THE RETURN TO VIENNA.

Within a fortnight after her farewell performance of Haydn’s _Creation_, at Munich, Mdlle. Lind was again hard at work in Vienna, where she arrived on the last day of the year 1846.

Since her first visit a sad change had taken place. To her great sorrow— for she had learned sincerely to respect her—Madame Vivanot, in whose house she had lived so comfortably, was dead. She therefore chose for her residence some apartments annexed to the _Theater an der Wien_, and known as the _Theater Gebäude_. These she rented from Herr Pokorny; and in these she remained until the end of her engagement.

But in the meantime she had formed a closer intimacy still with the family of Herr Oberstabsarzt Professor Dr. von Jaeger, a physician of high reputation, whose daughter was her chosen friend, and to whose amiable wife she looked up as to a mother. With these dear friends, she spent all her free days during the season of 1847; and she afterwards spoke of this period as one of the happiest in her life.

Of her experiences in Vienna, she wrote thus, to Madame Birch-Pfeiffer:—

“I am living at Pokorny’s; for, only think! poor Madame Vivanot, with whom I lived last year, is dead. It has grieved me terribly. I shall only stay here for this month. Unhappily, the _Feldlager_ will be given later than I expected, and I shall only be able to take part in a few representations. I am the more sorry for this, because the Opera has now been made so very different, and my _rôle_ has been greatly improved!

“Meyerbeer behaves to me like an angel. I cannot help being fond of him—and really am so. He takes an enormous amount of trouble with his work, and I hope it will succeed.

“Things are going on better here at the theatre than they did last spring. But I am not so happy, here, as at Munich. I dream of Munich. I return there from here, direct, to study Italian very quietly at the Kaulbachs; for I am not going to Italy. That would take me too far out of my way; and I have an excellent opportunity of studying Italian, with a true friend.”[87]

Meanwhile, Mdlle. Lind remained as great a favourite as ever with the public. The Opera chosen for her re-appearance, on the 7th of January, 1847, was _La Figlia del Reggimento_, under its new German title, _Marie, die Tochter des Regiments_.

The success of the new _rôle_ was indescribable. The Opera became so popular, that, after the first few representations had taken place, a portrait of Mdlle. Lind, in the character of “Marie,” published at Munich, found its way at Vienna into the house of every music-lover in the city. The print was so much superior, in every way, to the average portraits of dramatic artists “in character,” that we have thought it better to present our readers with a copy of it, at once, than to reserve our illustration—as we had originally intended to do—until our notice of the production of the Opera in England.

The _Wiener Zeitung_, which had always been more cautious in its expressions of praise than the Berlin newspapers, entirely forgot its reserve, on the present occasion.

“Her song is the audible expression of her inner life,” it said. “Her acting and singing melt into one another, and the beauty of the dramatic expression moves hand in hand with the nobility of the declamatory vocalisation. A voice so ideal, and so full of soul, a manner so earnest, such childlike _naïveté_, such deep poetry, such perfect innocence of song, form a very rare manifestation in the world of Art. We find in Fräulein Jenny Lind’s singing a fervour, a feeling, a spiritual life; precious qualities, by means of which she ennobles the most insignificant details, and raises them to the highest level of æsthetic beauty. And it is precisely from her creative power of conception, her inspiration, and her sympathetic character, that this æsthetic beauty springs.”

But the triumphs at the _Theater an der Wien_ were not the only agreeable events by which the opening of the new year was enlivened.

It happened that, at this time, Dr. Robert and Madame Clara Schumann were staying at Vienna and giving concerts of deep artistic significance. And it will be readily understood that Mdlle. Lind did not neglect so happy an opportunity of practically expressing her thanks for the kindness Madame Schumann had shown her, at her own concert in Leipzig, in the previous spring.

Printed by permission of J. Aibl Publisher, Munich.

_Jenny Lind in the character of “La Figlia del Reggimento.”_ ]

The three first concerts were over. At the fourth, and last, announced to take place on the 10th of January, Mdlle. Lind had offered to sing; and the demand for tickets then so greatly increased the possible supply, that the room was crowded to suffocation. The concert was most successful. Madame Schumann played to perfection; and the songs received additional lustre from her delightful accompaniments, with which those of Mendelssohn alone could be worthily compared.

The reader cannot fail to be interested with the following extracts from the Diary she kept at this time:—

“1847. _Saturday, Jan. 2._—Called early on Jenny Lind, who greeted me with a request to sing at my last Concert, whereat I was greatly delighted. She refused all thanks, telling me, over and over again, that she looked upon it as an obligation; and that, besides that, she esteemed it an honour to sing at my Concert.

“_Wednesday, Jan. 6._—Jenny Lind called on us for rehearsal. She came earlier than was arranged; and, as she did not find us at home, she entertained herself with my two children, whom we found upon her lap when we returned. She is a dear creature, full of soul, whom I like better and better, the more I see of her.

“_Sunday, Jan. 10._—Gave my fourth and last Concert, which was full to crushing (_zum Erdrücken voll_), so that many people could get no places at all. Jenny Lind sang wonderfully. One can never forget such achievements.

