in the ordinary light, but in the magic rays of
the aurora borealis. Her singing is infallibly pure and
true and has an indescribable charm." Lablache said
to Queen Victoria : " I can say I have never heard any-
thing like her singing," and to Grisi, " Every note was
a pearl," a remark which Grisi may not have relished.
Clara Schumann said : " What a great, heaven-inspired
being she is ! What a pure, true artist soul ! Her songs
will ever sound in my heart." And Mendelssohn said :
" She is as great an artist as ever lived and the greatest
I have known."

Surely these should know.



CHAPTER II
SONTAG, ALBONI, THILLON, HAYES

A FLIGHT OF SONGBIRDS — HENRIETTE SONTAG — HER NUMER-
OUS ADMIRERS — THE ROMANCE OF HER CAREER — MAR-
RIAGE TO COUNT ROSSI — HER PERSONAL APPEARANCE —
HER VOICE AND STYLE OF SINGING — TROUBLES IN HER
LAST DAYS — SUDDEN DEATH IN MEXICO — CRUEL REPORTS
OF A SCANDAL — SONTAG's RIVAL, ALBONI, THE GREAT CON-
TRALTO — HER FINISHED SINGING — ANNA THILLON —
GREAT SUCCESS IN " CROWN DIAMONDS" — HER BEAUTY
AND MAGNETISM — "KATE" HAYES — THE VICTIM OF
SPECULATORS — HER SUCCESS IN BALLADS

REPORTS from the United States must have in-
duced the belief among European songbirds that
Jenny Lind had discovered an inexhaustible mu-
sical and golden bonanza, for they began nocking over
here before her second tour was concluded. Among
them were four whom it was my good fortune to hear,
— Henriette Sontag (Countess Rossi), Marietta Alboni
(Countess Pepoli), and untitled Anna Thillon and
Catherine Hayes. They did not all have Jenny Lind's
good fortune, however, and two of them were bitterly
disappointed, as will appear. They only gleaned after
her abundant reaping.

Of these four, Sontag attracted most attention and
admiration, though Alboni was a better musician and
a more finished singer. Sontag's success was due in part



SONTAG'S MARRIAGE TO COUNT ROSSI 27

to her beauty and engaging manners. About the time
she came to this country (1852) Von Biilow aptly called
her " a forty-eight year old soubrette." She had a rep-
utation indeed as a fascinator long before her American
tour. Goethe in his seventy-eighth year, after meeting
her in Paris, said : " She must needs remain a sweet,
agreeable enjoyment," and Goethe was a judge of the
ewig iveibliche. He expressed no opinion of her sing-
ing, possibly because music generally confused him.
Apparently he knew little of the technic of the art
beyond what Bettina von Arnim told him. Rossini,
Cherubini, Boieldieu, Auber, De Beriot, and Walter
Scott were among her devoted admirers. She was lit-
erally pursued by some, among them Lord Clanwilliam,
British Ambassador at Berlin, who was so persistent in
his unwelcome attentions that he was called "Lord
Montag following Sontag." Her success was also due
in part to the romantic events in her career. Berlioz,
Weber, Liszt, and Beethoven were among her friends
and advisers. Liszt, who was always gallant, called
her " the Thalberg of Song," and Berlioz rather neatly
discriminated when he said, " She was first in her class,
but the class was not the first." At the very zenith of
her career, while enjoying the plaudits of the multitude,
the friendship of great musicians, and the adulation of
titled and untitled admirers, Sontag attracted the atten-
tion of Count Rossi, an Italian diplomat, who wooed
her with such ardor that they were speedily married.
They went immediately to The Hague, where he was
representing Sardinia. The King of Prussia granted
her the patent of nobility, whereupon she retired from



28 MUSICAL MEMORIES

the stage. After a quiet life of eighteen years together,
reverses overtook them. She lost her fortune and de-
cided to return to the stage, and Count Rossi resigned
his position so that he might be at liberty to accompany
her. As it eventuated, he might better have remained
at home and permitted her to be wage-earner under
some competent manager.

