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diff --git a/.gitattributes b/.gitattributes new file mode 100644 index 0000000..6833f05 --- /dev/null +++ b/.gitattributes @@ -0,0 +1,3 @@ +* text=auto +*.txt text +*.md text diff --git a/38023-8.txt b/38023-8.txt new file mode 100644 index 0000000..18eddd5 --- /dev/null +++ b/38023-8.txt @@ -0,0 +1,13307 @@ +The Project Gutenberg EBook of Memoirs of an American Prima Donna, by +Clara Louise Kellogg + +This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with +almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or +re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included +with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org + + +Title: Memoirs of an American Prima Donna + +Author: Clara Louise Kellogg + +Release Date: November 15, 2011 [EBook #38023] + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: ISO-8859-1 + +*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK MEMOIRS OF AN AMERICAN PRIMA DONNA *** + + + + +Produced by Chuck Greif, University of Michigan Libraries +and the Online Distributed Proofreading Team at +http://www.pgdp.net + + + + + + + + +[Illustration: Signature; Clara Louise Kellogg Strakosch] + + + + +Memoirs of an + +American Prima Donna + +By + +Clara Louise Kellogg +(Mme. Strakosch) + +_With 40 Illustrations_ + +G. P. Putnam's Sons +New York and London +The Knickerbocker Press +1913 + +COPYRIGHT, 1913 +BY +CLARA LOUISE KELLOGG STRAKOSCH + +The Knickerbocker Press, New York + + WITH AFFECTION AND DEEPEST APPRECIATION OF HER WORTH + AS BOTH A RARE WOMAN AND A RARER FRIEND + I INSCRIBE THIS RECORD OF MY + PUBLIC LIFE TO + + JEANNETTE L. GILDER + + + + +FOREWORD + + +The name of Clara Louise Kellogg is known to the immediate generation +chiefly as an echo of the past. Yet only thirty years ago it was written +of her, enthusiastically but truthfully, that "no living singer needs a +biography less than Miss Clara Louise Kellogg; and nowhere in the world +would a biography of her be so superfluous as in America, where her name +is a household word and her illustrious career is familiar in all its +triumphant details to the whole people." + +The past to which she belongs is therefore recent; it is the past of +yesterday only, thought of tenderly by our fathers and mothers, spoken +of reverently as a poignant phase of their own ephemeral youth, one of +their sweet lavender memories. The pity is (although this is itself part +of the evanescent charm), that the singer's best creations can live but +in the hearts of a people, and the fame of sound is as fugitive as life +itself. + +A record of such creations is, however, possible and also enduring; +while it is also necessary for a just estimate of the development of +civilisations. As such, this record of her musical past--presented by +Clara Louise Kellogg herself--will have a place in the annals of the +evolution of musical art on the North American continent long after +every vestige of fluttering personal reminiscence has vanished down the +ages. A word of appreciation with regard to the preparation of this +record is due to John Jay Whitehead, Jr., whose diligent chronological +labours have materially assisted the editor. + +Clara Louise Kellogg came from New England stock of English heritage. +She was named after Clara Novello. Her father, George Kellogg, was an +inventor of various machines and instruments and, at the time of her +birth, was principal of Sumter Academy, Sumterville, S. C. Thus the +famous singer was acclaimed in later years not only as the Star of the +North (the _rôle_ of Catherine in Meyerbeer's opera of that name being +one of her achievements) but also as "the lone star of the South in the +operatic world." She first sang publicly in New York in 1861 at an +evening party given by Mr. Edward Cooper, the brother of Mrs. Abram +Hewitt. This was the year of her _début_ as Gilda in Verdi's opera of +_Rigoletto_ at the Academy of Music in New York City. When she came +before her countrymen as a singer, she was several decades ahead of her +musical public, for she was a lyric artist as well as a singer. America +was not then producing either singers or lyric artists; and in fact we +were, as a nation, but just getting over the notion that America could +not produce great voices. We held a very firm contempt for our own +facilities, our knowledge, and our taste in musical matters. If we did +discover a rough diamond, we had to send it to Italy to find out if it +were of the first water and to have it polished and set. Nothing was so +absolutely necessary for our self-respect as that some American woman +should arise with sufficient American talent and bravery to prove beyond +all cavil that the country was able to produce both singers and artists. + +For rather more than twenty-five years, from her appearance as Gilda +until she quietly withdrew from public life, when it seemed to her that +the appropriate moment for so doing had come, Clara Louise Kellogg +filled this need and maintained her contention. She was educated in +America, and her career, both in America and abroad, was remarkable in +its consistent triumphs. When Gounod's _Faust_ was a musical and an +operatic innovation, she broke through the Italian traditions of her +training and created the _rôle_ of Marguerite according to her own +beliefs; and throughout her later characterisations in Italian opera, +she sustained a wonderfully poised attitude of independence and of +observance with regard to these same traditions. In London, in St. +Petersburg, in Vienna, as well as in the length and breadth of the +United States, she gained a recognition and an appreciation in opera, +oratorio, and concert, second to none: and when, later, she organised an +English Opera Company and successfully piloted it on a course of +unprecedented popularity, her personal laurels were equally supreme. + +In 1887, Miss Kellogg married Carl Strakosch, who had for some time been +her manager. Mr. Strakosch is the nephew of the two well-known +impresarios, Maurice and Max Strakosch. After her marriage, the public +career of Clara Louise Kellogg virtually ended. The Strakosch home is in +New Hartford, Connecticut, and Mrs. Strakosch gave to it the name of +"Elpstone" because of a large rock shaped like an elephant that is the +most conspicuous feature as one enters the grounds through the +poplar-guarded gate. Mr. and Mrs. Strakosch are very fond of their New +Hartford home, but, the Litchfield County climate in winter being +severe, they usually spend their winters in Rome. They have also +travelled largely in Oriental countries. + +In 1912, Mr. and Mrs. Strakosch celebrated their Silver Wedding at +Elpstone. On this occasion, the whole village of New Hartford was given +up to festivities, and friends came from miles away to offer their +congratulations. Perhaps the most pleasant incident of the celebration +was the presentation of a silver loving cup to Mr. and Mrs. Strakosch by +the people of New Hartford in token of the affectionate esteem in which +they are both held. + +The woman, Clara Louise Kellogg, is quite as distinct a personality as +was the _prima donna_. So thoroughly, indeed, so fundamentally, is she a +musician that her knowledge of life itself is as much a matter of +harmony as is her music. She lives her melody; applying the basic +principle that Carlyle has expressed so admirably when he says: "See +deeply enough and you see musically." + +ISABEL MOORE. + +WOODSTOCK, N. Y. +August, 1913 + + + + +CONTENTS + + +CHAPTER PAGE + + I. MY FIRST NOTES 1 + + II. GIRLHOOD 11 + + III. "LIKE A PICKED CHICKEN!" 22 + + IV. A YOUTHFUL REALIST 33 + + V. LITERARY BOSTON 43 + + VI. WAR TIMES 55 + + VII. STEPS OF THE LADDER 62 + +VIII. MARGUERITE 77 + + IX. OPÉRA COMIQUE 90 + + X. ANOTHER SEASON AND A LITTLE MORE SUCCESS 99 + + XI. THE END OF THE WAR 110 + + XII. AND SO--TO ENGLAND! 119 + +XIII. AT HER MAJESTY'S 129 + + XIV. ACROSS THE CHANNEL 139 + + XV. MY FIRST HOLIDAY ON THE CONTINENT 152 + + XVI. FELLOW-ARTISTS 163 + +XVII. THE ROYAL CONCERTS AT BUCKINGHAM PALACE 177 + + XVIII. THE LONDON SEASON 188 + + XIX. HOME AGAIN 200 + + XX. "YOUR SINCERE ADMIRER" 212 + + XXI. ON THE ROAD 227 + + XXII. LONDON AGAIN 235 + + XXIII. THE SEASON WITH LUCCA 245 + + XXIV. ENGLISH OPERA 254 + + XXV. ENGLISH OPERA--_Continued_ 266 + + XXVI. AMATEURS AND OTHERS 276 + + XXVII. "THE THREE GRACES" 289 + +XXVIII. ACROSS THE SEAS AGAIN 300 + + XXIX. TEACHING AND THE HALF-TALENTED 309 + + XXX. THE WANDERLUST, AND WHERE IT LED ME 324 + + XXXI. SAINT PETERSBURG 334 + + XXXII. GOOD-BYE TO RUSSIA--AND THEN? 346 + +XXXIII. THE LAST YEARS OF MY PROFESSIONAL CAREER 357 + + XXXIV. _CODA_ 370 + + + + +ILLUSTRATIONS + + + + PAGE + + CLARA LOUISE KELLOGG STRAKOSCH _Frontispiece_ + + LYDIA ATWOOD 2 + Maternal Grandmother of Clara Louise Kellogg + + CHARLES ATWOOD 4 + Maternal Grandfather of Clara Louise Kellogg + From a Daguerreotype + + GEORGE KELLOGG 10 + Father of Clara Louise Kellogg + From a photograph by Gurney & Son + + CLARA LOUISE KELLOGG, AGED THREE 12 + From a photograph by Black & Case + + CLARA LOUISE KELLOGG, AGED SEVEN 14 + From a photograph by Black & Case + + CLARA LOUISE KELLOGG AS A GIRL 20 + From a photograph by Sarony + + CLARA LOUISE KELLOGG AS A YOUNG LADY 28 + From a photograph by Black & Case + + BRIGNOLI, 1865 42 + From a photograph by C. Silvy + + JAMES RUSSELL LOWELL, IN 1861 46 + From a photograph by Brady + + CHARLOTTE CUSHMAN, 1861 52 + From a photograph by Silabee, Case & Co. + + CLARA LOUISE KELLOGG AS FIGLIA 56 + From a photograph by Black & Case + + GENERAL HORACE PORTER 58 + From a photograph by Pach Bros. + + MUZIO 66 + From a photograph by Gurney & Son + + CLARA LOUISE KELLOGG AS LUCIA 72 + From a photograph by Elliott & Fry + + CLARA LOUISE KELLOGG AS MARTHA 74 + From a photograph by Turner + + CLARA LOUISE KELLOGG AS MARGUERITE, 1865 82 + From a photograph by Sarony + + CLARA LOUISE KELLOGG AS MARGUERITE, 1864 88 + From a silhouette by Ida Waugh + + GOTTSCHALK 106 + From a photograph by Case & Getchell + + JANE ELIZABETH CROSBY 108 + Mother of Clara Louise Kellogg + From a tintype + + GENERAL WILLIAM TECUMSEH SHERMAN, 1877 116 + From a photograph by Mora + + HENRY G. STEBBINS 122 + From a photograph by Grillet & Co. + + ADELINA PATTI 130 + From a photograph by Fredericks + + CLARA LOUISE KELLOGG AS LINDA, 1868 134 + From a photograph by Stereoscopic Co. + + MR. JAMES MCHENRY 138 + From a photograph by Brady + + CHRISTINE NILSSON, AS QUEEN OF THE NIGHT 146 + From a photograph by Pierre Petit + + DUKE OF NEWCASTLE 188 + From a photograph by John Burton & Sons + + CLARA LOUISE KELLOGG AS CARMEN 230 + From a photograph + + SIR HENRY IRVING AND ELLEN TERRY AS THE VICAR + AND OLIVIA 234 + From a photograph by Window & Grove + + FIRST EDITION OF THE "FAUST" SCORE, PUBLISHED + IN 1859 BY CHOUSENS OF PARIS, NOW IN THE + BOSTON PUBLIC LIBRARY 240 + + NEWSPAPER PRINT OF THE KELLOGG-LUCCA SEASON 250 + Drawn by Jos. Keppler + + CLARA LOUISE KELLOGG IN _MIGNON_ 252 + From a photograph by Mora + + ELLEN TERRY 284 + From a photograph by Sarony + + COLONEL HENRY MAPLESON 290 + From a photograph by Downey + + CLARA LOUISE KELLOGG AS AÏDA 292 + From a photograph by Mora + + FAUST BROOCH PRESENTED TO CLARA LOUISE + KELLOGG 298 + + CARL STRAKOSCH 364 + From a photograph by H. W. Barnett + + LETTER FROM EDWIN BOOTH TO CLARA LOUISE + KELLOGG 366 + + "ELPSTONE," NEW HARTFORD, CONNECTICUT 370 + + + + + +Memoirs of An American Prima Donna + + + + +CHAPTER I + +MY FIRST NOTES + + +I was born in Sumterville, South Carolina, and had a negro mammy to take +care of me, one of the real old-fashioned kind, of a type now almost +gone. She used to hold me in her arms and rock me back and forth, and as +she rocked she sang. I don't know the name of the song she crooned; but +I still know the melody, and have an impression that the words were: + + "Hey, Jim along,--Jim along Josy; + Hey, Jim along,--Jim along Joe!" + +She used to sing these two lines over and over, so that I slept and +waked to them. And my first musical efforts, when I was just ten months +old, were to try to sing this ditty in imitation of my negro mammy. + +When my mother first heard me she became apprehensive. Yet I kept at it; +and by the time I was a year old I could sing it so that it was quite +recognisable. I do not remember this period, of course, but my mother +often told me about it later, and I am sure she was not telling a fairy +story. + +There is, after all, nothing incredible or miraculous about the fact, +extraordinary as it certainly is. We are not surprised when the young +thrush practises a trill. And in some people the need for music and the +power to make it are just as instinctive as they are in the birds. What +effects I have achieved and what success I have found must be laid to +this big, living fact: music was in me, and it had to find expression. + +My music was honestly come by, from both sides of the house. When the +family moved north to New England and settled in Birmingham, +Connecticut,--it is called Derby now--my father and mother played in the +little town choir, he a flute and she the organ. They were both +thoroughly musical people, and always kept up with musical affairs, +making a great many sacrifices all their lives to hear good singers +whenever any sort of opportunity offered. As for my maternal +grandmother--she was a woman with a man's brain. A widow at +twenty-three, with no money and three children, she chose, of all ways +to support them, the business of cotton weaving; going about Connecticut +and Massachusetts, setting up looms--cotton gins they were called--and +being very successful. She was a good musician also, and, in later +years, after she had married my grandfather and was comfortably off, +people begged her to give lessons; so she taught _thorough-base_, in +that day and generation! Pause for a moment to consider what that meant, +in a time when the activity of women was very limited and unrecognised. +Is it any wonder that the granddaughter of a woman who could master and +teach the science of _thorough-base_ at such a period should be born +with music in her blood? + +[Illustration: =Lydia Atwood= + +Maternal Grandmother of Clara Louise Kellogg] + +My other grandmother, my father's mother, was musical, too. She had a +sweet voice, and was the soprano of the church choir. + +Everyone knew I was naturally musical from my constant attempts to sing, +and from my deep attention when anyone performed on any instrument, even +when I was so little that I could not reach the key-board of the piano +on tip-toe. That particular piano, I remember, was very +old-fashioned--one of the square box-shaped sort--and stood extremely +high. + +One day my grandmother said to my mother: + +"I do believe, Jane, if we lifted that baby up to the piano, she could +play!" + +Mother said: "Oh, pshaw!" + +But they did lift me up, and I did play. I played not only with my right +hand but also with my left hand; and I made harmonies. Probably they +were not in any way elaborate chords, but they _were_ chords, and they +harmonised. I have known some grown-up musicians whose chords didn't! + +I was three then, and a persistent baby, already detesting failure. I +never liked to try to do anything, even at that age, in which I might be +unsuccessful, and so learned to do what I wanted to do as soon as +possible. + +My mother was gifted in many ways. She used to paint charmingly; and has +told me that when she was a young girl and could not get paint brushes, +she made her own of hairs pulled from their old horse's tail. + +My maternal grandfather was not at all musical. He used to say that to +him the sweetest note on the piano was when the cover went down! Yet it +was he who accidentally discovered a fortunate possession of +mine--something that has remained in my keeping ever since, and, like +many fortunate gifts, has at times troubled as much as it has consoled +me. + +One day he was standing by the piano in one room and I was playing on +the floor in another. He idly struck a note and asked my mother: + +"What note is that I am striking? Guess!" + +"How can I tell?" said my mother. "No one could tell that." + +"Why, mother!" I cried from the next room, "don't you know what note +that is?" + +"I do not," said my mother, "and neither do you." + +"I do, too," I declared. "It's the first of the three black keys going +up!" + +It was, in fact, F sharp, and in this manner it was discovered that I +had what we musicians call "absolute pitch"; the ability to place and +name a note the moment it is heard. As I have said, this has often +proved to be a very trying gift, for it is, and always has been +impossible for me to decipher a song in a different key from that in +which it is written. If it is written in C, I hear it in C; and conceive +the hideous discord in my brain while the orchestra or the pianist +renders it in D flat! When I see a "Do," I want to sing it as a "Do," +and not as a "Re." + +This episode must have been when I was about five years old, and soon +afterward I began taking regular piano lessons. I remember my teacher +quite well. He used to come out from New Haven by the Naugatuck +railway--that had just been completed and was a great curiosity--for the +purpose of instructing a class of which I was a member. + +[Illustration: =Charles Atwood= + +Maternal Grandfather of Clara Louise Kellogg + +From a daguerreotype] + +I had the most absurd difficulty in learning my notes. I could play +anything by ear, but to read a piece of music and find the notes on +the piano was another matter. My teacher struggled with this odd +incapacity; but I used to cheat him shockingly. + +"_Do_ play this for me!" I would beg. "Just once, so I can tell how it +goes." + +In spite of this early slowness in music reading, or, perhaps because of +it, when I _did_ learn to read, I learned to read thoroughly. I could +really play; and I cannot over-estimate the help this has been to me all +my life. It is so essential--and so rare--for a _prima donna_ to be not +only a fine singer but also a good musician. + +There was then no idea of my becoming a singer. All my time was given to +the piano and to perfecting myself in playing it. But my parents made +every effort to have me hear fine singing, for the better cultivation of +my musical taste, and I am grateful to them for doing so, as I believe +that singing is largely imitative and that, while singers need not begin +to train their voices very early, they should as soon as possible +familiarise themselves with good singing and with good music generally. +The wise artist learns from many sources, some of them quite unexpected +ones. Patti once told me that she had caught the trick of her best +"turn" from listening to Faure, the baritone. + +My father and mother went to New York during the Jenny Lind _furore_ and +carried me in their arms to hear her big concert. I remember it clearly, +and just the way in which she tripped on to the stage that night with +her hair, as she always wore it, drawn down close over her ears--a +custom that gave rise to the popular report that she had no ears. + +That concert is my first musical recollection. I was much amused by the +baritone who sang _Figaro là Figaro quà_ from _The Barber_. I thought +him and his song immensely funny; and everyone around us was in a great +state over me because I insisted that the drum was out of tune. I was +really dreadfully annoyed by that drum, for it _was_ out of tune! I +remember Jenny Lind sang: + + "Birdling, why sing'st thou in the forest wild? + Say why,--say why,--say why!" + +and one part of it sounded exactly like the call of a bird. Sir Jules +Benedict, who was always her accompanist, once told me many years later +in London that she had a "hole" in her voice. He said that he had been +obliged to play her accompaniments in such a way as to cover up certain +notes in her middle register. A curious admission to come from him, I +thought, for few people knew of the "hole." + +Only once during my childhood did I sing in public, and that was in a +little school concert, a song _Come Buy My Flowers_, dressed up daintily +for the part and carrying a small basketful of posies of all kinds. When +I had finished singing, a man in the audience stepped down to the +footlights and held up a five-dollar bill. + +"To buy your flowers!" said he. + +That might be called my first professional performance! The local paper +said I had talent. As a matter of fact, I don't remember much about the +occasion; but I do remember only too well a dreadful incident that +occurred immediately afterward between me and the editor of the +aforesaid local paper,--Mr. Newson by name. + +I had a pet kitten, and it went to sleep in a rolled up rug beside the +kitchen door one day, and the cook stepped on it. The kitten was +killed, of course, and the affair nearly killed me. I was crying my eyes +out over my poor little pet when that editor chanced along. And he made +fun of me! + +I turned on him in the wildest fury. I really would have killed him if I +could. + +"Laugh, will you!" I shrieked, beside myself. "Laugh! laugh! laugh!" + +He said afterwards that I absolutely frightened him, I was so small and +so tragic. + +"I knew then," he declared, "that that child had great emotional and +dramatic possibilities in her. Why, she nearly burned me up!" + +Years later, when I was singing in St. Paul, the _Dispatch_ printed this +story in an interview with Mr. Newson himself. He made a heartless jest +of the alliteration--"Kellogg's Kitten Killed"--and referred to my +"inexpressible expression of sorrow and disgust" as I cried, "Laugh, +will you!" Said Mr. Newson in summing up: + +"It was a real tragedic act!" + +Mr. Newson's description of me as a child is: "A black-eyed little girl, +somewhat wayward--as she was an only child--kind-hearted, affectionate, +self-reliant, and very independent!" + +Well--sight-reading became so easy to me, presently, that I could not +realise any difficulty about it. To see a note was to be able to sing +it; and I was often puzzled when people expressed surprise at my +ability. When I was about eleven, someone took me to Hartford to "show +me off" to William Babcock, a teacher and a thorough musician. He got +out some of his most difficult German songs; songs far more intricate +than anything I had ever before seen, of course, and was frankly amazed +to find that I read them just about as readily as the simple airs to +which I was accustomed. + +My childhood was very quiet and peaceful, rather commonplace in fact, +except for music. Reading was a pleasure, too, and, as my father was a +student and had a wonderful library, I had all the books I wanted. I was +literally brought up on Carlyle and Chaucer. I must have been a rather +queer child, in some ways. Even as a little thing I liked clothes. When +only nine years old I conceived a wild desire for a pair of kid gloves. +Kid gloves were a sign of great elegance in those days. At last my +clamours were successful and I was given a pair at Christmas. They were +a source of great pride, and I wore them to church, where I did my +little singing in the choir with the others. By this time I could read +any music at sight and would sit up and chirp and peep away quite +happily. As I spread my kid-gloved hands out most conspicuously, what I +had not noticed became very noticeable to everyone else: the fingers +were nearly two inches too long. And the choir laughed at me. I was +dreadfully mortified and sat there crying, until the kind contralto +comforted me. + +In my young days the negro minstrels were a great diversion. They were +amusing because they were so typical. There are none left, but in the +old times they were delightful, and it is a thousand pities that they +have passed away. All the essence of slavery, and the efforts of the +slaves to amuse themselves, were in their quaint performances. The banjo +was almost unknown to us in the North, and when it found its way to New +England it was a genuine novelty. I was simply fascinated by it as a +little girl and used to go to all the minstrel shows, and sit and watch +the men play. Their banjos had five strings only and were played with +the back of the nail,--not like a guitar. This was the only way to get +the real negro twang. There was no refinement about such playing, but I +loved it. I said: + +"I believe I could play that if I had one!" + +My father, the dignified scholar, was horrified. + +"When a banjo comes in, I go out," said he. + +At last a friend gave me one, and I watched and studied the darkies +until I had picked up the trick of playing it, and soon acquired a real +negro touch. And I also acquired some genuine darky songs. One, of which +I was particularly fond, was called: _Hottes' co'n y' ever eat_. + +I really believe I was the first American girl who ever played a banjo! +In a few years along came Lotta, and made the banjo a great feature. + +Banjo music has natural syncopation, and its peculiarities undoubtedly +originated the "rag-time" of our present-day imitations. There was one +song that I learned from hearing a man sing it who had, in turn, caught +it from a darky, that has never to my knowledge been published and is +not to be found in any collection. + +It began: + +[Illustration: Musical notation; It'll set this dar-key cra-zy. I don't +know what I'll do,] + +and remains with me in my _répertoire_ unto this day. I have been known +to sing it with certain effect--for when I am asked, now, to sing it, my +husband leaves the room! The last time I sang it was only a couple of +years ago in Norfolk. Herbert Witherspoon said: + +"Listen to that high C!" + +"Ah," said I, "that is the last remnant--the very last!" + +But this chapter is to be about my first notes, not my last ones. + +In 1857, my father failed, the beautiful books were sold and we went to +New York to live. Almost directly afterward occurred one of the most +important events of my career. Although I was not being trained for a +singer, but as a musician in general, I could no more help singing than +I could held breathing, or sleeping, or eating; and, one day, Colonel +Henry G. Stebbins, a well-known musical amateur, one of the directors of +the Academy of Music, was calling on my father and heard me singing to +myself in an adjoining room. Then and there he asked to be allowed to +have my voice cultivated; and so, when I was fourteen, I began to study +singing. The succeeding four years were the hardest worked years of my +life. + +To young girls who are contemplating vocal study, I always say that it +is mostly a question of what one is willing to give up. + +If you really are prepared to sacrifice all the fun that your youth is +entitled to; to work, and to deny yourself; to eat and sleep, not +because you are hungry or sleepy, but because your strength must be +conserved for your art; to make your music the whole interest of your +existence;--if you are willing to do all this, you may have your reward. + +But music will have no half service. It has to be all or nothing. + +In Rostand's play, they ask Chanticleer: + +"What is your life?" + +And he answers: + +"My song." + +"What is your song?" + +"My life." + +[Illustration: =George Kellogg= + +Father of Clara Louise Kellogg + +Photograph by Gurney & Son] + + + + +CHAPTER II + +GIRLHOOD + + +In taking up vocal study, however, I had no fixed intention of going on +the stage. All I decided was to make as much as I could of myself and of +my voice. Many girls I knew studied singing merely as an accomplishment. +In fact, the girl who aspired professionally was almost unknown. + +I first studied under a Frenchman named Millet, a graduate of the +Conservatory of Paris, who was teaching the daughters of Colonel +Stebbins and, also, the daughter of the Baron de Trobriand. Later, I +worked with Manzocchi, Rivarde, Errani and Muzio, who was a great friend +of Verdi. + +Most of my fellow-students were charming society girls. Ella Porter and +President Arthur's wife were with me under Rivarde, and Anna Palmer who +married the scientist, Dr. Draper. The idea of my going on the stage +would have appalled the families of these girls. In those days the life +of the theatre was regarded as altogether outside the pale. One didn't +know stage people; one couldn't speak to them, nor shake hands with +them, nor even look at them except from a safe distance across the +footlights. There were no "decent people on the stage"; how often did I +hear that foolish thing said! + +It is odd that in that most musical and artistic country, Italy, much +the same prejudice exists to this day. I should never think of telling a +really great Italian lady that I had been on the stage; she would +immediately think that there was something queer about me. Of course in +America all that was changed some time ago, after England had +established the precedent. People are now pleased not only to meet +artists socially, but to lionise them as well. But when I was a girl +there was a gulf as deep as the Bottomless Pit between society and +people of the theatre; and it was this gulf that I knew would open +between myself and the friends of whom I was really fond as, in time, I +realised that I was improving sufficiently to justify some definite +ambitions. My work was steady and unremitting, and by the time I began +study with Muzio my mind was pretty nearly made up. + +A queer, nervous, brusque, red-headed man was Muzio, from the north of +Italy, where the type always seems so curiously German. Besides being +one of the conductors of the Opera, he organised concert tours, and +promised to see that I should have my chance. It was said that he had +fled from political disturbances in Italy, but this I never heard +verified. Certainly he was quite a big man in the New York operatic +world of his day, and was a most cultivated musician, with the "Italian +traditions" of opera at his fingers' ends. It is to Muzio, incidentally, +that I owe my trill. + +[Illustration: =Clara Louise Kellogg. Aged Three= + +From a photograph by Black & Case] + +Oddly enough, I had great difficulty with that trill for three years; +but in four weeks' study he taught me the trick,--for it is a trick, +like so many other big effects. I believe I got it finally by using my +sub-conscious mind. Don't you know how, after striving and straining +for something, you at last relax and let some inner part of your brain +carry on the battle? And how, often and often, it is then that victory +comes? So it was with my trill; and so it has been with many difficult +things that I have succeeded in since then. + +No account of my education would be complete without a mention of the +great singers whom I heard during that receptive period; that is, the +years between fourteen and eighteen, before my professional _début_. The +first artist I heard when I was old enough really to appreciate good +singing was Louisa Pine, who sang in New York in second-rate English +Opera with Harrison, of whom she was deeply enamoured and who usually +sang out of tune. We did not then fully understand how well-schooled and +well-trained she was; and her really fine qualities were only revealed +to me much later in a concert. + +Then there was D'Angri, a contralto who sang Rossini to perfection. +_Italiani in Algeria_ was produced especially for her. About that same +time Mme. de la Grange was appearing, together with Mme. de la Borde, a +light and colorature soprano, something very new in America. Mme. de la +Borde sang the Queen to Mme. de la Grange's Valentine in _Les +Huguenots_, and had a French voice--if I may so express it--light, and +of a strange quality. The French claimed that she sang a scale of +_commas_, that is, a note between each of our chromatic intervals. She +may have; but it merely sounded to the listener as if she wasn't singing +the scale clearly. Mme. de la Grange was a sort of goddess to me, I +remember. I heard her first in _Trovatore_ with Brignoli and Amodio. + +Piccolomini arrived here a couple of years later and I heard her, too. +She was of a distinguished Italian family, and, considering Italy's +aristocratic prejudices, it is strange that she should have been an +opera singer. She made _Traviata_, in which she had already captured the +British public, first known to us: yet she was an indifferent singer and +had a very limited _répertoire_. She received her adulation partly +because people didn't know much then about music. Adulation it was, too. +She made $5000 a month, and America had never before imagined such an +operatic salary. She looked a little like Lucca; was small and dark, and +decidedly clever in comedy. I was fortunate enough to see her in +Pergolese's delightful, if archaic, opera, _La Serva Padrona_--"The Maid +as Mistress"--and she proved herself to be an exceptional _comédienne_. +She was excellent in tragedy, too. + +Brignoli was the first great tenor I ever heard; and Amodio the first +famous baritone. Brignoli--but all the world knows what Brignoli was! As +for Amodio; he had a great and beautiful voice; but, poor man, what a +disadvantage he suffered under in his appearance. He was so fat that he +was grotesque, he was absurdly short, and had absolutely no saving grace +as to physique. He played Mazetto to Piccolomini's Zerlina, and the +whole house roared when they came on dancing. + +I heard nearly all the great singers of my youth; all that were to be +heard in New York, at any rate, except Grisi. I missed Grisi, I am sorry +to say, because on the one occasion when I was asked to hear her sing, +with Mario, I chose to go to a children's party instead. I am much +ashamed of this levity, although I was, to be sure, only ten years old +at the time. + +[Illustration: =Clara Louise Kellogg. Aged Seven= + +Photograph by Black & Case] + +Adelina Patti I heard the year before my own _début_. She was a slip of +a girl then, when she appeared over here in _Lucia_, and carried the +town by storm. What a voice! I had never dreamed of anything like it. +But, for that matter, neither had anyone else. + +What histrionic skill I ever developed I attribute to the splendid +acting that I saw so constantly during my girlhood. And what actors and +actresses we had! As I look back, I wonder if we half appreciated them. +It is certainly true that, viewed comparatively, we must cry "there were +giants in those days!" Think of Mrs. John Wood and Jefferson at the +Winter Garden; of Dion Boucicault and his wife, Agnes Robertson; of +Laura Keene--a revelation to us all--and of the French Theatre, which +was but a little hole in the wall, but the home of some exquisite art (I +was brought up on the Raouls in French pantomime); and all the wonderful +old Wallack Stock Company! Think of the elder Sothern, and of John +Brougham, and of Charles Walcot, and of Mrs. John Hoey, Mrs. Vernon, and +Mary Gannon,--that most beautiful and perfect of all _ingénues_! Those +people would be world-famous stars if they were playing to-day; we have +no actors or companies like them left. Not even the Comédie Française +ever had such a gathering. + +It may be imagined what an education it was for a young girl with stage +aspirations to see such work week after week. For I was taken to see +everyone in everything, and some of the impressions I received then were +permanent. For instance, Matilda Heron in _Camille_ gave me a picture of +poor Marguerite Gautier so deep and so vivid that I found it invaluable, +years later, when I myself came to play Violetta in _Traviata_. + +I saw both Ristori and Rachel too. The latter I heard recite on her last +appearance in America. It was the _Marseillaise_, and deeply impressive. +Personally, I loved best her _Moineau de Lesbie_. Shall I ever forget +her enchanting reading of the little scene with the jewels?--_Suis-je +belle?_ + +The father of one of my fellow students was, as I have said before, +Baron de Trobriand, a very charming man of the old French aristocracy. +He came often to the home of Colonel Stebbins and always showed a great +deal of interest in my development. He knew Rachel very well; had known +her ever since her girlhood indeed, and always declared that I was the +image of her. As I look at my early portraits, I can see it myself a +little. In all of them I have a desperately serious expression as though +life were a tragedy. How well I remember the Baron and his wonderful +stories of France! He had some illustrious kindred, among them the +Duchesse de Berri, and we were never tired of his tales concerning her. + +I find, to-day, as I look through some of my old press notices, that +nice things were always said of me as an actress. Once, John Wallack, +Lester's father, came to hear me in _Fra Diavolo_, and exclaimed: + +"I wish to God that girl would lose her voice!" + +He wanted me to give up singing and go on the dramatic stage; and so did +Edwin Booth. I have a letter from Edwin Booth that I am more proud of +than almost anything I possess. But these incidents happened, of course, +later. + +From all I saw and all I heard I tried to learn and to keep on learning. +And so I prepared for the time of my own initial bow before the public. +As I gradually studied and developed, I began to feel more and more +sure that I was destined to be a singer. I felt that it was my life and +my heritage; that I was made for it, and that nothing else could ever +satisfy me. And Muzio told me that I was right. In another six months I +would be ready to make my _début_. It was a serious time, when I faced +the future as a public singer, but I was very happy in the contemplation +of it. + +That summer I took a rest, preparatory to my first season,--how +thrillingly professional that sounded, to be sure!--and it was during +that summer that I had one of the most pleasant experiences of my +girlhood,--one really delightful and _young_ experience, such as other +girls have,--a wonderful change from the hard-working, serious months of +study. I went to West Point for a visit. In spite of my sober +bringing-up, I was full of the joy of life, and loved the days spent in +a place filled with the military glamour that every girl adores. + +West Point was more primitive then than it is now. But it was just as +much fun. I danced, and watched the drill, and walked about, and made +friends with the cadets,--to whom the fact that they were entertaining a +budding _prima donna_ was both exciting and interesting--and had about +the best time I ever had in my life. + +Looking back now, however, I can feel a shadow of sadness lying over the +memory of all that happy visit. We were just on the eve of war, little +as we young people thought of it, and many of the merry, good-looking +boys I danced with that summer fell at the front within the year. Some +of them entered the Union Army the following spring when war was +declared, and some went South to serve under the Stars and Bars. Among +the former was Alec McCook--"Fighting McCook," as he was called. +Lieutenant McCreary was Southern, and was killed early in the war. So, +also, was the son of General Huger--the General Huger who was then +Postmaster General and later became a member of the Cabinet of the +Confederacy. + +It is interesting to consider that West Point, at the time of which I +write, was a veritable hotbed of conspiracy. The Southerners were +preparing hard and fast for action; the atmosphere teemed with plotting, +so that even I was vaguely conscious that something exceedingly serious +was going on. The Commandant of the Post, General Delafield, was an +officer of strong Southern sympathies and later went to fight in Dixie +land. When the war did finally break out, nearly all the ammunition was +down South; and this had been managed from West Point. + +Of course, all was done with great circumspection. Buchanan was a +Democratic president; and the Democrats of the South sent a delegation +to West Point to try to get the commanding officers to use their +influence in reducing the military course from four to three years. This +at least was their ostensible mission, and it made an excellent excuse +as well as offered great opportunities for what we Federal sympathisers +would call treason, but which they probably considered was justified by +patriotism. Indeed, James Buchanan was allotted a very difficult part in +the political affairs of the day; and the censure he received for what +is called his "vacillation" was somewhat unjust. He held that the +question of slavery and its abolition was not a national, but a local +problem; and he never took any firm stand about it. But the conditions +were bewilderingly new and complex, and statesmen often suffer from +their very ability to look on both sides of a question. + +Jefferson Davis was then at West Point; and, as for "Mrs. Jeff"--I +always believed she was a spy. She had her niece and son with her at the +Point, the latter, "Jeff, Jr.," then a child of five or six years old. +He had the worst temper I ever imagined in a boy; and I am ashamed to +relate that the officers took a wicked delight in arousing and +exhibiting it. He used to sit several steps up on the one narrow +stairway of the hotel and swear the most horrible, hot oaths ever heard, +getting red in the face with fury. Alec McCook, assistant instructor and +a charming fellow of about thirty, would put him on a bucking donkey +that was there and say: + +"Now then, lad, don't you let him put you off!" + +And the "lad" would sit on the donkey, turning the air blue with +profanity. But one thing can be said for him: he did stick on! + +Lieutenant Horace Porter, who was among my friends of that early summer, +was destined to serve with distinction on the Northern side. I met him +not long ago, a dignified, distinguished General; and it was difficult +to see in him the high-spirited, young lieutenant of the old Point days. + +"Do you know," he said, "Mrs. Jeff Davis sent for me to come and see her +when she was in New York! _Of course_ I didn't go!" + +He had not forgotten. One does not forget the things that happened just +before the war. The great struggle burned them too deeply into our +memories. + +Nothing would satisfy the cadets, who were aware that I was preparing to +go on the stage as a professional singer, but that I should sing for +them. I was only too delighted to do so, but I didn't want to sing in +the hotel. So they turned their "hop-room" into a concert-hall for the +occasion and invited the officers and their friends, in spite of Mrs. +Jeff Davis, who tried her best to prevent the ball-room from being given +to us for our musicale. She did not attend; but the affair made her +exceedingly uncomfortable, for she disliked me and was jealous of the +kindness and attention I received from everyone. She always referred to +me as "that singing girl!" + +As I have said, many of those attractive West Point boys and officers +were killed in the war so soon to break upon us. Others, like General +Porter, have remained my friends. A few I have kept in touch with only +by hearsay. But throughout the Civil War I always felt a keener and more +personal interest in the battles because, for a brief space, I had come +so close to the men who were engaged in them; and the sentiment never +passed. + +Ever and ever so many years after that visit to West Point, a note came +behind the scenes to me during one of my performances, and with it was a +mass of exquisite flowers. "Please wear one of these flowers to-night!" +the note begged me. It was from one of the cadets to whom I had sung so +long before, but whom I had never seen since. + +I wore the flower: and I put my whole soul into my singing that night. +For that little episode of my girlhood, the meeting with those eager and +plucky young spirits just before our great national crisis, has always +been close to my heart. As for the three dark years that followed--ah, +well,--I never want to read about the war now. + +[Illustration: =Clara Louise Kellogg as a Girl= + +From a photograph by Sarony] + +It was almost time for my _début_, and there was still something I had +to do. To my sheltered, puritanically brought up consciousness, there +could be no two views among conventional people as to the life I was +about to enter upon. I knew all about it. So, a few weeks before I was +to make my professional bow to the public, I called my girl friends +together, the companions of four years' study, and I said to them: + +"Girls, I've made up my mind to go on the stage! I know just how your +people feel about it, and I want to tell you now that you needn't know +me any more. You needn't speak to me, nor bow to me if you meet me in +the street. I shall quite understand, and I shan't feel a bit badly. +_Because I think the day will come when you will be proud to know me!_" + + + + +CHAPTER III + +"LIKE A PICKED CHICKEN" + + +Before my _début_ in opera, Muzio took me out on a concert tour for a +few weeks. Colson was the _prima donna_, Brignoli the tenor, Ferri the +baritone, and Susini the basso. Susini had, I believe, distinguished +himself in the Italian Revolution. His name means _plums_ in Italian, +and his voice as well as his name was rich and luscious. + +I was a general utility member of the company, and sang to fill in the +chinks. We sang four times a week, and I received twenty-five dollars +each time--that is, one hundred dollars a week--not bad for +inexperienced seventeen, although Muzio regarded the tour for me as +merely educational and part of my training. + +My mother travelled with me, for she never let me out of her sight. Yet, +even with her along, the experience was very strange and new and rather +terrifying. I had no knowledge of stage life, and that first _tournée_ +was comprised of a series of shocks and surprises, most of them +disillusioning. + +We opened in Pittsburg, and it was there, at the old Monongahela House, +that I had my first exhibition of Italian temperament, or, rather, +temper! + +When we arrived, we found that the dining-room was officially closed. We +were tired out after a long hard trip of twenty-four hours, and, of +course, almost starved. We got as far as the door, where we could look +in hungrily, but it was empty and dark. There were no waiters; there was +nothing, indeed, except the rows of neatly set tables for the next meal. + +Brignoli demanded food. He was very fond of eating, I recall. And, in +those days, he was a sort of little god in New York, where he lived in +much luxury. When affairs went well with him, he was not an unamiable +man; but he was a selfish egotist, with the devil's own temper on +occasion. + +The landlord approached and told us that the dinner hour was past, and +that we could not get anything to eat until the next meal, which would +be supper. And oh! if you only knew what supper was like in the +provincial hotel of that day! + +Brignoli was wild with wrath. He would start to storm and shout in his +rage, and would then suddenly remember his voice and subside, only to +begin again as his anger rose in spite of himself. It was really +amusing, though I doubt if anyone appreciated the joke at the moment. + +At last, as the landlord remained quite unmoved, Brignoli dashed into +the room, grabbed the cloth on one of the tables near the door and +pulled it off--dishes, silver, and all! The crash was terrific, and +naturally the china was smashed to bits. + +"You'll have to pay for that!" cried the landlord, indignantly. + +"Pay for it!" gasped Brignoli, waving his arms and fairly dancing with +rage, "of course I'll pay for it--just as I'll pay for the dinner, +if----" + +"What!" exclaimed the landlord, in a new tone, "you will pay _extra_ for +the dinner, if we are willing to serve it for you now?" + +"_Dio mio_, yes!" cried Brignoli. + +The landlord stood and gaped at him. + +"Why didn't you say so in the first place?" he asked with a sort of +contemptuous pity, and went off to order the dinner. + +When will the American and the Italian temperaments begin to understand +each other! + +Brignoli was not only a fine singer but a really good musician. He told +me that he had given piano lessons in Paris before he began to sing at +all. But of his absolute origin he would never speak. He was a handsome +man, with ears that had been pierced for ear-rings. This led me to infer +that he had at some time been a sailor, although he would never let +anyone mention the subject. Anyhow, I always thought of Naples when I +looked at him. + +Most stage people have their pet superstitions. There seems to be +something in their make-up that lends itself to an interest in signs. +But Brignoli had a greater number of singular ones than any person I +ever met. He had, among other things, a mascot that he carried all over +the country. This was a stuffed deer's head, and it was always installed +in his dressing-room wherever he might be singing. When he sang well, he +would come back to the room and pat the deer's head approvingly. When he +was not in voice, he would pound it and swear at it in Italian. + +Brignoli lived for his voice. He adored it as if it were some phenomenon +for which he was in no sense responsible. And I am not at all sure that +this is not the right point of view for a singer. He always took +tremendous pains with his voice and the greatest possible care of +himself in every way, always eating huge quantities of raw oysters each +night before he sang. The story is told of him that one day he fell off +a train. People rushed to pick him up, solicitous lest the great tenor's +bones were broken. But Brignoli had only one fear. Without waiting even +to rise to his feet, he sat up, on the ground where he had fallen, and +solemnly sang a bar or two. Finding his voice uninjured, he burst into +heartfelt prayers of thanks-giving, and climbed back into the car. + +Brignoli only just missed being very great. But he had the indolence of +the Neapolitan sailor, and he was, of course, sadly spoiled. Women were +always crazy about him, and he posed as an _élégante_. Years afterward, +when I heard of his death, I never felt the loss of any beautiful thing +as I did the loss of his voice. The thought came to me:--"and he hasn't +been able to leave it to anyone as a legacy--" + +But to return to our concert tour. + +I remember that the concert room in Pittsburg was over the town market. +That was what we had to contend with in those primitive days! Imagine +our little company of devoted and ambitious artists trying to create a +musical atmosphere one flight up, while they sold cabbages and fish +downstairs! + +The first evening was an important event for me, my initial public +appearance, and I recall quite distinctly that I sang the Cavatina from +_Linda di Chamounix_--which I was soon to sing operatically--and that I +wore a green dress. Green was an unusual colour in gowns then. Our young +singers generally chose white or blue or pink or something insipid; but +I had a very definite taste in clothes, and liked effects that were not +only pretty but also individual and becoming. + +Speaking of clothes, I learned on that first experimental tour the +horrors of travel when it comes to keeping one's gowns fresh. I speedily +acquired the habit, practised ever since, of carrying a big crash cloth +about with me to spread on stages where I was to sing. This was not +entirely to keep my clothes clean, important as that was. It was also +for the sake of my voice and its effect. Few people know that the +floor-covering on which a singer stands makes a very great difference. +On carpets, for instance, one simply cannot get a good tone. + +Just before I went on for that first concert, Madame Colson stopped me +to put a rose in my hair, and said to me: + +"Smile much, and show your teeth!" + +After the concert she supplemented this counsel with the words: + +"Always dress your best, and always smile, and always be gracious!" + +I never forgot the advice. + +The idea of pretty clothes and a pretty smile is not merely a pose nor +an artificiality. It is likewise carrying out a spirit of courtesy. Just +as a hostess greets a guest cordially and tries to make her feel at +ease, so the tactful singer tries to show the people who have come to +hear her that she is glad to see them. + +Pauline Colson was a charming artist, a French soprano of distinction in +her own country and always delightful in her work. She had first come to +America to sing in the French Opera in New Orleans where, for many +years, there had been a splendid opera season each winter. She had just +finished her winter's work there when some northern impresario engaged +her for a brief season of opera in New York; and it was at the +termination of this that Muzio engaged her for our concert tour. She +was one of the few artists who rebelled against the bad costuming then +prevalent; and it was said that for more than one of her _rôles_ she +made her gowns herself, to be sure that they were correct. It was her +example that fired me in the revolutionary steps I was to take later +with regard to my own costumes. + +Our next stop was Cincinnati--_Cincinnata_, as it was called! I had +there one of the shocks of my life. The leading newspaper of the city, +in commenting on our concert, said of me that "this young girl's parents +ought to remove her from public view, do her up in cotton wool, nourish +her well, and not allow her to appear again until she looks less like a +picked chicken"! + +No one said anything about my voice! Indeed, I got almost no +encouragement before we reached Detroit, and I recall that I cried a +good part of the way between the two cities over my failure in +Cincinnati. But in Detroit Colson was taken ill, so I had a chance to do +the _prima donna_ work of the occasion. And I profited by the chance, +for it was in Detroit that an audience first discovered that I had some +nascent ability. + +I _must_ have been an odd, young creature--just five feet and four +inches tall, and weighing only one hundred and four pounds. I was frail +and big-eyed, and wrapped up in music (not cotton wool), and exceedingly +childlike for my age. I knew nothing of life, for my puritanical +surroundings and the way in which I had been brought up were developing +my personality very slowly. + +That was a hard tour. Indeed, all tours were hard in those days. +Travelling accommodations were limited and uncomfortable, and most of +the hotels were very bad. Trains were slow, and connections uncertain, +and of course there was no such thing as a Pullman or, much less, a +dining-car. Sometimes we had to sit up all night and were not able to +get anything to eat, not infrequently arriving too late for the meal +hour of the hotel where we were to stop. The journeys were so long and +so difficult that they used to say Pauline Lucca always travelled in her +nightgown and a black velvet wrapper. + +All through that tour, as during every period of my life, I was working +and studying and practising and learning: trying to improve my voice, +trying to develop my artistic consciousness, trying to fit myself in a +hundred ways for my career. Work never frightened me; there was always +in me the desire to express myself--and to express that self as fully +and as variously as I might have opportunity for doing. + +It sometimes seems to me that one of the strangest things in this world +is the realisation that there is never time to perfect everything in us; +that we carry seeds in our souls that cannot flower in one short life. +Perhaps Paradise will be a place where we can develop every possibility +and become our complete selves. + +In one's brain and one's soul lies the power to do almost anything. I +believe that the psychological phenomena we hear so much about are +nothing but undiscovered forces in ourselves. I am not a spiritualist. I +do not care for so-called supernatural manifestations. Many of my +friends have been interested in such matters, and I was taken to the +celebrated "Stratford Knockings" and other mediumistic demonstrations +when I was a mere child; but it has never seemed to me that the marvels +I encountered came from an outside spiritual agency. I believe, +profoundly, that, one and all, they are the workings of forces in _us_ +that we have not yet learned to develop fully nor to use wisely. + +[Illustration: =Clara Louise Kellogg as a Young Lady= + +From a photograph by Black & Case] + +I never did anything in my life without study. The ancient axiom that +"what is worth doing at all is worth doing well" is more of a truth than +most people understand. The thing that one has chosen for one's life +work in the world:--what labour could be too great for it, or what too +minute? + +When I knew that I was to make my _début_ as Gilda, in Verdi's opera of +_Rigoletto_, I settled down to put myself into that part. I studied for +nine months, until I was not certain whether I was really Gilda--or only +myself! + +I was taking lessons in acting with Scola then, in addition to my +musical study. And, besides Scola's regular course, I closely observed +the methods of individuals, actors, and singers. I remember seeing +Brignoli in _I Puritani_, during that "incubating period" before my +first appearance in opera. I was studying gesture then,--the free, +simple, _inevitable_ gesture that is so necessary to a natural effect in +dramatic singing; and during the beautiful melody, _A te, o cara_, which +he sang in the first act, Brignoli stood still in one spot and thrust +first one arm out, and then the other, at right angles from his body, +twenty-three consecutive times. I counted them, and I don't know how +many times he had done it before I began to count! + +"Heavens!" I said, "that's one thing not to do, anyway!" + +Languages were a very important part of my training. I had studied +French when I was nine years old, in the country, and as soon as I began +taking singing lessons I began Italian also. Much later, when I sang in +_Les Noces de Jeannette_, people would speak of my French and ask where +I had studied. But it was all learned at home. + +I never studied German. There was less demand for it in music than there +is now. America practically had no "German opera;" and Italian was the +accepted tongue of dramatic and tragic music, as French was the language +of lighter and more popular operas. Besides, German always confused me; +and I never liked it. + +Many years later than the time of which I am now writing, I was charmed +to be confirmed in my anti-German prejudices when I went to Paris. After +the Franco-Prussian War the signs and warnings in that city were put up +in every language in the world except German! The German way of putting +things was too long; and, furthermore, the French people didn't care if +Germans did break their legs or get run over. + +Of course, all this is changed--and in music most of all. For example, +there could be no greater convert to Wagnerism than I! + +My mother hated the atmosphere of the theatre even though she had wished +me to become a singer, and always gloried in my successes. To her rigid +and delicate instinct there was something dreadful in the free and easy +artistic attitude, and she always stood between me and any possible +intimacy with my fellow-singers. I believe this to have been a mistake. +Many traditions of the stage come to one naturally and easily through +others; but I had to wait and learn them all by experience. I was always +working as an outsider, and, naturally, this attitude of ours +antagonised singers with whom we appeared. + +Not only that. My brain would have developed much more rapidly if I had +been allowed--no, if I had been _obliged_ to be more self-reliant. To +profit by one's own mistakes;--all the world's history goes to show that +is the only way to learn. By protecting me, my mother really robbed me +of much precious experience. For how many years after I had made my +_début_ would she wait for me in the _coulisses_, ready to whisk me off +to my dressing-room before any horrible opera singer had a chance to +talk with me! + +Yet she grieved for my forfeited youth--did my dear mother. She always +felt that I was being sacrificed to my work, and just at the time when I +would have most delighted in my girlhood. Of course, I was obliged to +live a life of labour and self-denial, but it was not quite so difficult +for me as she felt it to be, or as other people sometimes thought it +was. Not only did I adore my music, and look forward to my work as an +artist, but I literally never had any other life. I knew nothing of what +I had given up; and so was happy in what I had undertaken, as no girl +could have been happy who had lived a less restricted, hard-working and +yet dream-filled existence. + +My mother was very strait-laced and puritanical, as I have said, and, +naturally, by reflection and association, I was the same. I lay stress +on this because I want one little act of mine to be appreciated as a +sign of my ineradicable girlishness and love of beauty. When I earned my +first money, I went to Mme. Percival's, the smart lingerie shop of New +York, and bought the three most exquisite chemises I could find, +imported and trimmed with real lace! + +I daresay this harmless ebullition of youthful daintiness would have +proved the last straw to some of my Psalm-singing New England relatives. +There was one uncle of mine who vastly disapproved of my going on the +stage at all, saying that it would have been much better if I had been a +good, honest milliner. He used to sing: + +[Illustration: Musical notation; "Broad is the road That leads to +Hell!"] + +in a minor key, with the true, God-fearing, nasal twang in it. + +How I detested that old man! And I had to bury him, too, at the last. I +wonder whether I should have been able to do so if I had gone into the +millinery business! + + + + +CHAPTER IV + +A YOUTHFUL REALIST + + +As I have said, I studied Gilda for nine months. At the end of that time +I was so imbued with the part as to be thoroughly at ease. Present-day +actors call this condition "getting inside the skin" of a _rôle_. I +simply could not make a mistake, and could do everything connected with +the characterisation with entire unconsciousness. Yet I want to add that +I had little idea of what the opera really meant. + +My _début_ was in New York at the old Academy of Music, and Rigoletto +was the famous Ferri. He was blind in one eye and I had always to be on +his seeing side,--else he couldn't act. Stigelli was the tenor. Stiegel +was his real name. He was a German and a really fine artist. But I had +then had no experience with stage heroes and thought they were all going +to be exactly as they appeared in my romantic dreams, and--poor man, he +is dead now, so I can say this!--it was a dreadful blow to me to be +obliged to sing a love duet with a man smelling of lager beer and +cheese! + +Charlotte Cushman--who was a great friend of Miss Emma Stebbins, the +sister of Colonel Stebbins--had always been interested in me; so when +she knew that I was to make my _début_ on February 26 (1861), she put +on _Meg Merrilies_ for that night because she could get through with it +early enough for her to see part of my first performance. She reached +the Academy in time for the last act of _Rigoletto_; and I felt that I +had been highly praised when, as I came out and began to sing, she +cried: + +"The girl doesn't seem to know that she has any arms!" + +My freedom of gesture and action came from nothing but the most complete +familiarity with the part and with the detail of everything I had to do. +In opera one cannot be too temperamental in one's acting. One cannot +make pauses when one thinks it effective, nor alter the stage business +to fit one's mood, nor work oneself up to an emotional crescendo one +night and not do it the next. Everything has to be timed to a second and +a fraction of a second. One cannot wait for unusual effects. The +orchestra does not consider one's temperament, and this fact cannot be +lost sight of for a moment. This is why I believe in rehearsing and +studying and working over a _rôle_ so exhaustively--and exhaustingly. +For it is only in that most rigidly studied accuracy of action that any +freedom can be attained. When one becomes so trained that one cannot +conceivably retard a bar, and cannot undertime a stage cross nor fail to +come in promptly in an _ensemble_, then, and only then, can one reach +some emotional liberty and inspiration. + +If I had not worked so hard at Gilda I should never have got through +that first performance. I was not consciously nervous, but my throat--it +is quite impossible to tell in words how my throat felt. I have heard +singers describe the first-night sensation variously,--a tongue that +felt stiff, a palate like a hot griddle, and so on. My throat and my +tongue were dry and thick and woolly, like an Oriental rug with a "pile" +so deep and heavy that, if water is spilled on it, the water does not +soak in, but lies about the surface in globules,--just a dry and +unabsorbing carpet. + +My mother was with me behind the scenes; and my grandmother was in front +to see me in all my stage grandeur. I am afraid I did not care +particularly where either of them were. Certainly I had no thought for +anyone who might be seated out in the Great Beyond on the far side of +the footlights. I sang the second act in a dream, unconscious of any +audience:--hardly conscious of the music or of myself--going through it +all mechanically. But the sub-conscious mind had been at work all the +time. As I was changing my costume after the second act, my mother said +to me: + +"I cannot find your grandmother anywhere. I have been looking and +peeping through the hole in the curtain and from the wings, but I cannot +seem to discover where she is sitting." + +Hardly thinking of the words, I answered at once: + +"She is over there to the left, about three rows back, near a pillar." + +The criticisms of the press next day said that my most marked specialty +was my ability to strike a tone with energy. I liked better, however, +one kindly reviewer who observed that my voice was "cordial to the +heart!" The newspapers found my stage appearance peculiar. There was +about it "a marked development of the intellectual at the expense of the +physical to which her New England birth may afford a key." The man who +wrote this was quite correct. He had discovered the Puritan maid behind +the stage trappings of Gilda. + +If omens count for anything I ought to have had a disastrous first +season, for everything went wrong during that opening week. I lost a +bracelet of which I was particularly fond; I fell over a stick in making +an entrance and nearly went on my head; and at the end of the third act +of the second performance of _Rigoletto_ the curtain failed to come +down, and I was obliged to stay in a crouching attitude until it could +be put into working order again. But these trying experiences were not +auguries of failure or of disaster. In fact my public grew steadily +kinder to me, although it hung back a little until after Marguerite. +Audiences were not very cordial to new singers. They distrusted their +own judgment; and I don't altogether wonder that they did. + +The week after my _début_ we went to Boston to sing. Boston would not +have _Rigoletto_. It was considered objectionable, particularly the +ending. For some inexplicable reason _Linda di Chamounix_ was expected +to be more acceptable to the Bostonian public, and so I was to sing the +part of Linda instead of that of Gilda. I had been working on Linda +during a part of the year in which I studied Gilda, and was quite equal +to it. The others of the company went to Boston ahead of me, and I +played Linda at a _matinée_ in New York before following them. This was +the first time I sang in opera with Brignoli. I went on in the part with +only one rehearsal. Opera-goers do not hear _Linda_ any more, but it is +a graceful little opera with some pretty music and a really charmingly +poetic story. It was taken from the French play, _La Grâce de Dieu_, and +_Rigoletto_ was taken from Victor Hugo's _Le Roi S'Amuse_. The story of +_Linda_ is that of a Swiss peasant girl of Chamounix who falls in love +with a French noble whom she has met as a strolling painter in her +village. He returns to Paris and she follows him there, walking all the +way and accompanied by a faithful rustic, Pierotto, who loves her +humbly. He plays a hurdy-gurdy and Linda sings, and so the poor young +vagrants pay their way. In Paris the nobleman finds her and lavishes all +manner of jewels and luxuries upon little Linda, but at last abandons +her to make a rich marriage. On the same day that she hears the news of +her lover's wedding her father comes to her house in Paris and denounces +her. She goes mad, of course. Most operatic heroines did go mad in those +days. And, in the last act, the peasant lover with the hurdy-gurdy takes +her back to Chamounix among the hills. On the lengthy journey he can +lure her along only by playing a melody that she knows and loves. It is +a dear little story; but I never could comprehend how Boston was induced +to accept the second act since they drew the line at _Rigoletto_! + +I liked Linda and wanted to give a truthful and appealing impersonation +of her. But the handicaps of those days of crude and primitive theatre +conditions were really almost insurmountable. Now, with every assistance +of wonderful staging, exquisite costuming, and magical lighting, the +artist may rest upon his or her surroundings and accessories and know +that everything possible to art has been brought together to enhance the +convincing effect. In the old days at the Academy, however, we had no +system of lighting except glaring footlights and perhaps a single, +unimaginative calcium. We had no scenery worthy the name; and as for +costumes, there were just three sets called by the theatre _costumier_ +"Paysannes" (peasant dress); "Norma" (they did not know enough even to +call it "classic"); and "Rich!" The last were more or less of the Louis +XIV period and could be slightly modified for various operas. These +three sets were combined and altered as required. Yet, of course, the +audiences were correspondingly unexacting. They were so accustomed to +nothing but primitive effects that the simplest touch of true realism +surprised and delighted them. Once during a performance of _Il Barbiere_ +the man who was playing the part of Don Basilio sent his hat out of +doors to be snowed on. It was one of those Spanish shovel hats, long and +square-edged, like a plank. When he wore it in the next act, all white +with snowflakes from the blizzard outside, the audience was so simple +and childlike that it roared with pleasure, "Why, it's _real_ snow!" + +It was also the time when hoop skirts were universally fashionable, so +we all wore hoops, no matter what the period we were supposed to be +representing. Scola first showed me how to fall gracefully in a hoop +skirt, not in the least an easy feat to accomplish; and I shall always +remember seeing Mme. de la Grange go to bed in one, in her sleep-walking +scene in _Sonnambula_. Indeed, there was no illusion nor enchantment to +help one in those elementary days. One had to conquer one's public alone +and unaided. + +I confided myself at first to the hands of the _costumier_ with +characteristic truthfulness. I had considered the musical and dramatic +aspects of the part; it did not occur to me that the clothes would +become my responsibility as well. That theatre _costumier_ at the +Academy, I found, could not even cut a skirt. Linda's was a strange +affair, very long on the sides, and startlingly short in front. But this +was the least of my troubles on the afternoon of that first _matinée_ +in New York. When it came to the last act--there having been no +rehearsals, and my experience being next to nothing--I asked innocently +for my costume, and was told that I would have to wear the same dress I +had worn in the first act. + +"But, I can't!" I gasped. "That fresh, new gown, after months are +supposed to have gone by!--when Linda has walked and slept in it during +the whole journey!" + +"No one will think of that," I was assured. + +But _I_ thought of it and simply could not put on that clean dress for +poor Linda's travel-worn last act. I sent for an old shawl from the +chorus and ripped my costume into rags. By this time the orchestra was +almost at the opening bars of the third act and there was not a moment +to lose. Suddenly I looked at my shoes and nearly collapsed with +despair. One always provided one's own foot-gear and the shoes I had on +were absolutely the only pair of the sort required that I possessed; +neat little slippers, painfully new and clean. We had not gone to any +extra expense, in case I did not happen to make a success that would +justify it, and that was the reason I had only the one pair. Well--there +was a moment's struggle before I attacked my pretty shoes--but my +passion for realism triumphed. I sent a man out into Fourteenth Street +at the stage door of the Academy and had him rub those immaculate +slippers in the gutter until they were thoroughly dirty, so that when I +wore them onto the stage three minutes later they looked as if I had +really walked to Paris and back in them. + +The next day the newspapers said that the part of Linda had never before +been sung with so much pathos. + +"Aha!" said I, "that's my old clothes! That's my dirt!" + +I had learned that the more you look your part the less you have to act. +The observance of this truth was always Henry Irving's great strength. +The more completely you get inside a character the less, also, are you +obliged to depend on brilliant vocalism. Mary Garden is a case in point. +She is not a great singer, although she sings better than she is +credited with doing or her voice could not endure as much as it does, +but above all she is intelligent and an artistic realist, taking care +never to lose the spirit of her _rôle_. Renaud is one of the few men I +have ever seen in opera who was willing to wear dirty clothes if they +chanced to be in character. I shall never forget Jean de Reszke in +_L'Africaine_. In the Madagascar scene, just after the rescue from the +foundered vessel, he appeared in the most beautiful fresh tights +imaginable and a pair of superb light leather boots. Indeed, the most +distinguished performance becomes weak and valueless if the note of +truth is lacking. + +Theodore Thomas was the first violin in the Academy at the time of which +I am writing, and not a very good one either. The director was +Maretzek--"Maretzek the Magnificent" as he was always called, for he was +very handsome and had a vivid and compelling personality--on whom be +benisons, for it was he who, later, suggested the giving of _Faust_, and +me for the leading _rôle_. + +I was not popular with my fellow-artists and did not have a very +pleasant time preparing and rehearsing for my first parts. The chorus +was made up of Italians who never studied their music, merely learned it +at rehearsal, and the rehearsals themselves were often farcical. The +Italians of the chorus were always bitter against me for, up to that +time, Italians had had the monopoly of music. It was not generally +conceded that Americans could appreciate, much less interpret opera; and +I, as the first American _prima donna_, was in the position of a +foreigner in my own country. The chorus, indeed, could sometimes hardly +contain themselves. "Who is she," they would demand indignantly, "to +come and take the bread out of our mouths?" + +One other person in the company who never gave me a kind word (although +she was not an Italian) was Adelaide Phillips, the contralto. She was a +fine artist and had been singing for many years, so, perhaps, it galled +her to have to "support" a younger countrywoman. When it came to +dividing the honours she was not at all pleased. As Maddalena in +_Rigoletto_ she was very plain; but when she did Pierotto, the boyish, +rustic lover in _Linda_, she looked well. She had the most perfectly +formed pair of legs--ankles, feet and all--that I ever saw on a woman. + +In singing with Brignoli there developed a difficulty to which Ferri's +blindness was nothing. Brignoli seriously objected to being touched +during his scene! Imagine playing love scenes with a tenor who did not +want to be touched, no matter what might be the emotional exigencies of +the moment or situation. The bass part in _Linda_ is that of the Baron, +and when I first sang the opera it was taken by Susini, who had been +with us on our preparatory _tournée_. His wife was Isabella Hinckley, a +good and sweet woman, also a singer with an excellent soprano voice. I +found that the big basso (he was a very large man with a buoyant sense +of humour) was a fine actor and had a genuine dramatic gift in singing. +His sense of humour was always bubbling up, in and out of performances. +I once lost a diamond from one of my rings during the first act. My +dressing-room and the stage were searched, but with no result. We went +on for the last act and, in the scene when I was supposed to be +unconscious, Susini caught sight of the stone glittering on the floor +and picked it up. As he needed his hands for gesticulations, he popped +the diamond into his mouth and when I "came to" he stuck out his tongue +at me with the stone on the end of it! + +While I was working on the part of Linda myself, I heard Mme. Medori +sing it. She gave a fine emotional interpretation, getting great tragic +effects in the Paris act, but she did not catch the _naïve_ and +ingenuous quality of poor, young Linda. It could hardly have been +otherwise, for she was at the time a mature woman. There are some +parts,--Marguerite is one of them, also,--that can be made too +complicated, too subtle, too dramatic. I was criticised for my +immaturity and lack of emotional power until I was tired of hearing such +criticism; and once had a quaint little argument about my abilities and +powers with "Nym Crinkle," the musical critic of _The World_, A. C. +Wheeler. (Later he made a success in literature under the name of "J. P. +Mowbray.") + +"What do you expect," I demanded, in my old-fashioned yet childish way, +being at the time eighteen, "what do you expect of a person of my age?" + +[Illustration: =Brignoli, 1865= + +From a photograph by C. Silvy] + + + + +CHAPTER V + +LITERARY BOSTON + + +My friends in New York had given me letters to people in Boston, so I +went there with every opportunity for an enjoyable visit. But, +naturally, I was much more absorbed in my own _début_ and in what the +public would think of me than I was in meeting new acquaintances and +receiving invitations. Now I wish that I had then more clearly realised +possibilities, for Boston was at the height of its literary reputation. +All my impressions of that Boston season, however, sink into +insignificance compared to that of my first public appearance. I sang +Linda; and there were only three hundred people in the house! + +If anything in the world could have discouraged me that would have, but, +as a matter of fact, I do not believe anything could. At any rate, I +worked all the harder just because the conditions were so adverse; and I +won my public (such as it was) that night. I may add that I kept it for +the remainder of my stay in Boston. + +At that period of my life I was very fragile and one big performance +would wear me out. Literally, I used myself up in singing, for I put +into it every ounce of my strength. I could not save myself when I was +actually working, but my way of economising my vitality was to sing only +twice a week. + +It was after that first performance of _Linda_, some time about +midnight, and my mother and I had just returned to our apartment in the +Tremont House and had hardly taken off our wraps, when a knock came at +the door. Our sitting-room was near a side entrance for the sake of +quietness and privacy, but we paid a penalty in the ease with which we +could be reached by anyone who knew the way. My mother opened the door; +and there stood two ladies who overwhelmed us with gracious speeches. +"They had heard my Linda! They had come because they simply could not +help it; because I had moved them so deeply! Now, _would_ we both come +the following evening to a little _musicale_; and they would ask that +delightful Signor Brignoli too! It would be _such_ a pleasure! etc." + +Although I was not singing the following night, I objected to going to +the _musicale_ because certain experiences in New York had already bred +caution. I said, however, with perfect frankness, that I would go on one +condition. + +"On _any_ condition, dear Miss Kellogg!" + +"You wouldn't expect me to sing?" + +"Oh no; no, no!" + +Accordingly, the next night my mother and I presented ourselves at the +house of the older of the two ladies. The first words our hostess +uttered when I entered the room were: + +"Why! where's your music?" + +"I thought it was understood that I was not to sing," said I. + +But, in spite of their previous earnest disclaimers on this point, they +became so insistent that, after resisting their importunities for a few +moments, I finally consented to satisfy them. I asked Brignoli to play +for me, and I sang the Cavatina from _Linda_. Then I turned on my heel +and went back to my hotel; and I never again entered that woman's house. +After so many years there is no harm in saying that the hostess who was +guilty of this breach of tact, good taste, and consideration, was Mrs. +Paran Stevens, and the other lady was her sister, Miss Fanny Reed, one +of the talented amateurs of the day. They were struggling hard for +social recognition in Boston and every drawing card was of value, even a +new, young singer who might become famous. Later, of course, Mrs. +Stevens did "arrive" in New York; but she travelled some difficult roads +first. + +This was by no means the first time that I had contended with a lack of +consideration in the American hostess, especially toward artists. Her +sisters across the Atlantic have better taste and breeding, never +subjecting an artist who is their guest to the annoyance and indignity +of having to "sing for her supper." But whenever I was invited anywhere +by an American woman, I always knew that I would be expected to bring my +music and to contribute toward the entertainment of the other guests. An +Englishwoman I once met when travelling on the Continent hit the nail on +the head, although in quite another connection. + +"You Americans are so queer," she remarked. "I heard a woman from the +States ask a perfectly strange man recently to stop in at a shop and +match her some silk while he was out! I imagine it is because you don't +mind putting yourselves under obligations, isn't it?" + +Literary Boston of that day revolved around Mr. and Mrs. James T. +Fields, at whose house often assembled such distinguished men and women +as Emerson, Longfellow, Oliver Wendell Holmes, Lowell, Anthony +Trollope, Harriet Beecher Stowe, and Julia Ward Howe. Mr. Fields was the +editor of _The Atlantic Monthly_, and his sense of humour was always a +delight. + +"A lady came in from the suburbs to see me this morning," he once +remarked to me. "'Well, Mr. Fields,' she said, with great +impressiveness, 'what have you new in literature to-day? I'm just +_thusty_ for knowledge!'" + +Your true New Englander always says "thust" and "fust" and "wust," and +Mr. Fields had just the intonation--which reminds me somehow--in a +roundabout fashion--of a strange woman who battered on my door once +after I had appeared in _Faust_, in Boston, to tell me that "that man +Mephisto-fleas was just great!" + +It was a wonderful privilege to meet Longfellow. He was never gay, never +effusive, leaving these attributes to his talkative brother-in-law, Tom +Appleton, who was a wit and a humourist. Indeed, Longfellow was rather +noted for his cold exterior, and it took a little time and trouble to +break the ice, but, though so unexpressive outwardly, his nature was +most winning when one was once in touch with it. His first wife was +burned to death and the tragedy affected him permanently, although he +made a second and a very successful marriage with Tom Appleton's sister. +The brothers-in-law were often together and formed the oddest possible +contrast to each other. + +[Illustration: =James Russell Lowell in 1861= + +From a photograph by Brady] + +Longfellow and I became good friends. I saw him many times and often +went to his house to sing to him. He greatly enjoyed my singing of his +own _Beware_. It was always one of my successful _encore_ songs, +although it certainly is not Longfellow at his best. But he liked me +to sit at the piano and wander from one song to another. The older the +melodies, the sweeter he found them. Longfellow's verses have much in +common with simple, old-fashioned songs. They always touched the common +people, particularly the common people of England. They were so simple +and so true that those folk who lived and laboured close to the earth +found much that moved them in the American writer's unaffected and +elemental poetry. Yet it seems a bit strange that his poems are more +loved and appreciated in England than in America, much as Tennyson's are +more familiar to us than to his own people. Some years later, when I was +singing in London, I heard that Longfellow was in town and sent him a +box. He and Tom Appleton, who was with him, came behind the scenes +between the acts to see me and, my mother being with me, both were +invited into my dressing-room. In the London theatres there are women, +generally advanced in years, who assist the _prima donna_ or actress to +dress. These do not exist in American theatres. I had a maid, of course, +but there was this woman of the theatre, also, a particularly ordinary +creature who contributed nothing to the gaiety of nations and who, +indeed, rarely showed feeling of any sort. I happened to say to her: + +"Perkins, I am going to see Mr. Longfellow." + +Her face became absolutely transfigured. + +"Oh, Miss," she cried in a tone of awe and curtseying to his name, "you +don't mean 'im that wrote _Tell me not in mournful numbers_? Oh, Miss! +_'im!