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FAMOUS
SINGERS

LAHEE

[Illustration: _Calve as Santuzza_.]




Famous Singers of To-day
and Yesterday

By
Henry C. Lahee

_ILLUSTRATED_

[Illustration: logo]

Boston
L. C. Page and Company
(Incorporated)
1898

_Copyright, 1898_
BY L. C. PAGE AND COMPANY

(INCORPORATED)


Colonial Press:
Electrotyped and Printed by C. H. Simonds & Co.
Boston, U. S. A.




CONTENTS.

CHAPTER                                          PAGE

         PREFACE                                  vii

    I.   FROM 1600 TO 1800 A.D.                    11

   II.   PASTA TO MARIO                            41

  III.   MARIO TO TIETIENS                         77

   IV.   PRIMA DONNAS OF THE FIFTIES              110

    V.   PRIMA DONNAS OF THE SIXTIES              143

   VI.   PRIMA DONNAS OF THE SEVENTIES            186

  VII.   PRIMA DONNAS OF THE EIGHTIES             220

 VIII.   TENORS AND BARITONES                     260

   IX.   CONTRALTOS AND BASSOS                    296

         CHRONOLOGICAL TABLE OF FAMOUS SINGERS    325

         INDEX                                    333




ILLUSTRATIONS

                                         PAGE

CALVE AS SANTUZZA              _Frontispiece_

JENNY LIND                                 84

JEAN DE RESZKE AS ROMEO                    98

ADELINA PATTI                             128

NILSSON AS VALENTINE                      162

LILLIAN NORDICA                           220

MELBA AS OPHELIA                          244

EMMA EAMES                                258

EDOUARD DE RESZKE AS MEPHISTOPHELES       272

ALVARY IN RIGOLETTO                       280

SOFIA SCALCHI                             300

PLANCON AS RAMFIS IN AIDA                 318




PREFACE.


It has been the desire of the author to give, in a book of modest
dimensions, as complete a record as possible of the "Famous Singers"
from the establishment of Italian Opera down to the present day. The
majority are opera singers, but in a few cases oratorio and concert
singers of exceptional celebrity have been mentioned also.

To give complete biographical sketches of all singers of renown would
require a work of several large volumes, and all that can be attempted
here is to give a mere "bird's-eye view" of those whose names exist as
singers of international repute.

For much information concerning the earlier celebrities the author is
indebted to Clayton's "Queens of Song," "Great Singers" by Ferris, and
"The Prima Donna" by Sutherland Edwards, in which interesting volumes
much will be found at length which is greatly condensed in this little
volume. To Maurice Strakosch's "Souvenirs d'un Impresario," and to
"Mapleson's Memoirs," the writer owes something also in the way of
anecdote and fact concerning many singers of the latter half of this
century.

As it is impossible to give biographical sketches of more than a
comparatively small number of singers who have achieved renown, the work
is supplemented by a chronological table which is more comprehensive. No
such table can, however, be perfect. For singers of the past the
following authorities have been used: "Grove's Dictionary of Music and
Musicians," C. Egerton Lowe's "Chronological Cyclopaedia of Musicians
and Musical Events," James D. Brown's "Biographical Dictionary of
Musicians," and "A Hundred Years of Music in America."

Concerning singers of later times, who have risen to fame since those
works were compiled, such items have been used as could be found in the
newspapers and magazines of their day, and the information is of
necessity imperfect. It is nevertheless hoped that the table may be of
some use as carrying the history of famous singers some years beyond
anything hitherto published in book form, and it has been the desire of
the author to make the book interesting alike to student and amateur.




FAMOUS SINGERS OF TO-DAY AND YESTERDAY.




CHAPTER I.

FROM 1600 TO 1800 A. D.


The year 1600 marked the beginning of a new era in musical history, for
in that year the first public performance of regular opera took place in
Florence, when the "Eurydice" of Rinuccini and Peri was given in honor
of the wedding of Marie de' Medici and Henry IV. of France. The growth
and ever-increasing popularity of the opera, the development of
civilization, the increase of wealth and the population of new
countries, have led not only to the highest cultivation of the human
voice, wherein music exerts its greatest power of fascination, but have
brought forward hundreds of competitors for the artistic laurels which
are the reward of those who reach the highest state of musical
perfection.

For nearly a century opera was confined to the continent of Europe, but
in 1691 Margarita de L'Epine, a native of Tuscany, appeared in London.
She was remarkable for her plainness of speech and of features, her
rough manners and swarthy appearance, and she must indeed have been
possessed of a fine voice to have been able to retain her hold on public
favor. In 1692 she announced her last appearance, but it was so
successful that she kept on giving last appearances and did not leave
England for several years, thus inaugurating a custom which is observed
to the present day. Margarita married the celebrated Doctor Pepusch.

Contemporary with her was Katharine Tofts, an English woman, for an
account of whom we are indebted to Colley Cibber, the great critic and
playwright. She was a very beautiful woman with an exquisitely clear,
sweet voice. Her career was short, for, after having achieved a
tremendous success in one of her parts, she became demented, and, though
eventually cured, she never returned to the stage. There was a lively
rivalry between the two singers, which furnished gossip for the town.

Anastasia Robinson, mild and pleasing in manners, with great sweetness
of expression and large blue eyes, was engaged to sing by George
Frederick Haendel, who at that time was the impresario of the London
opera. Other singers he engaged in Dresden, of whom Margherita
Durastanti was the soprano. Large, coarse, and masculine, she is said to
have been distinguished as much for the high respectability of her
character as for her musical talent. Senesino was considered the
leading tenor singer of his day. He was a man of imposing figure and
majestic carriage, with a clear, powerful, equal, and fluent voice. The
basso was Boschi, who was chiefly remarkable for a voice of immense
volume and a very vigorous style of acting.

Anastasia Robinson was eclipsed, after a career of twelve years, by
Francesca Cuzzoni, and married the Earl of Peterborough. She left a
reputation for integrity and goodness seldom enjoyed by even the highest
celebrities. Cuzzoni made an immediate and immense success, and Haendel
took great pains to compose airs adapted to display her exquisite voice.
She, in return, treated him with insolence and caprice, so that he
looked about for another singer. His choice fell upon Faustina Bordoni,
a Venetian lady who had risen to fame in Italy. She was elegant in
figure, agreeable in manners, and had a handsome face. Cuzzoni, on the
other hand, was ill made and homely, and her temper was turbulent and
obstinate. A bitter rivalry at once sprang up, Haendel fanning the flame
by composing for Bordoni as diligently as he had previously done for
Cuzzoni.

The public was soon divided, and the rivalry was carried to an absurd
point. At length the singers actually came to blows, and so fierce was
the conflict that the bystanders were unable to separate them until each
combatant bore substantial marks of the other's esteem. Cuzzoni was then
dispensed with, and went to Vienna. She was reckless and extravagant,
and was at several times imprisoned for debt, finally dying in frightful
indigence after subsisting by button making,--a sad termination of a
brilliant career. Bordoni led a prosperous life, married Adolfo Hasse,
the director of the orchestra in Dresden, sang before Frederick the
Great, and passed a comfortable old age. Both she and her husband died
in 1783, she at the age of eighty-three and he at eighty-four.

Other singers of this period were Lavinia Fenton, who became the Duchess
of Bolton, and who is chiefly remarkable for having been the original
Polly in Gay's "Beggar's Opera;" Marthe le Rochois, who sang many of
Lulli's operas,--a woman of ordinary appearance but wonderful magnetism;
Madame La Maupin, one of the wildest, most adventurous and reckless
women ever on the stage; and Caterina Mingotti, a faultless singer, of
respectable habits. Mingotti was seized with the fatal ambition to
manage opera, and soon reached the verge of bankruptcy. She contrived,
however, to earn enough by singing during the succeeding five years to
support her respectably in her old age.

To this period also belongs Farinelli, or Broschi, who was the greatest
tenor of his age, perhaps the greatest who ever lived, for we are told
that there was no branch of his art which he did not carry to the
highest pitch of perfection. His career of three years in London was a
continuous triumph, and he is said to have made L5,000 each year,--a
very large sum in those days. His singing also restored to health Philip
V. of Spain, who was a prey to depression, and neglected all the affairs
of his kingdom. At the court of Spain his influence became immense until
Charles III. ascended the throne, when Farinelli quitted Spain, "at the
royal suggestion," and retired to Bologna.

Of the long list of men who have distinguished themselves as singers in
opera, it is curious to note that almost, if not quite, the first were a
Mario and a Nicolini, names which are familiar to us as belonging to
well-known tenors of this (nineteenth) century. Of Mario but little is
recorded; but Nicolini, whose full name was Nicolino Grimaldi Nicolini,
and who was born in 1673, is known to have sung at Rome in 1694. He
remained on the stage until 1726, but the date of his death is unknown.
Nicolini sang in England in 1708, and at several subsequent times, and
was well received. Addison wrote of him, concerning his acting, that "he
gave new majesty to kings, resolution to heroes, and softness to
lovers."

Caterina Gabrielli was the daughter of a cook of the celebrated Cardinal
Gabrielli, and was born at Rome, November 12, 1730. She possessed an
unusual share of beauty, a fine voice, and an accurate ear. She made her
first appearance when seventeen years old at the theatre of Lucca, in
Galuppi's opera, "Sofonisba." She was intelligent and witty, full of
liveliness and grace, and an excellent actress. Her voice, though not
powerful, was of exquisite quality and wonderful extent, its compass
being nearly two octaves and a half, and perfectly equable throughout,
while her facility of vocalization was extraordinary. Her fame was
immediately established, and soon she had all mankind at her feet; but
she proved to be coquettish, deceitful, and extravagant. No matter with
whom she came in contact, she compelled them to give way to her whims.
On one occasion she refused to sing for the viceroy of Sicily, and was
therefore committed to prison for twelve days, where she gave costly
entertainments, paid the debts of her fellow prisoners, and distributed
large sums amongst the indigent. Besides this, she sang all her best
songs in her finest style every day, until the term of her imprisonment
expired, when she came forth amid the shouts of the grateful poor whom
she had benefited while in jail. Despite her extravagance Gabrielli had
a good heart. She gave largely in charity, and never forgot her parents.
Having by degrees lost both voice and beauty, Gabrielli retired finally
to Bologna in 1780, and died there in April, 1796, at the age of
sixty-six.

In the room in Paris in which the unfortunate Admiral Coligny had been
murdered, was born on February 14, 1744, the beautiful, witty, but
dissipated Sophie Arnould. At the age of twelve her voice, which was
remarkable for power and purity, attracted the attention of the Princess
de Modena, through whose influence she was engaged to sing in the king's
chapel. In 1757 she made her first appearance in opera, when her beauty
and her acting enabled her to carry everything before her.

The opera was besieged whenever her name was announced, and all the
gentlemen of Paris contested for the honor of throwing bouquets at her
feet. At length she eloped with Count Lauraguais, a handsome, dashing
young fellow, full of wit and daring. Her home resembled a little court,
of which she was the reigning sovereign, and her salon was always
crowded by men of the highest distinction. When Benjamin Franklin
arrived in Paris, he confessed that nowhere did he find such pleasure,
such wit, such brilliancy, as in the salon of Mlle. Arnould. She
remained faithful to her lover for four years, when he bestowed on her a
life-pension of 2,000 crowns. While she never spared any one in the
exercise of her wit, she was occasionally the subject of ridicule
herself, as, for instance, when the Abbe Galiani was asked his opinion
of her singing, and replied, "It is the finest asthma I ever heard."

Sophie Arnould appeared in several of Gluck's operas, and acquitted
herself to the satisfaction of the composer. Her voice had not
apparently fulfilled early expectations, but her beauty and her acting
made her a success. When Voltaire one day said to her, "Ah,
mademoiselle, I am eighty-four years old, and I have committed
eighty-four follies," she replied, "A mere trifle; I am not yet forty,
and I have committed more than a thousand."

In 1792 she purchased the presbytere of Clignancourt, Luzarches
(Seine-et-Oise). She had a fortune of 30,000 livres and innumerable
friends, but in less than two years she had lost her fortune, and her
friends being dispersed by exile, imprisonment, and the scaffold during
the Revolution, she was reduced to the lowest stage of poverty. She went
to Paris and sought an interview with Fouche, now a great man, who had
been one of her most ardent admirers. He awarded her a pension of 2,400
livres, and ordered that apartments should be given her in the Hotel
d'Angevilliers. In 1803 she died in obscurity.

Among the celebrated male singers of this period were Gasparo
Pacchierotti, and Giovanni Battista Rubinelli. The former of these was
considered to have been the finest singer of the latter part of the
eighteenth century. Endowed with a vivid imagination, uncommon
intelligence, and profound sensibility, a tall and lean figure, a voice
which was often uncertain and nasal, he required much determination and
strength of character to overcome the defects and take advantage of the
good qualities which nature had bestowed upon him. Yet he is described
by Lord Mt. Edgecumbe as "decidedly the most perfect singer it ever fell
to his lot to hear."

Rubinelli, on the other hand, from his fullness of voice and simplicity
of style pleased a greater number than Pacchierotti, though none perhaps
so exquisitely as that singer. Rubinelli's articulation was so pure and
well accented that in his recitatives no one conversant with the Italian
language ever had occasion to look at a libretto while he was singing.
His style was true cantabile, in which he was unexcelled.

Upon the retirement of Sophie Arnould a new star appeared in the person
of Antoinette Cecile Clavel St. Huberty, the daughter of a brave old
soldier who was also a musician. Her first appearances in opera were
made in Warsaw, where her father, M. Clavel, was engaged as repetitor to
a French company. From Warsaw she went to Berlin, where she married a
certain Chevalier de Croisy, after which she sang for three years at
Strasbourg. At last she went to Paris, where she appeared in 1777 in
Gluck's "Armida." Madame St. Huberty did not rush meteor-like into
public favor. Her success was gained after years of patient labor,
during which she endured bitter poverty, and sang only minor parts. In
person she was small, thin, and fair; her features were not finely
formed, and her mouth was of unusual size, but her countenance was
expressive. In 1783 she reached the summit of her success, when she
appeared in the title role of Piccini's opera, "Dodon." Louis XVI., who
did not much care for opera, had it performed twice, and was so much
pleased that he granted Madame St. Huberty a pension of 1,500 livres, to
which he added one of five hundred more from his privy purse. Concerning
her performance of this part we are told by Grimm, "Never has there been
united acting more captivating, a sensibility more perfect, singing more
exquisite, happier byplay, and more noble abandon."

In 1790 Madame St. Huberty retired from the operatic stage and married
Count d'Entraigues. After a political career in Spain and Russia, during
which the count and his wife passed through some trying vicissitudes,
they settled in England, but on the 22d of July, 1812, both the count
and countess were assassinated by a servant, who had been bribed by an
agent of Fouche to obtain certain papers in their possession.

Gertrude Elizabeth Mara was the daughter of Johann Schmaling, a
respectable musician of Hesse Cassel. Her mother died shortly after her
birth in 1749, but her father out of his limited means gave her the best
education he could. As she was considered a prodigy her father took her
from town to town till they reached Holland, where, after performing for
some time, they went to England. Thence, after earning some money by
giving concerts, they travelled to Germany, arriving at Leipzig in 1766,
where the young singer obtained an engagement at the theatre as first
singer, at a salary of six hundred dollars. From this time she continued
to prosper, and she quite captivated that opinionated monarch, Frederick
the Great.

In 1773 she fell in love with, and married, a handsome violoncellist
named Jean Mara. He was a showy, extravagant man, and fell into
dissipated habits, but through all Madame Mara was devoted to him.

Her personal appearance was far from striking. She was short and
insignificant, with an agreeable, good-natured countenance. Her manner,
however, was prepossessing, though she was an indifferent actress. But
her voice atoned for everything. Its compass was from G to E in
altissimo, which she ran with the greatest ease and force, the tones
being at once powerful and sweet. Her success she owed to her untiring
industry. Nothing taxed her powers, her execution was easy and neat, her
shake was true, open, and liquid, and though she preferred brilliant
pieces, her refined taste was well known.

In England she gathered many laurels, as well as in Germany and other
countries which she visited, but she came into collision with the
authorities at Oxford, on account of her ignorance of the English
language and of Oxford customs.

On leaving England she sang at a farewell concert which netted seven
hundred pounds, and her rival, Mrs. Billington, generously gave her
services. Madame Mara passed the last years of her life at Revel, where
she died, January, 1833, at the age of eighty-five. On the celebration
of her eighty-third birthday she was offered a poetical tribute by no
less a person than Goethe.

Of Madame Mara's contemporary male singers Luigi Marchesi is entitled to
mention, for he had, within three years of his debut, the reputation of
being the best singer in Italy. He visited all Europe, even penetrating
to St. Petersburg, in company with Sarti and Todi. Besides his wonderful
vocal powers, which enabled him to execute the most marvellous
embellishments, he was noted for great beauty of person, and for the
grace and propriety of his gestures.

Crescentini, too, who was considered the last great singer of his
school, sang at all the chief cities of Europe, and was given by
Napoleon the Iron Cross, an honor which aroused many jealousies.
"Nothing could exceed," says Fetis, "the suavity of his tones, the force
of his expression, the perfect taste of his ornaments, or the large
style of his phrasing." For several years after his retirement he was a
professor at the Royal College of Music at Naples.

Mrs. Elizabeth Billington was considered to be the finest singer ever
born in England. Her father was a member of the Italian Opera orchestra
named Weichsel, and her mother, a pupil of John Christian Bach, was a
leading vocalist at Vauxhall, whose voice was noted for a certain
reediness of tone, caused, it is said, by her having practised with the
oboe,--her husband's instrument.

Elizabeth Weichsel was born in 1770, and began to compose pieces for the
pianoforte when eleven years of age. At fourteen, she appeared at a
concert at Oxford. She continued her study of the piano under Thomas
Billington, one of the band of Drury Lane, to whom she was married in
1785, in opposition to the wishes of her parents. They were very poor,
and went to Dublin to seek engagements, and here Mrs. Billington
appeared at a theatre in Smock Alley, singing with the celebrated
Tenduccini. Her early efforts were not crowned with the greatest
success, but she did better at Waterford, and later on, when she
returned to London, she was still more successful.

Her voice was a pure soprano, sweet rather than powerful, of
extraordinary extent and quality in its upper notes, in which it had
somewhat the tone color of a flute or flageolet. In her manner she was
peculiarly bewitching. Her face and figure were beautiful, and her
countenance full of good humor, but she had comparatively little talent
as an actress. In 1786 she first appeared at Covent Garden, in the
presence of the king and queen, and her success was beyond her most
sanguine anticipations. She sang in a resplendently brilliant style,
and brilliancy was an innovation in English singing.

Mrs. Billington one day received a great compliment from Haydn, the
composer. Reynolds, the painter, was finishing her portrait, and Haydn,
on seeing it, said: "You have made a mistake. You have represented Mrs.
Billington listening to the angels; you should have made the angels
listening to her."

In 1796, while in Italy, Mr. Billington died in a sudden and mysterious
manner. Soon afterwards his widow went to Milan, where she fell in love
with a Frenchman, the son of a banker in Lyons, named Felican. He was a
remarkably handsome man, but no sooner were they married (in 1799) than
he commenced to treat her most brutally, and eventually she was obliged
to run away from him. She returned to London under the care of her
brother.

On reaching London, a lively competition for her services began between
Harris and Sheridan, the theatrical managers. She gave the preference to
Harris, and received L3,000 to sing three times a week, also a free
benefit was ensured at L500, and a place for her brother as leader of
the band. Eventually, however, the dispute was ended by arbitration, and
it was decided that she should sing alternately at each house. At the
height of her popularity Mrs. Billington is said to have averaged an
income of L14,000 a year.

She retired from the stage on March 30, 1806, on which occasion she was
the first to introduce Mozart's music into England, giving the opera,
"Clemenza di Tito," of which there was only one manuscript copy in
England. That belonged to the Prince of Wales, who lent it for the
occasion. After a separation of fifteen years, Mrs. Billington was
reunited to her second husband, but he at once resumed his brutal
treatment, and her death, in 1818, was caused by a blow from his hand.

One of the most popular and charming singers at La Scala, in the
Carnival of 1794, was Giuseppa Grassini, the daughter of a farmer of
Varese in Lombardy, where she was born in 1775. She received decided
advantages by making her debut with some of the greatest artists of her
time,--Marchesi, Crescentini, and Lazzarini.

Grassini was an exquisite vocalist in spite of her ignorance, and albeit
fickle and capricious, a most beautiful and fascinating
woman,--luxurious, prodigal, and generous, but heavy and dull in
conversation. Her voice was originally a soprano, but changed to a deep
contralto. It was rich, round, and full, though of limited compass,
being confined within about one octave of good natural notes. Her style
was rich and finished, and though she had not much execution, what she
did was elegant and perfect. She never attempted anything beyond her
powers, her dramatic instincts were always true, and in the expression
of the subdued and softer passions she has never been excelled. Her
figure was tall and commanding, and her carriage and attitudes had a
classic beauty combined with a grace peculiarly her own. Her head was
noble, her features were symmetrical, her hair and eyes of the deepest
black, and her entire appearance had an air of singular majesty.

Napoleon invited her to Paris, where she soon became an object of
inveterate dislike to the Empress Josephine. In 1804, returning to Paris
after a visit to Berlin, Napoleon made her directress of the Opera. In
the same year she visited London, singing alternately with Mrs.
Billington. In London she did not make a great success, and when her
benefit took place she asked the good-natured Mrs. Billington to sing,
fearing that she would not succeed alone. In succeeding seasons,
however, Grassini grew in public favor, and on reappearing in England,
in 1812, she was rapturously received, but her powers were now on the
wane, and at the end of the season she departed unregretted. For some
years longer she sang in Italy, Holland, and Austria, retiring about
1823.

She married Colonel Ragani, afterwards director of the Opera in Paris,
and resided for many years in that city. She died in Milan in 1850, at
the mature age of eighty-five.

Charles Benjamin Incledon and John Braham were two English singers of
renown who came into prominence about the same time. Incledon began as a
choir boy in Exeter Cathedral, after which he went into the navy, where
his voice developed into a fine tenor. Leaving the sea, he studied
singing, and soon became popular. His natural voice was full and open,
and was sent forth without the slightest artifice, and when he sang
pianissimo his voice retained its original quality. His style of
singing was bold and manly, mixed with considerable feeling, and he
excelled in ballads. In 1817 he visited America, where he was well
received.

The career of John Braham is of interest to all who love the traditions
of English music. In his early days he was so poor that he was obliged
to sell pencils for a living, but his musical talent being discovered by
Leoni, a teacher of repute, who took him under his tutelage, he appeared
at the age of thirteen at Covent Garden. At the age of about twenty he
was fitted for the Italian stage, and at once made his mark. Even
Crescentini, who was placed in the background, acknowledged Braham's
talent, and when he sang in Italy his name was freely quoted as being
one of the greatest living singers. As he grew older he attained a
prodigious reputation, never before equalled in England, and whether
singing a simple ballad, in oratorio, or in the grandest dramatic
music, the largeness and nobility of his style were matched by a voice
which in its prime was almost peerless. Braham amassed a large fortune,
and then aspired to be a manager, an experiment which quickly reduced
him to poverty. In 1840 he visited America, and made a grand operatic
and concert tour. In private life he was much admired, and was always
found in the most conservative and fastidious circles, where as a man of
culture, a humorist, and a raconteur, he was the life of society.

Braham was frequently associated in opera with Madame Angelica Catalani,
the last of the great singers who came before the public in the
eighteenth century. She was a woman of tall and majestic presence, a
dazzling complexion, large, beautiful blue eyes, and features of ideal
symmetry,--a woman to entrance the eye as well as the ear. Her voice was
a soprano of the purest quality, embracing a compass of nearly three
octaves, and so powerful that no band could overwhelm its tones. The
greatest defect of her singing was that, while the ear was bewildered
with the beauty and tremendous power of her voice, the feelings were
untouched,--she never appealed to the heart. She could not thrill like
Mara, nor captivate her hearers by a birdlike softness and brilliancy,
like Billington. She simply astonished her audiences.

Her private life was as exemplary as her public career was dazzling. She
was married, after a most romantic courtship, to a M. de Vallebregue, a
French captain of Hussars, who turned out to be an ignorant, stupid man,
but a driver of hard bargains for his wife's talents. His musical
knowledge is illustrated by an anecdote to the effect that on one
occasion, when his wife complained at a rehearsal that the piano was too
high, he had the defect remedied by sending for a carpenter and making
him cut off six inches from the legs of the instrument. In spite of the
reputation for avarice which her husband helped to create, Madame
Catalani won golden opinions by her sweet temper, liberality, and
benevolence.

Towards the end of her career Catalani drew down on her head the
severest reprobation of all good judges by singing the most extravagant
and bizarre show pieces, such as variations, composed for the violin, on
"Rule Britannia," "God Save the King," etc. The public in general,
however, listened to her wonderful execution with unbounded delight and
astonishment.

In 1831 Madame Catalani retired from the stage. Young and brilliant
rivals, such as Pasta and Sontag, were rising to contest her
sovereignty, and for several years the critics had been dropping pretty
plain hints that it would be the most judicious and dignified course.
She settled with her family on an estate near Lake Como; but in 1848
she went to Paris to escape the cholera, which was then raging, and in a
few months, notwithstanding her precaution, she fell a victim to that
dread disease.




CHAPTER II.

PASTA TO MARIO.


It is impossible in these chapters to make more than a passing sketch of
many famous singers, and we must therefore be content with the mere
mention of such as Fodor, Camporese, Pisaroni, and Damoreau, who all, in
their day, attained high renown.

We now come to Giuditta Pasta, who must be placed in the very front
rank, as an artist who could transform natural faults into the rarest
beauties, who could make the world forgive the presence of many
deficiencies, and who engraved deeper impressions on the memory of her
hearers than any other, even in an age of great singers. Her voice at
first was limited, husky, and weak, without charm, without flexibility.
Though her countenance _spoke_, its features were cast in a coarse
mould. Her figure was ungraceful, her movements were awkward, and, at
the end of her first season, she found herself a dire failure. She
suddenly withdrew from the operatic world and betook herself to study,
and when she reappeared she made a great impression. By sheer industry
she had increased the range of her voice to two octaves and a half. Her
tones had become rich and sweet, her shake was most beautiful, but her
genius as a tragedienne surpassed her talent as a singer.

Poetical and enthusiastic by temperament, the crowning excellence of her
art was a grand simplicity. There was a sublimity in her expression of
vehement passion which was the result of measured force, energy which
was never wasted, exalted pathos that never overshot the limits of art.
Vigorous without violence, graceful without artifice, she was always
greatest when the greatest emergency taxed her powers.

No one could ever sing "Tancredi" like Pasta; "Desdemona" furnished the
theme for the most lavish praises of the critics; "Medea" is said to
have been the grandest lyric interpretation in the records of art. She
had literally worked her way up to eminence, and, having attained the
height, she stood on it firm and secure.

Madame Pasta was associated in many of her successes with the tenor
Garcia, more celebrated as the father of Malibran and Viardot, and as
one of the greatest vocal teachers of the century; with the baritone
Bordogni, and the basso Levasseur.

Honors were showered upon her in all parts of Europe, and it is said
that her operatic salary of L14,000 was nearly doubled by her income
from other sources; but she lost nearly her entire fortune by the
failure of a banker in Vienna, and, in the endeavor to retrieve her
fortunes, she remained on the stage long after her vocal powers were on
the wane.

Rossini, the celebrated composer, married an opera singer, Isabella
Angela Colbran. She was born at Madrid, her father being court musician
to the King of Spain. Among her teachers was the celebrated Crescentini,
and her style and voice being formed by him, she was, from 1806 to 1815,
considered one of the best singers in Europe. After that time her voice
began to depart; but, as she was a great favorite with the King of
Naples, she remained at that city till 1821, and all good, loyal
Neapolitans were expected to enjoy her singing, which was sometimes
excruciatingly out of tune. She was born in 1785, but it was not until
1822 that she married Rossini, who was seven years her junior. In 1824
she went with her husband to London, and they made a great pecuniary
success, besides being greatly admired for artistic taste in private
concerts.

Some four years after the appearance of Madame Pasta another star of the
first magnitude appeared,--Henrietta Sontag, a beautiful and fascinating
woman, and, as some say, the greatest German singer of the century.
Nature gave her a pure soprano voice of rare and delicate quality,
united with incomparable sweetness. Essentially a singer and not a
declamatory artist, the sentiment of grace was carried to such a height
in her art that it became equivalent to the more robust passion and
force which distinguished some of her great contemporaries.

She began singing minor parts at the theatre at the early age of eight,
and her regular debut in opera took place when she was only fifteen.
"She appeared to sing," we are told, "with the volubility of a bird, and
to experience the pleasure she imparted." Her great art lay in rendering
pleasing whatever she did. The ear was never disturbed by a harsh note.

The most romantic stories circulated about the adoration lavished upon
her by men of rank and wealth, and it was reported that no singer ever
had so many offers of marriage from people of exalted station. But she
had met in Berlin a Piedmontese nobleman, Count Rossi, to whom she
became affianced, and Mlle. Sontag refused all the flattering overtures
made by her admirers. One of her most ardent lovers was De Beriot, the
great violinist, who, on his rejection, fell into a deep state of
despondency, from which the fascinations of the beautiful Malibran at
length roused him. Sontag's union with Rossi was for a long time kept
secret on account of the objections of his family, but she retired from
the stage and lived nearly twenty years of happy life in the various
capitals of Europe, to which her husband, attached to the Sardinian
legation, was accredited. At length, in 1848, her fortune was swept
away in the political revolution, and she announced her intention of
returning to the stage. She was at once offered L17,000 for the season
at Her Majesty's Theatre in London, and on her first appearance it was
evident that time had but developed the artist. What little her voice
had lost was more than compensated for by the deeper passion and feeling
which permeated her efforts, and she was rapturously greeted. In 1852
she made a tour of the large cities of the United States, where she
quickly established herself as one of the greatest favorites, in spite
of the fact that Malibran and Jenny Lind had preceded her, and that the
country had hardly recovered from the Lind mania. In New Orleans she
entered into an engagement to sing in the City of Mexico; but while her
agent was absent in Europe, gathering together an operatic company, she
was seized with cholera and died in a few hours.

Joseph Staudigl, who was born in 1807, at Wollersdorf, Austria, was one
of the most distinguished and accomplished bassos of the first half of
this century. He was a man of varied gifts and ardent temperament,
frank, open, and amiable. In 1825 he entered upon his novitiate in the
Benedictine monastery at Melk, but two years later he went to Vienna to
study surgery. Here his funds gave out, and he was glad to sing in the
chorus at the Kaernthnerthor Theatre. In due course the opportunity
offered for him to take leading parts, and he soon gained a great
reputation. He was also a great singer of church music and oratorio, for
which branches of music he had an inborn love.

Staudigl's last appearance took place in 1856, on Palm Sunday, for a few
days later he became a victim to insanity, from which he never
recovered. He made repeated tours abroad, and was much admired wherever
he went. As a singer of Schubert's Lieder he was without a rival, and
his performances of the "Erlkoenig," the "Wanderer," and "Aufenthalt"
were considered wonderful. His death occurred in 1861, and his funeral
was the occasion of a great demonstration.

Manuel Garcia, the tenor, had two daughters who both achieved the
highest distinction on the operatic stage. The eldest, Maria Felicien,
became Madame Malibran, and she is mentioned to-day as one of the most
wonderful operatic singers that the world has produced. Daring
originality stamped her life as a woman and her career as an artist, and
the brightness with which her star shone through a brief and stormy
history had something akin in it to the dazzling but capricious passage
of a meteor.

As a child she was delicate, sensitive, and self-willed, and she had a
prodigious instinct for art. Nevertheless, her voice was peculiarly
intractable, being thin in the upper notes, veiled in the middle tones,
and her intonation very imperfect. On leaving school she was taken in
hand by her father, who was more pitiless to her than to his other
pupils. He understood her disposition thoroughly, and said that she
could never become great except at the price of much suffering, for her
proud and stubborn spirit required an iron hand to control it.

Soon after making her debut she went with her father to America, for he
had conceived a project for establishing opera in the United States. His
company consisted of himself, Madame Garcia, a son, and his daughter.
Maria's charming voice and personal fascination held the public
spellbound, and raised the delight of opera-goers to a wild pitch of
enthusiasm. While in New York, a French merchant, M. Francois Eugene
Malibran, fell passionately in love with her, and she, being sick of her
father's brutality, and the supposed great fortune of Malibran dazzling
her imagination, married him, though in opposition to her father's
will. A few weeks after the marriage M. Malibran was a bankrupt, and
imprisoned for debt, and his bride discovered that she had been cheated
by a cunning scoundrel, who had calculated on saving himself from
poverty by dependence on the stage earnings of his wife. Garcia and the
rest of his family went to Mexico, where he succeeded in losing his
fortune. Madame Malibran remained in New York with her husband; but at
the end of five months she wearied of her hard fate, and, leaving him,
returned to Paris. Here she soon had the world at her feet, for the
novelty and richness of her style of execution set her apart from all
other singers as a woman of splendid and inventive genius.