“_Monday, Jan. 11._—We called on Jenny Lind, who, immediately upon our entrance, called out, ‘Will you not give another Concert, and let me sing at it?’ We stayed rather a long time with her; and I sat as if rooted to my place. I am so fond of her. She is for me the warmest noblest being that I have yet found among Artistes—and how can I ever forget her? One must know her, and know her thoroughly, to love her as I do. We talked about many things, including Stockholm, when she made me promise that I would stay with her, when I came there, and that I would not go unless she was there herself, so that she might take part in my Concerts. It was very nice of her. I could have hugged her all the time!”[88]

There were many other Concerts, during the winter. A private one, at the house of the Russian Grand Duchess; a _soirée_, given by the Archduchess Sophie, the mother of the present Emperor of Austria, and another, given by the Empress, the Consort of the Emperor Ferdinand. The members of the Imperial family had, from the first, shown all honour to the talented “Guest,” and received her with marked attention; and they always heard her sing with every sign of unaffected pleasure.

Besides assisting at the Court performances, Mdlle. Lind sang at a concert given by the little Wilhelmina Neruda—now Lady Hallé—who, though then little more than six-and-a-half years old, had already made a great reputation, in Vienna, as a child-violinist; and at a later performance, the entire receipts of which were distributed, in equal shares, between the _Kinderspital_, or Children’s Hospital, and the _Kleinkinderbewahranstalt_, or Home for Little Children, for both of which the results were most fortunate.

While these events were in progress, Mendelssohn wrote to her thus:—

“Leipzig, Feb. 19, 1847.

“It is a long time since we have spoken to each other, my dear Fräulein. Why I must begin my letter thus, and why my heart felt so heavy, when Dr. Schumann brought me your letter—delayed since the 20th of last month—I will some day tell you, in detail, by word of mouth.

“To-day I have before all things, a favour to ask of you. You will think this a great bore: for which reason I come down upon it, like a sledge-hammer—seeing that I can in no wise let you off it.

“When your journey to England was in question, you once showed me confidence enough to ask my opinion; and, in connection with this, I have now something on my mind.

“In your last letter but one, you say:—‘Lumley takes Bunn’s contract wholly upon himself: _that I have in writing_.’ Is it asking too much, if I beg you, as soon as you have a moment to spare, to tell me where this stands written by Lumley? _i.e._ to send me a copy of the _words_ in which he pledges himself to take over the contract, and to let me see whether these words stand in your engagement with Lumley, or somewhere else?

“It seems to me, now, as if I saw you vexed at this request—but do not be so. I feel as if I should not have done my duty properly, if I had not asked you to send me this copy, and then, after knowing all about it, given my opinion more amply. Beforehand, I cannot give it; and, if you will allow yourself to be vexed at my importunity, I tell you that you yourself are in fault, since, by telling me so much, you gave me the right to enquire farther—made it, in fact, my duty to do so.

“A few days ago, Herr Arnemann was here, and we talked the whole thing over; but no one understands these matters more exactly than myself, for I have often had to do with the English, and, for that very reason, I should not like, to say anything incorrectly or by halves; and, for that very reason, _et cætera, et cætera_.

“Lumley began to send me the _libretto_ for the Opera, barely three weeks ago. It seems to me impossible to get the music for such a subject ready for the stage, in time for this season—that is to say, by May, at the latest—and I am in doubt as to whether I had better begin it, and get on as far as I can, or not begin it at all, since, as I said before, I feel that it will be impossible for me to finish it. There has already been much vexation, in connection with this—but I will tell you all about it, _vivâ voce_.

“To Madame Birch-Pfeiffer I have—as I had already resolved—written no more. But she wrote to me, lately, quite unexpectedly, to say that, for many reasons, to her _most bitter sorrow_, she could not entertain the idea of writing a _libretto_ for me. To this, however, I have not replied: and I think we are now of one mind.

“This letter is like a room in which people have been playing practical jokes, and turned all the furniture upside down. It is a great bore to have to set everything straight, and to put it into its right place. But it must be done, all the same; and only after that can one live comfortably there again. Do not weary yourself to make this clearance.

“It is all well with us here at home, thank God! and we all think of you every day. Breitkopf and Härtel have just sent me the first copy of a new quartette, by Hermann Wichmann, that they are now publishing. A few months ago I was staying in Wichmann’s house again, and was much pleased with your portrait, by Magnus, which is now there, instead of yourself.

“I have often and often thought over what you more than once said to me about Leipzig, when we were on the Rhine. I believe you were right; and, sooner or later, I shall have to follow your advice.

“My servant, to whom I was as much attached as you to your Annette, has died in our house, after a long illness. I was called up in the night; and, just as I came to him, he died. Since then, I have never been able to get over the moment.

“Joachim played splendidly at the concert, yesterday. He is a first-rate fellow. Apart from this, the music does not sound very well here, this winter; it is a little rough.”

We shall, however, dismiss these subjects for the present, and proceed to the description of a new triumph, which produced no small amount of excitement at the _Theater an der Wien_.