_" + +Lowell I knew only slightly, yet his distinguished and distinctive +personality made a great impression on me. Thomas Bailey Aldrich, a +blond, curly-headed young man, whose later prosperity greatly +interfered with his ability, I first met about this same time. He was +too successful too young, and it stultified his gifts, as being +successful too young usually does stultify the natural gifts of anybody. +On one occasion I met Anthony Trollope at the Fields', the English +novelist whose works were then more or less in vogue. He had just come +from England and was filled with conceit. English people of that time +were incredibly insular and uninformed about us, and Mr. Trollope knew +nothing of America, and did not seem to want to know anything. +Certainly, English people when they are not thoroughbred can be very +common! Trollope was full of himself and wrote only for what he could +get out of it. I never, before or since, met a literary person who was +so frankly "on the make." The discussion that afternoon was about the +recompense of authors, and Trollope said that he had reduced his +literary efforts to a working basis and wrote so many words to a page +and so many pages to a chapter. He refrained from using the actual word +"money"--the English shrink from the word "money"--but he managed to +convey to his hearers the fact that a considerable consideration was the +main incentive to his literary labour, and put the matter more +specifically later, to my mother, by telling her that he always _chose +the words that would fill up the pages quickest_. + +Nathaniel Hawthorne, though he was one of the Fields' circle, I never +met at all. He was tragically shy, and more than once escaped from the +house when we went in rather than meet two strange women. + +"Hawthorne has just gone out the other way," Mrs. Fields would whisper, +smiling. "He's too frightened to meet you!" + +I met his boy Julian, however, who was about twelve years old. He was a +nice lad and I kissed him--to his great annoyance, for he was shy too, +although not so much so as his father. Not so very long ago Julian +Hawthorne reminded me of this episode. + +"Do you remember," he said, laughing, "how embarrassed I was when you +kissed me? 'Never you mind' you said to me then, 'the time will come, my +boy, when you'll be glad to remember that I kissed you!' And it +certainly did come!" + +All Boston that winter was stirred by the approaching agitations of war; +and those two remarkable women, Mrs. Stowe and Mrs. Howe were using +their pens to excite the community into a species of splendid rage. I +first met them both at the Fields' and always admired Julia Ward Howe as +a representative type of the highest Boston culture. Harriet Beecher +Stowe had just finished _Uncle Tom's Cabin_. Many people believed that +it and the disturbance it made were partly responsible for the war +itself. Mr. Fields told me that her "copy" was the most remarkable +"stuff" that the publishers had ever encountered. It was written quite +roughly and disconnectedly on whatever scraps of paper she had at hand. +I suppose she wrote it when the spirit moved her. At any rate, Mr. +Fields said it was the most difficult task imaginable to fit it into any +form that the printers could understand. Mrs. Stowe was a quiet, elderly +woman, and talked very little. I had an odd sort of feeling that she had +put so much of herself into her book that she had nothing left to offer +socially. + +I did not realise until years afterwards what a precious privilege it +was to meet in such a charming _intime_ way the men and women who really +"made" American literature. The Fields literally kept open house. They +were the most hospitable of people, and I loved them and spent some +happy hours with them. I cannot begin to enumerate or even to remember +all the literary lights I met in their drawing-room. Of that number +there were James Freeman Clarke, Harriet Prescott Spofford, whom I knew +later in Washington, and Gail Hamilton who was just budding into +literary prominence; and Sidney Lanier. But, as I look back on that +first Boston engagement, I see plainly that the most striking impression +made upon my youthful mind during the entire season was the opening +night of _Linda di Chamounix_ and the three hundred auditors! + +It was long, long after that first season that I had some of my +pleasantest times in Boston with Sidney Lanier. This may not be the +right place to mention them, but they certainly belong under the heading +of this chapter. + +The evening that stands out most clearly in my memory was one, in the +'seventies, that I spent at the house of dear Charlotte Cushman who was +then very ill and who died almost immediately after. Sidney Lanier was +there with his flute, which he played charmingly. Indeed, he was as much +musician as poet, as anyone who knows his verse must realise. He was +poor then, and Miss Cushman was interested in him and anxious to help +him in every way she could. There were two dried-up, little, Boston old +maids there too--queer creatures--who were much impressed with High Art +without knowing anything about it. One composition that Lanier played +somewhat puzzled me--my impertinent absolute pitch was, as usual, hard +at work--and at the end I exclaimed: + +"That piece doesn't end in the same key in which it begins!" + +Lanier looked surprised and said: + +"No, it doesn't. It is one of my own compositions." + +He thought it remarkable that I could catch the change of key in such a +long and intricately modulated piece of music. The little old maids of +Boston were somewhat scandalised by my effrontery; but there was even +more to come. After another lovely thing which he played for us, I was +so impressed by the rare tone of his instrument that I asked: + +"Is that a Böhm flute?" + +He, being a musician, was delighted with the implied compliment; but the +old ladies saw in my question only a shocking slight upon his execution. +Turning to one another they ejaculated with one voice, and that one +filled with scorn and pity: + +"She thinks it's the _flute_!" + +This difference between professionals and the laity is odd. The more +enchanted a professional is with another artist's performance, the more +technical interest and curiosity he feels. The amateur only knows how to +rhapsodise. This seems to be so in everything. When someone rides in an +automobile for the first time he only thinks how exciting it is and how +fast he is going. The experienced motorist immediately wants to know +what sort of engine the machine has, and how many cylinders. + +I have always loved a flute. It is a difficult instrument to play with +colour and variety. It is not like the violin, on which one can get +thirds, and sixths, and sevenths, by using the arpeggio: it is a single, +thin tone and can easily become monotonous if not played skilfully. +Furthermore, there are only certain pieces of music that ever ought to +be played on it. Wagner uses the flute wonderfully. He never lets it +bore his audience. The Orientals have brought flute playing and flute +music to a fine art, and it is one of the oldest of instruments, but, +unlike the violin and other instruments, it is more perfectly +manufactured to-day than it was in the past. The modern flutes have a +far more mellow and sympathetic tone than the old ones. + +That whole evening at Miss Cushman's was complete in its fulness of +experience, as I recall it, looking back across the years. How many +people know that Miss Cushman had studied singing and had a very fine +_baritone_ contralto voice? Two of her songs were _The Sands o' Dee_ and +_Low I Breathe my Passion_. That night, the last time I ever heard her +sing, I recalled how often before I had seen her seating herself at the +piano to play her own accompaniments, always a difficult thing to do. +Again I can see her, at this late day, turning on the stool to talk to +us between songs, emphasising her points with that odd, inevitable +gesture of the forefinger that was so characteristic of her, and then +wheeling back to the instrument to let that deep voice of hers roll +through the room in + + "Will she wake and say good night?"... + +During that first Boston season of mine, my mother and I used to give +breakfasts at the Parker House. We were somewhat noted characters there +as we were the first women to stop at it, the Parker House being +originally a man's restaurant exclusively; and breakfast was a meal of +ceremony. The _chef_ of the Parker House used to surpass himself at our +breakfast entertainments for he knew that such an epicure as Oliver +Wendell Holmes might be there at any time. This _chef_, by the way, was +the first man to put up soups in cans and, after he left the Parker +House kitchens, he made name and money for himself in establishing the +canned goods trade. + +[Illustration: =Charlotte Cushman, 1861= + +From a photograph by Silsbee, Case & Co.] + +Dear Dr. Holmes! What a delightful, warm spontaneous nature was his, and +what a fine mind! We were always good friends and I am proud of the +fact. Shall I ever forget the dignity and impressiveness of his bearing +as, after the fourth course of one of my breakfasts, he glanced up, saw +the waiter approaching, arose solemnly as if he were about to make a +speech, went behind his chair,--we all thought he was about to give us +one of his brilliant addresses--shook out one leg and then the other, +all most seriously and without a word, so as to make room for the next +course! + +Years later Dr. Holmes and I crossed from England on the same steamer. +He had been fêted and made much of in England and we discussed the +relative brilliancy of American and English women. I contended that +Americans were the brighter and more sparkling, while English women had +twice as much real education and mental training. Dr. Holmes agreed, but +with reservations. He professed himself to be still dazzled with British +feminine wit. + +"I'm tired to death," he declared. "At every dinner party I went to they +had picked out the cleverest women in London to sit on each side of me. +I'm utterly exhausted trying to keep up with them!" + +This was the voyage when the benefit for the sailors was given--for the +English sailors, that is. It was well arranged so that the American +seamen could get nothing out of it. Dr. Holmes was asked to speak and I +was asked to sing; but we declined to perform. We did write our names +on the programmes, however, and as these sold for a considerable price, +we added to the fund in spite of our intentions. + +My first season in Boston--from which I have strayed so far so many +times--was destined to be a brief one, but also very strenuous, due to +the fact that in the beginning I had only two operas in my _répertoire_, +one of which Boston did not approve. After _Linda_, I was rushed on in +Bellini's _I Puritani_ and had to "get up in it" in three days. It went +very well, and was followed with _La Sonnambula_ by the same composer +and after only one week's rehearsal. I was a busy girl in those weeks; +and I should have been still busier if opera in America had not received +a sudden and tragic blow. + +The "vacillating" Buchanan's reign was over. On March 4th Lincoln was +inaugurated. A hush of suspense was in the air:--a hush broken on April +12th by the shot fired by South Carolina upon Fort Sumter. On April 14th +Sumter capitulated and Abraham Lincoln called for volunteers. The Civil +War had begun. + + + + +CHAPTER VI + +WAR TIMES + + +At first the tremendous crisis filled everyone with a purely impersonal +excitement and concern; but one fine morning we awoke to the fact that +our opera season was paralysed. + +The American people found the actual dramas of Bull Run, Big Bethel and +Harpers Ferry more absorbing than any play or opera ever put upon the +boards, and the airs of _Yankee Doodle_ and _The Girl I Left Behind Me_ +more inspiring than the finest operatic _arias_ in the world. They did +not want to go to the theatres in the evening. They wanted to read the +bulletin boards. Every move in the big game of war that was being played +by the ruling powers of our country was of thrilling interest, and as +fast as things happened they were "posted." + +Maretzek "the Magnificent," so obstinate that he simply did not know how +to give up a project merely because it was impossible, packed a few of +us off to Philadelphia to produce the _Ballo in Maschera_. We hoped +against hope that it would be light enough to divert the public, at even +that tragic moment. But the public refused to be diverted. Why I ever +sang in it I cannot imagine. I weighed barely one hundred and four +pounds and was about as well suited to the part of Amelia as a sparrow +would have been. I never liked the _rôle_; it is heavy and uncongenial +and altogether out of my line. I should never have been permitted to do +it, and I have always suspected that there might have been something of +a plot against me on the part of the Italians. But all this made no +difference, for we abandoned the idea of taking the opera out on a short +tour. We could plainly see that opera was doomed for the time being in +America. + +Then Maretzek bethought himself of _La Figlia del Reggimento_, a +military opera, very light and infectious, that might easily catch the +wave of public sentiment at the moment. We put it on in a rush. I played +the Daughter and we crowded into the performance every bit of martial +feeling we could muster. I learned to play the drum, and we introduced +all sorts of military business and bugle calls, and altogether contrived +to create a warlike atmosphere. We were determined to make a success of +it; but we were also genuinely moved by the contagious glow that +pervaded the country and the times, and to this combined mood of +patriotism and expediency we sacrificed many artistic details. For +example, we were barbarous enough to put in sundry American national +airs and we had the assistance of real Zouaves to lend colour; and this +reminds me that about the same period Isabella Hinckley even sang _The +Star Spangled Banner_ in the middle of a performance of _Il Barbiere_. + +Our attempt was a great success. We played Donizetti's little opera to +houses of frantic enthusiasm, first in Baltimore, then in Washington on +May the third, where naturally the war fever was at its highest heat. +The audiences cheered and cried and let themselves go in the hysterical +manner of people wrought up by great national excitements. Even on the +stage we caught the feeling. I sang the Figlia better than I had ever +sung anything yet, and I found myself wondering, as I sang, how many of +my cadet friends of a few months earlier were already at the front. + +[Illustration: =Clara Louise Kellogg as Figlia= + +From a photograph by Black & Case] + +I felt very proud of these friends when I read the despatches from the +front. They all distinguished themselves, some on one side and some on +the other. Alec McCook was Colonel of the 1st Ohio Volunteers, being an +Ohio man by birth, and did splendid service in the first big battle of +the war, Bull Run. He was made Major-General of Volunteers later, I +believe, and always held a prominent position in American military +affairs. From Fort Pulaski came word of Lieutenant Horace Porter who, +though only recently graduated, was in command of the battlements there. +He was speedily brevetted Captain for "distinguished gallantry under +fire," and after Antietam he was sent to join the Army of the Ohio. He +was everywhere and did everything imaginable during the +war--Chattanooga, Chickamauga, the Battle of the Wilderness--and was +General Grant's _aide-de-camp_ in some of the big conflicts. McCreary +and young Huger I heard less of because they were on the other side; but +they were both brave fellows and did finely according to their +convictions. It is odd to recall that Huger's father, General Isaac +Huger, had fought for the Union in the early wars and yet turned against +her in the civil struggle between the blues and the greys. The Hugers +were South Carolinians though, and therefore rabid Confederates. + +With the war and its many memories, ghosts will always rise up in my +recollection of Custer, the "Golden Haired Laddie,"--as his friends +called him. He was a good friend of mine, and after the war was over he +used to come frequently to see me and tell me the most wonderful, +thrilling stories about it, and of his earliest fights with the Indians. +He was a most vivid creature; one felt a sense of vigour and energy and +eagerness about him; and he was so brave and zealous as to make one know +that he would always come up to the mark. I never saw more magnificent +enthusiasm. He was not thirty at that time and when on horseback, riding +hard, with his long yellow hair blowing back in the wind, he was a +marvellously striking figure. He was not really a tall man, but looked +so, being a soldier. Oh, if I could only remember those stories of +his--stories of pluck and of danger and of excitement! + +It has always been a matter of secret pride with me that, in my small +way, I did something for the Union too. I heard that our patriotic and +inartistic _Daughter of the Regiment_ caused several lads to enlist. I +do not know if this were true, but I hoped so at the time, and it might +well have been so. + +I had a dresser, Ellen Conklin, who had some strange and rather ghastly +tales to tell of the slave trade in the days before the war. She had +been in other opera companies, small troupes, that sang their way from +the far South, and the primitive and casual manner of their travel had +offered many opportunities for her to visit any number of slave markets. +She frequently had been harrowed to the breaking point by the sight of +mothers separated from their children, and men and women who loved each +other being parted for life. The worst horror of it all had been to her +the examining of the female slaves as to their physical equipment, in +which the buyers were more often brutal than not. Ellen was Irish and +emotional; and it tore her heart out to see such things; but she kept +on going to the slave sales just the same. + +[Illustration: =General Horace Porter= + +From a photograph by Pach Bros.] + +"They nearly killed me, Miss," she declared to me with tears in her +eyes, "but I could never resist one!" + +Though I quite understood Ellen's emotions, I found it a little +difficult to understand why she invited them so persistently. But I have +learned that this is a very common human weakness--luckily for managers +who put on harrowing plays. Many people go to the theatre to cry. When I +sang Mignon the audience always cried and wiped its eyes; and I felt +convinced that many had come for exactly that purpose. Two women I know +once went to see Helena Modjeska in _Adrienne Lecouvreur_ and, when the +curtain fell, one of them turned to the other with streaming eyes and +gasped between her choking sobs: + +"L--l--let's come--(sob)--again--(sob)--t--t--to-morrow night! (sob, +sob)." + +Personally, I think there are occasions enough for tears in this life, +bitter or consoling, without having somebody on the stage draw them out +over fictitious joys and sorrows. + +In the beginning of the war the feeling against the negroes was really +more bitter in the North than in the South. The riots in New York were a +scandal and a disgrace, although very few people have any idea how bad +they actually were. The Irish Catholics were particularly rabid and +asserted openly, right and left, that the freeing of the slaves would +mean an influx of cheap labour that would become a drug on the market. +It was an Irish mob that burned a coloured orphan asylum, after which +taste of blood the most innocent black was not safe. Perfectly harmless +coloured people were hanged to lamp-posts with impunity. No one ever +seemed to be punished for such outrages. The time was one of open +lawlessness in New York City. The Irish seem sometimes to be peculiarly +possessed by this unreasoning and hysterical mob spirit which, as Ruskin +once pointed out, they always manage to justify to themselves by some +high abstract principle or sentiment. A story that has always seemed to +me illustrative of this is that of the Hibernian contingent that hanged +an unfortunate Jew because his people had killed Jesus Christ and, when +reminded that it had all happened some time before, replied that "that +might be, but they had only just heard of it!" It is a singularly +significant story, with much more truth than jest in it. Years later, I +recollect that those Irish riots in New York over the negro question +served as the basis for some exceedingly heated arguments between an +English friend of mine at Aix-les-Bains and a Catholic priest living +there. The priest sought to justify them, but his reasonings have +escaped me. + +At the time of these riots our New York home was on Twenty-second Street +where Stern's shop now stands. We rented it from the Bryces, +Southerners, who had a coloured coachman, a fact that made our residence +a target for the animosity of our more ignorant neighbours who lived in +the rear. The house was built with a foreign porte-cochère; and, time +and again, small mobs would throng under that porte-cochère, battering +on the door and trying to break in to get the coachman. The hanging of a +negro near St. John's Chapel was an occasion for rejoicing and +festivity, and the lower class Irish considered it a time for their best +clothes. One hears of bear-baiting and bull-fights. But think of the +barbarity of all this! + +Once, when we went away for a day or two, we left Irish servants in the +house and, on returning, I found that the maids had been wearing my +smartest gowns to view the riots and lynchings. A common lace collar was +pinned to one of my French dresses and I had little difficulty in +getting the waitress to admit that she had worn it. She explained +_naïvely_ that the riots were gala occasions, "a great time for the +Irish." She added that she had met my father on the stairs and had been +afraid that he would recognise the dress; but, although she was penitent +enough about "borrowing" the finery, she did not in the least see +anything odd in her desire to dress up for the tormenting of an +unfortunate fellow-creature. + +Everybody went about singing Mrs. Howe's _Battle Hymn of the Republic_ +and it was then that I first learned that the air--the simple but +rousing little melody of _John Brown's Body_--was in reality a melody by +Felix Mendelssohn. Martial songs of all kinds were the order of the day +and all more classic music was relegated to the background for the time +being. It was not until the following winter that public sentiment +subsided sufficiently for us to really consider another musical season. + + + + +CHAPTER VII + +STEPS OF THE LADDER + + +In the three years between my _début_ and my appearance in _Faust_ I +sang, in all, a dozen operas:--_Rigoletto_, _Linda_, _I Puritani_, +_Sonnambula_, _Ballo in Maschera_, _Figlia del Reggimento_, _Les Noces +de Jeannette_, _Lucia_, _Don Giovanni_, _Poliuto_, _Marta_, and +_Traviata_. Besides these, I sang a good deal in concert, but I never +cared for either concert or oratorio work as much as for opera. My real +growth and development came from big parts in which both musical and +dramatic accomplishment were necessary. + +Like all artists, I look back upon many fluctuations in my artistic +achievements. Sometimes I was good, and often not so good; and, +curiously enough, I was usually best, according to my friends and +critics, when most dissatisfied with myself. But of one thing I am +fairly confident:--I never really went backward, never seriously +retrograded artistically. Each _rôle_ was a step further and higher. To +each I brought a clearer vision, a surer touch, a more flexible method, +a finer (how shall I say it in English?) _attaque_ is nearest what I +mean. This I say without vanity, for the artist who does not grow and +improve with each succeeding part is deteriorating. There is no standing +still in any life work; or, if there is, it is the standing still of +successful effort, the hard-won tenure of a difficult place from which +most people slip back. The Red Queen in _Through the Looking Glass_ +expressed it rightly when she told Alice that "you have to run just as +hard as you can to stay where you are." + +As Gilda I was laying only the groundwork. My performance was, I +believe, on the right lines. It rang true. But it was far from what it +became in later years when the English critics found me "the most +beautiful and convincing of all Gildas!" As Linda I do not think that I +showed any great intellectual improvement over Gilda, but I had acquired +a certain confidence and authority. I sang and acted with more ease; and +for the first time I had gained a sense of _personal responsibility_ +toward, and for, an audience. When I beheld only three hundred people in +my first-night Boston audience and determined to win them, and did win +them, I came into possession of new and important factors in my work. +This consciousness and earnest will-power to move one's public by the +force of one's art is one of the first steps toward being a true _prima +donna_. + +_I Puritani_ never taught me very much, simply as an opera. The part was +too heavy as my voice was then, and our production of it was so hurried +that I had not time to spend on it the study which I liked to give a new +_rôle_. But in this very fact lay its lesson for me. The necessity for +losing timidity and self-consciousness, the power to fling oneself into +a new part without time to coddle one's vanity or one's habits of mind, +the impersonal courage needed to attack fresh difficulties:--these +points are of quite as much importance to a young opera singer as are +fine breath control and a gift for phrasing. _Sonnambula_, too, had to +be "jumped into" in the same fashion and was even more of an +undertaking, though the _rôle_ suited me better and is, in fact, a +rarely grateful one. Yet think of being Amina with only one week's +rehearsing! _Sonnambula_ was first given by us as a benefit performance +for Brignoli. It was generally understood to be in the nature of a +farewell. Indeed, I think he said so himself. But, of course, he never +had the slightest idea of really leaving America. He stayed here until +he died. But to his credit be it said that he never had any more +"farewell" appearances. He did not form the habit. + +I have spoken of how hopeless it is for an opera singer to try to work +emotionally or purely on impulse; of how futile the merely temperamental +artist becomes on the operatic stage. Yet too much stress cannot be laid +on the importance of feeling what one does and sings. It is in just this +seeming paradox that the truly professional artist's point of view may +be found. The amateur acts and sings temperamentally. The trained +student gives a finished and correct performance. It is only a +genius--or something very near it--who can do both. There is something +balanced and restrained in a genuine _prima donna's_ brain that keeps +her emotions from running away with her, just as there is at the same +time something equally warm and inspired in her heart that animates the +most clear-cut of her intellectual work and makes it living and lovely. +Sometimes it is difficult for an experienced artist to say just where +instinct stops and art begins. When I sang Amina I was greatly +complimented on my walk and my intonation, both most characteristic of a +somnambulist. I made a point of keeping a strange, rhythmical, dreamy +step like that of a sleep-walker and sang as if I were talking in my +sleep. I breathed in a hard, laboured way, and walked with the headlong +yet dragging gait of someone who neither sees, knows, nor cares where +she is going. Now, this effect came not entirely from calculation nor +yet from intuition, but from a combination of the two. I was in the +_mood_ of somnambulism and acted accordingly. But I deliberately placed +myself in that mood. This only partly expresses what I wish to say on +the subject; but it is the root of dramatic work as I know it. + +The opera of _Sonnambula_, incidentally, taught me one or two things not +generally included in stage essentials. Among others, I had to learn not +to be afraid, physically afraid, or at any rate not to mind being +afraid. In the sleep-walking scene Amina, carrying her candle and robed +in white, glides across the narrow bridge at a perilous height while the +watchers below momentarily expect her to be dashed to pieces on the +rocks underneath. Our bridge used to be set very high indeed (it was +especially lofty in the Philadelphia Opera House where we gave the opera +a little later), and I had quite a climb to get up to it at all. There +was a wire strung along the side of the bridge, but it was not a bit of +good to lean on--merely a moral support. I had to carry the candle in +one hand and couldn't even hold the other outstretched to balance +myself, for sleep-walkers do not fall! This was the point that I had to +keep in mind; I could not walk carefully, but I had to walk with +certainty. In a sense it was suggestive of a hypnotic condition and I +had to get pretty nearly into one myself before I could do it. At all +events, I had to compose myself very summarily first. Just in the middle +of the crossing the bridge is supposed to crack. Of course the edges +were only broken; but I had to give a sort of "jog" to carry out the +illusion and I used to wonder, the while I jogged, if I were going over +the side _that_ time! In the wings they used to be quite anxious about +me and would draw a general breath of relief when I was safely across. +Every night I would be asked if I were sure I wanted to undertake it +that night, and every time I would answer: + +"I don't know whether I _can_!" + +But, of course, I always did it. Somehow, one always does do one's work +on the stage, even if it is trying to the nerves or a bit dangerous. I +have heard that when Maud Adams put on her big production of _Joan of +Arc_, her managers objected seriously to having her lead the mounted +battle charge herself. A "double" was costumed exactly like her and was +ready to mount Miss Adams's horse at the last moment. But did she ever +give a double a chance to lead her battle charge? Not she: and no more +would any true artist. + +[Illustration: =Muzio= + +From a photograph by Gurney & Son] + +_Sonnambula_ also helped fix in my mentality the traditions of Italian +opera; those traditions that my teachers--Muzio particularly--had been +striving so hard to impress upon and make real to me. The school of the +older operas, while the greatest school for singers in the world, is one +in which tradition is, and must be, pre-eminent. In the modern growths, +springing up among us every year, the singer has a chance to create, to +trace new paths, to take venturesome flights. The new operas not only +permit this, they require it. But it is a pity to hear a young, +imaginative artist try to interpret some old and classic opera by the +light of his or her modern perceptions. They do not improve on the +material. They only make a combination that is bizarre and inartistic. +This struck me forcibly not long ago when I heard a young, talented +American sing _A non giunge_, the lovely old _aria_ from the last act +of _Sonnambula_. The girl had a charming voice and she sang with musical +feeling and taste. But she had not one "tradition" as we understood the +term, and, in consequence, almost any worn-out, old-school singer could +have rendered the _aria_ more acceptably to trained ears. Traditions are +as necessary to the Bellini operas as costumes are to Shakespeare's +plays. To dispense with them may be original, but it is bad art. And +yet, while I became duly impressed with the necessity of the +"traditions," during those early performances, I always tried to avoid +following them too servilely or too artificially. I tried to interpret +for myself, within certain well-defined limits, according to my personal +conception of the characters I was personating. The traditions of +Italian opera combined with my own ideals of the lyric heroines,--this +became my object and ambition. + +The summer after my _début_, I went on a concert tour under Grau's +management, but my throat was tired after the strain and nervous effort +of my first season, and I finally went up to the country for a long +rest. In New Hartford, Connecticut, my mother, father, and I renewed +many old friendships, and it was a genuine pleasure to sing again in a +small choir, to attend sewing circles, and to live the every-day life +from which I had been so far removed during my studies and professional +work. People everywhere were charming to me. Though only nineteen, I was +an acknowledged _prima donna_, and so received all sorts of kindly +attentions. This was the summer, I believe, (although it may have been a +later one) when Herbert Witherspoon, then only a boy, determined to +become a professional singer. He has always insisted that it was my +presence and the glamour that surrounded the stage because of me that +finally decided him. + +I did not sing again in New York until the January of 1862. Before that +we had a short season on the road, Philadelphia, Baltimore, and other +places. As there were then but nine opera houses in America our +itinerary was necessarily somewhat limited. In November of that year I +sang in _Les Noces de Jeannette_, in Philadelphia, a charming part +although not a very important one. It is a simple little operetta in one +act by Victor Macci. The _libretto_ was in French and I sang it in that +language. Pleasing speeches were made about my French and people wanted +to know where I had studied it--I, who had never studied it at all +except at home! The opera was not long enough for a full evening's +entertainment, so Miss Hinckley was put on in the same bill in +Donizetti's _Betly_. The two went very well together. + +The critics found _Jeannette_ a great many surprising things, "broad," +"risqué," "typically French," and so on. In reality it was innocent +enough; but it must be remembered that this was a day and generation +which found _Faust_ frightfully daring, and _Traviata_ so improper that +a year's hard effort was required before it could be sung in Brooklyn. I +sympathised with one critic, however, who railed against the translated +_libretto_ as sold in the lobby. After stating that it was utter +nonsense, he added with excellent reason: + +"But this was to have been expected. That anyone connected with an opera +house should know enough about English to make a decent translation into +it is, of course, quite out of the question." + +It was really funny about _Traviata_. In 1861 President Chittenden, of +the Board of Directors of the Brooklyn Academy of Music, made a +sensational speech arraigning the plot of _Traviata_,[1] and protesting +against its production in Brooklyn on the grounds of propriety, or, +rather, impropriety. Meetings were held and it was finally resolved that +the opera was objectionable. The feeling against it grew into a series +of almost religious ceremonies of protest and, as I have said, it took +Grau a year of hard effort to overcome the opposition. When, at last, in +'62, the opera was given, I took part; and the audience was all on edge +with excitement. There had been so much talk about it that the whole +town turned out to see _why_ the Directors had withstood it for a year. +Every clergyman within travelling distance was in the house. + + [1] The book is founded upon Dumas's _La Dame aux Camélias_. + +Its dramatic sister _Camille_ was also opposed violently when Mme. +Modjeska played it in Brooklyn in later years. These facts are amusing +in the light of present-day productions and their morals, or dearth of +them. _Salome_ is, I think, about the only grand opera of recent times +that has been suppressed by a Directors' Meeting. But in my youth +Directors were very tender of their public's virtuous feelings. When +_The Black Crook_ and the Lydia Thompson troupe first appeared in New +York, people spoke of those comparatively harmless shows with bated +breath and no one dared admit having actually seen them. The "Lydia +Thompson Blonds" the troupe was called. They did a burlesque song and +dance affair, and wore yellow wigs. Mr. Brander Matthews married one of +the most popular and charming of them. I wonder what would have happened +to an audience of that time if a modern, up-to-date, Broadway musical +farce had been presented to their consideration! + +At any rate, the much-advertised _Traviata_ was finally given, being a +huge and sensational success. Probably I did not really understand the +character of Violetta down in the bottom of my heart. Modjeska once said +that a woman was only capable of playing Juliet when she was old enough +to be a grandmother; and if that be true of the young Verona girl, how +much more must it be true of poor Camille. My interpretation of the Lady +of the Camellias must have been a curiously impersonal one. I know that +when Emma Abbott appeared in it later, the critics said that she was so +afraid of allowing it to be suggestive that she made it so, whereas I +apparently never thought of that side of it and consequently never +forced my audiences to think of it either. + + There are some things accessible to genius that are beyond the + reach of character [wrote one reviewer]. Abbott expects to make + _Traviata_ acceptable very much as she would make a capon + acceptable. She is always afraid of the words. So she substitutes + her own. Kellogg sang this opera and nobody ever thought of the bad + there is in it. Why? _Because Kellogg never thought of it._ Abbott + reminds me of a girl of four who weeps for pantalettes on account + of the wickedness of the world! + +Violetta's gowns greatly interested me. I liked surprising the public +with new and startling effects. I argued that Violetta would probably +love curious and exotic combinations, so I dressed her first act in a +gown of rose pink and pale primrose yellow. Odd? Yes; of course it was +odd. But the colour scheme, bizarre as it was, always looked to my mind +and the minds of other persons altogether enchanting. + +_A propos_ of the Violetta gowns, I sang the part during one season with +a tenor whose hands were always dirty. I found the back of my pretty +frocks becoming grimier and grimier, and greasier and greasier, and, as +I provided my own gowns and had to be economical, I finally came to the +conclusion that I could not and would not afford such wholesale and +continual ruin. So I sent my compliments to Monsieur and asked him +please to be extra careful and particular about washing his hands before +the performance as my dress was very light and delicate, etc.,--quite a +polite message considering the subject. Politeness, however, was +entirely wasted on him. Back came the cheery and nonchalant reply: + +"All right! Tell her to send me some soap!" + +I sent it: and I supplied him with soap for the rest of the season. This +was cheaper than buying new clothes. + +Tenors are queer creatures. Most of them have their eccentricities and +the soprano is lucky if these are innocuous peculiarities. I used to +find it in my heart, for instance, to wish that they did not have such +queer theories as to what sort of food was good for the voice. Many of +them affected garlic. Stigelli usually exhaled an aroma of lager beer; +while the good Mazzoleni invariably ate from one to two pounds of cheese +the day he was to sing. He said it strengthened his voice. Brignoli had +been long enough in this country to become partly Americanised, so he +never smelled of anything in particular. + +_Poliuto_ by Donizetti was never as brilliant a success as other operas +by the same composer. It is never given now. The scene of it is laid in +Rome, in the days of the Christian martyrs, and it has some very +effective moments, but for some reason those classic days did not +appeal to the public of our presentation. I do not believe _Quo Vadis_ +would ever have gone then as it did later. The music of _Poliuto_ was +easy and showed off the voice, like all of Donizetti's music: and the +part of Paulina was exceptionally fine, with splendid opportunities for +dramatic work. The scene where she is thrown into the Colosseum was +particularly effective. But the American audiences did not seem to be +deeply interested in the fate of Paulina nor in that of Septimus +Severus. The year before my _début_ in _Rigoletto_ I had rehearsed +Paulina and had made something tragically near to a failure of it as I +had not then the physical nor vocal strength for the part. Indeed, I +should never then have been allowed to try it, and I have always had a +suspicion that I was put in it for the express purpose of proving me a +failure. That was when Muzio decided to "try me out" in the concert +_tournée_ as a sort of preliminary education. Therefore, one of the most +comforting elements of the final _Poliuto_ production to me was the +realisation that I was appearing, and appearing well, in a part in which +I had rehearsed so very discouragingly such a short time before. It was +a small triumph, perhaps, but it combined with many other small matters +to establish that sure yet humble confidence which is so essential to a +singer. So far as personal success went, Brignoli made the hit of +_Poliuto_. + +[Illustration: =Clara Louise Kellogg as Lucia= + +From a photograph by Elliott & Fry] + +Lucia was never one of my favourite parts, but it is a singularly +grateful one. It has very few bad moments, and one can attack it without +the dread one sometimes feels for a _rôle_ containing difficult +passages. Of course Lucia, with her hopeless, weak-minded love for +Edgardo, and her spectacular mad scene, reminded me of my beloved +Linda, and there were many points of similarity in the two operas. I +found, therefore, that Lucia involved much less original and +interpretive work than most of my new parts; and it was never fatiguing. +Being beautifully high, I liked singing it. My voice, though flexible +and of wide range, always slipped most easily into the far upper +registers. I can recall the positive ache it was to sing certain parts +of Carmen that took me down far too low for comfort. Sometimes too, I +must admit, I used to "cheat" it. We nearly always opened in _Lucia_ +when we began an opera season. Its success was never sensational, but +invariably safe and sure. Sometimes managers would be dubious and +suggest some production more startling as a commencement, but I always +had a deep and well-founded faith in _Lucia_. + +"It never draws a capacity house," I would be told. + +"But it never fails to get a fair one." + +"It never makes a sensation." + +"But it never gets a bad notice." I would say. + +Martha was a light and pleasing part to play. Vocally it taught me very +little--little, that is to say, that I can now recognise, although I am +loath to make such a statement of any _rôle_. There are so many slight +and obscure ways in which a part can help one, almost unconsciously. The +point that stands out most strikingly in my recollection of _Martha_ is +the rather rueful triumph I had in it with regard to realistic acting. +Everyone who knows the story of Flotow's opera will recall that the +heroine is horribly bored in the first act. She is utterly uninterested, +utterly blasée, utterly listless. Accordingly, so I played the first +act. Later in the opera, when she is in the midst of interesting +happenings and no longer bored, she becomes animated and eager, quite a +different person from the languid great lady in the beginning. So, also, +I played that part. Here came my triumph, although it was a left-handed +compliment aimed with the intention only to criticise and to criticise +severely. One reviewer said, the morning after I had first given my +careful and logical interpretation, that "it was a pity Miss Kellogg had +taken so little pains with the first act. She had played it dully, +stupidly, without interest or animation. Later, however, she brightened +up a little and somewhat redeemed our impression of her work as we had +seen it in the early part of the evening." I felt angry and hurt about +this at the time, yet it pleased me too, for it was a huge tribute even +if the critic did not intend it to be so. + +Although I did sing in _Don Giovanni_ under Grau that year in Boston, I +never really considered it as belonging to that period. I did so much +with this opera in after years--singing both Donna Anna and Zerlina at +various times and winning some of the most notable praise of my +career--that I always instinctively think of it as one of my later and +more mature achievements. I always loved the opera and feel that it is +an invaluable part of every singer's education to have appeared in it. +_The Magic Flute_ never seemed to me to be half so genuinely big or so +inspired. In _Don Giovanni_ Mozart gave us his richest and most complete +flower of operatic work. In our cast were Amodio, whom I had heard with +Piccolomini, and Mme. Medori, my old rival in _Linda_, who had recently +joined the Grau Company. + +[Illustration: =Clara Louise Kellogg as Martha= + +From a photograph by Turner] + +All this time the war was going on and our opera ventures, even at their +best, were nothing to what they had been in the days of peace. It +seemed quite clear for a while that the old favourites would not draw +audiences from among the anxious and sorrowing people. For a big success +we needed something novel, sensational, exceptional. + +On the other side of the world people were all talking of Gounod's new +opera--the one he had sold for only twelve hundred dollars, but which +had made a wonderful hit both in Paris and London. It was said to be +startlingly new; and Max Maretzek, in despair over the many lukewarm +successes we had all had, decided to have a look at the score. The opera +was _Faust_. + +With all my pride, I was terrified and appalled when "the Magnificent" +came to me and abruptly told me that I was to create the part of +Marguerite in America. This was a "large order" for a girl of twenty; +but I took my courage in both hands and resolved to make America proud +of me. I was a pioneer when I undertook Gounod's music and I had no +notion of what to do with it, but my will and my ambition arose to meet +the situation. + +Just here, because of its general bearing on the point, I feel that it +is desirable to quote a paragraph which was written by my old friend--or +was he enemy?--many years later when I had won my measure of success, +"Nym Crinkle" (A. C. Wheeler), and which I have always highly valued: + + There isn't a bit of snobbishness about Kellogg's opinions [he + wrote]. For a woman who has sung everywhere, she retains a very + wholesome opinion of her own country. She always seems to me to be + trying to win two imperishable chaplets, one of which is for her + country. So you see we have got to take our little flags and wave + them whether it is the correct thing or not. And, so far as I am + concerned, I think it is the correct thing.... She has this + tremendous advantage that, when she declares in print that America + can produce its own singers, she is quite capable of going + afterwards upon the stage and proving it! + + + + +CHAPTER VIII + +MARGUERITE + + +Mme. Miolan-Carvalho created Marguerite in Paris, at the Théâtre +Lyrique. In London Patti and Titjiens had both sung it before we put it +on in America,--Adelina at Covent Garden and Titjiens at Her Majesty's +Opera House, where I was destined to sing it later. Except for these +productions of _Faust_ across the sea, that opera was still an +unexplored field. I had absolutely nothing to guide me, nothing to help +me, when I began work on it. I, who had been schooled and trained in +"traditions" and their observances since I had first begun to study, +found myself confronted with conditions that had as yet no traditions. I +had to make them for myself. + +Maretzek secured the score during the winter of '62-'63 and then spoke +to me about the music. I worked at the part off and on for nine months, +even while I was singing other parts and taking my summer vacation. But +when the season opened in the autumn of 1863, the performance was +postponed because a certain reaction had set in on the part of the +public. People were beginning to want some sort of distraction and +relaxation from the horrors and anxieties of war, and now began to come +again to hear the old favourites. So Maretzek wanted to wait and put off +his new sensation until he really needed it as a drawing card. + +Then came the news that Anschutz, the German manager, was about to bring +a German company to the Terrace Garden in New York with a fine +_répertoire_ of grand opera, including _Faust_. Of course this settled +the question. Maretzek hurried the new opera into final rehearsal and it +was produced at The Academy of Music on November 25, 1863, when I was +very little more than twenty years old. + +Before I myself say anything about _Faust_, in which I was soon to +appear, I want to quote the views of a leading newspaper of New York +after I had appeared. + + A brilliant audience assembled last night. The opera was _Faust_. + Such an audience ought, in figurative language, "to raise the roof + off" with applause. But with the clumsily written, uninspired + melodies that the solo singers have to declaim there was the least + possible applause. And this is not the fault of the vocalists, for + they tried their best. We except to this charge of dullness the + dramatic love scene where the tolerably broad business concludes + the act. With these facts plain to everyone present we cannot + comprehend the announcement of the success of _Faust_! + +Who was it said "the world goes round with revolutions"? It is a great +truth, whoever said it. Every new step in art, in progress along any +line, has cost something and has been fought for. Nothing fresh or good +has ever come into existence without a convulsion of the old, dried-up +forms. Beethoven was a revolutionist when he threw aside established +musical forms with the _Ninth Symphony_; Wagner was a revolutionist when +he contrived impossible intervals of the eleventh and the thirteenth, +and called them for the first time dissonant harmonies; so, also, was +Gounod when he departed from all accepted operatic forms and +institutions in _Faust_. + +You who have heard _Cari fior_ upon the hand-organs in the street, and +have whistled the _Soldiers' Chorus_ while you were in school; who have +even grown to regard the opera of _Faust_ as old-fashioned and of light +weight, must re-focus your glass a bit and look at Gounod's masterpiece +from the point of view of nearly fifty years ago! It was just as +startling, just as strange, just as antagonistic to our established +musical habit as Strauss and Debussy and Dukas are to some persons +to-day. What is new must always be strange, and what is strange must, +except to a few adventurous souls, prove to be disturbing and, hence, +disagreeable. People say "it is different, therefore it must be wrong." +Even as battle, murder, and sudden death are upsetting to our lives, so +Gounod's bold harmonies, sweeping airs, and curious orchestration were +upsetting to the public ears. + +Not the public alone, either. Though from the first I was attracted and +fascinated by the "new music," it puzzled me vastly. Also, I found it +very difficult to sing. I, who had been accustomed to Linda and Gilda +and Martha, felt utterly at sea when I tried to sing what at that time +seemed to me the remarkable intervals of this strange, new, operatic +heroine, Marguerite. In the simple Italian school one knew approximately +what was ahead. A _recitative_ was a fairly elementary affair. An _aria_ +had no unexpected cadences, led to no striking nor unusual effects. But +in _Faust_ the musical intelligence had an entirely new task and was +exercised quite differently from in anything that had gone before. This +sequence of notes was a new and unlearned language to me, which I had to +master before I could find freedom or ease. But when once mastered, how +the music enchanted me; how it satisfied a thirst that had never been +satisfied by Donizetti or Bellini! Musically, I loved the part of +Marguerite--and I still love it. Dramatically, I confess to some +impatience over the imbecility of the girl. From the first I summarily +apostrophised her to myself as "a little fool!" + +Stupidity is really the keynote of Marguerite's character. She was not +quite a peasant--she and her brother owned their house, showing that +they belonged to the stolid, sound, sheltered burgher class. On the +other hand, she explicitly states to Faust that she is "not a lady and +needs no escort." In short, she was the ideal victim and was selected as +such by Mephistopheles who, whatever else he may have been, was a judge +of character. Marguerite was an easy dupe. She was entirely without +resisting power. She was dull, and sweet, and open to flattery. She +liked pretty things, with no more discrimination or taste than other +girls. She was a well-brought-up but uneducated young person of an +ignorant age and of a stupid class, and innocent to the verge of idiocy. + +I used to try and suggest the peasant blood in Marguerite by little +shynesses and awkwardnesses. After the first meeting with Faust I would +slyly stop and glance back at him with girlish curiosity to see what he +looked like. People found this "business" very pretty and convincing, +but I understand that I did not give the typically Teutonic bourgeois +impression as well as Federici, a German soprano who was heard in +America after me. She was of the class of Gretchen, and doubtless found +it easier to act like a peasant unused to having fine gentlemen speak to +her, than I did. + +There was very little general enthusiasm before the production of +_Faust_. There were so few American musicians then that no one knew nor +cared about the music. Neither was the poem so well read as it was +later. The public went to the opera houses to hear popular singers and +familiar airs. They had not the slightest interest in a new opera from +an artistic standpoint. + +I had never been allowed to read Goethe's poem until I began to study +Marguerite. But even my careful mother was obliged to admit that I would +have to familiarise myself with the character before I interpreted it. +It is doubtful, even then, if I entered fully into the emotional and +psychological grasp of the _rôle_. All that part of it was with me +entirely mental. I could seize the complete mental possibilities of a +character and work them out intelligently long before I had any +emotional comprehension of them. As a case in point, when I sang Gilda I +gave a perfectly logical presentation of the character, but I am very +sure that I had not the least notion of what the latter part of +_Rigoletto_ meant. Fear, grief, love, courage,--these were emotions that +I could accept and with which I could work; but I was still too immature +to have much conception of the great sex complications that underlay the +opera that I sang so peacefully. And I dare say that one reason why I +played Marguerite so well was because I was so ridiculously innocent +myself. + +Most of the Marguerites whom I have seen make her too sophisticated, too +complicated. The moment they get off the beaten path, they go to +extremes like Calvé and Farrar. It is very pleasant to be original and +daring in a part, but anything original or daring in connection with +Marguerite is a little like mixing red pepper with vanilla _blanc +mange_. Nilsson, even, was too--shall I say, _knowing_? It seems the +only word that fits my meaning. Nilsson was much the most attractive of +all the Marguerites I have ever seen, yet she was altogether too +sophisticated for the character and for the period, although to-day I +suppose she would be considered quite mild. Lucca was an absolute little +devil in the part. She was, also, one of the Marguerites who wore black +hair. As for Patti--I have a picture of Adelina as Marguerite in which +she looks like Satan's own daughter, a young and feminine Mephistopheles +to the life. Once I heard _Faust_ in the Segundo Teatro of Naples with +Alice Neilson, and thought she gave a charming performance. She was +greatly helped by not having to wear a wig. A wig, however becoming, and +no matter how well put on, does certainly do something strange to the +expression of a woman's face. This was what I had to have--a wig--and it +was one of the most dreadful difficulties in my preparations for the +great new part. + +[Illustration: =Clara Louise Kellogg as Marguerite, 1865= + +From a photograph by Sarony] + +A wig may sound like a simple requirement. But I wonder if anybody has +any idea how difficult it was to get a good wig in those days. Nobody in +America knew how to make one. There was no blond hair over here and none +could be procured, none being for sale. The poor affair worn by Mme. +Carvalho as Marguerite, illustrates what was then considered a +sufficient wig equipment. It is hardly necessary to add that to my +truth-loving soul no effort was too great to obtain an effect that +should be an improvement on this sort of thing. My own hair was so dark +as to look almost black behind the footlights, and in my mind there was +no doubt that Marguerite must be a blond. To-day _prime donne_ besides +Lucca justify the use of their own dark locks--notably Mme. Eames and +Miss Farrar--but I cannot help suspecting that this comes chiefly from a +wish to be original, to be _different_ at all costs. There is no real +question but that the young German peasant was fair to the flaxen point. +Yet, though I knew how she should be, I found it was simpler as a theory +than as a fact. I tried powders--light brown powder, yellow powder, +finally, gold powder. The latter was little, I imagine, but brass +filings, and it gave the best effect of all my early experiments, +looking, so long as it stayed on my hair, very burnished and sunny. +But--it turned my scalp green! This was probably the verdigris from the +brass filings in the stuff. I was frightened enough to dispense entirely +with the whole gold and green effect; after which I experimented with +all the available wigs, in spite of a popular prejudice against them as +immovable. They were in general composed of hemp rope with about as much +look about them of real hair as--Mme. Carvalho's! I had, finally, to +wait until I could get a wig made in Europe and have it imported. When +it came at last, it was a beauty--although my hair troubles were not +entirely over even then. I had so much hair of my own that all the +braiding and pinning in the world would not eliminate it entirely, and +it had a tendency to stick out in lumps over my head even under the wig, +giving me some remarkable bumps of phrenological development. I will say +that we put it on pretty well in spite of all difficulties, my mother at +last achieving a way of brushing the hair of the wig into my own hair +and combining the two in such a way as to let the real hair act as a +padding and lining to the artificial braids. The result was very good, +but it was, I am inclined to believe, more trouble than it was worth. +Wigs were so rare and, as a rule, so ugly in those days that my big, +blond perruque, that cost nearly $200 (the hair was sold by weight), +caused the greatest sensation. People not infrequently came behind the +scenes and begged to be allowed to examine it. Artists were not nearly +so sacred nor so safe from the public then. Now, it would be impossible +for a stranger to penetrate to a _prima donna's_ dressing-room or hotel +apartment; but we were constantly assailed by the admiring, the critical +and, above all, the curious. + +Of course I did not know what to wear. My old friend Ella Porter was in +Paris at the time and went to see Carvalho in Marguerite, especially on +my account, and sent me rough drawings of her costumes. I did not like +them very well. I next studied von Kaulbach's pictures and those of +other German illustrators, and finally decided on the dress. First, I +chose for the opening act a simple blue and brown frock, such as an +upper-class peasant might wear. Everyone said it ought to be white, +which struck me as singularly out of place. German girls don't wear +frocks that have to be constantly washed. Not even now do they, and I am +certain they had even less laundry work in the period of the story. It +was said that a white gown in the first act would symbolise innocence. +In the face of all comment and suggestion, however, I wore the blue +dress trimmed with brown and it looked very well. Another one of my +points was that I did not try to make Marguerite angelically beautiful. +There is no reason to suppose that she was even particularly pretty. +"Henceforth," says Mephisto to the rejuvenated Faustus, "you will greet +a Helen in every wench you meet!" + +In the church scene I wore grey and, at first, a different shade of +grey in the last act; but I changed this eventually to white because +white looked better when the angels were carrying me up to heaven. + +As for the cut of the dresses, I seem to have been the first person to +wear a bodice that fitted below the waist line like a corset. No living +mortal in America had ever seen such a thing and it became almost as +much of a curiosity as my wonderful golden wig. The theatre costumier +was horrified. She had never cared for my innovations in the way of +costuming, and her tradition-loving Latin soul was shocked to the core +by the new and dreadful make-up I proposed to wear as Marguerite. + +"I make for Grisi," she declared indignantly, "and I _nevair_ see like +dat!" + +Well, I worked and struggled and slaved over every detail. No one else +did. There was no great effort made to have good scenic effects. The +lighting was absurd, and I had to fight for my pot of daisies in the +garden scene. The jewel box I provided myself, and the jewels. I +felt--O, how deeply I felt--that everything in my life, every note I had +sung, every day I had worked, had been merely preparation for this great +and lovely opera. + +Colonel Stebbins, who was anxious, said to Maretzek: + +"Don't you think she had better have a German coach in the part?" + +Maretzek, who had been watching me closely all along, shook his head. + +"Let her alone," he said. "Let her do it her own way." + +So the great night came around. + +There was no public excitement before the production. People knew +nothing about the new opera. On the first night of _Faust_ there was a +good house because, frankly, the public liked me! Nevertheless, in spite +of "me," the house was a little inanimate. The audience felt doubtful. +It was one thing to warm up an old and popular piece; but something +untried was very different! The public had none of the present-day +chivalry toward the first "try-out" of an opera. + +Mazzoleni of the cheese addiction was Faust, and on that first night he +had eaten even more than usual. In fact, he was still eating cheese when +the curtain went up and munched cheese at intervals all through the +laboratory scene. He was a big Italian with a voice as big as himself +and was, in a measure, one of Max Maretzek's "finds." "The Magnificent" +had taken an opera company to Havana when first the war slump came in +operatic affairs, and had made with it a huge success and a wide +reputation. Mazzoleni was one of the leading tenors of that company. He +sang Faust admirably, but dressed it in an atrocious fashion, looking +like a cross between a Jewish rabbi and a Prussian _gene d'arme_. Of +course, he gave no idea of the true age of Faust--the experienced, +mature point of view showing through the outward bloom of his artificial +youth. Very few Fausts do give this; and Mazzoleni suggested it rather +less than most of them. But the public was not enlightened enough to +realise the lack. + +Biachi was Mephistopheles. He was very good and sang the _Calf of Gold_ +splendidly. Yet that solo, oddly enough, never "caught on" with our +houses. Biachi was one of the few artists of my day who gave real +thought and attention to the question of costuming. He took his general +scheme of dress from _Robert le Diable_ and improved on it, and looked +very well indeed. The woman he afterwards married was our contralto, a +Miss Sulzer, an American, who made an excellent Siebel and considered +her work seriously. + +At first everyone was stunned by the new treatment. In ordinary, +accepted operatic form there were certain things to be +expected;--_recitatives_, _andantes_, _arias_, choruses--all neatly laid +out according to rule. In this everything was new, startling, +overthrowing all traditions. About the middle of the evening some of my +friends came behind the scenes to my dressing-room with blank faces. + +"Heavens, Louise," they exclaimed, "what do you do in this opera anyway? +Everyone in the front of the house is asking 'where's the _prima +donna_?'" + +Indeed, an opera in which the heroine has nothing to do until the third +act might well have startled a public accustomed to the old Italian +forms. However, I assured everyone: + +"Don't worry. You'll get more than enough of me before the end of the +evening!" + +The house was not much stirred until the love scene. That was +breathless. We felt more and more that we were beginning to "get them." + +There were no modern effects of lighting; but a calcium was thrown on me +as I stood by the window, and I sang my very, very best. As Mazzoleni +came up to the window and the curtain went down there was a dead +silence. + +Not a hand for ten seconds. Ten seconds is a long time when one is +waiting on the stage. Time and the clock itself seemed to stop as we +stood there motionless and breathless. Maretzek had time to get through +the little orchestra door and up on the stage before the applause came. +We were standing as though paralysed, waiting. We saw Maretzek's pale, +anxious face. The silence held a second longer; then-- + +The house came down. The thunders echoed and beat about our wondering +ears. + +"Success!" gasped Maretzek, "success--success--_success_!" + +Yet read what the critics said about it. The musicians picked it to +pieces, of course, and so did the critics, much as the German reviewers +did Wagner's music dramas. The public came, however, packing the houses +to more than their capacity. People paid seven and eight dollars a seat +to hear that opera, an unheard-of thing in those days when two and three +dollars were considered a very fair price for any entertainment. +Furthermore, only the women occupied the seats on the _Faust_ nights. I +speak in a general way, for there were exceptions. As a rule, however, +this was so, while the men stood up in regiments at the back of the +house. We gave twenty-seven performances of _Faust_ in one season; seven +performances in Boston in four weeks; and I could not help the welcome +knowledge that, in addition to the success of the opera itself, I had +scored a big, personal triumph. + +[Illustration: =Clara Louise Kellogg as Marguerite, 1864= + +From a silhouette by Ida Waugh] + +As I have mentioned, we took wicked liberties with the operas, such as +introducing the _Star Spangled Banner_ and similar patriotic songs into +the middle of Italian scores. I have even seen a highly tragic act of +_Poliuto_ put in between the light and cheery scenes of _Martha_; and I +have myself sung the _Venzano_ waltz at the end of this same _Martha_, +although the real quartette that is supposed to close the opera is much +more beautiful, and the _Clara Louise Polka_ as a finish for _Linda di +Chamounix_! The _Clara Louise Polka_ was written for me by my old +master, Muzio, and I never thought much of it. Nothing could give +anyone so clear an idea of the universal acceptance of this custom of +interpolation as the following criticism, printed during our second +season: + +"The production of _Faust_ last evening by the Maretzek troupe was +excellent indeed. But why, O why, the eternal _Soldiers' Chorus_? Why +this everlasting, tedious march, _when there are so many excellent band +pieces on the market that would fit the occasion better_?" + +As a rule the public were quite satisfied with this chorus. It was +whistled and sung all over the country and never failed to get eager +applause. But no part of the opera ever went so well as the _Salve +dimora_ and the love scene. All the latter part of the garden act went +splendidly although nearly everyone was, or professed to be, shocked by +the frankness of the window episode that closes it. It is a pity those +simple-souled audiences could not have lived to see Miss Geraldine +Farrar draw Faust with her into the house at the fall of the curtain! +There is, indeed, a place for all things. _Faust_ is not the place for +that sort of suggestiveness. It is a question, incidentally, whether any +stage production is; but the argument of that is outside our present +point. + +Dear Longfellow came to see the first performance of _Faust_; and the +next day he wrote a charming letter about it to Mr. James T. Fields of +Boston. Said he: + +"The Margaret was beautiful. She reminded me of Dryden's lines: + + "'So pois'd, so gently she descends from high, + It seems a soft dismission from the sky.'" + + + + +CHAPTER IX + +OPÉRA COMIQUE + + +To most persons "opéra comique" means simply comic opera. If they make +any distinction at all it is to call it "high-class comic opera." As a +matter of fact, tragedy and comedy are hardly farther apart in spirit +than are the rough and farcical stuff that we look upon as comic opera +nowadays and the charming old pieces that formed the true "opéra +comique" some fifty years ago. "Opéra bouffe" even is many degrees below +"opéra comique." Yet "opéra bouffe" is, to my mind, something infinitely +superior and many steps higher than modern comic opera. So we have some +delicate differentiations to make when we go investigating in the fields +of light dramatic music. + +In Paris at the Comique they try to keep the older distinction in mind +when selecting their operas for production. There are exceptions to this +rule, as to others, for play-houses that specialise; but for the most +part these Paris managers choose operas that are light. I use the word +advisedly. By _light_ I mean, literally, _not heavy_. Light music, light +drama, does not necessarily mean humorous. It may, on the contrary, be +highly pathetic and charged with sentiment. The only restriction is that +it shall not be expressed in the stentorian orchestration of a +Meyerbeer, nor in the heart-rending tragedy of a Wagner. In theme and +in treatment, in melodies and in text, it must be of delicate fibre, +something easily seized and swiftly assimilated, something intimate, +perfumed, and agreeable, with no more harshness of emotion than of +harmony. + +Judged by this standard such operas as _Martha_, _La Bohème_, even +_Carmen_--possibly, even _Werther_--are not entirely foreign to the +requirements of "opéra comique." _Le Donne Curiose_ may be considered as +an almost perfect revival and exemplification of the form. A careful +differentiation discovers that humour, a happy ending, and many +rollicking melodies do not at all make an "opéra comique." These +qualities all belong abundantly to _Die Meistersinger_ and to Verdi's +_Falstaff_, yet these great operas are no nearer being examples of +genuine "comique" than _Les Huguenots_ is or _Götterdämmerung_. + +It was my good fortune to sing in the space of a year three delightful +_rôles_ in "opéra comique," each of which I enjoyed hugely. They were +Zerlina in _Fra Diavolo_; Rosina in _Il Barbiere_; and Annetta in +_Crispino e la Comare_. _Fra Diavolo_ was first produced in Italian in +America during the autumn of 1864, the year after I appeared in +Marguerite, and it remained one of our most popular operas throughout +the season of '65-66. I loved it and always had a good time the nights +it was given. We put it on for my "benefit" at the end of the regular +winter season at the Academy. The season closed with the old year and +the "benefit" took place on the 28th of December. The "benefit" custom +was very general in those days. Everybody had one a year and so I had to +have mine, or, at least, Maretzek thought I had to have it. _Fra +Diavolo_ was his choice for this occasion as I had made one of my best +successes in the part of Zerlina, and the opera had been the most liked +in our whole _répertoire_ with the exception of _Faust_. _Faust_ had +remained from the beginning our most unconditional success, our _cheval +de bataille_, and never failed to pack the house. + +I don't know quite why that _Fra Diavolo_ night stands out so happily +and vividly in my memory. I have had other and more spectacular +"benefits"; but that evening there seemed to be the warmest and most +personal of atmospheres in the old Academy. The audience was full of +friends and, what with the glimpses I had of these familiar faces and my +loads of lovely flowers and the kindly, intimate enthusiasm that greeted +my appearance, I felt as if I were at a party and not playing a +performance at all. I had to come out again and again; and finally +became so wrought up that I was nearly in tears. + +As a climax I was entirely overcome when I suddenly turned to find +Maretzek standing beside me in the middle of the stage, smiling at me in +a friendly and encouraging manner. I had not the slightest idea what his +presence there at that moment meant. The applause stopped instantly. +Whereupon "Max the Magnificent" made a little speech in the quick hush, +saying charming and overwhelming things about the young girl whose +musical beginning he had watched and who in a few years had reached "a +high pinnacle in the world of art. The young girl"--he went on to +say--"who at twenty-one was the foremost _prima donna_ of America." + +"And now, my dear Miss Kellogg," he wound up with, holding out to me a +velvet case, "I am instructed by the stockholders of the Opera Company +to hand you this, to remind you of their admiration and their pride in +you!" + +I took the case; and the house cheered and cheered as I lifted out of it +a wonderful flashing diamond bracelet and diamond ring. Of course I +couldn't speak. I could hardly say "thank you." I just ran off with eyes +and heart overflowing to the wings where my mother was waiting for me. + +The bracelet and the ring are among the dearest things I possess. Their +value to me is much greater than any money could be, for they symbolise +my young girl's sudden comprehension of the fact that I had made my +countrymen proud of me! That seemed like the high-water mark; the finest +thing that could happen. + +Annetta was my second creation. There could hardly be imagined a greater +contrast than she presented to the part of Marguerite. Gretchen was all +the virtues in spite of her somewhat spectacular career; gentleness and +sweetness itself. Annetta, the ballad singer, was quite the opposite. I +must say that I really enjoyed making myself shrewish, sparkling, and +audacious. Perhaps I thus took out in the lighter _rôles_ I sang many of +my own suppressed tendencies. Although I lived such an essentially +ungirlish life, I was, nevertheless, full of youthful feeling and high +spirits, so, when I was Annetta or Zerlina or Rosina, I had a flying +chance to "bubble" just a little bit. Merriment is one of the finest and +most helpful emotions in the world and I dare say we all have the +possibilities of it in us, one way or another. But it is a shy sprite +and does not readily come to one's call. I often think that the art, or +the ability,--on the stage or off it--which makes people truly and +innocently gay, is very high in the scale of human importance. +Personally, I have never been happier than when I was frolicking through +some entirely light-weight opera, full of whims and quirks and laughing +music. I used to feel intimately in touch with the whole audience then, +as though they and I were sharing some exquisite secret or delicious +joke; and I would reach a point of ease and spontaneity which I have +never achieved in more serious work. + +_Crispino_ had made a tremendous hit in Paris the year before when +Malibran had sung Annetta with brilliant success. It has been sometimes +said that Grisi created the _rôle_ of Annetta in America; but I still +cling to the claim of that distinction for myself. The composers of the +opera were the Rice brothers. I do not know of any other case where an +opera has been written fraternally; and it was such a highly successful +little opera that I wish I knew more about the two men who were +responsible for it. All that I remember clearly is that they both of +them knew music thoroughly and that one of them taught it as a +profession. + +Our first Cobbler in _Crispino e la Comare_ ("The Cobbler and the +Fairy") was Rovere, a good Italian buffo baritone. He was one of those +extraordinary artists whose art grows and increases with time and, by +some law of compensation, comes more and more to take the place of mere +voice. Rovere was in his prime in 1852 when he sang in America with Mme. +Alboni. Later, when he sang with me, a few of the New York critics +remembered him and knew his work and agreed that he was "as good as +ever." His voice--no. But his art, his method, his delightful +manner--these did not deteriorate. On the contrary, they matured and +ripened. Our second Cobbler, Ronconi, was even more remarkable. He was, +I believe, one of the finest Italian baritones that ever lived, and he +succeeded in getting a degree of genuine high comedy out of the part +that I have never seen surpassed. He used to tell of himself a story of +the time when he was singing in the