Her voice was a mezzo-soprano, naturally full of defects, and, to the
very last, she was obliged to go through her exercises every day to keep
it flexible; but by the tremendously severe discipline to which her
father's teaching subjected her, its range extended so that it finally
reached a compass of three octaves. Her high notes had an indescribable
brilliancy, and her low tones were so soft, sweet, and heart-searching
that they thrilled with every varying phase of her sensibilities.

Mr. Chorley writes: "She may not have been beautiful, but she was better
than beautiful, insomuch as a speaking, Spanish, human countenance is
ten times more fascinating than many a faultless angel face, such as
Guido could paint. There was a health of tint, with but a slight touch
of the yellow rose in her complexion, a great mobility of expression in
her features, an honest, direct brightness of the eye, a refinement in
the form of her head, and the set of it on her shoulders."

Malibran could speak and write in five languages, and sing in any
school. She had the characteristic of being able to fire all her fellow
artists with her genius, and she was a tremendous worker. She was also
very fond of outdoor exercises, being a daring horse-woman and swimmer.

On the death of her husband she married De Beriot, the violinist, to
whom she had been passionately attached for some time, but shortly
afterwards she was thrown from her horse, while attending a hunt in
England. She sustained severe internal injury which eventually proved
fatal, though not until she had made heroic efforts to continue her
career, and fill all her engagements. Her death produced a painful shock
throughout all Europe, for she had been as much admired and beloved as a
woman, as she was worshipped as an artist.

The genius of the Garcia family shone not less in Madame Malibran's
younger sister, Pauline, than in herself. Pauline was thirteen years the
junior of Maria, and did not become celebrated until after the death of
her sister. In the meantime, Grisi and other great singers had appeared.

Pauline was the favorite child of Garcia. "Pauline," he would say, "can
be guided by a thread of silk, but Maria needs a hand of iron."

At the age of six she could speak fluently in French, Spanish, Italian,
and English, and to these she afterwards added German. She also learned
to play the organ and piano as if by instinct. In her early days she
went with her father to Mexico, where they met with many strange
adventures, notably on one occasion, when they were seized by bandits,
who plundered Garcia of his savings, bound him to a tree, and made him
sing for his life.

Pauline was seven years old on her return to Europe, and three years
later she became one of the pupils of Franz Liszt. When she was eleven
her father died, and she began to study voice with Adolph Nourrit, the
tenor, who had been one of her father's favorite pupils.

Her first public appearance was made in Brussels, at the age of sixteen,
and it was the first occasion on which De Beriot appeared after the
death of Madame Malibran, his wife.

Pauline Garcia's voice was like that of her sister in quality. It
combined the two registers of contralto and soprano, from low F to C
above the lines, but the upper part of an originally limited
mezzo-soprano had been literally fabricated by an iron discipline,
conducted by the girl herself with all the science of a master. Her
singing was expressive, descriptive, thrilling, full, equal and just,
brilliant and vibrating, especially in the medium and lower notes.
Capable of every style of art, it was adapted to all the feelings of
nature, but particularly to outbursts of grief, joy, or despair.

M. Viardot, the director of the Paris Opera, went to London to hear
her, and was so delighted that he offered her the position of prima
donna for the next season. She was then only eighteen, and by this
engagement she was fairly embarked upon a brilliant career. M. Viardot
fell deeply in love with her shortly after his introduction to her, and
in 1840 they were married. Returning to the stage after a short
retirement, Madame Viardot visited most of the great cities, and
invariably received the most enthusiastic welcome. On some occasions the
audience could scarcely be induced to leave the house at the end of the
performance. Once she played, on account of the illness of another
singer, the two parts of "Alice" and "Isabella" in "Robert le Diable,"
changing her costume with each change of scene, and representing in one
opera the opposite roles of princess and peasant.

After Madame Viardot's retirement in 1862, she held for many years a
professional chair at the Paris Conservatoire. In private life she has
been always loved and admired, and she is to this day recognized as one
of the great vocal teachers of Paris.

Adolf Nourrit, of whom the French stage is deservedly proud, was a pupil
of Garcia, and for ten years was principal tenor at the Academie,
creating all the leading tenor roles produced during that time. He was
idolized by the public, and was a man of much influence in musical
circles. He gave a distinct stamp and flavor to all his parts, and was
as refined and pleasing in comedy as he was pathetic and commanding in
tragedy. It was he who popularized the songs of Schubert, and otherwise
softened the French prejudice against the German music of his time. In
private life he was witty, genial, and refined, and was, therefore, a
favorite guest at the most distinguished and exclusive "salons." Nourrit
was subject to alternate fits of excitement and depression, and was
affected to such a degree by some articles praising his rival, Duprez,
at his expense, that his friends feared for his sanity. Eventually,
while filling an engagement in Italy, he threw himself out of his
bedroom window and was instantly killed on the paved courtyard below.

Duprez, like Nourrit, was a student at the Paris Conservatoire, and for
many years a leading figure at the Academie. At first he was not a
success in opera, but, by dint of study and hard work, he achieved a
high reputation. In person he was insignificant, but his tragic passion
and splendid intelligence gave him a deserved prominence. He composed
much music, including two masses and eight operas, and was the writer of
a highly esteemed musical method. After finishing his operatic career he
became a professor of singing at the Conservatoire.

Madame Grisi, who made her debut in 1823, and held her place as one of
the greatest singers for many years, was the daughter of an Italian
officer of engineers, and her mother's sister was the once celebrated
Grassini, a contemporary of Mrs. Billington and Madame Mara.

Giulietta Grisi, as a child, was too delicate to receive any musical
training; but her ambition caused her to learn the pianoforte by her own
efforts, and her imitation of her sister Giuditta's vocal exercises
indicated to her family the bent of her tastes.

In due course she entered the conservatoire in her native town, and was
later sent to her Uncle Ragani at Bologna, where, for three years, she
was under the instruction of Giacomo Guglielmi. Gradually the beautiful
quality of her voice began to manifest itself. She was remarkably apt
and receptive, and profited by her masters to an extraordinary degree.

For three months she studied under Filippo Celli, and in 1828 she made
her debut in Rossini's "Elmira." Rossini was delighted with her, and
the director of the theatre immediately engaged her for the carnival
season.

The career thus auspiciously commenced, continued for more than a
quarter of a century, during which time Grisi delighted audiences
throughout the whole of Europe, and made a tour, with Mario, of the
United States.

The production of Bellini's last opera, "I Puritani," in 1834, was one
of the greatest musical events of the age, not solely on account of the
work, but because of the very remarkable quartet which embodied the
principal characters,--Grisi, Rubini, Tamburini, and Lablache. This
quartet continued in its perfection for several years, with the
substitution later of Mario for Rubini, and was one of the most notable
and interesting in the history of operatic music.

Giulietta Grisi's womanly fascinations made havoc among that large
class who become easily enamored of the goddesses of the theatre, and
she was the object of many passionate addresses. She married in 1836 a
French gentleman of fortune, M. Auguste Gerard de Melcy, but she did not
retire. This marriage was unhappy, and after her release from it by
divorce she became the wife of Mario, the great tenor.

Grisi united much of the nobleness and tragic inspiration of Pasta, with
something of the fire and energy of Malibran; but, in the minds of the
most capable judges, she lacked the creative originality which stamped
each of the former two artists. Her dramatic instincts were strong and
vehement, lending something of her own personality to the copy of
another's creation, and her voice as nearly reached perfection as any
ever bestowed on a singer.

Madame Grisi continued before the public until 1866, although her powers
were failing rapidly. In 1869 she died of inflammation of the lungs.

From the year 1834, when she made her debut at the King's Theatre,
London, until 1861, when she retired from the Royal Italian Opera, Grisi
missed only one season in London, that of 1842. It was a rare thing
indeed that illness or any other cause prevented her from fulfilling her
engagements. She seldom disappointed the public by her absence, and
never by her singing. Altogether her artistic life lasted about
thirty-five years. During sixteen successive years she sang, during the
season, at the Theatre des Italiens in Paris, her engagements there
beginning in 1832 with her appearance as Semiramide.

Both Grisi and her husband, Mario, were much admired by the Czar
Nicholas of Russia, and it is said that the Czar, meeting Grisi one day
walking with her children, stopped and said facetiously, "I see, these
are the pretty Grisettes." "No," replied Grisi, "these are my
Marionettes." Mario, too, is said to have been asked by the Czar to cut
his beard in order to the better look one of his parts. This he declined
to do, even when the Czarina, fearing that he might become a victim of
the Czar's displeasure, added her request. But Mario declared that it
was better to incur the displeasure of the Czar than to lose his voice,
saying that if they did not like him with his beard, upon which he
relied for the protection of his voice, they surely would not like him
without his voice.

During the height of their prosperity, Grisi and Mario lived in princely
extravagance. Their family consisted of six daughters, of whom three
died quite young, and they were enthusiastically devoted to one another.

Giambattista Rubini, who was for years associated with Grisi, was a
native of Bergamo, where he made his debut at the age of twelve in a
woman's part, sitting afterwards at the door of the theatre between two
candles, and holding a plate into which the public deposited their
offerings. During his early life he belonged to several wandering
companies, in which he filled the position of second tenor; but in 1814,
at the age of nineteen years, he was singing in Pavia for a salary of
about nine dollars a month. Before the end of his career he was paid
L20,000 a year for his services at the St. Petersburg Imperial Opera.

Rubini's countenance was mean, his figure awkward, and he had no
conception of taste, character, or picturesque effect; but his voice was
so incomparable in range and quality, his musical equipment and skill so
great, that his memory is one of the greatest traditions of lyric art.
Like so many of the great singers of his time, Rubini first gained his
reputation in the operas of Bellini and Donizetti, and many of the
tenor parts of these works were composed expressly for him. The immense
power, purity, and sweetness of his voice have probably never been
surpassed, and its compass was of two octaves, from C in the bass clef.
He could also sing in falsetto as high as treble F, and with such skill
that no one could detect the change into the falsetto.

Rubini died in 1852, leaving one of the largest fortunes ever amassed on
the stage.

Another member of the celebrated "Puritani" quartet was Antonio
Tamburini, a native of Faenze. Without any single commanding trait of
genius, he seems, with the exception of Lablache, to have combined more
attractive qualities than any male singer who ever appeared. He was
handsome and graceful, and a master of the art of stage costume. His
voice, a baritone of over two octaves in extent, was full, round,
sonorous, and perfectly equal throughout. His execution was unsurpassed
and unsurpassable, of a kind which at the present day is well-nigh
obsolete, and is associated in the public mind with sopranos and tenors
only.

An amusing instance of Tamburini's versatility was shown at Palermo
during the carnival season of 1822, when the audience attended the
theatre armed with drums, trumpets, shovels, and anything that would
make a noise. Tamburini, being unable to make his basso heard, sang his
music in falsetto, an accomplishment which so delighted the audience
that they laid aside their instruments of torture, and applauded
enthusiastically. The prima donna, however, was so enraged and
frightened by the rough behavior of the audience that she fled from the
theatre, and the manager was at his wit's end. Tamburini donned the
fugitive's satin dress, clapped her bonnet over his wig, and appeared on
the stage with a mincing step. He sang the soprano score so admirably,
burlesquing the action of the prima donna, but showing far greater
powers of execution than she possessed, that his hearers were
captivated. He did not shirk even the duets, but sang the woman's part
in falsetto, and his own in his natural voice.

He retired in 1859, and died at Nice in 1876.

Luigi Lablache, the basso of the "Puritani" quartet, is considered by
many authorities to have been the greatest artist among men that ever
appeared in opera. In stature he was a giant, and we are told that one
of his boots would make a good portmanteau or one of his gloves would
clothe an infant. His strength was enormous, and his voice magnificent;
the vibration thereof was so tremendous that it was dangerous for him to
sing in a greenhouse, though why this particular danger is noted must be
left to conjecture, for there is no record in history to show that it
was customary or essential to sing in greenhouses.

Anecdotes of Lablache's generosity and noble character are plentiful,
and there are some also which show that he was a lover of good jokes. Of
these, perhaps the following is the most amusing. Once when the
"Puritani" quartet was in Paris, Lablache was quartered at the same
hotel as General Tom Thumb, who was delighting audiences at a
vaudeville. An English tourist, who was making strenuous efforts to meet
Tom Thumb, burst into the great basso's apartment, but seeing such a
giant, hesitated, and apologized, saying that he was looking for Tom
Thumb. "I am he," said Lablache, in his deepest tones. The Englishman,
taken flat aback, exclaimed: "But you were much smaller when I saw you
on the stage yesterday." "Yes," replied Lablache; "that is how I have to
appear, but when I get home to my own rooms I let myself out and enjoy
myself," and he proceeded to entertain his visitor.

In his student days Lablache was so dominated by the desire to appear on
the stage that he ran away from the conservatorium no less than five
times, each time being caught and brought back in disgrace. On one
occasion he engaged himself to sing at Salerno for fifteen ducats a
month, and received a month's pay in advance. He lingered two days in
Naples and spent his money, apparently also disposing of most of his
clothes. As he could not well appear at Salerno without luggage, he
filled his portmanteau with sand, and set forth. A couple of days later
he was captured by the vice-president of the conservatorium, and taken
back to Naples. The impresario hastened to make good his loss by seizing
the portmanteau, which, however, proved to be very disappointing.

After Lablache made his first appearance in opera his fame grew
rapidly, and in a few years had reached colossal proportions. Among the
honors which fell to his lot was that of being music teacher to Queen
Victoria. His death, which occurred in 1858, drew forth expressions of
regret from all parts of Europe, for it was felt that in Lablache the
world of song had lost one of its brightest lights.

Mario, who followed Rubini as tenor in the celebrated "Puritani"
quartet, was more closely connected with the career of Madame Grisi than
any other singer, for he became her husband. His proper title was Mario,
Cavaliere di Candia; but, in order to soothe the family pride, he was
known on the stage by his Christian name only. When he first went to
Paris, in 1836, he held a commission in a Piedmontese regiment. The
fascinating young Italian officer was welcomed in the highest circles,
for his splendid physical beauty, and his art-talents as an amateur in
music, painting, and sculpture, separated him from all others, even in a
throng of brilliant and accomplished men. In Paris he fell into debt,
and, having a beautiful voice, he accepted the proposition of Duponchel,
the manager of the opera, and entered upon stage life. Though his
singing was very imperfect and amateurish, his princely beauty and
delicious, fresh voice took the musical public by storm.

Mario will live in the world's memory as the best opera-lover ever seen.
In such scenes as the fourth act of "Les Huguenots," and the last act of
"Favorita," Mario's singing and acting were never to be forgotten by
those that witnessed them. Intense passion and highly finished vocal
delicacy combined to make these pictures of melodious suffering
indelible. As a singer of romances he has never been equalled; in those
songs where music tells the story of passion, in broad, intelligible,
ardent phrases, and presents itself primarily as the vehicle of violent
emotion, Mario stood ahead of all others of his age. For a quarter of a
century he remained before the public of Paris, London, and St.
Petersburg, but he did not finally retire until 1867.

The story of Mario's life reads like a romance. At times he was steeped
in the depths of poverty; at others, he enjoyed great wealth and lived
in princely style. Shortly after his first arrival in Paris, he found
himself deeply in debt, and so poor that he was obliged to sleep in a
very cheap lodging-house where several people occupied one room. One
night he awoke and found a man kneeling over him, to rob him. "What do
you want?" asked Mario. "Your money," was the reply. "Take all you can
find, my friend," answered Mario, "but please let me continue my dreams
and my sleep."

Mario was as careless in regard to time as to money. It is related that
once upon a time he arrived half an hour early, to keep an appointment.
Nobody was more surprised than Mario himself, and, after investigation,
he discovered that he had mistaken eleven o'clock for five minutes to
twelve, and would have been the customary half hour late if his
calculations had been correct.

Mario had a particular aversion to writing letters, and when he received
an invitation from some person of high degree he would frequently say,
"Oh, I will write to-morrow," and Mario's to-morrow was the proverbial
one which never came. He was nevertheless kind and thoughtful for every
one, and to his personal graces and charms he owes his reputation as
much as to his art, for he was always more or less of an amateur. His
wonderful gifts were not developed by study, like the equally wonderful
voice of Rubini, who surpassed in this respect every tenor before or
after.

As an instance of the admiration in which Mario was held by the fair
sex, we are told that a certain lady followed him wherever he sang. She
never spoke to him, never tried to press herself upon him, but never
missed a performance in any part of the world in which he sang, except
on three occasions when she was prevented by sickness. This continued
for a period of forty years.

Like all men of similar disposition, Mario was subject to fits of wild,
unreasoning jealousy, and his domestic life with Grisi was not always of
the smoothest nature, though there was absolutely no cause for jealousy
on either side. On one occasion, Mario is said to have worked himself up
into such a state of excitement that he smashed everything in the room.
Grisi, too, once reached so great a depth of despair that she rushed out
to drown herself. A fleet-footed friend followed her, and reached her
just as she was preparing to make the final plunge. All kinds of
arguments were used to turn her from her purpose, but in vain, until her
rescuer pictured to her how dirty and muddy she would look when taken
out of the river. This argument prevailed, and the prima donna deferred
her demise.

In spite of the large amount of money earned by Mario, he retired from
the stage a poor man. His improvidence was magnificent. Twice the public
subscribed for his needs, and once, the old unthriftiness about him
still, he flung away his capital and was royally penniless again.

At Rome, in which city he spent his last days, he was given the post of
curator of the Museum; but the glory of his past still adhered to him,
and he was surrounded by a host of admirers, who enjoyed hearing the old
man talk about his adventures. He died, in 1883, in the arms of Signor
Augusto Rotoli. His life had been triumphant beyond the lot of all but
the most fortunate, and the memory he left was singularly kind and
beautiful.

A memorandum, published at the time of Mario's retirement, states that
during his career he gave, in London alone, 935 performances, of which
225 were in operas of Donizetti, 170 Meyerbeer, 143 Rossini, 112 Verdi,
82 Bellini, 70 Gounod, and 68 Mozart, the remaining 65 performances
being operas of seven other composers.




CHAPTER III.

MARIO TO TIETIENS.


Contemporary with Sontag, Malibran, and Grisi, was Madame
Schroeder-Devrient, who was one of the earliest and greatest interpreters
of German opera. Though others have surpassed her in vocal resources,
she stands high in the list of operatic tragediennes, and for a long
time reigned supreme in her art. Her deep sensibilities and dramatic
instincts, her noble elocution and stately beauty, fitted her admirably
for tragedy, in which she was unrivalled except by Pasta. Her voice was
a mellow soprano, which, though not specially flexible, united softness
with volume and compass. Her stage career began at the age of six, but
she was seventeen when she made her debut in opera. Her highest triumph
was achieved as Leonora in the "Fidelio."

Her marriage with M. Devrient, a tenor singer whom she met in Dresden,
did not turn out happily. Madame Devrient retired in 1849, having
amassed a considerable fortune by her professional efforts. Her
retirement occasioned much regret throughout Germany, and the Emperor
Francis I. paid her the unusual compliment of having her portrait
painted in all her principal characters, and placed in the Imperial
Museum. She died in 1860 at Cologne, and the following year a marble
bust was placed in the opera house at Berlin.

Madame Devrient must be classed with that group of dramatic singers who
were the interpreters of the school of music which arose in Germany
after the death of Mozart, and which found its characteristic type in
Carl Maria Von Weber, for Beethoven, who on one side belongs to this
school, rather belongs to the world, than to a single nationality.

Fanny Persiani, who was contemporary with Grisi and Viardot, was the
daughter of Tacchinardi, a tenor singer of no small reputation.
Tacchinardi was a dwarf, hunchbacked and repulsive in appearance, yet he
had one of the purest tenor voices ever given by nature and refined by
art, which, together with extraordinary intelligence and admirable
method of singing, and great facility of execution, elicited for him the
admiration of the public.

His daughter Fanny showed a passion for music almost as an infant, and
was carefully trained by her father. At eleven years of age she took
part in an opera as prima donna at a little theatre which Tacchinardi
had built near his country-place just out of Florence. She had a voice
of immense compass, to which sweetness and flexibility were added by
study and practice. She married Joseph Persiani, an operatic composer,
at the age of twelve, for her father did not wish her to go on the
stage, and thought that an early marriage would change her tastes. For
several years she lived in seclusion at her husband's house; but at last
an opportunity offered to sing in opera, and she was unable to resist
it. Madame Persiani belonged to the same style as Sontag, not only in
character of voice but in all her sympathies and affinities. Moscheles,
in his diary, speaks of the incredible technical difficulties which she
overcame, and compares her performance with that of a violinist, for she
could execute the most florid, rapid, and difficult music with such ease
as to excite the wonder of her hearers. Aside from her wonderful
executive art in singing, Madame Persiani will be remembered as having
contributed, perhaps, more than any other singer to making the music of
Donizetti popular. Her death occurred in 1867.

The name of Jenny Lind will be remembered when Malibran, Grisi, and many
of the greatest singers have sunk into oblivion, because of her good
works. Besides being one of the few perfect singers of the century, her
life was characterized by deep religious principles and innumerable
charitable works, of which not the least was the use of the fortune of
over $100,000, which she made during her American tour, in founding art
scholarships and other charities in Sweden, her native land.

Jenny Lind was born in 1820 at Stockholm, and was the daughter of poor
but educated parents, her father being a teacher of languages and her
mother a schoolmistress.

From her cradle she showed the greatest delight in music, and at the age
of three she could sing with accuracy any song that she had heard. Her
musical education began at the age of nine; but, notwithstanding the
brilliant career predicted for her by her friends, her life for many
years was a history of patient hard work and crushing disappointments.

When she was presented by her singing teacher to Count Puecke, the
director of the court theatre at Stockholm, with a view to getting her
admitted to the school of music connected with it, she made no
impression on him, and it was only by great persuasion that he could be
induced to accept her.

In this theatre she appeared in child's parts while scarcely in her
teens, but when she was about thirteen years old her voice suddenly
failed. She continued patiently with her other musical studies, and in
four or five years her voice returned as suddenly as it had left her.

Shortly after this, she sang at a concert the part of Alice, in the
fourth act of "Roberto," and made such a favorable impression that she
was immediately given the part of Agatha, in "Der Freischuetz," and made
her first appearance in opera. She soon became a great favorite in
Stockholm, where she remained for nearly two years.

Filled with ambition, she now went to Paris and sought the celebrated
teacher, Manuel Garcia, whose first advice to her was not to sing a note
for three months. Garcia never expected great things of her, although he
was pleased with her diligence and her musical intelligence. Meyerbeer,
on the contrary, who heard her about a year later, at once recognized in
her voice "one of the finest pearls in the world's chaplet of song," and
through his influence she obtained a hearing in the salon of the Grand
Opera. This did not result in an engagement, and Jenny Lind was so
mortified that years afterwards, when her reputation was established,
and she was offered an engagement in Paris, she declined it without
giving any reason.

She now returned to Stockholm, where she was received with the greatest
enthusiasm; but soon afterwards she appeared at Copenhagen, and then,
through Meyerbeer again, she procured an engagement at Berlin, where, in
the part of Alice in "Roberto," she made a profound impression. She next
sang in Vienna, where she made a veritable triumph. On the last night of
her engagement her carriage was escorted home by thousands. Thirty times
she was obliged to appear at the window of her hotel, and the crowd
scrambled for the flowers which she threw them in acknowledgment of
their applause, and carried them home as treasures.

She became the talk of musical circles throughout Europe, and prices
rose enormously whenever she was to sing.

[Illustration: _Jenny Lind._]

She sang in London for the first time in 1847, and, through judicious
advertising, the public were worked up to a great state of expectation.
Tickets were held at fabulous prices, and since the days of Mrs.
Siddons's seventh farewell, nothing like the excitement had been
known. Many ladies sat on the stairs of the opera house, unable to
penetrate to the auditorium.

Her operatic career in London was short as it was brilliant, for she
sang for the last time on the operatic stage in the season of 1849,
after which she appeared only in concerts and oratorio. Concerning the
charm of her singing, one may judge from a sentence written by Chorley,
the well-known critic, who least of all men was likely to be carried
away by emotion. "It was a curious experience," he says, "to sit and
wait for what should come next, and to wonder whether it was really the
case that music had never been heard till the year 1847." On the other
hand, Mr. Chorley wrote later on to the effect that she invariably sang
somewhat sharp, and that he could not consider any prima donna to be a
great artist who was only positively successful in four
operas,--"Roberto," "La Sonnambula," "La Figlia del Reggimento," and
"Le Nozze di Figaro." In Norma she was a failure.

But again Chorley may well be quoted: "Of all the singers whom I have
ever heard, Mlle. Lind was perhaps the most assiduous. Her resolution to
offer the very best of her best to the public seemed part and parcel of
her nature, and of her conscience. Not a note was neglected by her, not
a phrase slurred over. Her execution was great, and, as is always the
case with voices originally reluctant, seemed greater than it really
was. Her shake was true and brilliant, her taste in ornament was
altogether original. She used her pianissimo tones so as to make them
resemble an effect of ventriloquism."

Jenny Lind's tour in America was eventful. It began with a serenade by a
band of one hundred and thirty musicians, preceded by seven hundred of
the firemen of New York. The demonstration occurred at one o'clock in
the morning, and was witnessed by a crowd of thirty thousand people. The
tickets for the concerts were sold by auction, and the highest price
paid was $225,--by an enterprising business man. During her stay in
America, Jenny Lind was followed by crowds eager to see her; receptions
were arranged, and everything was done to keep up the excitement. She
was under the management of Mr. P. T. Barnum, from whom she later
obtained her release on payment of a forfeit of $30,000.

In 1851 Mlle. Lind put herself under the management of Mr. Otto
Goldschmidt, a pianist of considerable ability, whom she married in
Boston. In 1852 she returned to Europe with her husband and settled in
Dresden, but eight years later they came to England and resided in
London, whence they moved after several years to Malvern Wells. In 1887
Madame Lind Goldschmidt died. She is remembered as one of the sweetest
singers and most charming women of her time.

A singer who replaced Fanny Persiani and surpassed her in popularity,
who sang in the same roles and in the same theatres as Grisi, and who,
according to Chorley, was the most ladylike person he had seen on the
stage of the Italian opera, except Madame Sontag, was Angiolina Bosio.
Born at Turin in 1830, and belonging to a family of artists, both
musical and dramatic, she made her first appearance at the age of
sixteen, and scored a decided triumph. In 1848 she sang at Paris, but
without her customary success, and she immediately made a tour of the
West, visiting Havana, New York, Philadelphia, and Boston, in all of
which places she was greatly admired. In 1851 she returned to Europe,
and married a Greek gentleman named Xindavelonis.

She returned to the stage, but was not favorably received until, at the
end of the season of 1852, she sang in "I Puritani," in the place of
Grisi. This was the turning-point in her fortune, and her popularity
increased rapidly, until she died suddenly in St. Petersburg, where the
rigorous climate was too severe for her delicate constitution. At St.
Petersburg she was nominated premiere cantatrice, an honor never
previously bestowed.

Madame Bosio was possessed of much taste in the matter of dress,
together with a graceful condescension of manner. Her features were
irregular, and yet she was extremely pleasing, so much so, in fact, that
the critics wrote of "her gay, handsome face." Her most remarkable
performance was in "La Traviata," in which she sang with the tenor
Gardoni and the bass Ronconi, both singers of great renown.

The greatest contralto of the middle of the century was undoubtedly
Marietta Alboni, the daughter of a custom-house officer of Casena,
Romagna. She was born in 1822, and, like most of the great singers,
showed her talent early. She was placed under good teachers, and
attracted the attention of Rossini by her beautiful voice. He took so
much interest in her that he gave her instruction in some of her parts.
Thus she had the honor of being Rossini's only pupil.

In 1842 she made her first appearance in opera, and was soon after
engaged at La Scala, Milan, where she remained for four years. After
this she appeared at Vienna, and then she travelled through Europe,
creating a general furore.

Alboni was not an actress,--she was a singer simply and absolutely, and
her singing was such as to carry everything before it. The tones of her
voice were rich, full, mellow, and liquid,--sumptuous, they have been
called,--and of a pure and sympathetic quality. It was not even, for the
upper register was thin. Her articulation was perfectly clear and
fluent, even in the most difficult passages, and her style and method
were considered models. Her figure, though large, was graceful and
commanding, and her disposition was amiable. She was both independent
and dignified. While in Germany, and comparatively unknown, she declined
to seek the favor of the press, preferring to trust to the judgment of
the public.

Once upon a time, when Madame Alboni was at Trieste, she was informed of
the existence of a plot to hiss her off the stage. Having ascertained
the names of her detractors and where they were to be found, she donned
male attire, in which her short hair and robust figure helped to
complete her disguise, and went to the cafe at which the conspirators
met. Here she found them in full consultation, and, taking a seat at a
table, she listened to their conversation for a time. After awhile she
addressed the leader, saying: "I hear that you intend to play a trick
upon some one. I am very fond of a little practical joke myself, and
should be glad if you would allow me to join you on this occasion."

"With pleasure," was the reply; "we intend to hiss an opera singer off
the stage this evening."

"Indeed, and of what is she guilty?"

"Oh, nothing except that, being an Italian, she has sung in Munich and
Vienna to German audiences, and we think she ought to receive some
castigation for her unpatriotic conduct."

"I agree with you,--and now please tell me what I am to do."

"Take this whistle," said the leader. "At a signal to be given at the
conclusion of the air sung by Rosina, the noise will begin, and you will
have to join in."

"I shall be very glad to do so," replied the singer, and put the whistle
in her pocket.

In the evening the house was packed, every seat was occupied, and the
audience warmly applauded the opening numbers of the opera. In due
course Madame Alboni appeared, and at the point at which she was about
to address her tutor, a few of the conspirators began to make a
disturbance, not waiting for the signal.

Without showing any concern, Madame Alboni walked down to the
footlights, and holding up the whistle, which was hung to her neck by a
ribbon, she exclaimed: "Gentlemen, are you not a little before your
time? I thought we were not to commence whistling until after I had sung
the air."

For a moment a deathlike stillness prevailed. Then, suddenly, the house
broke into thunders of applause, which was led by the conspirators
themselves.

Alboni visited the United States in 1852, just after the visit of Jenny
Lind, and received what was considered a cordial welcome. Nevertheless
she is said to have expressed some disappointment. In 1853 she married
the Count of Pepoli, and soon after retired. She did not again sing in
public, except in 1871, when she sang the contralto part in Rossini's
Mass, a part which the composer had desired, before his death, that she
would take when it was produced.

In social life the Countess of Pepoli was as much the idol of her
friends as she had previously been of the public. In 1877 she married a
second time, taking Major Zieger for her husband. Her death took place
at the Ville d'Avray, Paris, in 1894.

For several years the favorite tenor on the French stage was Gustave
Hyppolite Roger, a man of amiable and benevolent disposition, who was
educated for the legal profession. He was born in 1815, at La Chapelle
St. Denis, Paris, and entered the Conservatoire in 1836, carrying off,
the following year, the first prizes for singing and comic opera. His
debut was made in February, 1838, and he remained at the Opera Comique
for ten years, after which he went to the Academie, and created a great
sensation with Madame Viardot, in "Le Prophete." His acting was good
both in tragic and comic parts, and he created many new roles.

In 1859 he met with an unfortunate accident, and lost his right arm by
the bursting of a gun, and this put an end to his operatic career in
Paris. He continued, however, to sing in provincial towns and in
Germany, until 1861, when he reappeared at the Opera Comique. But it was
evident that the time for his retirement had come, and he took pupils,
becoming a professor of singing at the Conservatoire in 1868, and
holding the position until his death in 1879.

The mantle of Braham, the greatest English tenor of his day, descended
to John Sims Reeves, the son of a musician, who was born at Shooter's
Hill, Kent, in 1822. Reeves, we are told, received the traditions of
Braham, and refined them.

He obtained his early musical instruction from his father, and at
fourteen held the position of organist at North Gray Church. Upon
gaining his mature voice he determined to be a singer, and at first sang
baritone and second tenor parts, making his debut in opera, at
Newcastle-on-Tyne, as Count Rudolpho in "La Sonnambula." Before long his
voice developed into a tenor of an exceptionally beautiful quality, and,
in 1847, when he appeared at Drury Lane, he at once took a position as a
singer of the first rank. His acting, too, was natural and easy, manly,
and to the purpose, exhibiting both passion and power without
exaggeration.

His greatest triumph, however, was achieved in oratorio, and his
performance of "The Enemy Said," in "Israel in Egypt," at the Crystal
Palace, in 1857, was of such a nature as to electrify his hearers.