They came to this country in 1852, bringing with
them Pozzolini, tenor, and Badiali, barytone. The
stories of her great success abroad, of her remarkable
beauty, and of the romance of her career, had preceded
her and aroused much interest. Her reception was
cordial, but there was no "fever," as in the case of
Jenny Lind. As I remember Sontag, she was a blonde,
somewhat slight of figure, with large, bright blue eyes
and hair inclining towards auburn in color. I am
quite sure I am right about this, as I have a little lock
of her hair which came from Germany in a letter writ-
ten by Sontag to a friend — I think I am justified in the
belief that it did not come from any chambermaid's hair-
brush. As she was very pretty and her toilettes were
elegant, she of course became the fashionable rage and
was guest of honor at innumerable society functions.
Her carriage was exceedingly graceful and her manner
on the stage sprightly, coquettish, and fascinating. Von
Bulow was right when he called her " a forty-eight year
old soubrette." She was about that age when I saw
her, and her elegance of manner and personal charms
are still vivid in my recollection. In these respects she
was the Sembrich of her day. Her voice was an ex-
quisitely pure high soprano, with a mezzo piano in it



SUDDEN DEATH IN MEXICO 29

which Nilsson afterwards used so effectively. Her exe-
cution was graceful and refined, and her style must have
lent itself best to roles requiring coquetry and archness,
like Martha, Rosina, or Amina.

Poor Sontag's fate was a sorrowful one. Prima
donnas' husbands are notorious mischief-makers and
intermeddlers, if not hoodoos, for their wives, and im-
presarios always dread them. The bonanza in her case
proved to be rich in troubles. She had to contend in
the first place against Alboni, greatest of contraltos,
and, beautiful and fascinating as she was, she could not
make headway against her. Count Rossi kept her in
litigations, so irascible was he, as well as ignorant of
stage matters. Yielding to his importunities and dis-
regarding the advice of friends, they went to Mexico
at a time when the cholera was epidemic there. After
a performance of "Lucrezia Borgia," she suddenly
caught the disease and died in a few hours.* Six others
of her troupe, among them Pozzolini, her tenor, were
also victims. I well remember the excitement which
was caused when the first report came that Count Rossi,
furious at a scandal which concerned his wife and Poz-
zolini, had poisoned them both. Perhaps the report, in
some indirect manner, may have grown out of the Bor-
gia poisoning scene in the opera. Reports of many
apparently startling events have had as absurd a foun-
dation. In time, however, it was well established that
she had died of cholera. She now rests in peace in the
convent cemetery of St. Marienthal, near Dresden, by
the side of her loved sister, who was a nun there,

* June 17, 1854.



30 MUSICAL MEMORIES

secluded from the world in which the Countess had had
such a brilliant career.

Sontag' s dangerous rival was Marietta Alboni, the
greatest contralto of her time, and indeed of her century.
She had also been a rival of Jenny Lind in London
before the latter abandoned the operatic stage. She
was the greatest of contraltos in a double sense, for
besides being a most finished singer, with a glorious
voice, she was blessed with a most generous degree
of corpulency, which, however, did not detract from
her singing or prejudice her admirers against her.
I remember her even more distinctly than Sontag, for
it is impossible to forget either her proportions or her
voice. She could not be called handsome, like Sontag,
nor could she glide gracefully over the stage, like Jenny
Lind, and yet her face wore a genial and good-naturedly
attractive expression, and she carried herself with a cer-
tain dignity and high-bred manner that soon made you
forget her embonpoint. Her voice was full, rich, and
sonorous, of extraordinary range, and, for so big a voice,
of unusual flexibility. Moreover she was musical, — a
quality not always found in great singers. That is, she
sang with great feeling, with an intellectual comprehen-
sion, as evinced by her interpretation of sentiment and
idea, with absolute accuracy, with pure, clear enuncia-
tion, and with instrumental facility and finish, much
in the style Madame Schumann-Heink sings to-day.
Sontag charmed every one ; Alboni specially charmed
musical people.