Royal Opera of Petersburg. The +Czar--father of the one who was murdered--said to him once: + +"Ronconi, I understand that you are so versatile that you can express +tragedy with one side of your face when you are singing and comedy with +the other. How do you do it?" + +"Your Majesty," rejoined Ronconi, "when I sing _Maria de Rohan_ +to-morrow night I will do myself the honour of showing you." + +And, accordingly, the next evening he managed to turn one side of his +face, grim as the Tragic Mask, to the audience, while the other, which +could be seen from only the Imperial Box, was excessively humorous and +cheerful. The Czar was greatly amused and delighted with the exhibition. + +Once in London, Santley was talking with me about this great baritone +and said: + +"Ronconi did something with a phrase in the sextette of _Lucia_ that I +have gone to hear many and many a night. I never could manage to catch +it or comprehend how he gave so much power and expression to + +[Illustration: Musical notation; Ah! è mio san-gue, l'ho-tra-di-ta!] + +Ronconi was deliciously amusing, also, as the Lord in _Fra Diavolo_. He +sang it with me the first time it was ever done here in Italian, when +Theodor Habelmann was our Diavolo. Though he was a round-faced German, +he was so dark of skin and so finely built that he made up excellently +as an Italian; and he had been thoroughly trained in the splendid school +of German light opera. He was really picturesque, especially in a +wonderful fall he made from one precipice to another. We were not +accustomed to falls on the stage over here, and had never seen anything +like it. Ronconi sang with me some years later, as well, when I gave +English opera throughout the country, and I came to know him quite well. +He was a man of great elegance and decorum. + +"You know," he said to me once, "I'm a sly dog--a very sly dog indeed! +When I sing off the key on the stage or do anything like that, I always +turn and look in an astounded manner at the person singing with me as if +to say 'what on earth did you do that for?' and the other artist, +perfectly innocent, invariably looks guilty! O, I'm a _very_ sly dog!" + +_Don Pasquale_ was another of our "opéra comique" ventures, as well as +_La Dame Blanche_ and _Masaniello_. It was a particularly advantageous +choice at the time because it required neither chorus nor orchestra. We +sang it with nothing but a piano by way of accompaniment; which possibly +was a particularly useful arrangement for us when we became short of +cash, for we--editorially, or, rather, managerially speaking--were +rather given in those early seasons to becoming suddenly "hard up," +especially when to the poor operatic conditions, engendered +spasmodically by the war news, was added the wet blanket of Lent which, +in those days, was observed most rigidly. + +Of the three _rôles_, Zerlina, Rosina, and Annetta, I always preferred +that of Rosina. It was one of my best _rôles_, the music being +excellently placed for me. _Il Barbiere_ had led the school of "opéra +comique" for years, but soon, one after the other, the new +operas--notably _Crispino_--were hailed as the legitimate successor of +_Il Barbiere_, and their novelty gave them a drawing power in advance of +their rational value. In addition to my personal liking for the _rôle_ +of Rosina, I always felt that, although the other operas were charming +in every way, they musically were not quite in the class with Rossini's +masterpiece. The light and delicate qualities of this form of operatic +art have never been given so perfectly as by him. I wish _Il Barbiere_ +were more frequently heard. + +Yet I was fond of _Fra Diavolo_ too. I was forever working at the _rôle_ +of Zerlina or, rather, playing at it, for the old "opéra comique" was +never really work to me. It was all infectious and inspiring; the music +full of melody; the story light and pretty. Many of the critics said +that I ought to specialise in comedy, cut out my tragic and romantic +_rôles_, and attempt even lighter music and characterisation than +Zerlina. People seemed particularly to enjoy my "going to bed" scene. +They praised my "neatness and daintiness" and found the whole picture +very pretty and attractive. I used to take off my skirt first, shake it +well, hang it on a nail, then discover a spot and carefully rub it out. +That little bit of "business" always got a laugh--I do not quite know +why. Then I would take off my bodice dreamily as I sang: +"To-morrow--yes, to-morrow I am to be married!" + +[Illustration: Musical notation; Si, do-ma-ni, Si, do-ma-ni sa-rem +ma-ri-to e moghi,] + +One night while I was carrying the candle in that scene a gust of wind +from the wings made the flame gutter badly and a drop of hot grease fell +on my hand. Instinctively I jumped and shook my hand without thinking +what I was doing. There was a perfect gale of laughter from the house. +After that, I always pretended to drop the grease on my hand, always +gave the little jump, and always got my laugh. + +As I say, nearly everybody liked that scene. I was myself so girlish +that it never struck anybody as particularly suggestive or immodest +until one night an old couple from the country came to see the opera and +created a mild sensation by getting up and going out in the middle of +it. The old man was heard to say, as he hustled his meek spouse up the +aisle of the opera house: + +"Mary, we'd better get out of this! It may be all right for city folks, +but it's no place for us. We may be green; but, by cracky,--we're +_decent_!" + + + + +CHAPTER X + +ANOTHER SEASON AND A LITTLE MORE SUCCESS + + +One of the pleasant affairs that came my way that year was Sir Morton +Peto's banquet in October. Sir Morton was a distinguished Englishman who +represented big railway interests in Great Britain and who was then +negotiating some new and important railroading schemes on this side of +the water. There were two hundred and fifty guests; practically +everybody present, except my mother and myself, standing for some large +financial power of the United States. I felt much complimented at being +invited, for it was at a period when very great developments were in the +making. America was literally teeming with new projects and plans and +embryonic interests. + +The banquet was given at Delmonico's, then at Fifth Avenue and +Fourteenth Street, and the rooms were gorgeous in their drapings of +American and English flags. The war was about drawing to its close and +patriotism was at white heat. The influential Americans were in the mood +to wave their banners and to exchange amenities with foreign potentates. +Sir Morton was a noted capitalist and his banquet was a sort of "hands +across the sea" festival. He used, I recall, to stop at the Clarendon, +now torn down and its site occupied by a commercial "sky scraper," but +then the smart hostelry of the town. + +I sang that night after dinner. My services had not been engaged +professionally, so, when Sir Morton wanted to reward me lavishly, I of +course did not care to have him do so. We were still so new to _prime +donne_ in New York that we had no social code or precedent to refer to +with regard to them; and I preferred, personally, to keep the episode on +a purely friendly and social basis. I was an invited guest only who had +tried to do her part for the entertainment of the others. I was +honoured, too. It was an experience to which anyone could look back with +pride and pleasure. + +But, being English, Sir Morton Peto had a solution and, within a day or +two, sent me an exquisite pearl and diamond bracelet. It is odd how much +more delicately and graciously than Americans all foreigners--of +whatever nationality indeed--can relieve a situation of awkwardness and +do the really considerate and appreciative thing which makes such a +situation all right. I later found the same tactful qualities in the +Duke of Newcastle who, with his family, were among the closest friends I +had in England. Indeed, I was always much impressed with the good taste +of English men and women in this connection. + +An instance of the American fashion befell me during the winter of +'63-'64 on the occasion of a big reception that was given by the father +of Brander Matthews. I was invited to go and asked to sing, my host +saying that if I would not accept a stipulated price he would be only +too glad to make me a handsome present of some kind. The occasion turned +out to be very unfortunate and unpleasant altogether, both at the time +and with regard to the feeling that grew out of it. I happened to wear a +dress that was nearly new, a handsome and expensive gown, and this was +completely ruined by a servant upsetting melted ice cream over it. My +host and hostess were all concern, saying that, as they were about to go +to Paris, they would buy me a new one. I immediately felt that if they +did this, they would consider the dress as an equivalent for my singing +and that I should never hear anything more of the handsome present. Of +course I said nothing of this, however, to anyone. Well--they went to +Paris. Days and weeks passed. I heard nothing from them about either +dress or present. I went to Europe. They called on me in Paris. In the +course of time we all came home to America; and the night after my +return I received a long letter and a set of Castilian gold jewelry, +altogether inadequate as an equivalent. There was nothing to do but to +accept it, which I did, and then proceeded to give away the ornaments as +I saw fit. The whole affair was uncomfortable and a discredit to my +entertainers. Not only had I lost a rich dress through the carelessness +of one of their servants, but I received a very tardy and inadequate +recompense for my singing. I had refused payment in money because it was +the custom to do so. But I was a professional singer, and I had been +asked to the reception as a professional entertainer. This, however, I +must add, is the most flagrant case that has ever come under my personal +notice of an American host or hostess failing to "make good" at the +expense of a professional. + +Well--from time to time after Sir Morton's banquet, I sang in concert. +On one occasion I replaced Euphrosyne Parepa--she had not then married +Carl Rosa--at one of the Bateman concerts. The Meyerbeer craze was then +at its height. Good, sound music it was too, if a little brazen and +noisy. _L'Étoile du Nord_ (I don't understand why we always speak of it +as _L'Étoile du Nord_ when we never once sang it in French) had been +sung in America by my old idol, Mme. de la Grange, nearly ten years +before I essayed Catarina. My _première_ in the part was given in +Philadelphia; but almost immediately we came back to New York for the +spring opera season and I sang _The Star_ as principal attraction. Later +on I sang it in Boston. + +It was always good fun playing in Boston, for the Harvard boys adored +"suping" and we had our extra men almost without the asking. They were +such nice, clean, enthusiastic chaps! The reason why I remember them so +clearly is that I never can forget how surprised I was when, in the boat +at the end of the first act of _The Star of the North_, I chanced to +look down and caught sight of Peter Barlow (now Judge Barlow) grinning +up at me from a point almost underneath me on the stage, and how I +nearly fell out of the boat! + +We had difficulty in finding a satisfactory Prascovia. Prascovia is an +important soprano part, and had to be well taken. At last Albites +suggested a pupil of his. This was Minnie Hauck. Prascovia was sung at +our first performance by Mlle. Bososio who was not equal to the part. +Minnie Hauck came into the theatre and sang a song of Meyerbeer's, and +we knew that we had found our Prascovia. Her voice was very light but +pleasing and well-trained, for Albites was a good teacher. She +undoubtedly would add value to our cast. So she made her _début_ as +Prascovia, although she afterwards became better known to the public as +one of the most famous of the early Carmens. Indeed, many people +believed that she created that _rôle_ in America although, as a matter +of fact, I sang Carmen several months before she did. As Prascovia she +and I had a duet together, very long and elaborate, which we introduced +after the tent scene and which made an immense hit. We always received +many flowers after it--I, particularly, to be quite candid. By this time +I was called The Flower Prima Donna because of the quantities of +wonderful blossoms that were sent to me night after night. When singing +_The Star of the North_ there was one bouquet that I was sure of getting +regularly from a young man who always sent the same kind of flowers. I +never needed a card on them or on the box to know from whom they came. +Miss Hauck used to help me pick up my bouquets. The only trouble was +that every one she picked up she kept! As a rule I did not object, and, +anyway, I might have had difficulty in proving that she had appropriated +my flowers after she had taken the cards off: but one night she included +in her general haul my own special, unmistakable bouquet! I recognised +it, saw her take it, but, as there was no card, had the greatest +difficulty in getting it away from her. I did, though, in the end. + +Minnie Hauck was very pushing and took advantage of everything to +forward and help herself. She never had the least apprehension about the +outcome of anything in which she was engaged and, in this, she was +extremely fortunate, for most persons cursed with the artistic +temperament are too sensitive to feel confident. She was clever, too. +This is another exception, for very few big singers are clever. I think +it is Mme. Maeterlinck who has made use of the expression "too clever to +sing well." I am convinced that there is quite a truth in it as well as +a sarcasm. Wonderful voices usually are given to people who are, +intrinsically, more or less nonentities. One cannot have everything in +this world, and people with brains are not obliged to sing! But Minnie +Hauck was a singer and she was also clever. If I remember rightly, she +married some scientific foreign baron and lived afterwards in Lucerne. + +Once I heard of a soldier who was asked to describe Waterloo and who +replied that his whole impression of the battle consisted of a mental +picture of the kind of button that was on the coat of the man in front +of him. It is so curiously true that one's view of important events is +often a very small one,--especially when it comes to a matter of mere +memory. Accordingly, I find my amethysts are almost my most vivid +recollection in connection with _L'Étoile du Nord_. I wanted a set of +really handsome stage jewelry for Catarina. In fact, I had been looking +for such a set for some time. There are many _rôles_, Violetta for +instance, for which rich jewels are needed. My friends were on the +lookout for me, also, and it was while I was preparing for _The Star of +the North_ that a man I knew came hurrying in with a wonderful tale of a +set of imitation amethysts that he had discovered, and that were, he +thought, precisely what I was looking for. + +"The man who has them," he told me, "bought them at a bankrupt sale for +ninety-six dollars and they are a regular white elephant to him. Of +course, they are suitable only for the stage; and he has been hunting +for months for some actress who would buy them. You'd better take a look +at them, anyhow." + +I had the set sent to me and, promptly, went wild over it. The stones, +that ranged from the size of a bean to that of a large walnut, appeared +to be as perfect as genuine amethysts, and the setting--genuine soft, +old, worked gold--was really exquisite. There were seventy stones in +the whole set, which included a necklace, a bracelet, a large brooch, +ear-rings and a most gorgeous tiara. The colour of the gems was very +deep and lovely, bordering on a claret tone rather than violet. The +crown was apparently symbolic or suggestive of some great house. It was +made of roses, shamrocks, and thistles, and every piece in the set was +engraved with a small hare's head. I wish I knew heraldry and could tell +to whom the lovely ornaments had first belonged. Of course I bought +them, paying one hundred and fifty dollars for the set, which the man +was glad enough to get. I wore it in _The Star_ and in other operas, and +one day I took it down to Tiffany's to have it cleaned and repaired. + +The man there, who knew me, examined it with interest. + +"It will cost you one hundred and seventy dollars," he informed me. + +"What!" I gasped. "That is more than the whole set is worth!" + +He looked at me as if he thought I must be a little crazy. + +"Miss Kellogg," he said, "if you think that, I don't believe you know +what you've really got. What do you think this jewelry is really worth?" + +"I don't know," I admitted. "What do you think it is worth?" + +"Roughly speaking," he replied, "I should say about six thousand +dollars. The workmanship is of great value, and every one of the stones +is genuine." + +Through all these years, therefore, I have been fearful that some Rip +Van Winkle claimant might rise up and take my beloved amethysts away +from me! + +My general impressions of this period of my life include those of the +two great pianists, Thalberg and Gottschalk. They were both wonderful, +although I always admired Gottschalk more than the former. Thalberg had +the greater technique; Gottschalk the greater charm. Sympathetically, +the latter musician was better equipped than the former. The very +simplest thing that Gottschalk played became full of fascination. +Thalberg was marvellously perfect as to his method; but it was +Gottschalk who could "play the birds off the trees and the heart out of +your breast," as the Irish say. Thalberg's work was, if I may put it so, +mental; Gottschalk's was temperamental. + +Gottschalk was one of the first big pianists to come to New York +touring. He was from New Orleans, having been born there in the French +Quarter, and spoke only French, like so many persons from that city up +to thirty years ago. But he had been educated abroad and always ranked +as a foreign artist. He must have been a Jew, from his name. Certainly, +he looked like one. He had peculiarly drooping eyelids and was +considered to be very attractive. He wrote enchanting Spanish-sounding +songs; and gave the banjo quite a little dignity by writing a piece +imitating it, much to my delight, because of my fondness for that +instrument. He was in no way a classical pianist. Thalberg was. Indeed, +they were altogether different types. Thalberg was nothing like so +interesting either as a personality or as a musician, although he was +much more scholarly than his predecessor. I say predecessor, because +Thalberg followed Gottschalk in the touring proposition. Gottschalk +began his work before I began mine, and I first sang with him in my +second season. He and I figured in the same concerts not only in those +early days but also much later. + +[Illustration: =Gottschalk= + +Photograph by Case & Getchell] + +Gottschalk was a gay deceiver and women were crazy about him. Needless +to say, my mother never let me have anything to do with him except +professionally. He was pursued by adoring females wherever he went and +inundated with letters from girls who had lost their hearts to his +exquisite music and magnetic personality. I shall always remember +Gottschalk and Brignoli comparing their latest love letters from matinée +girls. Some poor, silly maiden had written to Gottschalk asking for a +meeting at any place he would appoint. Said Gottschalk: + +"It would be rather fun to make a date with her at some absurd, +impossible place,--say a ferry-boat, for instance." + +"Nonsense," said Brignoli, "a ferry-boat is not romantic enough. She +wouldn't think of coming to a ferry-boat to meet her ideal!" + +"She would come anywhere," declared Gottschalk, not at all +vaingloriously, but as one stating a simple truth. "I'll make her come; +and you shall come too and see her do it!" + +"Will you bet?" asked Brignoli. + +"I certainly will," replied Gottschalk. + +They promptly put up quite a large sum of money and Gottschalk won. That +dear, miserable goose of a girl did go to the ferry-boat to meet the +illustrious pianist of her adoration, and Brignoli was there to see. If +only girls knew as much as I do about the way in which their stage +heroes take their innocent adulation, and the wicked light-heartedness +with which they make fun of it! But they do not; and the only way to +teach them, I suppose, is to let them learn by themselves, poor little +idiots. + +As I look back I feel a continual sense of outrage that I mixed so +little with the people and affairs that were all about me; interesting +people and important affairs. My dear mother adored me. It is strange +that we can never even be adored in the particular fashion in which we +would prefer to be adored! My mother's way was to guard me eternally; +she would have called it protecting me. But, really, it was a good deal +like shutting me up in a glass case, and it was a great pity. My mother +was an extraordinarily fine woman, upright as the day and of an unusual +mentality. Uncompromising she was, not unnaturally, according to her +heritage of race and creed and generation. Yet I sometimes question if +she were as uncompromising as she used to seem to me, for was not the +life she led with me, as well as her acceptance of it in the beginning, +one long compromise between her nature and the actualities? At any rate, +where she seemed to draw the line was in keeping me as much as possible +aloof from my inevitable associates. I led a deadly dull and virtuous +life, of necessity. To be sure, I might have been just as virtuous or +even more so had I been left to my own devices and judgments; but I +contend that such a life is not up to much when it is compulsory. +Personal responsibility is necessary to development. Perhaps I reaped +certain benefits from my mother's close chaperonage. Certainly, if there +were benefits about it, I reaped them. But I very much question its +ultimate advantage to me, and I confess freely that one of the things I +most regret is the innocent, normal coquetry which is the birthright of +every happy girl and which I entirely missed. It is all very well to be +carefully guarded and to be made the archetype of American virtue on the +stage, but there is a great deal of entirely innocuous amusement that I +might have had and did not have, which I should have been better off +for having. My mother could hardly let me hold a friendly conversation +with a man--much less a flirtation. + +[Illustration: =Jane Elizabeth Crosby= + +Mother of Clara Louise Kellogg + +From a tintype] + + + + +CHAPTER XI + +THE END OF THE WAR + + +The Civil War was now coming to its close. Abraham Lincoln was the hero +of the day, as he has been of all days since, in America. The White +House was besieged with people from all walks of life, persistently +anxious to shake hands with the War President, and he used to have to +stand, for incredible lengths of time, smiling and hand-clasping. But he +was ever a fine economist of energy and he flatly refused to talk. No +one could get out of him more than a smile, a nod, or possibly a brief +word of greeting. + +One man made a bet that he would have some sort of conversation with the +President while he was shaking hands with him. + +"No, you won't," said the man to whom he was speaking, "I'll bet you +that you won't get more than two words out of him!" + +"I bet I will," said the venturesome one; and he set off to try his +luck. + +He went to the White House reception and, when his turn came and his +hand was in the huge presidential grasp, he began to talk hastily and +volubly, hoping to elicit some response. Lincoln listened a second, +gazing at him gravely with his deep-set eyes, and then he laid an +enormous hand in a loose, wrinkled white glove across his back. + +"Don't dwell!" said he gently to his caller; and shoved him along, +amiably but relentlessly, with the rest of the line. So the man got only +his two words after all. + +One week before the President was murdered I was in Washington and sat +in the exact place in which he sat when he was shot. It was the same +box, the same chair, and on Friday too,--one week to the day and hour +before the tragedy. When I heard the terrible news I was able to picture +exactly what it had been like. I could see just the jump that Booth must +have had to make to get away. I never knew Wilkes Booth personally nor +saw him act, but I have several times seen him leaving his theatre after +a performance, with a raft of adoring matinée girls forming a more or +less surreptitous guard afar off. He was a tremendously popular idol and +strikingly handsome. Even after his wicked crime there were many women +who professed a sort of hysterical sympathy and pity for him. Somebody +has said that there would always be at least one woman at the death-bed +of the worst criminal in the world if she could get to it; and there +were hundreds of the sex who would have been charmed to watch beside +Booth's, bad as he was and crazy into the bargain. It is a mysterious +thing, the fascination that criminals have for some people, particularly +women. Perhaps it is fundamentally a respect for accomplishment; +admiration for the doing of something, good or evil, that they would not +dare to do themselves. + +We had all gone to Chicago for our spring opera season and were ready to +open, when the tragic tidings came and shut down summarily upon every +preparation for amusement of any kind. Every city in the Union went into +mourning for the man whom the country idolised; of whom so many people +spoke as _our_ "Abraham Lincoln." Perhaps it was because of this +universal and almost personal affection that the authorities did such an +odd thing--or, at least, it struck me as odd,--with his body. He was +taken all over the country and "lay-in-state," as it is called, in +different court houses in different states. + +I was stopping in the Grand Pacific Hotel when the body was brought to +Chicago, and my windows overlooked the grounds of the Court House of +that city. Business was entirely suspended, not simply for a few +memorial moments as was the case when President McKinley was killed, but +for many hours during the "lying-in-state." This, however, was probably +only partly official. Everyone was so afraid that he would not be able +to see the dead hero's face that business men all over the town +suspended occupation, closed shops and offices, and made a pilgrimage to +the Court House. All citizens were permitted to go into the building and +look upon the Martyr President, and vast numbers availed themselves of +the privilege--waited all night, indeed, to claim it. From sunset to +sunrise the grounds were packed with a silent multitude. The only sound +to be heard was the shuffling echo of feet as one person after another +went quietly into the Court House, shuffle, shuffle, shuffle,--I can +hear it yet. There was not a word uttered. There was no other sound than +the sound of the passing feet. One thing that must have been official +was that, for quite a long time, not a wheel in the city was allowed to +turn. This was an impressive tribute to a man whom the whole American +nation loved and counted a friend. + +The only diversion in the whole melancholy solemnity of it all was the +picking of pockets. The crowds were enormous, the people in a mood of +sentiment and off their guard, and the army of crooks did a thriving +business. It is a sickening thing to realise that in all hours of great +national tragedy or terror there will always be people degenerate enough +to take advantage of the suffering and ruin about them. Burning or +plague-stricken cities have to be put under military law; and it is said +that to the multiplied horrors of the San Francisco earthquake the +people look back with a shudder to the ghastly system of looting which +prevailed afterwards in the stricken city. + +Every imaginable kind of flowers were sent to the dead President, +splendid wreaths and bouquets from distinguished personages, and many +little cheap humble nosegays from poor people who had loved him even +from afar and wanted to honour him in some simple way. No man has ever +been loved more in his death than was Abraham Lincoln. + +I sent a cross of white camellias. I do not like camellias when they are +sent to me, because they always seem such heartless, soulless flowers +for living people to wear. But just for that reason, just because they +are the most perfect and the most impersonal of all flowers that grow +and blossom they seem right and suitable for death. Ever since that time +I have associated white camellias with the thought of Abraham Lincoln +and with my strange, impressive memory of those days in Chicago. + +However, nations go on even after the beloved rulers of them are laid in +the ground. Our Chicago season opened soon--I in Lucia--and everything +went along as though nothing had happened. The only difference was that +the end of the war had made the nation a little drunk with excitement +and our performances went with a whirl. + +Finally the victorious generals, Lieutenant-General Grant and +Major-General Sherman, came to Chicago as the guests of the city and we +gave a gala performance for them. As the _Daughter of the Regiment_ had +been our choice to inaugurate the commencement of the great conflict, so +the _Daughter of the Regiment_ was also our choice to commemorate its +close. The whole opera house was gay with flags and flowers and +decorations, and the generals were given the two stage boxes, one on +each side of the house. The audience began to come in very early; and it +was a huge one. The curtain had not yet risen--indeed, I was in my +dressing-room still making-up--when I heard the orchestra break into +_See the Conquering Hero Comes_, and then the roof nearly came off with +the uproar of the people cheering. I sent to find out what was +happening, and was told that General Grant had just entered his box. We +were ridiculously excited behind the scenes, all of us; even the +foreigners. They were such emotional creatures that they flung +themselves into a mood of general excitement even when it was based on a +patriotism to which they were aliens. The wild and jubilant state of the +audience infected us. I had felt something of the same emotion in +Washington at the beginning of the war, when we had done _Figlia_ +before, to the frantically enthusiastic houses there. Yet that was +different. Mingled with that feeling there had been a grimness and pain +and apprehension. Now everyone was triumphant and happy and emotionally +exultant. + +General Sherman came into his box early in the first act and the +orchestra had to stop while the house cheered him, and cheered again. +Sherman was always just a bit theatrical and loved applause, and he, +with his staff, stood bowing and smiling and bowing and smiling. The +whole proceeding took almost the form of a great military reception. As +I look back at it, I think one of the moments of the evening was created +by our basso, Susini. Susini--himself a soldier of courage and +experience, a veteran of the Italian rebellion--made his entrance, +walked forward, stood, faced one General after the other and saluted +each with the most military exactness. They were both plainly delighted; +while the house, in the mood to be moved by little touches, broke into +the heartiest applause. + +I had a moment of triumph also when we sang the _Rataplan, rataplan_. +Since the early hit I had made with my drum I always played it as the +Daughter of the Regiment, and when we came to this scene I directed the +drum first toward one box and then toward the other, as I gave the +rolling salute. The audience went mad again; and again the orchestra had +to stop until the clapping and the hurrahs had subsided. It may not have +been a great operatic performance but it was a great evening! Such +moments written about afterwards in cold words lose their thrill. They +bring up no pictures except to those who have lived them. But on a night +such as that, one's heart seems like a musical instrument, wonderfully +played upon. + +Between the acts the two distinguished officers came behind the scenes +and were introduced to the artists, making pleasant speeches to us all. +Immediately, I liked best the personality of General Grant. There was +nothing the least spectacular or egotistical about him; he was +absolutely simple and quiet and unaffected. He bewildered me by +apologising courteously for not being able to shake hands with me. + +"You have had an accident to your hand!" I exclaimed. + +"Not exactly an accident," he said, smiling. "I think I may call it +design!" + +He explained that he had shaken hands with so many people that he could +not use his right hand for a while. He held it out for me to see and, +sure enough, it was terribly swollen and inflamed and must have been +very painful. + +The great evening came to an end at last. We were not sorry on the whole +for, thrilling as it had been, it had been also very tiring. I wonder if +such mad, national excitement could come to people to-day? I cannot +quite imagine an opera performance being conducted on similar lines in +the Metropolitan Opera House. Perhaps, however, it is not because we are +less enthusiastic but because our events are less dramatic. + +In recalling General Sherman I find myself thinking of him chiefly in +the later years of my acquaintance with him. After that Chicago night, +he never failed to look me up when I sang in any city where he was and +we grew to be good friends. He was always quite enthusiastic about +operatic music; much more so than General Grant. He confided to me once +that above all songs he especially disliked _Marching through Georgia_, +and that, naturally, was the song he was constantly obliged to listen +to. People, of course, thought it must be, or ought to be, his favourite +melody. But he hated the tune as well as the words. He was desperately +tired of the song and, above all, he detested what it stood for, and +what it forced him to recall. + +[Illustration: =General William Tecumseh Sherman, 1877= + +From a photograph by Mora] + +Like nearly all great soldiers, Sherman was naturally a gentle person +and saddened by war. Everything connected with fighting brought to him +chiefly the recollection of its horrors and tragedies and always filled +him with pain. So it was that his real heart's preference was for such +simple, old-fashioned, plantation-evoking, country-smelling airs as _The +Little Old Log Cabin in the Lane_. One day during his many visits to our +home he asked me to sing this and, when I informed him that I could not +because I did not know and did not have the words, he said he would send +them to me. This he did; and I took pains after that never to forget his +preference. + +[Illustration: Musical notation; In de lit-tle old log cab-in in de +lane.] + +One night when I was singing in a concert in Washington, I caught sight +of him sitting quietly in the audience. He did not even know that I had +seen him. Presently the audience wanted an encore and, as was my custom +in concerts, I went to the piano to play my own accompaniment. I turned +and, meeting the General's eyes, smiled at him. Then I sang his beloved +_Little Old Log Cabin_. My reward was his beaming expression of +appreciation. He was easily touched by such little personal tributes. + +"Why on earth did you sing that queer old song, Louise," someone asked +me when I was back behind the scenes again. + +"It was an official request," I replied mysteriously. The end of the war +was a strenuous time for the nation; and for actors and singers among +others. The combination of work and excitement sent me up to New +Hartford in sore need of my summer's rest. But I think, of all the many +diverse impressions which that spring made upon my memory, the one that +I still carry with me most unforgetably, is a _sound_:--the sound of +those shuffling feet, shuffle, shuffle, shuffle,--in the Court House +grounds in Chicago: a sound like a great sea or forest in a wind as the +people of the nation went in to look at their President whom they loved +and who was dead. + + + + +CHAPTER XII + +AND SO--TO ENGLAND! + + +The following season was one of concerts and not remarkably enjoyable. +In retrospect I see but a hurried jumble of work until our decision, in +the spring, to go to England. + +For two or three years I had wanted to try my wings on the other side of +the world. Several matters had interfered and made it temporarily +impossible, chiefly an unfortunate business agreement into which I had +entered at the very outset of my professional career. During the second +season that I sang, an _impresario_, a Jew named Ulman, had made me an +offer to go abroad and sing in Paris and elsewhere. Being very eager to +forge ahead, it seemed like a satisfactory arrangement, and I signed a +contract binding myself to sing under Ulman's management _if I went +abroad_ any time in three years. When I came to think it over, I +regretted this arrangement exceedingly. I felt that the _impresario_ was +not the best one for me. To say the least, I came to doubt his ability. +At any rate, because of this complication, I voluntarily tied myself up +to Max Maretzek for several years and felt it a release as now I could +not tour under Ulman even if I cared to. By 1867, however, my Ulman +contract had expired and I was free to do as I pleased. I had no +contract abroad to be sure, nor any very definite prospects, but I +determined to go to England on a chance and see what developed. At any +rate I should have the advantage of being able to consult foreign +teachers and to improve my method. The uncertainties of my professional +outlook did not disturb me in the least. Indeed, what I really wanted +was, like any other girl, to go abroad, as the gentleman in the +old-fashioned ballad says: + + ... to go abroad; + To go strange countries for to see! + +I greatly enjoyed the voyage as I have enjoyed every voyage that I have +made since, even including the channel crossing when everyone else on +board was seasick, and also the one in which I was nearly ship-wrecked +off the Irish coast. I have crossed the Atlantic between sixty and +seventy times and every trip has given me pleasure of one kind or +another. I am never nervous when travelling. Like poor Jack, I have a +vague but sure conviction that nothing will happen to _me_; that I am +protected by "a sweet little cherub that sits up aloft!" + +At Queenstown, where we touched before going on to our regular port of +Liverpool, a man came on board asking for Miss Clara Louise Kellogg. He +was from Jarrett, the agent for Colonel Mapleson who was then +_impresario_ of "Her Majesty's Opera" in London, and he brought me word +that Mapleson wanted me to call on him as soon as I reached London and, +until we could definitely arrange matters, to please give him the +refusal of myself, if I may so express it. Perhaps I wasn't a proud and +happy girl! Mapleson, I heard later, was then believed to be on the +verge of failure and it was hoped that my appearance in his company +would revive his fortunes. I grew afterwards cordially to detest and to +distrust him, and we had more troubles than I can or care to keep track +of: and, as for Jarrett, he was a most unpleasant creature with a +positive genius for making trouble. But on that day in Queenstown +harbour, with the sun shining and the little Irish fisher boats--their +patched sails streaming into the blue off-shore distance,--the man +Jarrett had sent to meet me on behalf of Colonel Mapleson seemed like a +herald of great good cheer. + +When we reached London we went to Miss Edward's Hotel in Hanover Square. +It was a curious institution, distinctive of its day and generation, a +real old-fashioned English hotel, behind streets that were "chained-up" +after nightfall. It was called a "private hotel" and unquestionably was +one; deadly dull, but maintained in the most aristocratic way +imaginable, like a formal, pluperfect, private house where one might +chance to be invited to visit. Everyone dined in his own sitting-room, +which was usually separated from the bedroom, and never a soul but the +servants was seen. The Langham was the first London hotel to introduce +the American style of hotel and it, with its successors, have had such +an influence upon the other hostelries of London as gradually to +undermine the quaint, old, truly English places we used to know, until +there are no more "private hotels" like Miss Edward's in existence. + +We had friends in London and quickly made others. Commodore McVickar, of +the New York Yacht Club, had given me a letter to a friend of his, the +Dowager Duchess of Somerset. Her cards, by the way, were engraved in +just the opposite fashion--"Duchess Dowager." McVickar told me that, if +she liked, she could make things very pleasant for me in London. It +appeared that she was something of a lion hunter and was always on the +lookout for celebrities either arriving or arrived. She went in for +everything foreign to her own immediate circle--art, intellect, and +Americans--chiefly Americans, in fact, because they were more or less of +a novelty, and she had the thirst for change in her so strongly +developed that she ought to have lived at the present time. Every night +of her life she gave dinners to hosts of friends and acquaintances. +Indeed, it is a fact that her sole interest in life consisted of giving +dinner parties and making collections of lions, great and small. I have +been told that after dinner she sometimes danced the Spanish fandango +toward the end of the evening. I never happened to see her do it, but I +quite believe her to have been capable of that or of anything else +vivacious and eccentric, although she was seventy or eighty in the shade +and not entirely built for dancing. + +I was somewhat impressed by the prospect of meeting a real live Duchess, +and had to be coached before-hand. In the early part of the eighteenth +century the mode of address "Your Grace" was used exclusively, and very +pretty and courtly it must have sounded. Nowadays it is only servants or +inferiors who think of using it. Plain "Duke" or "Duchess" is the later +form. At the period of which I am writing the custom was just betwixt +and between, in transition, and I was duly instructed to say "Your +Grace," but cautioned to say it _very_ seldom! + +[Illustration: =Henry G. Stebbins= + +From a photograph by Grillet & Co.] + +On the nineteenth of November, Colonel Stebbins and I went to call. +Maria, Dowager Duchess of Somerset lived in Park Lane in a house of +indifferent aspect. Its distinctive feature was the formidable number of +flunkeys ranged on the steps and standing in front, all in powdered +wigs and white silk stockings and wearing waistcoats of a shade carrying +out the dominant colour of the ducal coat of arms. It was raining hard +when we got there, but not one of these gorgeous functionaries would +demean himself sufficiently to carry an umbrella down to our carriage. +In the drawing-room we had to wait a long time before a sort of +gilt-edged Groom of the Chambers came to the door and announced, + +"Her Grace, the Duchess!" + +My youthful American soul was prepared for someone quite dazzling, a +magnificent presence. What is the use of diadems and coronets if the +owner does not wear them? Of course I knew, theoretically, that +duchesses did not wear their coronets in the middle of the day, but I +did nevertheless hope for something brilliant or impressive. + +Then in walked Maria, Dowager Duchess of Somerset. I cannot adequately +describe her. She was a little, dumpy, old woman with no corsets, and +dressed in a black alpaca gown and prunella shoes--those awful things +that the present generation are lucky enough never to have even seen. +She furthermore wore a _fichu_ of a style which had been entirely +extinct for fifty years at least. I really do not know how there +happened to be anyone living even then who could or would make such +things for her. No modern modiste could have achieved them and survived. +Her whole appearance was certainly beyond words. But she had very +beautiful hands, and when she spoke, the great lady was heard instantly. +It was all there, of course, only curiously costumed, not to say +disguised. + +After Colonel Stebbins had presented me and she had greeted me kindly, +he said: + +"I am sure Miss Kellogg will be glad to sing for you." + +"O," said Her Grace, carelessly, "I haven't a piano. I don't play or +sing and so I don't need one. But I'll get one in." + +I was amazed at the idea of a Duchess not owning a piano and having to +hire one when, in America, most middle-class homes possess one at +whatever sacrifice, and every little girl is expected to take music +lessons whether she has any ability or not. Even yet I do not quite +understand how she managed without a piano for her musical lions to play +on. + +She did get one in without delay and I was speedily invited to come and +sing. I thought I would pay a particular compliment to my English +hostess on that occasion by choosing a song the words of which were +written by England's Poet Laureate, so I provided myself with the lovely +setting of _Tears, Idle Tears_; music written by an American, W. H. Cook +by name, who besides being a composer of music possessed a charming +tenor voice. In my innocence I thought this choice would make a hit. +Imagine my surprise therefore when my hostess's comment on the text was: + +"Very pretty words. Who wrote them?" + +"Why," I stammered, "Tennyson." + +"Indeed? And, my dear Miss Kellogg, who _was_ Tennyson?" + +Almost immediately after Colonel Stebbins bought her a handsome set of +the Poet Laureate's works with which she expressed herself as hugely +pleased, although I am personally doubtful if she ever opened a single +volume. + +She did not forget the _Tears, Idle Tears_ episode, however, and had the +wit and good humour often to refer to it afterwards and, usually, quite +aptly. One of her most charming notes to me touches on it gracefully. +She was a great letter-writer and her epistles, couched in flowery terms +and embellished with huge capitals of the olden style, are treasures in +their way: + +" ...I know all I feel; and the Tears (_not idle Tears_) that overflow +when I read about that Charming and Illustrious 'glorious Queen' ... who +is winning all hearts and delighting everyone...." + +Another letter, one which I think is a particularly interesting specimen +of the Victorian style of letter-writing, runs: + +...I read with great delight the "critique" of you in _The London + Review_, which your Mamma was good enough to send me. The Writer is + evidently a man of highly Cultivated Mind, capable of appreciating + Excellency and Genius, and like the experienced Lapidary knows a + pearl and a Diamond when he has the good fortune to fall in the way + of one of high, pure first Water, and great brilliancy. Even _you_ + must now feel you have captivated the "elite" of the British + Public, and taken root in the country, deep, deep, deep.... + +My mother and I used often to go to see the Duchess and, through her met +many pleasant English people; the Duke and Duchess of Newcastle, Lady +Susan Vane-Tempest who was Newcastle's sister, Lord Dudley, Lord +Stanley, Lord Derby, Viscountess Combermere, Prince de la Tour +D'Auvergne, the French Ambassador,--I cannot begin to remember them +all--and I came really to like the quaint little old Duchess, who was +always most charming to me. One small incident struck me as +pathetic,--at least, it was half pathetic and half amusing. One day she +told me with impressive pride that she was going to show me one of her +dearest possessions, "a wonderful table made from a great American +treasure presented to her by her dear friend, Commodore McVickar." She +led me over to it and tenderly withdrew the cover, revealing to my +amazement a piece of rough, cheap, Indian beadwork, such as all who +crossed from Niagara to Canada in those days were familiar with. It was +about as much like the genuine and beautiful beadwork of the older +tribes as the tawdry American imitations are like true Japanese textures +and curios. This poor specimen the Duchess had had made into a table-top +and covered it with glass mounted in a gilt frame, and had given it a +place of honour in her reception room. I suppose Mr. McVickar had sent +it to her to give her a rough general idea of what Indian work looked +like. I cannot believe that he intended to play a joke on her. She was +certainly very proud of it and, so far as I know, nobody ever had the +heart to disillusion her. + +More than once I encountered in England this incongruous and +inappropriate valuation of American things. I do not put it down to a +general admiration for us but, on the contrary, to the fact that the +English were so utterly and incredibly ignorant with regard to us. The +beadwork of the Duchess reminds me of another somewhat similar incident. + +At that time there were only two really rich bachelors in New York +society, Wright Sandford and William Douglass. Willie Douglass was of +Scotch descent and sang very pleasingly. Women went wild over him. He +had a yacht that won everything in sight. While we were in London, he +and his yacht put in an appearance at Cowes and he asked us down to pay +him a visit. It was a delightful experience. The Earl of Harrington's +country seat was not far away and the Earl with his daughters came on +board to ask the yacht's party to luncheon the day following. Of course +we all went and, equally of course, we had a wonderful time. Lunch was a +deliciously informal affair. At one stage of the proceedings, somebody +wanted more soda water, when young Lord Petersham, Harrington's eldest +son, jumped up to fetch it himself. He rushed across the room and flung +open, with an air of triumph, the door of a common, wooden ice-box,--the +sort kept in the pantry or outside the kitchen door by Americans. + +"Look!" he cried, "did you ever see anything so splendid? It's our +American refrigerator and the joy of our lives! I suppose you've seen +one before, Miss Kellogg?" + +I explained rather feebly that I had, although not in a dining-room. But +the family assured me that a dining-room was the proper place for it. I +have seldom seen anything so heart-rendingly incongruous as that plain +ugly article of furniture in that dining-room all carved woodwork, +family silver, and armorial bearings! + +They were dear people and my heart went out to them more completely than +to any of my London friends. I soon discovered why. + +"You are the most cordial English people I've met yet," I said to Lady +Philippa Stanhope, the Earl's charming daughter. Her eyes twinkled. + +"Oh, we're not English," she explained, "we're Irish!" + +Yet even if I did not find the Londoners quite so congenial, I did like +them. I could not have helped it, they were so courteous to my mother +and me. Probably they supposed us to have Indians in our back-yards at +home; nevertheless they were always courteous, at times cordial. One of +the most charming of the Englishwomen I met was the Viscountess +Combermere. She was one of the Queen's ladies-in-waiting, a very +vivacious woman, and used to keep dinner tables in gales of laughter. +Just then when anyone in London wanted to introduce or excuse an +innovation, he or she would exclaim, "the Queen does it!" and there +would be nothing more for anyone to say. This became a sort of +catch-word. I recall one afternoon at the Dowager Duchess of Somerset's, +a cup of hot tea was handed to the Viscountess who, pouring the liquid +from the cup into the saucer and then sipping it from the saucer, said: + +"Now ladies, do not think this is rude, for I have just come from the +Queen and saw her do the same. Let us emulate the Queen!" Then, seeing +us hesitate, "the Queen does it, ladies! the Queen does it!" + +Whereupon everyone present drank tea from their saucers. + +It was the Viscountess, also, who so greatly amused my mother at a +luncheon party by saying to her with the most polite interest: + +"You speak English remarkably well, Mrs. Kellogg! Do they speak English +in America?" + +"Yes, a little," replied mother, quietly. + + + + +CHAPTER XIII + +AT HER MAJESTY'S + + +Adelina Patti came to see us at once. I had known her in America when +she was singing with her sister and when, if the truth must be told, +many people found Carlotta the more satisfactory singer of the two. I +was glad to see her again even though we were _prime donne_ of rival +opera organisations. Adelina headed the list of artists at Covent Garden +under Mr. Gye, among whom were some of the biggest names in Europe. +Indeed, I found myself confronted with the competition of several +favourites of the English people. At my own theatre, Her Majesty's, was +Mme. Titjiens, always much beloved in England and still a fine artist. +Christine Nilsson was also a member of the company; had sung there +earlier in that year and was to sing there again later in the season. + +A _tour de force_ of Adelina's was my old friend _Linda di Chamounix_. +She was supposed to be very brilliant in the part, especially in the +_Cavatina_ of the first act. As for Marguerite it was considered her +private and particular property at Covent Garden, and Nilsson's private +and particular property at Her Majesty's. + +I have been often asked my opinion of Patti's voice. She had a beautiful +voice that, in her early days, was very high, and she is, on the whole, +quite the most remarkable singer that I ever heard. But her voice has +not been a high one for many years. It has changed, changed in pitch and +register. It is no longer a soprano; it is a mezzo and must be judged by +quite different standards. I heard her when she sang over here in +America thirteen years ago. She gave her old _Cavatina_ from _Linda_ and +sang the whole of it a tone and a half lower than formerly. While the +public did not know what the trouble was, they could not help perceiving +the lack of brilliancy. Ah, those who have heard her in only the last +fifteen years or so know nothing at all about Patti's voice! Yet it was +always a light voice, although I doubt if the world realised the fact. +She was always desperately afraid of overstraining it, and so was +Maurice Strakosch for her. She never could sing more than three times in +a week and, of those three, one _rôle_ at least had to be very light. A +great deal is heard about the wonderful preservation of Patti's voice. +It _was_ wonderfully preserved thirteen years ago. How could it have +been otherwise, considering the care she has always taken of herself? +Such a life! Everything divided off carefully according to _régime_:--so +much to eat, so far to walk, so long to sleep, just such and such things +to do and no others! And, above all, she has allowed herself few +emotions. Every singer knows that emotions are what exhaust and injure +the voice. She never acted; and she never, never felt. As Violetta she +did express some slight emotion, to be sure. Her _Gran Dio_ in the last +act was sung with something like passion, at least with more passion +than she ever sang anything else. Yes: in _La Traviata_, after she had +run away with Nicolini, she did succeed in putting an unusual amount of +warmth into the _rôle_ of Violetta. + +[Illustration: =Adelina Patti= + +From a photograph by Fredericks] + +But her great success was always due to her wonderful voice. Her acting +was essentially mechanical. As an intelligent actress, a creator of +parts, or even as an interesting personality, she could never approach +Christine Nilsson. Nilsson had both originality and magnetism, a +combination irresistibly captivating. Her singing was the embodiment of +dramatic expression. + +In September of that year we went down to Edinburgh to see the ruins of +Melrose Abbey. To confess the truth, I remember just two things clearly +about Scotland. One was that, at the ruins, Colonel Stebbins picked up a +piece of crumbling stone, spoke of the strange effect of age upon it, +and let it drop. Around turned the showman, or guide, or whatever the +person was called who crammed the sights down our throats. + +"You Americans are the curse of the country!" he exclaimed sharply. + +My other distinct memory--with associations of much discomfort and +annoyance--is that I left one rubber overshoe in Loch Lomond. + +So much for Scotland. We did not stay long; and were soon back in London +ready for work. + +Our rehearsals were rather fun. It seemed strange to be able to walk +across a stage without getting the hem of one's skirt dirty. English +theatres are incredibly clean when one considers what a dirty, sooty, +grimy town London is. Our opera was at the old Drury Lane, although we +always called it Her Majesty's because that was the name of the opera +company. I was amused to find that a member of the company, a big young +basso named "Signor Foli," turned out to be none other than Walter +Foley, a boy from my old home in the Hartford region. I always called +him "the Irish Italian from Connecticut." + +We opened on November 2d in _Faust_. There was rather a flurry of +indignation that a young American _prima donna_ should dare to plunge +into Marguerite the very first thing. The fact that the young American +had sung it before other artists had, with the exception of Patti and +Titjiens, and that she was generally believed to know something about +it, mattered not at all. English people are acknowledged idolaters and +notoriously cold to newcomers. They cling to some imperishable memory of +a poor soul whose voice has been dead for years: and it was undoubtedly +an inversion of this same loyalty to their favourites that made them so +dislike the idea of Marguerite being selected for the new young woman's +_début_. But, really, though on a slightly different scale, it was not +so unlike the early days of _Linda_, over again when the Italians +accused me with so much animosity of taking the bread out of their +mouths. It can easily be believed that, with Nilsson holding all records +of Marguerite at Her Majesty's, and with Adelina waiting at Covent +Garden with murderous sweetness to see what I was going to do with her +favourite _rôle_, I was wretchedly nervous. When the first night came +around no one had a good word for me; everybody was indifferent; and I +honestly do not know what I should have done if it had not been for +Santley--dear, big-hearted Santley. He was our Valentine, that one, +great, incomparable Valentine for whom Gounod wrote the _Dio possente_. +I was walking rather shakily across the stage for my first entrance, +feeling utterly frightened and lonely, and looking, I dare say, nearly +as miserable as I felt, when a warm, strong hand was laid gently on my +shoulder. + +"Courage, little one, courage," said Santley, smiling at me and patting +me as if I had been a very small, unhappy, frightened child. + +I smiled back at him and, suddenly, I felt strong and hopeful and brave +again. Onto the stage I went with a curiously sure feeling that I was +going to do well after all. + +I suppose I must have done well. There was a packed house and very soon +I felt it with me. I was called out many times, once in the middle of +the act after the church scene, an occurrence that was so far as I know +unprecedented. Colonel Keppel, the Prince of Wales's aide (I did not +dream then how well-known the name Keppel was destined to be in +connection with that of his royal master), came behind during the +_entr'acte_ to congratulate me on behalf of the Prince. In later +performances his Highness did me the honour of coming himself. The +London newspapers--of which, frankly, I had stood in great dread--had +delightful things to say. This is the way in which one of them welcomed +me: " ...She has only one fault: if she were but English, she would be +simply perfect!" The editorial comments in _The Athenæum_ of Chorley, +that gorgon of English criticism, included the following paragraph: + + Miss Kellogg has a voice, indeed, that leaves little to wish for, + and proves by her use of it that her studies have been both + assiduous and in the right path. She is, in fact, though so young, + a thoroughly accomplished singer--in the school, at any rate, + toward which the music of M. Gounod consistently leans, and which + essentially differs from the florid school of Rossini and the + Italians before Verdi. One of the great charms of her singing is + her perfect enunciation of the words she has to utter. She never + sacrifices sense to sound; but fits the verbal text to the music, + as if she attached equal importance to each. Of the Italian + language she seems to be a thorough mistress, and we may well + believe that she speaks it both fluently and correctly. These + manifest advantages, added to a graceful figure, a countenance full + of intelligence, and undoubted dramatic ability, make up a sum of + attractions to be envied, and easily explain the interest excited + by Miss Kellogg at the outset and maintained by her to the end. + +But, oh, how grateful I was to that good Santley for giving the little +boost to my courage at just the right moment! He was always a fine +friend, as well as a fine singer. I admired him from the bottom of my +heart, both as an artist and a man, and not only for what he was but +also for what he had grown from. He was only a ship-chandler's clerk in +the beginning. Indeed, he was in the office of a friend of mine in +Liverpool. From that he rose to the foremost rank of musical art. Yet +that friend of mine never took the least interest in Santley, nor was he +ever willing to recognise Santley's standing. Merely because he had once +held so inferior a position this man I knew--and he was not a bad sort +of man otherwise--was always intolerant and incredulous of Santley's +success and would never even go to hear him sing. It is true that +Santley never did entirely shake off the influences of his early +environment, a characteristic to be remarked in many men of his +nationality. In addition to this, some men are so sincere and +simple-hearted and earnest that they do not take kindly to artificial +environment and I think Santley was one of these. And he was a dear man, +and kind. His wife, a relative of Fanny Kemble, I never knew very well +as she was a good deal of an invalid. + +[Illustration: =Clara Louise Kellogg as Linda, 1868= + +From a photograph by Stereoscopic Co.] + +On the 9th we repeated _Faust_ and on the 11th we gave _Traviata_. This +also, I feel sure, must have irritated Adelina. It is a curious little +fact that, while the opera of _Traviata_ was not only allowed but also +greatly liked in London, the play _La Dame aux Camilias_--which as we +all know is practically the _Traviata libretto_--had been rigorously +banned by the English censor! _Traviata_ brought me more curtain calls +than ever. The British public was really growing to like me! + +_Martha_ followed on the 15th. This was another _rôle_ in which I had to +challenge comparison with Nilsson, who was fond of it, although I never +liked her classic style in the part. It was given in Italian; but I sang +_The Last Rose of Summer_ in English, like a ballad, and the people +loved it. I wore a blue satin gown as Martha which, alas! I lost in the +theatre fire not long after. + +Then came _Linda di Chamounix_, the second _rôle_ that I had ever sung. +I was glad to sing it again, and in England, and the newspapers spoke of +it as "a great and crowning success" for me. As soon as we had given +this opera, Gye, the _impresario_ at Covent Garden, decided it was time +to show off Patti in that _rôle_. So he promptly--hastily, even--revived +Linda for her. I have always felt, however, that Linda was tacitly given +to me by the public. Arditi, our conductor at Her Majesty's, wrote a +waltz for me to sing at the close of the opera, _The Kellogg Waltz_, and +I wore a charming new costume in the part, a simple little yellow gown, +with a blue moiré silk apron and tiny pale pink roses. The combination +of pink and yellow was always a favourite one with me. I wore it in my +early appearance as Violetta and, later, also in _Traviata_, I wore a +variant of the same colour scheme that was called by my friends in +London my "rainbow frock." It was composed of a _grosgrain_ silk +petticoat of the hue known as apricot, trimmed with mauve and pale +turquoise shades; the overskirt was caught back at either side with a +turquoise bow and the train was of plain turquoise. I took a serious +interest in my costumes in those days--and, indeed, in all days! This +latter gown was one of Worth's creations and met with much admiration. +More than once have I received letters asking where it was made. + +The English public was most cordial and kindly toward me and unfailingly +appreciative of my work. But I believe from the bottom of my heart that, +inherently and permanently, the English are an unmusical people. They do +not like fire, nor passion, nor great moments in either life nor art. +Mozart's music, that runs peacefully and simply along, is precisely what +suits them best. They adore it. They likewise adore Rossini and Handel. +They think that the crashing emotional climaxes of the more advanced +composers are extravagant; and, both by instinct and principle, they +dislike the immoderate and the extreme in all things. They are in fact a +simple and primitive people, temperamentally, actually, and +artistically. I remember that the first year I was in London all the +women were singing: + + My mother bids me bind my hair + And lace my bodice blue! + +It wandered along so sweetly and mildly, not to say insipidly, that of +course it was popular with Victorian England. + +Finally, came _Don Giovanni_ on December 3d. I played Zerlina as I had +done in America. Later I came to prefer Donna Anna. But in London +Titjiens did Donna Anna. Santley was the Almaviva and Mme. Sinico was +the Donna Elvira. The following spring when we gave our "all star cast" +Nilsson was the Elvira. I had no Zerlina costume with me and the +decision to put on the opera was made in a hurry, so I got out my old +Rosina dress and wore it and it answered the purpose every bit as well +as if I had had a new one. + +The opera went splendidly, so splendidly that, two days later, on the +5th, we gave it again at a matinée, or, as it was the fashion to say +then, a "morning performance." The success was repeated. I caught a most +terrible cold, however, and returned in a bad temper to Miss Edward's +Hotel to nurse myself for a few days and get in condition for the next +performance. But there was destined to be no next performance at the old +Drury Lane. + +The following evening at about half-past ten, my mother, Colonel +Stebbins, and I were talking in our sitting-room with the window-shades +up. Suddenly I saw a red glow over the roofs of the houses and pointed +it out. + +"It's a fire!" I exclaimed. + +"And it's in the direction of the theatre!" said Colonel Stebbins. + +"Oh, I hope that Her Majesty's is in no danger!" cried my mother. + +We did not think at first that it could be the theatre itself, but +Colonel Stebbins sent his valet off in a hurry to make enquiries. While +he was gone a messenger arrived in great haste from the Duchess of +Somerset asking for assurances of my safety. Then came other messages +from friends all over London and soon the man servant returned to +confirm the reports that were reaching us. Her Majesty's had caught fire +from the carpenter's shop underneath the stage and, before morning, had +burned to the ground. + +Arditi had been holding an orchestra rehearsal there at the time and the +last piece of music ever played in the old theatre was _The Kellogg +Waltz_. + +[Illustration: =Mr. McHenry= + +From a photograph by Brady] + + + + +CHAPTER XIV + +ACROSS THE CHANNEL + + +Titjiens had smelled smoke and she had been told that it was nothing but +shavings that were being burned. Luckily, nobody was hurt and, although +some of our costumes were lost, we artists did not suffer so very much +after all. But of course our season was summarily put an end to and we +all scattered for work and play until the spring season when Mapleson +would want us back. + +My mother and I went across to Paris without delay. I had wanted to see +"the Continent" since I was a child and I must say that, in my heart of +hearts, I almost welcomed the fire that set me free to go sightseeing +and adventuring after the slavery of dressing-rooms and rehearsals. +Crossing the Channel I was the heroine of the boat because, while I was +just a little seasick, I was not enough so to give in to it. I can +remember forcing myself to sit up and walk about and even talk with a +grim and savage feeling that I would die rather than admit myself beaten +by a silly and disgusting _malaise_ like that; and after crossing the +ocean with impunity too. Everyone else on board was abjectly ill and I +expect it was partly pride that kept me well. + +In Paris we went first to the Louvre Hotel where we were nearly frozen +to death. As soon as we could, we moved into rooms where we might thaw +out and become almost warm, although we never found the temperature +really comfortable the whole time we lived in French houses. We saw any +number of plays, visited cathedrals and picture galleries, and bought +clothes. In fact we did all the regulation things, for we were +determined to make the most of every minute of our holiday. Rather +oddly, one of the entertainments I remember most distinctly was a +production of _Gulliver's Travels_ at the Théâtre Châtelet. It was the +dullest play in the world; but the scenery and effects were splendid. + +I was not particularly enthusiastic over the French theatres. Indeed, I +found them very limited and disappointing. I had gone to France +expecting every theatrical performance in Paris to be a revelation. +Probably I respect French art as much as any one; but I believe it is +looked up to a great deal more than is justified. Consider Mme. +Carvalho's wig for example, and, as for that, her costume as well. Yet +we all turned to the Parisians as authority for the theatre. The +pictures of the first distinguished Marguerite give a fine idea of the +French stage effects in the sixties. A few years ago I heard +_Tannhäuser_ in Paris. The manner in which the pilgrims wandered in +convinced me in my opinion. The whole management was inefficient and +Wagner's injunctions were disregarded at every few bars. The French +Gallicise everything. They simply cannot get inside the mental point of +view of any other country. Though they are popularly considered to be so +facile and adaptable, they are in truth the most obstinate, one-idead, +single-sided race on earth barring none except, possibly, the Italians. +Gounod's _Faust_ is a good example--a Ger man story treated by +Frenchmen. Remarkably little that is Teutonic has been left in it. +Goethe has been eliminated so far as possible. The French were held by +the drama, but the poetry and the symbolism meant nothing at all to +them. Being German, they had no use for its poetry and its symbolism. +The French colour and alter foreign thought just as they colour and +alter foreign phraseology. They do it in a way more subtle than any +usual difficulties of translation from one tongue to another. The +process is more a form of transmuting than of translating--words, +thoughts, actions--into another element entirely. How idiotic it sounds +when Hamlet sings: + + _Être--ou n'être pas!_ + +Perhaps this, however, is not entirely the fault of the French. +Shakespeare should never be set to music. + +There is also the question of traditions. I may seem to be contradicting +myself when I find fault with a certain French school for its blind and +bigoted adherence to traditions; but there should be moderation in all +things and a hidebound rigidity in stupid old forms is just as +inartistic as a free-and-easy elasticity in flighty new ones. It is +possible to put some old wine in new bottles, but it must be poured in +very gently. French artists learn most when once they get away from +France. Maurel is a good example. Look at the way he grew and developed +when he went to England and America and was allowed to work problems and +ideas out by himself. + +Once when in Paris I wanted to vary and freshen my costume of +Marguerite, give it a new yet consistent touch here and there. I was not +planning to renovate the _rôle_, only the girl's clothes. Having always +felt that the Grand Opera was a Mecca to us artists from afar, I +hastened there and climbed up the huge stairway to pay my respects to +the Director. Monsieur had never heard of me. Frenchmen make a point +never to have heard of any one outside of France. The fact that I was +merely the first and the most famous Marguerite across the sea did not +count. He was, however, very polite. He brought out his wonderful +costume books that were full of new ideas to me and delighted me with +numberless fresh possibilities. I saw unexplored fields in the direction +of correct costuming and exclaimed over the designs, Monsieur watching +my enthusiasm with bored civility. There was one particularly enchanting +design for a silver chatelaine, heavy and mediæval in character. I could +see it with my mind's eye hanging from Marguerite's bodice. This I said +to M. le Directeur: but he shook his dignified head with a frown. + +"Too rich. Marguerite was too poor," he said with weary brevity. + +"Oh, no!" I explained volubly and eagerly, "she was of the well-to-do +class--the burghers--don't you remember? Marguerite and Valentine owned +their house and, though they were of course of peasant blood, this sort +of chatelaine seems to me just the thing that any German girl might +possess." + +"Too rich," Monsieur put in imperturbably. + +"But," I protested, "it might be an heirloom, you know, and----" + +"Too rich," he repeated politely; and he added in a calm, dreamy voice +as he shut up the book, "I think that Mademoiselle will make a mistake +_if she ever tries anything new_!" + +As for sightseeing in France, my mother and I did any amount of it on +that first visit. Sometimes I was charmed but more often I was +disillusioned. There have been few "sights" in my life that have come up +to my "great expectations" or been half as wonderful as my dreams. This +is the penalty of a too vivid imagination; nothing can ever be as +perfect as one's fancy paints it. The view of Mont Blanc from the +terrace of Voltaire's house near the borderland of France and +Switzerland is one of the few in my experience that I have found more +lovely than I could have dreamed it to be. Of all the palaces that I +have been in--and they have numbered several--the only one that ever +seemed to me like a real palace was Fontainebleau. Small but exquisite, +it looked like a haven of rest and loveliness, as though its motto might +well be: "How to be happy though a crowned head!" + +Speaking of crowned heads reminds me that while we were in Paris Mr. +McHenry, our English friend from Holland Park, made an appointment for +me to be presented to the ex-Queen of Spain, the Bourbon princess, +Christina, so beloved by many Spaniards. I was delighted because I had +never been presented to royalty and a Spanish queen seemed a very +splendid sort of personage even if she did not happen to be ruling at +the moment. Christina had withdrawn from Spain and had married the Duke +de Rienzares. They lived in a beautiful palace on the Champs Élysées. +There are nothing but shops on the site now but it used to be very +imposing, especially the formal entrance which, if I remember correctly, +was off the Rue St. Honoré. Mrs. and Mr. McHenry went with me and, after +being admitted, we were shown up a marble staircase into what was called +the Cameo Room, a small, austere apartment filled with cameos of the +Bourbons. Queen Christina liked to live in small and unpretentious +rooms; they seemed less suggestive of a palace. + +I found that "royalty at home" was about as simple as anything could +conceivably be; not quite as plain as the old Dowager Duchess of +Somerset to be sure but quite plain enough. The Queen and the Duke de +Rienzares entered without ceremony. The Queen wore a severe and simple +black gown that cleared the floor by an inch or two. It was a perfectly +practical and useful dress, admirably suited for housekeeping or tidying +up a room. Around the royal lady's shoulders hung a little red plaid +shawl such as no American would wear. She was Spanishly dark and her +black hair was pulled into a knot about the size of a silver dollar in +the middle of the back of her head. I have never seen her _en grande +toilette_ and so do not know whether or not she ever looked any less +like a respectable housekeeper. She had a delightful manner and was most +gracious. She had, with all the Bourbon pride, also the Bourbon gift of +making herself pleasant and of putting people at their ease. Of course +she was immensely accomplished and spoke Italian as perfectly as she did +Spanish. The Duke seemed harmless and amiable. He had little to say, was +thoroughly subordinate, and seemed entirely acclimated to his position +in life as the ordinarily born husband of a Queen. + +Our visit was not much of an ordeal after all. It was really quite +instinctively that I courtesied and backed out of the room and observed +the other points of etiquette that are correct when one is introduced to +royalty. As it was a private presentation, it had not been thought +necessary to coach me, and as I backed myself out of the august +presence, keeping myself as nearly as possible in a courtesying +attitude, I caught Mr. McHenry looking at me with amused approval. + +"Well," said he, when we were safe in the hall and I had straightened +up, "I should say that you had been accustomed to courts and crowned +heads all your life! You acted as if you had been brought up on it!" + +"Ah," I replied, "that comes from my opera training. We learn on the +stage how to treat kings and queens." + +Not more than a fortnight after this I had an offer for an engagement at +the Madrid Opera for $400.00 a night, very good for Spain in those days. +I suppose that it came indirectly through the influence of Queen +Christina. I wanted to go to Spain, but my mother would not let me +accept. We were almost pioneers of travel in the modern sense and had no +one to give us authoritative ideas of other countries. People alarmed us +about the climate, declaring it unhealthy; and about the public, which +they said was capricious and rude. The warning about the public +particularly frightened me. I should never object to my efforts being +received in silence in case of disapproval, but I felt that I could not +survive what I had been told was the Spanish custom of hissing. I was +also told that Spanish audiences were very mercurial and difficult to +win. So we refused the Madrid Opera offer, and I have never sung in +either Spain or Italy principally because of my dread of the hissing +habit. + +That same year I heard Christine Nilsson for the first time, in _Martha_ +at the Théâtre Lyrique and, later, in _Hamlet_ at the same theatre with +Faure. Shortly after both Nilsson and Faure were taken over by the Grand +Opera. Ophélie had been written for Nilsson and composed entirely around +her voice. She created the part, singing it exquisitely, and Ambrose +Thomas paid her the compliment of taking his two principal soprano +melodies from old Swedish folk-songs. Nilsson could sing Swedish +melodies in a way to drive one crazy or break one's heart. I have been +quite carried away with them again and again. There was one delicious +song that she called _Le Bal_ in which a young fellow asks a girl to +dance and she is very shy. It was slight, but ever so pretty, and it had +a minor melody that was typically northern. These were the good days +before her voice became impaired. In this connection I may mention that +it was Christine Nilsson who, having heard the Goodwin girls sing _Way +Down upon the Swanee River_, first introduced it on the stage as an +_encore_. + +While speaking of Nilsson, I want to record that I was present on the +night, much later, when she practically murdered the high register of +her voice. She had five upper notes the quality of which was unlike any +other I ever heard and that possessed a peculiar charm. The tragedy +happened during a performance of _The Magic Flute_ in London and I was +in the Newcastles' box, which was near the stage. Nilsson was the Queen +of the Night, one of her most successful early _rôles_. The second aria +in _The Magic Flute_ is more famous and less difficult than the first +aria and, also, more effective. Nilsson knew well the ineffectiveness of +the ending of the first _aria_ in the two weakest notes of a soprano's +voice, A natural and B flat. I never could understand why a master like +Mozart should have chosen to use them as he did. There is no climax to +the song. One has to climb up hard and fast and then stop short in the +middle. It is an appalling thing to do: and that night Nilsson took +those two notes at the last in _chest tones_. + +[Illustration: =Christine Nilsson as Queen of the Night= + +From a photograph by Pierre Petit] + +"Great heavens!" I gasped, "what is she doing? What is the woman +thinking of!" + +Of course I knew she was doing it to get volume and vibration and to +give that trying climax some character. But to say that it was a fatal +attempt is to put it mildly. She absolutely killed a certain quality in +her voice there and then and she _never recovered it_. Even that night +she had to cut out the second great _aria_. Her beautiful high notes +were gone for ever. Probably the fatality was the result of the last +stroke to a continued strain which she had put upon her voice. After +that she, like Mario, began to be dramatic to make up for what she had +lost. She, the classical and cold artist, became full of expression and +animation. But the later Nilsson was very different from the Nilsson +whom I first heard in Paris during the winter of 1868, when, besides +singing the music perfectly, she was, with her blond hair and broad +brow, a living Ophélie. As I have said, Faure, the baritone, was her +Hamlet in that early performance. He was a great artist, a great actor +in whatever _rôle_ he took. His voice was not wonderful, but he was +saved, and more than saved, by his style and his art. He was a +particularly cultivated, musicianly man whose dignity of carriage and +elegance of manner could easily make people forget a certain ungrateful +quality in his voice. It was Faure who had the brains and perseverance +to learn how to sing a particular note from a really bad singer. The bad +singer had only one good note in his voice and that happened to be the +worst one in Faure's. So, night after night, the great artist went to +hear and to study the inferior one to try and learn how he got that +note. And he succeeded, too. This is a fair sample of his careful and +finished way of doing anything. He was a big artist, and to big +artists, especially in singing, music is almost mathematical in its +exactness. + +Adelina Patti, who had also left London for the winter, was singing at +the _Italiens_ in Paris. I went to hear her give an indifferent +performance of _Ernani_. It was never one of her advantageous _rôles_. +Adelina had a most extraordinary charm and a great power over men of +very diverse sorts. De Caux, Nicolini, Maurice Strakosch, who married +Adelina's sister Amelia, all adored her and felt that whatever she did +must be right because she did it. Nicolini, who had been a star tenor +singing all over Italy before she captured him, was willing to forget +that he ever had a wife or children. Maurice was for years her "manager +and representative," and as such put up with incredible complexities in +the situation. There is a long and lurid tale about Nicolini's wife +appearing in Italy when Nicolini, Maurice, and Adelina were all there. +The story ended with Nicolini being kicked downstairs and the press +commented upon the episode with an apt couplet from Schiller to the +effect that "life is hard, but merry is art!" + +The names of Paris and of Maurice Strakosch in conjunction conjure up +the thought of Napoleon III, who, in his young days of exile, used to be +very intimate with Maurice. Louis Napoleon, after he had escaped from +the fortress of Ham, spent some time in London, and he and Maurice +frequently lunched or dined together. By the way, some years later, at a +dinner at the McHenrys' in Holland Park, I was told by Chevalier Wyckoff +that it was he who rescued Napoleon from the prison of Ham by smuggling +clothes in to him and by having a boat waiting for him. Maurice used to +tell of one rather amusing incident that occurred during the London +period. Louis Napoleon's dress clothes were usually in pawn, and one +night when he wanted to go to some party, he presented himself at +Maurice's rooms to borrow his. Maurice was out; but nevertheless Louis +Napoleon took the dress clothes anyway, adding all of Maurice's orders +and decorations. When he was decked out to his satisfaction he went to +the party. Shortly after, in came Maurice, to dress for the same party, +and called to his valet to bring him his evening clothes. + +"Mr. Bonaparte's got 'em on, sir," said the man: and Maurice stayed at +home! + +Napoleon III was a man of many weaknesses. Yet he kept his promises and +remembered his friends--when he could. As soon as he became Emperor he +sent for Maurice Strakosch and offered him the management of the +_Italiens_; but Maurice declined the honour. He was too busy +"representing" Patti in those days to care for any other engagement. He +did give singing lessons to the Empress Eugénie however, and was always +on good terms with her and with the Emperor. + +When I was in Paris in '68 Napoleon and Eugénie were in power at the +Tuileries and day after day I saw them driving behind their splendid +horses. Paris was extremely gay and yet somewhat ominous, for there was +a wide-spread feeling that clouds were gathering about the throne. When +thinking of that period I sometimes quote to myself Owen Meredith's +poem, _Aux Italiens_, + + At Paris it was at the opera there ... + + * * * * * + + The Emperor there in his box of state + Looked grave, as if he had just then seen + The red flag wave from the city gate, + Where his eagles in bronze had been. + +The Tuileries court was a very brilliant one and we were accustomed to +splendid costumes and gorgeous turnouts in the Bois, but one day I came +home with a particularly excited description of the "foreign princess" I +had seen. Her clothes, her horses (she drove postilion), her carriage, +her liveries, her servants, all, to my innocent and still ignorant mind, +proclaimed her some distinguished visiting royalty. How chagrined I was +and how I was laughed at when my "princess" turned out to be one of the +best known _demi-mondaines_ in Paris! Even then it was difficult to tell +the two _mondes_ apart. + +A unique character in Paris was Dr. Evans, dentist to the Emperor and +Empress. He was an American and a witty, talented man. I remember +hearing him laughingly boast: + +"I have looked down the mouth of every crowned head of Europe!" + +When disaster overtook the Bonapartes, he proved that he could serve +crowned heads in other ways besides filling their teeth. It was he who +helped the Empress to escape, and the fact made him an exile from Paris. +He came to see me in London years afterwards and told me something of +that dark and dramatic time of flight. He felt very homesick for Paris, +which had been his home for so long, but the dear man was as merry and +charming as ever. + +We spent in all only a short time in Paris. Two months were taken out of +the middle of that winter for travelling on the Continent, after which +we returned to the French city for March. When we first started from +Paris on our trip we were headed for Nice. It was Christmas Day, and +cold as charity. Why _did_ we choose that day of all others on which to +begin a journey? Our Christmas dinner consisted of cold soup swallowed +at a station. Christmas!