In England the name of Sims Reeves was for many years sufficient to draw
an audience large enough to fill any auditorium to overflowing, although
he frequently disappointed the public by non-appearance. It was known
that he considered it wiser to disappoint the public than to risk losing
his voice, and, as a result, people soon realized that to hear him once
was sufficient to atone for several disappointments. To the general
public Sims Reeves endeared himself chiefly by his exquisite ballad
singing; and, just as Patti is associated with "Home, Sweet Home," his
name is coupled with "Come into the Garden, Maud."

Up to the age of seventy, Sims Reeves appeared occasionally in concerts,
and even at the present day he can secure an audience, although his
powers have long since passed away.

Enrico Tamberlik, who flourished during the middle of the century, was a
tenor of high rank. He belonged to the class of "tenore di forza," and
used to make a tremendous effect with his high C, which he produced with
immense power. His voice was one of great richness of tone and volume,
but his singing was marred by the persistent use of the vibrato, a fault
all too common.

Tamberlik, like Sims Reeves and Jean de Reszke, sang originally as a
baritone, and developed later into a tenor. His delivery was grand and
noble, his phrasing perfect, and he sang with a great depth of
expression. His elocution was so fine that every word was delivered with
full effect, and his dramatic power was unusually great. He was seen to
best advantage in heroic parts, in which his fine figure and majestic
bearing, together with the power and resonance of his voice, were
displayed.

[Illustration: _Jean de Reszke as Romeo._]

Tamberlik was born at Rome in 1820, made his debut at Naples in 1841,
and soon built up a great reputation. In 1850 he appeared in London,
and became so great a favorite that he was engaged there every season
until 1864. In 1874 he made a tour of the United States, and he is said
to have been the first tenor of importance who visited South America,
singing at Rio Janeiro, Buenos Ayres, and Montevideo.

One of his most notable performances was in 1871, when he took the part
of Otello, in Rossini's opera of that name, with Faure as Iago, and
Nilsson as Desdemona.

Tamberlik was a shrewd man of business, but an excellent companion. His
conversational powers were immense, and as he had come in contact with,
and known intimately, many men and women famous in the world of fashion,
art, and literature, he had an endless fund of interesting anecdotes. In
1877 he retired from the stage, having the good sense to seek private
life before his powers had faded. He settled in Madrid, and became a
manufacturer of arms. While in retirement he had the rare experience of
reading his own obituary notices, for, in 1882, a rumor of his death
went forth into Italy and France. Though it was entirely without
foundation, the press at once teemed with eulogistic biographies of the
great tenor, which were copied throughout Europe. As they were highly
complimentary, the subject was much pleased, and made a collection of
them which he pasted into an album and enjoyed for seven years. He died
in 1889.

During the same period there flourished Karl Formes, one of the most
remarkable bassos of his time, who was popular in spite of the fact that
he frequently offended by false intonation.

Formes was the son of a sexton of Muhlheim on the Rhine, and was born in
1810. He gained the greater part of his musical education by singing in
the choir of the church. He grew up with a strong love for the drama,
as well as for music, and at the age of sixteen his enthusiasm was such
that when Essler, the actor, visited Cologne, young Formes, not having
sufficient money to pay both for the ferry and his ticket, tied his
clothes around his neck, and swam the Rhine, rather than miss the
performance. When Staudigl, the bass singer, visited the same city,
Formes listened to his singing with awe, and the next season he begged
to be allowed to sing the part of Bertram at the opera. This was one of
Staudigl's favorite roles. Staudigl, who heard the performance, was so
pleased that he introduced Formes as his successor.

Formes, however, first came into notice by singing at some concerts
given for the benefit of the Cathedral fund, at Cologne, in 1841. In the
following year he made his operatic debut, his success leading to an
engagement for three years. He then sang in Vienna, and in 1849 appeared
in London with a German company, taking the part of Zarastro in the
"Zauberfloete," at Drury Lane Theatre. The next year he was engaged for
Italian opera, at Covent Garden, and sang there every season for some
fifteen years.

He had a voice which, for volume, compass, and quality, was one of the
most magnificent ever heard, a stage presence handsome and attractive,
and exceptional dramatic ability.

Formes was a man of unsettled, roving disposition, and spent much of his
time in Russia and in Spain, but in 1857 he visited the United States,
and eventually began a wandering life in this country, going wherever
fancy took him, and singing in almost all the larger cities.

In 1882 he, being then seventy-two years of age, married a Miss Pauline
Greenwood, who had been one of his pupils in Philadelphia. Shortly
afterwards the happy couple settled in San Francisco, where he
frequently sang in concerts, and where he had a number of pupils. His
voice was wonderfully well preserved, and he was strong and active,
giving some fifteen lessons daily, until his death in 1889.

Niemann is authority for a story about Formes. Once when he was in
Germany, Formes was very anxious to sing at court, and Niemann succeeded
in securing for him the opportunity. According to Niemann's ideas of
art, Formes sang atrociously, bellowing and shouting in stentorian
tones. Niemann was in an agony throughout the performance, thinking of
his responsibility; but, to his surprise, when the song was over, the
old Emperor William I. applauded loudly, and seemed highly delighted,
and demanded an encore. He probably thought what a fine dragoon officer
Formes would have made, shouting commands with his great voice.

At about the same time there flourished another tenor of high rank,
whose career was confined almost entirely to Germany, Joseph Alois
Tichatschek. He was born in 1807, at Ober Weckelsdorf, in Bohemia, and
became a chorus singer in 1830, rising in his profession until, in 1837,
he made his debut as a soloist at Dresden. In 1841 he sang for a few
nights in London, at Drury Lane, during a season of German opera; also
at Liverpool and Manchester, and was described as "young, prepossessing,
and a good actor; his voice is excellent, and his style, though not
wanting in cultivation, is more indebted to nature than to art." He was
also said to have proved himself "the hit of the season." Tichatschek
died in 1886.

A singer who was much more widely known, and who belonged to the time of
Grisi, Mario, Lablache, and the great operatic representations of those
days, was Georgio Ronconi, the baritone. He had a reputation extending
throughout Europe and into America, and he owes his celebrity rather to
histrionic powers than to his voice, for we are told by Chorley that
"there are few instances of a voice so limited in compass (hardly
exceeding an octave), so inferior in quality, so weak, so habitually out
of tune. The low stature, the features unmarked and commonplace, when
silent, promising nothing to an audience, yet which could express a
dignity of bearing, a tragic passion not to be exceeded, or an
exuberance of the wildest, quaintest, most whimsical, most spontaneous
comedy. These things we have seen, and have forgotten personal
insignificance, vocal power beyond mediocrity, every disqualification,
in the spell of strong, real sensibility." It was one of the many cases
in which dramatic talent has made up for lack of voice.

Ronconi sang for many years in London, in all the great comic operas. He
retired in 1874, and became a teacher of singing. He died in 1890.

In 1849 two stars of importance appeared on the operatic
horizon,--Madame Marie Caroline Felix Miolan Carvalho, and Mlle. Theresa
Carolin Johanna Tietiens.

Madame Carvalho became the foremost lyric artist on the French stage,
and was engaged for many years at the Opera Comique and at the Grand
Opera in Paris, but she also sang frequently in London, Berlin, St.
Petersburg, and other cities of Europe. Her first public appearance was
made at a performance for the benefit of Duprez, her teacher, and she
sang in the first act of "Lucia," and in the trio in the second act of
"La Juive." Her last appearance, which took place in 1887, two years
after her retirement from the stage, was also at a benefit,--a concert
in aid of the sufferers by the fire at the Opera Comique. On this
occasion she sang with Faure.

Madame Carvalho was the daughter of an oboe player named Felix Miolan,
who educated her musically until she entered the Paris Conservatoire,
and studied with Duprez, gaining, in 1847, the first prize for singing.
Her voice was high and thin, but was used with consummate skill and
delicacy, and her interpretation of the role of Marguerite, in "Faust,"
was considered a most complete and delightful personation.

She was a native of Marseilles, born in 1827. In 1853 she married Leon
Carvaille, more generally known as Carvalho, who became director of the
Opera Comique. He held this position at the time of the fire; and, as
the accident was judged to have been due to the carelessness of the
management, Carvalho was fined and imprisoned. Madame Carvalho died in
1895, at Puys, near Dieppe.

Tietiens has been called the last of the great race of dramatic singers
made splendid by such as Pasta, Malibran, Grisi, and Viardot-Garcia.
Never was so mighty a voice so sweet and luscious in its tone. It had
none of the soprano shrillness, but was more of a mezzo-soprano quality
throughout, and softer than velvet. Her style of singing was noble and
pure, her acting was earnest, animated, and forcible, her stage presence
was imposing. Such parts as Norma and Lucretia Borgia are said to have
died with her, so grand was her interpretation of them, and she sang the
part of Ortrud in "Lohengrin" so finely that, in all probability, she
would have become noted as a Wagnerian singer had not death snatched her
away in her prime. No singer ever became more popular in England, where
she lived for many years, and where her death was considered as a
national loss. Mlle. Tietiens was born in Hamburg, in 1831, of Hungarian
parents, and first appeared in opera in that city at the age of
eighteen. She sang in London every season from 1859 till 1877, the year
of her death, and was as great an oratorio singer as she was operatic
artist. Mlle. Tietiens was tall, massive, and dignified, and dominated
the stage with her presence. In 1876 she visited the United States, and
made a concert tour, but none could have a full conception of her power
who did not see her in one of her great parts. Like other singers who
have for years maintained their popularity in England, her private life
was most admirable, and her kind and charitable nature endeared her to
the nation.




CHAPTER IV.

PRIMA DONNAS OF THE FIFTIES.


The years immediately following 1850 were rather barren of stars of the
first magnitude in the line of sopranos, although Stockhausen, Faure,
Wachtel, and Nicolini all belong to that period, besides Adelaide
Phillips, the contralto.

The chief soprano of the year 1851 was Madame Nantier-Didier, a native
of the Isle of Bourbon, who had a somewhat successful career in the
chief cities of Europe, but who was considered "a first-rate singer of
the second class." She had a gay, handsome face, a winning mezzo-soprano
voice, and neat execution.

In the following year appeared two singers of high rank, Maria
Piccolomini, and Euphrosine Parepa, more generally known as Madame
Parepa-Rosa.

Piccolomini owed her success chiefly to her clever acting, and her
charming little figure. Her voice was weak and limited, and she was not
sure in her intonation, nor did she excel in execution. She visited the
United States in 1858, and was well received. Her stage career was not
very long, for she retired in 1863, and married the Marchese Gaetani.

Parepa-Rosa was born in Scotland, at Edinburgh. Her father was a
Wallachian boyard, and her mother (Elizabeth Seguin) a singer of some
repute. Parepa's full name was Euphrosine Parepa de Boyesku. She was a
well-educated woman, speaking and writing several languages correctly,
and she had a voice of great power and sweetness, with a range of two
and a half octaves. She was, also, a woman of fine figure and imposing
stage presence. Her reputation was gained, however, more in concert and
oratorio than in opera, but her memory will remain in America as that of
one who did much towards the cultivation of the public taste for opera.

In 1865 she came to America on a tour with Mr. Carl Rosa, whom she
married in 1867, her first husband, Captain De Wolfe Carvell, having
died in 1865. After this they remained for four years, during which time
they organized the Carl Rosa Opera Company, for the performance of
English and Italian opera. Madame Parepa-Rosa was the principal singer,
and the company met with great success, singing not only in opera, but
also in oratorio and concerts. In 1871 they went to Cairo, Egypt, on
account of Carl Rosa's health, but they returned to America before
winter, bringing with them Wachtel, the German tenor, and Santley, the
English baritone.

In 1873 they again returned to Europe, but Madame Rosa was soon
afterwards seized with an illness which terminated in her death in
January, 1874. The Carl Rosa Opera Company, which was thus established,
remained in existence until recently, and has been a successful company,
always employing several singers of high rank. In 1898, owing to a
declining business, it was decided to wind the company up, or reorganize
it, and meetings were held to decide the matter.

The star of 1856 was Madame Peschka-Leutner, who sang in 1872 at the
Jubilee festival in Boston. Although she had appeared in London, she was
but little known outside of her own country, where she was very popular.
She died at Wiesbaden in 1890.

Before 1860 the French stage also produced two singers of high rank. In
1858 Madame Artot made her debut at the Paris Opera, though she had
already been heard in concerts in Belgium, Holland, and England. She was
the daughter of the horn professor at the Brussels Conservatoire, and
was taught singing by Madame Viardot-Garcia. Her engagement at Paris was
due to Meyerbeer, and her success was such as to draw praise even from
the extremely critical Berlioz. In the following year she took to
Italian opera, and for many years was well known throughout Europe.

Marguerite Josephine Desiree Montaigny Artot, for such was her name in
full, was born in 1835, and in 1869 she married a well-known Spanish
tenor, Padilla-y-Ramos. Together they sang in most of the great European
cities until their retirement. As late as 1887 they sang in Berlin, in
which city Madame Artot settled as a teacher of singing.

Madame Galli-Marie, whose celebrity as Mignon and Carmen is world-wide,
was the daughter of an opera singer, Mecene Marie de l'Isle. She made
her debut at Strasburg in 1859, and about the same time married a
sculptor named Galli, who died in 1861. Madame Galli-Marie's dramatic
talent was great, and she has succeeded in characters of entirely
opposite nature. Her voice was not remarkable; but, like many of the
most renowned artists of the century, her originality and artistic
temperament were sufficient to place her in the first rank.

When "Carmen" was produced, and Madame Galli-Marie was chosen for the
title role, Bizet re-wrote the part to suit her voice, which was of
limited range, having neither the low notes of a contralto nor the high
ones of the soprano. She was, however, owing to her dramatic
capabilities, not only the first but one of the best Carmens seen until
the time of Calve.

In 1859 there arose from the opposite ends of the earth, two stars of
the first magnitude, whose brilliancy was sufficient to silence the
complaints of those who declared that the art of singing was a lost art.
Such wails have arisen from time to time ever since opera was
established, and possibly they may have existed in some form previous to
that time, but up to the present date there is good evidence that the
art of singing flourishes. It is human nature to declare that things of
the past were superior to those of the present, and in their day
Cuzzoni, Gabrielli, Catalani, Pasta, Grisi, and Jenny Lind, besides a
number of others, were all such singers "as had never before been
heard."

Between Pauline Lucca and Adelina Patti there was a wide difference, and
yet both singers triumphed in the same parts.

Lucca made her debut at Olmutz as Elvira in "Ernani," Patti first
appeared in New York as Lucia. Both Lucca and Patti made their debut at
the age of sixteen, though some authorities state that Lucca was born in
1841; and both singers followed in matrimony the conventional course of
the prima donna, and married twice.

Pauline Lucca was born in Vienna, her father being an Italian merchant
in comfortable circumstances. Pauline's high musical gifts attracted
attention early, but her father objected to the idea of educating her
for the stage. When she was about thirteen years old business reverses
caused him to change his mind, and Pauline was placed under the best
available teachers.

In due course an engagement was secured for her at Olmutz, and she at
once became a favorite. For four months she sang at a salary of sixty
florins a month, and then she was engaged at Prague at five hundred
florins a month. Her next engagement was at Berlin at one thousand
thalers a month.

Her popularity at Olmutz was so great that before she left that place
she was honored by the inhabitants with a musical serenade and
torchlight procession.

It happened that about this time Meyerbeer, the composer, was casting
his eye over the operatic world for a singer to whom he felt that he
could entrust the creation of the part of Selika in his yet unpublished
"L'Africaine." He heard of Lucca, and when she was singing at Prague he
came over from Berlin on purpose to hear her. So pleased was he with her
performance that after the opera he desired to be presented to her, and
on being taken to her room, he rushed up to her and kissed her
vehemently on both cheeks, much to the surprise and embarrassment of the
young lady, who had no idea as to his identity. A modern prima donna,
not long ago, experienced a similar burst of enthusiasm from an unknown
elderly gentleman who also shed tears. After he had gone, and she had
recovered from her surprise, she missed a very valuable piece of
jewelry. It is only proper, therefore, for all composers intending to
make a demonstration to send word before-hand. On the following day
Meyerbeer called at her hotel and offered Mlle. Lucca an engagement at
Berlin, which she accepted, and which took effect at the end of her
Prague engagement, eight months later.

During these eight months Lucca received a proposal of marriage from the
young Prince Lobkowitz, who had fallen desperately in love with her; but
she did not listen to his appeals, and the unfortunate prince was
rejected. Some time after this event, which was so mortifying as to
probably affect his disposition, he sought and found death on the field
of honor, becoming involved in a duel.

Lucca now went to Berlin. Meyerbeer took her under his own immediate
charge, and she appeared in three of his greatest characters, Alice in
"Roberto," Bertha in "Il Prophete," and Vielka in the "Camp of Silesia."
She was in her eighteenth year, and her beauty both of person and voice
excited the greatest admiration and drove the Berlin public wild with
rapture. Under Meyerbeer's supervision she gained splendid triumphs and
was appointed court singer for life.

During this time of triumph in Berlin she was visited by Adelina Patti,
whose fame was also spreading over Europe; in fact, if one may judge by
financial results, Patti's star was much higher in the heavens than that
of Lucca, for whereas Lucca was receiving one thousand thalers a month,
Patti was being paid one thousand francs a night. Lucca was living in
apartments on a fourth floor, in quite an unconventional style, and was
in bed when Patti called. Nevertheless, she received her visitor, and
Strakosch, her manager, with many signs of unaffected pleasure, and they
became firm friends, their rivalry being confined to the stage.

Lucca's progress to fame was now very rapid. She appeared in London in
1863 and 1864, making a remarkable impression. In 1865 Meyerbeer's
"L'Africaine" was to be produced in Paris, and he was anxious that Lucca
should sing the part of Selika, but this was impossible without the
consent of the King of Prussia, and as he was opposed to her singing in
Paris at that time, he would not give the necessary consent. Meyerbeer
felt so strongly on the subject that he added a codicil to his will
stating that, if Pauline Lucca was engaged to sing Selika at the Opera
House in Berlin, the work might be sung there in German,--otherwise, he
forbade its production. "L'Africaine" was produced in Paris on April 28,
1865; but Meyerbeer never witnessed its performance in public, for he
was seized with illness on April 23d of that year, and died on May 2d.

In London this opera was produced on July 22d, and Lucca sang the part
for which Meyerbeer had selected her, as she also did at Berlin. Her
performance in London is on record as one of the very highest
achievements in the lyrical drama. In Berlin she created a perfect
furore, singing in a company which introduced Wachtel and Betz. While
the performance was in progress, the house and even the carriage of the
young prima donna were decorated with the rarest and most beautiful
flowers, and with such profusion that she was hardly able to recognize
her home.

The Czar of Russia now wished to hear this incomparable singer, so he
sent a polite message to the King of Prussia, requesting that she be
allowed to sing at St. Petersburg, and offering her a salary of eighty
thousand rubles for the season of four months. The King of Prussia had
not the same scruples concerning Russia that he had about France, so his
gracious consent was given, as it was, also, on the following season.

Lucca made an immense impression at St. Petersburg, where at the end of
the season she was serenaded by the band of the Imperial Guards. The
streets were illuminated from the theatre to her house at the orders of
the Crown Princess Dagmar, the Empress gave her a priceless and
beautiful pair of diamond earrings, the public, through the leader of
the orchestra, presented her with a splendid diadem covered with
precious stones, and the members of the orchestra subscribed and made
her a present of a laurel wreath in gold. But the greatest demonstration
in her honor occurred when she organized a concert for the benefit of
indigent students, the receipts of which exceeded ten thousand rubles.
Then she was called forward thirty times, and the students unharnessed
her horses and dragged her carriage home. They seized her shawl and tore
it into fragments for mementos, and she also had to give up her gloves
and handkerchief for the same purpose.

Similar demonstrations have taken place at different times, and in
other cities, in honor of other singers. It is quite an ordinary matter
in Russia for a singer to be called forward ten or twenty times, and
even thirty times is not by any means so extraordinary as it would be in
London or New York, or, more particularly, in Boston.

Jenny Lind lost a shawl in New York through the enthusiasm of the
public, and in 1881 Patti enjoyed the experience in Brooklyn of being
dragged home by a crowd of enthusiasts.

Perhaps Patti had the most curious demonstration in London, just before
she sailed for New York under Mapleson's management, and Mapleson is the
authority for the anecdote.

After the last performance of the season, Patti was escorted from the
theatre to the train en route for Liverpool by a procession of
theatrical people in costume, with a brass band. This was at one o'clock
in the morning. Full accounts of it were, of course, obtained somehow
by the American papers.

In 1865 Pauline Lucca had married a German military officer, Baron von
Rahden, who, when the Franco-German war broke out, went to the front,
and was severely wounded in the celebrated charge of Mars-La-Tour.
Lucca, hearing of his misfortune, made her way to the scene of the
conflict, and sought him out in the military hospital, where she
tenderly nursed him until he could be taken home. Her devotion to him
was admirable; but, unfortunately, a change in her feelings seems to
have occurred before very long, for when in 1872 she was in New York she
brought suit for divorce against the Baron, and he, being unaware of the
proceedings, made no defence, so that rightly or otherwise Madame Lucca
secured her divorce. Later on, when von Rahden forwarded papers which
were supposed to establish his innocence of the charges made against
him by his irate and jealous spouse, the case was closed, and no notice
was taken of the defence. Matters seem, however, to have arranged
themselves to the satisfaction of all concerned, for the Baron married
the young lady who had been the cause of Lucca's jealousy, and Lucca
married Baron von Wallhofen, an intimate friend of Von Rahden, who,
also, had been wounded at Mars-La-Tour, and who had followed her to
America.

Pauline Lucca was one of the few singers gifted with original genius,
and she imparted specific individuality to each of her characters, even
the most colorless. Her versatility was very great, and she had a
repertoire of fifty-six roles. Her voice was a full soprano of
sympathetic quality, and with a range of two and a half octaves,
extending to C in alt, and capable of expressing every kind of emotion.
Like Patti she was of slender figure, and at one time she played
Marguerite in "Faust" on alternate nights with her. Lucca was
essentially a lyric actress rather than a singer pure and simple, and
had the power of realizing the highest dramatic conception both of poet
and composer; she was able to draw inspiration from the abstract idea,
and she has been called "transcendentally human."

After her memorable tour in the United States, in 1872, Madame Lucca
continued before the public in Europe until 1884, since which time she
has lived in Vienna, and devoted herself chiefly to teaching.

While Lucca was thus rising to the highest pinnacles of fame, Patti also
was scoring great successes. In London she had become a permanent
favorite, and from the year 1861, in which she made her European debut,
for more than twenty years she was engaged every season at Covent
Garden.

In spite of all rivalry, she held her position there as the most popular
opera singer of modern times. She has enjoyed the same popularity on
the continent, and in America also she has been immensely popular.

[Illustration: _Patti._]

Adelina Patti's voice was one of moderate power, but great range and of
wonderful flexibility. Her production was faultless, and she was, and
is, undoubtedly, one of the greatest mistresses of vocalization of the
century. As an actress, she could not compare with many other singers,
and her greatest successes were gained in such operas as made the least
demand upon the histrionic capabilities of the performer. Her repertoire
included about thirty operas, mostly of the Italian school, though she
also sang in the operas of Meyerbeer and Gounod, and others. She was one
of the many "Carmens;" but while her interpretation vocally was
excellent, she was by no means equal dramatically to Mlle. Hauk, and
much less so to Calve, the latest and by far the greatest interpreter of
that role.

One of the most notable events of Madame Patti's career occurred when,
in 1868, at the funeral of Rossini, the composer, she sang with Madame
Alboni the beautiful duet, "Quis est <DW25>," from Rossini's "Stabat
Mater." On that occasion such an assembly of noted musicians and singers
was gathered together to honor the great composer as probably never
before met under the same roof. To hear that beautiful music, rendered
by two such artists over the grave of the composer, was to feel in the
truest sense the genius of Rossini, and the part that he played in the
music of the nineteenth century.

The name of Patti has always been associated with high prices, and not
without cause; for, although other singers have received larger sums for
isolated engagements, none have ever succeeded in maintaining such a
uniformly high rate.

When she returned to America in 1881, after an absence of some twenty
years, Patti held mistaken notions about the American people, and her
early concerts were a bitter disappointment. High prices and hackneyed
songs did not suit the public, and in order to make a success of the
tour Madame Patti was obliged to throw over her French manager, and
employ an American (Henry E. Abbey) who knew the public, and who
immediately cut the prices down to one-half. Eventually the season was
successful, both artistically and financially, her voice showing but
little sign of wear, and her execution being as brilliant as ever. At
Brooklyn the people took the horses out of her carriage, and dragged her
home,--one facetious writer remarking that he saw no reason for taking
away her horses, and substituting asses. The following clever rhyme, at
the expense of her manager, taken from "Puck," voices the opinion of the
public very neatly, in regard to Patti's tour, in 1881-2:

    Patti cake, Patti cake, Franchi man!
    "So I do, messieurs, comme vite as I can."
    "Roulez et tournez et marquez 'with care,'
    Et posez au publique a ten dollars a chair."

Farinelli is said to have made $30,000 per annum, a very large sum for
the times in which he lived. Catalani's profits ran almost to $100,000 a
season. Malibran received $95,000 for eighty-five performances at La
Scala. Jenny Lind, for ninety-five concerts, under Barnum's management,
received $208,675, all good figures. But Rubini is said to have made
$11,500 at one concert, and Tamagno is the highest-priced tenor of the
present day.

Patti at one time made a contract for a series of performances at $4,400
a night, and later on her fee was $5,000 a night, paid in advance, but
when she came to Boston in 1882, and sang in three performances given in
a week, her share of the receipts was $20,895. The attendance at the
Saturday matinee was 9,142 people, and her share of the receipts for
that performance alone was $8,395.

Madame Patti always had the advantage of excellent management. Until her
marriage with the Marquis de Caux she was under the management of her
brother-in-law, Maurice Strakosch, and so assiduous was he in his
protection of his young star from unnecessary wear and tear that he
became the subject of many jokes. It is said that he occasionally took
her place at rehearsals, that when visitors called on her they saw him
instead, and some people, with vivid imagination, declared that
Strakosch sat for Patti's photograph, and that he once offered to
receive a declaration of love for her.

One is apt to doubt the necessity of all this management, for Patti
seems to have been admirably adapted for self-defence, and even for
aggression in financial matters. An amusing anecdote is told of her by
Max Maretzek, who, one day, when she was a small child, in a moment of
generosity promised her a doll, or, as some accounts have it, some
bon-bons as a reward for singing in a concert. It was to be her very
first appearance. Patti did not forget the promise, and when it was
nearly time for her to sing she asked for her doll. Maretzek had
forgotten it, and promised that she should have it after the concert, or
the next day. But no, she must have it first, or she would not go on and
sing. The poor man was in despair. It was late and stores were all
closed, but by some means he succeeded in getting the bribe, whether
dolls or bon-bons, and, rushing back in breathless haste, he handed it
to her. Then she became cheerful at once, and giving it to her mother to
be taken care of, she went on and performed her part in the concert.

One of the most amusing of these anecdotes was told by Colonel Mapleson,
the well-known impresario, who says that no one ever approached Madame
Patti in the art of obtaining from a manager the greatest possible sum
that he could contrive by any possibility to pay. In 1882, owing to the
competition of Henry Abbey, the American impresario, Mapleson was
obliged to raise Patti's salary from $1,000 per night to $4,000, and,
finally, to $5,000 per night, a sum previously unheard-of in the annals
of opera. The price, moreover, was to be paid at two o'clock of the day
on which Patti was to sing.

On the second night of the engagement at Boston, Madame Patti was billed
to sing in "Traviata." Expenses had been heavy and the funds were low,
so that when Signor Franchi, Patti's agent, called at the theatre
promptly at two o'clock, only $4,000 could be scraped together. Signor
Franchi was indignant, and declared that the contract was broken, and
that Madame Patti would not sing. He refused to take the $4,000, and
went off to report the matter to the prima donna. At four o'clock,
Signor Franchi returned to the theatre, and congratulated Colonel
Mapleson on his facility for managing Madame Patti, saying that she
would do for the colonel that which she would do for no other
impresario. In short, Patti would take the $4,000 and dress for her
part, all except her shoes. She would arrive at the theatre at the
regular time, and when the remaining paltry $1,000 was forthcoming she
would put on her shoes and be ready to go on the stage.

Everything happened as Patti had promised. She arrived at the theatre
costumed as Violetta, but minus her shoes. Franchi called at the
box-office, but only $800 was on hand. The genial Signor took the money
and returned to Patti's room. He soon appeared again to say that Madame
Patti was all ready except one shoe, which she could not put on until
the remaining $200 was paid. It was already time for the performance to
begin, but people were still coming in, and after some slight delay
Signor Franchi was able to go in triumph to Madame Patti with the
balance of the amount. Patti put on her other shoe and proceeded to the
stage. She made her entrance at the proper time, her face radiant with
smiles, and no one in the audience had any idea of the stirring events
which had just taken place.

In later years, when Madame Patti invested some of her fortune in the
beautiful castle at Craig-y-Nos, in Wales, the people employed to put
the place into repair, knowing of her reputed wealth and extravagance,
sent in enormous bills. But Madame Patti was not to be imposed upon, and
the result was that the amounts melted down considerably under the
gentle influence of the law. The unkindest cut of all was, however,
when a Belgian gentleman, who had amused himself at Craig-y-Nos, who had
fished, shot, and been entertained, but who always managed to be present
during discussions on business, sent in a bill of L3,000 for his
services as agent.

Under the management of Colonel Mapleson, Patti travelled in most
luxurious style. She had a special car which is said to have cost
$65,000, and a whole retinue of servants. At Cheyenne, the legislature
and assembly adjourned and chartered a special car to meet the operatic
train. A military band was at the station, and nearly the whole
population turned out to witness the arrival. Tickets to the opera were
ten dollars each, and there was an audience of 3,000 people.

California seems to have been considered doubtful territory, for Patti
left the question undecided as to whether she would go so far. When she
did arrive it was merely as a visitor, but her delight with the
"heavenly place" was so great that she declared she _must_ sing there.
The necessary delay incurred by sending to Chicago for numerous trunks
containing her wardrobe, gave sufficient time for the excitement in San
Francisco to work up to fever heat. Tickets sold at unheard-of prices,
and more or less damage to property was done in the scramble.

Adelina Patti made her first matrimonial venture in 1868, when she was
united to the Marquis de Caux, an event which did not interfere with her
operatic career, for she filled an engagement of six weeks at Paris, and
then went on to St. Petersburg, where the town opened a subscription
which amounted to 100,000 rubles, and presented her with a diamond
necklace.

In 1885 Madame Patti obtained a divorce from the Marquis de Caux, from
whom she had separated in 1877, and the following year married Ernest
Nicolini, the tenor singer. Nicolini was a man of fine stage presence,
and, for a time, after the retirement of Mario, was considered the best
tenor on the stage. His voice was of moderate power and of pleasing
quality, but his tremolo was, to say the least, extensive. For some
years Madame Patti declined every engagement in which Nicolini was not
included, until the public indignation found vent in many protests.
Signor Nicolini seems to have been a devoted and admiring husband, and
to have entered heartily into the pleasures of the luxurious life of
Craig-y-Nos. He died in January, 1898.

After some years of retirement from the operatic stage, during which she
sang only in concerts, Patti made a reappearance at Covent Garden in
1895, and showed that her voice, notwithstanding nearly forty years of
use, was wonderfully well preserved. Nevertheless it was a
disappointment to those who had heard her in her prime. As a reason for
its preservation she says that she never sings when she is tired, and
never strains for high notes. Sir Morell Mackenzie, the great throat
specialist, said that she had the most wonderful throat he ever saw. It
was the only one in which the vocal cords were in absolutely perfect
condition after many years of use. They were not strained, warped, or
roughened in the slightest degree, but absolutely perfect, and there was
no reason why they should not remain so for ten or even twenty years
longer. It was by her voice alone that she charmed and delighted her
audiences, and she will doubtless be recorded as the possessor of the
most perfect voice of the nineteenth century. She witnessed the rise of
many rivals, but none ever equalled her in popularity, though many
excelled her in dramatic powers. Lucca, Sembrich, Nilsson, were all
greater as actresses, but of all the rivals of her prime only Sembrich
and Albani remain, and several years must elapse before their careers
will equal the length of Patti's.

Probably no other singer has succeeded in amassing so great a fortune as
Madame Patti. Her earnings enabled her to purchase, in 1878, the
beautiful estate in Wales, which she remodelled to suit her own ideas.
Here she has lived in regal style and entertained lavishly many of the
most noted people of the civilized world.

Her wealth is by no means confined to real estate, for she has a rare
collection of jewels, said to be the largest and most brilliant owned by
any of the modern actresses and opera singers. One of her gowns, worn in
the third act of "La Traviata," was covered with precious stones to the
value of $500,000.

Madame Patti's most popular roles were Juliet and Aida, and though she
created no new parts of importance, she has amply fulfilled the
traditional role of prima donna in matters of caprice and exaction, and
has even created some new precedents. In 1898 she was still before the
public, singing in concerts in London and elsewhere.