And next came Anna Thillon, an English girl, whose
maiden name was Hunt, and who married Monsieur




Henriette Sontag
Marietta Alboni



Kate Hayes
Anna Thillon



ANNA THILLON 31

Thillon, her French music-teacher. I wonder if there
are any of the old fellows left, who have presumed to
live beyond the Osier limit, who heard Thillon when I
did in the early fifties, and who were carried off their
feet, as I was, when I heard her in " Crown Diamonds,"
which Auber wrote for her. I wonder if they remember
how furiously they applauded when Catarina sang that
bravura aria, " Love ! at once I break thy fetters," or the
cavatina, " Love dwelleth with me," and how they fan-
cied she was looking at and singing to them only. I
wonder if they still recall the lustre of her hair and its
ravishing curls (there were no colossal pompadours then),
the flash of her eyes, and the elegance of her figure. If
there are any of them left, be sure they will rise again
at the sound of her name and declare to a man there
never was such a fascinator on the stage. She was by
no means a great singer compared with those of whom
I have been writing. Indeed, they say she could not
begin to sing the role of Catarina as well as Louise
Pyne, who really first made the success of "Crown
Diamonds." And yet she was one who cannot be for-
gotten. Though English, she was a beauty of the Span-
ish type. She had a rich olive-hued skin, glorious black
hair, and dark lustrous eyes, which languished sensuously
and flashed wickedly. She was one to rave over because
of her personal grace and fascinating eyes ; and all golden
youths, and some youths who were not golden, conse-
quently raved. There may be some of these youths still
left, with gray or whitening polls, who as they recall her
will echo Villon's plaint, "Where are the snows of yester
year ? " and wonder if there are such divinities now.



32 MUSICAL MEMORIES

The last of the four songbirds is poor Catherine or
" Kate " Hayes. There was no bonanza for her. She
was mistreated, mismanaged, and duped. She was an
Irish girl, and when she left for this country her ad-
mirers thronged the quay and Thackeray bade her good-
bye in some graceful words. She was the victim of
speculators, who foolishly tried to boom her after the
Barnum style, but without Barnum' s judgment and
knowledge of human nature. Because Barnum called
Jenny Lind " the Swedish Nightingale," they advertised
"Kate" Hayes as "the Swan of Erin." They set all
manner of silly stories afloat about her and extrava-
gantly advertised her virtues, goodness, and benevolence,
as Barnum had done for Jenny Lind. But it was of
no avail. As her concerts were not profitable, she re-
mained but a short time in the East, and then went to
San Francisco, where the people had not been surfeited
with music, as it was too far off for singers and too
expensive to get there. So she had a few months of
success and then went back to Europe. " Kate " Hayes
had an ethereal kind of beauty and a very pleasant
voice, and while she had not achieved much success as
an operatic singer, few in her day could sing songs and
ballads more delightfully. It was a rare treat to hear
her sing Tom Moore's lyrics. She deserved a better
fate. It was a brilliant galaxy, these five artists of the
fifties whom I have recalled, but I am not through with
that period yet. I came to Chicago in the early fifties
and met a little singer first entering her teens, whose
name is writ large in the operatic history of this
country.



CHAPTER III
ADELINA PATTI

PATTI'S FAMILY — HER CAREER — CONCERTIZING WITH OLE BULL
— THE CONTRACT WITH MAPLESON — CONCERTS IN THE
FIFTIES — HER FIRST CONCERT IN CHICAGO — HER LOVE
OF DOLLS — CHARACTERISTICS OF THE CHILD PRIMA DONNA

THE MAPLESON - ABBEY COMPETITION — THE PATTI

MARRIAGES — HER SUCCESS AS A VOCALIST — THE FARE-
WELL HABIT — AT THE AUDITORIUM DEDICATION

ADELINA PATTI has recently retired from the
stage and is now living in the enjoyment of
an ample fortune, for, unlike many of the
prima donnas of her time, she has provided for the
rainy days. Her career has been exceptionally long;
her stage life a continuous triumph. In a remote way
she can be affiliated with Jenny Lind, for though but
a mere child when she heard the great Swedish singer,
she imitated her manner of singing so closely that her
parents at once put her under musical instructors. It
seems but yesterday that she was in her prime, and yet
she was a public singer fifty-five years ago. So, with
apologies for even suggesting a lady's age, I must assign
her to the period of the fifties, — a young contemporary
of Jenny Lind, Sontag, and Alboni.