--I could have wept! + + + + +CHAPTER XV + +MY FIRST HOLIDAY ON THE CONTINENT + + +It seemed very odd to be really idle. From the time I was thirteen I had +been working and studying so systematically that to get the habit of +leisure was like learning a new and a difficult lesson. It took time, +for one thing, to find out how to relax; nervous persons never acquire +this art naturally nor possess it instinctively. It is with them the +artificial product of painful experience. All my life I had been +expending energy at top pressure and building it up again as fast as I +could instead of sometimes letting it lie fallow for a bit. When I +became exhausted my mother would speedily make strong broths with rice +and meat and vegetables and anything else that she considered nourishing +to stimulate my jaded vitality; then I would go at my work again harder +than ever. When I had finished one thing I plunged, nerves, body, and +brain, into another. To be an artist is bad enough; but to be an +American artist--! To the temperamental excitability and intensity is +added the racial nervousness; and lucky are such if they do not go up in +a final smoke of over-energised effort. When I was singing I was always +in a fever before the curtain rose. All the day before I was restless to +the point of desperation. Instead of letting myself go and becoming +comfortably limp so that I might conserve my strength for the +performance itself, I would cast about for a hundred secondary ways in +which to waste my nervous force. I was nearly as bad as the Viennese +_prima donna_, Marie Willt. The story is told of her that a reporter +from a Vienna newspaper went to interview her the afternoon before she +was to sing in _Il Trovatore_ at the Royal Opera and enquired of the +scrubwoman in the hall where he could find Frau Willt. + +"Here," responded the scrubwoman, sitting up to eye him calmly. + +When the young man expressed surprise and incredulity she explained, as +she continued to mop the soapy water, that she invariably scrubbed the +floor the day she was going to sing. "It keeps me busy," she concluded +sententiously. + +Think of the force that went into that scrubbing-brush which might have +gone into the part of Leonora! But it is not for me to find fault with +such a course of action because I followed a very similar one. If I did +not exactly scrub floors, I did, somehow, contrive to find other equally +adequate ways of dissipating my strength before I sang. Yet here I was, +actually taking a holiday, with no chance at all to work even if I +wanted to! + +When we arrived in Nice the lemons and oranges on the trees and a sky as +blue as painted china made the place seem to me somewhat unnatural, like +a stage setting. Not yet having learned my lesson of relaxation, I soon +became restless and wanted to be again on the move. Nevertheless we +stayed there for nearly a month. My mother seemed to like it. She made +many friends and spent hours every day painting little pictures--quite +dear little pictures they were--of the bright coloured wild flowers +that grew roundabout. But possibly a few extracts from the diary kept by +my mother of this visit will not be out of place here. The capital +letters and italics are hers. + + _Dec. 25_--Christmas morning. Sun shone for two hours. Left for + Nice. Arrived at 5 P.M. A very cold night. Cars warmed by zink + hollow planks [boxes] filled with Boiling water which are replaced + every three hours at the different stations. Notwithstanding shawls + and wraps suffered with the cold. Nothing to eat until we arrived + at twelve at Marseilles, where [we] got a poor, cold soup and + miserable cup of tea. Arrived at the Hotel Luxembourg in Nice at + 6.30 P.M. The city and hotels crowded with people from all parts of + the world. Rheumatic people rush here to get into the _sunshine_--a + _thing_ seldom seen in Paris or London in winter. Nice is simply a + watering-place _without the water_, unless one means the Sea + Mediterranean which almost rushes into the Halls of the Hotels. All + languages are here spoken; therefore no trouble for any nation to + obtain what it desires. The streets are pulverised magnesia. + Everybody looks after walking as though they had been to mill + "turning hopper." + + In our promenade [to-day, Dec. 27] we meet in less than twenty + minutes as many different nationalities, or representatives of + each. Poor in soil, poor in colour, poor in taste is Nice. The + Hotels compose the City. Roses bloom by the roadsides in abundance. + The gardens of the Hotels are yellow with Oranges. Palm trees line + the streets, none of which have shade trees that ever grow enough + to shade but _one person at a time_--no soil--no vigour--sun does + all the maturing. Things ripen from necessity, not from the soil. + + _Saturday 28_--Clear beautiful morning. Beach covered with + promenaders. At twelve Louise and I took a long walk towards Villa + Franca--sun very hot--met Richard Palmer who had just arrived. + Enjoyed the morning; were refreshed by our walk. Mr. Stebbins and + Charlie called. Drive at 5. Evening had a light wood fire upon the + hearth, making rooms and hearts cheerful in direct opposition to + the roaring of the wild sea at our very feet. Proprietor of Hotel + sent up his Piano for Louise. Basket Phaetons--2 ponies--are hired + here for one franc an hour--fine woods but dusty. + + _29th.--Sunday_--Magnificent morning. The sea smooth as glass. + Women line the beach spreading clothes to bleach. There is a short + diluted Season of Italian Opera here. _Ernani_ was announced for + last evening. There is no odor from the Mediterranean, no sea + weeds, no shells, a perfectly clean barren beach. I don't believe + it is even salt. Shall go and sip to satisfy Yankee curiosity. + There are two Irish heiresses here whose combined weight in gold is + 9000 lbs., and the way the nobs and snobs tiptoe, bow, and scrape + is something to behold. They are always dressed alike. We are cold + enough to have a small wood fire morning and evening in a very + primitive style fireplace 18 inches square. Handirons made of 2 + cast iron virgins' heads and busts. Bellows thrown in. + + _One_ P.M.--Took a double Pony Basket Phaeton, Louise and I on the + front seat, she driving a grey and bay pony. Drove to Villa Franca + where the American fleet is anchored. Saw the old flag once more, + which brought home most vividly to my heart and roused the old + longing for the dear old spot. + + _30th._ No letters. No news of trunks. The Monotonous sea singing + Hush at measured intervals, not one wave even an inch higher than + another. This cannot be a real sea, the Mediterranean, _or it would + sometime change its tone_. Yesterday rode through the old Italian + part of the City. Houses 6 or 7 stories high. Streets just wide + enough for a donkey cart to get through. Never can pass each other. + One has to back out. + + _Tuesday 31._ Took our usual walk. Listened to the band in the + Public Gardens. This is a poor, barren country. I believe the + plates are _licked by the inhabitants instead of the dogs_. This + place is too poor for _them_. The only good conditioned looking + people here are the priests. They are bursting with inward + satisfaction and joy. When in Paris last October we heard of a most + wonderful pair of earrings that had been presented to Adelina Patti + by a Gent who glided under the name of Khalil Bey, worth Millions! + When in Paris again in December there was a great stir about the + Private Picture Gallery of a very wealthy man who had met with + severe and great losses at the gaming table. Our friends tried to + obtain admission for us to see them, but through some slip we + failed. Upon our arrival in Nice, one day there was great confusion + and agitation among the Eager. Servants were standing in corners + and evidence of something was very vivid. Finally the mystery was + solved. And we learned that a great Prince had arrived from St. + Petersburg. A Turk! Who was sharing our fate (the order of things + is all reversed in Nice. You commence life there by beginning at + the top and working your way down) and taken rooms on the 6th + floor, accompanied by 2 servants, one especially to take care of + the Pipe. His name is Khalil Bey--about 50 years old--a hard, + Chinese, cast-iron face run when the iron was very hot--sinking + well into the mould--one eye almost blind--short small feet--he + seemed to commence to grow at the feet and grew bigger and wider as + he went up. + + _3rd._ He moves in the best "society" over here--has his Box at the + Opera--tells frankly his losses at cards--so many million + francs--is a man of influence even among a certain class and that + far above mediocre. Met him at an evening entertainment. Found him + a great admirer of Patti in certain _rôles_--very good judgment + upon musical matters in general--and a professed _Gambler_. + + _4th._ Rained all day. A lost day to comfort outside and in. + + _5th._ Another day of the same sort. Weary with looking at the + sea. + + _6th._ Clearing. Sunshine at intervals. + + _7th._ Mr. Kinney called in afternoon. Conversation related to + Americans in Europe. Came to the conclusion that as a general rule + none but the class denominated "fast" come to Europe and like it. + Mr.---- said he would give any American young gentleman or lady + just 18 months in European society to lose all refinement and all + moral principle, young ladies in particular. The moral principle + cannot be strong when one is _laughed at for blushing_! + + _8th._ Mr. and Mrs. L---- came over in the evening. Sat two hours. + Discussed Europe generally and decided _America_ was the _only + place for decent people to live in_. _Death_ is all over Europe, an + epidemic that has no cure. Death of all moral responsibility. Death + of ambition in the way of virtue. Death of all comforts of life. + The last man that dies will be carried from the _card table_. + +In my own recollection of Nice the two men principally mentioned in my +mother's diary, Khalil Bey and Admiral Farragut, stand out strikingly. +Khalil Bey was a fabulously rich Turk who spent his life wandering +luxuriously over the face of the earth with a huge retinue of retainers +nearly as picturesque as he was. He was a big, dark, murderous looking +creature, not unattractive in a sinister, strange, and piratical way. He +had a wild and lurid record and was especially notorious for his +reckless gambling, at which his luck was said to be miraculous. He was +an opera enthusiast, having heard it in every city in Europe, and was +one of Adelina's admirers. My mother disliked him exceedingly, declaring +he was like a big snake. But my mother never had any tolerance for +foreign noblemen. There were many of them at Nice and her comments were +caustic and often apt. I remember her casual summing up of the Marquis +de Talleyrand (the particular friend of Mrs. Stevens, an American woman +from Hoboken whom he afterwards married) as "a young man belonging to +some goose pond or other!" + +Admiral Farragut, who was in the harbour with his flagship the +_Hartford_ and several other American battle-ships, was greatly fêted, +being just then a great hero of the war. The United States Consul gave a +reception for him which he explained in advance was to be +"characteristically American." The only noticeable thing about the +entertainment seemed to be the quantity and variety of drinkables that +were unceasingly served by swift and persuasive waiters. The +Continentals must have had a startling impression of American thirst! +The Admiral himself, however, was hardly given time to swallow anything +at all, people were so anxious to ask him questions and to shake hands. + +The Stebbinses and McHenrys joined us when we had been in Nice only a +short time, and, after a little stay there together, we went on by way +of Genoa and the Corniche Road to Pisa, and thence to Florence. At +Florence we met the Admiral again and found him more charming the better +we knew him. In Florence, too, we had several glimpses of the Grisi +family, Madame and her three daughters. Grisi was, I think, a striking +example of a singer being born and not made. When she sang Adalgisa in +_Norma_ in Milan, she made a sudden and overwhelming hit. Next day every +one was rushing about demanding, "Who was her teacher? Who gave her this +wonderful style and tone?" Grisi herself was asked about it and she gave +the names of several teachers under whom she had worked. But, needless +to say, another Grisi was never made. In her case it didn't happen to be +the teacher. Often the credit is given to the master when it really +belongs to the pupil, or, rather, to _le bon Dieu_ who made the vocal +chords in the first place. For, however we may agree or disagree about +fundamental requirements for an artist--breath control, voice placing, +tone colour, interpretation,--the simple fact remains that the one great +essential for a singer is a voice! One little story that I recall of +Grisi interested me. It was said that, when she was growing old and +severe exertion told on her, she always, after her fall as Lucretia +Borgia, had a glass of beer come up through the floor to her and would +drink it as she lay there with her back half turned to the audience. +This is what was _said_; and it seemed to me like a very good scheme. + +The director of the railway between Rome and Naples, M. De la Haute, put +his private car at our disposal. In the present era of cars equipped +with baths and barber shops, libraries and writing rooms, it would seem +primitive, but it was quite the last word in the railroad luxury of that +period. I was charmed with the Italian scenery as we steamed through it +and, above all, with the highly pictorial peasants that we passed. Their +clothes, of quaint cut and vivid hues, were exactly like stage costumes. + +"Why," I exclaimed excitedly, peering from the car window, "they are all +just out of scenes from _Fra Diavolo_!" + +We were, indeed, going through the mountains of the _Fra Diavolo_ +country, where the inhabitants lived in continual fear of the bands of +brigands that infested the mountains. Zerlina and Fra Diavolo were +literally in their midst. + +M. De la Haute gave a delightful breakfast for us on one of the terraces +outside Naples with the turquoise blue bay beneath, the marvellous +Italian sky overhead, and Vesuvius before us. Albert Bierstadt, the +American artist, was of the company, and afterwards turned up in Rome, +whither we went next. When we made the ascent of Vesuvius, my mother +recounts in her diary: "There must have been at least a hundred Italian +devils jumping about and screaming to take us up. It seemed as if they +must have just jumped out of the burning brimstone." + +In Rome we dined with Charlotte Cushman. This was, of course, some years +before her death and she was not yet ravaged by her tragic illness. She +was very full of anecdotes of her friends, the Carlyles, Tennyson, and +others, whom she had just left in England. To our little party was added +Emma Stebbins, who had been doing famously in sculpture, and, also, +Harriet Hosmer, the artist, as well as one or two clever men. It was +Carnival Week, and so I had my first glimpse of a true Continental +_festa_. I had never before seen any real Latin merriment. The +Anglo-Saxon variety is apt to be heavy, rough, or vulgar. But those +fascinating people had the wonderful power of being genuinely and +innocently gay. They became like happy children at play. They threw +confetti, sang and laughed, and tossed flowers about. It was a veritable +lesson in joy to us more sober and commonplace Americans who looked on. + +While I was in Rome I was presented to the Pope, Pius IX, a most lovely +and genial personality with a delightful atmosphere about him. I was +told that he had very much wanted to be made Pope and had played the +invalid so that the Cardinals would not think it was very important +whether they elected him or not; so that they could say (as they did +say), "Let us elect him:--he'll die anyhow!" He was duly elected and, +just as soon as he was in the Pontifical Chair, his health became +miraculously restored! When we were presented I could not help being +amused at the extraordinary articles brought by people for the good man +to bless. One woman had a pair of marble hands. Another offered the +Pontiff a photograph of himself; and his Holiness had evident difficulty +in keeping a straight face as he explained to her that really he could +not bless a likeness of himself. Etiquette at these Vatican receptions +is very strict as to what one must wear, what one must do, and where one +must stand. Sebasti, of Sebasti e Reali, the famous Roman bankers, has +the tale to tell of a Hebrew millionaire from America who contrived to +secure an invitation to one of these select audiences and, not being +able to see the Pope clearly on account of the crowd, climbed upon a +chair to get a better view. In the twinkling of an eye a dozen +attendants were after him, whispering harshly, "Giù! Giù! Giù!" ("Get +down! Get down! Get down!") and the Israelite climbed down exclaiming in +crestfallen accents: "How did you know it?" + +I have never been presented to the present Pope, but I gather from my +friends in Rome that his administration is, as usual, a rather +complicated affair. The ruling power is Cardinal Rampolla, the Mephisto +of the Church, for whom a distinguished Marchesa has a _salon_ and +entertains, so that, in this way, he can meet people on neutral ground. + +On our return trip we crossed Mont Cenis by diligence. From Lombardy, +with the smell of orange flowers all about us, we mounted up and up +until the green growing things became fewer and frailer, and the air +chillier and more rarified. Between six and seven thousand feet up we +struck snow and changed to a sleigh. We made the whole trip in eleven +hours--a record in those days. Think of it, you modern tourists who +cross Mont Cenis in three! But you will do well to envy us our diligence +and sleigh just the same, for you--oh, horrors!--have to do it through a +tunnel instead of over a mountain pass! We felt quite adventurous, for +it was generally considered a rather hazardous undertaking. By March +first we were back again in Paris and, before the end of the month, Mr. +Jarrett and Arditi joined us with my renewed contract with Colonel +Mapleson. + +It seemed to me a very short period before it was time for me to go back +to Drury Lane for the real London season. Spring had come and Mapleson +was ready to make a record opera season; so we said good-bye to our +friends in Paris and turned once more toward England. + + + + +CHAPTER XVI + +FELLOW-ARTISTS + + +My mother's diary reads as follows: + + _March 25_ Left Paris for London accompanied by Arditi and Mr. + Jarrett. Came by Dover and Calais. Very sick. Had a band on the + boat to entice the passengers into the idea that everything was + lovely and there is no such thing as seasickness. Arrived in London + at ten minutes before six. + + _28._ Went out house-hunting. Rooms too small. + + _29._ House-hunting. Dirty houses. A vast difference between + American and English housekeeping. Couldn't stand it. Visited ten. + Col. Chandler came in the evening. Miss Jarrett went with us. + + _30._ Went again. Saw a highfalutin Lady who said she wanted to get + a _fancy price_ for her house. Couldn't see it. + + _April 1st._ Miss Jarrett, Lou and I started again and had about + given up the ship when Louise discovered a house with "to let" on + it. So we ventured in without cards. Lovely! _Neat_ and _nice_. + Beautiful large garden, lawn, etc. We were taken to see the Agent + who had it in charge. When we got outside we 3 embraced each other + and I screamed with _joy_. She (the Landlady) was the first to have + a house "to let" that was not painted and powdered an inch thick. + + _2._ Rehearsal of _Traviata_ for the 4th. Three hours long. + Bettini, Santley, Poley and "Miss Kellogg." + + _3._ Stage rehearsal. + + _4._ First appearance in the regular season of Miss Kellogg in + _Traviata_. Prince of Wales came down end of 2nd act and + congratulated her warmly. Also brought the warmest congratulations + from the Princess--splendid--called out three times--received 8 + bouquets. Forgot powder--sent Annie home--too late--hurried, + daubed, nervous, out of breath. Couldn't get champagne opened quick + enough--rushed and tore--delayed orchestra 5 minutes--got on all + right--at last--went off splendidly. Miss Jarrett, Mr. Jarrett, + Arditi, Mr. Bennett of the Press [critic of _The Daily Telegraph_] + came and congratulated Louise. The Prince of Wales was very + kind--said he remembered the hospitality of the Americans to him + years agone. [Louise] Had a new ball room dress--all white with red + camilias. + +This somewhat incoherent record as jotted down by my mother is sketchy +but true in spirit. Never in my life, before or since, was I ever so +nervous as at our opening performance in London of _Traviata_; no, not +even had my American _début_ tried me so sorely. Everything in the world +went wrong that could go wrong on this occasion. I forgot my powder and +the skirt of my dress, and Annie, my maid, had to rush home in a cab to +get them. I tore my costume while making my first entrance and had to +play the entire act with a streamer of silk dangling at my feet. I went +on half made up, daubed, nervous, out of breath. _Never_ was I in such a +state of nerves. But to my astonishment I made a very big success. There +was a burst of applause after the first act and I could hardly believe +my ears. It struck me as most extraordinary that what I considered so +unsatisfactory should please the house. Several of the artists singing +with me came to me during the evening much upset. + +"Don't you know why everything on the stage has been going so badly +to-night?" they said. "We've a _jettatura_ in front!" + +Madame Erminie Rudersdorf, the mother of Richard Mansfield, was in one +of the boxes; and she was generally believed to have the Evil Eye. The +Italian singers took it very seriously indeed and made horns all through +the opera (that is, kept their fingers crossed) to ward off the satanic +influence! Madame Rudersdorf was a tall, heavy, and swarthy Russian with +ominously brilliant eyes; and one of the most commanding personalities I +ever came in contact with. Although she had a dangerously bad temper, I +never saw any evidences of it, nor of the _jettatura_ either. She came +that night and congratulated me:--and it meant something from her. + +My professional vocation has brought me up against almost every +conceivable superstition, from Brignoli's stuffed deer's head to the +more commonplace fetish against thirteen as a number. But I never saw +any one more obsessed by an idea of this sort than Christine Nilsson. +She actually would not sing unless some one "held her thumbs" first. +"Holding thumbs" is quite an ancient way of inviting good luck. One +promises to "hold one's thumbs" for a friend who is going through some +ordeal, like a first night or an operation for appendicitis or a wedding +or anything else desperate. Nilsson was the first person I ever knew who +practised the charm the other way about. Before she would even go on the +stage somebody, if only the stage carpenter, had to take hold of her two +thumbs and press them. She was convinced that the mystic rite brought +her good fortune. Many of the Italian artists that I knew believed in +the efficacy of coral as a talisman and always kept a bit of it about +them to rub "for luck" just before they went on for their part of the +performance. Somebody has told me that Emma Trentini had a queer +individual superstition: when she was singing for Hammerstein she would +never go on the stage until he had given her a quarter of a dollar! +Ridiculous as all these _idées fixes_ appear when writing them down, I +am convinced that they do help some people. A sense of confidence is a +great, an invaluable thing, and whatever can bring that about must +necessarily, however foolish in itself, make for a measure of success. I +caught Nilsson's "holding thumbs" trick myself without ever believing in +it, and often have done it to people since in a sort of general +luck-wishing, friendly spirit. The last time I was in Algiers I entered +an antique shop that I always visit there and found the little woman who +kept it in a somewhat indisposed and depressed state of mind:--so much +so in fact that when I left I pinched her thumbs for luck. Not long +afterwards I had the sweetest letter from her. "I cannot thank you +enough," she wrote; "you did something--whatever it was--that has +brought me luck. I feel sure it is all through you!" + +To return to my mother's diary after our first performance of _Traviata_ +in London: + + _Sunday._ Sat around. Afternoon drove through Hyde Park. + + _Monday 6th._ Rehearsal of _Gazza Ladra_. I went all over to find + dress for Linda--failed. + + _Tuesday._ Moved out to 48 Grove End Road--8 guineas a week. + Received check on County Bank from Mapleson for £100. Drew the + money. + + _Wednesday 8th._ Heard rehearsal of _Gazza Ladra_. Remained in + theatre till 5.25 P.M. fitting costume. Rode home in 22 minutes. + + _Thursday 9th._ Saw Linda. Magnificent. Best thing. Called out + three times. Bouquet--dress--yellow. _Moire_ blue satin apron--pink + roses--gay! + + _Friday--Good Friday._ Regulated house. In the evening _Don + Giovanni_ was performed. Louise wore her Barber dress--pink satin + one--made by Madame Vinfolet in New York--splendid! Poli told me + that in the height of the Messiah Season he often made 75 guineas a + week. He looked at his operatic engagement as secondary. + + _Sunday 12._ Louise received basket of Easter eggs with a beautiful + bluebird over them from Mrs. McHenry--Paris--beautiful--shall take + it to America. Mrs. G---- dined with us at 5. + + _13th._ Rehearsal of _G. Ladra_--3 hours. I took cold waiting in + cold room. No letters. + + _Tuesday 14._ Letters from Mary Gray, Nell and Leonard and Carter. + Pay day at Theatre but it didn't come. 3 hours rehearsal. At 4 P.M. + Louise, Mr. S---- and I called by appointment upon the Duchess of + Somerset. Met her 3 nieces and the Belgian Minister--a splendid + affair--tea was served at 5--went home--dined at 6--went to Covent + Garden to hear Mario & Fionetti, the latter said to be the best + type of Italian school. Louise thought little of it. Didn't know + whether to think less of Davidson's judgment or more of her own. + + * * * * * + + _21st._ Green room rehearsal of _Gazza Ladra_. _Don Giovanni_ in + the evening--fine house. + + _22nd._ Rehearsed one act of _Gazza Ladra_. Louise tired and + nervous. Rained. Santley rode part way home with us. + + _23rd._ _Rigoletto_--full house--Duke of Newcastle brought Lord + Duppelin for introduction. Opera went off splendidly. Check for + £100. Saw the Godwins--Bryant's son-in-law. + + _24th. Friday._ Drew the money. Reception at the Langs. + + _25th._ Louise went to new Philharmonic to rehearsal. In the + evening went to Queen's Theatre to see Toole in _Oliver + Twist_--splendid. Mr. Santley went to Paris. + + _26th. Sunday._ Dr. Quinn, Mr. Fechter and Arditi called. Louise + and Miss Jarrett washed the dog! [This pet was one of the puppies + of Titjiens's tiny and beautiful Pomeranian and I had it for a long + time and adored it.] The 3 Miss Edwards called. Letter from Sarah. + + _27._ Louise and I go to Rehearsal of _Gazza Ladra_ and to hear Mr. + Fechter in _No Thoroughfare_. He thinks more of himself than of the + thoroughfare--good performance though. Letter from George + Farnsworth. + + _28._ Clear and cold. Rehearsed _Gazza Ladra_. + + _29._ [Louise] sang at Philharmonic--duet _Nozze di Figaro_ with + Foli. + + _30th._ Long rehearsal of Gazza. Dined at Duchess of Somerset's at + 8 P.M. Met many best men of London. Duke of Newcastle took Louise + in to dinner. Col. Williams took me. Duchess is an old tyrant--sang + Louise to death--unmerciful--I despise her for her selfishness. + +Indeed, every minute of those spring weeks was occupied and more than +occupied. I never was so busy before and never had such a good time. The +"season" was a delightful one; and certainly no one had a more varied +part in it than I. Thanks to the Dowager Duchess and our friends we went +out frequently; and I was singing four and five times a week counting +concerts. Private concerts were a great fad that season and I have often +sung at two or three different ones in the same evening. + +Colonel Mapleson was in great feather, having three _prime donne_ at his +disposal at once, for Christine Nilsson had soon joined us, that +curious mixture of "Scandinavian calm and Parisian elegance" as I have +heard her described. No two singers were ever less alike, either +physically or temperamentally, than she and I; yet, oddly enough, we +over and over again followed each other in the same _rôles_. Titjiens, +Nilsson, and I sang together a great deal that season, not only in opera +but also in concert. Our voices went well together and we always got on +pleasantly. Madame Titjiens was no longer at the zenith of her great +power, but she was very fine for all that. I admired Titjiens greatly as +an artist in spite of her perfunctory acting. Cold and stately, she was +especially effective in purely classic music, having at her command all +its traditions:--Donna Anna for instance, and Fidelio and the Contessa. +I sang with her in the Mozart operas. Particularly do I recall one night +when the orchestra was under the direction of Sir Michael Costa. Both +Titjiens and Nilsson were singing with me, and the former had to follow +me in the _recitative_. Where Susanna gives the attacking note to the +Contessa Sir Michael's 'cello gave me the wrong chord. I perceived it +instantly, my absolute pitch serving me well, but I hardly knew what to +do. I was singing in Italian, which made the problem even more +difficult; but, as I sang, my sixth sense was working subconsciously. I +was saying over and over in my brain: "_I've got to give Titjiens the +right note or the whole thing will be a mess. How am I going to do it?_" +I sang around in circles until I was able to give the Contessa the +correct note. Titjiens gratefully caught it up and all came out well. +When the number was over, both Titjiens and Nilsson came and +congratulated me for what they recognised as a good piece of +musicianship. But Sir Michael was in a rage. + +"What do you mean," he demanded, "by taking liberties with the music +like that?" + +One cannot afford to antagonise a conductor and he was, besides, so +irascible a man that I did not care to mention to him that his 'cello +had been at fault. He was a most indifferent musician as well as a +narrow, obstinate man, although London considered him a very great +leader. He only infuriated me the more by remarking indulgently, one +night not long after, as if overlooking my various artistic +shortcomings: "Well, well,--you're a very pretty woman anyway!" It was +his "anyway" that irrevocably settled matters between us. He disliked +Nilsson too. He declared both in public and in private that her use of +her voice was mere "charlatanry and trickery" and not worthy to be +called musical. Nilsson was not, in fact, a good musician; few _prime +donne_ are. On one occasion she did actually sing one bar in advance of +the accompaniment for ten consecutive measures. This is almost +inconceivable, but she did it, and Sir Michael never forgave her. + +Mapleson was planning as a _tour de force_ with which to stun London a +series of operas in which he could present all of us. "All-star casts" +were rare in those days. Most managers saved their singers and doled +them out judiciously, one at a time, in a very conservative fashion. But +Mapleson had other notions. Our "all-star" Mozart casts were the wonder +of all London. Think of _Don Giovanni_ with Santley as the Don and +Titjiens as Donna Anna; Nilsson as Donna Elvira, Rockitanski of Vienna +the Leporello, and myself as Zerlina! Think of _Le Nozze di Figaro_ with +Titjiens as the Countess, Nilsson Cherubino, Santley the Count, and me +as Susanna! These were casts unequalled in all Europe--almost, I +believe, in all time! + +Gye, of Covent Garden, declared that we were killing the goose that laid +the golden egg by putting all our _prime donne_ into one opera. He said +that this made it not only impossible for rival houses to draw any +audiences, but that it also cut off our own noses. Nobody wanted to go +on ordinary nights to hear operas that had only one _prima donna_ in +them when they could go on star nights and hear three at once. However, +Colonel Mapleson found that the scheme paid and our "triple-cast" +performances brought us most sensational houses. Personally, as I have +already said, I never liked Mapleson, and I had many causes for +resentment in a business way. I remember one battle I had with him and +the stage manager about a dress I was to wear in _Le Nozze di Figaro_. I +do not recall what it was they wanted me to wear; but I know that, +whatever it was, I would not wear it. I left in the middle of rehearsal, +drove home in an excited state of indignation, and seized upon poor +Colonel Stebbins, always my steady help in time of trouble. He went, +saw, fought, and conquered, after which the rehearsals went on more or +less peaceably. + +Undoubtedly we had some fine artists at Her Majesty's, but occasionally +Mapleson missed a big chance of securing others. One day we were putting +on our wraps after rehearsal when my mother and I heard a lovely +contralto voice. On inquiry, we learned that Colonel Mapleson and Arditi +were trying the voice of a young Italian woman who had come to London in +search of an engagement. The Colonel and the Director sat in the +orchestra while the young woman sang an _aria_ from _Semiramide_. When +the trial was over the girl went away at once and I rushed out to speak +to Mapleson. + +"Surely you engaged that enchanting singer!" I exclaimed. + +"Indeed I didn't," he replied. + +She went directly to Gye at Covent Garden, who engaged her promptly and, +when she appeared two weeks later, she made a sensation. Her name was +Sofia Scalchi. + +Besides the private concerts of that season there were also plenty of +public concerts, a particularly notable one being a Handel Festival at +the Crystal Palace on May 1st, when I sang _Oh, had I Jubal's Lyre_! +Everything connected with that occasion was on a large scale. There were +seven thousand people in the house, the largest audience by far that I +had ever sung to before. The place was so crowded that people hung about +the doors trying to get in even after every seat was filled; and not one +person left the hall until after I had finished--a remarkable record in +its way! Some time later, when I was on my way home to America and +wanted to buy some antiques, I wandered into a little, odd Dickens-like +shop in Wardour Street. I wanted to have some articles sent on approval +to meet me at Liverpool, but hesitated to ask the old man in the shop to +take such a risk without knowing me. To my surprise he smiled at me a +kindly, wrinkled smile and said, with the prettiest old-fashioned bow: + +"Madame, you are welcome to take any liberties you will with my entire +stock. I heard you sing 'Jubal's Lyre.' I shall never forget it, nor be +able to repay you for the pleasure you gave me!" + +I always felt this to be one of my sincerest tributes. Perhaps that is +partly why the night of my first Crystal Hall Concert remains so clearly +defined in my memory. + +My mother's diary of this period continues: + + _May 4._ Mr. Santley dined with us. Played Besique in the evening. + _I beat_. + + _5._ Louise and I went to St. James Hall rehearsal. After went to + Theatre. Learned Nilsson did not have as good a house 2nd night as + Louise's first one in _La Gazza Ladra_. Mr. Arditi came to rehearse + the waltz. + + _6th._ _La Gazza Ladra._ Full house--enthusiasm--Duke of Newcastle + came in. + + _7._ Arditi's rehearsal for his concert at his house at 5 + P.M.--went--house full--hot and funny. Mr. S---- came in the + evening--played one game Besique. + + _8._ Intended to go to Haymarket Theatre but Miss J---- had + headache. Santley came in the afternoon to practise Susanna. + + _9._ Santley called. McHenry and Stebbins, with another Budget of + disagreeables from Mapleson who, not satisfied with cheating her + [Louise] out of $500., deliberately asked her to give him 3 nights + more! Shall have his money if we have to go to law about it. + + _Monday._ [Louise] Sang at Old Philharmonic flute song from _The + Star_. Mr. Stebbins went to Jarrett and told him Miss Kellogg would + sing no longer than the 15th--her engagement closes then--but that + Mapleson must pay her what he owed her--that he would have the + checks that day or sue him. + + _Tuesday._ Just got the second check of £150, showing that a little + _hell fire and brimstone administered in large doses_ is a good + thing. The Englishman has not outwitted the Yankee yet! + + _12._ Louise sang _Don Giovanni_--Titjiens "Donna Anna," Santley + "Don Giovanni," Nilsson "Elvira." Crowded house--seats sold at a + premium--Louise received all the honours--everything encored--4 + bouquets. Nilsson and Titjiens were encored only for the grand + trio. The applause on _Batti Batti_ was something unequalled. + + _13._ Went to photographers. Miss Jarrett, Santley and ourselves + dined at Mr. Stebbins'--went to hear Lucca in _Fra Diavolo_--was + delighted--she was not pretty but intelligent--sang well--not + remarkable, but showed great cleverness--full of talent--acted it + well--filled out the scenes--kept the thing going. The Tenor was + good. I remained through the second act. Dropped my fan onto a bald + head. Went over to Drury Lane--heard one act of _The Hugenots_. + + _14._ Mr. S---- dined with us--played Besique in the + evening--Louise beat of course. + + _15._ [Louise] Sang _Don Giovanni_ to a full house. Bennett came + and Smith and Mapleson and Duke of Newcastle. + + _16._ Santley sang in rehearsal _Le Nozze di Figaro_. Mr. Stebbins + dined with us. Played solitaire in the evening with the new Besique + box. + +I sang several times at the Crystal Palace Concerts with Sims Reeves, +the idolised English tenor. Never have I heard of or imagined an artist +so spoiled as Reeves. The spring was a very hot one for London, although +to us who were accustomed to the summer heat of America, it seemed +nothing. But poor Sims Reeves evidently expected to have heat +prostration or a sunstroke, for he always wore a big cork helmet to +rehearsals, the kind that officers wear on the plains of India. The +picture he made sitting under his huge helmet with a white puggaree +around it, fanning himself feebly, was one never to be forgotten. He had +a somewhat frumpy wife who waited on him like a slave. I had little +patience with him, especially with his trick of disappointing his +audiences at the eleventh hour. But he could sing! He was a real artist, +and, when he was not troubling about the temperature, or his diet, he +was an artist with whom it was a privilege to sing. I remember singing +with him and Mme. Patey at a concert at Albert Hall. Mme. Patey was an +admirable contralto and gifted with a superb technique. We three sang a +trio without a rehearsal and, when it was over, Reeves declared that it +was really wonderful the way in which we all three had "taken breath" at +exactly the same points, showing that we were all well trained and could +phrase a song in the only one correct way. This was also noticed and +remarked upon by several professionals who were present. + +I also sang with Alboni. At an Albert Hall concert on my second visit to +England a year or two later, I said to her: + +"Madame, I cannot tell you how honoured I feel in singing on the same +programme with you." + +She bowed and smiled. She was a very, very large woman, heavily built, +but she carried her size with remarkable dignity. I was considerably +amused when she replied: + +"Ah, Mademoiselle, I am only a shadow of what I have been!" + +My most successful song that season was my old song _Beware_. It was +unusual to see a _prima donna_ play her own accompaniment, which I +always did to this song and to most _encores_. The simple, rather +insipid melody was written by Moulton, the first husband of the present +Baronne de Hegeman, and it was not long before it was the rage in the +sentimental younger set of London. How tired I became of that ridiculous +sign-post cover and the "As Sung by Miss Clara Louise Kellogg" staring +up at me! And how much more tired of the foolish tune: + +[Illustration: Musical notation; I know a maid-en fair to see, Take +care! Take care!] + +One of the greatest honours paid me was the command to sing in one of +the two concerts at Buckingham Palace given each season by the reigning +sovereign. I have always kept the letter that told me I had been chosen +for this great privilege. Cusins, from whom it came, was the Director of +the Queen's music at the Palace. + + + + +CHAPTER XVII + +THE ROYAL CONCERTS AT BUCKINGHAM + + +The Royal Private Concerts at Buckingham Palace formed in those days, +and I believe still form, the last word in exclusiveness. Many persons +who have been presented at court, in company with a great crowd of other +social aspirants, never come close enough to the inner circle of royalty +to get within even "speaking distance" of these concerts. In them the +court etiquette is almost mediæval in its brilliant formality; and yet a +certain intimacy prevails which could not be possible in a less +carefully chosen gathering. So sacred an institution is the Royal +Concert that they have a fixed price--twenty-five guineas for all the +solo singers, whatever their customary salaries,--the discrepancies +between the greater and the lesser being supposedly filled in with the +colossal honour done the artists by being asked to appear. + +Queen Victoria seldom presided at these or similar functions. The Prince +of Wales usually represented the Crown and did the honours, always +exceedingly well. I have been told by people who professed to know that +his good nature was rather taken advantage of by his august mother, who +not only worked him half to death in his official capacity, but never +allowed him enough income for the purpose. Personally, I always liked +the Prince. He was a tactful, courteous man with real artistic feeling +and cultivation. He filled a difficult position with much graciousness +and good sense. More than once has he come behind the scenes during an +operatic performance to congratulate and encourage me. The Princess was +good looking, but was said to be both dull and inflexible. The former +impression might easily have been the result of her deafness that so +handicapped her where social graces were concerned. She could not hear +herself speak and, therefore, used a voice so low as to be almost +inaudible. When she spoke to me I could not hear a word of what she +said. I hope it was agreeable. + +My mother's entries in her diary at this point are: + + _Monday. 17_. 3 P.M. Rehearsal at Anderson's for Buckingham Palace + Concert. Met Lucca there. A perfect original. Private concert in + the evening at No. 7 Grafton Street. Pinsuti conducted. Louise + _encored_ with _Beware_. Concert commenced at eleven. Closed at 2 + A.M. Saw about five bushels of diamonds. + + _18th. Tuesday._ Went to Buckingham Palace. Rehearsed at eleven. + Very good palace, but dirty. + + _19._ Rehearsal of Somnambula. Got home at 4. Mr. S---- came in the + evening. + + _20._ Buckingham Palace Concert. + +The rehearsal at Buckingham Palace was held in the great ballroom with +the Queen's orchestra, under Cusins, and the artists were Titjiens, +Lucca, Faure, and myself. These concerts were composed of picked singers +from both Covent Garden and Her Majesty's and were supposed to represent +the best of each. As my mother notes, I first met Pauline Lucca +there--such an odd little creature. She amused me immensely. She was +always doing absurd things and making quaint, entertaining speeches. +She was not pretty, but her eyes were beautiful. On this occasion, I +remember, Titjiens was rehearsing one of her great, classic _arias_. +When she had finished we all, the orchestra included, applauded. Lucca +was sitting between Faure and myself, her feet nowhere near touching the +floor, and she applauded rhythmically and quite indifferently, +slap-bang! slap-bang! slinging her arms out so as to hit both of us and +then slapping them together, the while she kicked up her small feet like +a child of six. She was regardless of appearances and was applauding to +please herself. + +Lucca used to warn me not to abuse my upper notes. We knew her as almost +a mezzo. She told me, however, that she had once had an exceedingly high +voice, and that one of her best parts was Leonora in _Trovatore_. She +had abused her gift; but she always had a delightful quality of voice +and put a great deal of personality into her work. + +The approach to the Palace on concert nights was very impressive, for +the Grenadier Guards were drawn up outside, and inside were other guards +even more gorgeously arrayed than the cavalry. In the concert room +itself was stationed a royal bodyguard of the Yeomen of the Guards. The +commanding officer was called the Exon-in-Waiting. The proportions of +the room were magnificent and there were some fine frescoes and an +effective way of lighting up the stained glass windows from the outside; +but the general impression was not particularly regal. The decorations +were plain and dull--for a palace. The stage was arranged with chairs, +rising tier above tier, very much like a stage for oratorio singers. +Before royalty appears, the singers seat themselves on the stage and +remain there until their turn comes to sing. This is always a trial to +a singer, who really needs to get into the mood and to warm up to her +appearance. To stand up in cold blood and just _sing_ is discouraging. +The prospect of this dreary deliberateness did not tend to raise our +spirits as we sat and waited. + +At last, after we had become utterly depressed and out of spirits, there +was a little stir and the great doors at the side of the ballroom were +thrown open. First of all entered the Silver-Sticks in Waiting, a dozen +or so of them, backing in, two by two. All were, of course, +distinguished men of title and position; and they were dressed in +costumes in which silver was the dominant note and carried long wands of +silver. They were followed by the Gold-Sticks in Waiting--men of even +more exalted rank--and, finally, by the Royal Party. We all arose and +curtesied, remaining standing until their Highnesses were seated. + +The concerts were called informal and therefore long trains and court +veils were not insisted on; but the men had to appear in ceremonial +dress--knee breeches and silk stockings--and the women invariably wore +gorgeous costumes and family jewels, so that the scene was one full of +colour and glitter. The uniforms of the Ambassadors of different +countries made brilliant spots of colour. The Prince of Wales and his +Princess simply sparkled with orders and decorations. I happened to hear +the names of a few of her Royal Highness's. They were the Orders of +Victoria and Albert, the Star of India, St. Catherine of Russia, and the +Danish Family Order. She also wore many of the crown jewels, and with +excellent taste on every occasion I have seen her. With a black satin +gown and court train of crimson, for example, she wore only diamonds; +while another time I remember she wore pearls and sapphires with a +velvet gown of cream and pansy colour. Such good sense and discretion in +the choice of gems is rare. So many women seem to think that any jewels +are appropriate to any toilet. + +Tremendously august personages used to be in the audiences of those +Buckingham Palace concerts at which I sang then and later, such as the +Duke and Duchess of Teck, the Prince and Princess Christian of +Schleswig-Holstein, the Duke and Duchess of Cambridge, the Crown Prince +of Sweden and Norway, the Duke and Duchess of Edinburgh. Indeed, +royalty, peers of the realm and ambassadors or representatives, and +members of the court were the only auditors. In spite of this the +concerts were deadly dull, partly, no doubt, because everybody was so +enormously impressed by the ceremony of the occasion and by the rigours +of court etiquette that they did not dare move or hardly breathe. There +was one woman present at my first Buckingham Palace concert, a +lady-in-waiting (she looked as if she had become accustomed to waiting) +who was even more stiff than any one else and about whose décolleté +there seemed to be no termination. Never once, to my certain knowledge, +did she move either head or body an inch to the right or to the left +throughout the performance. + +A breach of etiquette was committed on one occasion by a friend of mine, +a compatriot, who had accompanied me to one of these gilt-edged affairs. +She stood up behind the very last row of the chorus and--used her +opera-glasses! Not unnaturally, she wanted for once, poor girl, to get a +good look at royalty; but it is needless to say that she was hastily and +summarily suppressed. + +When the Prince and Princess were seated the concert could begin. There +were two customs that made those functions particularly oppressive. One +was that all applause was forbidden. An artist, particularly a singer or +stage person of any kind, lives and breathes through approbation: and +for a singer to sing her best and then sit down in a dead and stony +silence without any sort of demonstration, is a very chilling +experience. The only indication that a performance had been acceptable +was when the Prince of Wales wriggled his programme in an approving +manner. A hand-clap would have been a terrific breach of etiquette. The +other drawback--and the one that affected the guests even more than the +artists--was that, when once the Prince and Princess were seated, no one +could rise on any pretext or provocation whatever. I think it was at my +second appearance at the Royal Concerts that an amusing incident +occurred which impressed the inconvenience of this regulation upon my +memory. The Duchess of Edinburgh, daughter of the Czar, entered in the +Prince of Wales's party. She looked an irritable, dissatisfied, bilious +person; and I was told that she was always talking about being "the +daughter of the Czar of all the Russias" and that it galled her that +even the Princess of Wales took precedence over her. Those were the good +old days of tie-backs, made of elastic and steel, a sort of modified +hoop-skirt with all of the hoop in the back. The tie-back was the +passing of the hoop and its management was an education in itself. I +remember mine came from Paris and I had had a bit of difficulty in +learning to sit down in it gracefully. Well--the Duchess of Edinburgh +had not mastered the art. She was all right until she sat down and +looked very regal in a gown of thick, heavy white silk and the most +gorgeous of jewels--encrusted diamonds and Russian rubies, the latter +nearly the size of a pigeon's eggs. Her tiara and stomacher were so +magnificent that they appalled me. The Prince and Princess sat down and +every one else followed suit, the daughter of the Czar of all the +Russias among the others in the front row. And she sat down wrong. Her +tie-back tilted up as she went down; her skirt rose high in front, +revealing a pair of large feet, clad in white shoes, and large ankles, +nearly up to her knees. There was a footstool under the large feet and +they were very much in evidence the whole evening, posing, entirely +against their owner's will, on a temporary monument. The awful part of +it was that the Duchess knew all about it and was so furious that she +could hardly contain herself. It was a study to watch the daughter of +the Czar of all the Russias in these circumstances. Her face showed how +much she wanted to get up and pull down her dress and hide her robust +pedal extremities, but court etiquette forbade, and the Duchess +suffered. + +The end of everything, as a matter of course, was _God Save the Queen_ +and, as there were nearly always two _prime donne_ present, each of us +sang one verse. All the artists and the chorus sang the third, which +constituted "Good-night" and was the official closing of the +performance. I usually sang the first verse. When the concert was over, +the Prince and Princess with the lesser royalties filed out. They passed +by the front of the stage and always had some agreeable thing to say. I +recall with much pleasure Prince Arthur--the present Duke of +Connaught--stopping to compliment me on a song I had just sung--the +Polonaise from _Mignon_--and to remind me that I had sung it at Admiral +Dahlgren's reception at the Navy Yard in Washington during his American +visit. + +"You sang that for me in Washington, didn't you, Miss Kellogg?" he said; +and I was greatly pleased by the slight courteous remembrance. + +After royalty had departed every one drew a long breath of partial +relaxation. The guests could then move about with more or less freedom, +talk with each other, and speak with the artists if they felt so +inclined. I was impressed by the stiffness, the shyness and awkwardness +of the English people--of even these very great English people, the +women especially. One would suppose that authority and ease and +graciousness would be in the very blood of those who are, as the saying +is, "to the manner born," but they did not seem to have that "manner." +Finally I came to the conclusion that they really _liked_ to appear shy +and _gauche_, and deliberately affected the stiffness and the +awkwardness. + +So much has been said about the Victorian prejudice against divorce and +against scandal of all sorts that no one will be surprised when I say +that, on one occasion when I sang at the Palace, I was the only woman +singer whom the ladies present spoke to, although the gentlemen paid +much attention to the others. The Duchess of Newcastle was particularly +cordial to me, as were also the wife of our American Ambassador and +Consuelo, Duchess of Manchester. My fellow-artists on that occasion were +Adelina Patti and Trebelli Bettina and, as each of them had been +associated with scandal, they were left icily alone. At that time Patti +and Nicolini were not married and the papers had much to say about the +tenor's desertion of his family. I have sung with Nilsson and Patti and +Lucca at these concerts. I have sung with Faure and Santley and Capoul +(nice little Capoul, known in America as "the ladies' man") and I have +sung with Scalchi and Titjiens. I have sung there with even the great +Mario. + +There was a supper at the palace after the Royal Concerts--two supper +tables in fact--one for the royal family and one for the artists. I +caught a glimpse on my first appearance there of the table set for the +former with the historic gold plate, with which English crowned heads +entertain their guests. It was splendid, of course, although very heavy +and ponderous, and the food must needs have been something superlative +to have fitted it. I doubt if it was, however, as British cooks are apt +to be mediocre, even those in palaces. Cooking is a matter of the +Epicurean temperament or, rather, with the British, the lack of it. Our +supper was not at all bad in spite of this, although little Lucca did +turn up her nose at it and at the arrangements. + +"What!" she exclaimed tempestuously, "stay here to 'second supper'! +Never! These English prigs want to make us eat with the servants! You +may stay for their horrid supper if you choose. But I would rather +starve--" and off she went, all rustling and fluttering with childish +indignation. + +It was at one of these after-concert "receptions" at the palace that I +had quite a long chat with Adelina Patti about her coming to America. I +urged it, for I knew that a fine welcome was awaiting her here. But +Nicolini,--her husband for the moment,--who was sitting near, exclaimed: +"_Vous voulez la tuer!_" ("Do you want to kill her!") It seems that they +were both terribly afraid of crossing the ocean, although they +apparently recovered from their dread in later years. + +There was one Royal Concert which will always remain in my memory as the +most marvellous and brilliant spectacle, socially speaking, of my whole +life. It was the one given in honour of the Queen's being made Empress +of India and among the guests were not only the aristocracy of Great +Britain, but all the Eastern princes and rajahs representing her +Majesty's new empire. At that time hardly any one had been in India. +Nowadays people make trips around the world and run across to take a +look at the Orient whenever they feel inclined. But then India sounded +to us like a fairy-tale place, impossibly rich and mysterious, a country +out of _The Arabian Nights_ at the very least. + +My mother and I were then living in Belgrave Mansions, not far from the +palace nor from the Victoria Hotel where the Indian princes put up, and +we used to see them passing back and forth, their attendants bearing +exquisitely carved and ornamented boxes containing choice jewels and +decorations and offerings to "The Great White Queen across the +Seas,"--offerings as earnest of good faith and pledges of loyalty. I was +glad to be "commanded" for the Royal Concert at which they were to be +entertained, for I knew that it would be a splendid pageant. And it +turned out to be, as I have said, the richest display I ever saw. The +rich stuffs of the costumes lent themselves most fittingly to a lavish +exhibition of jewels. The ornaments of the royal princesses and +peeresses that I had been admiring up to that occasion seemed as nothing +compared to this array. Every Eastern potentate appeared to be trying to +vie with all the others as to the gems he wore in his turban. + +It would be impossible for me to say how interesting I found all this +sort of thing. It was like a play to me--a delicious play, in which I, +too, had my part. I am an imperialist by nature. I love pomp and +ceremony and circumstance and titles. The few times that I have ever +been dissatisfied with my experiences in the lands of crowned heads, it +was merely because there wasn't quite grandeur enough to suit my taste! + + + + +CHAPTER XVIII + +THE LONDON SEASON + + +Our house in St. John's Wood that we rented for our first London season +was small, but it had a front door and a back garden and, on the whole, +we were very happy there. Whenever my mother became bored or +dissatisfied she thought of the hotels on the Continent and immediately +cheered up. There many people sought us out, and others were brought to +see us. Newcastle was always coming with someone interesting in tow. +Leonard Jerome, who built the Jockey Club, came with Newcastle, I +remember, and so did Chevalier Wyckoff, who had something to do with +_The Herald_, and did not use his title. + +[Illustration: =Duke of Newcastle= + +From a photograph by John Burton & Sons] + +It was always said of the Duke and Duchess of Newcastle that "he married +her for her money and she married him for his title, so that they each +got what they wanted." It may have been true and probably was, for they +did not seem an ardently devoted couple, and yet it is difficult to +believe the rather cruel report--they were both so much too lovable to +merit it. The Duchess was a beauty and, when she wore the big, blue, +Hope Diamond,--(I have often seen her wearing it) she was a most +striking figure. As for Newcastle himself, I always found him a most +simple, warm-hearted, generous man, full of delicate and kindly +feelings. He had big stables and raced his horses all the time, but +it was said of him that he generally lost at the races and one might +almost know that he would. He was a sort of "mark" for the racing sharks +and they plucked him in a shameless manner. I first met the Newcastles +at the dinner table of the Dowager Duchess of Somerset, and more than +once afterwards has Newcastle whispered to her "hang etiquette" and +taken me in to dinner instead of some frumpy marchioness or countess. + +We became acquainted with the Tennants of Richmond Terrace. Their house +was headquarters for an association of Esoteric Buddhism;--A. P. +Sinnett, the author of the book entitled _Esoteric Buddhism_, was a +prominent figure there. The family is perhaps best known from the fact +that Miss Tennant married the celebrated explorer Stanley. But to me it +always stood for the centre of occult societies. The household was an +interesting one but not particularly peaceful. + +I suppose the world is full of queer people and situations, but I do +think that among the queerest of both must be ranked Lord Dudley, who +owned Her Majesty's Theatre. He lived in Park Lane and was a very grand +person in all ways, and, according to hearsay, firmly believed that he +was a teapot, and spent his days in the miserable hope that somebody +would be kind enough to put him on the stove! He did not go about +begging for the stove exactly; his desire was just an ever-present, +underlying yearning! He was a nice man, too, as I remember him. A man by +the name of Cowen represented the poor peer and we gave Cowen his +legitimate perquisites in the shape of benefit concerts and so forth; +but we all felt that the whole thing was in some obscure manner terribly +grim and pathetic. Many things are so oddly both comic and tragic. + +During the warm weather we went often into the country to dine or lunch +at country houses. I shall never forget Mr. Goddard's dinner at his +place. He had a glass house at the end of the regular house that was +half buried in a huge heliotrope plant which had grown so marvellously +that it covered the walls like a vine. The trunk of it was as thick as a +man's arm, and the perfume--! My mother wrote in her diary a single line +summing up the day as it had been for her: "Lovely day. Strawberries and +two black-eyed children." For my part, I gathered all the heliotrope I +wanted for once in my life. + +Mr. Sampson's entertainment is another notable memory. Mr. Sampson was +financial editor of that august journal _The London Times_, much sought +after by the large moneyed interests, and lived in Bushy Park, beyond +Kensington. Mrs. Heurtly was our hostess; and Lang, who had just been +running for Prime Minister, was there and, also, McKenzie, an East +Indian importer in a big way who afterwards became Sir Edward McKenzie, +through loaning to the Prince of Wales the money for the trousseau and +marriage of the Prince of Wales's daughter Louise to the Duke of Fife, +and who then was not invited to the wedding! It was through Sampson, +too, that I first met the famous critic Davidson, and I think it was on +the occasion of his party that I first met Nilsson's great friend Mrs. +Cavendish Bentinck. + +Among all the memories of that time stands out that of the home of the +dear McHenrys in Holland Park, overlooking the great sweep of lawn of +Holland House on which, it is said, the plotters of an elder day went +out to talk and conspire because it was the only place in London where +they could be sure that they would not be overheard. Alma Tadema lived +just around the corner and we often saw him. Another interesting +character of whom I saw a good deal at that time was Dr. Quinn, an +Irishman, connected through a morganatic marriage with the royal family. +He was very short and jolly, and very Irish. He had asthma horribly and +ought really to have considered himself an invalid. He gasped and +wheezed whenever he went upstairs, but he simply couldn't resist dinner +parties. He loved funny stories, too, not only for his own sake but also +because his friend, the Prince of Wales, liked them so much. My mother +was very ready in wit and usually had a fund of stories and jokes at her +command, and Dr. Quinn used to exhaust her supply, taking the greatest +delight in hearing her talk. He would come panting into the house, his +round face beaming, and gasp: + +"Any new American jokes? I'm dining with the Prince and want something +new for him!" + +He loved riddles and conundrums, particularly those that had a poetical +twist in them. One of his favourites was: + + _Why is a sword like the moon?_ + _Because it is the glory of the (k)night!_ + +I have heard him tell that repeatedly, always ending with a little +appreciative sigh and the ejaculation, "that is so poetical, isn't it?" + +One lovely evening we drove out to Greenwich to dinner, in Newcastle's +four-in-hand coach. It was not the new style drag, but a huge, lumbering +affair, all open, in which one sat sideways. There were postillions in +quaint dress and a general flavour of the Middle Ages about the whole +episode. There was nothing of the Middle Ages about the dinner however. +There were twenty-five of us present in all; among the number Lady Susan +Vane-Tempest, a beautiful woman with most brilliant black hair, and +Major Stackpoole, and dear Lady Rossmore, his wife (who was so impulsive +that I have seen her jump up in her box to throw me the flowers she was +wearing), and some of the Hopes (Newcastle's own family), that race that +always behaves so badly! A little later in the season, my mother and I +accepted with delight an invitation from the Duke and Duchess of +Newcastle to visit them at their place in Brighton. The Duke naively +explained that he had been having "a run of rotten luck" of late, and +thought that I might turn it. Apparently I did, for the very day after +we got there his horse won in the races. + +I sang, of course, in the evening, as their guest. There was no thought +of remuneration, nor could there be. The graceful way in which our dear +host showed his appreciation was to send me a pin, beautifully executed, +of a horse and jockey done in enamel, enclosed in a circle of perfect +crystal, the whole surrounded with a rim of superb diamonds and +amethysts--purple and white being his racing colours. The brooch was +inscribed simply with the date on which his horse ran and won. + +I wore that pin for years. When I had it cleaned at Tiffany's a long +time afterwards, it made quite a sensation, it was so unique. Once, I +remember, I was in the studio dwelling on Fifteenth Street of the +Richard Watson Gilders when I discovered that, having dressed in a +hurry, I had put my pin in upside-down. I started to change it, and then +said: + +"O, what's the use. Nobody will ever notice it. They are all too +literary and superior around here!" + +The first man Mrs. Gilder presented to me was evidently quite too much +interested in the pin to talk to me. + +"Excuse me," he at last said politely, "but you will like to know, I +feel sure, that your brooch is upside-down." + +"O, is it," said I sweetly. But I did not take the trouble to change it +even then, and, afterwards, I would not have done so for worlds, for I +should have been cheated out of a great deal of quiet amusement. One of +the contributors to _The Century_ was later presented to me, and the +effect of that pin upside-down was more irritating than it had been to +the first man. He almost stood on his head trying to discover what was +the trouble. At last: + +"You've got your pin upside-down," he snapped at me as though a personal +affront had been offered him. + +"I know I have," I snapped back. + +"What do you wear it that way for?" he demanded. + +"To make conversation!" I returned, nearly as cross as he was. + +"I don't see it," he said curtly. As a matter of fact I had just +realised that upside-down was the way to wear the pin henceforward. I +said to Jeannette Gilder the next day: + +"My upside-down pin was the hit of the evening. I am never going to wear +it any other way!" + +I have kept my word during all these years. Never have I worn +Newcastle's pin except upside-down, and I have never known anyone to +whom I was talking to fail to fall into the trap and beg my pardon and +say, "you have your brooch on upside-down." Years later I was once +talking to Annie Louise Gary in Rome and a perfectly strange man came up +and began timidly: + +"I beg your pardon, but your----" + +"I know," I told him kindly. "My pin is upside-down, isn't it?" + +He retreated, thinking me mad, I suppose. But the fun of it has been +worth some such reputation. Different people approach the subject so +differently. Some are so apologetic and some are so helpful and some, +like my _Century_ acquaintance, are so immensely and disproportionately +annoyed. + +But I am wandering far afield and quite forgetting my first London +season which, even at this remote day, is an absorbing recollection to +me. I had at that time enough youthful enthusiasm and desire to "keep +going" to have stocked a regiment of débutantes! Although I was quite as +carefully chaperoned and looked out for in England as I had been in +America, there was still an unusual sense of novelty and excitement +about the days there. I had all of my clothes from Paris and learned +that, as Sir Michael Costa had insultingly informed me, I was "quite a +pretty woman anyhow." Add to this the generous praise that the London +public gave me professionally, and is it to be considered a wonder that +I felt as if all were a delightful fairy tale with me as the princess? + +As my mother has noted in her diary, we went one evening to Covent +Garden to hear Patti sing. One really charming memory of Patti is her +Juliette. She was never at all resourceful as an actress and was never +able to stamp any part with the least creative individuality; but her +singing of that music was perfect. Maurice Strakosch came into our box +to present to us Baron Alfred de Rothschild who became one of the +English friends whom we never forgot and who never forgot us. Maddox, +too, called on us in the box that evening. He was the editor of a +little journal that was the rival of the _Court Circular_. Maddox I saw +a good deal of later and found him very original and entertaining. He +ordered champagne that night, so we had quite a little party in our box +between the acts. + +As my mother has also noted, I went to Covent Garden to hear Mario for +the first time. Fioretti was the _prima donna_, said to be the best type +of the Italian school. Altogether the occasion was expected to be a +memorable one and I was full of expectations. Davidson, the critic of +_The London Times_ and the foremost musical critic on the Continent, +except possibly Dr. Hanslick of Vienna, was full of enthusiasm. But I +did not think much of Fioretti nor, even, of Mario! Yes, Mario the +great, Mario the golden-voiced, Mario who could "soothe with a tenor +note the souls in Purgatory" was a bitter disappointment to me. I was +too inexperienced still to appreciate the art he exhibited, and his +voice was but a ghost of his past glory. Yet England adored him with her +wonderful loyalty to old idols. + +Several distinguished artists and musicians came into our box that +night, Randegger the singing teacher for one, and my good friend Sir +George Armitage. Sir George was breathless with enthusiasm. + +"There is no one like Mario!" he exclaimed, rubbing his hands with +delight. + +"This is the first time I ever heard him," I said. + +"Ah, what an experience!" he cried. + +"I should never have suspected he was the great tenor," I had to admit. + +"Oh, my dear young lady," said Sir George eagerly, "that 'la' in the +second act! Did you hear that 'la' in the second act? There was the old +Mario!" + +His devotion was so touching that I forebore to remind him that if one +swallow does not make a summer, so one "la" does not make a singer. When +poor Mario came over to America later he was a dire failure. He could +not hold his own at all. He could not produce even his "la" by that +time. Like Nilsson, however, he greatly improved dramatically after his +vocal resonances were impaired, for I have been told that when in +possession of his full voice he was very stiff and unsympathetic in his +acting. + +Sir George Armitage, by the way, was a somewhat remarkable individual, a +typical, well-bred Englishman of about sixty, with artistic tastes. He +was a perfect example of the dilettante of the leisure class, with +plenty of time and money to gratify any vagrant whim. His particular +hobby was the opera; and he divided his attentions equally between +Covent Garden with Adelina and Lucca, and Her Majesty's with Nilsson, +Titjiens, and Kellogg. When operas that he liked were being given at +both opera houses, he would make a schedule of the different numbers and +scenes with the hours at which they were to be sung:--9.20 (Covent +Garden), _Aria_ by Madame Patti. 10 o'clock (Her Majesty's), Duet in +second act between Miss Nilsson and Miss Kellogg. 