CHAPTER V.

PRIMA DONNAS OF THE SIXTIES.


At the middle of the century critics began to cry out about the
decadence of the vocal art, much as they have done at intervals during
the past two centuries, and with as little real cause. The great singers
of recent years had departed, and apparently none had arisen to take
their place, and yet the latter half of the century has been adorned by
stars who, as far as we are able to judge, are not inferior to those who
have gone before. It is probable that other stars also will arise who
will delight as large audiences and create as great excitement as Grisi,
Lind, and Malibran.

While it is undoubtedly true that declamation holds a more important
place in modern opera than it did in the operas of bygone days, and some
declare that the art of vocalization is extinct, yet singers who can
charm by pure vocalization are still as welcome as ever, though more is
expected of them in the dramatic branch of their art.

It is doubtful whether a greater trio of singers has been before the
public at any time than Patti, Lucca, and Nilsson, and yet they appeared
at a time when it was claimed that vocal art was dead.

During the first half of the century we have seen that some of the great
singers visited the United States. Garcia brought his daughter to
America, where she created a great sensation and found her first
husband. Sontag crossed the ocean, Grisi, Alboni, and Jenny Lind had
found appreciative audiences in America. Among the men, Incledon was the
first singer of importance to cross the water.

We now arrive at a period when not only many great singers, and some of
less repute, crossed the wild Atlantic for American dollars, but America
began to supply singers to the European market. When Colonel Mapleson
was interviewed in San Francisco during Patti's tour, he declared that
there were more than 2,000 American vocal students in Europe, and he
mentioned fifteen who had appeared under his management up to 1883. This
number included Patti, who could hardly be claimed as American, for she
was born in Madrid, of Italian parents. But between 1860 and 1870, Clara
Louise Kellogg, Minnie Hauk, and Annie Louise Gary were genuine
Americans, as was also Adelaide Phillips, who made her debut in 1854. In
later years the number increased till, at the present day, at least two
of the greatest artists among the prima donnas are of American origin,
while a large number have reached a high position and may be destined
for the greatest honors.

The star of the year 1860 was born in Vienna, made her debut there, and
remained there for some years. Marie Gabrielle Krauss was one of those
singers, who, with a voice far from perfect, was able by her style, her
phrasing, and her musical delivery, to which must be added the
incontestable power of dramatic accent, to be classed among the greatest
singers of her time. In 1867 she was engaged in Paris and sung there for
many years, except during the Franco-Prussian war.

In 1861, Carlotta Patti made her debut, but she was obliged to abandon
the operatic stage on account of lameness. She was an elder sister of
Adelina Patti, and for many years was very popular on the concert stage,
sharing with her sister wonderful facility of execution and beautiful
quality of voice. Probably no singer of her time travelled so
extensively as Carlotta Patti, who is said to have visited every part of
the world in which a concert could be successfully given. In 1879 she
married Mr. Ernst de Munck, of Weimar, a violoncellist, but ten years
later she died.

Clara Louise Kellogg was one of the early American singers, who, though
her great musical gifts enabled her to win triumphs in opera in the
great musical centres of the world, devoted the prime of her life to
giving English opera in her native land.

Miss Kellogg was born in Sumterville, S. C., in 1842, but in 1856 she
went, with her mother, who had considerable musical ability, to New
York, in order to continue the musical education which her mother had
begun. In 1861, before she had completed her nineteenth year, she made
her debut at the Academy of Music, in "Rigoletto" as Gilda, and sang
during the season about a dozen times.

In 1867 she appeared at Her Majesty's Theatre in London as Margherita,
and was reengaged for the following year. She then returned to the
United States and made a concert tour which lasted for four years. In
1872 she was back again in London at Her Majesty's.

In 1874 she organized an English Opera company in America, translating
the words, training the chorus, and doing most of the hard work of the
enterprise herself. Such was her ardor and enthusiasm that she sang in
the winter of 1874-5 no less than one hundred and twenty-five times.
From that time until 1882, she was constantly before the public in opera
or concert, and in addition to her musical talents she was remarkable
for business ability. Her voice was of large compass and great purity,
and when she retired she left a memory of a good, exemplary life, full
of benevolent actions.

It is said that in her youth she was engaged to be married to a
schoolmate, but the marriage was necessarily to wait until they had
sufficient means. She went on the stage, was successful, and wrote to
him saying that she had sufficient money and was ready. He, however,
felt it incumbent upon him to provide at least a capital equal to hers,
and desired a further postponement. This annoyed her, and her enthusiasm
cooled off. Money-making was a slow process with him, and before he had
satisfied his conscience she had announced her engagement to another
man. Miss Kellogg retired in 1882, and married Mr. Strakosch, a son of
the celebrated impresario.

During Miss Kellogg's travels in the United States she visited with her
company a great many towns which have since become music-loving cities,
and she met with many highly amusing experiences, besides some which
were less amusing than instructive. She has exerted an educational
influence throughout the country which it would be difficult to
over-estimate; indeed, it can be claimed that the ambition of many young
Americans to study music owes its origin to the efforts of those who,
like Miss Kellogg, visited the smaller towns, and made it possible for a
large number of people to enjoy music of a high order.

The year 1862 produced a singer of great ability, Ilma di Murska, a
native of Croatia, one of the most brilliant sopranos, and one of the
most eccentric women of her time. There seems to be considerable
uncertainty about her early life, both as to birth and marriage. By some
authorities it is stated that she was born in 1843, the year in which
Patti, Nilsson, and (some say) Lucca were born. On the other hand, the
date of her birth is placed both in 1836 and 1837, and there are many
reasons for supposing that one of these earlier dates is the right one.

Concerning her first marriage, one authority states that her first
husband was Count Nugent, a descendant of a renowned Irish officer of
that name, by whom she had a son and a daughter, and that the son
committed suicide in 1876. Another account is that in early life she
married General Eider, from whom she separated on account of her
eccentricities, which made it impossible for him to live happily with
her. This account speaks of her daughter, and it is tolerably well
established that she did have a daughter, for that young lady played an
important and not particularly creditable part in the history of the
talented singer. It is not impossible that she may have married both
Count Nugent and General Eider, for she certainly married frequently,
and in that respect holds a unique place, even in the list of
much-married prima donnas.

Madame di Murska was tall and slender in figure, of striking appearance,
and with features not specially attractive, but her vigor and
originality were remarkable. Her impersonations were full of life, and,
while she occasionally exaggerated in gesture or expression, she
invariably held the attention of her audience. She sang the most
difficult passages, and gave the most florid ornamentation, with ease
and certainty.

As Lucia, Astrofiammante, and Dinorah, she made a great sensation, even
at a time when Adelina Patti was considered to be perfection in those
parts. The writer remembers her in "Roberto" at Drury Lane, when her
impassioned acting resulted in a very funny incident. While she sang the
beautiful aria, "Robert, toi que j'aime," the object of her adoration
reposed in oblivion on a red plush sofa. In her abandon she let her face
rest for a moment on the head of the sofa, where, when she arose, there
remained a large, white patch, which aroused the audience to laughter,
in spite of themselves. Truly, the step from the sublime to the
ridiculous is very small.

Ilma di Murska made her debut at Florence, after which she sang at
Pesth, Vienna, Berlin, Hamburg, and London. Her memory is said to have
been remarkable, and her facility in learning equally so, for she could
learn her part by merely reading it, sometimes in bed, from the score.
In 1873 she made a tour in the United States, an account of which was
once given by Mr. de Vivo,[1] who was her manager. During this tour her
eccentricities caused her manager much anxiety, for at times when he
needed money, and, having paid large sums to her, felt confident that
she was able to furnish funds, she had always sent her earnings to her
daughter, who seems to have kept her in a chronic state of poverty. The
company travelled across this continent, and went to Australia and New
Zealand. During the Australian tour Madame di Murska became very much
interested in Alfred Anderson, a young musician belonging to the
company. He fell into bad health, and, when confined to his room by
sickness, the eccentric singer insisted upon nursing him. Soon
afterwards they were quietly married. They were then in Sidney, and the
marriage took place in December, 1875. Mr. Anderson continued so ill
that he was obliged to return to Melbourne, his native city, where he
went to his father's house. It seems that the family were opposed to the
marriage, for Madame di Murska was refused admission, and was obliged to
stay at a hotel. There seem also to have been some peculiar financial
transactions, for, according to accounts, when Mr. Anderson died, which
was some three or four months after the marriage, Madame di Murska lost
a large sum of money. This experience, however, did not by any means
crush her, for in May, 1876, five months after her marriage to Anderson,
she fearlessly embarked on another matrimonial venture, this time taking
as her partner for life Mr. John T. Hill. This union does not seem to
have been permanent, for nothing more is heard of Mr. Hill in connection
with Madame di Murska.

[1] Mr. Diego de Vivo died in New York, on August 11, 1898, at the age
of seventy-six. He was instrumental in introducing to the American
public many artists who have become well-known.

In Australia, di Murska never attained the same popularity that attended
her efforts in Europe, her peculiarities were so marked. She is said to
have always refused to be interviewed, or to see any one at her hotel,
and she used to spend her time in training a lot of parrots, magpies,
cockatoos, monkeys, and other creatures, to sing. She had a wagon-load
of pets, which were taken from town to town, wherever she sang, and were
an unmitigated nuisance. She also had a big Newfoundland dog, named
Pluto, for whom a cover was always laid at the dinner table. Pluto
dined on capon and other dainties, and was a model in regard to table
manners. Her parrots cost her a great deal of money, for they had a
decided antipathy to silk or damask upholstery, particularly to flowered
patterns, but Madame di Murska always seemed pleased when the bills for
the depredations of her pets were presented to her.

Once while the company was at Glasgow, one of the members fed a parrot
with parsley till it died. Di Murska called in two learned Scotch
professors to hold a post-mortem examination, and they decided that the
bird had died of wall-paper, and charged three guineas for their
opinion.

Some few years later Madame di Murska was induced to return to the
United States, where a position was secured for her in New York as a
vocal teacher, but although possessed of undoubted talent, she
completely failed to impart it to her pupils, nor was she any longer
successful in concerts. Her money, which had been sent to her daughter
as fast as she earned it, had all been squandered, and she fell into the
direst poverty. The musicians of New York interested themselves in her
behalf, and sufficient money was raised to send her home. She survived
but a short time, and, in 1889, on January 4, her troubled life ended.
It was an extremely sad termination to a brilliant career, and its
sadness was emphasized by the fact that her daughter, whose happiness
had seemed her greatest solicitude, committed suicide over her grave. It
is said that General Eider, hearing of the tragic event, caused a stone
to be erected at the graves of his eccentric wife and daughter.

One of the most important and brilliant rivals of Adelina Patti was
Christine Nilsson, a Swede.

Miss Nilsson was the only daughter of a poor farmer at Sjoeabal, near
Wexio. She was born in 1843, the same year in which Patti was born, and
was seven years younger than her youngest brother, who was the third son
of his parents, and who, being of a musical nature, had studied the
violin in the best way that he could without a teacher. He turned his
talent to account by playing at balls in the neighboring villages.

When Christine was nine years old she was wont to sing the native
melodies of her country, and she, too, learned to play her brother's
violin in order to accompany her voice.

When she reached her twelfth year, her mother used to take her to the
neighboring fairs, where, her golden hair tied simply under a
handkerchief, she played and sang to admiring rustics, who would
contribute their small donations to her brother, who passed his hat
around.

At the age of thirteen came a turning-point in her career. She was at a
fair in Llungby, when a ventriloquist, who had set up his booth near
where she was singing, finding that all the trade passed him and went to
her, came over and made a bargain, offering her twenty francs to sing at
his booth during the remaining eight days of the fair. While singing for
her new employer, she attracted the attention of Judge Toernerheljm, who
was touched by her beauty, her grace, and the delightful tones of her
voice. He resolved to rescue her from the career of a vagrant musician,
and asking about her father and mother, said that he would take her and
place her with a lady who would be kind to her. The simple little maid
replied that she could not break her contract with the ventriloquist,
but the judge agreed to satisfy him. So she sent her brother home to
tell the story and ask advice. He returned with a message from her
parents saying that she was to go, but not to come home first, as they
could not bear to part with her if she did.

Accordingly Christine went with Judge Toernerheljm, who placed her with
the Baroness Leuhusen, formerly a vocal teacher, from whom the young
singer received her first lessons, and, at the same time, attended
school in Halmstadt. In due time she went to Stockholm, where she took
lessons under Franz Berwald, and in six months' time she sang at Court.

The young singer now went to Paris accompanied by Baroness Leuhusen, and
began a course of lessons under Wartel. She so profited by his
instruction, that she made her debut at the Theatre Lyrique on October
27, 1864, as Violetta in "La Traviata," and afterwards appeared as Lady
Henrietta, Astrofiammante, Elvira ("Don Giovanni"), etc. She remained at
the Theatre Lyrique nearly three years, after which she went to England
and sang at Her Majesty's, making her first appearance as Violetta, on
June 8, 1867. Notwithstanding that Patti had the world at her feet, the
success of Nilsson was extremely brilliant, her impersonation of
Marguerite in "Faust" calling forth unstinted praise, and it is the
opinion of many that in that part she has never been excelled. Her
representation of Marguerite was that of a quiet, simple girl, full of
maidenly reserve during the first three acts, a deep-natured young girl,
restrained from the full expression of her feelings by every instinct of
her better nature, and every rule of her daily life. This very
forbearance of style made her final surrender a thousand times more
impressive than is usual. It was accomplished in one wild, unlooked-for
rush of sudden emotion, caused by the unexpected return of her lover.
The picture which Nilsson gave of this tender, gentle girl, in the
pensive, anxious joy of her first love, and in the despair and misery of
her darkened life, was one over which painters and poets might well go
wild with enthusiasm.

Nilsson had a voice of wonderful sweetness and beauty, and possessed the
most thorough skill in vocalization. She could reach with ease F in alt,
and showed to advantage in such operas as "Zauberfloete." Her singing was
cold, clever, and shrewd, and she calculated her effects so well, that
her audience was impressed by the semblance of her being deeply moved.
The eulogies of London and Paris dwelt more upon her acting than upon
her singing, more upon her infusion of her own individuality into
Marguerite, Lucia, and Ophelia than upon any merely vocal achievement.
She was considered a dramatic artist of the finest intuitions, the most
magnetic presence, and the rarest expressive powers. There was, too, a
refinement, a completeness, and an imaginative quality in her acting,
which was altogether unique.

[Illustration: _Nilsson as Valentine._]

From 1870 to the spring of 1872 Miss Nilsson was in America, where she
met with a perfect ovation. In 1872 she returned to London, and in July
was married by Dean Stanley, in Westminster Abbey, to M. Auguste
Rouzeaud, of Paris. She visited America again in the season of 1873-4.
In 1881, Nilsson sang in opera for the last time, but continued to sing
in oratorio and concerts until 1888, since which time she has remained
in the seclusion of private life.

According to Maurice Strakosch, Miss Nilsson once visited a celebrated
palmist, Desbarolles, who examined her hand, and told her that she would
encounter many troubles, of which most would be caused by madness or by
fire. This prophecy proved to be true, for several times during her
American tour she was annoyed by insane lovers. In New York, she was
obliged to seek the protection of the court from a man who pestered her
with attentions, and again in Chicago she had a very unpleasant
experience, both of which affairs caused some sensation at the time. But
more serious than these incidents was the loss of a great part of her
savings through the Boston fire, and this was followed in 1882 by the
death of her husband, M. Rouzeaud, from insanity, caused by mental worry
over business reverses.

The events which led up to Nilsson's retirement from the operatic stage
are told by Colonel Mapleson, but it must be remembered that he was a
man much harassed by the peculiarities of prima donnas, and his
experiences with Madame Nilsson were not the least of his trials.

In 1868 Nilsson was so successful that she revived the drooping fortunes
of Her Majesty's Theatre, which had recently been burnt down. At the
same time Patti was singing at Covent Garden. Nilsson felt that her
achievements were equal to those of Patti, and justified her in
regarding herself as Patti's successful rival. Thus, whenever Patti
secured a large sum for her services, Nilsson demanded as much. When
competition became keen between Mapleson and Abbey, the American
impresario, Mapleson made overtures to Nilsson, as Abbey was outbidding
him for Patti, but the Swedish singer would accept no engagement at less
than Patti's figures. Feeling that Patti was the strongest drawing card,
Mapleson gave up the idea of playing Nilsson against her, and determined
to outbid Abbey for Patti. This competition resulted in the
establishment of Patti's price of $5,000 a performance, and Nilsson was
left without an engagement.

In 1884 she made a concert tour in the United States, when Brignoli sang
with her. He once caused some merriment, which went the round of the
papers, when he came forward, in a Missouri town, to apologize for
Nilsson's slight indisposition. "Madame Nilsson ees a leetle horse," he
said. Noticing a ripple of laughter amongst the audience, he repeated
the statement that Nilsson "was a leetle horse," when a facetious
occupant of the gallery brought down the house by remarking, "Well,
then, why don't you trot her out?" Brignoli was a very useful tenor, and
toured the country many times with various prima donnas. He was as full
of oddities as of music, and a very amusing story is told of him in
connection with an Havana engagement. It appears that he was displeased
at his reception, so he decided that on the next night he would punish
the people by having a sore throat. He sent notice at the proper time to
the manager, who, according to the laws of the country, was obliged to
report the fact to the government. A doctor was sent by the authorities
to ascertain the state of his health, and finding no sign of
indisposition looked very serious, and told the tenor that it was a
case of yellow fever. This so frightened the capricious singer that he
declared himself perfectly able to sing, and he took his revenge by
singing so finely that he outshone his previous reputation, and
electrified his audience.

Nilsson's first care, when she began to accrue wealth, was to purchase
farms for her parents and her brother. When she returned to Sweden in
her prime she met with such a reception as had not been known since the
time of Jenny Lind. She entered enthusiastically into the life of her
compatriots, played dances for them on the violin, as she had done in
the days of her childhood, and sang the songs of her country.

In 1887 Madame Nilsson married a second time, choosing for her husband
Count Casa di Miranda, and after her farewell concerts, given in 1888,
retired permanently.

During her stage career Nilsson gave to the world new and refined
interpretations of many well-known roles, but her only creation was the
part of Edith in Balfe's "Talismano," though when Boito's
"Mephistophele" was first produced in England, in 1880, she sang the
part of Margaret. She also gave a remarkable dramatic and poetical
interpretation of the part of Elsa in "Lohengrin."

Of all the singers of German opera, by which we now mean _Wagner_, none
has attained so great a reputation as Frau Amalie Materna. With a
soprano voice of unusual volume, compass, and sustaining power, a fine
stage presence, and great musical and dramatic intelligence Frau Materna
left nothing to be desired in certain rules.

Amalie Materna was born in Styria at a place named St. Georgen, where
her father was a schoolmaster. This was in 1847, and when she was twelve
years of age her father died, leaving his family penniless.

Amalie and an older brother found means to go to Vienna where a music
teacher tried her voice, and though he saw great promise in it he
declined to undertake her musical education on such terms as she could
offer. Sadly disappointed, Amalie joined her mother and another brother
at St. Peter in Upper Styria, and lived there for the three following
years, when the family migrated to Gratz.

It is related that Suppe, the composer, sometimes spent his summer
holiday at Gratz with some old friends. Every evening the party would
gather in the garden to play skittles. When ready to begin they would
call to the woman next door to send the "lad" to set up the skittles.
The "lad" was a sprightly, black-eyed girl named "Maly" Materna.

One day Suppe happened to hear her sing, and struck by the beauty of her
voice, called the attention of Kapellmeister Zaitz, also a visitor at
Gratz. Soon after this "Maly" became a member of the chorus at the
Landes theatre, and by Suppe's advice Treumann engaged her for Vienna.
She had meanwhile developed her voice.

Materna's first salary was forty gulden a month, but her first
appearance was so successful that this was raised to one hundred gulden.
For two years she sang in Offenbachian roles, and it was at the
termination of her second season that she became engaged at the Karl
Theatre in Vienna, at a yearly salary of five thousand gulden, with an
extra honorarium of five gulden for each performance.

While appearing nightly in the light works of the French and German
composers of the time, Fraulein Materna studied diligently during the
day at the more exacting roles of heavy opera with Professor Proch, and
in 1868 sang, in the presence of Hoffkapellmeister Esser, Donna Elvira's
grand air from "Don Giovanni."

Esser was delighted with her, and insisted that Hofrath Dingelstedt
should give the young singer a hearing, and the result was that she was
engaged for the Imperial Opera House.

Shortly after her engagement at the theatre in Gratz she married an
actor named Friedrich, who was engaged with her when she went to the
Karl Theatre, Vienna.

In 1869 she made her debut at the Imperial Opera House in the role of
Selika, in the "Africaine," in which part she was able to demonstrate
her capabilities, for she won a signal success, and was at once placed
in a high position among opera singers of the German school.

Still higher honors were in store for her. In 1876, twenty-eight years
after its first conception, "Der Ring des Nibelungen" of Wagner was
performed entire at Bayreuth, on which occasion the part of Brunhilde
was entrusted to Frau Materna. The really magnificent impersonation
which she gave earned for her a world-wide reputation. It was a part for
which she was exceptionally well qualified, and in which she never had
an equal. It is stated that Wagner, hearing Materna sing at Vienna while
she was at the Imperial Opera House, and while the production of the
Nibelungen Trilogy was uppermost in his mind, exclaimed: "Now I have
found my Brunhilde. I take her with thanks. I am glad to have found her
in Vienna."

During the Wagner festival, which was held in London in 1877, Materna
confirmed the high reputation which she had gained in Germany, and when
"Parsifal" was produced in 1882 at Bayreuth, Materna created the part of
Kundry.

In 1882 she visited the United States, singing in New York, Cincinnati,
and Chicago, and again in 1884 she crossed the Atlantic and sang in the
Wagner festival of that year with Scaria and Winkelmann, all of whom
made good impressions and helped to pave the way for the production of
the operas entire.

Frau Materna retired from the stage in 1897, on which occasion she sang
in a concert given in the hall of the Musical Union in Vienna. A
remarkable gathering of musicians and celebrities was there. Materna's
first number was the entrance aria of Elizabeth from "Tannhaeuser," which
was given with such dramatic force that one could not fail to ask, "Is
this the singer who is about to retire?" Her great triumph came,
however, in the last number, which was "Isolden's Liebestod," and as her
wonderful voice, full of passion and dramatic power, rang through the
hall, the enthusiasm of the audience knew no bounds. After being
recalled many times Frau Materna was obliged to make a speech of thanks,
in which she touchingly referred to the many years which she had passed
at Vienna, and to the fact that Wagner had found her there and entrusted
her with the creation of his greatest parts.

In private life Materna is simple and unaffected. She is as
unpretentious in her personality as she is great in her talent. She has
the unassuming manners which so endeared Parepa-Rosa to the hearts of
the people.

As an artist she may best be called a vocal musician. She was not a
vocal technician of the school of Jenny Lind, Nilsson, Patti, or
Gerster. Her voice, though unable to give phenomenal runs, trills, or
cadenzas, was adequately trained, and was of remarkable richness and
breadth. The work of the poet rather than of the singing teacher was
apparent in her interpretations, and the dramatic intensity and
passionate force of her delivery were effective even upon the concert
stage. It is doubtful whether any singer will ever combine more of the
qualities which are essential to the perfect interpretation of Wagner's
operas, and Materna may, therefore, be set down as the greatest singer
of her school.

Materna's original contract for three years at the Imperial Opera House
was many times renewed, and she scarcely ever left Vienna during the
season. Occasionally she was heard in Frankfort, Berlin, Hamburg, and
Leipzig. She also sang in London in the Wagner concerts, and she visited
the United States several times. Since her retirement, she has left
Vienna to take up her permanent abode in the Chateau St. Johann, near
Gratz, which she has purchased.

When Bizet wrote "Carmen" he intended it for Marie Roze, a versatile
artist of the French stage. She, however, had made an engagement in
England which prevented her from creating the role as intended, and it
was re-written for Madame Galli-Marie, but although she at first had
made some objections to the character which Carmen was supposed to
represent, she afterwards became famous in that part.

Marie Roze was born in Paris in 1846, and in 1865 gained first prizes at
the Paris Conservatoire in singing and comic opera. In the same year she
made her debut at the Opera Comique, and was engaged for the following
four years, during which she appeared in many roles. Her operatic career
was uniformly successful; she made several tours of Europe, and came to
America in 1877, after which she became a member of the Carl Rosa Opera
Company.

At the outbreak of the Franco-German war, she left the opera and joined
the army, serving with the greatest zeal in the ambulance department.
For her services during that struggle and during the siege of Paris, she
received the Geneva Cross and a diploma from M. Thiers.

Mlle. Roze married Mr. Perkins, a promising American bass singer, but
his career was cut short by death in 1875. She afterwards became the
wife of Colonel Henry Mapleson, the impresario, but the marriage did not
prove to be a happy one, and they separated some years later. One cannot
help wondering that Mapleson, whose experience with prima donnas had
been so harassing, should have allied himself matrimonially to one of
that ilk, but it is probable that his experiences had warped his nature,
for in the scandal which the separation caused, public sympathy was with
the wife. Madame Roze was the possessor of great personal attractions,
and in her early days was once so pestered by an admirer that she sought
the protection of the police. The aggressive youth, a French gentleman
who had threatened to destroy her beauty with vitriol unless she favored
his suit, attempted one night to scale the wall and enter her window.
The guard fired and the misguided young man dropped dead.

Madame Roze has of late taken up her residence again in Paris, where she
teaches, and occasionally sings at concerts.

The year 1868 brought forth another great exponent of Wagnerian
characters to whom has been accorded by many good critics a very high
rank among dramatic sopranos. Lilli Lehmann was born in 1848 at
Wurzburg, and was taught singing by her mother, who was formerly a harp
player and prima donna at Cassel under Spohr, and the original heroine
of several operas written by that master.

Fraulein Lehmann's position in the operatic world was not won suddenly.
She made her first appearance in Prague as the First Boy in
"Zauberfloete," after which she filled engagements in Dantzig (1868) and
Leipzig (1870). In the latter year she appeared at Berlin as Vielka, and
was so successful that she received a further engagement. In 1876 she
was appointed Imperial Chamber singer.

She now began to sing in Wagner's operas, taking the parts of Woglinde
and Helmwige, and she sang the "Bird" music in Wagner's trilogy at
Bayreuth. In 1880 she made a successful appearance in England as
Violetta, and again as Philine in "Mignon." She also sang at Her
Majesty's Theatre for two seasons, and in 1884 she went to Covent Garden
and made a substantial success as Isolde. The following year she visited
the United States, and for several years was frequently heard in German
opera, acquiring a great reputation, but in 1892 she was taken ill and
returned to Germany. At that time the condition of her health was such
that it was feared she would never sing again; but in 1896 she
reappeared and was engaged to sing at Bayreuth, where she electrified
the world by her magnificent performance. One of the critics wrote
regarding the event: "Lehmann is the greatest dramatic singer alive,
despite the fact that her voice is no longer fresh; but her art is
consummate, her tact so delicate, and her appreciation of the dramatic
situation so accurate, that to see her simply in repose is keen
pleasure."

Like all the greatest Wagnerian singers, her reputation was made in work
of a very different nature. It was, indeed, because of her ability to
sing music of the Italian school that she was so highly successful in
the Wagner roles, and it may be stated that her long career, and
Materna's, are sufficient refutation of the oft-repeated assertion, that
Wagner opera wears out a singer's voice rapidly.

In 1888 Lilli Lehmann married Paul Kalisch, of Berlin, a tenor singer of
good repute. The marriage took place after an engagement of several
years, and was carried out, in a most informal manner, in New York.
Herr Kalisch telegraphed one afternoon to a clergyman to the effect that
he was coming at five o'clock to be married. The clergyman held himself
in readiness, the couple arrived promptly, and the knot was tied. During
the few years of retirement, Frau Lehmann-Kalisch resided in Berlin,
where she devoted her time to teaching the vocal art, but since her
Bayreuth appearance of 1896, she has revisited America, and renewed her
former triumphs.

Minnie Hauk will be remembered as the creator (in London) of "Carmen,"
in Bizet's opera of that name. The opera had not been very successful in
Paris, but when it was produced at Her Majesty's, in London, Miss Hauk
demonstrated that she was not only a singer of more than ordinary
ability, but possessed also considerable dramatic power.

Miss Hauk was born in New York, in 1852. Her father was a German, and a
scholar of high reputation, who, having taken part in the revolutionary
movement of 1848, went to New York, where he married an American lady.
On account of her health he was obliged to take her, and the child,
Minnie, to the West, and they settled at Leavenworth, Kan., where Mr.
Hauk acquired some property. At this time Kansas was still peopled by
Indians, and life was rough and unsettled. Amidst wars, inundations,
hurricanes, and attacks from Indians, Minnie Hauk spent her early
childhood.

Her mother's health did not improve even under these stimulating
conditions, and the family moved to New Orleans, taking passage in a
steamer owned by Mr. Hauk. This vessel was lost during the voyage, but
the family arrived safely in New Orleans, in time to witness the siege
of that city during the War of the Rebellion,--the burning of the cotton
presses and ships, the battle, and the occupation by Northern troops,
all form most interesting and striking recollections. Yet amidst the
scene of strife, the young girl was singing from morning till night,
roaming about the plantations surrounding the city, climbing trees,
imitating the songs of birds. The <DW64>s on the plantations taught her
their songs, she learned to play the banjo, and she organized theatrical
performances amongst her playmates. All her inclinations pointed to a
stage career, and when a concert was arranged for the benefit of the
widows and orphans of the war, she was invited to sing, though not more
than twelve years old.

This was her first appearance in public, and the pieces which she sang
were "Casta Diva," and a selection from Auber's "Crown Diamonds." Her
success in this concert was so great, that when the family returned to
New York, she was placed under Signor Errani to begin her operatic
education. She made rapid progress, and after several essays at the
private theatre of Mr. Leonard Jones, she made a successful debut at the
Academy of Music, singing the part of Amina in "La Sonnambula," and
becoming at once a popular singer. This was in 1868, and later in the
same year she made her debut in London.

Under the management of Maurice Strakosch she made a tour through
Holland and Russia, and was also well received in Vienna, in 1870, at
the Imperial Opera House. In 1874, she was invited to join the Royal
Opera House at Berlin, as leading prima donna, by the express desire of
Emperor William and the Empress Augusta. Here she remained four years.

In 1877 she appeared at the Theatre de la Monnaie, Brussels, and in 1878
she returned to America. During the spring seasons of 1878 to 1880, she
sang on alternate nights with Nilsson, at Her Majesty's in London. She
made a brilliant record both in Europe and America, as a leading star of
Her Majesty's Opera Company during the seasons of 1881-2-3-4-5-6, but of
late years has not been heard in opera.

Mapleson gives Miss Hauk credit for being one of the most capricious of
prima donnas, and declares that he generally received three or four
notes a day from her containing complaints or requests. She married in
1876 Chevalier Hesse von Wartegg, who has written some interesting books
on Tunis and Algiers.




CHAPTER VI.

PRIMA DONNAS OF THE SEVENTIES.


The decade beginning with the year 1860 was remarkably prolific in
singers, producing not only the prima donnas whose careers we have
reviewed in the previous chapters, but also some of the finest
contralto, tenor, and baritone singers of the latter part of the
century. With each decade we find the American singer more in evidence.
We have had Clara Louise Kellogg and Minnie Hauk, the sopranos, Adelaide
Phillips, contralto, and Annie Louise Cary, and the number increases as
we proceed, until we find American singers standing on an artistic
equality with the best that the world can produce.

The decade of 1870 opens with a prima donna from the American
continent,--a singer who has held her place in public estimation for
nearly thirty years, Madame Albani. While she was not such a marvellous
colorature singer as Patti or Gerster, she combined so many excellent
qualities that she is justly entitled to a position among the great
singers of the century. As one critic expressed his opinion, she was
"beautiful, tuneful, birdlike, innocent, and ladylike," to which might
be added, "always reliable."

Madame Albani's family name was Marie Louise Cecilia Emma Lajeunesse,
and she was born, in 1850, of French-Canadian parents at Chambly, near
Montreal. Her father was a professor of the harp, so she began life in a
musical atmosphere. When she was five years of age the family moved to
Montreal, and she was placed in the convent of the Sacre Coeur, where
she received her education, and such musical instruction as the convent
could provide. In 1864 the family again moved, this time to Albany, N.
Y., and when Mlle. Lajeunesse entered upon her professional career, she
adopted the name of this city, because it was here that she decided upon
becoming a professional singer.

While singing in the choir of the Catholic Cathedral she attracted the
attention of the bishop by her beautiful voice, and he strongly urged
her father to take her to Europe, and place her under proper masters for
the development of her remarkable talent. To provide the necessary
funds, a concert was given in Albany, after which Mlle. Lajeunesse and
her father proceeded to Paris, where she commenced her studies with
Duprez. After some months she went on to Milan, where she became a pupil
of Lamperti, who thought so highly of her that he dedicated to her a
treatise on "the shake." In 1870 she made her debut at Messina, in the
Sonnambula, after which she sang for a time at Florence.