I must say a little about her family, for its history
throws some light upon her musical environment and
heredity. There was not an impulse, an influence, or a
purpose in her early life which was not musical. These



34 MUSICAL MEMORIES

are the facts as told to me years ago by Maurice Stra-
kosch, her brother-in-law. Her mother was Catarina
Chiesa, a prima donna, who married Barili, her teacher.
After his death she married Salvatore Patti, and as
Catarina Barili-Patti she sang in this country with con-
siderable success. The mother must have been a more
dramatic singer than Adelina, for Norma was her best
role.

Adelina's brothers and sisters were — Antonio, Ni-
colo, Ettore, Clotilde, Carlos, Amalia, and Carlotta.
Antonio, the eldest, born in Rome, was both composer
and director, and ended his days in New York as a
teacher. Nicolo was a basso of considerable reputation.
Ettore was a barytone, and became a teacher after his
retirement from the stage. He sang with Adelina in
Chicago as early as 1855, and again in 1859 in opera,
when he appeared in " Rigoletto." Clotilde made her
operatic debut at nineteen. She was a creature " of
fire and dew," and so enraged aristocratic old Colonel
Thorne of New York by marrying his son, that the
young pair fled from his wrath to Peru. Little was
heard of them afterwards, except that the husband died
at sea and Clotilde followed him a few years later at
Matanzas, Cuba. I will speak of Amalia, Carlotta, and
Carlos in the next chapter, from personal acquaintance.

I must say a few words also about Adelina's career
before I record any impressions of her. She was born
in Madrid, of a Sicilian father and a Roman mother,
and never had a real home until in her later years she
reached that castle, so strongly fortified with conso-
nants, — Craig y nos, Ystradgynlais, Breconshire, South



ADELINA PATTFS CAREER 35

Wales. She is literally cosmopolitan and a child of the
theatre. Maurice Strakosch used to insist that she was
born in 1842, but she herself has always declared Feb-
ruary 19, 1843, to be the date of her birth. Her
mother, while playing the title role of Norma in
Madrid, was taken ill as the curtain rose on the last
act. The next morning Adelina's little feet awaited the
road that was to lead her to fame and fortune. Her
parents brought her to the United States in 1845, and
a year or two later they were identified with opera in
New York, under the management of Maretzek, who was
just beginning to experience the many ups and downs
of his checkered career. Adelina's first public appear-
ance was at a charity concert in 1851. Though she
was only in her eighth year, she had skill enough to
sing the " Ah ! non giunge " from " Sonnambula," and
the courage also to sing the " Echo Song," which Jenny
Lind was then making so popular. Two years later
she went West and sang in Chicago. She was in the
same city in 1855, concertizing with Paul Julien, the
violinist. In 1856 she made a concert tour with Mau-
rice Strakosch. During the tour she met Ole Bull in
Baltimore, and Strakosch induced him to join the com-
pany, which also included Morini, barytone ; Schreiber,
cornetist ; and Roth, pianist. She afterwards made a
short tour with Gottschalk, the pianist. On November
24, 1859, she made her operatic debut in New York in
the title role of Lucia. Ulmann, the impresario, at
first objected to her taking a leading role, because she
was so young and childish in figure, but at last he gave
his consent, and he never regretted it, for he found that