10.30, Sextette at +Covent Garden, etc., etc. He kept his brougham and horses ready and +would drive back and forth the whole evening, reaching each opera house +just in time to hear the music he particularly cared for. He had seats +in each house and nothing else in the world to do, so it was quite a +simple matter with him, only,--who but an Englishman of the hereditary +class of idleness would think of such a way of spending the evening? He +was a dear old fellow and we all liked him. He really did not know much +about music, but he had a sincere fondness for it and dearly loved to +come behind the scenes and offer suggestions to the artists. We always +listened to him patiently, for it gave him great pleasure, and we never +had to do any of the things he suggested because he forgot all about +them before the next time. + +My mother's diary reads: + + _June 13._ Last night _Nozze di Figaro_. Mr. and Mrs. McHenry sent + five bouquets. Splendid performance. + + _15._ Dined at Duchess of Somerset's. + + _16._ Dined with Mr. and Mrs. McHenry. Stebbins--Vanderbilts. + + _18._ _Don Giovanni._ Checks from Mr. Cowen. Banker came to see us. + Duke of Newcastle--Sir George Armitage. + + _20._ Benedict's Morning Concert, St. James' Hall. _Encore_ + "Beware"--_Don Giovanni_ in the evening. + + _21. Sunday._ Dined with Duke and Duchess of Newcastle. Major + Stackpoole, Lady Susan Vane-Tempest and others. Rehearsed _La + Figula_. + + _Monday._ Rehearsal of _La Figula_. In the evening went to hear + Patti. Didn't like Patti. Received letter from Colonel Stebbins + from Queenstown. + + _Tuesday._ Rehearsed _La Figula_. Called at Langham on Godwin--all + came out in the evening. + + _Wednesday 24._ Morning performance of _Le Nozze_--got home at 6. + P.M. Charity concert for Mr. Cowen at 8.30 at Dudley House. + + _Thursday._ Rehearsal of _La Figula_. Concert in the evening at + Lady Fitzgerald's. + + _Monday._ Louise and I went to drive. Do not learn anything + definite about the future--where I am to be next winter--no one + knows. I do not see any settled home for me any more. Sometimes I + am satisfied to have it so--at others--get nervous and uneasy and + discontented. Yet I have lost interest in going home--it will be so + short a visit--so soon a separation--then to some other stranger + place--new friends--new faces--I want the old. The surface of life + does not interest me. + + _Tuesday._ Dined at Langs'--large party. + + _Wednesday 15._ Went to Crystal Palace--Mapleson's Benefit. The + whole performance closed with the most magnificent display of + Fireworks I ever saw--most marvellous. + + _16._ _Don Giovanni_--full house--great success in the + part--Duchess and Lady Rossmore threw splendid bouquets--house very + enthusiastic--papers fine--Mrs. McHenry and Mr. Sampson came + down--Duke of Newcastle and Major Stackpoole--Miss Jarrett. + + _Monday. Le Nozze di Figaro._ + + _Tuesday. La Figula._ + + _Thursday._ Went to theatre. Saw Nilsson and all the artists. Went + to hear Patti in _Romeo and Juliette_--Strakosch gave us the box. + Strakosch introduced Rothschilds. + + _Friday._ _Le Nozze di Figaro._ Baron Rothschilds, Sir George + Armitage came around. + + _Saturday._ Sir George breakfasted with Louise. Rothschilds + called--letter from Mr. Stebbins. + + _Sunday morning._ Dr. Kellogg of Utica called--spent several hours. + Santley called--and McHenry in the evening. + +I was greatly shocked by the heavy drinking in the 'sixties that was not +only the fashion but almost the requirement of fashion in England. My +horror when I first saw a titled and distinguished Englishwoman in the +opera box of the Earl of Harrington (our friend of the charming luncheon +party), call an attendant and order a brandy and soda will never be +forgotten. It was the general custom to serve refreshments in the boxes +at the opera, and bottles and glasses of all sorts passed in and out of +these private "loges" the entire evening. Indeed, people never dreamed +of drinking water, although they drank their wines "like water" +proverbially. Such prejudice as mine has two sides, as I realise when I +think of the landlady of our apartment which we rented during a later +London season in Belgrave Mansions. When singing, I had to have a late +supper prepared for me--something very light and simple and nourishing. +Our good landlady used to be shocked almost to the verge of tears by my +iniquitous habit of drinking water _pur-et-simple_ with my suppers. + +"Oh, miss," she would beg, "let me put a bit of sherry or _something_ in +it for you! It'll hurt you that way, Miss! It'll make you ill, that it +will!" + + + + +CHAPTER XIX + +HOME AGAIN + + +Mapleson asked me to stay on the other side and sing in England, +Ireland, and France at practically my own terms, but I refused to do so. +I had made my English success and now I wanted to go home in triumph. My +mother agreed with me that it was time to be turning homeward. So I +accepted an engagement to sing under the management of the Strakosches, +Max and Maurice, on a long concert tour. + +I have only gratitude for the manner in which my own people welcomed my +return. The critics found me much improved, and one and all gave me +credit for hard and unremitting work. "Here is a young singer," said +one, "who has steadily worked her way to the highest position in +operatic art." That point of view always pleased me; for I contend now, +as I have contended since I first began to sing, that, next to having a +voice in the first place, the great essential is to work; and then +_work_; and, after that, begin to WORK! + +New York as a city did not please me when I saw it again. I had +forgotten, or never fully realised, how provincial it was. Even to-day I +firmly believe that it is undoubtedly the dirtiest city in the world, +that its traffic regulation is the worst, and its cab service the most +expensive and inconvenient. All this struck me with particular force +when I came home fresh from London and Paris. + +My contract with the Strakosches was for twenty-five weeks, four +appearances a week, making a hundred performances in all. This tour was +only broken by a short engagement under my old director Maretzek at the +Academy of Music in Philadelphia, an arrangement made for me by Max +Strakosch when we reached that city in the spring; and, with the +exception of _Robert le Diable_, _Trovatore_, and one or two other +operas, I spent the next three years singing in concert and oratorio +entirely. It was not enjoyable, but it was successful. We went all over +the country, North, South, East, West, and everywhere found an +enthusiastic public. Particularly was this so in the South as far as I +personally was concerned. The poor South had not yet recovered from the +effects of the Civil War and did not have much money to spend on +amusements, but, when at Richmond the people learned that I was Southern +born, more than one woman said to me: + +"Go? To hear you! Yes, indeed; we'll hang up all we have to go and hear +you!" + +One of my popular fellow-artists on the first tour was James M. Wehli, +the English pianist. He was known as the "left-handed pianist" and was +in reality better suited to a vaudeville stage than to a concert +platform. His particular accomplishment consisted in playing a great +number of pieces brilliantly with his left hand only, a feat remarkable +enough in itself but not precisely an essential for a great artist, and, +even as a pianist, he was not inspired. + +My first appearance after my European experience was in a concert at the +Academy of Music in New York. It was a real welcome home. People cheered +and waved and threw flowers and clapped until I was literally in tears. +I felt that it did not matter in the least whether New York was a real +city or not; America was a real country! When the concert was over, the +men from the Lotus Club took the horses out of my carriage and dragged +it, with me in it, to my hotel. And oh, my flowers! My American title of +"The Flower _Prima Donna_" was soon reestablished beyond all +peradventure. Flowers in those days were much rarer than they are now; +and I received, literally, loads and loads of camellias, and roses +enough to set up many florist shops. Without exaggeration, I sent those +I received by _cartloads_ to the hospitals. And one "floral offering" +that I received in Boston was actually too large for any waggon. A +subscription had been raised and a pagoda of flowers sent. I had to hire +a dray to carry it to my hotel; and then it could not be got up the +stairs but had to spend the night downstairs. In the morning I had the +monstrous thing photographed and sent it off to a hospital. Even this +was an undertaking as I could not, for some reason, get the dray of the +night before; and had to hire several able-bodied men to carry it. I +hope it was a comfort to somebody before it faded! It is a pity that +this tribute on the part of Boston did not assume a more permanent form, +for I should have much appreciated a more lasting token as a remembrance +of the occasion. It must not be thought that I was unappreciative +because I say this. I love anything and everything that blooms, and I +love the spirit that offers me flowers. But I must say that the pagoda +was something of a white elephant. + +While thinking of Boston and my first season at home, I must not omit +mention of Mrs. Martin. Indeed, it will have to be rather more than a +mere mention, for it is quite a little story, beginning indirectly with +Wright Sandford. Wright Sandford was the only man in New York with a big +independent fortune, except "Willie" Douglass who spent most of his time +cruising in foreign waters. Wright Sandford was more of a friend of mine +than "Willie" Douglass, and I used to haul him over the coals +occasionally for his lazy existence. He had eighty thousand a year and +absolutely nothing to do but to amuse himself. + +"What do you expect me to do?" he would demand plaintively. "I've no one +to play with!" + +Whenever I was starting on a tour he would send me wonderful hampers put +up by Delmonico, with the most delicious things to eat imaginable in +them, so that my mother and I never suffered, at least for the first day +or two, from the inconveniences of the bad food usually experienced by +travellers. A very nice fellow was Wright Sandford in many ways, and to +this day I am appreciative of the Delmonico luncheons if of nothing +else. + +When we were _en route_ for Boston on that first tour,--a long trip +then, eight or nine hours at least by the fast trains--there sat close +to us in the car a little woman who watched me all the time and smiled +whenever I glanced at her. I noticed that she had no luncheon with her, +so when we opened our Delmonico hamper, I leaned across and asked her to +join us. I do not exactly know why I did it for I was not in the habit +of making friends with our fellow-travellers; but the little person +appealed to me somehow in addition to her being lunchless. She was the +most pleased creature imaginable! She nibbled a little, smiled, spoke +hardly a word, and after lunch I forgot all about her. + +In Boston, as I was in my room in the hotel practising, before going to +the theatre, there came a faint rap on the door. I called out "Come in," +yet nobody came. I began to practise again and again came a little rap. +"Come in," I called a second time, yet still nothing happened. After a +third rap I went and opened the door. In the dark hall stood a woman. I +did not remember ever having seen her before; but I could hardly +distinguish her features in the passage. + +"I've come," said she in a soft, small voice, "to ask you if you would +please kiss me?" + +Of course I complied. Needless to say, I thought her quite crazy. After +I had kissed her cheek she nodded and vanished into the darkness while +I, much mystified, went back to my singing. That night at the theatre I +saw a small person sitting in the front row, smiling up at me. Her face +this time was somewhat familiar and I said to myself, "I do believe +that's the little woman who had lunch with us on the train!" and +then--"I wonder--_could_ it also be the crazy woman who wanted me to +kiss her?" + +During our week's engagement in Boston we were confronted with a +dilemma. Max Strakosch came to me much upset. + +"What are we going to do in Providence--the only decent hotel in the +town has burned down," he said. "You'll have to stop with friends." + +"I haven't any friends in Providence," I replied. + +"Well, you'll have to get some," he declared. "There's no hotel where +you could possibly stay and we can't cancel your engagement. The houses +are sold out." + +Presently a cousin of mine, acting as my agent on these trips, came and +told me that a man had called on him at the theatre whose wife wished to +"entertain" Miss Kellogg while she was in Providence! + +The idea appalled me and I flatly refused to accept this extraordinary +invitation; but those two men simply forced me into it. Strakosch, +indeed, regarded the incident as a clear dispensation from heaven. +"Nothing could be more fortunate," he said, "never mind who they are, +you go and stay with them anyway. You've wonderful business waiting for +you in Providence." + +Well--I went. Yet I felt very guilty about accepting a hospitality that +would have to be stretched so far. It was no joke to have me for a +guest. I knew well that we would be a burden on any household, +especially if it were a modest one. When I was singing I had to have +dinner at half-past four at the latest; I could not be disturbed by +anything in the morning and, besides, it meant three beds--for mother, +myself, and maid. In Providence we arrived at a tiny house at the door +of which I was met by the little woman of the train who was, as I had +surmised, the same one who had wanted me to kiss her. Supper was served +immediately. Everything was immaculate and dainty and delicious. Our +hostess had remembered some of the contents of the Delmonico hamper that +I had especially liked and had cooked them herself, perfectly. + +She made me promise never to stay anywhere else than with her when I was +in Providence and I never have. In all, throughout the many years that +have intervened between then and now, I must have visited her more than +twenty times. During this period I have been privileged to watch the +most extraordinary development that could be imagined by any +psychologist. When I first stopped with her there was not a book in the +house. While everything was exquisitely clean and well kept, it was +absolutely primitive. On my second visit I found linen sheets upon the +beds and the soap and perfume that I liked were ready for me on the +dressing-table. She studied my "ways" and every time I came back there +was some new and flattering indication of the fact. Have I mentioned her +name? It was Martin, Mrs. Martin, and her husband was conductor on what +was called the "Millionaire's Train" that ran between Boston and +Providence. I saw very little of him, but he was a nice, shy man, much +respected in his business connection. He was "Hezzy" and she was +"Lizy"--short for Hezekiah and Eliza. They were a genuinely devoted +couple in their quiet way although he always stood a trifle in awe of +his wife's friends. She was about ten years older than I and had a +really marvellous gift for growing and improving. After a while they +left the first house and moved into one a little larger and much more +comfortable. They had a library and she began to gather a small circle +of musical friends about her. Her knowledge of music was oddly +photographic. She would bring me a sheet of music and say: + +"Please play this part--here; this is the nice part!" But she was, and +is, a fine critic. Some big singers are glad to have her approval. As in +music so it was with books--the little woman's taste was instinctive but +unerring. She has often brought me a book of poetry, pointed out the +best thing in it, and said in her soft way: + +"Don't you think this is nice? I _do_ think it is _so_ nice! It's a +lovely poem." + +There was a young telegraph operator in Providence who had a voice. His +name was Jules Jordan. Mrs. Martin took him into her house and +practically brought him up. He, too, began to grow and develop and is +now the head of the Arion Society, the big musical association of +Providence that has some of the biggest singers in the country in its +concerts. Mrs. Martin entertains Jules Jordan's artistic friends and +goes to the concert rehearsals and says whether they are good or not. +She knows, too. "I am called the 'Singers'' friend," she said to me not +very long ago. She criticises the orchestra and chorus as well as the +solos, and she is right every time. I consider her one of the finest +critics I know. As for the professional critics, she is acquainted with +them all and they have a very genuine respect for her judgment. She is +the sort of person who is called "queer." Most real characters are. If +she does not like one, the recipient of her opinion is usually fully +aware of what that opinion is. She has no social idea at all, nor any +toleration for it. This constitutes one point in which her development +is so remarkable. Most women who "make themselves" acquire, first of +all, the social graces and veneer, the artificiality in surface matters +that will enable them to pass muster in the "great world." She has +allowed her evolution to go along different lines. She has really grown, +not in accomplishments but in accomplishment; not in manners but in grey +matter. Indeed, I hardly know how to find words with which to speak of +Mrs. Martin for I think her such a wonderful person; I respect and care +for her so much that I find myself dumb when I try to pay her a tribute. +If I have dared to speak of her humble beginnings in the first little +house it is because it seems to me that only so can I really do her +justice as she is to-day. She is a living monument of what a woman can +do with herself unaided, save by the force and the aspiration that is in +her. Meeting her was one of the most valuable incidents that happened to +me in the year of my home-coming. + +It seems as if I spent most of my time in those days being photographed. +Likenesses were stiff and unnatural; and I am inclined to believe that +the picture of me that has always been the best known--the one leaning +on my hand--marked a new epoch in photography. I had been posing a great +deal the day that was taken and was dead tired. There had been much +arranging; many attempts to obtain "artistic effects." Finally, I went +off into a corner and sat down, leaning my head on my hand, while the +photographer put new plates in his camera. Suddenly he happened to look +in my direction and exclaimed: + +"By Jove--if I could only--I'm going to try it anyway!" Then he shouted, +"Don't move, please!" and took me just as I was. He was very doubtful as +to the result for it was a new departure in photography; but the attempt +was very successful, and other photographers began to try for the same +natural and easy effect. Another time I happened to have a handkerchief +in my lap that threw a white reflection on my face, and the photographer +discovered from it the value of large light-coloured surfaces to deflect +the light where it was needed. This, too, I consider, was an unconscious +factor in the introduction of natural effects into photography. I never, +however, took a satisfactory picture. People who depend on expression +and animation for their looks never do. My likenesses never looked the +way I really did--except, perhaps, one that a photographer once caught +while I was talking about Duse, explaining how much more I admired her +than I did Bernhardt. + +In those concert and oratorio years I remember very few pleasurable +appearances: but unquestionably one of the few was on June 15th, when +the Beethoven Jubilee was held and I was asked to sing as alternative +_prima donna_ with Parepa Rosa. Although I had done well in the Crystal +Palace, I was not a singer who was generally supposed nor expected to +fill so large a place as the American Institute Colosseum on Third +Avenue, and many people prophesied that I could not be satisfactorily +heard there. I asked my friends to go to different parts of the house +and to tell me if my voice sounded well. Even some of my friends out in +front, though, did not expect to hear me to advantage. But, contrary to +what we all feared, my voice proved to have a carrying quality that had +never before been adequately recognised. The affair was a great success. +Parepa Rosa did not, as a matter of fact, have quite so big a voice as +she was usually credited with having. She had power only to _G_. Above +the staff it was a mixed voice. She could diminish to an exquisite +quality, but she could not reinforce with any particular volume or +vibration. + +There was another occasion that I remember with a deep sense of its +impressiveness:--that of the funeral of Horace Greeley, at which I sang. +I knew Horace Greeley personally and recall many interesting things +about him; but, naturally perhaps, what stands out in my memory is the +fact that, a few days before he died, he came to hear me sing Handel's +_Messiah_, being, as he said afterwards, particularly touched and +impressed by my rendering of _I know that my Redeemer liveth_. When he +came to die, the last words that he said were those, whispered faintly, +as if they still echoed in his heart. It may have been because of this +fact that it was I who was asked to sing at his funeral. + +On my return from abroad I was, of course, wearing only foreign clothes +and, as a consequence, found myself the embarrassed centre of much +curiosity. American women were still children in the art of dressing. At +one time I was probably the only woman in America who wore silk +stockings and long gloves. People could not accustom themselves to my +Parisian fashions. In Saratoga one dear man, whom I knew very well, came +to me much distressed and whispered that my dress was fastened crooked. +I had the greatest difficulty in convincing him that it was made that +way and that the crookedness was the latest French touch. A recent +fashion was that humped-up effect that gave the wearer the attitude then +known and reviled as the "Grecian Bend." It was made famous by +caricatures and jokes in the funny papers of the time, but I, being a +new-comer so to speak, was not aware of its newspaper notoriety. +Conceive my injured feelings when the small boys in the street ran after +me in gangs shouting "Grecian Bend! Grecian Bend!" + +Another point that hurt the delicate sensibilities of the concert-going +American public was the fact that at evening concerts I wore low-necked +gowns. On the other side the custom of wearing a dress that was cut down +for any and every appearance after dark, was invariable, and it took me +some time to grasp the cause of the sensation with my modestly +_décolleté_ frocks. People, further, found my ease effrontery, and my +carriage, acquired after years of effort, "putting on airs." In spite of +the cordiality of my welcome home, therefore, I had many critics who +were not particularly kind. Although one woman did write, "who ever saw +more simplicity on the stage?" there were plenty of the others who said, +"Clara Louise Kellogg has become 'stuck up' during her sojourn abroad." +As for my innocent desire to be properly and becomingly clothed, it +gave rise to comments that were intended to be quite scathing, if I had +only taken sufficient notice of them to think of them ten minutes after +they had reached my ears. That year there was put on the millinery +market a "Clara Louise" bonnet, by the way, that was supposed to be a +great compliment to me, but that I am afraid I would not have been seen +wearing at any price! + +In this connection one champion arose in my defence, however, whose +efforts on my behalf must not be overlooked. He was an Ohio journalist, +and his love of justice was far greater than his knowledge of the French +language. Seeing in some review that Miss Kellogg had "a larger +_répertoire_ than any living _prima donna_," this chivalrous writer +rushed into print as follows: + + We do not of course know how Miss Kellogg was dressed in other + cities, but upon the occasion of her last performance here we are + positively certain that her _répertoire_ did not seem to extend out + so far as either Nilsson's or Patti's. It may have been that her + overskirt was cut too narrow to permit of its being gathered into + such a lump behind, or it may have been that it had been crushed + down accidentally, but the fact remains that both of Miss Kellogg's + rivals wore _répertoires_ of a much more extravagant size--very + much to their discredit, we think ... + + + + +CHAPTER XX + +"YOUR SINCERE ADMIRER" + + +A man whose name I never learned dropped a big, fragrant bunch of +violets at my feet each night for weeks. Becoming discouraged after a +while because I did not seek him out in his gallery seat, he sent me a +note begging for a glance and adding, for identification, this +illuminating point: "_You'll know me by my boots hanging over!_" + +Who could disregard such an appeal? That night my eyes searched the +balconies feverishly. He had not vainly raised my hopes; his boots +_were_ hanging over, large boots, that looked as if they had seen +considerable service. I sang my best to those boots and--dear man!--the +violets fell as sweetly as before. I have conjured up a charming +portrait of this individual, with a soul high enough to love music and +violets and simple enough not to be ashamed of his boots. Would that all +"sincere admirers" might be of such an ingenuous and engaging a pattern. + +The variety of "admirers" that are the lot of a person on the stage is +extraordinary. It is very difficult for the stage persons themselves to +understand it. It has never seemed to me that actors as a class are +particularly interesting. Personally I have always been too cognisant of +the personalities behind the scenes to ever have any theatrical idols; +but to a great many there is something absolutely fascinating about the +stage and stage folk. The actor appears to the audience in a perpetual, +hazy, calcium glory. We are, one and all, children with an inherent love +for fairy tales and it is probably this love which is in a great measure +accountable for the blind adoration received by most stage people. + +I have received, I imagine, the usual number of letters from "your +sincere admirer," some of them funny and some of them rather pathetic. +Very few of them were really impertinent or offensive. In nearly all was +to be found the same touching devotion to an abstract ideal for which, +for the moment, I chanced to be cast. Once in a while there was some one +who, like a person who signed himself "Faust," insisted that I had "met +his eyes" and "encouraged him from afar." Needless to say I had never in +my life seen him; but he worked himself into quite a fever of resentment +on the subject and wrote me several letters. There was also a man who +wrote me several perfectly respectful, but ardent, love letters to +which, naturally, I did not respond. Then, finally, he bombarded me with +another type of screed of which the following is a specimen: + +"Oh, for Heaven's sake, say something,--if it is only to rate me for my +importunities or to tell me to go about my business! Anything but this +contemptuous silence!" + +But these were exceptions. Most of my "admirers'" letters are gems of +either humour or of sentiment. Among my treasures is an epistle that +begins: + + "Miss Clara Louise Kellogg + + Miss: + + Before to expand my feelings, before to make you known the real + intent of this note, in fine before to disclose the secrets of my + heart, I will pray you to pardon my indiscretion (if indiscretion + that can be called) to address you unacquainted," etc. + +Isn't this a masterpiece? + +There was also an absurdly conceited man who wrote me one letter a year +for several years, always in the same vein. He was evidently a very +pious youth and had "gotten religion" rather badly, for in every epistle +he broke into exhortation and urged me fervently to become a "real +Christian," painting for me the joys of true religion if I once could +manage to "find it." In one of his later letters--after assuring me that +he had prayed for me night and morning for three years and would +continue to do so--he ended in this impressive manner: + + " ...And if, in God's mercy, we are both permitted to walk 'the + Golden Streets,' I shall there seek you out and give you more fully + my reasons for writing you." + +Could anything be more entertaining than this naïve fashion of making a +date in Heaven? + +Not all my letters were love letters. Sometimes I would receive a few +words from some woman unknown to me but full of a sweet and +understanding friendliness. Mrs. Elizabeth Tilton, then the centre of +the stage scandal through her friendship with Henry Ward Beecher, wrote +me a charming letter that ended with what struck me as a very pathetic +touch: + + "I am unwilling to be known by you as the defiant, discontented + woman of the age--rather, as an humble helper of those less + fortunate than myself----" + +I never knew Mrs. Tilton personally, but have often felt that I should +have liked her. One of the dearest communications I ever received was +from a French working girl, a corset maker, I believe. She wrote: + + "I am but a poor little girl, Mademoiselle, a toiler in the sphere + where you reign a queen, but ever since I was a very little child I + have gone to listen to your voice whenever you have deigned to sing + in New York. Those magic tone-flowers, scattering their perfumed + sweetness on the waiting air, made my child heart throb with a + wonderful pulsation...." + +One of the favourite jests of the critics was my obduracy in matters of +sentiment. It was said that I would always have emotional limitations +because I had no love affairs like other _prime donne_. Once, when I +gave some advice to a young girl to "keep your eyes fixed upon your +artistic future," or some such similar phrase, the press had a good deal +of fun at my expense. "That" it was declared, "was exactly what was the +matter with Clara Louise; she kept her eyes fixed upon an artistic +future instead of upon some man who was in love with her!" I was rather +a good shot, very fond of target shooting, and many jokes were also made +on the supposed damage I did. One newspaper man put it rather more +aptly. "Not only in pistol shooting," he said, "but in everything she +aims at, our _prima donna_ is sure to hit the mark." + +My "sincere admirers" were from all parts of the house, but I think I +found the "gallery" ones most sincere and, certainly, the most amusing. +Max Maretzek used to say that he had no manner of use for an artist +unless she could fill the family circle. I am glad to be able to record +that I always could. My singing usually appealed to the people. _The +Police Gazette_ always gave me good notices! I love the family circle. +As a rule the appreciation there is greater because of the sacrifices +which they have had to make to buy their seats. When people can go to +hear good music every night, they do not care nearly so much about doing +it. + +I wonder if anybody besides singers get such an extraordinary sense of +contact and connection with members of their audiences? I have sometimes +felt as if thought waves, reaching through the space between, held me +fast to some of those who heard me sing. Who knows what sympathies, what +comprehensions, what exquisite friendships, were blossoming out there in +the dark house like a garden, waiting to be gathered? Letters--not +necessarily love letters--rather, stray messages of appreciation and +understanding--have brought me a similar sense of joy and of safe +intimacy. After the receipt of any such, I have sung with the pleasant +sense that a new friend--yes, friend, not auditor--was listening. I have +suddenly felt at home in the big theatre; and often, very often, have I +looked eagerly over the banked hosts of faces, asking myself wistfully +which were the strangers and which mine own people. + +It was not only in the theatre that I found "admirers." My vacations +were beset with those who wanted to look at and speak to a genuine +_prima donna_ at close range. Indeed, I had frequently to protect myself +from perfectly strange and intrusive people. Often I have gone to +Saratoga during the season. Saratoga was a fashionable resort in those +days and I always had a good audience. One incident that I remember of +Saratoga was a detestable train that invariably came along in the middle +of my performance--the evening train from New York. I always had to stop +whatever I was singing and wait for it to go by. One night I thought I +would cheat it and timed my song a little earlier so that I would be +through before the train arrived. It just beat me by a bar; and I could +hear it steaming nearer and nearing as I hurried on. As I came to the +end there was a loud whistle from the locomotive;--but, for once, luck +was on my side, for it was pitched in harmony with my final note! The +coincidence was warmly applauded. + +When on the road I not infrequently practised with my banjo at hotels. +It was more practicable to carry about than a piano and, besides, it was +not always an easy matter to hire a good piano. One time--also in +Saratoga--I was playing that instrument preparatory to beginning my +morning practice, when an old gentleman who had a room on the same +floor, descended to the office in a fine temper. He was a long, slim, +wiry old fellow, with a high, black satin stock about his bony neck, +very few hairs on his little round head, deep sunken eyes, pinched +features, and an extremely nervous manner. + +"See here," he burst out in a cracked voice, as he danced about on the +marble tiling of the office floor, "have you a band of nigger minstrels +in the house, eh! Zounds, sir, there's an infernal banjo tum, tum, +tumming in my ears every morning and I can't sleep. Drat banjoes--I hate +'em. And nigger minstrels--I hate 'em too. You must move me, sir, move +me at once. That banjo'll set me crazy. Move me at once, d'ye hear?--or +I'll leave the house!" + +"Why, sir," said the clerk suavely, "that banjo player is not a nigger +minstrel, at all, sir, but Miss Clara Louise Kellogg, who uses a banjo +to practise with." + +The hard lines in the old fellow's face relaxed, he looked sharply at +the clerk and, leaning over the counter, remarked: + +"What, Clara Louise Kellogg! W--why, I'll go up and listen! Zounds, man, +she's my particular favourite. She's charmed me with her sweet voice +many a time. D---- n it, give her another banjo! Tell her to play all +day if she wants to! Clara Louise Kellogg, eh? H'm, well, well!" + +He tottered off and, as I observed, after that so long as I stayed left +the door of his room open down the hall so that he could hear my "tum, +tum, tumming." + +A very different, though equally ingenuous tribute to my powers was that +given by an old Indian trapper who, when in Chicago to sell his hides, +went to hear me sing and expressed his emotions to a newspaper man of +that city in approximately the following language: + + I have heard most of the sweet and terrible noises that natives + make. I have heard the thunder among the Hills when the Lord was + knocking against the earth until it passed; and I have heard the + wind in the pines and the waves on the beaches, when the darkness + of night was in the woods, and nature was singing her Evening Song + and there was no bird nor beast the Lord has made, and I have not + heard a voice that would make as sweet a noise as nature makes when + the Spirit of the Universe speaks through the stillness; but that + sweet lady has made sounds to-night sweeter than my ears have heard + on hill or lake shore at noon, or in the night season, and I + certainly believe that the Spirit of the Lord has been with her and + given her the power to make such sweet sounds. A man might like to + have these sweet sounds in his ears when his body lies in his cabin + and his spirit is standing on the edge of the great clearing. I + wish she could sing for me when my eyes grow dim and my feet strike + the trail that no man strikes but once, nor travels both ways. + +Surely among my friends, if not among my "sincere admirers," I may +include Okakura, who came over here with the late John La Farge as an +envoy from the Japanese Government to study the art of this country as +well as that of Europe. His dream was to found some sort of institution +in Japan for the preservation and development of his country's old, +national ideals in art. His criticisms of Raphael and Titian, by the +way, were something extraordinary. As for music, he had a marvellous +sense for it. La Farge took him to a Thomas Concert and he was vastly +impressed by the music of Beethoven. One might have thought that he had +listened to Occidental classics all his life. But, for that matter, I +know two little Japanese airs that Davidson of London told me might well +have been written by Beethoven himself; so it may be that there is an +obscure bond of sympathy, which our less acute ears would not always +recognise, between our great master and the composers of Okakura's +native land. + +Okakura was only twenty-six when I first met him at Richard Watson +Gilder's studio in New York, but he was already a professor and spoke +perfect English and knew all our best literature. When Munkacsy, the +Hungarian painter, came over, his colleague, Francis Korbay, the +musician, gave him an evening reception, and I took my Japanese friend. +It was a charming evening and Okakura was the success of the reception. +When he started being introduced he was nothing but a professor. Before +he had gone the rounds he had become an Asiatic prince and millionaire. +He had the "grand manner" and wore gorgeous clothes on formal occasions. + +Some years later I called on his wife in Tokio. I considered this was +the polite thing for me to do although Okakura himself was in Osaka at +the time. Okakura had an art school in Tokio, kept up with the aid of +the Government, where he was trying to fulfil his old ambition of +preserving the individuality of his own people's work and of driving out +Occidental encroachments. At the school, where we had gone with a guide +who could serve also as interpreter, I asked for Madame. My request to +see her was met with consternation. I was asking a great deal--how much, +I did not realise until afterwards. Before I could enter, I was +requested to take off my shoes. This I considered impossible as I was +wearing high-laced boots. Furthermore, we were having winter weather, +very cold and raw, and nothing was offered me to put on in their place, +as the Japanese custom is at the entrances of the temples. My refusal to +remove my shoes halted proceedings for a while; but, eventually, I was +led around to a side porch where I could sit on a _chair_ (I was amazed +at their having such a thing) and speak with the occupants of the house +as they knelt inside on their heels. The _shoji_, or bamboo and paper +screen, was pushed back, revealing an interior wonderfully clever in its +simplicity. The furniture consisted of a beautiful brassier and two rare +kakamonos on the wall--nothing more. + +In came Madame Okakura in a grey kimono and bare feet. Down she went on +her knees and saluted me in the prettiest fashion imaginable. We talked +through the interpreter until her daughter entered, who spoke to me in +bad, limited French. The daughter was an unattractive girl, with an +artificially reddened mouth, but I thought the mother charming, like a +most exquisite Parisienne masquerading as a "Japanese Lady." + +Not long after my visit I saw Okakura himself and told him how much I +had enjoyed seeing his wife. He gave me an annoyed glance and remained +silent. I was nonplussed and somewhat mortified. I could not understand +what could be the trouble, for he acted as if his honour were offended. +In time I learned that the unpardonable breach of good form in Japan was +to mention his wife to a Japanese! + +So graceful, so delicate in both expression and feeling are the letters +that I have received from Okakura, that I cannot resist my inclination +to include them in this chapter,--although, possibly, they are somewhat +too personal. On January 4, 1887, he wrote: + + /* MY DEAR MISS KELLOGG: */ + + France lies three nights ahead of us. The returning clouds still + seek the western shore and the ocean rolls back my dreams to you. + Your music lives in my soul. I carry away America in your voice; + and what better token can your nation offer? But praises to the + great sound like flattery, and praises to the beautiful sound like + love. To you they must both be tiresome. I shall refrain. You + allude to the Eastern Lights. Alas, the Lamp of Love flickers and + Night is on the plains of Osaka. There are lingering lights on the + crown of the Himalayas, on the edges of the Kowrous, among the + peaks of Hira and Kora. But what do they care for the twilight of + the Valley? They stand like the ocean moon, regardless of the + tempest below. Seek the light in the mansion of your own soul. Are + you not yourself the _Spirit Nightingale of the West_? Are you not + crying for the moon in union with your Emersons and + Longfellows--with your La Farges and your Gilders? Or am I + mistaken? I enclose my picture and submit the translation of the + few lines on the back to your _axe of anger and the benevolence of + your criticism_ as we say at home. I need a great deal of your + benevolence and deserve more of your anger, as the lines sound so + poor in the English. However they do not appear very grand in the + original and so I submit them to your guillotine with a free + conscience. The lines are different from the former, for I forget + them--or care not to repeat. + + Will you kindly convey my best regards to Mrs. Gilder, for I owe so + much to her, to say nothing of your friendship! Will you also + condescend to write to me at your leisure? + + * * * * * + + (_Translation_:--One star floats into the ocean of Night. Past the + back of Taurus, away among the Pleiades, whither dost thou go? + Sadly I watch them all. My soul wanders after them into the + infinite. Shall my soul return, or--never?) + + VIENNA, March 4, 1887. + + MY DEAR MISS KELLOGG: + + The home of a traveller is in his sweet memories. Under the shadow + of Vesuvius and on the waters of Leman my thoughts were always for + America, which you and your friends have made so pleasant to me. + Pardon me therefore if my pen again turns toward you. How kind of + you to remember me! Your letter reached me here last night and I + regret that I did not stay longer in Paris to receive it sooner. + Will you not favour me by writing again? + + Europe is an enigma--often a source of sadness to me. The forces + that developed her are tearing her asunder. Is it because all + civilisations are destined to have their days and nights of Brahma? + Or was the principle that organised the European nations itself a + false one? Did they grasp the moon in the waters and at last + disturb the image? I know not. I only feel that the Spirit of + Unrest is standing beside me. War is coming and must come, sooner + or later. Conflicting opinions chase each other across the + continent as if the demons fought in the air before the battle of + men began. The policy of maintaining peace by increasing the + armies is absurd. It is indeed a sad state of things to make such a + sophism necessary. I am getting tired of this, though there is some + consolation that there are more fools in the world than the + Oriental. + + I have been rather disappointed in the French music. Perhaps I am + too much prejudiced by _The Persian Serenade_ to appreciate + anything else. The acting was artificial and there was no voice + which had anything of the Spirit Nightingale in it. You once told + me that you intended to cross the Atlantic this summer. When? My + dreams are impatient of your arrival. May you come soon and correct + my one-sided impression of Europe! + + I am going to Rome after two or three weeks' stay in this place. + That city interests me deeply, as yet the spiritual centre of the + West, whose voice still influences the politics of Central Europe. + In May I shall be at the Paris Salon and cross over to London in + the early part of June. + + It snows every day in Vienna and I spend my time mostly with the + old doctors of the University. Their talks on philosophy and + science are indeed interesting, but somehow or other I don't feel + the delight I had in your society in New York. Why? + + July 12, 1887. + + MY DEAR MISS KELLOGG: + + I am very glad to hear that you are in Europe. My duties in London + end this week and I have decided to start for Munich next morning, + thence to Dresden and Berlin. I am thus looking forward to the + great pleasure of meeting you again and gathering fragrance from + your conversation. Mrs. Gilder wrote to me that you were not quite + well since your tour in the West and my anxiety mingles with my + hopes. The atmosphere of English civilisation weighs heavily on me + and I am longing to be away. It seems that civilisation does not + agree with a member of an Eastern barbaric tribe. My conception of + music has been gradually changing. The Ninth Symphony has + revolutionised it. Where is the future of music to be? + + Many questions crowd on me and I am impatient to lay them before + you at Carlsbad. Will you allow me to do so? + + BERLIN. KAISERHAUF, July 24th. + + MY DEAR MISS KELLOGG: + + The Spirit of Unrest chases me northward. Dresden glided dimly + before me. Holbein was a disappointment. The Sistine Madonna was + divine beyond my expectation. I saw Raphael in his purity and was + delighted. None of his pictures is so inspired as this. Still my + thoughts wandered amid these grand creations. They flitted past in + a shower of colours and shadows and I have drifted hither through + the hazy forests of Heine and the troubled grey of Millet's + twilight.... + + To me your friendship is the boat that bears me proudly home. I + wait with pleasure any line you may send me there. Wishing every + good to you, I remain yours respectfully. + + KAISERHAUF, July 28th, 1887. + + MY DEAR MISS KELLOGG: + + Ten thousand thanks for your kind letter. My address in Japan is + Monbusho, Tokio, and if you will write to me there I shall be so + happy! The task which I have imposed upon myself--the preserving of + historical continuity and internal development, etc.,--has to work + very slowly. I must be patient and cautious. Still I shall be + delighted to confide to you from time to time how I am getting on + with my dream if you will allow me to do so. You say that you have + a hope of finding what you long for in Buddhism. Surely your lotus + must be opening to the dawn. European philosophy has reached to a + point where no advance is possible except through mysticism. Yet + they ignore the hidden truths on limited scientific grounds. The + Berlin University has thus been forced to return to Kant and begin + afresh. They have destroyed but have no power to construct, and + they never will if they refuse to _see_ more into themselves.... + + Hoping you the best and the brightest, I am + + Yours faithfully, + + OKAKURA KAKUDZO. + + +And so I come to one of all these who was really a "sincere admirer," +and a faithful lover, although I never knew him. It is a difficult +incident to write of, for I feel that it holds some of the deepest +elements of sentiment and of tragedy with which I ever came in touch. + +I was singing in Boston when a man sent me a message saying that he was +connected with a newspaper and had something of great importance about +which he wanted to see me. He furthermore said that he wished to see me +alone. It was an extraordinary request and, at first, I refused. I +suspected a subterfuge--a wager, or something humiliating of that sort. +But he persisted, sending yet another message to the effect that he had +something to communicate to me which was of an essentially personal +nature. Finally I consented to grant him the interview and, as he had +requested, I saw him alone. + +He was just back from the front where he had been war correspondent +during the heart of the Civil War, and he told me that he had a letter +to give to me from a soldier in his division who had been shot. The +soldier was mortally wounded when the reporter found him. He was lying +at the foot of a tree at the point of death, and the correspondent asked +if he could take any last messages for him to friends or relatives. The +soldier asked him to write down a message to take to a woman whom he had +loved for four years, but who did not know of his love. + +"Tell her," he said, speaking with great difficulty, "that I would not +try even to meet her; but that I have loved her, before God, as well as +any man ever loved a woman." He asked the reporter to feel inside his +uniform for the woman's picture. "It is Miss Kellogg," he added, just +before he died. "You--don't think that she will be offended if I send +her this message--now--do you?" + +He asked the correspondent to draw his sabre and cut off a lock of hair +to send to me, and the reporter wrote down the message on the only +scraps of paper at his disposal--torn bits scribbled over with reports +of the enemy's movements, and the names of other dead soldiers whose +people must be notified when the battle was over. And then the +soldier--my soldier--died; and the correspondent left him the picture +and came away. + +The scribbled message and the lock of hair he put into my hands, saying: + +"He was very much worried lest you would think him presumptuous. I told +him that I was sure you would not." + +I was weeping as he spoke, and so he left me. + + + + +CHAPTER XXI + +ON THE ROAD + + +Oh, those first tours! Not only was it exceedingly uncomfortable to +travel in the South and West at that time, but it was decidedly risky as +well. Highway robberies were numerous and, although I myself never +happened to suffer at the hands of any desperadoes, I have often heard +first-hand accounts from persons who had been robbed of everything they +were carrying. While I was touring in Missouri, Jesse James and his men +were operating in the same region and the celebrated highway man himself +was once in the train with me. I slipped quietly through to catch a +glimpse of him in the smoking-car. Two of his "aides" were with him and, +although they were behaving themselves peacefully enough for the time +being, I think that most of the passengers were willing to give them a +wide berth. During one concert trip of our company I saw something of a +situation which might have developed dramatically. There was a "three +card monte" gang working on the train. One of their number pretended to +be a farmer and entirely innocent, so as to lure victims into the game. +I saw this particularly tough-looking individual disappear into the +toilet room and come out made up as the farmer. It was like a play. I +also saw him finger a pistol that he was carrying in his right hip +pocket: and I experienced a somewhat blood-thirsty desire that there +might be a genuine excitement in store for us, but the alarm spread and +nobody was snared that trip. + +As there were frequently no through trains on Sundays, we had sometimes +to have special trains. I never quite understood the idea of not having +through trains on Sundays, for surely other travellers besides +unfortunate singers need occasionally to take journeys on the Sabbath. +But so it was. And once our "special" ran plump into a big strike of +locomotive engineers at Dayton, Ohio. Our engine driver was held up by +the strikers bivouacked in the railroad yards and we were stalled there +for hours. At last an engineer from the East was found who consented to +take our train through and there was much excitement while he was being +armed with a couple of revolvers and plenty of ammunition, for the +strikers had threatened to shoot down any "scab" who attempted to break +the strike. We were all ordered to get down on the floor of the car to +avoid the stones that might be thrown through the windows when we +started; and when the train began to move slowly our situation was +decidedly trying. We could hear a hail of shots being fired, as the +engine gathered speed, but our volunteer engineer knew his business and +had been authorised to drive the engine at top speed to get us out of +the trouble, so soon the noise of shooting and the general uproar were +left behind. The plucky strike-breaker was barely grazed, but I, +personally, never cared to come any closer to lawlessness than I was +then. + +There were some bright spots on these disagreeable journeys. One day as +I was coming out of a hall in Duluth where I had been rehearsing for the +concert we were giving that evening, I ran into a man I knew, an +Englishman whom I had not seen since I was in London. + +"There!" he exclaimed, "I knew it was you!" + +"Did you see the advertisement?" I asked. + +"No," he returned, "I'm just off the yacht that's lying out there in the +Lake. I'm out looking into some mining interests, you know. I heard your +voice from the boat and I knew it must be you, so I thought I'd take a +run on shore and look you up." + +But such pleasant experiences were the exception. The South in general +was in a particularly blind and dull condition just then. The people +could not conceive of any amusement that was not intended literally to +"amuse." They felt it incumbent to laugh at everything. My _cheval de +bataille_ was the Polonaise from _Mignon_, at the end of which I had +introduced some chromatic trills. It is a wonderful piece and required a +great deal of genuine technique to master. A portion of the house would +appreciate it, of course, but on one occasion a detestable young couple +thought the trills were intended to be humorous. Whenever I sang a trill +they would poke each other in the ribs and giggle and, when there was a +series of the chromatic trills, they nearly burst. The chromatics +introduced by me were never written. They went like this: + +[Illustration: Musical notation.] + +One disapproving unit in an audience can spoil a whole evening for a +singer. I recall one concert when I was obsessed by a man in the front +row. He would not even look at me. Possibly he considered that I was a +spoiled creature and he did not wish to aid and abet the spoiling, or, +perhaps, he was really bored and disgusted. At any rate, he kept his +eyes fixed on a point high over my head and not with a beatific +expression, either. He clearly did not think much of my work. Well--I +sang my whole programme to that one man. And I was a failure. Charmed I +ever so wisely, I could not really move him. But I _did_ make him +uncomfortable! He wriggled and sat sidewise and clearly was uneasy. He +must have felt that I was trying to win him over in spite of himself. I +sometimes wonder if other singers do the same with obdurate auditors? +Surely they must, for it is a sort of fetish of the profession that +there is always one person present who is by far the most difficult to +charm. In that clever play _The Concert_ the pianist tells the young +woman in love with him that he was first interested in her when he saw +her in the audience because she did not cry. He played his best in order +to moisten her eyes and, when he saw a tear roll down her cheek, he knew +that he had triumphed as an artist. Our audiences were frequently inert +and indiscriminating. One night an usher brought me a programme from +some one in the audience with a suggestion scribbled on the margin: + +"Can't you sing something devilish for a change?" + +I believe they really wanted a song and dance, or a tight-rope +exhibition. We had a baritone who sang well "The Evening Star" from +_Tannhauser_ and his performance frequently ended in a chill silence +with a bit of half-hearted clapping. He had a sense of humour and he +used to come off the stage and say: + +"That didn't go very well! Do you think I'd better do my bicycle act +next?" + +[Illustration: <p>Clara Louise Kellogg as Carmen</p> + +From a photograph] + +Times change and standards with them. The towns where they yearned for +bicycle acts and "something devilish" are to-day centres of musical +taste and cultivation. I never think of the change of standards without +being reminded of an old tale of my father's which is curious in itself, +although I cannot vouch for it nor verify it. He said that somewhere in +Germany there was a bell in a church tower which, when it was first +hung, many years before, was pitched in the key of _C_ and which was +found to ring, in the nineteenth century, according to our present +pitch, at about our _B_ flat. The musical scientists said that the +change was not in the bell but in our own standard of pitch, which had +been gradually raised by the manufacturers of pianos who pitched them +higher and higher to get a more brilliant tone. + +My throat was very sensitive in those days. I took cold easily and used, +besides, to be subject to severe nervous headaches. Yet I always managed +to sing. Indeed, I have never had much sympathy with capricious _prime +donne_ who consider themselves and their own physical feelings before +their obligation to the public that has paid to hear them. While, of +course, in fairness to herself, a singer must somewhat consider her own +interests, I do believe that she cannot be too conscientious in this +connection. In _Carmen_ one night I broke my collar bone in the fall in +the last act. I was still determined to do my part and went out, after +it had been set, and bought material to match my costumes so that the +sling the surgeon had ordered should not be noticed. And, for once +fortunately, my audiences were either not exacting or not observing, +for, apparently, no comment was ever made on the fact that I could not +use my right arm. I could not help questioning whether my gestures were +usually so wooden that an arm, more or less, was not perceptible! Our +experiences in general with physicians on the road were lamentable. As a +result my mother carried a regular medicine chest about with her and all +of my fellow-artists used to come to her when anything was the matter +with them. + +Another hardship that we all had to endure was the being on exhibition. +It is one of the penalties of fame. Special trains were most unusual, +and so were _prime donne_, and crowds used to gather on the station +platforms wherever we stopped, waiting to catch a glimpse of us as we +passed through. + +And the food! Some of our trials in regard to food--or, rather, the lack +of it--were very trying. Voices are very dependent on the digestion; +hence the need of, at least, eatable food, however simple it may be. On +one trip we really nearly starved to death for, of course, there were no +dining-cars and the train did not stop at any station long enough to +forage for a square meal. Finally, in desperation, I told one of the men +in the company that, if he would get some "crude material" at the next +stop and bring it in, I would cook it. So he succeeded in securing a +huge bundle of raw chops, a loaf of bread and some butter. There was a +big stove at one end of the car and on its coals I broiled the chops, +made tea and toast, and we all feasted. Indeed, it seemed a feast after +ten hours with nothing at all! Another time I got off our "special" to +hunt luncheon and was left behind. I raced wildly to catch the train but +could not make it. After a while the company discovered that they had +lost me on the way and backed up to get me. Speaking of food, I shall +never forget the battle royal I once had with a hotel manager on the +road in regard to my coloured maid, Eliza. She was a very nice and +entirely presentable girl and he would not let her have even a cup of +tea in the dining-room. We had had a long, hard journey, and she was +quite as tired as the rest of us. So, when I found her still waiting +after I had lunched, I made a few pertinent remarks to the effect that +her presence at the table was much to be preferred to the men who had +eaten there without table manners, uncouth, feeding themselves with +their knives. + +"And what else did we have the war for!" I finally cried. How the others +laughed at me. But Eliza was fed, and well fed, too. + +I had always to carry my own bedclothes on the Western tours. When we +first started out, I did not realise the necessity, but later, I became +wiser. Cleanliness has always been almost more than godliness to me. +Before I would use a dressing-room I nearly always had it thoroughly +swept out and sometimes cleaned and scrubbed. This all depended on the +part of the country we were in. I came to know that in certain sections +of the South-west I should have to have a regular house-cleaning done +before I would set foot in their accommodations. I missed my bath +desperately, and my piano, and all the other luxuries that have become +practical necessities to civilised persons. When I could not have a +state-room on a train, my maid would bring a cup of cold water to my +berth before I dressed that was a poor apology for a bath, but that +saved my life on many a morning after a long, stuffy night in a sleeper. + +The lesser hardships perhaps annoyed me most. Bad food, bad air, rough +travelling, were worse than the more serious ills of fatigue and +indispositions. But the worst of all was the water. One can, at a pinch, +get along with poor food or with no food at all to speak of, but bad +water is a much more serious matter. Even dirt is tolerable if it can +be washed off afterwards. But I have seen many places where the water +was less inviting than the dirt. When I first beheld Missouri water I +hardly dared wash in it, much less drink it, and was appalled when it +was served to me at the table. I gazed with horror at the brown liquid +in my tumbler, and then said faintly to the waiter: + +"Can't you get me some clear water, please?" + +"Oh, yes," said he, "it'll be clearer, ma'am, _but it won't be near so +rich_!" + +And all the time I was working, for, no matter what the hardships or +distractions that may come an artist's way, he or she must always keep +at work. Singing is something that must be worked for just as hard after +it is won as during the winning process. Liszt is supposed to have said +that when he missed practising one day he knew it; when he missed two +days his friends knew it; on the third day the public knew it. I often +rehearsed before a mirror, so that I could know whether I looked right +as well as sounded right; and, _apropos_ of this, I have been much +impressed by the fact that ways of rehearsing are very different and +characteristic. Ellen Terry once told me that, when she had a new part +to study, she generally got into a closed carriage, with the window +open, and was driven about for two or three hours, working on her lines. + +"It is the only way I can keep my repose," she said. "I only wish I had +some of Henry's repose when studying a part!" + +[Illustration: =Sir Henry Irving and Ellen Terry as the Vicar and Olivia= + +From a photograph by Window & Grove] + + + + +CHAPTER XXII + +LONDON AGAIN + + +After nearly three years of concert and oratorio and racketing about +America on tours, it was a joy to go to England again for another +season. The Peace Jubilee Association asked me to sing at their +celebration in Boston that spring, but I went to London instead. The +offer from the Association was a great compliment, however, and +especially the wording of the resolution as communicated to me by the +secretary. + +"Unanimously voted:--That Miss Clara Louise Kellogg, the leading _prima +donna_ of America, receive the special invitation of the Executive +Committee, etc." + +The spring season in London was well along when we arrived there and, +before I had been in the city a day, I began to feel at home again. +Newcastle and Dr. Quinn called almost immediately and Alfred Rothschild +sent me flowers, all of which made me realize that this was really +England once more and that I was among old and dear friends. + +I was again to sing under Mapleson's management. The new opera house, +built on the site of Her Majesty's that had burned, was highly +satisfactory; and he had nearly all of his old singers again--Titjiens, +Nilsson, and myself among others. Patti and Lucca were still our rivals +at Covent Garden; also Faure and Cotogni; and there was a pretty, young, +new singer from Canada with them, Mme. Albani, who had a light, sweet +voice and was attractive in appearance. Our two innovations at Her +Majesty's were Marie Roze from the Paris Opera Comique--later destined +to be associated with me professionally and with Mapleson +personally--and Italo Campanini. Campanini was the son of a blacksmith +in Italy and had worked at the forge himself for many years before going +on the stage, and was the hero of the hour, for not only was his voice a +very lovely one, but he was also a fine actor. It was worth while to see +his Don José. People forgot that Carmen herself was in the opera. Our +other tenor was Capoul, the Frenchman, Trebelli-Bettini was our leading +contralto and my friend Foli--"the Irish Italian from Connecticut"--was +still with us. + +Campanini, the idol of the town, was, like most tenors, enormously +pleased with himself. To be sure, he had some reason, with his heavenly +voice, his dramatic gift, and his artistic instinct; but one would like +some day to meet a man gifted with a divine vocal organ and a simple +spirit both, at the same time. It appears to be an impossible +combination. When Mapleson told Campanini that he was to sing with me in +_Lucia_ he frowned and considered the point. + +"An American," he muttered doubtfully. "I have never heard her--do I +know that she can sing? I--Campanini--cannot sing with a _prima donna_ +of whom I know nothing! Who is this Miss Kellogg anyway?" + +"You're quite right," said the Colonel with the most cordial air of +assent. "You'd better hear her before you decide. She's singing Linda +to-night. Go into the stalls and listen to her for a few moments. If you +don't want to sing with her, you don't have to." + +That evening Campanini was on hand, ready to controvert the very idea of +an American _prima donna_ daring to sing with him. After the first act +he came out into the foyer and ran into the Colonel. + +"Well," remarked that gentleman casually, winking at Jarrett, "can she +sing?" + +"Sing?" said Campanini solemnly, "she has the voice of a flute. It is +the absolutely perfect tone. It is a--miracle!" + +So, after all, Campanini and I sang together that season in _Lucia_ and +in other operas. While Campanini was a great artist, he was a very petty +man in many ways. A little incident when Capoul was singing _Faust_ one +night is illustrative. Capoul, much admired and especially in America, +was intensely nervous and emotional with a quick temper. Between him and +Italo Campanini a certain rivalry had been developing for some time, +and, whatever may be asserted to the contrary, male singers are much +bitterer rivals than women ever are. On the night I speak of, Campanini +came into his box during the _Salve dimora_ and set down to listen. As +Capoul sang, the Italian's face became lined with a frown of annoyance +and, after a moment or two, he began to drum on the rail before him as +if he could not conceal his exasperation and _ennui_. The longer Capoul +sang, the louder and more irritated the tapping became until most of the +audience was unkind enough to laugh just a little. Poor Capoul tried, in +vain, to sing down that insistent drumming, and, when the act was over, +he came behind the scenes and actually cried with rage. + +On what might be called my second _début_ in London, I had an ovation +almost as warm as my welcome home to my native land had been three years +before. I had forgotten how truly the English people were my friends +until I heard the applause which greeted me as I walked onto the stage +that night in _Linda di Chamouix_. Sir Michael Costa, who was conducting +that year, was always an irascible and inflexible autocrat when it came +to operatic rules and ideals. One of the points of observance upon which +he absolutely insisted was that the opera must never be interrupted for +applause. Theoretically this was perfectly correct; but nearly all good +rules are made to be broken once in a while and it was quite obvious +that the audience intended this occasion to be one of the times. Sir +Michael went on leading his orchestra and the people in front went on +clapping until the whole place became a pandemonium. The house at last, +and while still applauding, began to hiss the orchestra so that, after a +minute of a tug-of-war effect, Sir Michael was obliged to lay down his +baton--although with a very bad grace--and let the applause storm itself +out. I could see him scowling at me as I bowed and smiled and bowed +again, nearly crying outright at the friendliness of my welcome. There +were traitors in his own camp, too, for, as soon as the baton was +lowered, half the orchestra--old friends mostly--joined in the applause! +Sir Michael never before had broken through his rule; and I do not fancy +he liked me any the better for being the person to force upon him this +one exception. + +I include here a letter written to someone in America just after this +performance by Bennett of _The London Telegraph_ that pleased me +extremely, both for its general appreciative friendliness and because it +was a _résumé_ of the English press and public regarding my former and +my present appearance in England. + + Miss Kellogg has not been forgotten during the years which + intervened, and not a few _habitués_ cherished a hope that she + would be led across the Atlantic once more. She was, however, + hardly expected to measure herself against the _crème-de-la-crème_ + of the world's _prime donne_ with no preliminary beat of drum and + blowing of trumpet, trusting solely to her own gifts and to the + fairness of an English public. This she did, however, and all the + English love of "pluck" was stirred to sympathy. We felt that here + was a case of the real Anglo-Saxon determination, and Miss Kellogg + was received in a manner which left nothing of encouragement to be + desired. Defeat under such circumstances would have been + honourable, but Miss Kellogg was not defeated. So far from this, + she at once took a distinguished place in our galaxy of "stars"; + rose more and more into favour with each representation, and ended, + as Susannah in _Le Nozze di Figaro_ by carrying off the honours + from the Countess of Mlle. Titjiens and the Cherubino of Mlle. + Nilsson. A greater achievement than this last Miss Kellogg's + ambition could not desire. It was "a feather in her cap" which she + will proudly wear back to her native land as a trophy of no + ordinary conflict and success. You may be curious to know the exact + grounds upon which we thus honour your talented countrywoman, and + in stating them I shall do better than were I to criticise + performances necessarily familiar. In the first place, we recognise + in Miss Kellogg an artist, and not a mere singer. People of the + latter class are plentiful enough, and are easily to be + distinguished by the way in which they "reel" off their task--a way + brilliant, perhaps, but exciting nothing more than the admiration + due to efficient mechanism. The artist, on the other hand, shows in + a score of forms that he is more than a machine and that something + of human feeling may be made to combine with technical correctness. + Herein lies the great charm often, perhaps, unconsciously + acknowledged, of Miss Kellogg's efforts. We know at once, listening + to her, that she sings from the depth of a keenly sensitive + artistic nature, and never did anybody do this without calling out + a sympathetic response. It is not less evident that Miss Kellogg + is a consummate musician--that "rare bird" on the operatic boards. + Hence, her unvarying correctness; her lively appreciation of the + composer in his happiest moments, and the manner in which she + adapts her individual efforts to the production of his intended + effects. Lastly, without dwelling upon the charm of a voice and + style perfectly well known to you and ungrudgingly recognised here, + we see in Miss Kellogg a dramatic artist who can form her own + notion of a part and work it out after a distinctive fashion. + Anyone able to do this comes with refreshing effect at a time when + the lyric stage is covered with pale copies of traditionary + excellence. It was refreshing, for example, to witness Miss + Kellogg's Susannah, an embodiment full of realism without + coarseness and _esprit_ without exaggeration. Susannahs, as a rule, + try to be ladylike and interesting. Miss Kellogg's waiting-maid was + just what Beaumarchais intended, and the audience recognised the + truthful picture only to applaud it. For all these reasons, and for + more which I have no space to name, we do honour to the American + _prima donna_, so that whenever you can spare her on your side we + shall be happy to welcome her on ours. + +It was during this season in London that Max Maretzek and Max Strakosch +decided to go into opera management together in America; and Maretzek +came over to London to get the company together. Pauline Lucca and I +were to be the _prime donne_ and one of our novelties was to be Gounod's +new opera _Mireille_, founded on the poem by the Provençal poet, +Mistral. I say "new opera" because it was still unknown in America; +possibly because it had been a failure in London where it had already +been produced. "The Magnificent" thought it would be sure to do well in +"the States" on account of the wild Gounod vogue that had been started +by _Faust_ and _Romeo and Juliette_. + +[Illustration: First edition of the _Faust_ score, published in 1859 by +Chousens of Paris, now in the Boston Public Library] + +I was to sing it; and Colonel Mapleson sent Mr. Jarrett with me to call +on Gounod, who was then living in London, to get what points I could +from the master himself. + +Everybody who knows anything about Gounod knows also about Mrs. Welldon. +Georgina Welldon, the wife of an English officer, was an exceedingly +eccentric character to say the least. Even the most straight-laced +biographers refer to the "romantic friendship" between the composer and +this lady--which, after all, is as good a way as any of tagging it. She +ran a sort of school for choristers in London and had, I believe, some +idea of training the poor boys of the city to sing in choirs. Her house +was usually full of more or less musical youngsters. She was, also, +something of a musical publisher and the organiser of a woman's musical +association, whether for orchestral or choral music I am not quite +certain. From this it will be seen that she was, at heart, a New Woman, +although her activities were in a period that was still old-fashioned. +If she were in her prime to-day, she would undoubtedly be a militant +suffragette. She was also noted for the lawsuits in which she figured; +one particular case dragging along into an unconscionable length of time +and being much commented upon in the newspapers. + +Gounod and she lived in Tavistock Place, in the house where Dickens +lived so long and that is always associated with his name. On the +occasion of our call, Mr. Jarrett and I were ushered into a study, much +littered and crowded, to wait for the great man. It proved to be a +somewhat long drawn-out wait, for the household seemed to be in a state +of subdued turmoil. We could hear voices in the hall; some one was +asking about a music manuscript for the publishers. Suddenly, a woman +flew into the room where we were sitting. She was unattractive and +unkempt; she wore a rumpled and soiled kimono; her hair was much +tousled; her bare feet were thrust into shabby bedroom slippers; and she +did not look in the least as if she had had her bath. Indeed, I am +expressing her appearance mildly and politely! She made a dive for the +master's writing-table, gathered up some papers--sorting and selecting +with lightning speed and an air of authority--and then darted out of the +room as rapidly as she had entered. It was, of course, Mrs. Welldon, of +whom I had heard so much and whom I had pictured as a fascinating woman. +This is the nearest I ever came to meeting this person who was so +conspicuous a figure of her day, although I have seen her a few other +times. When dressed for the street she was most ordinary looking. Gounod +was in the house, it developed, all the time that we waited, although he +could not attend to us immediately. He was living like a recluse so far +as active professional or social life was concerned, but he was a very +busy man and beset with all manner of duties. When he at last came to +us, he greeted us with characteristic French courtesy. His manners were +exceedingly courtly. He was grey-haired, charming, and very quiet. I +think he was really shy. With apologies, he opened his letters, and, +while giving orders and hearing messages, a pretty incident occurred. A +young girl, very graceful and sweet looking, came into the room. She +hurried forward with a little, impulsive movement and, curtseying deeply +to Gounod, seized one of his hands in both of hers and raised it to her +lips. + +"_Cher maître!