In 1872 she obtained an engagement in London, and on April 2d appeared
at the Royal Italian Opera, Covent Garden. The beautiful qualities of
her voice and the charm of her appearance were at once appreciated, and
before the end of the season she was firmly established in the favor of
the public. Later in the season she appeared in Paris, and then returned
to Milan for further study, but so favorable an impression had she made,
that she was engaged for the season of 1873 in London. She then went to
St. Petersburg, after which she revisited America, and sang again in the
Cathedral at Albany.

In 1878 Albani married Mr. Ernest Gye, the lessee of Covent Garden
Theatre, and for many years was one of the permanent attractions at that
house. She has visited America several times, and has also sung in most
of the large cities of Europe, where her reputation has been steadily
maintained.

Madame Albani's honors have not all been won in opera, though she has an
immense repertoire, including Italian, French, and German operas. She is
also one of the foremost concert and oratorio singers, and has had the
honor of creating numerous soprano parts at the great festivals. At the
request of Sir Arthur Sullivan, she travelled from Brussels to Berlin
expressly to sing the part of "Elsie" in the "Golden Legend," at its
second performance in that city. She had created the part when it was
produced in 1886.

In England, where Madame Albani has made her home for so many years, she
is as popular and as highly respected on account of her domestic life,
as on account of her artistic career, and her friends are not only
numerous but include many of the most intellectual people of the day.

Notwithstanding the success which Madame Albani made in England, France,
Russia, and other countries, she had her trials and disappointments. At
one time, when she was singing at La Scala, in Milan, she was suffering
from a slight hoarseness. Most audiences would have been indulgent, but
not so the Milanese, who are particularly cruel to singers who have made
their reputation in other places. The Milanese hissed and groaned.
Huskiness in a singer was, to them, a crime. The tenor, seeing how
matters stood, was taken with a sudden indisposition, and left Albani to
carry on the performance alone. The opera was "Lucia," and it proceeded
no farther than the mad scene, for Madame Albani, indignant at the
treatment accorded her, turned her back on the audience, and in a most
dignified manner, marched off the stage, leaving the curtain to fall on
a scene of confusion. No entreaties or arguments on the part of the
impresario would induce her to finish the opera, or even to continue her
engagement at La Scala.

Colonel Mapleson tells this story concerning Albani's first London
engagement. He heard of her singing at a small theatre at Malta, and,
thinking that she would be successful, he made her an offer, through an
agent, of a contract to sing at Her Majesty's Theatre. She agreed to it,
and went to London, but, on arriving there, she told the cabman to drive
her to the "Italian Opera House." He, instead of going to Her Majesty's,
took her to Covent Garden, which was also devoted to Italian opera. She
was shown up to the manager's office, and stated that she had come to
sign the contract which Mr. Mapleson had offered her. Mr. Gye, thinking
to play a joke on his rival, Mapleson, made out a contract, and Albani
signed it. Mr. Gye then told her that he was not Colonel Mapleson, but
that he could do much better for her. He offered to tear up the
contract if she liked, but told her that Nilsson was singing at Her
Majesty's and would brook no rival. Albani decided to let the contract
stand, and thus became one of the stars of Covent Garden, eventually
marrying the son of Mr. Gye.

Concerning Albani's singing in Berlin, the _Berliner Tageblatt_ said:
"The lady possesses an exceedingly peculiar organ, trained in a
remarkable manner, and no one else has a voice which can be compared to
it. It is not extensive in its range; the lower chest notes of the
one-line octave might be fuller and more powerful, but the upper
register is distinguished for enchanting sweetness, unfailing
correctness, and, what is especially worthy of notice, a softness
enabling the lady to breathe forth the gentlest pianissimo in passages
which others can reach only with the greatest effort. Runs, staccatos,
and shakes are not merely certain and pleasing, but, as regards form,
so graceful that we listen to them with delight."

An interesting anecdote concerning Madame Albani, and one which may tend
to confirm the faith of those who doubt theorists, is to the effect
that, when she was young and unknown, she paid a visit to a throat
specialist, who had a theory that, by examination, it is possible for an
expert to tell whether the possessor has an organ susceptible of
producing a fine singer, even if he does not know music, and never sang
a note.

After examining Albani, without knowing her particular reason for
consulting him, he exclaimed: "My dear young lady, Nature has given you
a wonderful organ. You can, if you will, become one of the greatest of
singers. If you possess dramatic ability equal to the endowment of your
throat, you can become a famous lyric artist, and I advise you to
devote your energies to the cultivation of your powers."

The young singer thanked him, and disappeared. Some years after, he went
West, and one day in Chicago, a handsomely dressed lady entered his
office. "Don't you know me?" she said. But he was unable to recall her
last visit, until she revealed her name, and related the whole incident,
when he seemed very much surprised at the proof of his own wisdom.

In 1898 Madame Albani paid a visit to South Africa, where she had a
grand reception. After a career of nearly thirty years, she is still as
popular as ever.

The history of Emma Abbott is one which will be read with interest by
all struggling and ambitious young people, for it is a story of brave
battling against innumerable difficulties. Miss Abbott was the daughter
of a poor music teacher, of Peoria, Illinois. Her early years gave her
an acquaintance with hardship which, perhaps, enabled her to keep up
her courage in the face of all obstacles. Imbued with the desire to help
the family finances, she got the idea of giving a concert on her own
account, for even as a small child she had a beautiful voice. At the age
of thirteen, when she went to Mount Pulaski, on a visit to some friends,
she put her idea into execution. She was trusted by the printer for her
programmes and handbills. She posted her notices with her own hand, and
secured a good audience. Her proceeds amounted to ten dollars, of which
three dollars went to settle her bills, and with the remaining seven
dollars she returned in triumph to her mother. After this, she gave
guitar lessons to pay her schooling. At the age of sixteen, she heard of
a vacancy for a school-teacher, and walked nine miles to see the school
committee, with the result that, in recognition of her pluck, the place
was given to her. Four months later she gave her first large concert in
Peoria, and made one hundred dollars. She now travelled to various
places giving concerts and fell in with an opera company from Chicago,
the manager of which induced her to join the company. In due course the
company broke up, and Miss Abbott found herself without money, but a
kind-hearted railroad man advised her to go to New York, and present
herself to Parepa-Rosa. He gave her a pass to Detroit, and then she was
to go through Canada, and so to New York. Her journey was managed in the
face of tremendous obstacles. She gave concerts, but found little
response to her efforts. She frequently had to walk from one town to
another. Once she had her feet frozen and many times she suffered from
hunger. At last she reached New York, but, in spite of all her efforts,
failed to reach Parepa-Rosa, and with her last fifteen dollars, she set
out for the West again. While in Toledo she heard that Miss Kellogg was
in town, and she called at her hotel and asked to see her. She sang for
Miss Kellogg, who received her kindly, and who was so pleased with her
that she gave her a letter to Errani, New York, and enough money to
enable her to study for two years.

Thus ended her bitterest struggles. After studying some time she secured
the position of soprano in the choir of the Fifth Avenue Church, with a
salary of $1,500, and on May 20, 1872, she set off for Europe with a
large sum of money subscribed by the wealthy people of the church, whose
admiration she had gained by her voice and her character.

She soon made her debut in Paris, and made a sensation. In Paris she
married Eugene Wetherell, a young druggist of New York.

If Miss Abbott is not enrolled among the great opera singers, it is
because her ambition led her away from the beaten track, for, having
made a reputation, she established an opera company of her own, which
existed in America for several years, and enabled her to make a fortune
estimated at half a million dollars. Her husband died in 1889, and his
loss was a blow from which she never fully recovered. She was herself
taken away in her prime in 1891.

In 1873 a young singer made her debut at Dresden, who was destined to
achieve a high reputation as an interpreter of Wagner, and to rival the
greatest stars of her school. Therese Malten, who was born at
Insterburg, Eastern Prussia, appeared in Dresden as Pamina, and as
Agatha. For nearly ten years she sang only in Dresden, taking many of
the soprano roles in Italian opera. In 1882 she sang at Bayreuth, as
Kundry, at the desire of Wagner, who had a very high opinion of her
ability, which was amply justified by the results.

In London she appeared in May, 1882, when she made a great impression,
and the critics declared that, though her art in singing was not so
perfect as Materna's, her voice was fresh, magnificent, powerful, and
that she had great personal beauty. Besides possessing a voice of
extraordinary compass, with deep and powerful notes in the lower
register, she was considered an admirable actress. In 1883 she was
chosen by Wagner to sing the part of Isolde at Bayreuth, when she was
described, amidst all the praise that was bestowed upon her, as a young
singer who was never known out of Dresden until she sang in London the
previous year.

Madame Katharina Lohse-Klafsky, who was born in the same year as Malten,
and was for several years prima donna at the Hamburg Opera, visited
America in 1895, and died unexpectedly at Hamburg the following year as
the result of an operation. She was a native of Hungary, and began her
career in Italian opera, though she was best known as a Wagnerian
singer. She had a large repertoire, and created the part, in German, in
"La Navarraise." She met with great success in London in 1892 and 1894.
She had a full, rich-toned voice and a handsome stage presence.

A career of exceptional brilliance, but all too brief, was that of
Etelka Gerster, who was born at Koschau, in Hungary, in 1856. Her father
was a merchant, and brought up his family to refined tastes. All his
children were fond of music, but none seemed to think of special musical
study until a visiting friend from Vienna spoke of the promise which he
thought lay in Etelka's voice.

This gentleman asked permission to bring his friend Hellmesberger to
hear her, and some time later the visit took place. Doctor Hellmesberger
endorsed the opinion already given, but said that there was only one
judge of such matters in Vienna,--Madame Marchesi A visit was therefore
made to Vienna, with the result that Mlle. Gerster became a pupil of
Marchesi, and after a year of hard study won first prize at the
Conservatoire.

About this time "Aida" was brought out at Vienna, and the composer Verdi
came to superintend its production. He visited the Conservatoire, and a
little soiree musicale was given in his honor. On this occasion Gerster
sang several pieces, and Verdi was so pleased that he advised her to go
on the stage.

Soon after this Gerster got an engagement to sing at Venice under the
management of Signor Gardini. She spent two seasons singing in Italian
and Spanish towns, but in 1877 she appeared in Berlin at Kroll's
Theatre. This engagement was the turning-point of her career, for by the
magic of her voice she turned the second-class theatre into a resort to
which the nobility flocked every night, and the venerable emperor and
his court always held the front row of seats.

For three weeks the company, composed of singers unknown to fame, sang
to empty houses. Then, whispers of the fact that Kroll's Theatre had a
singer of extraordinary ability resulted in increasing audiences. The
emperor came and was delighted, and an invitation to sing at court was
the result. After this triumphant engagement, Gerster married her
manager, Signor Gardini, while they were in Pesth.

Compared with many prima donnas, Madame Gerster's life has been
uneventful. Her position as a singer was as a representative of the old
art of beautiful singing. She charmed with gracefulness, smoothness, and
exquisite finish of execution, and the most perfect musical taste, which
every phrase, even in the most florid passages, revealed. She could not
awe, like Pasta, but she could fascinate and charm. She was not a great
actress, but she was graceful and pleasing on the stage.

Madame Gerster visited the United States several times, but at the end
of the season of 1881 she declared that she would never sing again under
the management of Colonel Mapleson. He had hurt her feelings by neglect.
He had called on other members of the company, and showed various little
attentions to them, but he never called on her nor inquired about her
health when she was not feeling well, and finally went off to Europe
without saying "Good-by." This hurt the feelings of Signor Gardini, as
well as those of his talented spouse, but she nevertheless returned as a
member of his company in 1883-84, when there was great rivalry between
Gerster and Patti. On approaching Cheyenne, Patti insisted on having her
car detached from the train and making a separate entry, as she could
not bear to share the admiration of the multitude with Gerster. During
this tour there was one occasion on which, Patti and Gerster appearing
together, Patti received so many flowers that the audience were weary
with the delay caused by handing them over the footlights. When this
ceremony was over, one small basket of flowers was handed for Gerster,
but the audience arose and gave her a tremendous ovation. Henceforth
Patti refused to sing with Gerster, and open war was declared, Patti
declaring that Gerster had "the evil eye," and Gerster saying pointed
things about Patti, as, for instance, when the aged governor of
Missouri, in a burst of enthusiasm, kissed Patti, and Gerster, on being
asked her opinion about this frivolity, said that she saw no harm in a
man kissing a woman old enough to be his mother.

In 1885 Gerster came again to America on a concert tour, but her
beautiful voice had gone. She sang twice in New York, and made a most
dismal failure, so she gave up the tour and went home, much to the
regret of Americans who remembered the days when her singing gave the
most exquisite delight.

Signor and Signora Gardini had a beautiful estate in the Campagna of
Italy, to which they retired between seasons, and where they enjoyed
entertaining their guests. Signora Gardini was devoted to the cares of
her household, and proved herself to be an excellent housekeeper and an
accomplished cook.

In this home nothing was wanting to make it a most delightful place of
residence for even such a spoiled child as a prima donna. But alas! this
happy life was destined to end very soon. Colonel Mapleson in his
memoirs declared that Gerster was a most difficult person to get along
with, and now Signor Gardini was forced to the same conclusion, for it
was reported that the beautiful prima donna was in the habit of giving
way to frightful outbursts of temper. To this cause is attributed the
loss of her voice, as well as the loss of her husband. The "Villa
Mezzana" was closed, and portions of the estate let to various small
farmers. Madame Gerster went with her children to Paris, but soon after
moved to Berlin and became a vocal teacher. She was only twenty-eight
years of age when at the height of her fame, and at thirty her career
was over. Referring to Mapleson once more, who was never inclined to
mince matters when he was annoyed by a prima donna, we get the following
anecdote. While travelling between Louisville and Chicago, the
sleeping-car in which Gerster was travelling broke down and had to be
side-tracked. Madame Gerster was requested to change into another car,
as it was impossible to continue in the one which she was occupying, but
she positively refused to move. She had paid to ride in that car, and
in that car would she go and in no other. No arguments could induce her
to change her mind. At last an expedient was discovered,--the station
agent at the nearest place was a remarkably fine-looking man. He was
dressed up and introduced to her as the president of the road. He
flattered her till she began to soften, and then told her that the
company would be under great obligations to her if she would consent to
use another car. He had a Brussels carpet laid from the door of her car
to that which she was to occupy, and the lady, pleased at the deference
shown to her by so high an official, at last consented to make the
change.

Some of the press criticisms of Gerster's performances during her tour
in 1881 were highly amusing. The following were selected from a paper
published in a large Southern city: "Mrs. Gerster's Lucia is the Lucia
of our youth, and our first ecstasies arose as from a nest of flowers
as fresh and adorable as ever," whatever that may mean. What it
ordinarily described as a walk was pictured in the following mysterious
sentence: "Her light tread as of a restless and frightened bird." Some
of her trills were described as "aflame with passionate intoxication,"
while others were "white and wet with the tears of grief." All this
excellence was manifested with "never a scream to mar her singing." Such
admirable descriptions must have gone far towards reconciling those who
were unable to see and hear the great songstress.

There is and has been much fault to find with American musical
criticism. Excellent musicians have been subjected to the vulgar abuse
of self-sufficient ignoramuses. A movement was recently put on foot to
establish a school of musical journalism, and possibly the following
selection, which was written concerning a lady of excellent musical
ability and of world-wide reputation, may be allowed here as an argument
in favor of a proper training for critics. For absolute vulgarity it may
be awarded a first prize. It was written in 1882 in a city which lays
claim to civilization, and the only excuse for its introduction is the
hope that it may serve a good end.

     "The divine ---- was as resolute as usual, which, by the way, she
     ought to be, being well seasoned. The editor of this paper makes no
     great pretensions in the way of musical criticism, but when a
     genuine six hundred dollar grand spiral subsand twist, back-action,
     self-adjusting, chronometer-balanced, full-jewelled, fourth-proof,
     ripsnorting conglomeration comes to town, he proposes to hump
     himself. Her diaphragm has evidently not, like wine, improved with
     old age. Her upper register is up-stairs near the skylight, while
     her lower register is closed for repairs. The aforesaid ----
     performed her triple act of singing, rolling her eyes, and speaking
     to some one at the wings, at the same time. Her smiles at the
     feller behind the scenes were divine. Her singing, when she
     condescended to pay attention to the audience, to my critical ear
     (the other ear being folded up) seemed to be a blending of
     fortissimo, crescendo, damfino or care either. Her costume was the
     harmonious blending of the circus tent and balloon style, and was
     very gorgeous, barring a tendency to spill some of its contents out
     at the top. The Italian part of the business was as fidgety and
     furious as usual, and demonstrated what early associations with
     hand-organ and monkey will accomplish.

     "The venerable and obese freak of nature,----, was as usual, his
     appearance very nearly resembling a stove in a corner grocery, or
     water-tank on a narrow-gauge railroad. He was not fully appreciated
     until he turned to go off the stage. Then he appeared to the best
     advantage, and seemed to take an interest in getting out of sight
     as quickly as possible, an effort in which he had the hearty
     approval of the audience."

Maurice Strakosch, on behalf of Christine Nilsson, brought suit against
a paper published in a large town in New York State for printing an
article under the head of "Nilsson Swindle," in which the bucolic editor
declared that Nilsson was no singer and could not be compared with Jenny
Lind; therefore she had no right to charge Lind prices.

Marcella Sembrich, who made her debut in 1877 as an opera singer, is one
of the most talented musicians of the century. She was born in Galicia,
at Lemberg, in 1858, and was taught music by her father, while very
young. She appeared in a concert at the age of twelve, playing both the
pianoforte and the violin. She continued her studies on these
instruments under Stengel and Bruckmann, professors at Lemberg, and then
went to Vienna to complete her studies under Franz Liszt. Here, however,
she was found to be the possessor of an unusually fine voice, which she
began to cultivate under Lamperti the younger, and she decided to become
an opera singer.

Her engagement in Athens, where her debut took place, was highly
successful, and she next appeared at Dresden in October, 1878, where she
remained until the spring of 1880, acquiring a high reputation. In June
of that year she made her first appearance in London, under the
management of Mr. Ernest Gye, and was so successful that she was engaged
for the two following seasons.

Of the impression made by her in London, one of the critics wrote: "Her
voice has been so carefully tutored that we cannot think of any part in
any opera, where a genuine soprano is essential, that could present
difficulties to its possessor not easily got over _per saltum_."
Sembrich was included with Patti, Gerster, Di Murska, and Albani, as one
of "the great lights of the day," in 1880.

In St. Petersburg Mlle. Sembrich once gave a concert which drew an
immense audience, all the tickets being sold. The receipts, which
amounted to over nine thousand rubles, were handed over to the poor
students' fund. At this concert, the audience had the opportunity to
admire her in the capacities of singer, violinist, and pianist. As a
violinist she could be listened to with pleasure; as a pianist she was
considered worthy of a place in the front rank, particularly as an
excellent interpreter of Chopin, while as a singer she was one of the
"great lights of the day."

Mlle. Sembrich married her former teacher, Stengel, and has for many
years made her home in Dresden.

She is an ardent horse-woman, and is said to have called forth a
somewhat doubtful compliment from the Emperor of Germany, when her horse
became frightened during a military review, and she succeeded in
managing the animal with great skill. "Madame," said he, "if you were
not the greatest singer in the world, you would be empress of the
circus."

In 1897 Mlle. Sembrich made a tour of the United States, singing in
concerts in most of the large cities, and fully maintaining her high
reputation.

In 1879, at Turin, another young American singer made her debut, at the
age of eighteen. Marie Van Zandt came of a New York family of Dutch
extraction. Her mother was a singer of some renown, and had been a
member of the Carl Rosa company. Marie was taught singing by Lamperti,
and after her debut in Turin she went to London, and appeared at Her
Majesty's Theatre, where she was well received on account of the
freshness of her voice and her unaffected style. The following year she
appeared in Paris at the Opera Comique as Mignon, and made such a
success that she was immediately engaged for a term of years.

Although her voice was extremely light, it was of sweet quality, and
marvellously flexible. Her success in Paris was instantaneous, and she
became the pet of society, besides which she was, strange to say, well
liked by her fellow artists, and admired by her impresario. Ambroise
Thomas, the composer, declared her to be the very impersonation of
Mignon, and she sang in that role sixty-one nights to crowded houses. It
is doubtful whether any singer ever won more rapid fame. At the end of
her season she had impresarios from Sweden, Russia, England, and America
offering her engagements. It is said, too, that no less than six
composers wrote operas for her, and that Delibes's "Lakme" was one of
these.

In November, 1884, Rossini's "Barbiere" was revived, and Miss Van Zandt
was cast for the leading part. She was, however, so overcome by
nervousness that she lost her voice, and was, in consequence, treated
most shamefully by the press and public of fickle Paris. She therefore
obtained leave of absence, and played in Copenhagen and other places,
appearing in St. Petersburg on December 17th. In 1885, when she
returned to Paris, the hostile attacks upon her were renewed, and M.
Carvalho agreed to break the contract. Notwithstanding a riot, which was
carried on chiefly by a mob of about a thousand persons, who surrounded
the Opera House, Miss Van Zandt made a great success. The people in the
house, with a few exceptions, gave her a double recall, men waved their
hats, women their handkerchiefs, and there was an immense burst of
applause. The rioters kept at the back of the boxes.

She now went to London and created a great impression in "Lakme," at the
Gaiety Theatre.

An incident of her early career in Paris carried with it a certain
amount of romance. A young Frenchman bribed her cabman to take her to a
certain restaurant after the opera, where he and his friends were
waiting to invite her to supper. Through the vigilance of her mother the
plan was frustrated, but the story of the incident reached America, and
came to the ears of a young man who had been an early playmate of the
prima donna, and whose affection had grown stronger as time passed on.
He went over to Paris, and challenged the young Frenchman to mortal
combat. The Frenchman acknowledged the irreproachable character of Mlle.
Van Zandt, but expressed himself as being quite at the service of the
gentleman for any amount of fighting. Details of the fight are not on
file.

Miss Van Zandt was born in Texas, where her father owned a ranch, and
her childhood was spent in the enjoyment of the free life of the plains.
Her family later removed to New York, and then to London. She met
Adelina Patti, who was so pleased with her voice that she gave her every
encouragement, and is said to have called her her successor. But there
have been so many successors of Patti!

A few years after Miss Van Zandt's debut, an amusing rivalry sprang up
between her and another young American soprano, Emma Nevada. So bitter
was the hostility, that one evening, when Miss Van Zandt was taken ill
suddenly during the performance, her friends went so far as to declare
that she had been drugged by the adherents of Miss Nevada. Such little
quarrels are frequent among prima donnas, and are doubtless largely
engineered by the newspapers, whose appetite for the sensational is
enormous.

On April 27, 1898, at the mayoralty of the Champs Elysees district in
Paris, Marie Van Zandt was married to Petrovitch de Tcherinoff, a
Russian state councillor, and professor at the Imperial Academy of
Moscow, after which it was announced that she would retire from the
stage.




CHAPTER VII.

PRIMA DONNAS OF THE EIGHTIES.


To every opera-goer of the past ten years the name of Nordica has become
almost as familiar as that of Patti was during the last generation.
Nordica, or rather, Giglia Nordica, was the name assumed by Lillian
Norton when she made her debut on the operatic stage. She was born in
Farmington, Me., and at the age of fifteen, giving great promise as a
singer, she entered the New England Conservatory in Boston, Mass., where
she studied voice under John O'Neil. Three years later she graduated
from the Conservatory with honors. She was remarkable for her beauty and
amiability as much as for her voice, which was a soprano of the purest
kind. During her years of study at the Conservatory she gained much
experience by singing in church and in concerts, and for a time she
accompanied Samuel R. Kelley's Tableaux d'Art Company, receiving for her
services as vocalist the modest compensation of five dollars an evening.

[Illustration: _Nordica._]

On leaving the Conservatory, she was invited to sing in concerts in
Philadelphia, Baltimore, Cleveland, St. Louis, and New York, where she
took leading parts in the oratorios of "Elijah," "Creation," "Messiah,"
etc. In 1873 she was engaged for a concert tour in England, Scotland,
Ireland, Belgium, Holland, and France, during which her repertoire
consisted of classical music only. During this tour she sang at the
Crystal Palace, near London, and at the Trocadero in Paris. She then
went to Milan, where she studied opera under Signor Sangiovanni, and
made her operatic debut at Brescia, in "Traviata."

In October, 1880, she was engaged at Genoa for fifteen performances of
"Faust," in which she took the part of Marguerite. She next sang at
Novara, where she took the part of Alice in "Roberto," and was
afterwards engaged for thirty-five performances at Aquila in "Faust,"
"Rigoletto," and "Lucia."

Her next engagement was in St. Petersburg, where she sang in
"L'Africaine," taking the role of Inez, in "The Marriage of Figaro" as
Cherubino, in "Mignon" as Filina, in "Ugonotti" as Queen Marguerite, in
"Don Giovanni" as Zerlina, and in "Il Propheto" as Berta, besides other
operas. Thus she acquired in a comparatively short time, and by dint of
extremely hard work, quite an extensive repertoire.

In 1882 she endured the crucial test of the Grand Opera House in Paris,
where, in spite of the "Claque," which is so frequently organized to
kill off new singers, she made a grand success, and an engagement for
three years ensued. Some years later, however, in spite of the renown
which she had gained, fickle Paris grew cold, and critics were laconic.
At this time Nordica did not need the approval of Paris, for she was
well established among the great singers of the period, and it is
recognized that, while a success in Paris is considered an important
conquest, a failure counts for little. The firm establishment of the
"Claque," which is so well described by Mr. Sutherland Edwards, and the
proverbial caprice of Parisian audiences, are sufficient to take the
edge off of defeat. At the termination of her engagement in Paris, in
1883, Nordica married Mr. Frederick A. Gower, who shortly afterwards was
supposed to have lost his life while attempting to cross the English
Channel in a balloon. This matter remained a mystery for many years,
for, while there was no doubt that he started on the perilous journey,
nothing was ever after seen or heard of him or of the balloon. The
question of his death, therefore, remained in doubt, and when, after a
lapse of more than a dozen years, it was announced that Madame Nordica
was about to enter the bonds of matrimony a second time, she suffered
much annoyance from the rumors which were spread about to the effect
that Mr. Gower was in various parts of the world. These rumors never
proved to have any foundation, and, except for the annoyance, must have
been somewhat flattering as evidence of the interest taken in the prima
donna by the public.

In 1887 Nordica sang in Berlin, and made a complete capture of the
Berlinese, a most unusual achievement for an American prima donna. She
also appeared in London at Drury Lane, and by the sweetness and
freshness of her voice, and by the alternating charm and intensity of
her style as an actress, she won a firm and lasting hold on the British
public. She now enjoyed the most marked social attentions, and sang at a
state concert at Buckingham Palace before an audience composed of
princes, princesses, dukes, Indian royalties, etc. The Princess of Wales
came forward and thanked her, the prince added his word, and her triumph
was complete. The climax was reached, however, when she was commanded by
the queen to sing in Westminster Abbey. She sang "Let the bright
Seraphim," which selection has for years been the standard for state
occasions. Indeed, it may be said that when a prima donna has been
commanded to sing "Let the bright Seraphim," in Westminster Abbey, she
has achieved the highest honor possible in England. Madame Albani has
exceeded this in having had the honor of lunching with the queen, but
this latter was more a tribute to her worth as a woman than as an
artist.

One of Nordica's greatest assumptions has been that of the role of Elsa
in "Lohengrin." She has the feeling, the artistic understanding, which,
combined with beautiful vocal gifts, brings out the most delicate
shading of the part. It is doubtful whether any greater representations
of "Lohengrin" have been given than when Nordica sang Elsa, and Jean de
Reszke the title role.

Her success in such parts led her to devote her attention more
particularly to Wagnerian roles, and in 1894 she sang with great success
at Bayreuth.

Nordica has for several seasons visited the United States as a member of
the Abbey and Grau Opera Company, which contained such singers as Emma
Eames, Melba, Calve, Scalchi, the De Reszkes, Plancon, and Lassalle. In
1897, when Abbey and Grau failed, Madame Nordica was a creditor to the
extent of $5,000. When the affairs of the company were arranged, an
agreement was reached with Madame Nordica, by which she was to receive
$1,000 a night. To her surprise, she afterwards discovered that Melba
was to receive $1,200, Calve $1,400, Jean de Reszke $1,200, with an
additional percentage of the receipts. To add to her humiliation, the
part of Brunhilde was given to Madame Melba, whose health, by the way,
collapsed suddenly after her first performance of that part, and
necessitated a speedy departure for Paris. Nordica left the company, and
in doing so had the moral support of the public, for, while there were
many complaints about the excessive salaries demanded by opera singers,
there seemed to be no reason why Madame Nordica should not insist upon
her share. Statements were also made to the effect that Jean de Reszke
would never again sing with Nordica.

The years 1896 and 1897 were years of much financial depression in the
United States, a fact which does not seem to have been fully
appreciated by opera singers, for the collapse of the season seems to
have given rise to considerable bitterness of feeling.

Madame Nordica took unto herself Madame Scalchi, the contralto, and
Barron Berthald, a young tenor, who in a night achieved fame, and toured
the country giving concerts, but with little success. Whatever truth
there may have been in the reported coolness between Madame Nordica and
Jean de Reszke, either diplomacy or the exigencies of the opera singer's
hard lot brought about an ostensible reconciliation; for in London,
during the opera season of 1898, Jean de Reszke sang Tristan with Madame
Nordica as Isolde, when a critic wrote, "We have so often been told that
this music cannot be sung, and we have so often heard it shouted and
declaimed by Tristans who could not sing, and by Isoldes without a
voice, that it was a double joy, not only to hear it sung, but to hear
it superbly sung, with all the confidence and apparent ease one is
accustomed to in a Schubert song, or a Massenet romance."

Madame Nordica is now in her prime. What new honors she may win we
cannot foresee, but she now stands high in the front rank of the great
singers of the day. In 1896 she married Mr. Zoltan Doehme. The
engagement, which had been once broken off, came to a sudden climax
while Nordica was in Indianapolis. Mr. Doehme suddenly appeared, having
travelled from Germany, and in a few hours they were married without any
display or previous announcement.

Madame Nordica wins many friends by frank, engaging cordiality of
manner, while her impulsive nature and enthusiasm help her over many
difficulties. One may imagine the consternation caused in the Boston
Symphony Orchestra by her startling declaration, at a rehearsal, that
they were like a Kalamazoo band. Perhaps the sore is still open, but
her winning manners will close it the next time that she comes among
them.

One of the most brilliant singers among the number of Americans who
have, during the latter half of this century, won distinction on the
operatic stage, is Emma Nevada. She is the daughter of a physician named
William Wallace Wixom, of Nevada City, Cal.

As a child she was so musical that she sang in public when only three
years old. Her mother died when she was quite young, and she received
her education at a seminary in Oakland, California. She was now consumed
by a desire to go to Europe and make a study of voice, and she became
one of a party of girls under the care of a Doctor Eberl, who was to
escort them and keep them under his protection in Berlin. When the
vessel anchored in the Elbe, the passengers were transferred to a
smaller steamer to be landed. Dr. Eberl went on board the little steamer
with the rest, walked into the cabin and died. This was a terrible
calamity for the party under his care, but Emma Wixom succeeded in
finding her way to Berlin, where she sought advice with regard to her
voice, and was recommended to go to Marchesi at Vienna.

It is said that on reaching Vienna she found her funds exhausted, but
she sought Madame Marchesi and told her her circumstances. Marchesi was
so much captivated by her voice and manners that she offered her a home
and took care of her until her debut.

Through Marchesi's influence an engagement was secured for her in
London, where she made her debut in "Sonnambula" in 1880. On making her
appearance in public, Miss Wixom followed the custom of assuming the
name of her native place, and so became Emma Nevada. Concerning her
debut a critic of the time wrote: "Mapleson has brought a new prima
donna, Mlle. Nevada, who is gifted with a very light voice, which is,
however, extremely flexible, and is used very effectively in the upper
registers. The great merits of her voice lie in her staccato effects,
chromatic runs,--which she gives with great purity,--and notes in
altissimo. The defects are excessive lightness of tone, lack of good
lower notes, and a rather imperfect trill. She won many friends by her
refined manners and culture, and if not a great singer she is certainly
an agreeable one."

Another admirer tells us about a performance of "Lucia." In the roulade
duet between the flute and the voice, after the competition was ended
and her full, firm shake, as effortless as the simplest strain, was
about half over, she ran off the stage, the shake continuing just as
perfect all the way, and as she disappeared left a final note away up
among the clouds. But with all this brilliant execution she delighted as
much by her sustained notes, which were of beautiful, flutelike
quality. She also won the affection and respect of all her associates,
by her kindly ways.