36 MUSICAL MEMORIES

this girl of sixteen had an exceptionally beautiful voice,
a brilliancy of execution equal to that of the older art-
ists, and that she was conversant with the leading roles
in " Sonnambula," " The Barber of Seville," " Traviata,"
" Martha," and a dozen more operas. Her knowledge
of languages was a great help to her at that time. As
she was destined for the stage, even in her infant days,
her parents gave special attention not only to her musi-
cal, but also to her linguistic, training. She could speak
French, Italian, and English fluently, and later she ac-
quired German and Spanish. In 1860 she made another
western tour with her sister Amalia, Brignoli, the tenor,
and the bassos, Ferri and Junca. In 1861 she went to
London and made her English debut. The metropolis
was wild over her. Then followed a series of triumphs
in Brussels, Berlin (where she sang in the same company
with Lucca), Amsterdam, The Hague, Paris, and Vienna.
In 1869 she was under engagement to Mapleson, senior,
and the Colonel once showed me a copy of the contract.
As I remember it, it provided that she should not sing
on days of travel or sickness ; that she should sing two
or three times a week, as she chose; that she might
select the operas in which she appeared ; and that her
remuneration should be $2500 a night, besides the
travelling expenses of herself, her husband, and four
other persons. This was liberal pay when it is consid-
ered that about this time Nilsson was paid $1000 for
each performance, with certain allowances, and that
Jenny Lind's first contract with Barnum called for
only $1000 and expenses. But Patti, it is reported,
has been paid as high as $5000 a night since those







Adelina Patti



ADELINA PATTI'S CAREER 37

days.* With her career since 1869 my readers are
sufficiently acquainted.

As will be seen by these brief statements of family
history and of her own career, Adelina Patti was born
in music and has lived in a musical atmosphere all her
life — and this means everything to a singer. She was
on the stage continuously from her eighth year to that
of her retirement. She was taken to the theatre when-
ever her mother sang, and the details of the stage were
firmly impressed upon her young mind. Sometimes its
proprieties were impressed upon her in other ways. Upon
one occasion, when her mother was singing in " Norma,"
Adelina went to the rehearsal, as she was to be one of
the children. Not content with her voiceless role, she
persisted in singing her mother's part, whereupon she
was soundly spanked before the company and the or-
chestra. I first heard her in the early fifties at the
Tremont House, Chicago, where she sang in a dining-
room concert. She was singing bravura arias with the
utmost ease and facility at an age when most children
are contented with " Twinkle, twinkle, little star." As
I recall her, I see a somewhat delicate, pale-faced,
dark-browed child, with thick glossy black hair hanging
in two long braids down her back, dressed in rose-
colored silk, pink stockings, and pantalettes. She is
perfectly at ease and glances around confidently, with a
mischievous smile lurking about her mouth, but reserv-
ing her special radiance for rows of young girls in the

* These are the prices said to be paid to several leading artists at the
present time: Melba, $3000; Caruso, $3000; Nordica, $2000; Schu-
mann-Heink, $1800; Fremstad, $1800; Sembrich, $1500; Eames, $1500;
Gadski, $1200 ; Plangon, $1200.



38 MUSICAL MEMORIES

front chairs, with some of whom she has made a hotel
acquaintance. Upon this occasion she followed up the
execution of a brilliant aria with a request most uncon-
ventionally made to her friend Nellie, who seemed to be
the favorite in the little diva's dominion, to come to her
room when the concert was over and get acquainted
with the sweetest doll in the world. At that time she
doted upon children, dolls, candy, and birds. She could
be induced to sing any time by the promise of a box of
candy or a bird in a cage. She was an imperious little
creature also. She hated encores as bitterly as Theodore
Thomas did. When they were called for, she would re-
fuse to give them. The insistence of the audience at
last would exasperate her, and she would shake her
head vigorously. Thereupon the amused audience would
redouble its efforts, only ceasing when she began to
manifest anger by stamping her little foot. It was a
gala season in Chicago when " Signora Adelina Patti "
was advertised to appear with Ole Bull at Tremont
Music Hall. Ole himself was comparatively young in
those days, but he looked ancient by the side of the as-
sisting prima donna in her short skirts. It was at this
period, by the way, that he began his dangerous practice
of farewelling. It rapidly grew into a habit, and at
last he could not shake it off. He gave plain farewells,
" grand " farewells, " last " farewells, " absolutely last "
farewells, and " positively last " farewells all the rest of