_" she murmured adoringly, and flitted away, the master +following her with a smiling glance. It was Nita Giatano, an American, +afterwards Mrs. Moncrieff, now the widow of an English officer, who was +studying with Gounod and living there and who, later, became fairly well +known as a singer. Then Gounod proceeded to say pleasant things about my +_Marguerite_ and was interested in hearing that I was planning to do +_Mireille_. We then and there went over the music together and he gave +me an annotated score of _Mireille_ with his autograph and marginal +directions. I treasured it for years afterwards; and a most tragic fate +overtook it at last. I sent it to a book-binder to be bound, and, when +the score came back, did not immediately look through it. It was some +time later, indeed, that I opened it to show it off to someone to whom I +had been speaking of the precious notes and autograph. I turned page +after page--there were no notes. I looked at the title page--there was +no signature. That wretched book-binder had not scrupled to substitute a +new and valueless score for my beloved copy, and had doubtless sold the +original, with Gounod's autograph and annotations, to some collector for +a pretty sum. When I tried to hunt the man up, I found that he had gone +out of business and moved away. He was not to be found and I have never +been able to regain my score. + +_Mireille_ was not given for several years, as affairs turned out, and I +rather congratulated myself that this was so, for it was not one of +Gounod's best productions. I once met Mme. Gounod in Paris, or, rather, +in its environs, at a garden party given at the Menier--the Chocolat +Menier--place. She was a well-mannered, commonplace Frenchwoman, rather +colourless and uninteresting. I came to understand that even Georgina +Welldon, with her untidy kimono and her lawsuits, might have been more +entertaining. I asked Gounod, on this occasion, to play some of the +music of _Romeo and Juliette_. He did so and, at the end, said: + +"I see you like my children!" + +Gounod was chiefly famous in London for the delightful recitals he gave +from time to time of his own music. He had no voice, but he could render +programmes of his own songs with great success. Everybody was +enthusiastic over the beautiful and intricate accompaniments that were +such a novelty. He was so splendid a musician that he could create a +more charming effect without a voice than another man could have +achieved with the notes of an angel. Poor Gounod, like nearly all +creative genuises, had a great many bitter struggles before he obtained +recognition. Count Fabri has told me that, while _Faust_ (the opera +which he sold for twelve hundred dollars) was running to packed houses +and the whole world was applauding it, Gounod himself was really in +need. His music publisher met him in the streets of Paris, wearing a +wretched old hat and looking very seedy. + +"Why on earth," cried the publisher, "don't you get a new hat?" + +"I did not make enough on _Faust_ to pay for one," was the bitter +answer. + + + + +CHAPTER XXIII + +THE SEASON WITH LUCCA + + +After the London season and before returning to America we went to +Switzerland for a brief holiday. During this little trip there occurred +a pleasing and somewhat quaint incident. On the Grünewald Glacier we met +a young Italian-Swiss mountaineer who earned his living by making echoes +from the crags with a big horn and by the national art of yodeling. +There was one particular echo which was the pride of the region and, the +day we were exploring the glacier, he did not call it forth as well as +usual. Although he tried several times, we could distinguish very little +echo. Finally, acting on a sudden impulse, I stood up in our carriage +and yodeled for him, ending with a long trill. The high, pure air +exhilarated me and made me feel that I could do absolutely anything in +the world with my voice, and I actually struck one or two of the highest +and strongest notes that I ever sang in my life and one of the best +trills. The echoes came rippling back to us with wonderful effect. + +The young mountaineer took off his Tyrolean hat and bowed to me deeply. + +"Ah, mademoiselle!" he said, "if I could call into being such an echo, +my fortune here would be made!" + +Our stay there was all too short to please me and the day soon came for +us to start for home. We crossed on the _Cuba_ of the Cunard Line, and +a very poor steamer she was. It was not in the least an interesting +trip. There was no social intercourse, because all the passengers were +too seasick to talk or even to listen. It seemed to them like a personal +affront for anyone not to succumb to _mal de mer_. + +"You mean thing," one woman said to me, "why aren't you seasick!" + +Our passenger list was, however, a somewhat striking one. Rubenstein and +Wieniawski were on board and Clara Doria; Mark Smith, the actor; Edmund +Yeats and Maddox, the editor whom I had known in London, and, of course, +Pauline Lucca. She was registered as the Baroness von Raden and had her +baby with her--the one generally believed to have a royal father--and, +with her baby and her seasickness, was very much occupied. Her father +and mother accompanied her. Lucca, as we know, had been a ballerina. Her +toes were all twisted and deformed by her early years of dancing. She +once showed them to me, a pitiful record of the triumphs of a ballet +dancer. There was something of the ballerina in her temperament, also, +which she never entirely outgrew. Certainly she was far from being a +_prima donna_ type. An irresistible sense of fun made her a most amusing +companion; and her charm lay largely in her unexpectedness. One never +could guess what she was going to do or say next. I recall an incident +that occurred a little later in Chicago that illustrates this. A very +handsome music critic--I will not mention his name--came behind the +scenes one night to see us. He was a grave young man, with a brown beard +and beautiful eyes, and his appearance gave a vague sense of familiarity +as if we had seen it in some well-known picture. Yet I could not place +the resemblance. Lucca stood off at a little distance studying him +owlishly for a minute or two as he was chatting to me in the wings. +Presently she whisked up to him with her brown eyes dancing and, looking +up at him in the drollest way, said laughingly: + +"And how do you do, my Jesus Christ!" + +On this voyage home I saw more or less of Edmund Yeats who kept us +amused with a steady flow of witty talk and who kept up an equally +steady flow of brandy and soda, and of Maddox who was not seasick and +was willing to both walk and talk. Maddox was an interesting man, with +many strange stories to tell of things and people famous and well-known. +Among other personalities we discussed Adelaide Neilson, whose real +name, by the way, was Mary Ann Rogers. I was speaking of her refinement +and pretty manners on the stage, her gracious and yet unassuming fashion +of accepting applause, and her general air of good breeding, when Maddox +told me, to my great astonishment, that this was more remarkable than I +could possibly imagine since the charming actress had come from the most +disadvantageous beginnings. She had, in fact, led a life that is +generally characterised as "unfortunate" and it was while she was in +this life that Maddox first met her, and, finding the girl full of +ambition and aspirations toward something higher, had put her in the way +of cultivating herself and her talents. These facts as told me by Maddox +have always remained in my mind, not in the least to Neilson's +discredit, but quite the reverse, for they only make her charming and +artistic achievements all the more admirable. I have always enjoyed +watching her. She was always just diffident enough without being +self-conscious. It used to be pretty to see her from a box where I could +look at her behind the scenes compose herself before taking a curtain +call. She would slip into the mood of the part that she had just been +playing and that she wished still to suggest to the audience. Which +reminds me that Henry Irving once told me that he and Miss Terry did +exactly this same thing. "We always try to keep within the picture even +after the act is over," he said. "An actor should never take his call in +his own character, but always in that which he has been personating." + +On the whole the particular trip of which I am now speaking stands out +dominantly in my memory because of Rubenstein. I never, never saw anyone +so seasick, nor anyone so completely depressed by the fact. Poor +creature! He swore, faintly, that he would never cross the ocean again +even to get home! Occasionally he would talk feebly, but his spirit was +completely broken. I have not the faintest idea what Rubenstein was like +when he was not seasick. He may have sparkled consummately in a normal +condition; but he did not sparkle on the _Cuba_. + +The Lucca-Kellogg season which followed was not a comfortable one, but +it netted us large receipts. The work was arduous, the operas heavy, and +the management was up to its ears in contentions and jealousies. New +York was in a musical fever during the early seventies. We were just +finding out how to be musical and it was a great and pleasurable +excitement. We were pioneers, and enjoyed it, and were happy in not +being hide-bound by traditions as were the older countries, because we +had none. One of the season's sensations was Senorita Sanz, a Spanish +contralto, whose voice was not unlike that of Adelaide Phillips. She was +a beautiful woman and a good actress, and, above all, she had the true +Spanish temperament, languid, exotic and yet fiery. Her Azucena was a +fine performance; and she created a tremendous _furore_ with La Paloma, +which was then a novelty. She used to sing it at Sunday night concerts +and set the audiences wild with: + +[Illustration: Musical notation; Cuan-do...... sa-lí de lo Ha-ba-na +Vál-ga-me Dios!] + +Lucca's operas for the season were _Faust_, _Traviata_, _L'Africaine_, +_Fra Diavolo_ and _La Figlia del Regimento_. Mine were _Trovatore_, +_Traviata_, _Crispano_, _Linda_ and _Martha_, and _Don Giovanni_. It was +to Lucca's _Zerlina_ that I first sang Donna Anna in _Don Giovanni_; +and, as in the big concert at the Coliseum my friends had felt some +doubts as to the carrying power of my voice, so now many persons +expected the _rôle_ to be too heavy for me. But I believe I succeeded in +proving the contrary. When we did _Le Nozze di Figaro_, Lucca was the +Cherubino, making the quaintest looking of boys and much resembling one +of Raphael's cherubs in his painting of the _Sistine Madonna_. + +Personally, the relations between Lucca and myself were always amicable +enough; but we had certain professional frictions, brought about, +indeed, by Jarrett who, although he was nothing but an agent and an +indifferent one at that, was generally regarded as an authority, and +gave out critiques to the newspapers. It so happened that, without my +knowledge, the monopoly of singing in _Faust_ was in her contract and I +was so prevented from singing Marguerite once during our entire +engagement. As Marguerite was my _rôle_ pre-eminently, by right of +conquest, in America, I felt very hurt and angry about the matter and, +at first, wanted to resign from the company, but, of course, was talked +out of that attitude. Jarrett would not, however, consent to my even +alternating with Lucca in the part; but possibly he was wise in this as +Marguerite was never one of her best personations. She played a very +impulsive and un-German Gretchen, in spite of herself, being an Austrian +by birth. One of the newspapers said that "she fell in love with Faust +at first sight and the Devil was a useless article!" Her +characterisation of the part was somewhat devilish in itself; her work +was striking, effective, and _piquant_, but not touched by much +distinction. The difference between our presentations was said to be +that I "convinced by a refined perfection of detail" and Lucca by more +vivid qualities. Indeed, our voices and methods were so dissimilar that +we never felt any personal rivalry, whatever the critics said to the +contrary. As one man justly expressed it: "Neither Lucca nor Kellogg has +the talent for quarrelling." There were, of course, rival factions in +our public. A man one night sent a note behind the scenes to me +containing this message: "Poor Kellogg! you have no chance at all with +Lucca!" Two days later Mme. Lucca came to me laughing and said that some +one had asked her: "How do you dare to sing on the same bill with Miss +Kellogg, the American favourite?" + +[Illustration: =Newspaper Print of the Kellogg-Lucca Season= + +Drawn by Jos. Keppler] + +So interesting did our supposed rivalry become, however, as to excite +considerable newspaper comment. In reply to one of these in _The Chicago +Tribune_ a contributor answered: + + _To the Editor of The Chicago Tribune_: + + SIR: In your issue of this morning, there is an editorial headed + "Operatic Failure," which is, in some respects, so unjust and + one-sided as to call for an immediate protest against its + injustice. Having taken your ideas from _The New York Herald_, and + having no other source of information, it is not to be wondered at + that you should fall into error. For reasons best known to Mr. + James Gordon Bennett, _The New York Herald_, since the commencement + of the Jarrett-Maretzek season, has undertaken to write up Madame + Lucca at the expense of every other artist connected with the + troupe; and it is because of _The Herald's_ fulsome laudations of + Lucca, and its outrageously untruthful criticisms of Kellogg, that + much of the trouble has occurred. Of the two ladies, Kellogg is by + far the superior singer. Lucca has much dramatic force, but, in + musical culture, is not equal to her sister artist, and there is no + jealousy on the part of either lady of the other. The facts are + these: The management, taking their cue from _The Herald_, and + being afraid of the power of Mr. Bennett, tried to shelve Kellogg, + and the result has been that the dear public would not permit the + injustice, and they, the managers, as well as _The Herald_, are + amazed and angered at the result of their dirty work. + + OPERA. + + Chicago, Oct. 28, 1872. + +Lucca and I gave _Mignon_ that season together, she playing the part of +Mignon and I that of Felina, the cat. Mignon was always a favourite part +of my own, a sympathetic _rôle_ filled with poetry and sentiment. When I +first studied it, I most carefully read _Wilhelm Meister_, upon which it +is founded. Regarding the part of Felina, I have often wondered that +people have never been more perceptive than they appear to have been of +the analogy between her name and her qualities, for she has all of the +characteristics of the feline species. Our dual star bill in the opera +was highly successful and effective in spite of Jarrett's continual +attacks upon me through the press and in every way open to him. He did +me a particularly cruel turn about Felina. I started off in the _rôle_, +the opening night, in what I still believe to have been the correct +interpretation. _Wilhelm Meister_ was set in a finicky period and its +characters wore white wigs and minced about in their actions. My part +was all comedy and the gestures should have been little and dainty and +somewhat constrained. So I played it, until I saw this criticism, +written by one of Jarrett's creatures, "Miss Kellogg has no freedom of +movement in the _rôle_ of Felina, etc." + +My mother, always anxious for me to profit by criticism that might have +value, said that perhaps the man was right. At any rate, between the +two, I became so self-conscious that the next time I sang Felina I could +not get into the mood of it at all. Not to seem restricted in gesture, I +waved my arms as if I were in _Norma_; and the performance was a very +poor one in consequence. Yet, in spite of Jarrett's machinations, it was +said of me in the press of the day: + +" ...Her rendering of Felina was a magnificent success. From the first +scene on the balcony until her light-hearted laughter dies away, she is +a vision of beauty and grace, appealing to every high aesthetic emotion +and charming all hearts with her sweetness." + +[Illustration: =Clara Louise Kellogg in _Mignon_= + +From a photograph by Mora] + +Furthermore, an eminent Shakespearean critic, writing then, said: + + As an actress, Miss Kellogg's superiority cannot justly be + questioned. Some things are exquisitely represented by the fair + Swede, Miss Nilsson, such as the dazed look, the stupefaction + caused by a great shock, like that of the death of Valentin, for + instance; such as the madness to which the distracting conflict of + many selfish feelings and passions leads. But she is always + circumscribed by her own consciousness. Her soul never passes + beyond that limit--never surrounds her--filling the stage and + infecting the audience with a magnetic atmosphere which is a part + of herself, or herself transfused, if such expressions be + allowable. In this respect Miss Kellogg is very different and + greatly superior. Her sympathies are large. She conceives well the + effects of the warmer and more generous passions upon the person + who feels them. She can, by the force of her imagination, abandon + herself to these influences, and, by her artistic skill, give them + apt expression. She can cease to be self-conscious, and feel but + the fictitious consciousness of the personage whom she represents, + while the force of her own illusion magnetises her auditors till + they respond like well-tuned harps to every chord of feeling which + she strikes. + +Such notices, such critiques, were compensations! Taken as a whole, +Felina was a successful part for me; largely on account of that piece of +glittering generalities, the Polonaise. In this, according to one +critic, "she aroused the admiration of her auditors to a condition that +was really a tempestuous _furore_." So, as I say, there were +compensations for Jarrett's unkindnesses. + + + + +CHAPTER XXIV + +ENGLISH OPERA + + +The idea of giving opera in English has always interested me. I never +could understand why there were any more reasons against giving an +English version of _Carmen_ in New York than against giving a French +version of _Die Freischütz_ in Paris or a German version of _La Belle +Hélène_ in Berlin. To be sure, it goes without saying, from a purist +point of view it is a patent truth, that no libretto is ever so fine +after it has been translated. Not only does the quality and spirit of +the original evaporate in the process of translating, but, also, the +syllables come wrong. Who has not suffered from the translations of +foreign songs into which the translator has been obliged to introduce +secondary notes to fit the extra syllables of the clumsily adapted +English words? These are absolute objections to the performance of any +operas or songs in a language other than the one to which the composer +first set his music. Wagner in French is a joke; so is Goethe in +Italian. A musician of my acquaintance once spoke of Strauss's _Salome_ +as a case in point, although it is a queerly inverse one. "Oscar Wilde's +French poem or play--whichever you like to call it--" he said, "was +translated into German; and it was this translation, or so it is +generally understood, that Strauss set to music. When the opera--a +French opera in spirit, taken from French text that was most Frenchly +treated--was given with Oscar Wilde's original French words, the music +often seemed to go haltingly, as though it had been adopted to phrases +for which it had not been composed." Several notable singers have +recently entered a protest against giving opera in English. Miss +Garden--admirable and spontaneous artist though she be--once wrote an +article in which she cited _Madame Butterfly_ as an example of the +inartistic effects of English librettos. I do not recall her exact +words, but they referred to the scene in which Dick Pinkerton offers +Sharpless a whiskey and soda. Miss Garden said, If I remember correctly, +that the very words "whiskey and soda" were inartistic and spoiled the +poetry and picturesqueness of the act. Personally, I do not see that it +was the words that were inartistic, but, rather, the introduction of +whiskey and soda at all into a grand opera. My point is that such +objections obtain not more stringently against English translations than +against German, French, or Italian translations. Furthermore, after all +is said that can be said against translations into whatsoever language, +the fact remains that countries and races are not nearly so different as +they pretend to be; and a human sentiment, a dramatic situation, or a +lovely melody will permeate the consciousness of a Frenchman, an +Englishman, or a German in approximately the same manner and in the same +length of time. Adaptations and translations are merely different means, +poorer or better as the case may be, of facilitating such assimilations; +and, so soon as the idea reaches the audience, the audience is going to +receive it joyfully, no matter what nation it comes from or through what +medium:--that is, if it is a good idea to begin with. + +Possibly this may be a little beside the point; but, at least, it serves +to introduce the subject of English opera--or, rather, foreign grand +opera given in English--the giving of which was an undertaking on which +I embarked in 1873. I became my own manager and, with C. D. Hess, +organised an English Opera Company that, by its success, brought the +best music to the comprehension of the intelligent masses. I believe +that the enterprise did much for the advancement of musical art in this +country; and it, besides, gave employment to a large number of young +Americans, several of whom began their careers in the chorus of the +company and soon advanced to higher places in the musical world. Joseph +Maas was one of the singers whom this company did much for; and George +Conly was another. The former at first played small parts, but his +chance came to him as Lorenzo in _Fra Diavolo_, when he made a big hit, +and, eventually, he returned to England and became her greatest oratorio +tenor. I myself made the versions of the standard operas used by us +during the first season of English opera, translating them newly and +directly from the Italian and the French and, in some instances, +restoring the text to a better condition than is found in English opera +generally. My enterprise met with a great deal of criticism and +discussion. Usually, public opinion and the opinion of the press were +favourable. One of my staunch supporters was Will Davis, the husband of +Jessie Bartlett Davis. In _The Chicago Tribune_ he wrote: + + Unless the public can understand what is sung in opera or oratorio + recital, song or ballad, no more than a passing interest can be + awakened in the music-loving public. I do not agree with those who + claim that language or thought is a secondary consideration to the + enjoyment of vocal music. I believe that a superior writer of + lyrics can fit words to the music of foreign operas that will not + only be sensible but singable. I agree with _The Tribune_ that + opera in the English language has never had a fair show, but I + claim that the reason for this is because of the bad translations + that have been given to the artists to sing. + +After our success had become assured, one of the press notices read: + + Never, in this country, has English opera been so creditably + produced and so energetically managed as by the present + Kellogg-Hess combination. All the business details being supervised + by Mr. Hess, one of the longest-headed and hardest-working men of + business to be found in even this age and nation, are thoroughly, + systematically and promptly attended to; while all the artistic + details, being under the direct personal care of Miss Clara Louise + Kellogg, confessedly the best as well as the most popular singer + America has produced, are brought to and preserved at the highest + attainable musical standard. The performers embraced in the + Hess-Kellogg English Opera Company comprise several artists of the + first rank. The names of Castle, Maas, Peakes, Mrs. Seguin, Mrs. + Van Zandt, and Miss Montague are familiar as household words to the + musical world, while the _répertoire_ embraces not only all the old + established favourites of the public, but many of the most recent + or _recherche_ novelties, such as _Mignon_, and _The Star of the + North_, in addition to such genuine English operas as _The Rose of + Castille_. + +During the three seasons of our English Opera Company, we put on a great +number of operas of all schools, from _The Bohemian Girl_ to _The Flying +Dutchman_. The former is pretty poor stuff--cheap and insipid--I never +liked to sing it. But--the houses it drew! People loved it. I believe +there would be a large and sentimental public ready for it to-day. Its +extraneous matter, the two or three popular ballads that had been +introduced, formed a part of its attraction, perhaps. Our Devil's Hoof +in _The Bohemian Girl_ was Ted Seguin who became quite famous in the +part. His wife Zelda Seguin was our contralto and they were among the +earliest people to travel with _The Beggar's Opera_ and other primitive +performances. George A. Conly was our basso and a fine one. He was a +printer by trade and he had his first chance with us at the Globe +Theatre in Boston. He was our Deland, too, in _The Flying Dutchman_. +Eventually, he was drowned; and I gave a benefit for his widow. Maurice +Grau and Hess had gone to London to engage singers for my English Opera +Company and had selected, among others, Wilfred Morgan for first tenor +and Joseph Maas for second tenor. Morgan had been singing secondary +_rôles_ for some time at Covent Garden. On our opening night of _Faust_ +he gave out with a sore throat, and Maas took his place successfully. +William Carlton once told me that when he was just starting out he +bought the theatrical wardrobe of Alberto Lawrence, a baritone, and was +looking at himself in a mirror, dressed in one of his second costumes, +in the green room of the Academy of Music early during our English +season, when Morgan came up to him and said: + +"Are you going on in those old rags?" + +Carlton had to go on in them. The critics next day gave him a couple of +columns of praise; but Morgan, whose wardrobe was gorgeous, was a +complete failure in his _début_. Our manager had finally to tell him +that he could be second tenor or resign. In six weeks he was drawing +seventy dollars less salary than Carlton, who was a baritone and a +beginner. Carlton said that about this time Wilfred Morgan came up to +him exclaiming, + +"Well, Bill, I wish I had your voice and you had my clothes!" + +William Carlton was a young Englishman, only twenty-three when he joined +us; but he was already married and had two children. When we were +rehearsing _The Bohemian Girl_, in the scene where the stolen daughter +is recognised and Carlton had to take me in his arms, he said: + +"I ought to kiss you here." + +"Not lower than _this_!" said I, pointing to my forehead. He was much +amused. Indeed, he was always laughing at my mother and me for our +prudish ways; and my not marrying was always a joke between us. + +"It's a sin," he declared once, when we were talking on a train, "a +woman who would make such a perfect wife!" + +"Louise," interrupted my mother sternly, "don't talk so much! You'll +tire your voice!" + +My good mother! She was always ruffling up like an indignant hen about +me. In one scene of another opera, I remember, the villain and I had +been playing rather more strenuously than usual and he caught my arm +with some force. I staggered a little as I came off the stage and my +mother flew at him. + +"Don't you dare touch my daughter so roughly," she cried, much annoyed. + +Mr. Carlton has paid me a nice tribute when writing of those days and of +me at that time. He has said: + + I have the most grateful memory of the sympathetic assistance I + received from the gifted _prima donna_ when I arrived in this + country under the management of Maurice Grau and C. D. Hess, who + were conducting the business details of the Kellogg Grand Opera + Company. Like many Englishmen, I was quite unprepared for the + evidences of perfection which characterised the production of opera + in the United States and, as I had not yet attained my + twenty-fourth year, I was somewhat awed by the importance of the + _rôles_ and the position I was imported to fulfil. It was in a + great measure due to the gracious help I received from Miss Kellogg + that, at my _début_ at the Academy of Music, Philadelphia, as + Valentine in _Faust_ to her Marguerite, I achieved a success which + led up to my renewing the engagement for four consecutive years. + +In putting on grand opera in English I had, in each case, the tradition +of two countries to contend with; but I endeavoured to secure some +uniformity of style and usually rehearsed them all myself, sitting at +the piano. The singers were, of course, hide-bound to the awful +translations that were institutional and to them inevitable. None of +them would have ever considered changing a word, even for the better. +The translation of _Mignon_ was probably the most completely +revolutionary of the many translations and adaptations I indulged in. I +shall never forget one fearfully clumsy passage in _Trovatore_. + + "To the handle, + To the handle, + To the handle + Strike the dagger!" + +There were two modifications possible, either of which was vastly +preferable, and without actually changing a word. + + "Strike the dagger, + Strike the dagger, + Strike the dagger + To the handle!" + +or, which I think was the better way, + + "Strike the dagger + To the handle, + Strike the dagger + To the handle!" + +a simple and legitimate repetition of a phrase. This is a case in +illustration of the meaningless absurdity and unintelligibility of the +average libretto. + +Those were the days in which I devoutly appreciated my general sound +musical training. The old stand-bys, _Fra Diavolo_, _Trovatore_, and +_Martha_ were all very well. Most singers had been reared on them from +their artistic infancy. But, for example, _The Marriage of Figaro_ was +an innovation. To it I had to bring my best experience and judgment as +cultivated in our London productions; and we finally gave a very +creditable English performance of it. Then there were, besides, the new +operas that had to be incepted and created and toiled over:--_The +Talisman_ and _Lily o'Killarney_ among others. _The Talisman_ by Balfe, +an opera of the Meyerbeerian school, was first produced at the Drury +Lane in London, with Nilsson, Campanini, Marie Roze, Rota, and others. +Our presentation of it was less pretentious, naturally, but we had an +excellent cast, with Joseph Maas as Sir Kenneth, William Carlton as +Coeur de Lion, Mme. Loveday as Queen Berengaria, and Charles Turner as +De Vaux. I was Edith Plantaganet. When the opera was first put on in +London, under the direction of Sir Jules Benedict, it was called _The +Knight of the Leopard_. Later, it was translated into Italian under the +title of _Il Talismano_, and from that finally re-translated by us and +given the name of Sir Walter Scott's work on which it was based. It was +not only Balfe's one real grand opera, but was also his last important +work. _Lily o'Killarney_, by Sir Jules Benedict, was not a striking +novelty. It had a graceful duet for the basso and tenor, and one pretty +solo for the _prima donna_--"I'm Alone"--but, otherwise, it did not +amount to much. But we scored in it because of our good artistry. Our +company was a good one. Parepa Rosa did tremendous things with her +English opera _tournées_; but I honestly think our work was more +artistic as well as more painstaking. There were not many of us; but we +did our best and pulled together; and I was very happy in the whole +venture. Benedict's _Lily o'Killarney_ was written particularly for me, +and was inspired by _Colleen Bawn_, Dion Boucicault's big London +success. I have always understood that Oxenford wrote the libretto of +that--a fine one as librettos go--but Grove's Dictionary says that +Boucicault helped him. + +Perhaps this is as good a place as any in which to mention Sir George +Grove and his dictionary. When I was in London I was told that young +Grove--he was not "Sir" then--was compiling a dictionary; and, not +having a very exalted idea of his ability, I am free to confess that, in +a measure, I snubbed him. In his copiously filled and padded dictionary, +he punished me by giving me less than half a column; considerably less +space than is devoted in the corresponding column to one Michael Kelly +"composer of wines and importer of music!" It is an accurate paragraph, +however, and he heaped coals of fire on my head by one passage that is +particularly suitable to quote in a chapter on English opera: + + She organised an English troupe, herself superintending the + translation of the words, the _mise en scène_, the training of the + singers and the rehearsals of the chorus. Such was her devotion to + the project that, in the winter of '74-'75, she sang no fewer than + one hundred and twenty-five nights. It is satisfactory to hear that + the scheme was successful. Miss Kellogg's musical gifts are + great.... She has a remarkable talent for business and is never so + happy as when she is doing a good or benevolent action. + +I have never been able to determine to my own satisfaction whether the +"remarkable talent for business" was intended as a compliment or not! +The one hundred and twenty-five record is quite correct, a number of +performances that tried my endurance to the utmost; but I loved all the +work. This particular venture seemed more completely my own than +anything on which I had yet embarked. + +We put on _The Flying Dutchman_, at the Academy of Music (New York), and +it was a tremendous undertaking. It was another case of not having any +traditions nor impressions to help us. No one knew anything about the +opera and the part of Senta was as unexplored a territory for me as that +of Marguerite had been. One thing I had particular difficulty in +learning how to handle and that was Wagner's trick of long pauses. There +is a passage almost immediately after the spinning song in _The Flying +Dutchman_ during which Senta stands at the door and thinks about the +Flying Dutchman, preceding his appearance. Then he comes, and they stand +still and look at each other while a spell grows between them. She +recognises Vanderdecken as the original of the mysterious portrait; and +he is wondering whether she is the woman fated to save him by +self-sacrifice. The music, so far as Siegfried Behrens, my director at +the time, and I could see, had no meaning whatever. It was just a long, +intermittent mumble, continuing for eighteen bars with one slight +interruption of thirds. I had not yet been entirely converted to +innovations such as this and did not fully appreciate the value of so +extreme a pause. I knew, of course, that repose added dignity; but this +seemed too much. + +"For heaven's sake, Behrens," said I, "what's the public going to do +while we stand there? Can we hold their interest for so long while +nothing is happening?" + +Behrens thought there might be someone at the German Theatre who had +heard the opera in Germany and who could, therefore, give us +suggestions; but no one could be found. Finally Behrens looked up +Wagner's own brochure on the subject of his operas and came to me, still +doubtful, but somewhat reassured. + +"Wagner says," he explained, "not to be disturbed by long intervals. If +both singers could stand absolutely still, this pause would hold the +public double the length of time." + +We tried to stand "absolutely still." It was an exceedingly difficult +thing to do. In _rôles_ that have tense moments the whole body has to +hold the tension rigidly until the proper psychological instant for +emotional and physical relaxation. The public is very keen to feel this, +without knowing how or why. A drooping shoulder or a relaxed hand will +"let up" an entire situation. The first time I sang Senta it seemed +impossible to hold the pause until those eighteen bars were over. "I +have _got_ to hold it! I have _got_ to hold it!" I kept saying to +myself, tightening every muscle as if I were actually pulling on a wire +stretched between myself and the audience. I almost auto-hypnotized +myself; which probably helped me to understand the Norwegian girl's own +condition of auto-hypnotism! An inspiration led me to grasp the back of +a tall Dutch chair on the stage. That chair helped me greatly and, as +affairs turned out, I held the audience quite as firmly as I held the +chair! + +Afterwards I learned the wonderful telling-power of these "waits" and +the great dignity that they lend to a scene. There is no hurry in +Wagner. His work is full of pauses and he has done much to give leisure +to the stage. When I was at Bayreuth--that most beautiful monument to +genius--I met many actors from the Théâtre Français who had journeyed +there, as to a Mecca, to study this leisurely stage effect among others. + +Our production was a fair one but not elaborate. We had, I remember, a +very good ship, but there were many shortcomings. There is supposed to +be a transfiguration scene at the end in which Senta is taken up to +heaven; but this was beyond us and _I_ was never thus rewarded for my +devotion to an ideal! I liked Senta's clothes and make-up. I used to +wear a dark green skirt, shining chains, and a wonderful little apron, +long and of white woollen. For hair, I wore Marguerite's wig arranged +differently. I should like to be able to put on a production of _Die +Fliegende Holländer_ now! There is just one artist, and only one, whom I +would have play the Dutchman--and that is Renaud, for the reason, +principally, that he would have the necessary repose for the part. I had +understudies as a matter of course. One of them was wall-eyed; and, on +an occasion when I was ill, she essayed Senta. William Carlton, was, as +usual, our Dutchman, and he had not been previously warned of Senta's +infirmity. He came upon it so unexpectedly, indeed, and it was so +startling to him, that he sang the whole opera without looking at her +for fear that he would break down! + + + + +CHAPTER XXV + +ENGLISH OPERA (_Continued_) + + +No account of our English Opera would be complete without mention of +Mike. He was an Irish lad with all the wit of his race, and his head was +of a particularly classic type. He was only sixteen when he joined us, +but he became an institution, and I kept track of him for years +afterwards. His duties were somewhat arbitrary, and chiefly consisted of +calling at the dressing-room of the chorus each night after the opera +with a basket to collect the costumes. Beyond this, his principal +occupation was watching my scenes and generally pervading the +performances with genuine interest. He particularly favoured the third +act of _Faust_, I remember; and absolutely considered himself a part of +my career, constantly making use of the phrase "Me and Miss Kellogg." + +One of the operas we gave in English was my old friend _The Star of the +North_. It was quite as much a success in English as it had been in the +original. We chose it for our _gala_ performance in Washington when the +Centennial was celebrated, and my good friends, President and Mrs. +Grant, were in the audience. The King of Hawaii was also present, with +his suite, and came behind the scenes and paid me extravagant +compliments. His Hawaiian Majesty sent me lovely heliotropes, I +remember,--my favourite flower and my favourite perfume. At one +performance of _The Star of the North_ at a matinée in Booth's Theatre, +New York, there occurred an incident that was reminiscent of my London +experience with Sir Michael Costa's orchestra. It was in the third act, +the camp scene. There is a quartette by Peter, Danilowitz and two +_vivandières_ almost without accompaniment in the tent on the stage, and +I, as Catherine, had to take up the note they left and begin a solo at +its close. The orchestra was supposed to chime in with me, a simple +enough matter to do if they had not fallen from the key. It is +surprising how relative one's pitch is when suddenly appealed to. Even a +very trained ear will often go astray when some one gives it a wrong +keynote. Music more than almost any other art is dependent; every tone +hangs on other tones. That particular quartette was built on a musical +phrase begun by one of the sopranos and repeated by each. She started on +the key. The mezzo took it up a shade flat. The tenor, taking the phrase +from the mezzo, dropped a little more, and when the basso got through +with it, they were a full semitone lower. Had I taken my _attaque_ from +their pitch, imagine the situation when the orchestra came in! My heart +sank as I saw ahead of us the inevitable discord. It came to the last +note. I allowed a half-second of silence to obliterate their false +pitch. Then I _concentrated_--and took up my solo in the _original and +correct key_. That "absolute pitch" again! Behrens expressed his +amazement after the curtain fell. + +The company, after that, was never tired of experimenting with my gift. +It became quite a joke with them to cry out suddenly, at any sort of +sound--a whistle, or a bell: + +"Now, what note is that? What key was that in, Miss Kellogg?" + +Most of our travelling on these big western tours of opera was very +tiresome, although we did it as easily as we could and often had special +cars put at our disposal by railroad directors. We were still looked +upon as a species of circus and the townspeople of the places we passed +through used to come out in throngs at the stations. I have said so much +about the poor hotels encountered at various times while on the road +that I feel I ought to mention the disastrous effect produced once by a +really good hotel. It was at the end of our first English Opera season +and, in spite of the fact that we were all worn out with our +experiences, we proceeded to give an auxiliary concert trip. We had a +special sleeper in which, naturally, no one slept much; and by the time +we reached Wilkesbarre we were even more exhausted. The hotel happened +to be a good one, the rooms were quiet, and the beds comfortable. Every +one of us went promptly to bed, not having to sing until the next night, +and William Carlton left word at the office that he was going to sleep: +"and don't call me unless there's a fire!" he said. In strict accordance +with these instructions nobody did call him and he slept twenty-four +hours. When he awoke it was time to go to the theatre for the +performance and--he found he couldn't sing! He had slept so much that +his circulation had become sluggish and he was as hoarse as a crow. +Consequently, we had to change the programme at the last moment. + +Carlton, like most nervous people, was very sensitive and easily put out +of voice, even when he had not slept twenty-four consecutive hours. Once +in _Trovatore_ he was seized with a sharp neuralgic pain in his eyes +just as he was beginning to sing "Il Balen" and we had to stop in the +middle of it. During this same performance, an unlucky one, Wilfred +Morgan, who was Manrico, made both himself and me ridiculous. In the +_finale_ of the first act of the opera, the Count and Manrico, rivals +for the love of Leonora, draw their swords and are about to attack each +other, when Leonora interposes and has to recline on the shoulder of +Manrico, at which the attack of the Count ceases. Morgan was burly of +build and awkward of movement and, for some reason, failed to support +me, and we both fell heavily to the floor. It is so easy to turn a +serious dramatic situation into ridicule that, really, it was very +decent indeed of our audience to applaud the _contretemps_ instead of +laughing. + +Ryloff, an eccentric Belgian, was our musical director for a short time. +He was exceedingly fond of beer and used to drink it morning, noon, and +night,--especially night. Even our rehearsals were not sacred from his +thirst. In the middle of one of our full dress rehearsals he suddenly +stopped the orchestra, laid down his baton, and said to the men: + +"Boys, I _must_ have some beer!" + +Then he got up and deliberately went off to a nearby saloon while we +awaited his good pleasure. + +I have previously mentioned what a handsome and dashing Fra Diavolo +Theodore Habelmann was, and naturally other singers with whom I sang the +opera later have suffered by comparison. In discussing the point with a +young girl cousin who was travelling with me, we once agreed, I +remember, that it was a great pity no one could ever look the part like +our dear old Habelmann. Castle was doing it just then, and doing it very +well except for his clothes and general make-up. But he was so extremely +sensitive and yet, in some ways, so opinionated, that it was impossible +to tell him plainly that he did not look well in the part. At last, my +cousin conceived the brilliant scheme of writing him an anonymous +letter, supposed to be from some feminine admirer, telling him how +splendid and wonderful and irresistible he was, but also suggesting how +he could make himself even more fascinating. A description of +Habelmann's appearance followed and, to our great satisfaction, our +innocent little plot worked to a charm. Castle bought a new costume +immediately and strutted about in it as pleased as Punch. He really did +present a much more satisfactory appearance, which was a comfort to me, +as it is really so deplorably disillusioning to see a man looking frumpy +and unattractive while he is singing a gallant song like: + +[Illustration: Musical notation; Proud-ly and wide ... my stand-ard + +flies O'er dar-ing heads, a no-ble band!] + +Naturally these tours brought me all manner of adventures that I have +long since forgotten--little incidents "along the road" and meetings +with famous personages. Among them stand out two experiences, one grave +and one gay. The former was an occasion when I went behind the scenes +during a performance of _Henry VIII_ to see dear Miss Cushman (it must +have been in the early seventies, but I do not know the exact date), who +was playing Queen Katherine. She asked me if I would be kind enough to +sing the solo for her. I was very glad to be able to do so, of course, +and so, on the spur of the moment, complied. I have wondered since how +many people in front ever knew that it was I who sang _Angels Ever +Bright and Fair_ off stage, during the scene in which the poor, +wonderful Queen was dying! The other experience of these days which I +treasure was my meeting with Eugene Field. It was in St. Louis, where +Field was a reporter on one of the daily papers. He came up to the old +Lindell Hotel to interview me; but that was something I would _not_ +do--give interviews to the press--so my mother went down to the +reception room with her sternest air to dismiss him. She found the +waiting young man very mild-mannered and pleasant, but she said to him +icily: + +"My daughter never sees newspaper men." + +"Oh," said he, looking surprised, "I'm a singer and I thought Miss +Kellogg might help me. I want to have my voice trained." (This is the +phrase used generally by applicants for such favours.) Mother looked at +the young man suspiciously and pointed to the piano. + +"Sing something," she commanded. + +Field obediently sat down at the instrument and sang several songs. He +had a pleasing voice and an expressive style of singing, and my mother +promptly sent for me. We spent some time with him in consequence, +singing, playing, and talking. It was an excellent "beat" for his paper, +and neither my mother nor I bore him any malice, we had liked him so +much, when we read the interview next day. After that he came to see me +whenever I sang where he happened to be and we always had a laugh over +his "interview" with me--the only one, by the way, obtained by any +reporter in St. Louis. + +On one concert tour--a little before the English Opera venture--we had +arrived late one afternoon in Toledo where the other members of the +company were awaiting me. Petrelli, the baritone, met me at the train +and said immediately: + +"There is a strange-looking girl at the hotel waiting for you to hear +her sing." + +"Oh, dear," I exclaimed, "another one to tell that she hasn't any +ability!" + +"She's _very_ queer looking," Petrelli assured me. + +As I went to my supper I caught a glimpse of a very unattractive person +and decided that Petrelli was right. She was exceedingly plain and +colourless, and had a large turned-up nose. After supper, I went to my +room to dress, as I usually did when on tour, for the theatre +dressing-rooms were impossible, and presently there was a knock at the +door and the girl presented herself. + +She was poorly clad. She owned no warm coat, no rubbers, no proper +clothing of any sort. I questioned her and she told me a pathetic tale +of privation and struggle. She lived by travelling about from one hotel +to the next, singing in the public parlour when the manager would permit +it, accompanying herself upon her guitar, and passing around a plate or +a hat afterwards to collect such small change as she could. + +"I sang last night here," she told me, "and the manager of the hotel +collected eleven dollars. That's all I've got--and I don't suppose he'll +let me have much of that!" + +Of course I, who had been so protected, was horrified by all this. I +could not understand how a girl could succeed in doing that kind of +thing. She told me, furthermore, that she took care of her mother, +brothers, and sisters. + +"I must go to the post-office now and see if there's a letter from +mother!" she exclaimed presently, jumping up. It was pouring rain +outside. + +"Show me your feet!" I said. + +She grinned ruefully as she exhibited her shoes, but she was off the +next moment in search of her letter. When she came back to the hotel, I +got hold of her again, gave her some clothes, and took her to the +concert in my carriage. After I had sung my first song she rushed up to +me. + +"Let me look down your throat," she cried excitedly, "I've got to see +where it all comes from!" + +After the concert we made her sing for us and our accompanist played for +her. She asked me frankly if I thought she could make her living by her +voice and I said yes. Her poverty and her desire to get on naturally +appealed to me, and I was instrumental in raising a subscription for her +so that she could come East. My mother immediately saw the hotel +proprietor and arranged that what money he had collected the night +before should be turned over to her. It has been said that I am +responsible for Emma Abbott's career upon the operatic stage, but I may +be pardoned if I deny the allegation. My idea was that she intended to +sing in churches, and I believe she did so when she first came to New +York. She was the one girl in ten thousand who was really worth helping, +and of course my mother and I helped her. When we returned from my +concert tour, I introduced her to people and saw that she was properly +looked out for. And she became, as every one knows, highly successful in +opera--appearing in many of my own _rôles_. In a year's time from when I +first met her, Emma Abbott was self-supporting. She was a girl of +ability and I am glad that I started her off fairly, although, as a +matter of fact, she would have got on anyway, whether I had done +anything for her or not. Her way to success might have been a longer +way, unaided, but she would have succeeded. She was eaten up with +ambition. Yet there is much to respect in such a dogged determination to +succeed. Of course, she was never particularly grateful to me. Of all +the girls I have helped--and there have been many--only one has ever +been really grateful, and she was the one for whom I did the least. Emma +wrote me a flowery letter once, full of such sentences as "when the +great _Prima Donna_ shined on me," and "I was almost in heaven, and I +can remember just how you sang and looked," and "never can I forget all +your goodness to me." But in the little ways that count she never +actually evinced the least appreciation. Whenever we were in any way +pitted against each other, she showed herself jealous and ungenerous. +She made enemies in general by her lack of tact, and never could get on +in London, for instance, although in her day the feeling there for +American singers was becoming most kindly. + +Emma Abbott did appalling things with her art, of which one of the +mildest was the introduction into _Faust_ of the hymn _Nearer My God to +Thee_! It was in Italy that she did it, too. I believe she introduced it +to please the Americans in the audience, many of whom applauded, +although the Italians pointedly did not. And yet she was always trying +to "purify" the stage and librettos! I have always felt about Emma +Abbott that she had _too much_ force of character. Another thing that I +never liked about her was the manner in which she puffed her own +successes. She was reported to have made five times more than she +actually did; but, at that, her earnings were considerable, for she +would sacrifice much--except the character--to money-getting. Indeed, +she was a very fine business woman. + +I have spoken about George Conly's tragic death by drowning and of the +benefit the Kellogg-Hess English Opera Company gave for his widow. Conly +had also sung with Emma Abbott and, when the benefit was given, she and +I appeared on the same programme. She knew my baritone, Carlton, and +sent for him before the performance. She explained that she wanted him +to appear on the bill with her in _Maritana_ and, also, to see that all +donations from my friends and colleagues were sent to her, so that her +collection should be larger than mine. Carlton explained to her that he +was singing with Miss Kellogg and so would send any money that he could +collect to her. It seems incredible that any one could do so small an +action, and I can only consider it one of many little attempts to be +spiteful and to show me that my erstwhile _protégée_ was now at the "top +of the ladder." + +Her thirst for profits finally was the indirect means of her death. When +Utah was still a territory, the town of Ogden, where many travelling +companies gave concerts, was very primitive. The concert hall had no +dressing-room and was cold and draughty. I always refused outright to +sing in such theatres, or else dressed in my hotel and drove to the +concert warmly wrapped up. Emma Abbott was warned that the stage in the +concert hall of the town of Ogden was bitterly cold. The house had sold +well, however, and the receipts were considerable. Emma dressed in an +improvised screened-off dressing-room, and, having a severe cold to +begin with, she caught more on that occasion, and suddenly developed a +serious case of pneumonia from which she died, a victim to her own +indiscretion. + + + + +CHAPTER XXVI + +AMATEURS--AND OTHERS + + +In the seventies New York was interesting musically, chiefly because of +its amateurs. This sounds something like a paradox, but at that time New +York had a collection of musical amateurs who were almost as highly +cultivated as professionals. It was a set that was extremely interesting +and quite unique; and which bridged in a wonderful way the traditional +gulf between art and society. + +Those of us who were fortunate enough to know New York then look about +us with wonder and amazement now. It seems, with our standards of an +earlier generation, as if there were no true social life to-day, just as +there are left no great social leaders. As for music--but perhaps it +behooves a retired _prima donna_ to be discreet in making comparisons. + +Mrs. Peter Ronalds; Mrs. Samuel Barlow; her daughter Elsie, who became +Mrs. Stephen Henry Olin; May Callender; Minnie Parker--the granddaughter +of Mrs. Hill and later the wife of M. de Neufville;--these and many +others were the amateurs who combined music and society in a manner +worthy of the great French hostesses and originators of _salons_. Mrs. +Barlow was in advance of everybody in patronising music. She was +cultivated and artistic, had travelled a great deal abroad, and had +acquired a great many charming foreign graces in addition to her own +good American brains and breeding, and her fine natural social tact. +When I returned to New York after a sojourn on the other side, she came +to see me one day, and said: + +"Louise, you've been away so much you don't know what our amateurs are +doing. I want you to come to my house to-night and hear them sing." + +Like all professionals, I was a bit inclined to turn up my nose at the +very word "amateur," but of course I went to Mrs. Barlow's that evening, +and I have rarely spent a more enjoyable three hours. Elsie Barlow sang +delightfully. She had a limited voice, but an unusual musical +intelligence; I have seldom heard a public singer give a piece of music +a more delicate and discriminating interpretation. Then Miss May +Callender sang "Nobile Signor" from the _Huguenots_, and astonished me +with her artistic rendering of that _aria_. Miss Callender could have +easily been an opera singer, and a distinguished one, if she had so +chosen. Eugene Oudin, a Southern baritone, also sang with charming +effect. Minnie Parker, an eminent connoisseur in music, had her turn. +She sang "Bel Raggio" from _Semiramide_ with fine execution and all the +Rossini traditions. And I must not forget to mention Fanny Reed, Mrs. +Paran Stevens's sister, who sang very agreeably an _aria_ from _Il +Barbiere_. Altogether it was a most startling and illuminating evening, +and I was proud of my country and of a society that could produce such +amateurs. + +Mrs. Peter Ronalds was another charming singer of that group; as was, +also, Mrs. Moulton, who was Lillie Greenough before her marriage. Both +had delightful and well cultivated voices. Mrs. Moulton had studied +abroad, but for the most part the amateurs of that day were purely +American products. + +I often visited Mrs. Barlow at her country place at Glen Cove, L. I. She +was the most tactful of hostesses, and in her house there was no fuss or +formality, nothing but kind geniality and courtesy. She was the first +hostess in the United States to ask her women guests to bring their +maids; and she never once has asked me to sing when I was there. I did +sing, of course, but she was too well-bred to let me feel under the +slightest obligation. American hostesses are certainly sometimes very +odd in this connection. I have mentioned Fanny Reed and Mrs. Stevens in +Boston, and the time I had to play "Tommy Tucker" and sing for my +supper; and I am now reminded of another occasion even more +unpardonable, one that made me indirectly quite a bit of trouble. + +Once upon a time when I was visiting in Chicago, and was being made much +of as an American _prima donna_ freshly arrived from European triumphs, +some old friends of my father gave me a reception. I had been for nearly +fourteen months abroad, and had come back with the associations and +manners of the best people of the older countries: and this I +particularly mention to suggest what a shock my treatment was to me. + +On the day of the reception I had one of my worst sick headaches. I did +not want to go, naturally, but the husband of the woman giving the +reception called for me and begged that I would show myself there, if +only for a few moments. My mother also urged me to make an effort and +go. I made it--and went. In view of what afterwards occurred, I want to +say that my costume was a black velvet gown created by Worth, with a +heavy, long, handsome coat and a black velvet hat. When I reached the +house I was so ill that I could not stand at the door with my hostess +to receive the guests, but remained seated, hoping that I would not +groan aloud with the throbbing of my head. + +The ladies began arriving, and nearly every one of them was in full +evening dress--_in the afternoon_! Mrs. Marshall Field, I remember, came +in an elaborate point lace shawl, and no hat. + +I had not been there half an hour before I was asked to sing! I had +brought no music, there was no accompanist, and I was so dizzy that I +could hardly see the keys of the piano, yet, as the request was not +altogether the fault of my hostess, I did my best, playing some sort of +an accompaniment and singing something--very badly, I imagine. Then I +went home and to bed. + +That episode was served up to me for eight years. I never went to +Chicago without reading some reference to it in the newspapers, and my +friends have told me that years later it was still discussed with +bitterness. It was stated that I was "ungracious," "rude," and that I +had "insulted the guests by my plain street attire" (shade of the great +Worth!); that I only sang once and then with no attempt to do my best; +that I did not eat the elaborate refreshments; did not rise from my +chair when people were presented to me; and left the house inside an +hour, although the reception was given for me. The bitterest attack was +an article printed in one of the morning papers, an article written by a +woman who had been among the guests. I never answered that or any other +of the attacks because the host and hostess were old friends and felt +very badly about the affair; but I have a memory of Chicago that will go +with me to the grave. It was very different with the New York hostesses +of whom Mrs. Barlow, Mrs. Ronalds, and Mrs. Gilder were the +representatives. By them a singer was treated as a little more, not +less, than an ordinary human being! + +O you unfortunate people of a newer day who have not the memory of that +enchanting meeting-ground in East Fifteenth Street:--the delightful +Gilder studio, the rebuilding of which from a carriage house into a +studio-home was about the first piece of architectural work done by +Stanford White. There was one big, beautiful room, drawing-room and +sitting-room combined, with a fine fireplace in it. Many a time have I +done some scene from an opera there, in the firelight, to a sympathetic +few. Everybody went to the Richard Watson Gilders'--at least, everybody +who was worth while. They were in New York already the power that they +remained for so many years. Some pedantic enthusiast once said of them +that, "The Gilders were empowered by divine right to put the _cachet_ of +recognition upon distinction." + +Miss Jeannette Gilder came into my life as long ago as 1869. I was +singing in a concert in Newark and she was in the wings, listening to my +first song. My mother and my maid were near her and, when I came off the +stage, as we were trying to find a certain song for an _encore_, the +pile of music fell at her feet. Promptly the tall young stranger said: + +"Please let me hold them for you." + +Her whole personality expressed a species of beaming admiration. I +looked at her critically; and from this small service began our +friendship. + +The Gilders were then living in Newark. The father, who was a Chaplain +in the 40th New York Volunteers, died during the Civil War. His sons, +Richard Watson Gilder and William H. Gilder, were also soldiers in the +Civil War. The Richard Watson Gilders were married in 1874. Mrs. Gilder +was Miss Helena de Kay, granddaughter of Joseph Rodman Drake, who was +the author of _The Culprit Fay_. + +I met many interesting people at the Fifteenth Street studio. Helen Hunt +Jackson, I remember well. She was then Mrs. Hunt, long before she had +married Mr. Jackson or had written _Ramona_. She was a most pleasing +personality, just stout enough to be genuinely genial. And Mrs. Frances +Hodgson Burnett I first met there, about the time her _Lass o'Lowrie's_ +appeared, a story we all thought most impressive. George Cable was +discovered by the Gilders, like so many other literary lights, and he +and I used to sing Creole melodies before their big fireplace. His voice +was queer and light, without colour, but correct and well in tune. He +had only one bit of colour in him and that--the poetry of his nature--he +gave freely and exquisitely in his tales of Creole life. At a much later +time I saw something of the old French Quarter of New Orleans of which +he wrote, the whole spirit of which was so lovely. I also first met John +Alexander at the Gilders' after he came back from Paris; and John La +Farge, who brought there with him Okakura, the Japanese art connoisseur. +That was when I first met Okakura; and on the same occasion he was +introduced to Modjeska, she and I being the first stage people he had +ever met socially. + +Later, in '79-'80, I saw a good deal of the Gilders in Paris, where they +had a studio in the Quartier Latin. At that time, Mr. Gilder arranged +for Millet's autobiography which first made him widely known in America; +and in their Paris studio I met Sargent and Bastien Le Page and many +other notables. I recall how becomingly Rodman Gilder--then three or +four years old--was always dressed, in "Little Lord Fauntleroy" fashion +long before the days of his young lordship. It was at this same period +that I went to Fontainebleau to study the Barbizon School and met the +son of Millet, who was trying to paint and never succeeded. + +Speaking of the Gilders reminds me, albeit indirectly, of Helena +Modjeska, whom I first saw in Sacramento, playing _Adrienne Lecouvreur_. +I was simply enchanted and thought I had never seen such delicate and +yet such forcible acting. One reason why I was so greatly impressed was +that I had acquired the foreign standard of acting, and had been much +disturbed when I came home to find such lack of elegance and ease upon +the stage. She had the foreign manner--the grace and, at the same time, +the authority of the great French and German players; and it seemed to +me that she ought to be heard by the big critics. So I wrote home to +Jeannette Gilder in New York an enthusiastic account of this actress who +was being wasted on the Sacramento Valley. The public-spirited efforts +of the Gilders in promoting anything artistic was so well and so long +known that it is almost unnecessary to add that they interested +themselves in the Polish artist and secured for her an opportunity to +play in the East. She came, saw, and conquered; and I shall always feel, +therefore, that I was definitely instrumental in launching Modjeska in +theatrical New York. + +"Didn't I tell you so?" I said to Jeannette Gilder. There was always +something very odd to me about Helena Modjeska. I never liked her +personally half as much as I did as an actress. But she certainly was a +wonderful actress. I once met John McCullough and talked with him about +Modjeska, and he told me that she first acted in Polish to his +English--Ophelia to his Hamlet--out West somewhere, I think it was in +San Francisco. He said that he had been the first to urge her to learn +English, and he was most enthusiastic about the wonderful effect she +created even at that early time. As I had seen her in Sacramento during, +approximately, the same period, I could discuss her with him +sympathetically and intelligently. + +Although I never personally liked Helena Modjeska, I have liked as well +as known many stage folk and have had, first and last, many real friends +among them. It was my good fortune to know the elder Salvini in America. +He happened to be stopping at the same hotel. He looked like a +successful farmer; a very plain man,--very. He told me, among other +interesting things, that no matter how small his part happened to be, he +always played each succeeding act in a stronger colour, maintaining a +steady _crescendo_, so that the last impression of all was the climax. I +remember him in Othello, particularly his delicate and lovely _silent_ +acting. When Desdémona came in and told the court how he had won her, +Salvini only looked at her and spoke but the one word: "Desdémona!"--but +the way he said it "made the tears rise in your heart and gather to your +eyes." + +Irving and Terry, always among my close friends, I first met in London, +at the McHenrys' house in Holland Park. At that time the McHenrys' +Sunday night dinners were an institution. Later, when they came to +America, I saw a great deal of them; and I remember Ellen Terry saying +once, after a luncheon given by me at Delmonico's, "What a splendid +woman Jeannette Gilder is! You know--" and she gave me a rueful +glance--"I am _always_ wrong about men,--but seldom about women!" + +Dear Ellen Terry! She has always been the freshest, the most wholesome, +and the most spontaneous personality on the stage: a sweet and candid +woman, with a sound, warm heart and a great genius. At Lady Macmillan's +a number of people, most of them literary, were discussing that deadly +worthy and respectable actress Madge Robertson--Mrs. Kendall. The morals +of stage people was the subject, and Mrs. Kendall was cited as an +example of propriety. One of the women present spoke up from her corner: + +"Well," said she, "all I can say is that if I were giving a party for +young girls I would steer very clear of Mrs. Kendall and ask Miss Terry +instead. The Kendall lady does nothing but tell objectionable stories +that lead to the glorification of her own purity, but you will never in +a million years hear an indelicate word from the lips of Ellen Terry!" + +The only complaint Henry Irving had to make against New York was that he +"had no one to play with." He insisted, and quite justly, too, that New +York had no leisure class: that cultivated Bohemia, the playground for +people of intellectual tastes and varied interests, did not exist in New +York. He used to say that after the theatre, and after supper, he could +not find anybody at his club who would discuss with him either modern +drama or the old dramatic traditions; or give him any exchange of ideas +or intelligent comradeship. + +[Illustration: =Ellen Terry= + +From a photograph by Sarony] + +He and I had many delightful talks, and I wish now that I had made notes +of the things he told me about stagecraft. He had a great deal to say +about stage lighting, a subject he was for ever studying and about which +he was always experimenting. It was his idea to do away with shadows +upon the stage, and he finally accomplished his effect by lighting the +wings very brilliantly. Until his radical reforms in this direction +the theatres always used to be full of grotesque masses of light and +shade. To-day the art of lighting may be said to have reached +perfection. + +One of the most interesting things about Henry Irving was the way in +which he made use of the smallest trifles that might aid him in getting +his effects. He knew perfectly his own limitations, and was always +seeking to compensate for them. For example, he was utterly lacking in +any musical sense; like Dr. Johnson, he did not even possess an +appreciation of sweet sounds, and did not care to go to either concerts +or operas. But he knew how important music was in the theatre, and he +knew instinctively--with that extraordinary stage-sense of his--what +would appeal to an audience, even if it did not appeal to him. So, if he +went anywhere and heard a melody or sequence of chords that he thought +might fit in somewhere, he had it noted down at once, and collected bits +of music in this way wherever he went. Sometime, he felt, the need for +that particular musical phrase would arrive in some production he was +putting on, and he would be ready with it. That was a wonderful thing +about Irving--he was always prepared. + +Speaking of Irving and his statement about the lack of a cultivated +leisure class in New York, reminds me of the Vanderbilts, who were +shining examples of this very lack, for they were immensely wealthy and +yet did not half understand, at that time, the possibilities of wealth. +William H. Vanderbilt was always my very good friend. His father, +Cornelius, the founder of the family, used to say of him that "Bill +hadn't sense enough to make money himself--he had to have it left to +him!" The old man was wont to add, "Bill's no good anyway!" The +Vanderbilts were plain people in those days, but had the kindest hearts. +"Bill" took a course in practical railroading, filling the position of +conductor on the Hudson River Railroad, from which "job" he had just +been promoted when I first knew him. He did turn out to be some "good" +in spite of his father's pessimistic predictions. + +My mother and I spent many summers at "Clarehurst," my country home at +Cold Spring on the Hudson. The Vanderbilts' railroad, the New York +Central, ran through Cold Spring, so that my Christmas present from +William H. Vanderbilt each year was an annual pass. He began sending it +to me alone, and then included my mother, until it became a regular +institution. We saw something of Mr. and Mrs. Vanderbilt at Saratoga +also, which was then a fashionable resort, before Newport supplanted it +with a higher standard of formality and extravagance. I remember I once +started to ask William H. Vanderbilt's advice about investing some +money. + +"You may know of some good security--" I began. + +"I don't! I don't!" he exclaimed with heat. + +Then he shook his finger at me impressively, saying: + +"Let me tell you something that my father always said, and don't you +ever forget it. He said that 'it takes a smart man to make money, but a +_damned sight smarter one to keep it_!'" + +My place at Cold Spring was where I went to rest between seasons, a +lovely place with the wind off the Hudson River, and gorgeous oak trees +all about. When the acorns dropped on the tin roof of the veranda in the +dead of night they made an alarming noise like tiny ghostly footsteps. + +One day when I was off on an herb-hunting expedition, some highwaymen +tried to stop my carriage, and that was the beginning of troublous times +at Cold Spring. It developed that a band of robbers was operating in our +neighbourhood, with headquarters in a cave on Storm King Mountain, just +opposite us. They made a specialty of robbing trains, and were led by a +small man with such little feet that his footprints were easily enough +traced;--traced, but not easily caught up with! He never was caught, I +believe. But he, or his followers, skulked about our place; and we were +alarmed enough to provide ourselves with pistols. That was when I +learned to shoot, and I used to have shooting parties for target +practice. My father would prowl about after dark, firing off his pistol +whenever he heard a suspicious sound, so that, for a time, what with +acorns and pistols, the nights were somewhat disturbed. + +During the summers I drove all over the country and had great fun +stopping my pony--he was a dear pony, too,--and rambling about picking +flowers. I never passed a spring without stopping to drink from it. I've +always had a passion for woods and brooks; and was the enterprising one +of the family when it came to exploring new roads. Of the beaten track I +can stand only just so much; then my spirit rises in rebellion. I love a +cowpath. + +I used to be an adept, too, at finding flag-root, which was "so good to +put in your handkerchief to take to church"! (We carried our +handkerchiefs in our hands in those days.) Or dill, or fresh fennel, "to +chew through the long service"! Now the dill flavour is called caraway +seed; but it isn't the same, or doesn't seem so. And there was fresh, +sweet, black birch! Could anything be more delicious than the taste of +black birch? The present generation, with its tea-rooms and soda-water +fountains, does not know the refreshment of those delicacies prepared by +Nature herself. I feel sure that John Burroughs appreciates black birch, +being, as he is, one of the survivals of the fittest! + + + + +CHAPTER XXVII + +"THE THREE GRACES" + + +In 1877, I embarked upon a venture that was destined, in spite of much +success, to be one of the most unpleasant experiences of my professional +career. Max Strakosch and Colonel Mapleson, the younger--Henry +Mapleson--organised a Triple-Star Tour all over America, the three being +Marie Roze, Annie Louise Cary, and Clara Louise Kellogg. The press +called us "The Three Graces" and wrote much fulsome nonsense about +"three pure and irreproachable women appearing together upon the +operatic stage, etc." The classification was one I did not care for. +Here, after many intervening years, I enter and put on record my +protest. At the time it all served as advertising to boom the tour and, +as it was most of it arranged for by Mapleson himself, I had to let it +go by in dignified silence. + +Nor was Henry Mapleson any better than he should have been either, in +his personal life or in his business relations, as his wives and I have +reason to know. I say "wives" advisedly, for he had several. Marie Roze +was never really married to him but, as he called her Mrs. Mapleson, she +ought to be counted among the number. At the time of our "Three-Star +Tour," she was playing the _rôle_ of Mapleson's wife and finding it +somewhat perilous. She was a mild and gentle woman, very sweet-natured +and docile and singularly stupid, frequently incurring her managerial +"husband's" rage by doing things that he thought were impolitic, for he +had always to manage every effect. She seldom complained of his +treatment but nobody could know them without being sorry for her. +Previous to this relation with Mapleson, Marie Roze had married an +exceedingly fine man, a young American singer of distinction, who died +soon after the marriage. She had two sons, one of whom, Raymond Roze, +passed himself off as her nephew for years. I believe he is a musical +director of position and success in London at the present day. Henry +Mapleson did not inherit any of the strong points of his father, Col. J. +M. Mapleson of London, who really did know something about giving opera, +although he had his failings and was difficult to deal with. Henry +Mapleson always disliked me and, over and over again, he put Marie in a +position of seeming antagonism to me; but I never bore malice for she +was innocent enough. She had some spirit tucked away in her temperament +somewhere, only, when we first knew her, she was too intimidated to let +it show. When she was singing _Carmen_ she was the gentlest mannered +gypsy that was ever stabbed by a jealous lover--a handsome Carmen but +too sweet and good for anything. Carlton was the Escamillo and he said +to her quite crossly once at rehearsal, + +"You don't make love to me enough! You don't put enough devil into it!" + +Marie flared up for a second. + +"I can be a devil if I like," she informed him. But, in spite of this +assertion, she never put any devil into anything she did--on the stage +at least. + +[Illustration: =Colonel Henry Mapleson= + +From a photograph by Downey] + +Very few singers ever seem to get really inside Carmen. Some of the +modern ones come closer to her; but in my day there was an unwritten law +against realism in emotion. In most of the old standard _rôles_ it was +all right to idealise impulses and to beautify the part generally, but +Carmen is too terribly human to profit by such treatment. She cannot be +glossed over. One can, if one likes, play _Traviata_ from an elegant +point of view, but there is nothing elegant about Mérimée's Gypsy. +Neither is there any sentiment. Carmen is purely--or, rather, +impurely--elemental, a complete little animal. I used to love the part, +though. When I was studying the part, I got hold of Prosper Mérimée's +novel and read it and considered it until I really understood the girl's +nature which, _en passant_, I may say is more than the critic of _The +New York Tribune_ had done. I doubt if he had ever read Mérimée at all, +for he said that my rendering of Carmen was too realistic! The same +column spoke favourably in later years, of Mme. Calvé's performance, so +it was undoubtedly a case of _autres temps, autres moeurs_! Carmen +was, of course, too low for me. It was written for a low mezzo, and +parts of it I could not sing without forcing my lower register. The +Habanera went very well by being transposed half a tone higher; but the +card-playing scene was another matter. The La Morte _encore_ lies very +low and I could not raise it. Luckily the orchestra is quite light there +and I could sing reflectively as if I were saying to myself, as I sat on +the bales, "My time is coming!" + +[Illustration: Musical notation: Ri-pe-te-rà: l'av-el!....an-cor! + +au-cor!..La Morte n-cor!] + +In the fortune-telling quartette I arranged with one of the Gypsy +girls--Frasquita, I think it was,--to sing my part and let me sing hers, +which was very high, and thus relieve me. + +A _rôle_ in which I made my _début_ while I was with Marie Roze and Gary +was Aïda. Mapleson was anxious that Roze should have it, but Strakosch +gave it to me. One of Mapleson's critics wrote severely about my sitting +on a low seat instead of on the steps of the dais during the return of +Rhadames, I remember in this connection. But nothing could prevent Aïda +from being a success and it became one of my happiest _rôles_. A year or +two later when I sang it in London my success was confirmed. Gary was +Amneris in it and ranked next to the Amneris for whom Verdi wrote it, +although she rather over-acted the part. I have never seen an Amneris +who did not. There is something about the part that goes to the head. +Speaking of my new _rôles_ at that period, I must not forget to mention +my mad scene from _Hamlet_; nor my one act of _Lohengrin_ that I added +to my _répertoire_. Lucia had always been one of my successes; and I +believe that one of the points that made my Senta interesting was that I +interpreted her as a girl obsessed with what was almost a monomania. She +was a highly abnormal creature and that was the way I played her. It was +a satisfaction to me that a few people here and there really appreciated +this rather subtle interpretation. In commendation of this +interpretation there appeared an anonymous letter in _The Chicago +Inter-Ocean_, a part of which read: + + "In her rendering of this strange character (Senta) Miss Kellogg + keeps constantly true to the ideal of the great composer, Wagner. + In her acting, as well as in her singing, we see nothing of the + woman; only the abnormal manifestations of the subject of a + monomania. The writer is informed by a physician whose observations + of the insane, extending over many years, enable him to judge of + Miss Kellogg's acting in this character, and he does not hesitate + to say that she delineates truthfully the victim of a mind + diseased. Such a delineation can only be the result of a careful + study of the insane, aided by a wonderful intuitive faculty. The + representation of the mad Ophelia in the last act of _Hamlet_, + given by Miss Kellogg last Saturday, fully confirms the writer in + the belief that no woman since Ristori possesses such power in + rendering the manifestations of the insane." + +[Illustration: =Clara Louise Kellogg as Aïda= + +From a photograph by Mora] + +The portion of my tour with Roze and Cary under the management of Max +Strakosch that took me to the far West, was particularly uncomfortable. +Fortunately the financial results compensated in a large measure for the +annoyances. Not only did I have Mapleson's influence and his +determination to push Marie Roze at all costs to contend with, and the +trying actions and personality of Annie Louise Cary, but I also was +subjected to much embarrassment from a manager named Bianchi, with whom, +early in my career, I had partially arranged to go to California. Our +agreement had fallen through because he was unable to raise the sum +promised me; so, when I did go, with Roze and Cary and Strakosch, he was +exceedingly bitter against me. + +Annie Louise Cary was, strictly speaking, a contralto; yet she contrived +to be considered as a mezzo and even had a try at regular soprano +_rôles_ like _Mignon_. It is almost superfluous to state that she +disliked me. So far as I was concerned, she would have troubled me very +little indeed if she had been willing to let me alone. I would not know +her socially, but professionally I always treated her with entire +courtesy and would have been satisfied to hold with her the most +amicable relations in the world, as I have with all singers with whom I +have appeared in public. Annie Louise Cary, however, willed it +otherwise. _The Tribune_ once printed a long editorial in which Max +Strakosch was described as pacing up and down the room distractedly, +crying: "Oh, what troubles! For God's sake, don't break up my troupe!" +This was rather exaggerated; but I daresay there was more truth than +fiction in it. Poor Max did have his troubles! + +Max Strakosch was an Austrian by birth and, having lived the greater +part of twenty-five years in this country, considered himself an +American. He began his career with Parodi, somewhere back in the rosy +dawn of our operatic history. Parodi was a great dramatic singer--the +only woman of her day--brought over as the rival of Jenny Lind. Later +Max Strakosch was with Thalberg, after which he was connected with the +importation of various opera troupes having in their lists such singers +as Madame Gazzaniga, Madame Coulsen, Albertini, Stigelli, Brignoli, and +Susini. In all these early enterprises he was associated with his +brother Maurice. He would himself have become a musician, but Maurice +advised differently. So, as he expressed it, he always engaged his +artists "by ear"; that is, he had them sing to him and in that way +judged of their availability. Maurice used to say to him, "If you are +merely a technical musician you can only tell what will please +musicians. If you have general musical culture, and know the public, you +can tell what will please the public." And, as Max sometimes amplified, +"I have discovered this to be correct in many cases. Jarrett, who acted +as the agent of Nilsson and Lucca, is not a practical musician. Neither +is Morelli, who is a great impresario; neither is Mapleson. But they +know what the public want and they furnish it." After he separated from +his brother in operatic management, Max travelled with Gottschalk, with +Carlotta Patti, and first brought Nilsson to America. Capoul, Campanini, +and Maurel all made their appearance on the American operatic stage +under his guidance. + + Do you find your artists difficult to manage? [he was asked by a + San Francisco reporter]. + + In some respects, yes, [was his reply]. They have certain operas + which they wish to sing and they decline to learn others. The + public get tired of these and demand novelty. With Miss Kellogg + there is never this trouble. She knows forty operas and knows them + well. She has a wonderful musical memory. She is a student, and + learns everything new that is published. She has worked her way to + her present high position step by step. She is sure of her + position. She has an independent fortune, but loves her art and her + country. But she is not obliged to confine herself to America. She + has offers from London, Paris, and St. Petersburg, and will + probably visit those places next season. She is just now at the + zenith of her powers. She has learned _Paul and Virginia_, a very + charming opera written for Capoul, and which will be given here for + the first time in the United States. If we give our contemplated + season of opera here she will sing Valentine in _The Huguenots_ for + the first time. + +This same reporter has described Max as follows: + + He can be seen almost at any hour about the Palace Hotel when not + engaged with a myriad of musicians--opera singers long ago stranded + on this coast, young vocalists with voices to be tried, chorus + singers seeking employment, players on instruments wanting to + perform in his orchestra, and people who come on all imaginable + errands--or looking at the objects of curiosity about the city. He + is always in a state of vibration; has a tongue forever in motion + and a body never at rest. He is as demonstrative as a Frenchman. He + talks with all the oscillations, bobs, shrugs, and nervous + twitchings of the most mercurial Parisian. He has a pronounced + foreign accent. When speaking, his voice runs over the entire + gamut, only stopping at _C_ sharp above the lines. In the + dining-room he attracts the attention of guests and waiters by the + eagerness of his manner. When interested in the subject of + conversation, he throws his arms sideways, endangering the lives of + his neighbours with his knife and fork, rises in his seat, makes + extravagant gestures.... His greeting is always cordial, + accompanied by a grasp of the hand like a patent vice or the gentle + nip of a hay-press. + +Mlle. Ilma de Murska, "The Hungarian Nightingale," was with us part of +the time on this tour. She was a