A staccato polka was written for Mlle. Nevada, with a view to exhibiting
her voice, and her rendering of it was considered a marvellous
exhibition of vocal technique.

Although her voice was criticised as being too light for grand opera,
Mlle. Nevada was engaged at once to sing in Italy, after which she sang
in 1883 at the Opera Comique in Paris, and has had an exceptionally
successful career, both in Europe and America, where, in 1885, she was
warmly welcomed. In April, 1898, Emma Nevada sang in Paris after a tour
through Holland, showing no diminution of her artistic powers.

A little anecdote was told concerning a performance of "Lucia" in Paris,
which tends to show the kindly disposition, of the young prima donna.
She was, in the mad scene, accompanied in a most delicious manner by
the flutist in the orchestra. One was often puzzled during the
celebrated duet to determine which were the notes of the flute and which
were those of the singer. Now and then a pathetic vibration would reveal
the human voice and cause it to rise triumphant above the instrument.
She taxed the skill of the musician to the uttermost to follow her
through the intricate mazes of sound. When, through nervousness, she for
a moment forgot the words of her song, the humble musician came to her
rescue and improvised a few sparkling variations to enable her to regain
her breath and recollect the lost phrases. At the end of the duet, two
powdered footmen advanced from the wings with a gigantic basket of
flowers which had been sent to her from Rome by some friends. She
selected the finest rose, and, advancing to the footlights, handed it to
the leader of the orchestra to be passed on to the flute player. The
action was taken with much grace and spontaneity, and brought down a
storm of applause, while the poor flutist, unaccustomed to the
recognition of his talent, was overcome with joy at such a graceful
acknowledgment.

One of her trials took place when the Edgardo (Gayarre), who more than
simulated jealous rage, knocked her about in good earnest. His violence
made her forget everything but her part, and she had no chance to think
of the public while trying to keep her wrists out of his reach.

In 1884 Mlle. Nevada had a disagreement with M. Carvalho about a
costume. He offered to cancel her contract, and she joyfully accepted
the offer, after which they both had ample time to repent of their hasty
action. The following year she married Doctor Raymond Palmer, a surgeon
practising in the west of England, a big, bluff, handsome Englishman.
She was small, slight, and graceful.

The marriage, which took place in Paris, in October, 1885, was a great
social event in the American colony in Paris. Speeches were made by
Consul-General Walker and others. Ambroise Thomas, the composer, was
there, and called her "Mignon, my dear interpreter," on which she rose
from her seat, went to him, put her arms around his neck, and kissed
him. The wedding presents were many and valuable, and the descriptions
thereof filled many columns of the newspapers. Never before had an
American prima donna been the centre of so much excitement.

After a short honeymoon, a concert tour in the United States was
undertaken. Madame Nevada did not retire from the stage, but after
fifteen years she is still as popular as ever, though her voice is too
light to be effective in any of the grand operas of modern times.

Unquestionably the greatest artist of her school on the opera stage at
the present day is Emma Calve, whose proper name is Emma Roquer. She was
born in 1866, at Decazeville in the Aveyron, her father being a civil
engineer, and a member of a good Spanish family. He unfortunately died
when his daughter Emma was sixteen years of age, and left his family in
poor circumstances. Emma, who was the eldest child, was brought up in a
convent, the quiet life of which was very attractive to her, but she was
prevented from taking the veil because her mother needed her help at
home.

A gentleman from Paris, who heard her sing one day in the convent
chapel, urged her mother to send her to Paris for musical training, and
much against her own wishes the young singer began the course of
training which led to her appearance on the operatic stage.

Life has not been all sunshine for Emma Calve. She has acquired her art
in the school of adversity. Her early stage experiences were not highly
successful, though she was reengaged. Her debut was made at Brussels at
the Theatre de Monnaie, as Marguerite in "Faust," in 1881. During this
season she received a salary of a hundred and forty dollars a month,
which was increased the next year to two hundred and forty. In 1884 she
went to Paris, where she created the leading part in "Aben Hamet," by
Dubois, at the Theatre Italien, and was decidedly successful.

Her teachers up to this time had been a tenor named Puget, and Laborde,
but she now began to study under Madame Marchesi, and then followed a
successful tour in Italy, during which she gained much by association
with the Italian people, and cultivated her dramatic instincts. Here she
saw Eleanora Duse, the great actress, whose impersonations made a great
impression on the young singer. Calve's impassioned acting, her
magnetic personality, and beautiful voice, won for her the greatest
success at La Scala. In 1889 she returned to Paris, and continued her
career of hard work and success, but the day of her greatness had not
yet come.

In 1891 she created the part of Suzel in "L'Amico Fritz," at Rome, an
event which added greatly to her renown, and when "Cavalleria Rusticana"
was given in Paris for the first time in 1892, Calve was selected as the
most fitting interpreter of the part of Santuzza. Her success in this
part was something phenomenal, and was gained after much study of the
story, the close intercourse she had made with the Italian people, and
by the aid of some suggestions from Mascagni, the composer.

Her success as Santuzza was repeated in London, and, after ten years of
unremitting labor, Calve found herself acknowledged as a great artist.
Notwithstanding the excellent quality of her voice, and her mastery of
technique, her victories have been gained by her dramatic impulses.

Her next triumph was achieved in the character of Carmen. In order to
study for this part she went to Spain, where she learned the Spanish
dances, associated with the Spanish people, and learned as much as
possible of the character of the Spanish peasant.

In 1894 she appeared at the Opera Comique in Paris, as Carmen. Her
triumph has become a matter of history. It was one of the greatest
events in the annals of the lyric stage. Patti had played Carmen, Minnie
Hauk had played Carmen, Madame Galli-Marie had played Carmen, and all
had achieved success in the part; but Calve _was_ Carmen. Her conception
of the character was a revelation. Her fascinating gestures, her
complete abandon, the grace of her dances, her dazzling beauty, all
combined to make her Carmen one of the most wonderful impersonations
ever given in opera. She has been criticised as uncertain, as giving
different interpretations at different times, but the fact remains that
Calve stands pre-eminent in the world of operatic art. Her swinging,
graceful walk, her fascinating half Oriental dances, her gestures, her
infectious, reckless mirth, all help to make up the dazzling
impersonation with which her name is associated.

Of Calve's voice little has been said, because, in the perfection of her
art, the voice is not obtrusive. It is light and sympathetic, rich in
quality, and she never forces it. She frequently misses what many
singers would seize as a vocal opportunity, for the sake of dramatic
effect, and yet her singing has a marvellous charm. The "Havanaise," as
sung by Calve, is something to remember for a lifetime.

Calve has a superb, lithe form, and her large, dark eyes and delicately
modelled features give her a charming appearance. She is frank, cordial,
young-spirited, easy-going, and is intensely admired, both by her
associates at the theatre, and in the drawing-room. She is a curious
combination of the developed woman and the simple girl. No one can
prevent her from saying and doing as she pleases, but her impulses are
seldom unkind. She believes thoroughly in spiritualism, theosophy, and
astrology. Whenever she sings, she carries with her an amulet from
Hindostan, and nothing can induce her to appear without it.

Her first visit to America was in the season of 1893-94, during which
she appeared as Mignon, in Boston, for the first time in any part of the
world. Her reception during that tour was splendid. She did not again
visit America until the season of 1895-96, but she returned the
following season, when her appearance as Marguerite in "Faust" was one
of the leading events of the season. During her absence she had improved
wonderfully in vocal form and appearance, and the critics gave her
unstinted praise. Her impersonation of Carmen again created a furore,
and, notwithstanding the superb array of talent exhibited during those
seasons, "Calve" was, above all, the subject of interest to opera-goers.

She makes her home in Paris, but her vacations are spent at a
picturesque little place called Chateau Cambrieres, situated in the
shadow of the Pyrenees. Calve is not yet at her prime, and with genius
such as she possesses it is likely that she will eclipse the
achievements of the greatest dramatic singers of the past.

Of the numerous successors of Patti, Madame Melba seems to have more
fully met the requirements than any other. In many respects she has
exceeded them, for her voice is fuller and more powerful than Patti's
ever was, but she has the same easy vocalization and marvellous
spontaneity that constituted the great charm in Patti's singing.

Melba is the daughter of a wealthy citizen of Melbourne in Australia,
and in that city, from which she takes her stage name, Nellie Mitchell
was born in 1865. There was much musical talent in the family, but it
was exercised for their own enjoyment only, for they were of Scotch
Presbyterian descent, and the idea of the stage was objectionable to
them. For this reason, while their daughter was given every advantage in
the study of the pianoforte, violin, and harp, her voice was not
cultivated. Singing was nevertheless her chief delight, and her great
desire was to take lessons.

[Illustration: _Melba as Ophelia._]

In 1883 Miss Mitchell married a Captain Armstrong, but the marriage was
not a happy one, and when her father, shortly afterwards, was appointed
commissioner from Australia to the Colonial exhibition in London, she
went there with him, and soon found herself able to enter upon study for
a musical career.

She went to Paris, where at one of Marchesi's receptions she sang and
was heard by the manager of the Brussels opera house, who offered her an
engagement, and, after only nine months' training, she made her debut.
She had been previously offered a five years' engagement by Maurice
Strakosch, but his death prevented the carrying out of the contract.

It was in 1887 that she made her first appearance in Brussels, and the
following year her Parisian debut was successfully accomplished. She was
rapturously received, and at once found herself classed among the great
singers of the century. Her career in Europe and in America was a
succession of triumphs. Her voice is rich, sympathetic, and powerful. In
flexibility it may be compared with that of Patti, and her trills and
cadenzas are accomplished with the ease and brilliancy that belong to
naturally gifted singers.

Perhaps the most severe ordeal through which she ever had to pass was in
1893, when she made her debut in Milan. The Milanese are very jealous of
their independence of opinion, and while they will accept leniently a
beginner, the artist whose reputation has been gained out of Italy is
likely to fare badly at their hands. When it was announced that Melba
was to sing at Milan, a feeling hostile to her at once made itself
manifest. When Melba arrived, the musicians and critics did their best
to keep out of the way and avoid an introduction. Stories went forth,
when rehearsals began, that her voice was like a steam whistle, and
everything that could contribute towards a failure was done. Madame
Melba's friends endeavored to keep all this from her, and for a time
they succeeded, but now she began to be pestered with anonymous letters
making threats of various kinds. This so unnerved the prima donna that
it was found advisable to acquaint the prefect of the police with the
details of the matter, and the intrigue was stopped. On the eventful
evening the house was packed, and there was an air of hostile
expectancy. The opera was "Lucia." The singer appeared amidst silence
which was interrupted now and then by hissing sounds. Hardly had her
first notes been heard when it was evident that a change of opinion had
taken place in the audience, and the ovation which she received after
the mad scene was tremendous. The press extolled her incomparable
singing, and her victory was complete.

Melba is not a great actress; she holds her audience entranced with her
marvellous vocalization, and her greatest triumphs have always been in
those operas which make the smallest demands upon the dramatic powers
of the singer. Adelina Patti could not sing in Wagnerian opera, and was
too wise to make the attempt. Melba, advised by her friends, once
appeared as Brunhilde and was not a success, and she must rest content
with being considered the greatest _vocalist_ of the day.

Madame Melba has visited America several times, and during the seasons
of 1895-96 and 1896-97 was under the management of Abbey and Grau. After
the collapse of that company she became the star of a small opera
company travelling as far as the Pacific coast. She makes her home in
Paris, where she spends a portion of each year with her son. She is
simple and frank in manner, generous by nature, and not given to malice
or jealousy.

California added a star to the operatic firmament in Sybil Sanderson,
who made her debut in 1888, under an assumed name, at The Hague, in
"Manon." She was successful, and in a few months came out at the Opera
Comique in Paris, creating the role of Esclarmonde, which Massenet had
written for her, and in which she had the advantage of the composer's
instruction.

Probably no opera singer has ever had greater advantages in the
preparation for the stage than those which Miss Sanderson enjoyed. She
is the daughter of a lawyer of high repute, who became judge of the
Supreme Bench, and later chief counsellor of the Union Pacific Railroad.
She was taken by her mother, at an early age, to Paris, where she and
her sisters received the best education possible. She desired to become
a prima donna, and had every assistance that the wealth of her parents
could provide.

Her voice is of the kind for which American prima donnas have become
celebrated, light, pure, and flexible. Its surpassing excellence lies in
the upper register, her G in alt being in itself a phenomenal
production. Miss Sanderson is a finished actress, having received the
most careful training at the hands of Massenet, who wrote also "Thais"
for her. Saint-Saens entrusted to her the creation of the title role of
"Phryne," and, in token of his delight at her performance, presented her
with a valuable necklace.

Miss Sanderson became very popular in Paris and in St. Petersburg, but
met with less favor in London and New York. Once when she sang in
London, Van Dyck was the tenor. At the rehearsal he sang _sotto voce_ in
order to save himself, and he supposed that she was doing likewise. In
the evening, at the performance,--the opera was "Manon," which Miss
Sanderson sang in Europe two hundred and fifty times,--she was
overwhelmed by the power of his voice. Van Dyck, hearing her small,
clear tones, and thinking that she was nervous, came near to offer
encouragement, and urged her to "let out your voice." "This is all the
voice I have," she replied, and he, still thinking she needed
encouragement, sang all the louder. Her great personal charm makes
itself felt across the footlights, and while she was heavily handicapped
in having to sing with such a tremendous tenor, she was yet able to
captivate the audience by her sincerity.

Ella Russell, who made her debut in Provo, Italy, is a native of
Cleveland, Ohio. Her voice is large, rich, and even, she has an imposing
stage presence and much beauty and dignity. She travelled in Europe with
success, and finally made her appearance at Covent Garden in 1885.

Another American debutante of 1885 was Marie Engle, a native of Chicago,
who at present is one of the opera company at Covent Garden. She has a
light voice, high and flexible. Her first appearance was at the Academy
of Music in New York, in a concert given by pupils, assisted by members
of the Mapleson Opera Company. Colonel Mapleson made her an offer which
was accepted, and she went with his company to San Francisco, where she
made her debut, and afterwards to London, where she has appeared for
several seasons.

She has so far followed the conventional domestic life of the prima
donna as to marry and secure a divorce. Her husband was Gustav Amburg, a
theatrical manager, whom she married in 1889. Her life with him was not
happy, and he continually ill-treated her. At last she found that he had
a wife living in Germany, and she secured her divorce in 1896.

In the Abbey and Grau opera company of 1894 a singer who attracted
considerable attention was Madame Sigrid Arnoldson. She was the daughter
of a Swedish tenor and was born in Stockholm. She made her debut in
grand opera in London, in 1887, but had already become well known at
Stockholm, where, in 1885, so great was the desire to hear her that
2,000 people stood in line all night in order to buy tickets. No singer
had been so popular since the days of Jenny Lind and Nilsson. She sang
"Mignon," and at the conclusion of the performance she was presented by
King Oscar with a decoration exactly like those given to Lind and
Nilsson. Madame Arnoldson is petite, piquant and picturesque on the
stage, and has dark hair and eyes. She is an excellent linguist,
speaking four languages.

When she was a small child she would sing like a bird while alone, but
could never be induced to sing before strangers. Her father taught her
until she was old enough to determine whether she would really have a
fine voice. Then she became a pupil of Maurice Strakosch, whose nephew,
Robert Fischoff, she married.

The appearance of a new singer from America is now looked upon as
nothing unusual, for the list of those who have acquired distinction is
already long. Clara Louise Kellogg, Annie Louise Cary, Adelaide
Phillips, Marie Litta, Minnie Hauk, Marie Van Zandt, Alwina Valleria,
Emma Nevada, Marie Engle, Sybil Sanderson, Lillian Nordica,--yes, the
list might easily be increased even without enumerating the large number
of tenors and basses. The year 1890 witnessed the debut of one who is
already acknowledged as a great artist, and who adds to her laurels each
season. One who, to a glorious voice and attractive personality, adds
dramatic power and intelligence of a high order.

Emma Eames was born in China, but at a very early age was brought by her
mother to Boston, where she received her education. Mrs. Eames was a
highly accomplished musician, and was her daughter's earliest music
teacher. As her voice developed, she began to sing in church choirs and
in concerts, where the beauty of her singing attracted a good deal of
attention. After she went to Paris, she experienced considerable
difficulty in obtaining an engagement. The road to the opera is full of
intrigue and machination. Miss Eames made her way to the front by sheer
talent. She was first engaged to sing at the Opera Comique, but, for
some reason best known to itself, the management repented of having
opened its doors to an unknown singer, and gave her no part. She
therefore asked that her contract might be annulled, and her request was
granted.

A pure, fresh voice, flexible and expressive, remarkably good
intonation, and an attractive personality, were the qualities with which
Miss Eames ruled the stage. Her fault at first was a degree of calmness
in the more vehement scenes. This was noticed particularly in "Faust,"
and yet her interpretation of the role of Marguerite is considered
exceptionally fine.

In 1891 she accomplished the difficult feat of singing the part of Elsa
in "Lohengrin," after only one rehearsal, but her greatest assumption is
that of Elizabeth in "Tannhaeuser," in which she appeared in 1895, and
gained a reputation for originality of conception which the greatest
Wagnerian singers had never developed.

During the season of 1898 in London she gained new laurels. In 1891 Miss
Eames caused a sensation by marrying Mr. Julian Wetmore Story, a young
artist of much promise. The circumstances of the marriage were rather
romantic, and gave rise at the time to a good deal of newspaper comment.
Miss Eames, whose mother was somewhat opposed to her marriage, eluded
the vigilance of her natural protector, and was quietly married in the
old church at Bray, which dates back 1,000 years. This marriage has
turned out very happily. Mr. Story has acquired a high reputation as an
artist, and by no means occupies the conventional position of "prima
donna's husband," but has an individuality of his own. Their home in
Paris is the centre of musical and artistic society, and Madame
Eames-Story has become a kind of deity amongst American students in
Paris.

Only once have there been reports circulated attributing to Madame Eames
the feelings of jealousy which seem to permeate the prima donna
sisterhood. In Boston there was supposed to have been a coolness between
Madame Eames and Calve, and the latter lady, under the rack of the
newspaper reporter, made some disagreeable remarks. Whatever cause there
may have been, Madame Eames met Madame Calve afterwards in Paris, and
offered her hand frankly, as if nothing had happened, and it was
accepted in the same generous manner.

Madame Eames has several times been obliged in her own interests to
maintain an independent position in dealing with managers, and when,
after her great American successes, the Abbey, Schoeffel, and Grau
Company would not offer her what she considered just terms, she would
not retreat from the stand which she had taken, and the company decided
to punish her by letting her alone. The result was, that Madame Eames
reaped a golden harvest in Europe, and built up a reputation so great
that her name is now mentioned as one of the four great
sopranos,--Melba, Calve, Nordica, and Eames.

[Illustration: _Emma Eames._]

With this slight sketch of an interesting career we must be content, for
a word must be added about Mlle. Zelie de Lussan, who made herself
popular to Americans during her connection with the Boston Ideal Opera
Company, from 1885-88, when she secured an engagement in London, and is
rapidly building a great reputation. Her great part is Carmen, and in
this and Mignon she has delighted the Parisians. She is piquant and
brilliant, and has the faculty of charming the audience by her grace and
personal magnetism. Mlle. de Lussan was born in New York of French
parents, and received her musical education from her mother, who was
once a well-known singer.




CHAPTER VIII.

TENORS AND BARITONES.


The operatic tenor is frequently as much of a trial to the impresario as
the soprano. Brignoli would feel hurt unless he received what he
considered the proper amount of applause, and then he would have a sore
throat, and be unable to sing. Ravelli had a mortal hatred of Minnie
Hauk, because she once choked his high B flat with a too comprehensive
embrace, and his expression of rage, being understood by the audience as
a tremendous burst of dramatic enthusiasm, was, in consequence, loudly
applauded. Nicolini, in behalf of Patti, once went out and measured the
letters on a poster. It had been agreed that Patti's name was to be in
letters half as big again as those used for any other singer. It was
discovered that the name of Nevada, who was also a member of the
company, was a fraction over the stipulated size, and all the posters
had to be cut in such a way that a strip was taken out of Nevada's name,
and the middle dash of the E and of the A's was amputated.

Some tenors have travelled with numerous retainers, who always occupied
seats at the theatre for the purpose of directing the applause, but
nothing of the kind has ever been heard of with a contralto or basso.

Ernest Nicolini, who made his debut in 1855, was for some time
considered the best French tenor on the stage, but he is better known as
Madame Patti's husband than as a singer. Nicolini died in January, 1898.

Fancelli and Masini were tenors of merit, with beautiful voices; also
Brignoli, who for twenty years lived in America. Fancelli was a very
ignorant man, scarcely able to read or write. According to Mapleson, he
once attempted to write his name in the album of the Liverpool
Philharmonic Society, with deplorable results. He wished to write
"Fancelli, Primo Tenore Assoluto," but after great efforts, which
resulted in overturning the ink-bottle, the signature appeared thus:
"Faneli Primo Tenore Ass--"

Masini's voice was more sensuously beautiful than Fancelli's, and he was
more full of conceit. He travelled with a retinue of ten people,
including cook, barber, doctor, and lawyer. He also distinguished
himself in London by sending word to Sir Michael Costa, the conductor of
the orchestra, to come around to his apartments, and run through the
music of his part, as he did not care to attend the rehearsal. Costa did
not go, and Masini returned to Italy in great wrath.

Joseph Victor Amedee Capoul, who made his debut in 1861, was for many
years considered one of the best tenors on the French stage. He was
born in 1839, at Toulouse, and entered the Paris Conservatoire in 1859,
gaining the first prize in comic opera in 1861. He was good-looking, and
had a pleasant voice, somewhat marred by vibrato, and he was an
excellent actor in both light and serious parts. He visited America
first in 1873, as a member of Strakosch's company, which included
Nilsson, Miss Cary, Campanini, Maurel, Del Puente, and others not so
well known, and to which were afterwards added Pauline Lucca and Ilma di
Murska. He was also chief tenor of a French Opera Bouffe Company, which
visited America in 1879-80. During the past few years M. Capoul has
lived in New York, where he has become a teacher of singing.

Theodore Wachtel was for a long time one of the leading German tenors.
He was the son of a stable keeper in Hamburg, and began life by driving
his father's cabs. He was born in 1823, and obtained his first operatic
engagements in 1854, singing in several German cities. His first
appearance in London was in 1862, when he sang the part of Edgardo in
"Lucia," and made a complete failure. His later appearances brought
better results, and yet his popularity was gained more on account of the
fine quality and great power of his voice than from any artistic use of
it. His high C was his chief attraction, and this note he produced from
the chest with tremendous power.

Wachtel sang in America during several seasons. He died in Berlin in
1893.

The greatest German tenor, however, for many years was Albert Niemann,
who was blessed with a magnificent voice and a fine appearance, suitable
for the impersonation of Wagner's heroes, in which he excelled. He was
born in 1831, at Erxleben, Magdeburg, and went on the stage in 1849. At
first he sang only small parts, or else in the chorus, but, as he
improved with study, he attracted the attention of Herr von Huelsen,
General Intendant of the Royal German Theatres, who took him to Berlin.
He enjoyed a great reputation for a quarter of a century in Germany, and
was selected by Wagner to sing Siegmund at Bayreuth, in 1876. Until he
came to America in 1886, and 1887, when his voice had long since
departed, his only appearances out of Germany were in the unsuccessful
production of "Tannhaeuser" at Paris, in 1861, and he sang in London in
'82. In 1887 he formally retired from the stage.

Heinrich Vogl won distinction as an interpreter of Wagner roles. He was
born in 1845, at Au, near Munich, and was instructed in singing by
Lachner, and in acting by Jenk, the stage manager of the Royal Theatre,
Munich. At this theatre he made his debut in 1865 as Max in "Der
Freischuetz." He was engaged at the same theatre almost permanently
after his debut and was always immensely popular. In 1868 he married
Theresa Thoma, also a singer of renown, and from that time they
generally appeared together.

Vogl played Loge, in the "Rheingold," and Siegmund, in "Walkyrie," when
they were produced in 1869 and 1870, and his greatest triumphs have been
gained in Wagner's operas. When the Trilogy was produced at Bayreuth, in
1876, he played the part of Loge, and was highly praised for his
admirable declamation and fine acting.

Theresa Vogl was the original Sieglinde, at Munich, and was very
successful in Wagner opera. She was born in 1846, at Tutzing, Bavaria,
and studied singing at the Munich conservatory, appearing first in opera
at Carlsruhe in 1865.

As Mario's powers began to wane, people wondered who would succeed him,
and many based their hopes on Antonio Giuglini, a native of Fano,
Italy. Giuglini was born in 1827, but did not appear in England until
1857, when he sang at Her Majesty's Theatre. He possessed a sweet, high
tenor voice and an elegance of style which some critics complained of as
cold, languid, and drawn out. His singing was without variety and his
acting colorless and tame. Notwithstanding all this, he was called by
one eminent critic "the best that has been heard since the arrival of
Tamberlik," seven years previously.

Giuglini's career was, however, of short duration, for he became insane
in 1862, and died at Pesaro three years later.

In 1872 a tenor appeared who at first seemed to be a worthy successor to
Mario,--Italo Campanini, who was born at Parma in 1846. He first
attracted public attention by singing the part of Lohengrin when that
opera was produced at Bologna, in 1871, and beginning with 1872, he was
engaged every season for ten years in London. His first engagement in
America was in 1873, when he was a member of a company organized by
Mapleson, which included Nilsson, Annie Louise Cary, Capoul, and Maurel.
In America he became very popular, although he was considered in Europe
to have disappointed the high expectations which his early career had
justified. He had a pure tenor voice of richest quality, but owing to
some fault in his method of production it decayed rapidly, and his
declining days were a succession of unfortunate and unsuccessful
attempts to regain his lost powers. As an actor he was melodramatic
rather than powerful, and he was looked upon as a hard working and
extremely zealous artist.

Campanini had a varied and highly interesting experience of the triumphs
and vicissitudes of life. He was the son of a blacksmith, and was
brought up to his father's trade, which he first left to go soldiering
with Garibaldi. He returned after the war, and his vocal powers were
soon discovered by a musician who happened to hear him sing, and secured
for him a course of free tuition in the Parma conservatory. At the age
of twenty-one he commenced his career as an opera singer. He met with
some success, and was engaged to travel in Russia for twenty-four
dollars a month. On his return to Italy, Campanini went to Milan and
took lessons for a year with Lamperti, when he appeared at La Scala in
"Faust."

His repertoire was remarkable, consisting of over eighty operas.
Beginning his career with a salary of eighty cents a night, he rose
until he received, under Mapleson's management, $1,000 a night, and in
one season with Henry E. Abbey he was paid $56,000,--yet he died poor as
well as voiceless. He was simple and unaffected in his manners, and,
like many of his fraternity, careless and improvident, but he had many
friends and with the public was very popular on ample grounds.

Mapleson relates that when he first engaged Campanini to appear in
London, he was one day sitting in his office when a rough-looking
individual in a  flannel shirt, with no collar, a beard of three
or four days' growth, and a small pot hat, entered and announced that
Campanini had arrived in London. "Are you sure?" exclaimed the
impresario, wondering how it could interest the individual before him.
The strange-looking being burst out laughing, and declared that he was
quite sure, as he was himself Campanini. It was a terrible crusher for
Mapleson to find that his great star was such a rough-looking customer,
but Campanini more than justified the reports about his singing as soon
as he made his first appearance on the stage.

An American who had the honor of being for three years first tenor at
the Royal Opera House, Berlin, and nine years first tenor at the Vienna
opera house, is Charles R. Adams. He was born in Charlestown, Mass., in
1834, and after some study with Boston teachers went abroad, where he
became a pupil of Barbiere in Vienna. After acquiring a high reputation
in Europe, he came to America as a member of the Strakosch opera company
in 1878, being associated with Miss Kellogg, Miss Cary, Miss Litta, and
others. In the following year he decided to remain in Boston, and has
since devoted his time chiefly to teaching.

The latter half of the nineteenth century has witnessed the growth of
the Wagner opera. In several ways has the doctrine of Wagner made itself
felt in musical art. Operas no longer consist of a series of solos,
duets, and concerted numbers, with an opening and closing chorus, all
strung together in such a manner as to give the greatest opportunities
to the soloist. An opera at the present day must be a drama set to
music. The action of the play must not be interrupted by applause,
encores, and the presentation of flowers. This continuity of action is
noticeable in every opera of modern times, whether German, Italian, or
French, and in itself marks a decided forward movement in the annals of
lyric art.

[Illustration: _Ed. de Reszke as Mephistopheles._]

There have been many complaints that the singing of Wagner opera ruins
the voice, but to contradict this statement we have only to look at the
careers of the greatest Wagnerian singers,--Materna, Lehmann, Brandt,
Niemann, Winkelmann, Vogl, the De Reszkes, Nordica, Brema, and others
who have sung the music of Wagner for years without any unlooked-for
deterioration. The fact is that they learned the art of vocalization,
while many who have come before the public as Wagnerian singers have
been practically ignorant of the first principles of voice production.
To shout and declaim does not by any means constitute the Wagnerian
idea. The music is as singable as the most mellifluous Italian opera of
the old school, although it does not call for the flexibility and
execution which were considered the great charm of singing in the time
of Malibran, Jenny Lind, and Grisi. An eminent London critic writes: "We
were tired to death of German coughing, barking, choking, and gargling,
when suddenly Jean de Reszke sang Tristan beautifully."

Jean de Reszke is a native of Poland, having been born at Warsaw in
1852. His father was a councillor of state and his mother an excellent
amateur musician. Their home was the centre of attraction for many
notable artists and musicians, so that the children were brought up in
an atmosphere of art. Jean was taught singing by his mother, and at the
age of twelve sang the solos in the cathedral at Warsaw. He was educated
for the profession of the law, but his love of music was such that he
decided to prepare himself for the operatic stage, and began to study
with Ciaffei, and later on with Cotogni. He made his debut in 1874 at
Venice as a baritone, and for some years sang baritone parts, until he
found the strain telling upon his health. He phrased artistically and
possessed sensibility, and his voice was of excellent quality; but
feeling that he was not fully prepared, he retired from the stage for a
time and studied with Sbriglia in Paris. In 1879 he appeared again, but
as a tenor, in "Roberto," at Madrid, when he made a great success, and
from that time he was regarded as one of the greatest tenors of the age.
Of recent years his successes have been chiefly in Wagnerian roles. He
is an ideal Lohengrin, and has added to his laurels as Tristan and as
Siegfried.

Probably no tenor since the days of Mario has awakened such widespread
public interest. His estates in Poland, which in 1896 were extensively
improved for the reception of his bride, the Countess Mailly-Nesle, his
love of horses and of sport in general, as well as the jealousies of the
numerous ladies who vied with one another for his smiles, all in their
turn formed themes for newspaper and magazine comment. The personal
appearance, as well as the geniality of the great tenor, helped to make
him an object of interest, for he is a man of great physical beauty and
grace.

Jean de Reszke created a furore in America, and has visited the country
several times under the management of Abbey and Grau. When that company
failed in 1896, De Reszke attempted to form an opera company to finish
the season, and in so doing he incurred a great deal of popular
indignation by his treatment of Madame Nordica, who felt obliged to
leave the company, and by inducing Madame Melba to assume Wagnerian
roles, in which she proved to be a failure. He became the object of
newspaper attack on account of the large price which he demanded for his
services, but much of this indignation is unmerited, for the simple
reason that the remedy lies with the public rather than with the singer.
An opera singer is justified in getting as much money as his services
will bring, and as long as he finds people, whether managers or public,
who are willing to pay that price, he will ask it. When the price is
refused, it lies with him to determine whether he will sing for less
money or withdraw, and it seldom happens that it is necessary for a
thoroughly popular artist to withdraw, except at the end of his career.
Patti received her highest prices when she was past her prime, and the
same may be said of almost every great artist. The reason may be found
in the fact that their greatness does not dawn upon the general public
until years after their position is earned.

In 1896 Jean de Reszke married the Countess Mailly-Nesle, to whom he had
been engaged for several years. She is an amateur musician of
exceptional ability, and a lady of much personal beauty.

One of the more recent stars in the operatic firmament, and which is at
its height, is Ernest Marie Hubert Van Dyck, born in Antwerp, 1861. He
at first intended to become a lawyer, and for a time studied
jurisprudence at Louvain and Brussels. His musical gifts and love of art
could not be repressed or hidden, and whenever he sang his voice created
so great a sensation that, in spite of family opposition, he went to
Paris to study. As a means of helping himself he was for a time
assistant editor of a Parisian paper, _La Patrie_.

In 1883 Massenet heard him sing at a private party at which they were
both guests, and was so much struck by his voice and style of singing
that he asked him then and there to act as substitute for a tenor who
was ill, and could not fill his engagement. The occasion was the
performance, under Massenet's management, of a cantata, "Le Gladiateur,"
by Paul Vidal, at the Institut de France.

Within two hours Van Dyck studied and sang the tenor solos with such an
effect that he immediately became the topic of conversation among
musical Parisians.

He was now engaged by Lamoureux, the champion of Wagner in Paris, for a
term of four years, during which he sang the roles of Tristan, Siegmund,
etc. In 1887 he sang Lohengrin, but its production caused a great deal
of excitement, owing to political causes. Nevertheless, the performance
formed a golden epoch in the history of Wagnerian art.

Van Dyck was now induced by Levy and Goo, of Bayreuth, to take part in
the production of "Parsifal," in 1888. For this he was drilled by Felix
Mottl, and he made so great a success that he was at once engaged for
the following year.

He has proved himself the finest representative of the character of
Parsifal that has yet been heard, even Winkelmann not being excepted.
Since 1888 Van Dyck has been engaged at Vienna.

Mr. Van Dyck married, in 1886, the daughter of Servais, the great
violoncellist and composer. He is a knight of Baden of the order of the
Lion of Zahringen, and an officer of the Academy of France.

Of Wagnerian tenors, Anton Schott and Hermann Winkelmann gained a high
reputation. The former made his debut in 1870, but his career was
interrupted by the outbreak of the Franco-German war, through which he
served, as he had also served through the war of 1866 against Austria.
Although his reputation was high in Germany, he made a comparatively
small impression in England. Winkelmann took the part of Parsifal at
Bayreuth, when, in 1882, sixteen performances of that work were given
under Wagner's supervision. He also came to America with Materna and
Scaria, making a good impression.

Max Alvary also was well known in the United States as a Wagnerian
singer. He made his operatic debut in 1881, and appeared in the
Metropolitan Opera House, New York, in 1885, since which time he has
been heard in America during several seasons. His best parts were
Siegfried, Tristan, and Tannhaeuser, and he was for many years leading
tenor at the Opera in Hamburg. His death, in November, 1898, at the age
of forty-one, was the result of an accident.

[Illustration: _Alvary in Rigoletto._]

Of the Italian school, Francisco Tamagno holds a high position in the
operatic world of to-day as a robust tenor. He excels in dramatic roles,
such as Otello and Arnoldo, and he made a great success in
"Cavalleria Rusticana." In heroic roles he sings and acts with a
simplicity, power, and authority not surpassed by any other tenor of
this generation. He was born at Turin, and began his musical education
at the age of eighteen. His debut was made in Palermo, at the age of
twenty-three, his studies having meanwhile been interrupted by military
duties. In Venice he sang with Josephine de Reszke, the sister of Jean
and Edouard, who had a short but brilliant career. For many years he
remained at La Scala, where he was immensely popular. He is tall,
big-chested, and erect, always imposing, and, unlike most Italians, he
has fair hair and blue eyes. An American critic wrote of him as "hurling
forth his tones without reserve, and with a vocal exuberance not reached
by any living tenor. He quells and moves by overwhelming strength and
splendor."

Tamagno was once the defendant in a lawsuit brought against him by the
manager of the opera in Buenos Ayres. It appears that in 1890 the tenor
was engaged for a season of forty performances, for which he was to
receive $130,000. Of this sum $31,000 was paid in advance before he
would leave Italy. When he arrived at Buenos Ayres a revolution broke
out, and only four performances of opera were given. The manager
endeavored to recover his money. An interesting feature of the trial was
that it brought out the fact that Tamagno always travels with a claque
of eight, and that it is stipulated in all his contracts that he shall
have eight tickets for their use. This, however, has been denied, and it
is stated that Tamagno has not read a criticism of his singing for
years, knows nothing about the critical opinion of him, cares less; also
that the eight tickets are intended for his family. He is said to be the
highest-priced tenor of the age.

Before leaving the tenors a word should be said concerning Edward Lloyd,
who in England seems to have inherited the mantle of Sims Reeves. He
was born in 1845, and was educated as a chorister in the choir of
Westminster Abbey. He has devoted himself entirely to concert and
oratorio singing, and possesses a voice of the purest quality, with a
style noted for its excellence and finish.

Henry Guillaume Ibos, also, a French tenor formerly a cavalry officer,
who made his debut in 1885, is a singer whose voice possesses much
beauty. He was born at Toulouse in 1862, and has appeared with much
success in France, Russia, and England. He also made a tour in 1897-98
in America.

There are tenors coming to the surface continually. Some will sink into
obscurity, while others will ascend the ladder of fame; but we must
leave them to the future and pay a little attention to the baritones, of
whom Van Rooy has recently made his mark as Wotan. He has a tremendous
voice, sings with ease, and gets a pleasing softness into his tones. He
is likely to be well known in the future.

Charles Santley, who is known in England as the greatest baritone of the
Victorian era, was born in Liverpool in 1834. Having a voice of fine
quality, extensive compass, and great power, he left England to study in
Milan in 1855. Returning in 1857, he took lessons of Manuel Garcia. In
the same year he appeared in oratorio, singing the part of Adam in the
"Creation." His first appearance in opera in England was in 1859, as
Hoel in "Dinorah" at Covent Garden.

Although Mr. Santley sang almost all the baritone roles in opera, he was
not noted for histrionic powers, but rather for his vocal abilities, and
his power of seizing on the exact sentiment and significance of his
part.

In 1871 he visited the United States as a member of the Carl Rosa opera
company, during which time he reaped substantial honors. In 1889 he made
a concert tour in Australia.

In 1892 Joseph Bennett, the eminent critic, wrote: "The foremost
baritone of the day is still with us, and though his physical means have
suffered changes which no skill can avoid, he is a greater artist than
ever, and retains plenty of vitality for his work."

Mr. Santley married, in 1859, Miss Gertrude Kemble, the granddaughter of
the celebrated actor, and his daughter, Miss Edith Santley, had a short
but exceedingly brilliant career as a concert singer, previous to her
marriage, in 1884, to the Hon. R. H. Lyttelton.

Jean Baptiste Faure, a French singer, will be remembered as the creator
of the part of Mephistopheles in Gounod's "Faust." He was a good
musician and a fine actor, and he owed more to his genius as a comedian
than to his voice, which was of great compass, though not of a
brilliant quality. In the winter of 1861 he made his first appearance at
the Grand Opera in Paris, though he had made his operatic debut nine
years before at the Opera Comique. For many years he remained at the
Grand Opera, during which time he was a prominent figure in operatic
history. Faure was born in 1830, and was the son of a singer at the
church of Moulins. His father died when he was but seven years old. At
the age of thirteen he entered the solfeggio class at the Conservatoire
in Paris, to which city his family had moved when he was three years
old. At the breaking of his boy's voice he took up piano and double
bass, and was for some time a member of the band at the Odeon theatre.
After his voice was settled he joined the chorus at the Theatre Italien,
and in 1850 again entered the Conservatoire, where he gained, in 1852,
the first prizes for singing and for opera comique. He is a man of
refined tastes and great culture, and an enthusiastic collector of
pictures. In 1859 he married Mlle. Lefebre, an actress at the Opera
Comique. Of Faure's Mephistopheles, in "Faust," a critic of 1876 writes,
"No impersonation of this character at all approaching the general
excellence of his could be named." What Faure respected most was the
intention of the composer. It is impossible for any one to penetrate
more deeply into a part, to adorn it with more delicate gradations of
light and shade, to hit upon more felicitous contrasts and juster
intonations, to identify himself more thoroughly with a character or an
epoch. He proceeded by degrees, led his audience to sublimest heights of
enthusiasm by cleverly calculated stages,--he fascinated them.

Of French baritones, Victor Maurel is the one who has succeeded Faure.
His creation of the part of Iago, in Verdi's "Otello," was considered a
masterpiece of lyric acting, and Iago is at the present day his greatest
role.

Maurel was born in 1848 at Marseilles, and, having a penchant for acting
and singing, began to play in comedy and light opera in his native town.
His ambition soon led him to Paris, where he entered the Conservatoire
and studied singing with Vauthrot, and opera with Duvernoy. He gained
the first prizes in both subjects in 1867.

In 1869 he made his debut in "Les Huguenots," but he was not considered
sufficiently successful to secure a permanent engagement, so he went for
a series of tours in Italy, Spain, and America. His first London
appearance was made in 1873, when he took the part of Renato at the
Royal Italian Opera, and was engaged there, as a result of his success,
every year until 1879, playing the parts of Don Giovanni, Tell,
Almaviva, Hoel, Peter the Great, Valentine, Hamlet, and the Cacique. He
also played Wolfram and the Flying Dutchman, and in 1878 appeared as
Domingo in Masse's "Paul and Virginia."

In 1879 he once more appeared in Paris, taking the part of Hamlet. His
name had become established since his previous appearance in that city,
and he was now a most decided success.

About this time M. Maurel undertook the management of Italian opera at
the Theatre des Nations. His enterprise was hailed with joy by the
Parisians, who were desirous of having Italian opera.

Maurel surrounded himself with a company of the finest artists,
including Mesdames Marimon, Adler-Devries, Nevada, and Tremelli, and
Gayarre, the brothers De Reszke, and Maurel himself.

Notwithstanding the attractions offered, the outlay exceeded the income,
and M. Maurel relieved himself of a large amount of money in a
remarkably short time. His financial disasters in no way interfered with
his artistic successes, and his production of Massenet's "Herodiade," on
February 1, 1884, was a great triumph.

Victor Maurel combines a good voice with a most attractive personality
and a great love of his art. He is undoubtedly to be considered one of
the greatest baritones of the present day. As an actor M. Maurel is
magnificent, as a singer he has never had a marvellous organ, but he has
used it with exquisite art. If he ceased to sing he would still be one
of the greatest of Shakespearean actors. As Iago he is insidiously
great, as Rigoletto overwhelming and thrilling.

He first visited the United States in 1874, and he was at once accepted
as a great artist.

Amongst operatic baritones of the past twenty years Senor Guiseppe Del
Puente, a Spaniard, descended from an old and noble family, must be
mentioned. He was born in 1845, and studied at the conservatory at
Naples. Being a true artist in his instincts, and having a fine voice,
he speedily excelled. He became connected with the best operatic
enterprises, and was always popular on account of his handsome stage
presence, dramatic capability, and fine, rotund, musical baritone voice.
He was equally valuable in the comedy parts of light opera, or the
heavier ones of serious opera.

He was well known in America in the eighties, when he belonged to the
Mapleson company, and sang with Gerster, Valleria, Scalchi, Ravelli, and
Galassi.

The greatest English baritone of the present day is Ffrancon Davies,
whose voice was declared by Sims Reeves to be the purest baritone he had
ever heard. Besides having this beautifully pure tone, he has perfect
control of the breath, and remarkable breadth and intelligence.

His first appearance took place at Free-trade Hall, Manchester, at Mr.
de Jong's concerts in January, 1890.

Mr. Davies was born at Bethesda, Carnarvonshire, North Wales, and, after
receiving his early education at Friar's Grammar School, at Bangor, he
obtained an exhibition at Jesus College, Oxford. He gained his B.A. and
M.A. degrees, but was not devoted to studies only, for he stood well in
the athletic world of his University, playing football in his college
team, and rowing in the Varsity trial eights.

After leaving Oxford he began to study music seriously, and entered the
Guildhall School, taking lessons later with Shakespeare. He has a large
repertoire of baritone operatic parts, in which he has sung with great
success, and he is one of the best oratorio and concert baritones of the
day. He visited America in 1896, and confirmed the good accounts which
had preceded him.

In the list of famous baritones of the present day, America is admirably
represented by David Bispham, who has gained his greatest reputation in
the part of Falstaff in Verdi's opera of that name.

Mr. Bispham was born in Philadelphia, in 1857, his father being a
Quaker. Like many of the singers of to-day, he was intended for a
commercial career, but, being more interested in music, he eventually
allowed his love for art to overcome his desire for business, or, as he
has himself said, he went the way of least resistance. His father's
musical proclivities manifested themselves on the flute, which
instrument he played beautifully, and young Bispham solaced the leisure
hours of his youth with the guitar and zither, but never learned much of
any other instrument. On every possible occasion he sang. He was a
member of several choral societies and church choirs, and had the
advantage of many musical friends. He took parts also in amateur
dramatic performances, and thus made some progress in his art.

In 1885 he gave up business and went to London, where he has since
resided. He studied with Vannucini, Shakespeare, and Lamperti, and in
1891 made his debut in London in "La Basoche," scoring an instantaneous
success. He also made a provincial tour with Sims Reeves.

Mr. Bispham has a repertoire of nearly fifty roles, and can sing entire
parts in German, Italian, French, and English. There are few artists who
work as conscientiously for the general good of art, and there are few
who have made so general a success in such a wide variety of roles,
among the best of which are Wotan, Wolfram, and Beckmesser. He is also
without a peer on the concert platform as an interpreter of Wagner. He
was seen in opera in America in 1896, and his artistic efforts made a
deep impression, for he is one of the few artists who combine with
unusual vocal accomplishments great dramatic powers.




CHAPTER IX.

CONTRALTOS AND BASSOS.


The contralto in an opera company has a somewhat thankless task. Her
fate is to be either a boy, or else a nurse, duenna, or some character
which implies age. She frequently is obliged to stand mute while the
prima donna warbles and trills and receives the applause of the house,
and yet the musical demands upon the contralto are equal to those made
upon the soprano.

A contralto who was deservedly popular for many years during the middle
of this century was Adelaide Phillips. She was born in Stratford-on-Avon
in 1833, and in 1840 went with her family to Canada, afterwards settling
in Boston, where, in 1843, she appeared as an infant prodigy at the
Boston Museum. In 1850, her voice having attracted attention, she was
introduced to Jenny Lind, who advised her to study music. A subscription
soon raised the necessary funds, and she was sent to Manuel Garcia in
London, after which another fund was raised to enable her to go to
Italy, where she made her debut in 1854 at Milan. She sang with success
in many cities of both hemispheres, and her repertoire consisted of all
the contralto parts in the operas that held their places on the Italian
stage during the twenty-five years that she was known as an opera
singer. In 1879, when the Boston Ideal Opera Company was formed,
Adelaide Phillips was the chief contralto. She made her last appearance,
in Cincinnati, in December, 1881.

In 1882 the state of her health was such that she was obliged to go to
Carlsbad, and she died there on October 3d of the same year.

In private life Miss Phillips was highly esteemed, for she was not only
an artist of sterling abilities, but a woman of grand character and a
most devoted friend. She was buried at Marshfield, Mass., where the
family had lived for some years on an estate which her success had
enabled her to buy. Her life was one of hard and unceasing labor, but
she had the satisfaction of being able to care for the necessities of
her family, who were thrown upon her in early life.

A mezzo-soprano who took the public by storm in the early sixties was
Zelia Trebelli, or, as she was more widely known, after her marriage,
Madame Trebelli-Bettini. No member of Merelli's Italian troupe was
gifted with so brilliant a voice and so much executive power. Her
appearances in the opera houses in Germany were a series of triumphs,
public and critics alike being carried away by her voice, with its
brilliancy and flexibility, and her control over it.

Her early triumph was the result of long preparation, for her musical
education began when she was six years old, and her vocal training ten
years later. It was not until after five years of close application to
study that she made her debut in Madrid, playing Rosina in "Il
Barbiere," with Mario as Count Almaviva.

For many years Trebelli-Bettini remained one of the best of the galaxy
of opera singers which the operatic stage has displayed during the last
half of the century. In 1884 she made a tour in the United States with
Mr. Abbey's troupe. She was born in Paris in 1838, and died in 1892. Her
proper name was Zelia Gilbert, which expanded and Frenchified into
Gillebert and reversed gives Trebelli(g), the Italian name which has for
some years appeared to be necessary for all those who wish to succeed in
opera.

When Gounod's "Faust" received its first performance in England, in
1863, the cast included Tietiens, as Marguerite; Trebelli, as Siebel;
Giuglini, as Faust; Gassier, as Mephistopheles; and Charles Santley, as
Valentine.

Since the days of Alboni there has been no contralto singer to whom the
adjective "great" could be so fitly applied as to Sofia Scalchi. She was
born in Turin, and her parents were both singers. She made her debut in
1866 at Mantua, in the part of Ulrica (Un Ballo in Maschera), when she
was only sixteen years of age. Her first appearance in London took place
two years later, and from that time she remained a favorite in England,
where she sang in the memorable season of "Cenerentola," and every
season afterwards for more than twenty-five years. Madame Scalchi is
well known in America, where she first appeared under Mapleson's
management in 1882. She had been singing in Rio Janeiro, and reached New
York after a stormy voyage of twenty two days, which left her in such
an exhausted condition that she was incapacitated for a month, and her
illness played havoc with Mapleson's managements.

[Illustration: _Sofia Scalchi._]

Scalchi was the possessor of a voice of delicious quality and unusual
range, every note in its compass of two and a half octaves being of a
wonderfully soft yet penetrating tone, and of great power. Her
popularity was such that Patti and other prima donnas feared her as a
rival, and regarded with jealousy the applause which attended her
performances. Scalchi was imbued with the prima donna temperament, and
had the regulation parrots and other pets during her travels. Concerning
this portion of her equipage, Mapleson tells an anecdote to the effect
that Scalchi's parrot died the night before the company reached Salt
Lake City, in 1884, a bereavement which caused that lady to go into
hysterics and take to a bed of sickness. Notwithstanding every art of
persuasion and such threats as could be used, Scalchi refused to appear,
and her part had to be taken by a substitute.

In 1876 Signora Scalchi married Count Luigi Alberto Lolli, and her home
is at the Villa Sofia, Turin, Italy.

Marianne Brandt is one of those singers who have made their reputation
as exponents of Wagner opera. She is the daughter of a gentleman of
Vienna, named Bischoff, and it is related that she assumed the name of
Brandt upon beginning her stage career on account of her parents, who
strongly objected to her going upon the stage, and threw in her way
every possible obstacle. Marianne, however, was determined to persevere,
and she went through a period of patient, hard work, in order to gain
her education. It is said that at one time she supported herself, and
paid for her lessons by sewing.

Her first teacher was Frau Marschner, at the Conservatorium in Vienna,
but later on she took lessons of Madame Pauline Viardot-Garcia.

In 1867 she received an engagement at Gratz, where she made her debut as
Rachel, in "La Juive." Her parents had expected failure, hence their
unwillingness to allow the use of the family name.

In 1868 she sang at Hamburg, when she played Fides with such success
that she was immediately offered a permanent engagement, which was
accepted, and lasted for many years. During her leaves of absence she
appeared in London as Fidelio, but did not make a remarkable success,
though ten years later, when she sang in "Tristan and Isolde," her
artistic efforts were heartily appreciated.

Fraulein Brandt sang the part of Kundry at the second representation of
"Parsifal" at Bayreuth, and it is said that she generously gave her
services on that occasion. She has visited the United States several
times, taking part in some of the earlier representations of Wagner
opera in New York and other cities.

The next contralto singer to appear in opera was Annie Louise Cary, a
native of the State of Maine, where she was born in 1846, at Wayne. Her
family were all musical, and she was the youngest of six musical
children. By the time she was sixteen her voice had developed wonderful
qualities, and she was able to sing from C in the bass clef to F in alt,
a range of three octaves and a half. At the age of eighteen she went to
Boston, and secured a position in a church choir, while she studied
music. Her career in Boston was much the same as that of many young
aspirants for artistic honors,--"church choir and chores," it has been
facetiously called. By this it may be understood that she earned her
board by assisting in the household duties, while her church choir
position enabled her to pay for her vocal lessons. Her splendid voice
and musical intelligence soon enabled her to obtain concert engagements,
and before she went abroad she sang in many festivals and at the Handel
and Haydn Society concerts, on one of which occasions she was associated
with Parepa-Rosa.

Being possessed of much ambition, and with the energy which
characterizes the natives of the State of Maine, Miss Cary organized and
gave a concert in Music Hall, which brought her enough funds for a
year's study abroad. Her Puritan training forbade the idea of opera, and
it was her intention to study for concert and oratorio. At the end of
her year she was discouraged, and declared that she sang no better than
when she arrived. To this her teacher, Giovanni Conti, made no dissent,
for his one idea of singing was _opera_. Miss Cary flung down her music,
and left the room in disgust. And now came a curious mental revolution:
having refused to consider the possibility of singing in opera, and
having on that account left her teacher, she shortly afterwards met an
impresario named Lorini, for whom she sang. He offered her an engagement
to sing in Italian opera, and she accepted it. For two years she was in
Lorini's company, taking all kinds of parts. In 1869 she went to Paris
for further study, and while there met Maurice Strakosch, who was at
that time forming the Nilsson concert company, for a tour in America.
Miss Cary accepted the engagement which he offered her. The company
consisted of Miss Nilsson, soprano; Miss Cary, contralto; Brignoli,
tenor; Verger, baritone, and Vieuxtemps, violinist. This tour lasted two
years, and in 1873 Miss Cary again appeared in opera, creating the part
of Amneris, with Italo Campanini as Rhadames, when "Aida" was produced
at the Academy of Music in New York. The following year Miss Cary sang
Ortrud in "Lohengrin."

In 1879 and 1880 Miss Cary was a member of the Kellogg Concert Company.
During the last years of her career, 1879 to 1881, she sang again in
opera, adding to her repertoire the contralto part in "Favorita."
Campanini and Gerster were the tenor and soprano. In 1881 she made her
last appearance in opera in Philadelphia, and in 1882 she sang for the
last time at the Cincinnati festival, having taken part in each one
given from 1873. So well was she known at these festivals that when, in
1884, she attended as a member of the audience, she was at once
recognized and received an ovation on taking her seat. On retiring from
the stage in 1882, Miss Cary married Dr. C. H. Raymond, putting an end
to her public career when she was at the height of her popularity. All
young singers may take her early career as a model, for it should give
hope and courage to the many who are to-day making a similar struggle.

One of the members of Mapleson's company which visited the United States
in 1884, and which included Patti and Gerster, was Anna de Belocca, a
contralto of much merit. Her first appearance in this country, however,
was made under the auspices of Maurice Strakosch, in 1876, when she was
a new star on the operatic horizon. Mlle. de Belocca was unusually
attractive in person, with brown hair, large black eyes, dead-white
complexion, and symmetrical form. She was the daughter of M. de Bellokh,
a scholar of St. Petersburg and acting Imperial Councillor of State.
Mlle. de Belocca spoke five languages, and because of her aristocratic
birth was sought after by the highest circles of society.

Mapleson seems to have been well aware of her ideas on social matters,
for on one occasion he made use of his knowledge to help himself out of
a dilemma. His company was in Dublin, and the one suite of rooms at the
hotel was claimed by both Mlle. Salla, the prima donna, and Mlle.
Belocca, the contralto. Neither would give way until a happy thought
struck Mapleson, and, after taking the landlord aside for a short
conference, he asked whether there were actually no other rooms in the
house equal to the disputed ones. "There is a suite above this," was the
reply, "but they are reserved specially for Lady Spencer (wife of the
Lord Lieutenant of Ireland at that time), and it would be impossible for
me to let any one else use them." "Well, can't we look at them?"
suggested Mapleson. The landlord assented, and showed Mapleson up, Mlle.
Belocca following. As soon as she entered the rooms she declared that
they were delightful, and she should insist on remaining there. Of
course the landlord and Mapleson gave a reluctant but delighted consent,
and Lady Spencer made no requisition.

The principal contralto at the festival at Cincinnati in 1896 was Marie
Brema, who is to-day considered one of the greatest interpreters of
Wagner. Miss Brema was born in Scotland, and made her first appearance
in concert at St. James's Hall, London. She was introduced to Frau
Wagner, who was so well pleased with her that she offered her an
engagement to sing the part of Ortrud in "Lohengrin" and gave her
personal instruction.

In 1888 a London theatrical manager saw her play in some amateur
theatricals, and was so struck by her talent that he wanted to star her
as an actress. She declined his proposition, feeling that the operatic
stage was better suited to her capabilities. When she appeared at the
Bayreuth festival, in 1894, as Kundry and Ortrud, she made an immense
triumph. She sang with no apparent effort, naturally and gracefully, as
all true singers do. Her voice was full, round, and well placed, and her
coloring perfect.

Since that time she has fully maintained her reputation, and has been
heard in America with the Damrosch company, in 1894-5-9, and with Abbey
and Grau the following year. During the opera season in London in 1898
her work elicited the highest praise of the critics. Miss Brema is still
young, and is likely to hold a high rank among singers for many years to
come.

The singer in an opera company who shares with the contralto the hard
work, but seldom reaps much of the glory, is the bass, while the tenor
is always an object of adoration, or should be, if he is a good singer,
and the baritone has many good parts. The basso not only has thankless
parts allotted to him, but, from precedent, one generally expects him to
be wobbly and to sing frequently out of tune. Some bassos have broken
through the law of precedent, and then they have been delightful. An
operatic king or duke, who is usually a bass, is very seldom heard to
sing in tune, nor is the heavy villain of the opera, who is always a
bass, able to keep within half a note of the path laid down for him by
the composer. Two bassos who made their appearance at about the same
time were Signor Foli (1862) and Signor Agnesi (1864), and for many
years they were associated with Italian opera and oratorio throughout
Europe. Signor Foli was an Irishman whose real name was Allan James
Foley. He was born at Cahir, Tipperary, and went to America when very
young. His voice was a rich, powerful bass of more than two octaves,
from E below the line to F, and he had a repertoire of over sixty
operas.

Of late years several singers of English and American origin have
achieved distinction without the necessity of Italianizing their
name,--Bispham, for instance, being a striking example. There are
various reasons assigned for the necessity of a change. One is that the
name must be possible of pronunciation by the Italians, in whose
country the opera singer germinates, and the other is that Americans and
English have not yet learned to appreciate a singer by his merits, but
rather by his name. One of the most ridiculous instances of Italianizing
was in the case of Mr. John Clarke, of Brooklyn, who became Signor
Giovanni Chiari di Broccolini. On the other hand, Santley never found it
necessary to become Italian, nor did Sims Reeves. Myron Whitney is a
name needing no Italianization. Emma Eames has found her name no bar to
renown, and a score of singers who are now climbing the ladder of fame
are not ashamed of their Anglo-Saxon origin. Louis Ferdinand Leopold
Agnesi (Agniez) was a native of Namur, Belgium, and in his early days
essayed to be a composer. He brought out an opera, "Harold le Normand,"
which met with indifferent success, and then he became a singer,
receiving instruction from Duprez. His career was not long, for he died
in 1875, but he was a most popular singer.

Emil Fischer, who for many years has been associated with Wagner opera,
was the son of musicians, his father having been a well-known basso and
his mother also a singer of renown. He first appeared at Gratz at the
age of seventeen. In 1862 he took the management of the theatre at
Dantzig and held it for eight years. In 1882 he became a member of the
Royal Opera at Dresden, and remained there until, in 1885, he went to
New York and joined the German opera. Since that time he has become well
known in America, having appeared in most of the representations of
Wagner's operas.

Emil Scaria was for many years known as a versatile singer and actor,
more particularly in German opera. He made his debut in 1862 at Dessau,
after having studied in the conservatoire at Vienna and with Garcia in
London. From 1865 to 1872 he was at Dresden, and then at Vienna for
several years. Later on he visited America, and was one of the
celebrated Wagner trio, consisting of Materna, Winkelmann, and Scaria,
who in 1884 sang in the Wagner festivals. Scaria was born in 1838 at
Gratz. He created the part of Gurnemanz in "Parsifal," at Bayreuth. In
1885 he became a victim to insanity, and died the following year.

In 1876 Edouard de Reszke made his debut at Paris in "Aida," and entered
on a career of renown. He is the younger brother of Jean de Reszke, the
tenor, and it was at the instigation of Jean that he abandoned his
proposed occupation and took to the stage. Edouard had undergone a
course of study at the Agricultural College at Prikao, with a view to
developing the resources of the great estates in Poland belonging to the
De Reszke family. He accordingly proceeded to Milan, and studied with
Stella and Alba, and later on with Coletti. At the end of four years he
went to Paris for further study, and to make his debut.

His voice is a full, rich, resonant bass, capable of sending forth notes
of immense volume, or those of the most tender quality. His appearance
is that of a great, tall, broad-shouldered giant, with fair skin and
blue eyes, and his stage presence is imposing.

Four years after his debut in Paris he created the part of Il Re, in
Catalani's "Elda," and Massenet entrusted to him the creation of "Le Roi
de Lahore" when it was produced at La Scala in Milan. He has also
created the parts of Carlo V., in Marchetti's "Don Giovanni d'Austria,"
and Don Diegue, in "Le Cid." He was engaged in London during the seasons
from 1880-84, and became immensely popular. He has many friends in
England, for he has a weakness for everything connected with sport, in
the best sense.

Notwithstanding the many parts in which he has made the greatest
success, his assumption of the role of Mephistopheles, in "Faust," more
than any other, established his reputation as a great lyric artist, and
he is generally conceded to be one of the greatest bassos of the
century.

Of late years a French basso has arisen to share the popularity of
Edouard de Reszke,--Pol Plancon, who for more than a decade has been one
of the permanent stars of the Paris Opera House. M. Plancon was intended
for a mercantile career, but having been an enthusiastic singer from the
age of four, he rebelled against the decision of his parents. He was
nevertheless sent to Paris, and entered a large and fashionable store to
learn the business. One day Theodore Ritter, the pianist, heard him
sing, for he sang upon every possible occasion, and was so pleased with
his voice that he advised him to turn his attention to music. Through
the influence of Ritter he was admitted to the Ecole Duprez, and
thereby incurred the severe displeasure of his family.

M. Plancon made his first appearance at Lyons as St. Bris, in "Les
Huguenots," and remained there for two seasons. In 1883 he returned to
Paris, and made his Parisian debut at the Grand Opera House as Mephisto,
in "Faust," a part in which he excels. Since that time he has sung all
the chief bass roles at the Grand Opera House, and has created the parts
of Francois I., in Saint-Saens's "Ascanio," Don Gomez, in Massenet's "Le
Cid," and Pittacus, in Gounod's "Sapho," when that work was revived in
1893.

M. Plancon was born in the Ardennes, but since his position as a singer
was assured he has resided in Paris, where also his parents, whose
objections were disarmed by his success, have joined him.

[Illustration: _Plancon as Ramfis in Aida._]

Before closing this chapter of bassos a few words should be said
concerning three eminent singers whose reputation was made in
oratorio and concert singing,--Stockhausen, Henschel, and Myron W.
Whitney.

Julius Stockhausen was one of the most remarkable singers of the
century. He was born at Paris in 1826. His early career was of a varied
nature, for he took part in concerts as singer, violinist, accompanist,
and even drummer. He did not finally decide on music as a profession
until 1848, when he took the part of Elijah in a performance of that
oratorio at Basle, and his success decided his future career.

Stockhausen's singing in his best days must have been wonderful. Even to
those who heard him only after he had passed his prime, it was something
never to be forgotten. His delivery of opera and oratorio music was
superb in taste, feeling, and execution, but it was the Lieder of
Schubert and Schumann that most peculiarly suited him, and these he
delivered in a truly remarkable way. The rich beauty of the voice, the
nobility of style, the perfect phrasing, the intimate sympathy, and the
intelligible way in which the words were given, all combined to make his
singing wonderful. His highest achievement is said to have been his
delivery of the part of Doctor Marianus, in the third part of Schumann's
"Faust."

For many years Stockhausen has been one of the chief vocal teachers of
Germany, and has recently celebrated his golden wedding to the musical
profession, which he formally entered in 1848.

Although not an opera singer, but rather a broad musician, the name of
Georg Henschel will be remembered from the fact that for a few years he
was considered one of the most excellent oratorio and concert singers
before the public. He was born at Breslau in 1850, and at the age of
eleven commenced his studies under Doctor Schaeffer. A year later he
made his debut as a pianist at Berlin, where he played Weber's
Concerto. He had already composed a good deal of music and shown much
talent in that direction. In 1867 he entered the conservatory at
Leipzig, and studied under Moscheles, Richter, Reinecke, and Goetze.
After spending some time in Weimar, he settled in Berlin. One of his
most marked successes was in 1874, at the Cologne festival. In 1877 he
went to London, where he soon acquired a great reputation as a bass
singer, and in 1879 he produced the Triumphal Hymn of Brahms.

In 1880 he visited America on a concert tour, and while in Boston became
the conductor of the Boston Symphony Orchestra, which was organized and
established during the three years of his conductorship. In 1881 he
married Miss Lillian Bailey, a Boston lady, who was a concert singer of
marked ability. In 1884 he returned to London, where he has since
organized the London Symphony concerts, and won an enviable position in
the musical world.

Myron W. Whitney, who was born in 1836 at Ashbury, Mass., decided at an
early age on following a musical career. For ten years he sang in
concerts, and then went to Italy, where he studied under Vannucini, and
later in London under Randegger. He now made a tour of Great Britain,
and at the Birmingham festival sang the role of Elijah in such a manner
as to make an immediate reputation for himself. He has a superb bass
voice, which under long and careful training became flexible and even,
and which extended for nearly three octaves. After achieving a
reputation in England he returned to America, and from 1876 he has sung
only in his native land, where his reputation is unexcelled.