well-known Amina in _Sonnambula_ and +appeared in our all-star casts of _Don Giovanni_. She was said to have +had five husbands. I know she had a chalk-white face, a belt of solid +gold, and a menagerie of snakes and lizards that she carried about with +her. This is all I remember with any vividness of Murska. + +It all seems long, long ago; and, I find, it is the ridiculously +unimportant things that stand out most clearly in my memory. For +instance, we gave extra concerts, of course, and one of them lasted so +long, thanks to _encores_ and general enthusiasm, that Strakosch had to +send word to hold the train by which we were leaving. But the audience +wanted more, and yet more, and at last I had to go out on the stage and +say: + +"There's a train waiting for me! If I sing again, I'll miss that train!" + +Then the people laughingly consented to let me go. + +Another funny little episode happened in San Francisco, when I did for +once break down in the middle of a scene. It was--let me see--I think it +must have been in our last season of English opera, instead of in "The +Three Graces" tour, for it occurred in _The Talisman_, but speaking of +California suggests it to me. We carried six Russian singers. They all +joined the Greek Church choir later. One of them was a little man about +five feet high, with a sweet voice, but an extremely nervous +temperament. There was an unimportant _rôle_ in _The Talisman_ of a +crusading soldier who had to rush on and sing a phrase to the effect +that St. George's boats and horses were approaching from both sides; I +do not recall the words. The only man who could sing the "bit" was our +five-foot Russian friend. He had to wear a large Saracen helmet and +carry a shield six feet high; and his entrance was a running one. I, +playing Lady Edith Plantagenet, looked around to see the poor little +chap come staggering along under the immense shield and to hear a very +shaky and frightened voice gasp: "Sire, St. George's floats and boats, +and flounts and mounts--" I tried to sing "A traitor! A traitor!" but +got only as far as "A trai--" when I was overcome with an impulse of +laughter and the curtain had to be rung down! + +I recall, too, a visit I had from a Chinese woman. I had bought +something from a Chinese shop in San Francisco, and the wife of the +merchant, dressed most ceremoniously and accompanied by four servants, +came to see me and expressed her desire to have me call on her. So a +cousin who was with me and I went, expecting to see a Chinese interior; +but we found the most _banal_ of American furnishings and surroundings. +Afterwards we visited Chinatown and one of the opium dens, where we saw +the whole process of opium smoking by the men there, lying in bunks +along the wall like shelves. It was on this trip, too, when going West, +that, as we reached the Junction in Utah to branch off to Salt Lake +City, we found the tracks were all filled up with the funeral +train--flat decorated cars with seats--left from the funeral of Brigham +Young. + +But the strongest recollection of all--yes, even than the troubles +between Annie Louise Cary and myself--stands out, of that Western tour, +the knowledge of the good friends I won, personally and professionally, +a collective testimonial of which remains with me in the form of a large +gold brooch shaped like a lyre, across which is an enamelled bar of +music from _Faust_ delicately engraved in gold and with diamonds used as +the notes. On the back is inscribed: + +"Farewell from friends who love thee." + +The same year I sang at the triennial festival of the Händel and Haydn +Society of Boston. Emma Thursby, a high coloratura soprano, was with us. +So were Charles Adams and M. W. Whitney. Gary also sang. It was a very +brilliant musical event for the Boston of those days. It was in Boston, +too, although a little later, that Von Bulow called on me and, speaking +of practising on the piano, showed me his fingers, upon the tips of +every one of which were very tough corns. In further conversation he +remarked, with regard to Wagner, "Ah, he married my widow!" When singing +in Boston one night, during "The Three Graces" tour, at a performance of +_Mignon_, there was noted by one newspaper man who was present the +somewhat curious fact that in singing that Italian opera only one of the +principals sang in his or in her native tongue. Cary was an American, +Roze a Frenchwoman, Tom Karl (Carroll) an Irishman, Verdi (Green) an +American, and myself. The only Italian was Frapoli, the new tenor. + +[Illustration: =Faust Brooch Presented to Clara Louise Kellogg=] + +In 1878, on a Western trip, I remember my making a point, in some place +in Kansas, of singing in an institute on Sunday for the pleasure of the +inmates. We had done this sort of thing frequently before, notably in +Utica. So we went to the prison to sing to the prisoners. I said to the +company, "I am going to sing to give _pleasure_, and not a hymn is to be +in the programme!" When I was told of the desperadoes in the place I was +almost intimidated. The guards were particularly imposing. I played my +own accompaniments and I sang negro melodies. I never had such an +audience, of all my appreciative audiences. Never, I feel sure, have I +given quite so much pleasure as to those lawless prisoners out in +Kansas. + + + + +CHAPTER XXVIII + +ACROSS THE SEAS AGAIN + + +I was glad to be going again to England. My farewell to my native land +was, however, more like an ovation than a farewell. One long table of +the ship's grand saloon was heaped with flowers sent me by friends and +"admirers." The list of my fellow passengers on this occasion was a +distinguished one, including Bishop Littlejohn, Bishop Scarborough, +Bishop Clarkson, and other Episcopal prelates who were going over to +attend the conference in London; the Rev. Dr. John Hall; Maurice Grau, +Max Strakosch, Henry C. Jarrett, John McCullough, Lester Wallack, +General Rathbone of Albany, Colonel Ramsay of the British army, +Frederick W. Vanderbilt, and Joseph Andrede, the Cape of Good Hope +millionaire. I was interviewed by a _Sun_ reporter, on deck, and assured +him that I was going abroad for rest only. + +"No," I said, "I shall not sing a note. How could I, after such a +season--one hundred and fifty nights of constant labour. No; I shall +breathe the sea air, and that of the mountains, and see +Paris--delightful Paris! With such a lovely summer before me, it would +be a little hard to have to work." + +It was like old times to be in England once more. Yet I found many +changes. One of them was in the state of my old friend James McKenzie +who had been in the East Indian trade and had a delightful place in +Scotland adjoining that of the Queen, through which she used to drive +with the incomparable John Brown. I had been invited up there on my +first visit to England, but was not able to accept. When I asked for him +this time I learned that he had been knighted for loaning money to the +Prince of Wales. A girl I knew quite well told me, this year, a touching +little story of a half-fledged romance which had taken place at Sir +James's place in Scotland. The Prince who was known in England as +"Collars and Cuffs" and who died young, was with the McKenzies for the +hunting season and there met my friend,--such a pretty American girl she +was! They fell in love with each other and, though of course nothing +could come of it, they played out their pathetic little drama like any +ordinary young lovers. + +"Come down early to dinner," the Prince would whisper. "I'll have a bit +of heather for you!" + +And when they met in London, later, he took her to Marlborough House and +showed her the royal nurseries and the shelves where his toys were still +kept. The girl nearly broke down when she told me about it. I have +thought of the little story more than once since. + +"He hated to have me courtesy to him," she said. "He used to whisper +quite fiercely: 'don't you courtesy to me when you can avoid it--I can't +bear to have you do it!'" + +My new _rôle_ in London that season was Aïda. For, of course, I was +singing! It went so well that Mapleson (père) wanted to extend my +engagement. But I was very, very tired and, for some reason--this, +probably,--not in my usual "form," to borrow an Anglicism, so I decided +to go to Paris and rest, meanwhile waiting for something to develop that +I liked well enough to accept. Maurice Strakosch had been my agent in +England, but it seemed to me that his methods were becoming somewhat +antiquated. So I gave him up and decided that I would get along without +any agent at all. I also gave up Colonel Mapleson. Mapleson owed me +money--although, for that matter, he owed everybody. Poor Titjiens sang +for years for nothing. So, when, as soon as I was fairly settled in +Paris, the Colonel sent me earnest and prayerful summons to come back to +London and go on singing _Aïda_, I turned a deaf ear and sent back word +that I was too tired. + +My first appearance in London this season was at a Royal Concert at +Buckingham Palace to which, as before, I was "commanded." There were +present many royalties, any number of foreign ambassadors, dukes, +duchesses, marquises, marchionesses, archbishops, earls, countesses, +lords, and viscounts. Her Royal Highness, the Princess of Wales wore, I +remember, a gown of crème satin brocade trimmed with point d'Alençon, +trimmed with pansy-coloured velvet; and her jewels were diamonds, +pearls, and sapphires. Her tiara was of diamonds and she was decorated +with many orders. Said an American press notice: + + Miss Kellogg, it is a pleasure to say, achieved a complete triumph + and received the congratulations of the Prince and Princess of + Wales and of everyone present.... And not a whit behind this was + the great triumph she gained on the evening of June 19th, in her + character of Aïda, without doubt the most impressive and ambitious + of her impersonations, and which has won for her in America the + highest praise from musical people and public on account of the + intensity of feeling which she throws into the dramatic action and + music. The London _Times_ critic, who is undoubtedly the best in + London, bestows praise in unequivocal language for the excellence + of Miss Kellogg's interpretation. That Miss Kellogg has been so + successful as a singer will be glad news to her friends, and that + she has been so successful as an American singer will be still + better news to those people who feel keenly for our national + reputation as lovers and promoters of the fine arts. + +In an interview in London Max Strakosch was asked with regard to his +plans for another season: + + "Why do you contemplate giving English opera instead of Italian?" + + "For two reasons," he replied. "The first is that English is very + popular now and the great generality of people in England and + America prefer it. This is especially the case in England. The + second reason is that, although Kellogg is the equal of an Italian + operatic star, fully as fine as Gerster, immeasurably superior to + Hauck, people with set ideas will always have their favourites, and + partisanship is possible; whereas in English opera Kellogg stands + alone, unapproachable, the indisputable queen." + + "What is all this talk I hear about a lot of rich men coming to the + front in New York to support Mapleson's operatic ventures with + their money?" + + "Why, it is all talk; that's just it. That sort of talk has been + talked for years back, but they never do anything. Why didn't these + rich men that want opera in New York give me any money? I stood + ready to bring out any artists they wanted if they would guarantee + me against loss. But they never did anything of the kind, and I + have brought out the leading artists of our times at my own risks. + The only man who's worth anything of all that lot that's talking so + much about opera now in New York is Mr. Bennett. He's got the + _Herald_, and that has influence." + + "What do you think of Americans as an opera-going people?" he was + asked. + + "While we have many music-lovers in America, it is nevertheless a + difficult matter to cater to our public," Max replied. "Here in + England there is such an immense constituency for opera; people who + have solid fortunes, which nothing disturbs, and who want opera and + all other beautiful and luxurious things, and will pay largely for + them. In America hard times may set everybody to economising and, + of course, one of the first things cut off is going to the opera." + + "Was all that gossip about disputes and jealousies between Kellogg + and Gary last season a managerial dodge for notoriety?" + + "Dear me, no. I haven't the slightest idea how all that stuff and + nonsense started. Kellogg and Gary were always good friends. If + Gary wasn't pleased with her treatment last year, why should she + engage with us again? Besides, what rivalry could there possibly be + between a soprano and a contralto? The soprano is the _prima donna_ + incontestably, the star of the troupe." + +In Paris my mother and I took an apartment on the Rue de Chaillot, just +off the Champs Élysées. One of the first things I did in Paris was to +refuse an offer to sing in Budapesth. While in Paris I, of course, did +sing many times, but it was always unprofessionally. I had a wonderful +stay in Paris, and went to everything from horse shows to operas. Those +were the charming days when Mme. Adam had her _salon_. I met there some +of the most gifted and brilliant people of the age. She was the editor +of the _Nouvelle Revue_, and it was through her that I met Coquelin. He +frequently recited at her receptions; and it was a great privilege to +hear his wonderful French and his inimitable intonation in an _intime_ +way. + +The house where I enjoyed visiting more than any other except the +Adams', was that of Theodore Robin, who had married a rich American +widow and had a beautiful home on Parc Monceau. His baritone voice was +a very fine one, and he had studied at first with a view to making a +career for himself; but he was naturally indolent and, having married +money, his indolence never decreased. Valentine Black was another friend +of ours and we spent many an evening at his house listening to Godard +and Widor play their songs. Widor was the organist at Saint Sulpice and +had composed some charming lyric music. Godard was a very small man, +intensely musical. He had the curious gift of being able to copy another +composer's style exactly. Few people know, for instance, that he wrote +all the recitative music for _Carmen_. It is almost incredible that +another brain than Bizet's should have so marvellously caught the spirit +and the mood of that music. + +The Stanley Club gave me a dinner in the following March at which my +mother and I were the only ladies present. Mr. Ryan was the President of +the Club and represented the _New York Herald_. The foreign +correspondents of the _Evening Post_ and the _Boston Advertiser_ were +there, and next to Ryan sat Richard Watson Gilder who was representing +the _Century Magazine_. There were also there several poets and writers, +and more than one painter whose picture hung in the _Salon_ of that +year. No one asked me to sing; but I felt that I wanted to and did so. +After the "Jewel Song" and the "Polonaise," someone asked for "Way Down +on the Suwanee River." I sang it, and was struck by the incongruous +touch of the little negro melody, the brilliant Stanley Club, and all +Paris outside. + +No one can live in the atmosphere of artistic Paris without being +interested in other branches of art besides one's own. That is a +charming trait of French people;--they are not a bit prejudiced when it +comes to recognising forms of genius that are unfamiliar. The stupidest +Parisian painter will weep over Tschaikowsky's _Pathétique Symphony_ or +will wildly applaud one of the rather cumbersome Racine tragedies at the +Théâtre Français. I knew Cabanel quite well (not, I hasten to add, that +he would be apt to cultivate an artistic taste in anybody) and I met +Jules Stewart at the Robins', whose father was the greatest collector of +Fortuneys in the world. I think it was he who took me to the Loan +Exhibition of the Barbizon School of Painting that year. The pictures +were hung beautifully, I remember, so that one could see the stages of +their development. + +It was about the same time that I first heard Josephine de Reszke in +Paris. In any case it was somewhere in the seventies. She was a soprano +with a beautiful voice but not an attractive personality. Her neck was +exceptionally short and set so far down into her shoulders that she just +escaped deformity. She was very much the blonde, northern type, and +still a young woman. I have heard that she did not have to sing for +monetary reasons. A few years later she married a wealthy Polish banker +and left the stage. At the time I first heard her the de Reszke men were +not singing. It was in _Le Roi de Lahore_ that I heard her, with +Lascelle. I never listened to anything more magnificently done than +Lascelle's singing of the big baritone _aria_. Maurel followed him as a +baritone. He was a great artist also, with possibly more intelligence in +his singing than Lascelle. Lascelle relied entirely on his glorious +voice; in consequence he never realised all in his career that might +have been possible. In reality, if you have one great gift, you have to +develop as many other gifts as possible in order to present and to +protect that one properly! A little later I heard Maurel in _Iago_. +(This reminds me of _Othello_ in Munich, when Vogel, the tenor, sang out +of tune and nearly spoiled Maurel's work). What an actor, and what an +intelligence! One felt in Maurel a man who had studied his _rôles_ from +the original plots. He played a great part in costuming, but, curiously +enough, he could never play parts of what I call elemental +picturesqueness. His Amonasro in _Aïda_ was good, but it was a bit too +clean and tidy. He looked as if he were just out of a Turkish bath, +immaculate, in spite of his uncivilised guise. He could, however, play a +small part as if it were the finest _rôle_ in the piece; and he had an +inimitable elegance and art, even with a certain primitive romantic +quality lacking. But what days those were--of what marvellous singing +companies! I hear no such vocalism now, in spite of the elaborate and +expensive opera that is put on each year. + +In my mother's diary of this period I find: + + Louise presented to Verdi and we had no idea she would appear in + any newspaper in consequence.... + + She went to hear the damnation of _Faust_ last Sunday and says the + orchestra was _very_ fine. The singing is not so much. She went to + hear _Aïda_ last night at the Grau Opera House with Verdi to + conduct and Krauss as Aïda. Chorus and orchestra fine artists. + _Well_--she was _disappointed_! Krauss sings so false and has not + as much power as Louise. She came home quite proud of herself. Took + her opera and marked everything. Says her _tempo_ was very nearly + correct; but yet she was disappointed. Krauss changes her dress. + Louise does not.... + + We went to Miss Van Zandt's _début_. She made a veritable success. + Has a very light tone. The _Théâtre Comique_ is small. She is + extremely slender and, if not worked too hard, will develop into a + fine artist. Our box joined Patti's. I sat next to her and we lost + no time in chatting over everything that was interesting to us + both. She told me her whole story. I was very much interested; and + had a most agreeable evening. Was glad I went. + +In a letter written by my mother to my father I find another mention of +my meeting Verdi: + +"Louise was invited to breakfast with Verdi, the composer of _Aïda_. She +said he was the most natural, unaffected, and the most amiable man +(musical) she ever met." + + + + +CHAPTER XXIX + +TEACHING AND THE HALF-TALENTED + + +I have gone abroad nearly every summer and it was on one of these trips, +in 1877, that I first met Lilian Nordica. It was at a garden party given +by the Menier Chocolat people at their _usine_ just outside Paris, after +she had returned from making a tour of Europe with Patrick Gilmore's +band. A few years later she and I sang together in Russia; and we have +always been good friends. At the time of the Gilmore tour she was quite +a girl, but she dressed her hair in a fashion that made her look much +older than she really was and that threw into prominence her admirably +determined chin. She always attributed her success in life to that chin. +Before becoming an opera singer she had done about everything else. She +had been a book-keeper, had worked at the sewing machine, and sung in +obscure choirs. The chin enabled her to surmount such drudgery. A young +person with a chin so expressive of determination and perseverance could +not be downed. She told me at that early period that she always kept her +eyes fixed on some goal so high and difficult that it seemed impossible, +and worked toward it steadily, unceasingly, putting aside everything +that stood in the path which led to it. In later years she spoke again +of this, evidently having kept the idea throughout her career. "When I +sang Elsa," she said, "I thought of Brunhilde,--then Isolde,--" My +admiration for Mme. Nordica is deep and abounding. Her breathing and +tone production are about as nearly perfect as anyone's can be, and, if +I wanted any young student to learn by imitation, I could say to her, +"Go and hear Nordica and do as nearly like her as you can!" There are +not many singers, nor have there ever been many, of whom one could say +that. And one of the finest things about this splendid vocalism is that +she has had nearly as much to do with it as had God Almighty in the +first place. When I first knew her she had no dramatic quality above _G_ +sharp. She could reach the upper notes, but tentatively and without +power. She had, in fact, a beautiful mezzo voice; but she could not hope +for leading _rôles_ in grand opera until she had perfect control of the +upper notes needed to complete her vocal equipment. She went about it, +moreover, "with so much judition," as an old man I know in the country +says. But it was not until after the Russian engagement that she went to +Sbriglia in Paris and worked with him until she could sing a high _C_ +that thrilled the soul. That _C_ of hers in the Inflammatus in Rossini's +_Stabat Mater_ was something superb. Not many singers can do it as +successfully as Nordica, although they can all accomplish a certain +amount in "manufactured" notes. Fursch-Nadi, also a mezzo, had to +acquire upper notes as a business proposition in order to enlarge her +_répertoire_. She secured the notes and the requisite _rôles_; yet her +voice lost greatly in quality. Nordica's never did. She gained all and +lost nothing. Her voice, while increasing in register, never suffered +the least detriment in tone nor _timbre_. + +It was Nordica who first told me of Sbriglia, giving him honest credit +for the help he had been to her. Like all truly big natures she has +always been ready to acknowledge assistance wherever she has received +it. Some people--and among them artists to whom Sbriglia's teaching has +been of incalculable value--maintain a discreet silence on the subject +of their study with him, preferring, no doubt, to have the public think +that they have arrived at vocal perfection by their own incomparable +genius alone. All of my training had been in my native country and I had +always been very proud of the fact that critics and experts on two +continents cited me as a shining example of what American musical +education could do. All the same, when I was in Paris during an off +season, I took advantage of being near the great teacher, Sbriglia, to +consult him. I really did not want him actually to do anything to my +voice as much as I wanted him to tell me there was nothing that needed +doing. At the time I went to him I had been singing for twenty years. +Sbriglia tried my voice carefully and said: + +"Mademoiselle, you have saved your voice by singing far _forward_." + +"That's because I've been worked hard," I told him, "and have had to +place it so in self-defence. Many a night I've been so tired it was like +_pumping_ to sing! Then I would sing 'way, _'way_ in front and, by so +doing, was able to get through." + +"Ah, that's it!" said he. "You've sung against your teeth--the best +thing in the world for the preservation of the voice. You get a _white_, +flat sound that way." + +"Then I don't sing wrong?" I asked, for I knew that the first thing +great vocal masters usually have to do is to tell one how not to sing. + +"Mademoiselle," said Sbriglia, "you breathe by the grace of God! +Breathing is all of singing and I can teach you nothing of either." + +Sbriglia's method was the old Italian method known to teachers as +_diaphragmatic_, of all forms of vocal training the one most productive +of endurance and stability in a voice. I went several times to sing for +him and, on one occasion, met Plançon who had been singing in Marseilles +and, from a defective method, had begun to sing out of tune so badly +that he resolved to come to Paris to see if he could find someone who +might help him to overcome it. He was quite frank in saying that +Sbriglia had "made him." I used to hear him practising in the Maestro's +apartment and would listen from an adjoining room so that, when I met +him, I was able to congratulate him on his improvement in tone +production from day to day. Phrasing and expression are what make so +many great French artists--that, and an inborn sense of the general +effect. French actors and singers never forget to keep themselves +picturesque and harmonious. They may get off the key musically but never +_artistically_. Germans have not a particle of this sense. They are +individualists, egoists, and are forever thinking of themselves and not +of the whole. When I heard Slezak, I said to myself: "If only somebody +would photograph that man and show him for once what he looks like!" + +The worst thing Sbriglia had to contend with was the obtuseness of +people. They did not know when they were doing well or ill, and would +not believe him when he told them. I remember being there one day while +a young Canadian girl was making tones for the master. She had a good +voice and could have made a really fine effect if she could only have +heard herself with her brain. After he had been working with her for a +time, she sang a delightful note properly placed. + +"Good!" exclaimed Sbriglia. + +"That was lovely," I put in. + +"_That?_ I wouldn't sing like that for anything! It sounded like an old +woman's voice!" cried the girl, quite amazed. + +Sbriglia threw up his hands in a frenzy and ordered her out of the +house. So that was an end of her as far as he was concerned. + +Sbriglia really loved to teach. It was a genuine joy to him to put the +finishing touches on a voice; to do those things for it that, +apparently, the Creator had not had time to do. I know one singer who, +when complimented upon his vast improvement, replied without the +slightest intention of impiety: + +"Yes, I am singing well now, thanks to Sbriglia,--and, of course, _le +bon Dieu_!" he added as an after-thought. + +Everyone knows what Sbriglia did for Jean de Reszke, turning him from an +unsuccessful baritone into the foremost tenor of the world. Sbriglia +first met the Polish singer at some Paris party, where de Reszke told +him that he was discouraged, that his career as a baritone had not been +a fortunate one, and that he had about made up his mind to give it all +up and leave the stage. He was a rich man and did not sing for a living +like most professionals. Sbriglia had heard him sing. Said he: + +"M. de Reszke, you are not a baritone." + +"I am coming to that conclusion myself," said Monsieur ruefully. + +"No, you are not a baritone," repeated Sbriglia. "You are a tenor." + +Jean de Reszke laughed. A tenor? He? But it was absurd! + +Nevertheless Sbriglia was calmly assured; and he was the greatest master +of singing in France, if not in the world. After a little conversation, +he convinced M. de Reszke sufficiently, at least, to give the new theory +a chance. + +"You need not pay me anything," said the great teacher to the young man. +"Not one franc will I take from you until I have satisfied you that my +judgment is correct. Study with me for six months only and then I will +leave it to you--and the world!" + +That was the beginning of the course of study which launched Jean de +Reszke upon his extraordinarily prosperous and brilliant career. + +Speaking of Sbriglia leads my thoughts from the study of singing in +general to the struggle of young singers, first, for education, and, +second, for recognition. I would like to impress upon those who think of +trying to make a career or who would like to make one the benefit to be +derived from reading the twenty-third and twenty-fourth chapters of +George Eliot's _Daniel Deronda_, in which she makes clear how much early +environment counts. There must have been some musical atmosphere, even +if not of an advanced or educated kind. Music must be absorbed with the +air one breathes and the food one eats, so as to form part of the blood +and tissue. + +It is sad to see the number of girls with the idea that they are +possessed of great gifts just ready to be developed by a short period of +study, after which they will blossom out into successful singers. +Injudicious friends--absolutely without judgment or musical +discrimination--are responsible for the cruel disillusions that so +frequently follow. I would like to cry out to them to reject the +thought; or only to entertain it when encouraged by those capable by +experience or training of truly judging their gifts. Many and many a +girl comes out of a household where the highest musical knowledge has +been the hand-organ in the street, and believes that she is going to +take the world by storm. She is prepared to save and scrimp and struggle +to go upon the stage when she really should be stopping at home, ironing +the clothes and washing the dishes allotted her by a discriminating and +judicious Providence. Said Klesner to Gwendolen who wants to go on the +stage in _Daniel Deronda_: + + You have exercised your talents--you recite--you sing--from the + drawing-room _Standpunkt_. My dear _Fräulein_, you must unlearn all + that. You have not yet conceived what excellence is. You must + unlearn your mistaken admirations. You must know what you have to + strive for, and then you must subdue your mind and body to unbroken + discipline. Your _mind_, I say. For you must not be thinking of + celebrity. Put that candle out of your eyes and look only at + excellence. You would, of course, earn nothing. You could get no + engagement for a long while. You would need money for yourself and + your family.... + + A mountebank's child who helps her father to earn shillings when + she is six years old--a child that inherits a singing throat from a + long line of choristers and learns to sing as it learns to + talk--has a likelier beginning. Any great achievement in acting or + in music grows with the growth. Whenever an artist has been able to + say, "I came, I saw, I conquered," it has been at the end of + patient practice. Genius at first is little more than a great + capacity for receiving discipline. Singing and acting, like the + fine dexterity of the juggler with his cups and balls, require a + shaping of the organs toward a finer and finer certainty of + effect. Your muscles--your whole frame--must go like a watch, true, + true, true, to a hair. That is the work of springtime, before + habits have been determined. + +This demonstrates what I cannot emphasise too heartily--the +impossibility of taking people out of their normal environment and +making anything worth while of them. There is a place in the world for +everybody and, if everybody would stay in that place, there would be +less confusion and fewer melancholy misfits. Singing is not merely +vocal. It is spiritual. One must be _in_ music in some way; must hear it +often, or, even, hear it talked about. Merely hearing it talked about +gives one a chance to absorb some musical ideas while one's mental +attitude is being moulded. Studying in classes supplies the musical +atmosphere to a certain extent; and so does hearing other people sing, +or reading biographies of musicians. All these are better than +nothing--much better--and yet they can never take the place of really +musical surroundings in childhood. Being brought up in a household where +famous composers are known, loved, and discussed, where the best music +is played on the piano and where certain critical standards are a part +of the intellectual life of the inmates is a large musical education in +itself. The young student will absorb thus more real musical feeling, +and judgment, and knowledge, than in spending years at a conservatory. + +I have often and often received letters asking for advice and begging me +to hear the voices of girls who have been told they have talent. It is a +heart-breaking business. About one in sixty has had something resembling +a voice and then, ten chances to one, she has not been in a position to +cultivate herself. It is difficult to tell a girl that a woman must +have many things besides a voice to make a success on the stage. It +seems so--well!--so _conceited_--to say to her: + +"My poor child, you must have presence and personality; good teeth and a +knowledge of how to dress; grace of manner, dramatic feeling, high +intelligence, and an aptitude for foreign languages besides a great many +other essentials that are too numerous to mention but that you will +discover fast enough if you try to go ahead without them!" + +An impulsive and warm-hearted friend was visiting me once when I +received a letter from a young woman whom I will call "E. H.," asking +permission to come and sing for me. I read the note in despair and threw +it over to my friend. + +"What are you going to do about it?" she asked, after she had glanced +through it. + +"Nothing. The girl has no talent." + +"How do you know that?" protested my friend. + +"By her letter. It is a crassly ignorant letter. I feel perfectly sure +that she can't sing." + +"You are very unkind!" my friend reproached me. "You ought at least to +hear her. You may be discouraging a genuine genius----" + +"Now see here," I interrupted, "'E. H.' is evidently ignorant and +uneducated. She further admits that she is poor. These facts taken +together make a terrible handicap. She'd have to be a miracle to make +good in spite of them." + +"I will pay her expenses to come here and see you," declared my dear +friend, obstinate in well-doing, like many another mistaken +philanthropist. + +I told her that she might take that responsibility if she liked, but +that I would have nothing to do with raising a girl's false hopes in +any such way. "It's a little hard on her," I said, "to have to borrow +money to take a journey simply to be told that she can't sing. However, +have it your own way and bring her." + +She came. I saw her approaching up the driveway and simply pointed her +out to my misguided friend. Anyone would have known the minute he saw +"E. H." that she could not sing. She slouched and dragged her feet and +was hopelessly ordinary, every inch of her. It was not merely a matter +of plainness, but something far worse. She was quite hopeless. It turned +out, poor soul, that she was a chambermaid in a hotel. People had heard +her singing at her work and had told her that she ought to have her +voice cultivated. It was, as usual, a case of injudicious friends, and, +by the way, the very fact of being carried away by such praise is in +itself a mark of a certain lack of intelligence. This girl had no +temperament, no ear, no equipment, no taste, no advantages in the way of +having heard music. I had to say to her: + +"You have a pretty voice but nothing else, and not a sign of a career. +Dismiss it all, for you must have something more than a few sweet +notes." + +She cried, and I did, too. I hate to be obliged to tell girls such +disagreeable truths. + +Another girl came to me with her mother. She was full of herself and her +mother equally wrapped up in her. She had taken part in small village +affairs in the little Connecticut town where she lived. Her voice was +not bad, but she produced her notes in a wrong manner. Her teacher had +encouraged her and promised her success. But teachers do that, many of +them! I do not know that they can altogether be blamed. + +"You don't breathe right," I said to this Connecticut girl. "You don't +produce your tone right. You've no experience and, of course, you +believe your teacher. But you forget one thing. Your teacher has to live +and you pay him for stimulating you, even if he does so without +justification." + +What I did not go on to say to her, although I longed to, was that she +was not the _build_ of which _prime donne_ are made. A _prima donna_ has +to be compactly, sturdily made, with a strong backbone to support her +hard work and a _lifted_ chest to let the tones out freely. A niece of +Bret Harte's, who appeared for a time in grand opera, drooped her chest +as she exhausted her breath and, when I saw her do it, I said: + +"She sings well; but she won't sing long!" + +She didn't. + +My Connecticut girl was big and sloppy, a long-drawn-out person, such as +is never, never gifted with a big voice. + +There is something else which is very necessary for every girl to +consider in going on the operatic stage. Has she the means for +experimenting, or does she have to earn her living in some way +meanwhile? If the former is the case, it will do no harm for her to play +about with her voice, burn her fingers if need be, and come home to her +mother and father not much the worse for the experience. I sympathise +somewhat with the teachers in not speaking altogether freely in cases +like these. There is no reason why anyone should take from a girl even +one remote chance if _she_ can afford to take it. But poor girls should +be told the truth. So I said to my young Connecticut friend: + +"My dear, you are trying to support yourself and your mother, aren't +you? Very well. Now, suppose you go on and find that you can't--what +will you do then? What are you fitted for? What can you turn your hand +to? What have you acquired? Look how few singers ever arrive and, if you +are not one of the few, will you not merely have entirely unfitted +yourself for the life struggle along other lines?" + +Herewith I say the same to four-fifths of all the girl singers who, in +villages, in shops, in schools, everywhere, are all yearning to be +great. They came to me in shoals in Paris and Milan, begging for just +enough money to get home with. I have shipped many a failure back to +America, and my soul has been sick for their disappointment and +disillusionment. But they will _not_ be guided by advice or warning. +They have got to learn actually and bitterly. Neither are they ever +grateful for discouragement nor yet for encouragement. If you give them +the former, they think you are a selfish pessimist; and if you give them +the latter, they accept it as no more than their due. As I have +previously mentioned, I have known only one grateful girl and she was of +ordinary ability. Emma Abbott, for whom I certainly did a great deal, +was only grateful because she knew it was expected of her by the world +at large. I believe she really thought that all I did was to hasten her +success a little and that she really had not needed my assistance. +Possibly, she had not. But this other girl, to whom I gave a little, +unimportant advice, wrote me afterwards a most appreciative letter, +saying that my advice had been invaluable to her. It was the only word +of genuine gratitude I ever received from a young singer; and I kept her +letter as a curiosity. + +I believe there are, or were, more would-be _prime donne_ in Chicago +than anywhere else on earth. I shall never forget appointing a Thursday +afternoon in the Windy City to hear twelve aspirants to operatic +fame--pretty, fresh, self-conscious, young girls for the most part. +There was one of the number who was particularly pretty and particularly +aggressive. She criticised the others lavishly, but hung back from +singing herself. She talked a great deal about her voice, saying that +she had sung for Theodore Thomas and that he had told her there was no +hall big enough for it! Such colossal conceit prejudiced me in advance +and I must confess I felt a little curiosity to hear this "phenomenal +organ." It proved to be perfectly useless. She had neither power nor +quality nor comprehension. She could, however, make a big noise, as I +told her. On Sunday my friends began coming in to see me, full of an +article that had appeared in one of the papers that morning. Everyone +began with: + +"Good morning, Louise. My dear! Have you seen,"--etc. + +The article, that had quite openly been given the paper by the young +lady whose voice had been so much admired by Theodore Thomas, described +my unkindness to young singers, my jealous objection to praising +aspirants, my discouragement of good voices! + +As a matter of fact, I have always been the friend of young girls, +especially of young singers. So far from wishing to hurt or discourage +them, I have often gone out of my way to help them along. And I believe +that every time I have been obliged to tell a young and eager girl that +there was no professional triumph ahead of her, it has cut me almost, if +not quite, as deeply as it has cut her. For I always feel that I am +maiming, even killing some beautiful thing in discouraging her,--even +when I know it to be necessary and beneficial. + +Another thing that I wish young would-be artists would remember is +that, if it is worth while to sing the music of a song, it is equally +worth while to sing the words, and that you cannot sing the words +really, unless you are singing their meaning. Do I make myself +understood, I wonder? Once a girl with a sweetly pretty voice sang to me +Nevin's _Mighty Lak a Rose_, the little negro song which Madame Nordica +gave so charmingly. When the girl had finished, I said: + +"My dear, have you read those words?" + +She looked at me blankly. I know she thought I was crazy. + +"Because," I proceeded, "if you read the poetry over before you sing +that song again, you'll find that it will help you." + +She had, I presume, "read" the words or she could not have actually +pronounced them; but she had not made the slightest attempt to read the +spirit of the little song. No picture had come to her of a rosy baby +dropping asleep and of a loving mammy crooning over him. She had not +read the _feeling_ of the song, even if she had memorised the syllables. +Girls hate to work. They, even more than boys, want a short cut to +efficiency and success. Labour and effort are cruel words to them. They +want the glamour and the fun all at once. What would they say to the +noble and inspiring example of old E. S. Jaffray, a merchant of sixty, +whom I once knew, who, at that age, decided to learn Italian in order to +read Dante in the original? + +The best way--as I have said before and as I insist on saying--for +anyone to learn to sing is by imitation and assimilation. My friend +Franceschetti, a Roman gentleman, poor but of noble family, has classes +that I always attend when I am in the Eternal City, and wherein the +instruction is most advantageously given. He criticises each student in +the presence of the others and, if the others are listening at all +intelligently, they must profit. But you must listen, and then listen, +and then keep on listening, and finally begin to listen all over again. +You must keep your ear ready, and your mind as well. + +Just as Faure, when he heard the bad baritone, said to himself, "that's +my note! Now how does he do it?" so you must hold yourself ready to +learn from the most humble as well as from the most unlikely sources. +Never forget that Faure learned from the really poor singer what no good +one had been able to teach him. Remember, too, that Patti learned one of +her own flexible effects from listening to Faure himself: and that these +great artists were not too proud to acknowledge it. I never went to hear +Patti, myself, without studying the fine, forward placing of her voice +and coming home immediately and trying to imitate it. + +Yet, after all one's efforts to help, one can only let the young singers +find out for themselves. If we could profit by each other's experience, +there would be no need for the doctrine of reincarnation. But I +wish--oh, how I wish--that I could save some foolish girls from +embarking on the ocean of art as half of them do with neither chart or +compass, nor even a seaworthy boat. + +A better metaphor comes to me in my recollection of a famous lighthouse +that I once visited. The rocks about were strewn with dead +birds--pitiful, little, eager creatures that had broken their wings and +beaten out their lives all night against the great revolving light. So +the lighthouse of success lures the young, ambitious singers. And so +they break their wings against it. + + + + +CHAPTER XXX + +THE WANDERLUST AND WHERE IT LED ME + + +That season of 1879 in Paris was certainly a wonderful one; and yet, +before it was over, I caught that strange fever of unrest that sends +birds migrating and puts the Romany tribes on the move. With me it came +as a result of over-fatigue and ill-health; an instinctive craving for +the medicine of change. The preceding London season had been exacting +and, in Paris, I had not had a moment in which to really rest. Although +the days had been filled most pleasantly and interestingly, they had +been filled to over-flowing, and I was very, very tired. So, in the grip +of the wanderlust, we packed our trunks and went to Aix-les-Bains. We +had not the slightest idea what we would do next. My mother was not very +well, either, and my coloured maid, Eliza, had to be in attendance upon +her a good deal of the time, so that I was forced to consider the detail +of proper chaperonage. We were in a French settlement and I was a _prima +donna_, fair game for gossip and comment. Therefore, I invited a friend +of mine, a charming young Englishwoman, down from Paris to visit me. She +was very curious about America, I remember. She was always asking me +about "the States" and was especially interested in my accounts of the +anti-negro riots. The fact that they had been almost entirely instigated +by the Irish Catholics in New York excited her so that she felt obliged +to go and talk with a priest in Aix about it. It was she, also, who said +something one day that I thought both amusing and significant. + +"My dear," she exclaimed, "tell me what are 'buttered nuts'?" + +"Never heard of them," I replied. + +"Oh, yes, my dear Louise, you must have! They are in all American +books!" + +Of course she meant _butternuts_, as I laughingly explained. A moment +later she observed meditatively, "you know, I never take up an American +novel that I don't read some description of food!" + +I think what she said was quite true. I have remarked it since. Although +I do not consider that we are a greedy nation in practice when it comes +to food, we do love reading and hearing about good things to eat. + +Presently, as my mother felt better and had no real need of me, I +decided to take a little trip, leaving her at Aix with Eliza. Not quite +by myself, of course. I never reached such a degree of emancipation as +that. But I asked my English friend to go with me, and one fine day she +and I set out in search of whatever entertaining thing might come our +way. I had been so held down to routine all my life, my comings and +goings had been so ordered and so sensible, that I deeply desired to do +a bit of real gypsy wandering without the handicap of a travelling +schedule. No travelling is so delightful as this sort. Don Quixote it +was, if I remember rightly, who let his horse wander whithersoever he +pleased, "believing that in this consisted the very being of +adventures." + +We went first to Geneva and so over the Simplon Pass into Italy. We +dreamed among the lakes, reading guide-books to help us decide on our +next stopping-point. So, on and on, until after a while we reached +Vienna. Three hours after my arrival there Alfred Fischoff, the Austrian +impresario, routed me out. + +"Where are you bound for?" he wanted to know. + +"Nowhere. That is just the beauty of it!" + +"Ah!" he commented understandingly. And then he asked, "How would you +like to sing?" + +Even though I was on a pleasure trip the idea allured me, for I always +like to sing. + +"Sing where?" I questioned. + +"Here, in Vienna." + +"I couldn't. I don't sing in German," I objected. + +"You could sing _als Gast_" (as a guest), he said. + +Finally it was so arranged and, I may add, I was the only _prima donna_ +except Nilsson who had ever been permitted to sing in Italian at the +Imperial Opera House, while the other artists sang in German. A letter +from my mother to my father at that time discloses a light upon her +point of view. + +"Louise telegraphed for Eliza and her costumes. I thought at first she +was crazy, but it appears she was sane after all. A fine Vienna +engagement...." + +It was an undertaking to travel in Germany in those days. The German +railway officials spoke nothing but German and, furthermore, they are +never adaptable and quick like the Italians. In France or Italy they +understood you whether you spoke their language or not; but a Teuton has +to have everything translated into his own untranslatable tongue. When +my mother had finally gathered together my costumes, she wrote out a +long document that she had translated into German, concerning all that +Eliza was to do, and where she was to go, and gave it to her so that +she could produce it along the way and be passed on to the next official +without explanation or complication. And after this fashion Eliza and my +costumes reached me safely. She was a good traveller and a good maid. +She was also very popular in that part of the world. Negroes had no +particular stigma attached to them on the Continent. Many of them were +no darker of hue than the Hindu and Mohammedan royalties who journeyed +there occasionally. So, wherever we went, my good, dark-skinned Eliza +was a real belle. + +There was much to interest me in Vienna, not only as a foreign capital +of note, but also as a curiosity. In a long life, and after many and +diverse experiences, I never had been in a city so entirely bound up in +its own interests and traditions. The luckless sinner battering vainly +upon the gates of Heaven has a better fighting chance, all told, than +has the ambitious outsider who aspires to social recognition by the +Viennese aristocracy. If an American is ever heard to say that he or she +has been received by Viennese society, those hearing the speech may +laugh in their sleeve and wonder what society it was. The thing cannot +be done. A handle to one's name, an estate, all the little earmarks of +"nobility" are not only required but insisted on. I believe it to be a +safe statement to make that no one without a title, and a title +recognised by the Austrians as one of distinction, can be received into +the inner circle. Even diplomatic representatives of republics are not +exempt from this ruling. They may have the wealth of the Indies, and +their wives may possess the beauty of Helen herself, and yet they are +not admitted. For this reason Austria is a most difficult post for +republican legations. Republican representatives do not stay there +long. Usually, the report is that they are recalled for diplomatic +reasons, or their health has failed, or some other pride-saving excuse +to satisfy a democratic populace. Vienna was, and I suppose is, the +dullest Court in the whole world. The German Court at one time had the +distinction of being the dullest, but that has looked up a bit during +the reign of the present Kaiser. But Austria! The society of Vienna has +absolutely no interest in anything or anybody outside its own sacred +Inner Circle. + +On one occasion I was guilty of a great breach of etiquette. Meyerbeer's +son-in-law, a Baron of good lineage, was calling on me, and a +correspondent from _The London Daily Telegraph_, whom I had met socially +and not professionally, happened to be present. Although I knew from my +foreign experiences that possibly it was hardly the correct thing to do, +I, not unnaturally, presented them to each other. To my surprise the +Baron became stiff and the young Englishman somewhat ill at ease. I must +say, however, the Englishman carried it off better than the Baron did. +When the Austrian had departed, my newspaper acquaintance told me that I +had committed a social _faux pas_ in making them known to each other. +Introductions are absolutely _taboo_ between titled persons and +"commoners," as they are sternly called. A baron could not meet a +newspaper man! + +As a case in point, an Englishman of very distinguished connections +arrived in Vienna at the time of one of the Court balls. He applied at +his Embassy for an invitation, but was told that such a thing would be +quite impossible. Viennese etiquette was too rigid, etc. Therefore, he +did not go to the ball. But it so chanced that, a little later, when he +went to call on the British Ambassador, he mentioned, casually enough, +that he had a courtesy title but never used it when travelling. + +"Why didn't you say so?" exclaimed the Ambassador. "I could have got you +an invitation quite easily, if you had only explained that!" + +Even the opera was very official and imperial. The Court Theatre was a +government house, and the manager of it an _Intendant_ and a rather +grand person. In my time he was Baron Hoffman; and he and the Baroness +asked me often to their home and placed boxes at the opera at my +disposal, this last courtesy being one that the regular artists at the +opera are never permitted to receive. The Imperial Opera House of Vienna +is perhaps the most complete operatic organisation in existence and +especially, at that time, was the company rich in fine _prime donne_. +Mme. Materna was considered to be the greatest dramatic singer then +living. Mlle. Bianchi was a marvellous _chanteuse légère_, the equal of +Gerster. Mme. Ehn was the most poetical of _prime donne_ and not unlike +Nilsson. Of Lucca's fame it is needless to speak again. + +I sang seven _rôles_ in Vienna: _Lucia_, the _Ballo in Maschera_, +_Mignon_, _Traviata_, _Trovatore_, _Marta_, and one act of +_Hamlet_,--the mad scene, of course. It was during _Marta_ that I had +paid to me one of the most satisfying compliments of my life. Dr. +Hanslick was then the greatest musical critic of Europe, a distinguished +and highly cultivated musical scholar, even if he did war against Wagner +and the new school. To the astonishment of the whole theatre, between +the acts, he wandered in by himself behind the scenes to call upon me +and offer his congratulations. Only one other singer had ever been thus +honoured by him before. He was graciousness itself and, in his paper, +the _Neue Frei Presse_, he wrote these memorable words: + +"Miss Kellogg is an artist of the first order--the only one to compare +with Patti. It is the first time since Patti has gone that we have heard +what one can call singing! I congratulate Vienna on having heard such a +colossal artist!" + +Later, I was asked to the Hoffmans' again to meet Herr Hanslick and his +wife; and they were only two of the many distinguished and interesting +people that I met at the _Intendant's_ house. Sonnenthal was one of +them, the great actor from the Hoftheatre. And Fanny Elssler was +another. I wonder how many people to-day know even the name of Fanny +Elssler, the dancer who captivated the young King of Rome and lived with +him for so long? There is mention of her in _L'Aiglon_. When I met her +she was seventy odd, and very quiet and dull. She was vastly respected +in Austria and held an exceedingly dignified position. + +I learned enough German to be able to sing in German for the _Intendant_ +and his friends, with I know not what sort of accent. They were very +polite about it always, saying more than once to me, "what a gentle +accent!" But my German was dealt with less kindly by my audience one +night. The spoken dialogue in _Mignon_ simply had to be made +comprehensible and therefore I had mastered it, as I thought, quite +acceptably enough. But somewhere in it I came what our English friends +call a most awful "cropper." I do not know to this day what dreadful +thing I could have said, but it afforded the house an ecstasy of +amusement. The whole audience laughed loudly and heartily and long; and +I confess I was considerably disconcerted. But, all things considered, +the Viennese audiences were satisfactory to sing to. They have one +little custom, or mannerism, that is decidedly encouraging. When they +like anything very much, they do not break the action by applauding, +but, instead, a little soft "Ah!" goes all over the house. It was an +indescribably comforting sound and spurred a singer on to do her best to +please them. I sang Felina in _Mignon_, and the Viennese, to my eternal +gratitude, liked me in the part. I remembered Jarrett and the "wooden +gestures" he had fixed upon me in the _rôle_, and it was most +satisfactory to have people in the Austrian Capitol declare that I was +"an exquisite creation after Watteau!" Of course the Germans and +Austrians were so wedded to Materna's rather heroic style of singing +that I suppose any less strenuous methods might well have struck them as +unforceful, but--_à propos_ of Materna and the inevitable comparison of +my work with hers--the _Fremden Blatt_ was kind enough to print: + +"The grand voice, the powerful high tones, and the stupendously +passionate accents were not heard. Yet she knows how to sing with a +full, strong voice, with high tones, and with a graceful +passionateness!" + +That expression "graceful passionateness" has remained in my vocabulary +ever since, for it is a triumph of clumsy phraseology, even for a German +paper. + +I want to quote Dr. Hanslick once more;--it is such a lovely and amazing +thing to quote: + +"From her lips," said this illustrious critic, speaking of your humble +servant, "we have heard Verdi's hardest and harshest melodies come forth +refined and softened." + +Is this believable? Edward Hanslick did really apply the adjectives +"hard" and "harsh" to Verdi's music! It has to be read to be believed, +but what he said is on file. + +Speaking of "gentle accent," I had, on one occasion, the full beauty of +the Teutonic language borne in upon me in a peculiarly striking form. It +was in _Robert der Teufel_, that I heard in Vienna. The instance that +struck me was in the great scene during which he practises magic in the +cave and makes the dead to rise so that they can dance a _ballet_ later +on. Alice is wandering around, and the devil is in a great state of mind +lest she has seen or overheard something of his magic. + +"_Was hast du gesehen?_" says he. + +"_Nichts!_" she replies. + +"_Nichts?_" he repeats. + +"_Nichts_," insists she. + +That "_Nichts!_" was repeated over and over until the whole theatre +echoed and resounded with "nichts-ts-ts-ts!" like spitting cats. There +never was anything less musical. + +"Heavens, Alfred," said I to Fischoff, who was with me at the time, +"can't they change it to '_Nein?_'" + +But he regarded me in a shocked manner at the very idea of so +sacrilegiously altering the text! + +German scores are full of loud ringing passages, built on guttural, +hissing, spitting consonants. But, then, we must remember that +librettists the world over are apparently men of an inferior quality of +intellect who know little about music or singing. I cannot help feeling +that by nature and cultivation the German writers of the texts for opera +suffer from an additional handicap of traditional density. Even one of +the greatest of all operas, _Faust_, suffers from being built upon a +German theme. At least, I should perhaps say, it suffers in sparkle, +vivacity, dramatic glitter. In the deeper, poetic meanings it remains +impervious alike to time, place, and individual view-point. I never +fully appreciated the _rôle_ of Marguerite until I met the German people +at close range. Then I learned by personal observation why she was so +dull, and limited, and unimaginative. Such traits are, as I suddenly +realised, not only individual; they are racial. Any middle-class girl of +sixteen might of course have been deceived by Faust with the aid of +Mephisto, but that Gretchen was German made the whole thing a hundred +times simpler. + + + + +CHAPTER XXXI + +PETERSBURG + + +When I received my engagement to sing at the Opera in Petersburg I was +much pleased. The opera seasons in Russia had for years been notably +fine. Since then they have, I understand, gone off, and fewer and fewer +stars of the first magnitude go there to sing. In 1880, however, it was +a criterion of artistic excellence and position to have sung in the +Petersburg Opera. My mother and I, a manager to represent me, my +coloured maid Eliza, and some seventeen or eighteen trunks set out from +Vienna; and we looked forward with pleasurable anticipation to our +winter in the mysterious White Kingdom, not knowing then that it was to +be one of the dreariest in our lives. + +Our troubles began just before we reached Warsaw, when we had to cross +the frontier. We were, of course, stopped for the examination of +passports and luggage and, although the former were all right, the +latter was not, according to the views of the Russian officials. I had, +personally, fifteen trunks, containing the costumes for my entire +_repertoire_ and to watch those Russians inspect these trunks was a +veritable study in suspicion. It was late at night. Unpleasant +travelling incidents always happen late at night it would seem, when +everything is most inconvenient and one is most tired. The Russians +appeared ten times more official than the officials of any other nation +ever did, and the lateness of the hour added to this impression. Indeed +they were highly picturesque, with their high boots and the long skirts +of their coats. The lanterns threw queer shadows, and the wind that +swept the platform had in it already the chill of the _steppes_. I have +no idea what they believed me to be smuggling, bombs or anarchistic +literature, but they were not satisfied until they had gone through +every trunk to its uttermost depths. Even then, when they had found +nothing more dangerous than wigs and cloaks and laces, they still seemed +doubtful. The trunks might look all right; but surely there must be +something wrong with a woman who travelled with fifteen personal trunks! +And I do not know that I altogether blame them. At all events they were +not going to let me cross the frontier without further investigation, +and I was rapidly falling into despair when, suddenly, I had a brilliant +thought. I gave an order to my maid, who proceeded to scatter about the +entire contents of one trunk and finally found for me a large, thin, +official-looking document, with seals and signatures attached to it. The +Russians stood about, watchful and mystified. Then I presented my +talisman triumphantly. + +"The Czar!" they exclaimed in awed whispers; "the Czar's signature!" + +Whereupon several of them began bowing, almost genuflecting, to show +their respect for anyone who possessed a paper signed by the Czar. It +was only my contract. The singers at the Russian Opera are not engaged +by an impresario, but by the Czar, and that document which served us so +well on this occasion was a personal contract with His Imperial Majesty +himself. + +So we succeeded in eventually crossing the frontier and getting into +Russia, and, after that, the _espionage_ became a regular thing. The spy +system in Russia is beyond belief. One is watched and tracked and +followed and records are kept of one, and a species of censorship is +maintained of everything that reaches one. At first, one hardly realises +this, for the officials have had so much practice that it is done with +the most consummate skill. Every letter was opened before it reached me +and then sealed up again so cleverly that it was impossible to detect it +except with the keenest and most suspicious eye. Every newspaper that I +received, even those mailed to me by friends in England and France, had +been gone over carefully, and every paragraph referring to Russia--the +army, the government, the diplomacy policy, the Nihilistic +agitations--had been stamped out in solid black. + +We stopped at the Hotel d'Europe, and one might think one would be free +from surveillance there. Not a bit of it. We soon saw that if we wanted +to talk with any freedom or privacy we should have to hang thick towels +over the keyholes. And this is precisely what we did! + +As soon as we reached Petersburg, I was called for a rehearsal--merely a +piano affair. I went to it garmented in a long fur cloak, some +flannel-lined boots that I had once bought in America for a Canadian +trip, and a little bonnet perched, in the awful fashion of the day, on +the very top of my head. It was early in October at this time and not +any colder than our normal winter climate in the United States of +America. There is but little vibration of temperature in Russia, but +there are days before November when the snow melts that are very trying. +This was one of them. The first thing that happened to me at that +rehearsal to which I went in my flannel-lined shoes and my little +bonnet, was that a stern doctor confronted me and called me to account +for the manner in which I was dressed! A doctor at a rehearsal was new +to me; but it seemed that the thoughtful Czar employed two for this +purpose. So many singers pretended to be ill when they really were not +that His Majesty kept medical men on the spot to prove or disprove any +excuses. The doctor who descended upon me was named Thomaschewski. He +was the doctor mentioned in Marie Bashkirtseff's _Journal_; and he +remained my friend and physician all the time I was in the city. Said +he, brusquely, on this first meeting: + +"Never come out dressed like that again! Get some goloshes immediately, +and a hat that comes over your forehead!" + +I did not understand at the moment why he insisted so strongly on the +hat. I soon learned, however, what so few Americans are aware of, that +it is through the forehead that one generally catches cold. As for the +goloshes, it was self-evident that I needed them, and, after that +morning, I never set foot out of doors in Russia without the regular +protection worn by everyone in that climate. A big fur cap, tied on with +a white woollen scarf arranged as we now arrange motor veils, completed +the necessary outfit. + +Marcella Sembrich and Lillian Nordica were both in the opera company +that year. Sembrich had a small, high, clear voice at that time; but she +was always the musician and well up in the Italian vocal tricks. Scalchi +was there, too, and Cotogni, the famous baritone. He was a masterful +singer and an amusing man, with a quaint way of putting things. He is +still living in Rome and has, I am sorry to say, fallen from his great +estate upon hard times. The tenors were Masini and a Russian named +Petrovitch, with whom I sang the _Ballo in Maschera_. They were all very +frankly curious about "the American _prima donna_" and about everything +concerning her. The _Intendant_ of the Imperial Opera was a man with the +title of Baron Küster, the son of one of the Czar's gardeners. No one +could understand why he had been made a Baron, but, for some reason, he +was in high favour. + +My _début_ was in _Traviata_, as Violetta. There was an enormous +audience and the American Minister was in a stage box. Throughout the +performance I never lost a sense of isolation and of chill. The +strangeness, the watchfulness, the sense of apprehension with which the +air seemed charged, were all on my nerves. It was said that the +Opera-House had been undermined by the Nihilists and was ready to +explode if the Czar entered. This idea was hardly conducive to ease of +mind or cheerfulness of manner. I was glad that it was not sufficiently +a gala occasion for the Czar to be present. Never before had I ever sung +without having friends in front, friends who could come behind the +scenes between the acts and tell me how I was doing and, if need be, +cheer me up a bit. I knew nobody in the audience that first night, which +gave me a most forlorn feeling, as if the place were filled with +unfriendliness as well as with strangers. At last I thought of the +American Minister, Mr. Foster (our legation in Russia had not yet +attained the dignity of an embassy). I sent my agent to the Fosters' +box, asking them to call upon me in my _loge_ at the end of the opera. +When he delivered the message, he was met by blank astonishment. + +"Of course we should be delighted--and it is very kind of Miss +Kellogg," said Mr. Foster, "but there is not a chance that we should be +allowed to do so!" + +And they were not. + +The vigilance, even on the stage, was something appalling. Every scene +shifter and stage carpenter had a big brass number fastened +conspicuously on his arm, strapped on, in fact, over his flannel shirt +so that he could be easily checked off and kept track of. Everything in +Russia is numbered. There are no individuals there--only units. I used +to feel as if I must have a number myself; as if I, too, must soon be +absorbed into that grim Monster System, and my feeling of helplessness +and oppression steadily increased. + +I had over twenty curtain calls that evening--the largest number I ever +had. But they did not entirely repay me for the heaviness of heart from +which I suffered. Never before or since was I so unhappy during a +performance. The house had been undoubtedly cold at first. As an +American correspondent to one of the newspapers wrote home: "The house +had small confidence in an operatic singer from America, for all history +of that country is silent on the subject of _prime donne_, while there +is no lack of account of such other persons as Indians, Aztecs, and +emigrants from the lower orders of Europe!" + +In Russia they still reserve the right of hissing a singer that they do +not like. It is lucky that I did not know this then, for it would have +made me even more nervous than I was. My curtain calls were a real +triumph. Even the ladies of the audience arose and waved their +handkerchiefs, calling out many times: "Kellogg, _sola_!" They wanted me +to receive the honours alone; and the gentlemen joined in their calls, +"Kellogg! Kellogg! Kellogg!" until they were hoarse. + +The subscribers to the opera were divided into three classes in +Petersburg; and, as a singer who was popular was demanded by all the +subscribers for each of the three nights, it was a novel sensation to +conquer an entirely new audience each night. + +In the Opera-House, as in every other house in Petersburg, one had to go +through innumerable doors, one after the other. This architectural +peculiarity is what makes the buildings so warm. Russians build for the +cold weather as Italians build for warm. The result is that one can be +colder in an Italian house than anywhere else on earth, and more +correspondingly comfortable in a Russian. Even the Petersburg public +Post-Office had to be approached through eight separate doorways. There +were a number of other unusual features about that theatre. One was the +custom of permitting the _isvoshiks_ (drivers) and _mujiks_ (servants) +to come inside to stay while the opera was going on. It struck me as +most inconsistent with the general strictness and red tape; but it was +entertaining to see them stowed away in layers on ledges along the +walls, sleeping peacefully until the people who had engaged them were +ready to go home. Another odd thing was the odour that permeated the +house. It was not an unpleasant odour; it seemed to me a little like +Russia leather. I could not imagine what it was at first. Afterwards I +found that it _did_ come from the sheep-skins worn by the _isvoshiks_. +The skins are cured in some peculiar way which leaves them with this +faint smell. + +The thing I particularly appreciated that first night was the honour and +good fortune of making my _début_ with Masini, who, according to my +opinion, was without exception the best tenor of his time. He would +have pleased the most exacting of modern critics, for he was the true +_bel canto_. It is told of him that, in the early years of his career, +he sang so badly out of tune that no impresario would bother with him. +So he retired, and worked, until he had not only overcome it but had +also made himself into a very great artist. The night before I sang with +him, I went to hear him. At first I thought his voice a trifle husky, +but, before the evening was over, I did not know if it were husky or +not, he sang so beautifully, his method was so perfect, his +breath-control was so wonderful. It was a naturally enchanting voice +besides. I have never heard a length of breath like his. No phrase ever +troubled him; he had the necessary wind for anything. In _L'Africaine_ +there is a passage in the big tenor solo needing very careful breathing. +Masini did simply what he liked with it, swelling it out roundly and +generously when it seemed as if his breath must be exhausted. When the +breath of other tenors gave out, Masini only just began to draw on his. +I am placing all this emphasis on his method because I know breathing to +be the whole secret of singing--and of living, too! Masini was a grave, +kind man, not a great actor, but with a stage presence of complete +repose and dignity. His manner to me was charmingly thoughtful and +considerate during our work together. Yet he was a man who never spoke. +I mean this literally: I cannot recall the sound of his speaking voice, +although I rehearsed with him for a whole season. His greatest _rôle_ +was the Duke in _Rigoletto_ and there was no one I ever heard who could +compare with him in it. + +Nordica was a young singer doing minor _rôles_ that season and, both +being Americans, we saw a good deal of each other and exchanged +sympathies, for we equally disliked Russia. Our Yankee independence was +being constantly outraged by the Russian spy system, and we were always +at odds with it. One night, when we were not singing ourselves, we had a +box together to hear our fellow-artists, and invited Sir Frederick +Hamilton to share it with us. As we knew there was sure to be a crowd +after the opera, Nordica suggested that we should leave our wraps in an +empty dressing-room behind the scenes and go out by that way when the +performance was over. This we accordingly did, going behind through the +house by the back door of the boxes, and as a matter of course we took +Sir Frederick with us. We had momentarily forgotten that in Russia one +never does what one wants to, or what seems the natural thing to do. +When we were discovered bringing an Englishman behind the scenes, there +was nearly a revolution in that theatre! + +I sang in _Traviata_ four or five times in Petersburg and in _Don +Giovanni_ and in _Semiramide_. This last was the forty-fifth _rôle_ of +my _répertoire_. The Russian Opera season was less brilliant than usual +that year because the Czarina had recently died and the Court was in +mourning. The situation was one that afforded me some amusement. The +Czar, Alexander, who was killed that same winter, had for a long time +lived with the Princess Dolgoruki, as is well known, and, when the +Czarina died, he married the Dolgoruki within a few weeks. To be sure, +the marriage did not really count, for she could never be a Czarina +because she was not royal, but she was determined to establish her +social position as his wife and insisted on keeping him in the country +with her at one of the out-of-the-way places. And all the time the Czar +went right on with his official mourning for the Czarina! There was +something about this that strongly appealed to my American sense of +humour. When the Czar did finally leave the country palace and come back +to Petersburg, he was in such fear of the Nihilists that he did not dare +come in state, but got off the train at a way-station and drove in. +Fancy the Czar of all the Russias having to sneak into his own city like +that! And the worst of it was that all that vigilance was proved soon +after to have been justified. Because of the situation of affairs, the +Royal Box at the Opera was never occupied. Even the Czarevitch and his +wife (Dagmar of Denmark, sister of Alexandra of England) could not +appear. I am inclined to believe that, on the whole, Petersburg society +was rather glad of the dull season. As there were no Court functions, +the individual social leaders did not have to keep up their end either, +and it must have been a relief, for times were hard, owing to the recent +Nihilistic panic, and Russians do not know how to entertain unless they +can do it magnificently. As a result of the dull social season, I did +not go out much in society. But I was much interested in such glimpses +as I had of it, for "smart" Russia is most gorgeously picturesque. Many +Americans visit Petersburg in summer when everyone is away and so never +see the true Russian life. Indeed, it is a very stunning spectacle. The +sleighs, the splendid liveries, the beautiful horses, the harnesses, the +superb furs--it is all like a pageant. I loved to see the _troikas_ +drawn by three horses, with great gold ornaments on the harnesses; and +the _drozhkis_ in which the _isvoshiks_ drive standing up. The third +horse of the _troika_ is one of the typically Russian features. He is +attached to the pair that does the work, and his part is to play the +fool. + +I remember a famous sleigh ride I had in a very smart _drozhki_, behind +a horse belonging to one of the English Embassy secretaries. The horse +was an extraordinarily fast one and the _drozhki_ was exceptionally +light and small. The seat was so narrow that the secretary and I had to +be literally buttoned into it to keep us from falling out. The +_isvoshik's_ seat was so high that he was practically standing erect and +nearly leaning back against it. Evidently the man's directions were to +show off the horse's gait to the best advantage; and I know that the +speed of that frail sleigh upon the icy snow crust became so terrific +that I had to grip the sash of the _isvoshik_ in front of me to stay in +the sleigh at all. + +And, oh, the flatness and mournfulness of those chill wastes of snow +outside the city! It was of course bitterly cold, but one did not feel +that so much on account of the fine dryness of the air. For me the +light--or, rather, the lack of it,--was the most difficult thing to +become accustomed to. But if I did not altogether realise the cold for +myself, I certainly realised it for my poor horses. I had a splendid +pair of blacks that winter and, when I was driven down to the theatre, +they would be lathered with sweat. When I came out they would be covered +with ice and as white as snow. There would be ice on the harness too, +and the other horses we passed were in the same condition. I was much +distressed at first, but it appeared that Russian horses were quite used +to it and, so I was told, actually throve on it. + +Petersburg is full of little squares and in every square were heaps of +logs, laid one across another like a funeral pyre, which were frequently +lighted as a place for the _isvoshiks_ to warm themselves. The leaping +flames and the men crowded about, in such contrast to the white snow, +seemed so startling and theatrical in the heart of the city that nothing +could have more sharply reminded us that we were in a strange and +unknown land. + +The fact that the days were so unbelievably, gloomily short (dawn and +bright noonday and the afternoon were unknown) grew to be very +depressing. Coasting on the great ice-hills is a favourite Russian +amusement, and it is a fine winter sport. But that, too, is shadowed by +the strange half-light, which, to anyone accustomed to the long, bright +days of more temperate lands, is always conducive to melancholy. There +was no sun to speak of. Such as there was moved around in almost one +place and stopped shining at four in the afternoon. I never had the +least idea of the time; hardly knowing, in fact, whether it was day or +night. + + + + +CHAPTER XXXII + +GOOD-BYE TO RUSSIA--AND THEN? + + +Prince Oldenburg, the Czar's cousin, was the only member of the Royal +Family who could be called a patron of music and had himself composed +more or less. On his seventy-fifth birthday the Imperial Opera organised +a concert in his honour, that took place at the Winter Palace; and we +were really quite _intriguée_, having heard of the Winter Palace for +years. I said to Nordica: + +"If you'll find out how we get there, I'll send my carriage for you and +we will go together." + +She found out, and we arranged to have the hotel people instruct the +coachman as to the particular entrance of the palace to which he was to +drive us, for he was a Russian and did not understand any other +language. Once started, he had to go according to instructions or else +turn around and take me back to the hotel for new directions and a fresh +start. More than once have I found myself in such a dilemma. However, on +this occasion, he seemed to be fairly clear as to our destination and +showed gleams of intelligence when reminded that he must make no +mistake, since there were only certain doors by which we could enter. +The others were open only to the Royal Family and the nobility. + +Among the five _prime donne_ who had been invited, or, rather, +commanded, to appear at this