For many years Mr. Whitney sang in light opera, but he also gave an
interpretation of the King in "Lohengrin," under the baton of Theodore
Thomas, when the American Opera Company was floated, which is said to
have been finer than any heard in this country. Of late years Mr.
Whitney has retired from the stage and settled in Boston, where he
teaches singing.

To give an account of all the singers who have appeared in grand opera
would require several volumes. Of American singers alone there are many
more who have achieved fame than can be placed in this little book.
Alwina Valleria, of Baltimore, was well known, and is now married and
settled in England. Emma Juch, Helene Hastreiter, Marie Litta, Emma
Abbott, Louise Dotti are all of American origin and became well known.
Margaret Reed, Suzanne Adams, Susan Strong are singers whose stars are
in the ascendent.

As time passes on, the number of singers whose names are handed down as
"famous" is very small in proportion to the number of singers who come
before the public, and it is possible that even some of those mentioned
in this book may become dim in the distance of years.




CHRONOLOGICAL TABLE OF FAMOUS SINGERS.

The dates in italic are not authenticated.

    -------------------------------------------+------+------+-------+-----
                          NAME                 | Birth| Debut|Retired|Death
    -------------------------------------------+------+------+-------+-----
    Ferri, Baldassare                          | 1610 | 1621 |       | 1680
    Abell, John                                | 1660 | 1682 |       |_1716_
    Nicolini, Nicolo Grimaldi                  | 1673 | 1694 | 1726  |  ?
    Leveridge, Richard                         | 1670 | 1695 | 1730  | 1758
    Tofts, Mrs. Katharine                      |  ?   | 1703 | 1709  |_1740_
    Epine, Francesca Margherita                |  ?   | 1704 | 1718  |  ?
    Valentini, Valentino Urbani                |  ?   | 1707 | 1714  |  ?
    Boschi, Giuseppe                           |  ?   | 1711 | 1728  |  ?
    Bernacchi, Antonio                         | 1690 |_1712_| 1730  | 1756
    Galeratti, Catherina                       |  ?   | 1714 | 1721  |  ?
    Robinson, Anastasia                        |  ?   | 1715 | 1722  | 1750
    Bordoni, Faustina (Hasse)                  | 1700 | 1716 | 1756  | 1783
    Cuzzoni, Francesca (Sandoni)               | 1700 | 1719 | 1750  | 1770
    Senesino, Francesco Bernardi               | 1680 | 1719 | 1735  | 1750
    Tesi, Tramentini Vittoria                  |_1690_| 1719 |_1749_ | 1775
    Durastanti, Margherita                     | 1695 | 1720 | 1734  |  ?
    Carestini, Giovanni                        | 1705 | 1721 | 1758  |_1758_
    Farinelli (Carlo Broschi)                  | 1705 | 1722 |_1762_ | 1782
    Borosini, Francesco                        | 1695 |_1723_|  ?    |  ?
    Caffarelli, Gaetano Majorano               | 1703 | 1724 | 1750  | 1783
    Fenton, Lavinia (Duchess of Bolton)        |  ?   | 1726 | 1731  | 1760
    Fabri, Annibale                            | 1697 | 1729 |   ?   | 1760
    Gizziello, Gioacchino Conti                | 1714 | 1729 | 1753  | 1761
    Monticelli, Angelo Maria                   | 1710 | 1730 |   ?   | 1764
    Beard, John                                | 1717 | 1736 | 1767  | 1791
    Raff, Anton                                | 1714 | 1738 |_1779_ | 1797
    Amorevoli, Angelo                          | 1716 | 1741 |  ?    | 1798
    Guarducci, Tommasso Toscano                | 1720 | 1745 | 1771  |  ?
    Guadagni, Gaetano                          | 1725 | 1747 | 1784  | 1797
    Gabrielli, Caterina                        | 1730 | 1747 | 1780  | 1796
    Mingotti, Regina                           | 1728 | 1748 | 1787  | 1807
    Ciprandi, Ercole                           | 1738 | 1754 | 1763  | 1790
    Arnould, Madeleine Sophie                  | 1744 | 1757 | 1778  | 1803
    Calori, Angiola                            | 1732 | 1758 | 1783  |_1790_
    Tenducci, Giusto Fernandino                | 1736 | 1758 | 1791  |_1800_
    Catley, Anne                               | 1745 | 1762 | 1784  | 1789
    Amici, Anna Lucia de                       | 1740 | 1763 | 1789  |  ?
    Manzuoli, Giovanni                         | 1725 | 1764 | 1771  |  ?
    Ranzzini, Venanzio                         | 1747 | 1765 |       | 1810
    Pacchierotti, Gasparo                      | 1744 | 1769 | 1796  | 1821
    Ansani, Giovanni                           | 1750 | 1770 | 1800  |_1815_
    Allegranti, Madalena                       |  ?   | 1771 | 1799  |  ?
    Rubinelli, Giovanni Battista               | 1753 | 1771 | 1800  | 1829
    Mara, Gertrude Elizabeth                   | 1749 | 1771 | 1800  | 1833
    Lebrun, Francesca                          | 1756 | 1771 | 1790  | 1791
    Davies, Cecilia                            | 1752 | 1773 | 1791  | 1836
    Marchesi, Luigi                            | 1755 | 1774 | 1806  | 1829
    Cavalieri, Katharina                       | 1761 | 1775 | 1793  | 1801
    Saint Huberty, Antoinette Cecile           | 1756 | 1777 | 1789  | 1812
    Solie, Jean Pierre                         | 1755 | 1778 |       | 1812
    Kelly, Michael                             | 1764 | 1779 | 1826  | 1826
    Banti, Brigitta Giorgi                     | 1759 | 1779 |  ?    | 1806
    Adamberger, Valentin                       | 1743 | 1780 |  ?    | 1804
    Babbini, Matteo                            | 1754 |_1780_| 1802  | 1816
    Crouch, Mrs. Anna Maria                    | 1763 | 1780 | 1800  | 1805
    Garat, Pierre Jean                         | 1764 |  ?   | 1814  | 1823
    Storace, Ann Selina                        | 1766 | 1780 | 1808  | 1817
    Sestini, Giovanna                          |  ?   | 1783 | 1791  |  ?
    Crescentini, Girolamo                      | 1766 | 1783 | 1812  | 1846
    Incledon, Charles Benjamin                 | 1763 | 1784 | 1826  | 1826
    Bassi, Luigi                               | 1766 | 1784 | 1815  | 1825
    Vogl, Johann Michael                       | 1768 |  ?   |  ?    | 1840
    Schroeder-Devrient, Wilhelmine              | 1804 | 1821 | 1847  | 1860
    Billington, Mrs. Elizabeth (nee Weichsel)  | 1768 | 1784 | 1809  | 1818
    Saint Aubin, Jeanne Charlotte Schroeder    | 1764 | 1786 | 1818  | 1850
    Dickons, Mrs. (nee Poole)                  | 1770 | 1787 | 1822  | 1833
    Braham, John                               | 1774 | 1787 | 1852  | 1856
    Bertinotti, Teresa                         | 1776 | 1788 | 1823  | 1854
    Lazzarini, Gustavo                         | 1765 | 1789 |_1802_ |  ?
    Crivelli, Gaetano                          | 1774 | 1793 | 1829  | 1836
    Grassini, Josephine                        | 1773 | 1794 | 1817  | 1850
    Pellegrini, Felice                         | 1774 | 1795 | 1829  | 1832
    Catalani, Angelica                         | 1779 | 1795 | 1828  | 1849
    Campenhout, Francois van                   | 1780 | 1797 | 1827  | 1848
    Siboni, Giuseppe                           | 1780 | 1797 | 1818  | 1839
    Velluti, Giovanni Battista                 | 1781 | 1800 | 1829  | 1861
    Tacchinardi, Niccolo                       | 1776 | 1804 | 1831  | 1850
    Galli, Filippo                             | 1783 | 1804 |_1830_ | 1853
    Colbran (Rossini), Isabella Angela         | 1785 | 1806 | 1824  | 1845
    Forti, Anton                               | 1790 | 1807 |  ?    | 1859
    Rubini, Giovanni Battista                  | 1795 | 1807 | 1844  | 1854
    Garcia, Manuel del Popolo Vicente          | 1775 | 1808 | 1828  | 1832
    Davide, Giovanni                           | 1789 | 1810 | 1841  | 1851
    Fodor-Mainvielle, Josephine                | 1793 | 1810 | 1833  |  ?
    Pisaroni, Benedetta Rosamunda              | 1793 | 1811 | 1829  | 1872
    Stephens, Catherine                        | 1794 | 1812 | 1835  | 1882
    Lablache, Luigi                            | 1794 | 1812 | 1856  | 1856
    Begnis, Giuseppe de                        | 1793 | 1813 |  ?    | 1849
    Begnis, Signora Claudine Ronzi de          | 1800 | 1819 |  ?    | 1853
    Brighenti, Mme. Maria                      | 1792 | 1814 | 1836  |  ?
    Camporese, Violanti                        | 1785 |_1816_| 1829  |  ?
    Pasta, Giuditta                            | 1798 | 1816 | 1850  | 1865
    Donzelli, Domenico                         | 1790 | 1816 | 1841  | 1873
    Boccabadati, Luigia                        |  ?   | 1817 |  ?    | 1850
    Tamburini, Antonio                         | 1800 | 1818 | 1859  | 1876
    Damoreau, Laure Cinthie Montalant          | 1801 | 1819 | 1846  | 1863
    Sontag, Henriette (Countess Rossi)         | 1805 | 1820 | 1854  | 1854
    Curioni, Alberico                          |_1790_|_1815_|  ?    |  ?
    Nourrit, Adolphe                           | 1802 | 1821 | 1839  | 1839
    Schroeder-Devrient, Wilhelmine              | 1804 | 1821 | 1847  | 1860
    Frischer-Achten, Frau                      | 1805 | 1821 | 1856  | 1896
    Unger, Caroline                            | 1805 | 1821 | 1840  | 1877
    Caradori-Allan, Maria Caterina Rosalbina   | 1800 | 1822 | 1846  | 1865
    Paton, Mary Anne                           | 1802 | 1822 | 1844  | 1863
    Duprez, Gilbert                            | 1806 | 1825 |_1842_ | 1896
    Gras, Mme. Julie Aimee Dorus               | 1807 | 1825 | 1851  | 1896
    Malibran, Maria Felicita                   | 1808 | 1825 | 1836  | 1836
    Badiale, Cesare                            | 1800 | 1827 | 1865  | 1865
    Brambilla, Marietta                        | 1807 | 1827 |  ?    |  ?
    Templeton, John                            | 1802 | 1828 | 1852  |
    Staudigl, Joseph                           | 1807 | 1827 | 1856  | 1861
    Grisi, Giulia                              | 1812 | 1829 | 1861  | 1869
    Albertazzi, Emma                           | 1814 | 1830 | 1846  | 1847
    Seguin, Arthur Edward Shelden              | 1809 | 1831 |  ?    | 1852
    Ronconi, Giorgio                           | 1810 | 1831 | 1874  | 1890
    Bishop, Mme. Anna                          | 1814 | 1831 |  ?    | 1884
    Persiani, Fanny                            | 1812 | 1832 | 1858  | 1867
    Stoltz, Rosina                             | 1815 | 1832 | 1849  |  ?
    Loewe, Johanna Sophie                      | 1815 | 1832 | 1848  | 1866
    Frege, Mme. (Livia Gerhard)                | 1818 | 1832 |  ?    | 1847
    Moriani, Napoleone                         | 1806 | 1833 | 1847  | 1878
    Novello, Clara Anastasia                   | 1818 | 1833 | 1860  |
    Shaw, Mary (Mrs. Alfred Shaw)              | 1814 | 1834 | 1843  | 1876
    Poole, Elizabeth                           | 1820 | 1834 | 1870  |
    Pischek, Johann Baptist                    | 1814 | 1835 | 1863  | 1873
    Nau, Maria Dolores Benedicta Josephina     | 1818 | 1836 | 1856  |
    Sequin, Mrs. (Ann Childe)                  |_1818_| 1836 |       | 1889
    Castellan, Jeanne Anais                    | 1819 | 1836 | 1859  |
    Tichatschek, Joseph Alois                  | 1807 | 1837 | 1870  | 1885
    Fraschini, Gaetano                         | 1815 | 1837 |_1870_ |
    Viardot-Garcia, Pauline                    | 1821 | 1837 | 1870  |
    Mario, Chevaliere di Candia                | 1812 | 1838 | 1867  | 1883
    Belletti, Giovanni                         | 1813 | 1838 | 1863  |
    Roger, Gustave Hyppolite                   | 1815 | 1838 | 1859  | 1879
    Frezzolini, Erminia                        | 1818 | 1838 | 1853  | 1884
    Thillon, Anna                              | 1819 | 1838 | 1856  |
    Lind-Goldschimidt, Jenny                   | 1820 | 1838 | 1870  | 1887
    Harrison, William                          | 1813 | 1839 |  ?    | 1868
    Reeves, John Sims                          | 1822 | 1839 |_1891_ |
    Gardoni, Enrico                            | 1821 | 1840 | 1874  | 1882
    Rudersdorff, Mme. Herminie                 | 1822 | 1840 | 1872  | 1882
    Tamberlik, Enrico                          | 1820 | 1841 | 1877  | 1889
    Saiuton-Dolby, Charlotte Helen             | 1821 | 1841 | 1870  | 1885
    Formes, Karl                               | 1810 | 1842 |  ?    | 1889
    Weiss, Willoughby Hunter                   | 1820 | 1842 |       | 1867
    Alboni, Marietta                           | 1823 | 1843 | 1871  | 1894
    Reichardt, Alexander                       | 1825 | 1843 | 1857  |
    Wagner, Johanna                            | 1828 | 1844 | 1861  | 1894
    Ander, Aloys                               | 1821 | 1845 | 1864  | 1864
    Gassier, Edouard                           | 1822 | 1845 |       | 1871
    Hayes, Catharine                           | 1825 | 1845 | 1857  | 1861
    Formes, Theodora                           | 1826 | 1846 |_1864_ |
    Borghi, Adelaide                           | 1829 | 1846 |_1870_ |
    Bosio, Angiolina                           | 1830 | 1846 | 1859  | 1859
    Cruvelli, Jeanne Sophie Charlotte          | 1826 | 1847 | 1855  |
    Burde-Ney, Jenny                           | 1826 | 1847 |       | 1886
    Pyne, Louisa Fanny                         | 1832 | 1847 | 1868  |  ?
    Cabel, Marie Josephe (nee Dreulette)       | 1827 | 1849 | 1877  | 1885
    Carvalho, Mme. Marie Caroline Felix        | 1827 | 1849 | 1882  | 1895
    Niemann, Albert                            | 1831 | 1849 | 1887
    Tietiens, Therese Caroline Johanna         | 1831 | 1849 | 1877  | 1877
    Nantier-Didier, Constance Betsy Rosabelle  | 1831 | 1850 |       | 1867
    Stockhausen, Julius                        | 1826 | 1848 | 1870  |
    Faure, Jean Baptiste                       | 1830 | 1852 |       |
    Piccolomini, Maria                         | 1836 | 1852 | 1863  |
    Parepa-Rosa, Euphrosine de Boyesku         | 1836 | 1852 | 1873  | 1874
    Bettini, Alessandro                        | 1830 | 1853 |       |
    Wachtel, Theodor                           | 1823 | 1854 |       | 1893
    Sedie, Enrico Delle                        | 1826 | 1854 |_1870_ |
    Phillips, Adelaide                         | 1833 | 1854 | 1881  | 1882
    Wilt, Marie                                | 1834 | 1857 | 1878  | 1891
    Nicolini, Ernest Nicolas                   | 1834 | 1855 | 1878  | 1898
    Betz, Franz                                | 1835 | 1856 |       |
    Rokitansky, Victor F. von                  | 1836 | 1856 | 1871  |
    Peschka-Leutner, Mme. Minna                | 1839 | 1856 |       | 1890
    Giuglini, Antonio                          | 1826 | 1857 | 1862  | 1865
    Fancelli, Giuseppe                         | 1836 |  ?   |  ?    | 1889
    Santley, Charles                           | 1834 | 1857 |       |
    Marimon, Marie                             | 1839 | 1857 | 1884  |
    Artot, Mme. Marguerite Josephine D. M.     | 1835 | 1857 | 1887  |
    Naudin, Emilio                             | 1823 | 1858 |_1880_ |
    Whitney, Myron W.                          | 1836 | 1858 | 1897  |
    Galli-Marie, Mme. Celestine                | 1840 | 1859 |       |
    Lucca, Pauline                             | 1841 | 1859 | 1884  |
    Patti-Nicolini, Mme. Adelina               | 1843 | 1859 |       |
    Trebelli-Bettini, Mme. Zelia               | 1838 | 1859 |       | 1892
    Sherrington, Mme. Lemmens                  | 1834 | 1860 |       |
    Scaria, Emil                               | 1838 | 1860 | 1884  | 1886
    Krauss, Marie Gabrielle                    | 1842 | 1860 |  ?    |
    Foli, Allan James (Foley)                  | 1841 | 1861 |       |
    Agnesi, Louis Ferdinand Leopold            | 1833 | 1861 |       | 1871
    Capoul, Joseph Victor Amedee               | 1839 | 1861 |_1895_ |
    Patti, Carlotta                            | 1840 | 1861 |_1880_ | 1889
    Kellogg, Clara Louise                      | 1842 | 1861 | 1882  |
    Murska, Ilma di                            | 1836 | 1862 | 1878  | 1889
    Kraus, Dr. Emil                            | 1840 |      |       | 1889
    Henschel, Georg                            | 1850 | 1862 |       |
    Nilsson, Christine                         | 1843 | 1864 | 1888  |
    Materna, Amalie (Frau Friedrich)           | 1847 | 1864 | 1894  |
    Patey, Janet Monach                        | 1842 | 1865 |       | 1894
    Vogl, Heinrich                             | 1845 | 1865 |       |
    Vogl, Theresa Thoma                        | 1846 | 1865 |       |
    Roze, Marie                                | 1846 | 1865 |       |
    Nachbaur, Franz                            | 1835 |_1865_|       |
    Lloyd, Edward                              | 1845 | 1866 |       |
    Adams, Charles R.                          | 1848 | 1866 | 1879  |
    Scalchi, Sophia                            | 1850 | 1866 |       |
    Brandt, Marianne                           | 1842 | 1867 |       | 1893
    Cary, Annie Louise                         | 1846 | 1867 | 1882  |
    Lehmann, Lilli                             | 1848 | 1868 |       |
    Hauck, Minnie                              | 1852 | 1868 | 1886  |
    Vaucorbeil, Anna Sternberg                 | 1845 | 1869 | 1873  | 1898
    Heilbron, Marie                            | 1849 |_1869_|       | 1886
    Karl, Thomas                               | 1847 |_1870_|_1890_ |
    Maurel, Victor                             |_1845_| 1869 |       |
    Gayarre, Giuliano                          | 1848 | 1873 |       | 1890
    Del Puente, Parquale                       |  ?   |_1870_|       |
    Schott, Anton                              | 1846 | 1870 |       |
    Sucher, Rose (Hasselbeck)                  |_1850_| 1870 |       |
    Albani, Marie L. C. E. Lajeunnesse         |      |      |       |
      (Mrs. Ernest Gye)                        | 1850 | 1870 |       |
    Sterling, Antoinette                       | 1851 | 1871 |       |
    Campanini, Italo                           | 1846 | 1871 | 1890  | 1896
    Valleria, Alwina Lohmann                   | 1848 | 1871 |       |
    Pappenheim, Mme. Eugenie                   |  ?   | 1872 |       |
    Abbott, Emma (Mrs. Wetherell)              | 1850 | 1872 |       | 1891
    Malten, Therese                            | 1855 | 1873 |       |
    McGuckin, Barton                           | 1852 | 1874 |       |
    Belocca, Anna di                           | 1854 |_1874_|       |
    Reicher, Hedwig                            | 1853 | 1874 |       | 1883
    Shakespeare, William                       | 1849 | 1875 |       |
    Thursby, Emma                              | 1857 | 1875 |       |
    Gaylord, Mrs. Julia                        | 1852 | 1875 |       | 1894
    Reszke, Josephine de                       |_1855_| 1875 |_1884_ | 1890
    Litta, Marie                               | 1856 | 1876 | 1883  | 1883
    De Reszke, Jean                            | 1852 | 1874 |       |
    De Reszke, Edouard                         | 1855 | 1876 |       |
    Klafsky, Katharina                         | 1855 |      |       | 1896
    Gerster, Etelka                            | 1856 | 1876 | 1887  |
    Fursch-Madi, Mme                           |  ?   | 1876 |       | 1894
    Sembrich, Marcella                         | 1858 | 1877 |       |
    Van Zandt, Marie                           | 1861 | 1879 |_1898_ |
    Bispham, David Scull                       | 1857 |_1880_|       |
    Nordica, Giglia (Lillian Norton)           | 1856 | 1880 |       |
    L'Allemand, Pauline                        | 1862 |_1880_|       |
    Nevada, Emma (Wixom)                       | 1862 | 1880 |       |
    Plancon, Pol                               |_1860_| 1881 |       |
    Juch, Emma                                 | 1863 | 1881 |       |
    Calve, Emma (Roquer)                       | 1866 | 1882 |       |
    Russell, Ella                              |_1862_| 1882 |       |
    Van Dyk, Ernest Marie Hubert               | 1861 | 1883 |       |
    Engel, Marie                               |  ?   | 1887 |       |
    Melba, Nellie (Mitchell)                   | 1864 | 1887 |       |
    Ternina, Milka                             |  ?   | 1888 |       |
    Eames, Emma                                | 1867 | 1888 |       |
    Sanderson, Sybil                           | 1865 | 1889 |       |
    Davies, Ffrancon                           |  ?   | 1890 |       |
    Delna, Marie                               | 1875 | 1892 |       |
    Brema, Marie                               |  ?   | 1892 |       |
    -------------------------------------------+------+------+-------+-----



INDEX.


Abbott, Emma, 195-199, 323.

Adams, Charles R., 271.

Adams, Suzanne, 323.

Adler-Devries, Madame, 289.

Agnesi, 312, 313.

Agniez. See Agnesi.

Albani, Marie, 141, 187-195, 213, 225.

Alboni, Marietta, 89-94, 129, 144, 300.

Alvary, Max, 280.

Arnoldson, Sigrid, 252-253.

Arnould, Sophie, 20-22, 23.

Artot, Madame, 113-114.


Bailey, Lillian, 321.

Belocca, Anna de, 308-309.

Berthald, Barron, 228.

Betz, 122.

Billington, Mrs. Elizabeth, 27, 29-33, 34, 38, 59.

Bispham, David, 293-295, 312.

Bordogni, 43.

Bordoni, Faustina, 14-16.

Boschi, Giuseppe, 14.

Bosio, Angiolina, 88-89.

Braham, John, 35-37, 95, 96.

Brandt, Marianne, 272, 302-304.

Brema, Marie, 272, 310-311.

Brignoli, 165-167, 260, 261, 306.

Broccolini, Giovanni Chiari di, 313.

Broschi. See Farinelli.


Calve, Emma, 115, 128, 226, 227, 236-243, 257-258.

Campanini, Italo, 263, 267-270, 306, 307.

Camporese, Violante, 41.

Capoul, Joseph Victor Amedee, 262-263, 268.

Carvalho, Marie Caroline Felix Miolan, 106-107.

Cary, Annie Louise, 145, 186, 254, 263, 268, 271, 304-308.

Catalani, Angelica, 37-40, 116, 131.

Celli, Filippo, 59.

Clarke, John. See Broccolini, Giovanni Chiari di.

Colbran, Isabella Angela, 44.

Crescentini, Girolamo, 28-29, 33, 36, 44.

Cuzzoni, Francesca, 14-15, 116.


Damoreau, Laure, 41.

Davies, Ffrancon, 291-293.

Devrient, 78.

Devrient, Madame Schroeder. See Schroeder-Devrient, Madame.

Dotti, Louise, 323.

Duprez, Gilbert, 58, 106-107, 313.

Durastanti, Margherita, 13.


Eames, Emma, 226, 254-258, 313.

Engle, Marie, 251-252, 254.


Fancelli, 261-262.

Farinelli, 16-17, 131.

Faure, Jean Baptiste, 99, 106, 110, 285-287.

Fenton, Lavinia, 16.

Fischer, Emil, 314.

Fodor, Josephine, 41.

Foli, 312.

Formes, Karl, 100-103.


Gabrielli, Caterina, 18-20, 116.

Galassi, 291.

Galli-Marie, Madame, 114-115, 175, 240.

Garcia, Madame, 50.

Garcia, Manuel, 43, 49-51, 54, 57, 83, 144, 284, 297, 314.

Garcia, Pauline. See Viardot-Garcia, Madame.

Gardoni, Italo, 89.

Gassier, 300.

Gayarre, Madame, 235, 289.

Gerster, Etelka, 174, 187, 201-209, 213, 291, 307, 308.

Gilbert, Zelia. See Trebelli-Bettini, Madame.

Ginglini, Antonio, 267, 300.

Grassini, Giuseppa, 33-35, 59.

Grisi, Madame Giulietta, 58-63, 70, 74-75, 77, 79, 81, 88, 89, 104, 107,
116, 143, 144, 273.

Guglielmi, Giacomo, 59.


Hastreiter, Helen, 323.

Hauk, Minnie, 128, 145, 181-185, 186, 240, 254, 260.

Henschel, Georg, 319-321.


Ibos, Henry Guillaume, 283.

Incledon, Charles Benjamin, 35-36, 144.


Juch, Emma, 323.


Kalisch, Paul, 180-181.

Kellogg, Clara Louise, 145, 147-150, 186, 198, 254, 271.

Krauss, Marie Gabrielle, 146.


Lablache, Luigi, 60, 65, 67-70, 104.

Laborde, 238.

Lajeunesse, Marie Louise Cecelia Emma. See Albani, Madame.

La Maupin, Madame, 16.

Lassalle, 226.

Lazzarini, Gustavo, 33.

Lehmann, Lilli, 178-181, 272.

L'Epine, Margarita de, 12.

Le Rochois, Marthe, 16.

Levasseur, 43.

Lind, Jenny, 47, 81-88, 93, 116, 124, 131, 143, 167, 174, 211, 253, 273,
297.

L'Isle, Mecene Marie de, 114-115.

Litta, Marie, 254, 271, 323.

Lloyd, Edward, 282-283.

Lohse-Klafsky, Katharina, 200-201.

Lucca, Pauline, 116-127, 140, 144, 150, 263.

Lussan, Zelie de, 258-259.


Malibran, Maria Felicien, 43, 46-47, 49-53, 54, 55, 61, 77, 81, 107,
131, 143, 273.

Malten, Therese, 199-200.

Mara, Gertrude Elizabeth, 25-28, 38, 59.

Marchesi, Luigi, 28, 33.

Marchesi, Madame, 202, 231, 238.

Marimon, Madame, 289.

Mario,----, 17-18.

Mario, Cavaliere di Candia, 60, 61, 62, 63, 70-76, 104, 266, 267, 299.

Masini, 261-262.

Materna, Amalie, 168-175, 180, 200, 272, 280, 315.

Maurel, Victor, 263, 268, 287-290.

Melba, Madame, 226, 227, 243-248, 258, 275.

Mingotti, Caterina, 16.

Mitchell, Nellie. See Melba, Madame.

Murska, Ilma di, 150-157, 213, 263.


Nantier-Didier, Madame, 110.

Nevada, Emma, 219, 230-236, 254, 261, 289.

Nicolini, Ernest, 110, 139, 260-261.

Nicolini, Nicolino Grimaldi, 17-18.

Niemann, Albert, 264-265, 272.

Nilsson, Christine, 99, 140, 144, 150, 157-168, 174, 184, 193, 211, 253,
263, 268, 306.

Nordica, Lillian, 220-230, 254, 258, 272, 275.

Nourrit, Adolf, 57-58.


Pacchierotti, Gasparo, 22-23.

Padilla-y-Ramos, 114.

Parepa-Rosa, Euphrosine, 111-113, 174, 197, 305.

Pasta, Giuditta, 39, 41-44, 61, 77, 107, 116, 203.

Patti, Adelina, 116, 120, 124, 126, 127-142, 144, 145, 150, 152, 157,
161, 164-165, 174, 187, 204-205, 213, 218, 220, 240, 243, 245, 248, 260,
261, 276, 301, 308.

Patti, Carlotta, 146-147.

Persiani, Fanny, 79-80, 88.

Peschka-Leutner, Madame, 113.

Phillips, Adelaide, 145, 186, 254, 296-298.

Piccolomini, Maria, 111.

Pisaroni, Benedetta Rosamunda, 41.

Plancon, Pol, 226, 317-318.

Puente, Giuseppe del, 263, 291.

Puget, 238.


Ravelli, 260, 291.

Reed, Margaret, 323.

Reeves, John Sims, 95-97, 98, 283, 294, 313.

Reszke, Edouard de, 226, 272, 281, 289, 315-317.

Reszke, Jean de, 98, 226, 227, 228, 272, 273-277, 281, 289, 315.

Reszke, Josephine de, 281.

Robinson, Anastasia, 13-14.

Roger, Gustave Hyppolite, 94-95.

Ronconi, Georgio, 89, 104-105.

Roquer, Emma. See Calve, Emma.

Rotoli, Angusto, 75.

Roze, Marie, 175-178.

Rubinelli, Giovanni Battista, 22-23.

Rubini, Giambattista, 60, 63-65, 73, 131.

Russell, Ella, 251.


Salla, Mlle., 309.

Sanderson, Sybil, 248-251, 254.

Santley, Charles, 112, 284-285, 300, 313.

Santley, Edith, 285.

Sarti, 28.

Scalchi, Sofia, 226, 228, 291, 300-302.

Scaria, Emil, 173, 280, 314-315.

Schott, Anton, 279.

Schroeder-Devrient, Madame, 77-78.

Seguin, Elizabeth, 111.

Sembrich, Marcella, 140-141, 212-214.

Senesino, 14.

Sontag, Henriette, 39, 45-47, 77, 80, 88, 144.

Staudigl, Joseph, 48-49, 101.

St. Huberty, Antoinette Cecile Clavel, 24-25.

Stockhausen, Julius, 110, 319-320.

Strong, Susan, 323.


Tacchinardi, 79.

Tamagno, Francisco, 131, 280-282.

Tamberlik, Enrico, 97-100, 267.

Tamburini, Antonio, 60, 65-67.

Tenduccini, 30.

Thoma, Theresa. See Vogl, Theresa.

Tichatschek, Joseph Alois, 104.

Tietiens, Theresa Carolin Johanna, 106-109, 300.

Todi, 28.

Tofts, Katharine, 13.

Trebelli-Bettini, Madame, 298-300.

Valleria, Alwina, 254, 291, 323.

Van Dyck, Ernest Marie Hubert, 250, 277-279.

Van Rooy, 283.

Van Zandt, Marie, 215-219, 254.

Verger, 306.

Viardot-Garcia, Madame, 43, 49, 53-57, 79, 95, 107, 114, 303.

Vogl, Theresa, 266.

Vogl, Heinrich, 265-266, 272.


Wachtel, Theodore, 110, 112, 122, 263-264.

Weichsel. See Billington.

Whitney, Myron W., 313, 319, 322-323.

Winkelmann, Hermann, 173, 272, 279-280, 315.

Wixom, Emma. See Nevada, Emma.

       *       *       *       *       *


The following typographical errors have been corrected by the ebook
transcriber:

Euphrosyne=>Euphrosine {2}

Sidney (unchanged)

Astrofiammente=>Astrofiammante

Pisaroni, Benadetta Rosamunda=>Pisaroni, Benedetta Rosamunda

Gabrielli, Catterina=>Gabrielli, Caterina

Crescentini, Girolano=>Crescentini, Girolamo

Puente, Guiseppe del=>Puente, Giuseppe del

Sontag, Henrietta=>Sontag, Henriette

Klafsky, Katarina =>Klafsky, Katharina

Malten, Therese=>Malten, Therese

St. Huberty, Antoinette Cecile Clavel=>St. Huberty, Antoinette Cecile Clavel

Carvalho, Mme. Marie Caroline Felix =>Carvalho, Mme. Marie Caroline Felix

Plancon=>Plancon {2}

Tannhauser=>Tannhaeuser {3}

Galli-Marie, Mme. Celestine=>Galli-Marie, Mme. Celestine

Lohne-Klafsky=>Lohse-Klafsky

Billington, Mrs. Elizabeth (nee Weichsell)=>
Billington, Mrs. Elizabeth (nee Weichsel)

Capoul, Joseph Victor Amedee=>Capoul, Joseph Victor Amedee

Calve, Emma=>Calve, Emma








End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of Famous Singers of To-day and Yesterday, by
Henry C. Lahee

*** 