function, there had been some discussion as +to our costumes. All of them except myself sent for special gowns, one +to Paris, one to Vienna, one to Berlin, one to Dresden--for this concert +was to be before members of the Imperial Family and extra preparations +had to be made. + +"What are you going to wear?" Nordica asked me. + +"Well," said I, "I'll never be in Russia again--God permitting--and I +shall wear a gown that I have, a creation of Worth's, made some years +ago, without period or date." It was really a gorgeous affair and quite +good enough, of an odd, warm, rust colour that was always very becoming +to me. + +We arrived at the palace before anyone else and were driven to the door +indicated. There we were not permitted to enter, but were directed to +yet another entrance. Again we met with the same refusal and were sent +on to another door. At last we drove in under a porte-cochère and an +endless stream of lackeys came out and took charge of us. When they had +escorted us inside, one took one golosh, and one took another, and then +they took off our furs and wraps, and there was no escape for us except +by mounting the beautiful red-carpeted marble staircase. At the top of +it we were met by two very good-looking young men in uniform, who +received us cordially and escorted us to the ballroom, leaving us only +when the other artists arrived. The other artists looked cross, I +thought. At any rate, they looked somewhat ill at ease and conscious of +their elegant new clothes. It was the crackling, ample period, in which +it was difficult to be graceful. About the middle of the evening Dr. +Thomaschewski came up to me and said: + +"The Grand Duchess Olga desires me to ask who made Mlle. Kellogg's gown. +She finds it the handsomest she ever saw!" + +So much for my old clothes! I was thankful to be able to say the gown +was a creation of Worth's; and I did not add how many years before! The +next day, after the affair of the concert was pleasantly over, Nordica +came into my room like a whirlwind. + +"There's the d---- to pay down in the theatre!" she exclaimed +breathlessly. "All the other _prime donne_ are threatening to resign! +And, apparently, it is our fault!" + +"What have we done?" + +"It seems," she went on with an appreciative chuckle, "that we came up +the Royal Staircase and were received as members of the Imperial Family, +while they had to come in the back way as befitted poor dogs of +artists!" + +"Nordica," said I, "isn't that just plain American luck! Such a thing +could never happen to anybody but an American!" + +We learned in due course that our handsome young men, who had been so +agreeable and courteous, were Grand Dukes! But the other _prime donne_ +recovered from their mortification and thought better of their project +of resigning. + +We began to be frightfully tired of Russian food. The Russian +arrangement for cold storage was very primitive. They merely froze solid +anything they wanted to keep and unfroze it when it was needed for use. +The staple for every day, and all day, was _gelinotte_, some sort of +game. We lived on it until we were ready to starve rather than ever +taste it again. It was not so bad, really, in its way, if there had not +been so much of it. Some of the Russian food was possible enough, +however. The famous sour milk soup, for instance, made of curdled milk +and cabbage and, I think, a little fish, was rather nice; and they had a +pretty way of serving _bouchers_ between the soup and fish courses. But +my mother and I began to feel that we should die if we did not have some +plain American food. In fact, we both developed a vulgar craving for +corned-beef. And, wonder of wonders! by inquiring at a little shop where +garden tools were sold, we found the thing we longed for. As it turned +out, the shop was kept by an American and his wife; so we got our +corned-beef and my mother made delicious hash of it over our alcohol +lamp. She was famous for getting up all manner of dainty and delicious +food with a minute saucepan and a tiny spirit flame. + +The water everywhere was horrid and we were obliged to boil it always +before we dared to take a swallow. And all these things told on my poor +mother, whose health was becoming very wretched. She came to hate Russia +and pined to get away. So I tried to break my contract and leave +(considering my mother's health a sufficiently valid reason), but, +although money was due me that I was willing to forfeit, I found I could +not go until I had sung out the full term of my engagement. I was so +wrathful at this that I went to see the American Minister about leaving +in spite of everything; but even he was powerless to help us. Apparently +the Russians were accustomed to having their country prove too much for +foreign singers, for the Minister remarked meditatively: + +"Finland used to be open, but so many artists escaped that way that it +is now closed!" + +It proved to be even harder to get out of Russia than it had been to get +in. One mother and daughter whom I knew went to five hotels in +twenty-four hours, trying to evade the officials, so as to leave without +the usual red tape; but they were kept merciless track of everywhere and +their passports sent for at every one of the five. Such proceedings must +be rather expensive for the government. Some Russian friends of mine +once came to Aix without notifying their governmental powers and were +sent for to come back within twenty-four hours. Fancy being kept track +of like that! I am devoutly thankful that I do not live under a +_paternal_ government. In time, however, we did succeed in obtaining +permission to leave Russia; and profoundly glad were we of it. I had but +one desire before we left that dark and frigid land forever, and that +was to see the Czar just once. My friends of the English Embassy told me +that my best chance would be on the route between the Winter Palace and +the Military Riding Academy, where the Czar went every Sunday to +stimulate horsemanship. So I started out the following Sunday, alone, in +my brougham. + +There were crowds of the faithful blocking the way everywhere--well +interspersed with Nihilists, I have little doubt. Russian men are, on +the whole, impressive in appearance; big and fierce and immensely +virile. They are half-savage, anyway. The better class wear coats lined +and trimmed with black or silver fur; while a crowd of soldiers and +peasants make a most picturesque sight. On this occasion the cavalry and +mounted police patrolled the route, and ranks of soldiers were drawn up +on either side. Yet there was such a surging populace that, in spite of +all the military surveillance, there was some confusion. I was driven up +and down very slowly. Then I grew cold and got out of the carriage to +walk for a short distance. I had gone but a little way and was turning +back when I felt a hand on my shoulder. It was an official who informed +me that I might drive but could not be permitted to walk! So I +re-entered the brougham and was driven again, up and down, bowing +sweetly each time to the officer who had halted me and dared to take me +by the shoulder. And, finally, I caught only a glimpse of the Czar, +through the hosts of guardians that surrounded him like a cloud. I could +not believe that he cared for all that pomp and ceremony, for he was a +weary-looking man and I felt sorry for him. I believe that he would have +been as democratic as anyone could well be if he could only have had +half a chance. The wife of the shop-keeper who sold garden tools told me +that the Czar was perfectly accessible to them and very friendly. He +liked new inventions and patents and ingenious farming implements and +American machine inventions. A man I once knew had been trying for +months to obtain an official introduction at Court in order to exploit a +patent which he thought would interest His Majesty, and in vain. But, +when he chanced to meet a friend of the Czar's in a picture gallery and +told him about his idea, he had no further difficulty. His Minister, who +had told him it was hopeless to try to get access to the Czar, was +amazed to find him going about at the Court balls in the most intimate +manner. + +"How did you do it?" he demanded. "How did you manage to reach the +Czar?" + +"Just met him through a friend as I would any other fellow," was the +reply. + +We were in Petersburg at the Christmas and New Year's celebrations, +which are held two weeks later than ours are. The customs were odd and +interesting--notably the one of driving out in a sleigh to "meet the +New Year coming in." This pretty custom was always observed by Mme. +Helena Modjeska and her husband, Count Bozenta, even in America. I went +to services in several of the churches, where I heard divine singing, +unaccompanied by any instrument. The vibrations were very slow and +throbbed like the tones of an organ. Nothing can be more splendid than +bass voices. The decorations of the churches were strange and barbaric +to eyes accustomed to the Italian and French cathedrals. The savagery as +well as the orientalism of the Russians comes out in a curious way in +their ecclesiastical architecture. The walls were often inlaid with +lapis and malachite, like the decorations of some Eastern temple, and +the _ikons_ were painted gaudily upon metals. There were no pews of any +sort; the populace dropped upon its knees and stayed there. + +The little wayside shrines erected over every spot where anything tragic +had ever happened to a royal person are an interesting feature of +worship in Russia. As the rulers of Russia have usually passed rather +calamitous lives, there are plenty of these shrines, and loyal subjects +always kneel and make them reverence. I could see one of these shrines +from my window in the Hotel d'Europe and marvelled at the devout fervour +of the kneeling men in their picturesque cloaks, praying for this or +some other Emperor, with the thermometer far below zero. It was always +the men who prayed. I do not remember ever seeing a woman on her knees +in the snow. + +Our experiences in the shops of Petersburg were sometimes interesting. +Of course in the larger ones French was spoken, and also German, but in +the small places where "notions" were sold, or writing materials, only +Russian was understood. To facilitate the shopping of foreigners, +little pictures of every conceivable thing for sale were hung outside +the shops. All one had to do was to point to the reproduction of a +spool, or a safety pin, or an egg, or a trunk, and produce a pocketbook. +One day my mother wanted some shoe buttons and we wagered that she could +not buy them unaided. I felt sure there would be no painting of a shoe +button on the shop wall. But she came back victoriously with the +buttons, quite proud of herself because she had thought of pointing to +her own boots instead of wasting time hunting among the pictures. + +It was the collection of Colonel Villiers that first awakened in me an +interest in old silver, and the beginning I made in Russia that winter +ended in my possessing a collection of value and beauty. Villiers was a +member of the Duke of Buckingham's family and was a Queen's Messenger, a +position of responsibility and trust. And I had several other friends at +the British Embassy. Lord and Lady Dufferin I knew; and one of the +secretaries, Mr. Alan, now Sir Alan Johnston, who married Miss +Antoinette Pinchot, sister of Gifford Pinchot, I had first met in +Vienna. The night that Villiers arrived in Petersburg (before I had met +him) some of the English _attachés_ had been invited to dine with us; +but the First Secretary arrived at the last moment to explain that the +Queen's Messenger was expected with private letters and that they had to +be received in person and handed in at Court promptly. + +"It's the only way they have of sending really private letters, you +see," he explained. "Alexandra probably wants to tell Dagmar about the +children's last attacks of indigestion, so we have to stay at home to +receive the letters!" + +Well--the glad day did finally come when my mother and I turned our +backs on Russia and its eternal twilight and repaired to Nice for a +little amusement and recuperation after the Petersburg season. A number +of our friends were there, and it was unusually gay. I was warmly +welcomed and congratulated, for Petersburg had put the final _cachet_ +upon my success. Although I might win other honours, I could win none +that the world appraised more highly than those that had come to me that +year. In a letter to my father, from Nice, my mother says: + + The Grand Duke Nicholas has been here in our hotel a month, and his + two sons and suite, doctor, _Aide-de-camp_. and servants. There is + an inside balcony running two sides of the hotel which is lovely: + but the whole is square with other rooms--this width + carpeted--sofa--chairs--table--a glass roof. We all assemble there + after dinner, and sit around and talk, take _café_ and tea on + little tables.... We sat every day after dinner close to the Grand + Duke (the Czar's brother) and his suite; knew his doctor and + finally the Duke and his sons. I was sitting on the balcony, + because I could see everybody who came in or who went out, and I + was looking down and saw the Grand Duke receive the despatch of the + assassination--and the commotion and emotion was the most exciting + thing I ever witnessed. The Grand Duke is a most amiable gentleman, + sweet and good as a man can be; his son, sixteen, was the loveliest + and most gentle and affectionate of sons. I looked at the Duke all + the time. I was almost upset myself by the excitement. Despatches + came every twenty minutes. I looked on--sat there _seven hours_. As + the Russians outside heard of it they would come in--I saw two + women cry--the Duke stayed in his room--I heard that he had + fainted--he is in somewhat delicate health.... It seemed as if the + others were looking around for their friends and for sympathy, as + was natural. I had not talked much with the Doctor because I never + felt equal to it in French--especially on ordinary subjects of + conversation--but he looked up and saw me on the balcony and came + directly to me. I took both his hands--the tears came into his + eyes--and we _talked_--the words came to me, enough to show him we + were his friends. I said America would sympathise with Russia. He + seemed pleased and said, "Yes; but Angleterre, no!" I did not have + much to say to that. But I did him good. He told Louise and me the + particulars. We both knew the very spot near the bridge where the + Czar had fallen. Our sympathy was mostly with the man whose brother + had been murdered and his friends. There was a long book downstairs + in which people who came in wrote their names from time to time. I + do not understand it exactly, but Louise says it contains the names + of those who feel an allegiance. Many Russians came in the day of + the assassination and wrote their names. Our Consul wrote his, and + a beautiful sentence of sympathy. He wanted to lower our flag, but + dared not, quite. Louise and I went down and wrote ours--and, while + standing, the Duke's physician said to us that there had not been + one English name signed. The hotel is all English, nearly. It was + an interesting, eventful day. The Duke was pleased when Louise told + him his people had been very kind to her in Russia at Petersburg. + They all left day before yesterday at 6 P.M. + +The assassination of the Czar took place three weeks to the day from +that Sunday when I had seen him. It all came back to me very clearly, of +course--the troops, the crowding people, and the snow. No wonder they +were watchful of him, poor man! + +The bottom dropped out of the season at Nice and people began to flit +away. The tragedy of the Czar's death spread a shadow over everything. +Nobody felt much like merry-making or recreation, and, again, I was +becoming restless--restless in a new way. + +"Mother," I said, "let's go back to America. I have had enough of Nice +and Petersburg and Paris and Vienna and London. I'm tired to death of +foreign countries and foreign ways and foreign audiences and foreign +honours. I want to go home!" + +"Thank God!" said my mother. + + + + +CHAPTER XXXIII + +THE LAST YEARS OF MY PROFESSIONAL CAREER + + +At Villefranche, on our way to Nice, I had been given a formal reception +by the officers of the flagship _Trenton_, that was then lying in the +harbour. Admiral Dahlgren was in command, and the reception was more of +a tribute to the _prima donna_ than a personal tribute. It was arranged +under the auspices of Lieutenant Emory and Lieutenant Clover; and I did +not sing. Emory was a natural social leader and the whole affair was +perfect in detail. A much more interesting reception, however, arranged +by Lieutenant Emory, was the informal one given me by the same hosts not +long after. Although informal, it was conducted on the same lines of +elegance that marked every social function with which Emory was ever +connected. As soon as we appeared on the gun deck, accompanied by +Lieutenant-Commander Gridley, to be presented to Captain Ramsay, the +orchestra greeted us with the familiar strains of _Hail, Columbia!_ At +the end of the _déjeuner_ the whole crew contemplated us from afar as I +conversed with our hosts, and, realising what might be expected of me, I +sang, as soon as the orchestra had adjusted their instruments, the solo +of Violetta from _Traviata_: _Ah force e lui che l'anima_. As an +_encore_ I sang _Down on the Suwanee River_. The orchestra not being +able to accompany me, I accompanied myself on a banjo that happened to +be handy. I was told afterwards that "the one sweet, familiar plantation +melody was better to us than a dozen Italian cavatinas." After the +_Suwanee River_, I sang yet another negro melody, _The Yaller Gal +Dressed in Blue_, which was received with much appreciative laughter. + +On our way from Nice we went to Milan to visit the Exposition, which was +an artistically interesting one, and at which we happened to see the +father and mother of the present King of Italy. From Milan we went to +Aix-les-Bains; and from there to Paris. + +I returned to America without an engagement; but on October 5th the +Kellogg Concert Company, under the management of Messrs. Pond and +Bachert, gave the first concert of a series in Music Hall, Boston. I was +supported by Brignoli, the "silver-voiced tenor," Signer Tagliapietra, +and Miss Alta Pease, contralto. With us, also, were Timothie Adamowski, +the Polish violinist; Liebling, the pianist, and the Weber Quartette. My +reception in America, after nearly two years' absence abroad, was, +really, almost an ovation. But I want to say that Boston has always been +particularly gracious and cordial to me. By way of showing how +appreciative was my reception, I cannot resist giving an extract from +the _Boston Transcript_ of the following morning: + + Her singing of her opening number, Filina's _Polonaise_ in + _Mignon_, showed at once that she had brought back to us unimpaired + both her voice and her exquisite art; that she is now, as formerly, + the wonderfully finished singer with the absolutely beautiful and + true soprano voice. Her stage experience during the past few years, + singing taxing grand soprano parts, so different and more trying to + the vocal physique than the light florid parts, the Aminas, + Zerlinas, and Elviras, she began by singing, seems to have had no + injurious effect upon the quality and trueness of her voice, which + has ever been fine and delicate; just the sort of beautiful voice + which one would fear to expose to much intense dramatic wear and + tear. Its present perfect purity only proves how much may be dared + by a singer who can trust to a thoroughly good method. + +In the following May I sang with Max Strakosch's opera company in +Providence to an exceptionally large audience. One of the daily +newspapers of the city said, in reference to this occasion: + + Miss Kellogg must take it as a compliment to herself personally, + for the other artists were unknown here, and therefore it must have + been her name that attracted so many. She has always been popular + here, and has made many personal as well as professional friends. + She must have added many more of the latter last night, for she + never appeared to better advantage. She was well supported by + Signor Giannini as Faust [we gave _Faust_ and I was Marguerite] and + Signor Mancini as Mephistopheles. + +This same year, 1882, I went on a concert trip through the South. In New +Orleans I had a peep into the wonderful pawnshops, large, spacious, all +filled with beautiful things. I had long been a collector of pewter and +silver and old furniture and, on this trip, took advantage of some of my +opportunities. For instance, I bought the bureau that had belonged to +Barbara Frietchie, and a milk jug and some spoons that had belonged to +Henry Clay. Also, I visited Libby Prison and various other prisons, a +battle-field, and several cemeteries. One cemetery was half filled with +the graves of boys of seventeen, eighteen, and nineteen years of age, +showing that in the Civil War the South could not have kept it up much +longer. The sight was pitiful! + +In 1884 I went on a concert tour with Major Pond in the West, making of +it so far as we could, as Pond said, something of a picnic. We crossed +by the Northern Pacific, seeing, I remember, the ranch of the Duc de +Morney, son of the Duc de Morney who was one of Louis Philippe's +creations, and who had married the daughter of a wealthy ranchman, Baron +von Hoffman. The house of his ancestor in the Champs Élysées and the +house next door that he built for his mistress were points of interest +in Paris when I first went there. In Miles City, on the way to Helena, +Montana, we visited some of the gambling dens, and were interested in +learning that the wildest and worst one in the place was run by a +Harvard graduate. The streets of the town were strangely deserted and +this we did not understand until a woman said to me: + +"Umph! they don't show themselves when respectable people come along!" + +My memory of the trip and of the Yellowstone Park consists of a series +of strangely beautiful and primitive pictures. We passed through a +prairie fire, when the atmosphere was so hot and dense that extra +pressure of steam was put on our locomotive to rush our train through +it. Never before had I seen Indian women carrying their papooses. I +particularly recall one settlement of wigwams on a still, wonderful +evening, the chiefs gorgeous in their blankets, when the fires were +being lighted and the spirals of smoke were ascending straight up into +the clear atmosphere. One day a couple of Indians ran after the train. +They looked very fine as they ran and finally succeeded in getting on +to the rear platform, where they rode for some distance. At Deer Lodge I +sang all of one evening to two fine specimens of Indian manhood. We went +down the Columbia River in a boat, greatly enjoying the impressive +scenery. One of my most vivid mental impressions was that of an Indian +fisherman, standing high out over the rushing waters, at least forty +feet up, on a projection of some kind that had been built for the +purpose of salmon fishing, his graceful, vigorous bronze form clearly +silhouetted against the background of rock and foliage and sky. On the +banks of the river farther along we saw a circus troupe boiling their +supper in a huge caldron and smoking the _kalama_ or peace pipe. I was +so hungry I wanted to eat of the caldron's contents but, on second +thoughts, refrained. And we stopped at Astoria where the canning of +salmon was done, a town built out over the river on piles. The forest +fires had caused some confusion and, for one while, we could hardly +breathe because of the smoke. Indeed we travelled days and days through +that smoke. The first cowboy I ever saw drove me from the station of +Livingston through Yellowstone Park. In Butte City my company went down +into the Clarke Copper Mine, but I did not care to join them in the +undertaking. Our first sight of Puget Sound was very beautiful. And it +was at Puget Sound that I first saw half-, or, rather, quarter-breeds. I +remember Pond saying how quickly the half-breeds die of consumption. + +Later, that same year, I went South again on another concert tour. All +through the State of Mississippi there was a strange, horrible flavour +to the food, I recall, and, so all-pervading was this flavour that +finally I could hardly eat anything. The contralto and I were talking +about it one day on the train and saying how glad we should be to get +away from it. There being no parlour-cars, we were in an ordinary coach, +and a woman who sat in front of me and overheard us, turned around and +said: + +"_I_ know what you mean! _I_ can tell you what it is. It's cotton seed. +Everything tastes of cotton seed in this country. They feed their cows +on it, and their chickens. _Everything_ tastes of it; eggs, butter, +biscuits, milk!" + +This was true. The only thing, it seems, that could not be raised on +cotton seed was fruit; and unfortunately it was not a fruit season when +I was there. + +The recollection of this trip necessitates my saying a little something +of Southern hospitality. I was not satisfied with any of the +arrangements that had been made for me. I had also taken a severe cold, +and, when we reached Charlottesville, where we were to give a concert, I +said I would not go on. This brought matters to a climax. I simply would +not and could not sing in the condition I was; and declared I would not +be subjected to any such treatment at the insistence of the management. +The end of it was that I took my maid and started for New York. + +The trip at first promised to be a very uncomfortable one. Travelling +accommodations were poor; food was difficult to obtain, and I was nearly +ill. At one point, where the opening of a new bridge had just taken +place, we stopped, and I noticed a private car attached to our train, +which I coveted. Imagine my gratitude and pleasure, therefore, when the +porter presently came to me and said courteously that "Colonel Cawyter" +sent his compliments and invited me into his private car. I accepted, of +course. But this was not all. As I was making inquiries about train +connections and facilities for food, of one of the gentlemen in the +car, he realised what was before me, and said that I could go to his +home where his wife would care for me. I protested, but he insisted and +gave me his card. When we reached the station, I took a carriage and +drove to the house, where I was received very courteously. It was a +simple household of a mother, grandmother, and children, and they had +already lunched when I got there. But they piled on more coal, and in a +very short time made me a lunch that was simply delicious--all so +easily, simply, and naturally, in spite of the haphazard fashion in +which they seemed to live, as to quite win my admiration. And this +incident of Southern hospitality enabled me to proceed on my way +nourished and restored. + +Another incident that I recall was of a similar nature in its +fundamental kindness. I had no money with which to pay for my berth, and +was asking the conductor if there was anyone who would cash a check for +me, when a perfect stranger offered me the amount I needed. At first I +refused, but finally consented to accept the loan in the same spirit in +which it had been offered. + +On the reorganised version of this trip we went down into Texas, giving +concerts in Waco, Dallas, Cheyenne, San Antonio, and Galveston, among +other places. This was before the wonderful railroad had been built that +runs for miles through the water; and before the tidal wave that wiped +the old Galveston out of existence. At Cheyenne, I remember, we had to +ford a river to keep our engagement. At Waco a negro was found under the +bed of one of the company; a bridge was burning; and a _posse_ of men, +with bloodhounds, was starting out to track the incendiaries. I remember +speaking there with a negro woman who had a white child in her charge. +The child was busily chewing gum and the woman told me that often the +child would put her hand on her jaw saying, "Oh, I'm _so_ tired!" But +she could not be induced to stop chewing! At Dallas we sang in a hall +that had a tin roof, and, during the concert, a terrific thunderstorm +came on, so that I had to stop singing. This is the only time, I +believe, that the elements ever succeeded in drowning me out. I never +before had seen adobe houses, and I found San Antonio very interesting, +and drove as far as I could along the road of the old Spanish Missions +that maintain the traditions and aspects of the Spanish in the New +World. The Southern theatres are the dirtiest places that can be +imagined; and I recall eating opossum that was served to us with great +pride by my waiter. + +From this time on I did not contemplate any long engagements. I did not +care for them, although I sometimes went to places to sing--and to +collect pewter! + +I never formally retired from public life, but quietly stopped when it +seemed to me the time had come. It was a Kansas City newspaper reporter +who incidentally brought home to me the fact that I was no longer very +young. I had a few grey hairs, and, after an interview granted to this +representative of the press--a woman, by the way--I found, on reading +the interview in print the next day, that my grey hairs had been +mentioned. + +"They'll find that my voice is getting grey next," I said to myself. + +I really wanted to stop before everybody would be saying, "You ought to +have heard her sing ten years ago!" + +[Illustration: =Carl Strakosch= + +From a photograph by H. W. Barnett] + +The last time I saw Patti I said to her: + +"Adelina, have you got through singing?" + +"Oh, I still sing for _mes pauvres_ in London," she replied; but she +didn't explain who were her poor. + +On my last western concert tour I sang at Oshkosh. A special train of +three cars on the Central brought down a large delegation for the +occasion from Fond du Lac, Ripon, Neenah and Menasha, Appleton and other +neighbouring towns. The audience was in the best of humour and a +particularly sympathetic one. At the close of the concert I remarked +that it was one of the finest audiences I ever sang to. And I added, by +way of pleasantry, that, having sung at Oshkosh, I was now indeed ready +to leave the stage! + +But there were even more serious reasons that influenced me in my +decision, one of which was that my mother had for some time past been in +a poor state of health. More than once, when I went to the theatre, I +had the feeling that she might not be alive when I returned home; and +this was a nervous strain to me that, combined with a severe attack of +bronchitis, brought about a physical condition which might have had +seriously lasting results if I had not taken care of myself in time. + +It was not easy to stop. When each autumn came around, it was very +difficult not to go back to the public. I had an empty feeling. There is +no sensation in the world like singing to an audience and knowing that +you have it with you. I would not change my experience for that of any +crowned head. The singer and the actor have, at least, the advantage +over all other artists of a personal recognition of their success; +although, of course, the painter and writer live in their work while the +singer and the actor become only traditions. But such traditions! On +the subject of the actor's traditions Edwin Booth has written: + + In the main, tradition to the actor is as true as that which the + sculptor perceives in Angelo, the painter in Raphael, and the + musician in Beethoven.... Tradition, if it be traced through pure + channels and to the fountainhead, leads one as near to Nature as + can be followed by her servant, Art. Whatever Quinn, Barton Booth, + Garrick, and Cooke gave to stagecraft, or as we now term it, + "business," they received from their predecessors; from Betterton + and perhaps from Shakespeare himself, who, though not distinguished + as an actor, well knew what acting should be; and what they + inherited in this way they bequeathed in turn to their art and we + should not despise it. Kean knew without seeing Cooke, who in turn + knew from Macklin, and so back to Betterton, just what to do and + how to do it. Their great Mother Nature, who reiterates her + teachings and preserves her monotone in motion, form, and sound, + taught them. There must be some similitude in all things that are + True! + +The traditions of singing are not what they used to be, however, for the +new school of opera does not require great finish, although it does +demand greater dramatic art. It used to be that Tetrazzinis could make +successes through coloratura singing alone; but to-day coloratura +singing has no great hold on the public after the novelty has worn off. +But it does very well in combination with heavier music, as in Mozart's +_Magic Flute_ or _The Huguenots_, and so modern singers have to be both +coloraturists and dramaticists. _A propos_ of singing and methods, I +append a newspaper interview that a reporter had with me in Paris, 1887. +He had been shown a new dinner dress of white _moire_ with ivy leaves +woven into the tissue, and writes: + +[Illustration: =Letter from Edwin Booth to Clara Louise Kellogg=] + + I examined the rustling treasure critically and decided it was a + complete success. The train was long, the stuff rich, the taste + perfect, and yet--the great essential was wanting. I could not but + reflect on the transformation which would come over that regal robe + were it once hung on the shapely shoulders of the famous _prima + donna_. + + "You see, there is nothing like singing to fill out dresses where + they should be filled out, and conversely," said Sbriglia, who + happened to be present as we came back into the _salon_; + "consequently my advice to all ladies who wish to improve their + figure is to take vocal lessons." + + "Yes," agreed Miss Kellogg, "if they can only find right + instruction. But, unfortunately good teachers nowadays are rarer + than good voices. Even the famous Paris Conservatory doesn't + contain good vocal instruction. If there be any teaching in the + world which is thoroughly worthless, it is precisely that given in + the Rue Bergère. But I cannot do justice to the subject. Do give us + your ideas, Professor, about the Paris Conservatory and the French + School of voice culture." + + "As to any French vocal school," replied Sbriglia, "there is none. + Each professor has a system of his own that is only less bad than + the system of some rival professor. One man tells you to breathe up + and down and another in and out. One claims that the musical tones + are formed in the head, while another locates them in the throat. + And when these gentlemen receive a fresh, untrained voice, their + first care is to split it up into three distinct parts which they + call registers, and for the arrangement of which they lay down + three distinct sets of rules. + + "As to the Conservatory, it is a national disgrace; and I have no + hesitation in saying that it not only does no good, but is actually + the means of ruining hundreds of fine voices. Look at the results. + It is from the Conservatory that the Grand Opera chooses its French + singers, and the simple fact is that in the entire _personnel_ + there are no great French artists. There are artists from Russia, + Italy, Germany and America, but there are none from France. And + yet the most talented students of the Conservatory make their + _débuts_ there every year with fine voices and brilliant prospects; + but, as a famous critic has well said, 'after singing for three + years under the system which they have been taught, they acquire a + perfect "style" and lose their voice.' + + "You ask me what I consider to be the correct method. I dislike + very much the use of the word 'method,' because it seems to imply + something artificial; whereas in all the vocal processes, there is + only a single logical method and that is the one taught us all by + nature at our birth. Watch a baby crying. How does he breathe? + Simply by pushing the abdomen forward, thus drawing air into the + lungs, to fill the vacuum produced, and then bringing it back + again, which expels the air. And every one breathes that way, + except certain advocates of theoretical nonsense, who have learned + with great difficulty to exactly reverse this operation. Such + singers make a bellows of the chest, instead of the abdomen, and, + as the strain to produce long sounds is evidently greater in + forcing the air out than in simply drawing it in, their inevitable + tendency is to unduly contract the chest and to distend the + abdomen." + + "Let me give you an illustration of the truth of M. Sbriglia's + argument," said Miss Kellogg, rising from her seat. "Now watch me + as I utter a musical note." And immediately the rich voice that has + charmed so many thousands filled the apartment with a clear + "a-a-a-a" as the note grew in volume. + + "You see Miss Kellogg has little to fear from consumption!" + exclaimed Sbriglia. "And I am convinced that invalids with + disorders of the chest would do well to stop taking drugs and study + the art of breathing and singing." + + "And even those who have no voice," said Miss Kellogg, "would by + this means not only improve in health and looks, but would also + learn to read and speak correctly, for the same principles apply to + all the vocal processes. It is astonishing how few people use the + voice properly. For instance I could read in this tone all the + afternoon without fatigue, but if I were to do this" (making a + perceptible change in the position of her head), "I should begin to + cough before finishing a column. Don't you notice the difference? + In the one case the sounds come from here" (touching her chest) + "and are free and musical; but in the other, I seem to speak in my + throat, and soon feel an irritation there which makes me want the + traditional glass of sugar and water." + + "The irritation which accompanies what you call 'speaking in the + throat,'" explained Sbriglia, "is caused by pressing too hard upon + the vocal cords, that become, in consequence, congested with blood, + instead of remaining white as they should be. Persons who have this + habit grow hoarse after very brief vocal exertion, and it is + largely for that reason that American men rarely make fine singers. + On the other hand, look at Salvini, who, by simply knowing how to + place his voice, is able to play a tremendous part like Othello + without the slightest sense of fatigue. + + "About the American 'twang'? Oh, no, it does not injure the voice. + On the contrary, this nasal peculiarity, especially common among + your women, is of positive value in a proper production of certain + tones." + + + + +CODA + + +The Coda in music is, literally, the tail of the composition, the +finishing off of the piece. The influence of Wagner did away with the +Coda: yet, as my place in the history of opera is that of an exponent of +the Italian rather than the German form, I feel that a Coda, or a last +few words of farewell, is admissible. + +In some ways the Italian opera of my day seems banal. Yet Italian opera +is not altogether the thing of the past that it is sometimes supposed to +be. More and more, I believe, is it coming back into public favour as +people experience a renewed realisation that melody is the perfect +thing, in art as in life. I believe that _Mignon_ would draw at the +present time, if a good cast could be found. But it would be difficult +to find a good cast. + +Italian opera did what it was intended to do:--it showed the art of +singing. It was never supposed to be but an accompaniment to the +orchestra as German opera often is; an idea not very gratifying to a +singer, and sometimes not to the public. Yet we can hardly make +comparisons. Personally, I like German opera and many forms of music +beside the Italian very much, even while convinced of the fact that +German critics are not the whole audience. At least, the opera could not +long be preserved on them alone. + +[Illustration: ="Elpstone"= + +New Hartford, Connecticut] + +It seems to me as I look back over the preceding pages that I have put +into them all the irrelevant matter of my life and left out much that +was important. Many of my dearest _rôles_ I have forgotten to mention, +and many of my most illustrious acquaintances I have omitted to honour. +But when one has lived a great many years, the past becomes a good deal +like an attic: one goes there to hunt for some particular thing, but the +chances are that one finds anything and everything except what one went +to find. So, out of my attic, I have unearthed ever so many unimportant +heirlooms of the past, leaving others, perhaps more valuable and more +interesting, to be eaten by moths and corrupted by rust for all time. + +There is very little more for me to say. I do not want to write of my +last appearances in public. Even though I did leave the operatic stage +at the height of my success, there is yet something melancholy in the +end of anything. As Richard Hovey says: + + There is a sadness in all things that pass; + We love the moonlight better for the sun, + And the day better when the night is near. + The last look on a place where we have dwelt + Reveals more beauty than we dreamed before, + When it was daily ... + +In our big, young country of America there are the possibilities of many +another singer greater than I have been. I shall be proud and grateful +if the story of my high ambitions, hard work, and kindly treatment +should chance to encourage one of these. For, while it is true that +there is nothing that should be chosen less lightly than an artistic +career, it is also true that, having chosen it, there is nothing too +great to be given up for it. I have no other message to give; no further +lesson to teach. I have lived and sung, and, in these memories, have +tried to tell something of the living and the singing: but when I seek +for a salient and moving word as a last one, I find that I am dumb. Yet +I feel as I used to feel when I sang before a large audience. Somewhere +out in the audience of the world there must be those who are in +instinctive sympathy with me. My thoughts go wandering toward them as, +long ago, my thoughts would wander toward the unknown friends sitting +before me in the theatre and listening. So poignant is this sense within +me that, halting as my message may have been, I feel quite sure that +somehow, here and there, some one will hear it, responsive in the +heart. + + + + +INDEX + + +Abbott, Emma, in _Camille_, 70; + meeting with, 272-275; 320 + +Academy of Music, the, _début_ of Kellogg at, 33; + stage conditions at, 37; + director of, 40; + winter season at, 91; + benefit at, 92; + return to, 201; 258, 259, 263 + +Adam, Mme., 304 + +Adamowski, Timothie, 358 + +Adams, Charles, 298 + +Adams, Maud, in _Joan of Arc_, 66 + +Aïda, 292, 301, 302, 307 + +Albani, Mme., 235 + +Albertini, 294 + +Albites, suggestion of, 102 + +Alboni, Mme., Rovere and, 94; + anecdote of, 175 + +Aldrich, Thomas Bailey, 47, 48 + +Alexander, John, 281 + +Amina, the _rôle_ of, 64; + the opera of, 65; + Murska as, 296 + +Amodio, 13; + personal appearance of, 14; + in _Don Giovanni_, 74 + +Amonasro, 307 + +Andrede, Joseph, 300 + +Annetta, 91; + contrast between Marguerite and, 93; + Malibran as, 94; + Grisi as, 94; + Kellogg as, 93, 94, 96 + +Anschutz, _Faust_ and, 78 + +Appleton, Tom, 46, 47 + +Arditi, 135, 138, 162-164, 168, 171, 173 + +Armitage, Sir George, 195-198 + +Association, Peace Jubilee, 235 + +Azucena, 249 + + +Babcock, William, 7 + +Bachert, Pond and, 358 + +Balfe, 261, 262 + +_Ballo in Maschera_, 55, 62, 329, 338 + +Banjo, first mention of, 8; + music of, 9; + old man and the, 217, 218; + accompaniment of, 358 + +_Barbiere, Il_, realistic performance of, 38; 56, 91, 97, 167, 277 + +Barbizon School, 306 + +Barlow, Judge Peter, 102 + +Barlow, Mrs. Samuel, 276-279 + +Bateman concerts, 101 + +Beecher, Henry Ward, 214 + +Beethoven, 78; + Jubilee, 209; + Okakura and music of, 219; + reference to, 366 + +Behrens, Siegfried, 263, 264, 267 + +Bellini, 54; + traditions of, 67; + music of, 80 + +Benedict, Sir Jules, 6, 197, 261, 262 + +Bennett, James Gordon, 251, 303 + +Bennett, Mr., 164, 174, 238 + +Bentinck, Mrs. Cavendish, 190 + +Bernhardt, 208 + +_Beware_, Longfellow and, 46; + singing of, 175, 178, 197 + +Bey, Khalil, 156, 157 + +Biachi as Mephistopheles, 86 + +Bianchi, Mlle., 329 + +Bierstadt, Albert, 160 + +Bizet, 305 + +Black, Valentine, 305 + +_Bohème, La_, 91 + +_Bohemian Girl, The_, 257, 259 + +Booth, Edwin, letter from, 16; + on stage traditions, 366 + +Booth, Wilkes, 111 + +Borde, Mme. de la, in _Les Huguenots_, 13; + voice of, 13 + +Borgia, Lucretia, Grisi as, 159 + +Bososio, Mlle., as Prascovia, 102 + +Boucicault, Dion, 15, 262 + +Brignoli, 13, 14; + tour with, 22; + temper of, 22, 23; + origin of, 24; + mascot of, 24, 165; + point of view of, 24; + anecdote of, 25; + death of, 25; + in _I Puritani_, 29; + in opera with, 36; + difficulties with, 41; + in Boston with, 44; + farewell performance for, 64; + Americanisation of, 71; + in _Poliuto_, 72; + Gottschalk and, 107; + mention of, 294, 358 + +Brougham, John, 15 + +Bulow, Von, 298 + +Burnett, Mrs. Frances Hodgson, 281 + +Burroughs, John, reference to, 288 + +Butterfly, Madame, 255 + + +Cabanel, 306 + +Cable, George, 281 + +Callender, May, 276, 277 + +Calvé, 81; + as Carmen, 291 + +_Camille_, Matilda Heron in, 15; + public attitude toward, 69; + mention of, 70; + libretto of, 135 + +Campanini, Italo, 236, 237, 261, 295 + +Capoul, 184, 236, 237, 295 + +Carlton, William, 258-261, 265, 268, 275; + Marie Roze and, 290 + +Carmen, 73, 91; + Minnie Hauck as, 102; + Kellogg in, 231, 236; + in English, 254; + Marie Roze as, 290; + the _rôle_ of, 291; + Calvé as, 291; + music of, 305 + +Carvalho, Mme. Miolan-, 77; + wig of, 82, 140; + as Marguerite, 84 + +Cary, Annie Louise, 193; + Kellogg and, 289, 292-294, 298, 304 + +_Castille, The Rose of_, 257 + +Castle, 257, 269, 270 + +Catherine, in _Star of the North_, 102; + jewels for, 104; + incident when singing, 267 + +Châtelet, Théâtre, 140 + +Christina, ex-Queen, 143, 144 + +Clarke, James Freeman, 50 + +Clarkson, Bishop, 300 + +Clover, Lieutenant, 357 + +Club, Stanley, 305 + +Colson, Pauline, tour with, 22; + advice of, 26; + example in costuming of, 27; + illness of, 27 + +Combermere, Viscountess, 125; + anecdote of, 128 + +Comédie Française, 15 + +Concerts, private, 168; + Buckingham Palace, 179-186, 302; + Benedict's, 197; + tours, 200-203, 208, 227-230; + trials of, 232-234; + in Russia, 346 + +Conklin, Ellen, effect of slavery on, 58, 59 + +Conly, George, 256, 258, 275 + +Connaught, Duke of, 183, 184 + +Contessa, incident in Titjien's _rôle_ of, 169, 170, 239 + +Cook, W. H., 124 + +Coquelin, 304 + +Costa, Sir Michael, 169, 170, 194, 238, 267 + +Cotogni, 235, 337 + +Coulsen, 294 + +Crinkle, Nym, _see_ Wheeler + +_Crispino e la Comare_, 91, 94; + Cobbler in, 94; + mention of, 97, 249 + +_Curiose, Le Donne_, 91 + +Cushman, Charlotte, attendance at theatre by, 33; + evening in Boston with, 50, 52; + in Rome with, 160; + as Queen Katherine, 270, 271 + +Cusins, 176, 178 + +Custer, 57, 58 + +Czar, the, Ronconi and, 95; + daughter of, 182, 183; + signature of, 335; + physician of, 337; + Nihilists and, 338, 343; + mourning of, 342; + sight of, 350, 351; + assassination of, 354, 355 + + +Dahlgren, Admiral, 183, 357 + +_Dame Blanche, La_, 96 + +D'Angri, 13 + +_Daniel Deronda_, quotation from, 315-316 + +Davidson, 167, 190, 195 + +Davis, Jefferson, at West Point, 19; + son of, 19; + wife of, 20 + +Davis, Will, 256 + +Debussy, 79 + +Deland, Conly as, 258 + +de Reszke, Jean, in _L'Africaine_, 40; + Sbriglia and, 313, 314 + +de Reszke, Josephine, 306 + +_Diavolo, Fra_, 16, 91; + benefit performance of, 92, 93; + fondness for, 97; + scenes from, 159; + Lucca in, 174, 249; + Conly in, 256; + mention of, 261; + Habelmann as, 269 + +Dickens, house of, 241 + +Donizetti, 56; + opera of _Betly_ by, 68; + _Poliuto_ by, 71; + music of, 80 + +Donna Anna, _rôle_ of, 74, 137; + Titjiens as, 169, 170, 173; + Kellogg as, 249 + +Doria, Clara, 246 + +Douglass, William, 126, 203 + +Duc de Morney, 360 + +Dudley, Lord, 189 + +Dufferin, Lord and Lady, 353 + +Dukas, 79 + +Duse, 208 + +_Dutchman, The Flying_, 257, 258, 263-265 + + +Eames, Mme., 83 + +Edinburgh, Duchess of, 182, 183 + +Edward, Miss, 121, 137 + +Ehn, Mme., 329 + +Elssler, Fanny, 330 + +Elvira, Donna, 137, 170, 173 + +Emerson, 45, 221 + +Emory, Lieutenant, 357 + +_Ernani_, Patti in, 148, 155 + +Errani, 11 + +Eugénie, Empress, 149, 150 + +Evans, Dr., 150 + + +Fabri, Count, 244 + +Falstaff, 91 + +Farragut, Admiral, 157, 158 + +Farrar, Geraldine, as Marguerite, 81, 83, 89 + +Faure, 145, 147, 178, 179, 184, 235, 323 + +_Faust_, first suggestion of Kellogg in, 40; + anecdote about, 46; + public attitude toward, 68; + decision of Maretzek about, 75; + on the Continent, 77; + criticism of 78; + estimate of 79; + early effect on public of, 81, 89; + Alice Neilson in 82; + _Poliuto_ and, 88; + liberties with score of, 88, 89; + Santley in, 132; + French treatment of, 140; + in America, 240; + mention of, 244, 307; + Lucca in, 249, 250; + Carlton in, 260; + Drury Lane and, 132, 135, 137, 162, 174, 189, 261; + Mike and, 266; + Emma Abbott in, 274; + testimonial, 298; + libretto of, 333; + mention of, 359 + +Fechter, Mr., 168 + +Federici as Marguerite, 80 + +Felina, 251-253, 331, 358 + +Ferri, tour with, 22; + as Rigoletto, 33; + blindness of, 33, 41 + +Fidelio, Titjiens as, 169 + +Field, Eugene, 271 + +Field, Mrs. Marshall, 279 + +Fields, James T., home of, 45; + anecdote of, 46; + friends of, 47, 48; + opinion of "copy" of Mrs. Stowe, 49; + hospitality of, 50; + letter to, 89 + +Fioretti, 195 + +Fischoff, 326, 332 + +Flotow, opera of _Martha_ by, 73 + +Flute, playing of, 2; + Lanier and, 51; + Wagner's use of, 52 + +_Flute, The Magic_, 74, 146, 366; + song from _The Star_ in, 173 + +Foley, Walter, 131, 167, 236 + +Foster, Mr., 338, 339 + +Franceschetti, 322 + +Frapoli, 299 + +_Freischütz, Der_, 254 + +French, art of the, 140 + +Fursch-Nadi, 310 + + +Gaiety, 93, 94; + Italian, 160 + +Gannon, Mary, 15 + +Garden, Covent, 129, 135, 167, 171, 172, 178, 194-196, 235 + +Garden, Mary, artistic spirit of, 40; + English opera and, 255 + +_Gazza Ladra, La_, 166-168, 173 + +Gazzaniga, Mme., 294 + +Gerster, 303, 329 + +Giatano, Nita, 242, 243 + +Gilda, study of the _rôle_ of, 29; + appearance in, 34, 35, 63; + comparison with Marguerite of, 79; + Kellogg as, 81 + +Gilder, Jeannette, 193, 280, 282; + Ellen Terry and, 283 + +Gilder, Richard Watson, 192, 219, 221; + Mrs., 279, 281; + studio of, 280-282 + +Gilder, Rodman, 281 + +Gilder, William H., 280 + +Gilmore, Patrick, 309 + +_Giovanni, Don_, 62; + under Grau in, 74; + at Her Majesty's, 137, 167, 170, 173, 174, 197, 198; + mention of, 249, 296, 342 + +Godard, 305 + +Goddard, Mr., 190 + +Goethe, 254 + +Goodwin, 168, 197 + +_Götterdämmerung, Die_, 91 + +Gottschalk, 106, 107, 295 + +Gounod, new opera by, 75; + as revolutionist, 78, 79; + mention of, 132; + reference to, 133; + in London, 140, 240-244; + Gounod, Madame, 243 + +Grange, Mme. de la, in _Les Huguenots_, 13; + in _Sonnambula_, 38; + in _The Star of the North_, 102 + +Grant, General, in Chicago, 114, 115; + President and Mrs., 266 + +Grau, Maurice, 67; + _Traviata_ and, 69; + in Boston with, 74, 258, 259; + mention of, 300; + Opera House, 307 + +Greeley, Horace, funeral of, 209 + +Greenough, Lillie, 277 + +Gridley, Lieutenant-Commander, 357 + +Grisi, opportunity to hear, 14; + opera costumier and, 85; + as Annetta, 94; + family of, 158; + story of, 159 + +Grove, Sir George, 262 + +Gye, Mr., 129, 135, 171, 172 + + +Habelmann, Theodor, in _Fra Diavolo_, 96, 269, 270 + +Hall, Dr. John, 300 + +Hamilton, Sir Frederick, 342 + +Hamilton, Gail, 50 + +Hamlet, in French, 141; + Nilsson in, 145; + Faure as, 147; + McCullough as, 282; + mad scene in, 292, 329 + +Handel, Festival, 172; + _Messiah_ of, 209; + and Haydn Society, 298 + +Hanslick, Dr., 195; + complimented by, 329-331 + +Harrington, Earl of, 126; + ice-box of, 127; + daughter of, 127; + at the opera, 198 + +Harte, Bret, niece of, 319 + +Hauck, Minnie, as Prascovia, 102, 103; + characterisation of, 103; + mention of, 303 + +Haute, M. De la, 159 + +Hawaii, King of, 266 + +Hawthorne, Julian, 49 + +Hawthorne, Nathaniel, 48 + +_Hélène, La Belle_, 254 + +Heron, Matilda, 15 + +Hess, C. D., 256-259; + benefit of Kellogg, 275 + +Heurtly, Mrs., 190 + +Hinckley, Isabella, 41; + in _Il Barbiere_, 56; + in _Betly_, 68 + +Hissing, custom of, in Spain, 145 + +Hoey, Mrs. John, 15 + +Hoffman, Baron, 329, 330 + +Holmes, Oliver Wendell, 46; + breakfasts with, 52; + opinion of English women of, 53 + +Hosmer, Harriet, 160 + +Howe, Julia Ward, 46, 49, 61 + +Huger, General Isaac, son of, 18, 57 + +_Huguenots, Les_, 91, 174, 295, 366 + + +_Iago_, 307 + +Irving, Henry, great strength of, 40; + repose of, 234, 248; + first meeting with, 282; + complaint of, 284; + reforms of, 284, 285 + + +Jackson, Helen Hunt, 281 + +Jaffray, E. S., 322 + +Jarrett, 120, 162, 163; + daughter of, 163, 164, 168, 173, 198; + Colonel Stebbins and, 173; + Gounod and, 241; + mention of, 249, 250, 251, 252, 253, 294, 300, 331 + +Jerome, Leonard, 188 + +Johnston, Sir Alan, 353 + +Jordan, Jules, 206, 207 + +Juliet, saying of Modjeska about, 70; + Patti as, 194, 198; + Romeo and, 240; + Gounod and, 244 + + +Karl, Tom, 298 + +Katherine, Queen, 270, 271 + +Keene, Laura, 15 + +Kellogg, Clara Louise, first appearance of, 6; + description as a child of, 7; + dress of, 8, 25, 26, 39, 40, 70, 84, 85, 135, 136, 137, 210, 265, 347; + Muzio and, 11, 12, 13; + early singers heard by, 13; + histrionic skill of, 15, 16; + resemblance to Rachel of, 16; + _début_ as Gilda of, 33; + as Marguerite, 40, 75-92; + hospitalities toward, 44, 45, 93, 100, 101, 278, 279, 362, 363; + wig of, 82-84; + in Opéra Comique, 91-98; + jewelry of, 93, 104, 105, 298; + as Flower Prima Donna, 103, 202; + Lucca and, 245-252; + in English Opera, 254-270; + favourite flower of; 266; + in "Three Graces" Tour, 289-304 + +Kellogg, George, flute of, 2; + failure of, 9; + Irish servants and, 61; + in New Hartford with, 67; + story of, 231 + +Keppel, Colonel, 133 + +Korbay, Francis, 219 + +Krauss, 307 + +Küster, Baron, 338 + + +La Farge, John, 219, 221, 280 + +_L'Africaine_, de Reszke in, 40; + Lucca in, 249; + Masini in, 341 + +Lang, 190, 198 + +Lanier, Sidney, 50; + anecdote of, 51 + +Lascelle, 306 + +Lawrence, Alberto, 258 + +_Lecouvreur, Adrienne_, 282 + +Leonora, Marie Willt as, 152; + Lucca as, 179; + Morgan and, 269 + +Le Page, Bastien, 281 + +Leporello, Rockitanski as, 170 + +_Le Roi de Lahore_, 306 + +Librettos, inartistic, 255; + Emma Abbott and, 274; + texts of, 332 + +Liebling, 358 + +_Lily o'Killarney_, 261, 262 + +Lincoln, Abraham, call for volunteers by, 54; + anecdote of, 110; + death of, 111; + lying-in-state of, 112-114, 118 + +Lind, Jenny, 5, 6, 294 + +Linda di Chamounix, first public appearance of Kellogg in, 25; + Boston's attitude toward, 36; + origin of, 36; + story of, 36, 37; + costuming of, 38, 39; + Susini, in, 42; + Mme. Medori as, 42; + Kellogg in Boston as, 43, 50, 54, 62; + teaching of, 63; + comparison with Marguerite of, 79; + _Clara Louise Polka_ and, 88; + Patti in, 129; + mention of, 132, 249; + at Her Majesty's, 135, 167, 236, 238 + +Liszt, saying of, 234 + +Littlejohn, Bishop, 300 + +_Lohengrin_, 292 + +Longfellow, 46, 47; + poems of, 46, 47; + anecdote of, 47; + letter by, 89; + reference to, 221 + +Lorenzo, Conly as, 256 + +Loveday, Mme., 261 + +Lowell, 46, 47 + +Lucca, Pauline, Piccolomini's resemblance to, 14; + travelling of, 28; + as Marguerite, 82; + in _Fra Diavolo_, 174; + at rehearsal, 178, 179; + at Buckingham Palace, 184, 185; + at Covent Garden, 196, 235; + in America, 240; + Kellogg and, 245-250; + as Mignon, 251; + mention of, 294, 329 + +Lucia, Patti in, 15, 62; + comparison with Linda of, 73; + standing of, 73; + Kellogg in Chicago as, 113, 237; + _rôle_ of, 292; + Kellogg as, 329 + + +Maas, Joseph, 256-258, 261 + +Macci, Victor, opera by, 68 + +Macmillan, Lady, 284 + +Maddox, 194, 195, 246, 247 + +Maeterlinck, Mme., saying of, 103 + +Malibran, 94 + +Manchester, Consuelo, Duchess of, 184 + +Mancini, 359 + +Mansfield, Richard, mother of, 165 + +Manzocchi, 11 + +Mapleson, Col. J. M., 120, 139, 162, 166, 168, 170, 171, 173, 174, 198, + 200, 235, 236, 241, 301, 302 + +Mapleson, Henry, 289, 290, 292-294, 303 + +Maretzek, Max, at the Academy, 40; + during the war, 55; + decision with regard to _Faust_ of, 75, 77, 78; + Colonel Stebbins and, 85; + Mazzoleni and, 86; + _Faust_ and, 87, 88; + benefit custom and, 91, 92, 119; + in Philadelphia with, 201; + saying of, 215; + management of, 240 + +Marguerite, interpretation of, 42; + estimate of, 80-84, 333; + Nilsson as, 82, 129; + costume +of, 84, 85; + Patti as, in France, 140, 141; + reference to, 243, 263; + Lucca as, 249, 250; + Kellogg as, 359 + +_Maria de Rohan_, Rovere in, 95 + +Mario, Grisi and, 14; + mention of, 147, 167, 185, 195, 196 + +Martha, 62, 73, 74; + comparison with Marguerite of, 79; + _Faust_ and, 88; + as Opéra Comique, 91; + at Her Majesty's, 135; + Nilsson as, 145; + Kellogg as, 249, 261, 329 + +Martin, Mrs., 202-207 + +Masaniello, 96 + +Masini, 338, 340, 341 + +Materna, Mme., 329, 331 + +Matthews, Brander, wife of, 69; + reception by father of, 100, 101 + +Maurel, 141, 295, 306, 307 + +Mazzoleni as Faust, 86, 87 + +McCook, Alec, 18, 57 + +McCreary, Lieutenant, 18, 57 + +McCullough, John, 282, 300 + +McHenry, 143, 145, 148, 158, 167, 190, 197, 198 + +McKenzie, Sir Edward, 190, 300, 301 + +McVickar, Commodore, 121, 126 + +Medori, Mme., as Linda, 42; + in Don Giovanni, 74 + +_Meister, Wilhelm_, 251, 252 + +_Meistersinger, Die_, 91 + +Melodies, negro, 1, 9, 117, 146, 305, 357 + +Menier, Chocolat, 243, 309 + +Meyerbeer, 90; + craze for, 101; + a song of, 102; + son-in-law of, 328 + +Mignon, effect on audience of, 59; + Polonaise from, 183, 229, 305, 358; + Lucca and Kellogg in, 251; + in English, 257, 260; + Cary as, 293; + cast of, 298; + Kellogg as, 329, 330, 331; + reference to, 370 + +Mike, 266 + +Millet, 11; + son of, 282 + +Mind, sub-conscious, 13; + workings of the, 35, 169, 216 + +Minstrels, negro, 8 + +Mireille, 240, 243 + +Mistral, 240 + +Modjeska, Helena, in _Adrienne_ +_Lecouvreur_, 59; + in Camille 69; + saying of, 70; + Okakura and, 281; + Kellogg and, 282, 283; + custom of, 352 + +Moncrieff, Mrs., 243 + +Morelli, 294 + +Morgan, Wilfred, 258, 259, 269 + +Mother, first mention of, 2, 3, 4; + attitude toward theatre of, 30, 31; + presence at performance of Gilda of, 35; + in Boston with, 44, 52; + in New Hartford with, 67; + _Faust_ and, 81; + character of, 108; + anecdote of, 128; + in England, 137; + in Paris, 139, 143; + diary of, 154-157, 163, 164, 166-168, 173, 174, 178, 197, 198, 308, 326; + mention of, 186, 188, 190, 194, 195, 200, 252, 259, 286, 304, 307, 334; + Eugene Field and, 271; + in Russia, 349, 352-356; + health of, 365 + +Moulton, melody of _Beware_ by, 175 + +Moulton, Mrs., 277 + +Mowbray, J. P., _see_ Wheeler + +Mozart, operas of, 74; + English and, 136; + _arias_ of, 146; + with Titjiens in operas of, 169; + all-star casts of, 170; + music of, 366 + +Munkacsy, 219 + +Murska, Mlle., Ilma de, 296 + +Muzio, 11; + appearance of, 12; + opinion of, 17; + concert tour of Kellogg with, 22; + Italian traditions and, 66; + concert tour under, 72; + polka by, 88 + + +Napoleon III, 148, 149 + +Negroes, treatment of, 58; + in New York during the war, 60; + discussions regarding the, 60; + anti-negro riots, 323 + +Neilson, Adelaide, 247 + +Neilson, Alice, in _Faust_, 82 + +Nevin, 322 + +Newcastle, Duchess of, 184, 188, 197 + +Newcastle, Duke of, 100, 125; + in box of, 146, 167, 168, 173, 174, 188, 189, 191, 192; + pin of the, 193, 194, 197, 198, 235 + +Newson, 6, 7 + +Nicolini, 130, 148, 184, 185 + +Night, Queen of the, Nilsson as, 146 + +Nilsson, Christine, as Marguerite, 82; + in London, 129, 131, 132, 137, 169, 173, 235; + as Martha, 145; + voice of, 146, 147; + superstition of, 165, 166; + in opera with, 169; + Sir Michael Costa and, 170; + at Buckingham Palace, 184; + friend of, 190; + reference to, 196, 239, 252, 261, 294, 295, 326, 329 + +_Noces de Jeannette, Les_, 29, 62; + libretto of, 68 + +Nordica, Lillian, 309, 310; + Nevin's song and, 322; + in Russia with, 337, 341, 347, 348 + +Norma, Grisi as, 158; + reference to, 252 + +_Nozze di Figaro, Le_, 170, 171, 174, 197, 198, 249, 261 + + +_Oh, had I Jubal's Lyre!_ 172 + +Okakura, 219-222, 281 + +Oldenburg, Prince, 346 + +Olin, Mrs. Stephen Henry, 276, 277 + +_Opera, The Beggar's_, 258 + +Opéra bouffe, 90 + +Opéra comique, 90, 91, 97; + of Paris, 236 + +Opera, traditions of, 12, 77, 79, 263, 277; + necessities of, 34; + effect of war on, 55, 56; + houses in America for, 68; + early customs of, 84; + innovations of, 87; + benefit custom of, 91; + Her Majesty's, 120, 129, 136, 171, 178, 235; + French, 140, 141; + English, 254-258, 260-303; + translations of, 255, 256, 260, 261; + Strakosch and, 303; + Imperial, 326; + in Petersburg, 334-342; + preparation for, 367; + province of Italian, 370 + +Ophelia, Modjeska as, 282; + Kellogg as, 293 + +Othello, Salvini as, 283; + in Munich 307 + +Oudin, Eugene, 277 + +Oxenford, 262 + + +Palace, Buckingham, 176-179; + concerts at, 179-186, 302 + +Palace, Crystal, 172, 174, 209 + +Palmer, Anna, 11 + +Paloma, La, 249 + +Parker, Minnie, 276, 277 + +Parodi, 294 + +_Pasquale, Don_, 96 + +Patey, Mme., 174 + +Patti, Adelina, 5; + early appearance of, 15; + as Marguerite, 82; + voice of, 129, 130, 132, 323; + in London 77, 129, 132, 135, 184, 185, 195-198, 235; + sister of, 129; + in Paris with, 308; + comparison with, 330; + questioning of, 365 + +Patti, Carlotta, 295 + +_Paul and Virginia_, 295 + +Peakes, 257 + +Pease, Miss Alta, 358 + +Pergolese, opera of _La Serva Padrona_ by, 14 + +Peto, Sir Morton, banquet of, 99 + +Petrelli, 272 + +Petrovitch, 338 + +Phillips, Adelaide, as Maddalena, 41; + as Pierotto, 41, 248 + +Photography, new effects in, 208 + +Piccolomini, 14, 74 + +Pinchot, Gifford, sister of, 353 + +Pine, Louisa, 13 + +Pitch, absolute, 4, 165, 267; + standard of, 231 + +Plançon, 312 + +Plantagenet, Lady Edith, 297 + +_Poliuto_, 62; + plot of, 71; + _Faust_ and, 88 + +_Polka, Clara Louise_, 88 + +Pond, Major, 360, 361 + +Pope Pius IX., 160 + +Porter, Ella, 11; + in Paris, 84 + +Porter, General Horace, 19, 20, 57 + +Prascovia, Minnie Hauck as, 102, 103 + +Press, criticisms of the, 27, 35, 39, 42, 68, 70, 75, 78, 88, 89, 94, + 97, 133, 135, 164, 200, 211, 215, 239, 240, 250, 252, 256, 258, 271, + 279, 291, 358; + standing of the, 328; + in Vienna, 331; + censorship in Russia of the, 336; + interview, 366 + +Public, English, 136, 194, 237; + American, 229, 230, 238; + rival factions of the, 250; + characteristics of the, 264, 296; + Petersburg, 339; + Boston, 358; + charm of the, 365, 372 + +_Puritani, I_, Brignoli in, 29; + Kellogg in, 54, 62, 63 + + +Quinn, Dr., 168, 191, 235 + + +Rachel, 16 + +Racine, 306 + +Rampolla, Cardinal, 161 + +Ramsay, Captain, 357 + +Ramsay, Col., 300 + +Randegger, 195 + +Rathbone, General, 300 + +Reed, Miss Fanny, in Boston, 45; + in New York, 277, 278 + +Reeves, Sims, 174, 175 + +_Reggimento, La Figlia del_, 56, 58, 62; + at close of Civil War, 114; + Lucca in, 249 + +Renaud in opera, 40, 265 + +Rice brothers, 94 + +_Rigoletto_, 29, 34, 36; + opinion of Boston of, 36; + origin of, 36, 62; + meaning of, 81, 167; + Masini as, 341 + +Ristori, 16 + +Rivarde, 11 + +_Robert le Diable_, 86, 201, 332 + +Robertson, Agnes, 15 + +Robertson, Madge (Mrs. Kendall), 284 + +Robin, Theodore, 304-306 + +Rockitanski, 170 + +Ronalds, Mrs. Peter, 276, 277, 279 + +Ronconi, 94; + The Czar and, 95; + in _Fra Diavolo_, 95; + anecdote of, 96 + +Rosa, Carl, 101 + +Rosa, Euphrosyne Parepa, 101, 209, 262 + +Rosina, 91, 93, 96, 97, 137 + +Rossini, 13, 97; + reference to, 133; + English and, 136; + traditions of, 277; + Nordica and, 310 + +Rossmore, Lady, 192, 198 + +Rota, 261 + +Rothschild, Baron Alfred de, 194, 198, 235 + +Rovere, 94 + +Roze, Marie, 236, 261, 289, 290, 292, 293, 298 + +Rubenstein, 246, 248 + +Rudersdorf, Mme. Erminie, 165 + +Ryan, Mr., 305 + +Ryloff, 269 + + +_Salome_, suppression of, 69, 254 + +Salvini, 283 + +Sampson, Mr., 190, 198 + +Sandford, Wright, 126, 203 + +Santley, Ronconi and, 95; + as Valentine, 132; + kindness of, 134; + as Almaviva, 137, 167, 168, 170, 173, 174, 184, 198 + +Sanz, 248, 249 + +Sargent, 281 + +Sbriglia, 310-313; + Jean de Reszke and, 313, 314, 367-369 + +Scalchi, Sofia, 172, 185; + in Petersburg, 337 + +Scarborough, Bishop, 300 + +Scola, lessons in acting from, 29, 38 + +Scott, Sir Walter, 261 + +Sebasti, 161 + +Seguin, Stella, 257, 258 + +Seguin, Ted, 258 + +Sembrich, Marcella, 337 + +Semiramide, 171, 277, 342 + +Senta, 263-265, 292 + +_Serenade, The Persian_, 223 + +Shakespeare in music, 141 + +Sherman, General, in Chicago, 114 + +Siebel, Miss Sulzer as, 87 + +Singing, methods of, 5; + Grisi and, 158, 159; + _prime donne_ and, 231; + early, 307; + Nordica and, 310; + Sbriglia and, 311-321, 367-369; + traditions of, 366 + +Sinico, Mme., 137 + +Sinnett, A. P., 189 + +Slezak, 312 + +Smith, Mark, 246 + +Society, Arion, 206 + +Somerset, Duchess of, 121-124; + letters by, 125; + beadwork of, 126, 137, 144, 197, 168, 188, 197 + +_Sonnambula, La_, 54, 62-64; + teaching of, 65, 66; + _aria_ from 67; + Murska in, 296 + +Sonnenthal, 330 + +Southern, the elder, 15 + +Spofford, Harriet Prescott, 50 + +_Stabat Mater_, 310 + +Stackpoole, Major, 192, 197, 198 + +Stage, attitude toward, 11; + Italian attitude toward, 12; + English precedent of, 12; + superstitions of, 24, 36, 165; + primitive conditions of, 25, 27, 28, 37, 38, 87; + in France, 140 + +Stanley, 189 + +_Star of the North, The_, 102; + flute song of, 173; + in English, 257, 266; + quartette in, 267 + +_Star, The Evening_, 230 + +Stebbins, Colonel Henry G., 10; + daughters of, 11; + home of, 16; + sister of, 33; + _Faust_ and, 85; + in England, 122-124, 137; + in Scotland, 131; + in France, 155, 158; + daughter of, 160; + friendship of, 171, 173, 174, 197, 198 + +Stevens, Mrs. Paran, in Boston, 44, 45, 278; + sister of, 277 + +Stewart, Jules, 306 + +Stigelli, 33, 71, 294 + +Stowe, Harriet Beecher, 46, 49 + +Strakosch, Maurice, 130, 148; + Napoleon and, 149; + at Covent Garden with, 194, 198; + Patti and, advice of, 294; + methods of, 302 + +Strakosch, Max, 200, 201, 204, 205, 240, 289, 292, 294-296, 300, 303, 359 + +Strauss, 79, 254 + +Sulzer, Miss, 87 + +_Summer, The Last Rose of_, 135 + +Susanna, Kellogg as, 170, 240 + +Susini, name of, 22; + as the Baron in _Linda_, 41; + wife of, 41; + sense of humour of, 42; + salute of Grant and Sherman by, 115; + mention of, 294 + + +Tadema, Alma, 191 + +Tagliapietra, 358 + +_Talisman, The_, 261, 297 + +Talleyrand, Marquis de, 157, 158 + +_Tannhäuser_, 140, 230 + +Tennants, 189 + +Terry, Ellen, 234, 248; + opinion of, 283, 284 + +Thalberg, 106; + Strakosch and, 294 + +Theatre, in England, 131; + in France, 140, 141; + Her Majesty's 189, 235; + traditions of the, 366 + +Theatre, Booth's, 267 + +Théâtre Comique, 307 + +Théâtre Français, 265, 306 + +Théâtre Lyrique, 145 + +Thomas, Ambrose, 146 + +Thomas, Theodore, at the Academy, 40; + in Chicago, 321 + +Thomaschewski, Dr., 337, 347 + +Thompson troupe, Lydia, 69 + +_Thorough-base_, 2 + +Thursby, Emma, 298 + +Tilton, Mrs. Elizabeth, 214 + +Titjiens, in London, 77, 129, 132, 137, 139, 170, 173; + pet of, 168, 169, 178, 179, 185, 196, 235, 239, 302 + +_Traviata_, Piccolomini in, 14; + the part of Violetta in, 15, 62; + libretto of, 68; + public opinion of, 69, 70; + Patti in, 130; + at Her Majesty's, 135, 164; + costume in, 136; + rehearsal of, 163; + success of, 164; + Lucca in, 249; + interpretation of, 291; + Kellogg in 329, 338, 342; + solo from, 357 + +Trebelli-Bettini, 236 + +Trentini, Emma, superstition of, 166 + +Trobriand, Baron de, opinions and stories of, 16 + +Trollope, Anthony, 46, 48 + +_Trovatore_, Mme. de la Grange in, 13; + Marie Willt in, 153; + Lucca in, 179; + Kellogg in, 201, 249, 260, 261, 329; + Carlton in, 268 + +Tschaikowsky, 306 + +Turner, Charles, 261 + + +Valentine, Carlton as, 260; + Kellogg as, 295 + +Vanderbilt, Frederick W., 300 + +Vanderbilt, William H., 197, 285, 286 + +Vane-Tempest, Lady Susan, 192, 197 + +Van Zandt, Miss, 307 + +Van Zandt, Mrs., 257 + +Verdi, mention of, 11; + Falstaff of, 91; + reference to, 133, 292, 298; + meeting with, 307, 308; + criticism of, 331 + +Vernon, Mrs., 15 + +Victoria, Queen, 177, 186, 301 + +Villiers, Colonel, 353 + +Violetta, 15; + character of, 70; + gowns of 70; + jewels for, 104; + Patti as, 130; + costume of, 135; + Kellogg as, 338; + solo of, 357 + +Vogel, 307 + +Voltaire, house of, 143 + + +Wagner, fondness of Kellogg for music of, 30; + use of flute by, 52; + as a revolutionist, 78, 263, 264, 265; + reviewers and, 88; + mention of, 90, 292; + French idea of, 140, 253; + von Bulow and, 298; + Hanslick and, 329, 330 + +Walcot, Charles, 15 + +Wales, Prince of, 133, 164, 177, 178, 180-183; + daughter of, 190, 192, 301, 302 + +Wales, Princess of, 178, 180-183, 302 + +Wallack, John, exclamation of, 16 + +Wallack, Lester, 300 + +_Waltz, The Kellogg_, 135, 138 + +War, Civil, West Point before the, 19; + beginning of the, 54; + attitude of public toward, 55; + riots in New York during, 59-61; + opera during the, 74, 75; + close of, 110; + after the, 201; + reference to, 233, 359, 360 + +Wehli, James M., 201 + +Welldon, Georgina, 241-243 + +Werther, 91 + +West Point, primitive conditions of, 17; + conspiracies at, 18 + +Wheeler, A. C., 42, 75 + +White, Stanford, 280 + +Whitney, M. W., 298 + +Widor, 305 + +Wieniawski, 246 + +Wig, for Marguerite, 82-84, 140; + of Leuta, 265 + +Wilde, Oscar, 254, 255 + +Willt, Marie, anecdote of, 153 + +Witherspoon, Herbert, in Norfolk, 9; + in New Hartford, 67 + +Wood, Mrs. John, 15 + +Worth, creations of, 136, 278, 279, 347, 348 + +Wyckoff, Chevalier, 148, 188 + + +Yeats, Edmund, 246, 247 + +Young, Brigham, 298 + + +Zerlina, Piccolomini as, 14; + Kellogg as, 74, 91-93, 97, 137, 170; + country of, 159; + Lucca as, 249 + + * * * * * + + +_A Selection from the Catalogue of_ + +G. P. PUTNAM'S SONS + +Complete Catalogue sent on application + + * * * * * + +"_A grab-bag of fascinations, for open the pages where one will, each +chapter has its racy anecdote and astonishing story._" + +My Autobiography + +Madame Judith + +of the Comédie Française + +Edited by Paul G'Sell + +Translated by Mrs. Arthur Bull + +_With Photogravure Frontispiece. $3.50 net By mail, $3.75_ + + +Madame Judith was not only a stage rival but a close friend of the great +French actress, Rachel, and the intimate of Victor Hugo, Alfred de +Musset, Alexandra Dumas, Prince Napoleon, and many other men of letters +and rank. + +Madame Judith's memories extend over an intensely interesting period of +French history, commencing with the Revolution that ushered in the +Second Empire, and ending with the foundation of the Republic after the +Franco-Prussian War. + +Famous actors and actresses, poets, novelists, dramatists, members of +the imperial family, statesmen, and minor actors in the drama of life +flit across the canvas, their personalities being vividly realized by +some significant anecdotes or telling characterizations. + +Kind-hearted, clear-headed, and brilliantly gifted, Madame Judith led an +active and fascinating life, and it is to her credit that while she does +not hesitate to tell of the weaknesses of others, she is equally ready +to acknowledge her own. + +New York G. P. Putnam's Sons London + + * * * * * + +The Life of + +Henry Labouchere + +By Algar Labouchere Thorold + +_Authorized Edition. 2 vols. With 6 Photogravure Illustrations_ + + +The authorized edition has been prepared by the nephew of Mr. +Labouchere, who for the last ten years has been a close neighbor of, and +in intimate and personal relation with him. Mr. Labouchere frequently +communicated to Mr. Thorold many details of his early life, and +discussed with him his numerous activities with great freedom. Mr. +Thorold has, furthermore, sole access to a voluminous correspondence, +including letters from King Edward VII. when Prince of Wales, Mr. +Gladstone, Lord Morley, Sir William Harcourt, Mr. Parnell, Lord Randolph +Churchill, and Sir Henry Campbell-Bannerman, which shed a new and +unexpected light upon his political and personal relations with the +events and people of his time, in particular his connection with the +Radical Party over a period of a considerable number of years. His life +as a war correspondent during the siege of Paris and his action in +connection with the Parnell Commission, culminating in the dramatic +confession of Pigott, will be treated in full detail. As is well-known +Mr. Labouchere was the founder and first editor of _Truth_, that unique +production of modern journalism; and much new and interesting +information concerning the foundation and early days of this remarkable +journal will be brought before the public. + +New York G. P. Putnam's Sons London + + * * * * * + +A Woman's Defense + +My Own Story + +By Louisa of Tuscany + +Ex-Crown Princess of Saxony + +_With 19 Illustrations from Original Photographs 8º. $3.50 net. (By +mail, $3.75)_ + + +In this volume Princess Louisa gives for the first time the authentic +inside history of the events that led to her sensational escape from the +Court of Saxony and her meeting with Monsieur Giron, with whom the +tongue of scandal had associated her name. It is a story of Court +intrigue that reads like romance. + +"As the story of a woman's life, as a description of the private affairs +of Royal houses, we have had nothing more intimate, more scandalous, or +more readable than this very frank story." + +_Miss Jeannette L. Gilder in "The Reader."_ + +"Frank, free, amazingly intimate, refreshing.... She has spared nobody +from kings and kaisers to valets and chambermaids." + +_London Morning Post._ + +"The Princess is a decidedly vivacious writer, and she does not mince +words in describing the various royalties by whom she was surrounded. +Some of her pictures of Court life will prove a decided revelation to +most readers."--_N. Y. Times._ + +New York G. P. Putnam's Sons London + + * * * * * + +A STARTLING BOOK! + +My Past + +Reminiscences of the Courts of Austria and of Bavaria + +By the Countess Marie Larisch + +Née Baroness Von Wallersee + +Daughter of Duke Ludwig and Niece of the Late Empress Elizabeth of +Austria + +_8º. With 21 Illustrations from Original Photographs $3.50 net. By mail, +$3.75_ + +_The True Story of the Tragic Death of Rudolph, Crown Prince of Austria_ + +The author was the favourite niece of the Empress Elizabeth of Austria +and enjoyed her aunt's complete trust. The Empress confided to her many +circumstances which this cautious ruler withheld from others close to +her person. Her station at the Austrian Court has enabled her to tell +many intimate and curiosity-arousing anecdotes concerning the noble +families of Europe. + +Interesting and full of glamour as her life was, however, her place in +history is assured primarily through her inadvertent connection with the +amour which Crown Prince Rudolph of Austria carried on with the Baroness +Mary Vetsera, and which culminated in the tragic death of the lovers at +Meyerling. + +"_An amazing chronicle of imperial and royal scandals, which spares no +member of the two august houses to which she is related._"--_N. 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You may copy it, give it away or +re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included +with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org + + +Title: Memoirs of an American Prima Donna + +Author: Clara Louise Kellogg + +Release Date: November 15, 2011 [EBook #38023] + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: ISO-8859-1 + +*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK MEMOIRS OF AN AMERICAN PRIMA DONNA *** + + + + +Produced by Chuck Greif, University of Michigan Libraries +and the Online Distributed Proofreading Team at +http://www.pgdp.net + + + + + + +</pre> + +<hr class="full" /> + +<p class="figcenter"> +<a href="images/cover_lg.jpg"> +<img src="images/cover.jpg" width="356" height="550" alt="Image of the book's cover" title="Image of the book's cover" /></a> +</p> + +<p><a name="front" id="front"></a></p> +<p class="figcenter"> +<a href="images/front_lg.jpg"> +<img src="images/front_sml.jpg" width="393" height="550" alt="Signature; Clara Louise Kellogg Strakosch" title="" /></a> +</p> + +<h1>Memoirs of an<br /><br /> +<big>American Prima Donna</big></h1> + +<p class="cb">By<br /><br /> +Clara Louise Kellogg<br /> +<small>(Mme. Strakosch)</small></p> + +<p class="cb"><i>With 40 Illustrations</i></p> + +<p class="cb">G. P. Putnam's Sons<br /> +<small>New York and London<br /> +<span style="font-family: Old English Text MT, serif;">The Knickerbocker Press</span><br /> +1913</small></p> + +<p class="c"><br /><br /> +C<small>OPYRIGHT,</small> 1913<br /> +<small>BY</small><br /> +CLARA LOUISE KELLOGG STRAKOSCH<br /> +<br /><br /><br /> +<span style="font-family: Old English Text MT, serif;">The Knickerbocker Press New York</span> +<br /><br /> </p> + +<p> +<br /> +<br /> +</p> + +<p class="cb"><small>WITH AFFECTION AND DEEPEST APPRECIATION OF HER WORTH<br /> +AS BOTH A RARE WOMAN AND A RARER FRIEND<br /> +I INSCRIBE THIS RECORD OF MY<br /> +PUBLIC LIFE TO</small><br /> +<br /> +JEANNETTE L. GILDER<br /> +</p> + +<p> +<br /> +<br /> +</p> + +<h2><a name="FOREWORD" id="FOREWORD"></a>FOREWORD</h2> + +<p class="nind"><span class="letra">T</span>HE name of Clara Louise Kellogg is known to the immediate generation +chiefly as an echo of the past. Yet only thirty years ago it was written +of her, enthusiastically but truthfully, that "no living singer needs a +biography less than Miss Clara Louise Kellogg; and nowhere in the world +would a biography of her be so superfluous as in America, where her name +is a household word and her illustrious career is familiar in all its +triumphant details to the whole people."</p> + +<p>The past to which she belongs is therefore recent; it is the past of +yesterday only, thought of tenderly by our fathers and mothers, spoken +of reverently as a poignant phase of their own ephemeral youth, one of +their sweet lavender memories. The pity is (although this is itself part +of the evanescent charm), that the singer's best creations can live but +in the hearts of a people, and the fame of sound is as fugitive as life +itself.</p> + +<p>A record of such creations is, however, possible and also enduring; +while it is also necessary for a just estimate of the development of +civilisations. As such, this record of her musical past—presented by +Clara Louise Kellogg herself—will have a place in the annals of the +evolution of musical art on the North American continent long after +every vestige of fluttering personal reminiscence has vanished down the +ages. A word of appreciation with regard to the preparation of this +record is due to John Jay Whitehead, Jr., whose diligent chronological +labours have materially assisted the editor.</p> + +<p>Clara Louise Kellogg came from New England stock of English heritage. +She was named after Clara Novello. Her father, George Kellogg, was an +inventor of various machines and instruments and, at the time of her +birth, was principal of Sumter Academy, Sumterville, S. C. Thus the +famous singer was acclaimed in later years not only as the Star of the +North (the <i>rôle</i> of Catherine in Meyerbeer's opera of that name being +one of her achievements) but also as "the lone star of the South in the +operatic world." She first sang publicly in New York in 1861 at an +evening party given by Mr. Edward Cooper, the brother of Mrs. Abram +Hewitt. This was the year of her <i>début</i> as Gilda in Verdi's opera of +<i>Rigoletto</i> at the Academy of Music in New York City. When she came +before her countrymen as a singer, she was several decades ahead of her +musical public, for she was a lyric artist as well as a singer. America +was not then producing either singers or lyric artists; and in fact we +were, as a nation, but just getting over the notion that America could +not produce great voices. We held a very firm contempt for our own +facilities, our knowledge, and our taste in musical matters. If we did +discover a rough diamond, we had to send it to Italy to find out if it +were of the first water and to have it polished and set. Nothing was so +absolutely necessary for our self-respect as that some American woman +should arise with sufficient American talent and bravery to prove beyond +all cavil that the country was able to produce both singers and artists.</p> + +<p>For rather more than twenty-five years, from her appearance as Gilda +until she quietly withdrew from public life, when it seemed to her that +the appropriate moment for so doing had come, Clara Louise Kellogg +filled this need and maintained her contention. She was educated in +America, and her career, both in America and abroad, was remarkable in +its consistent triumphs. When Gounod's <i>Faust</i> was a musical and an +operatic innovation, she broke through the Italian traditions of her +training and created the <i>rôle</i> of Marguerite according to her own +beliefs; and throughout her later characterisations in Italian opera, +she sustained a wonderfully poised attitude of independence and of +observance with regard to these same traditions. In London, in St. +Petersburg, in Vienna, as well as in the length and breadth of the +United States, she gained a recognition and an appreciation in opera, +oratorio, and concert, second to none: and when, later, she organised an +English Opera Company and successfully piloted it on a course of +unprecedented popularity, her personal laurels were equally supreme.</p> + +<p>In 1887, Miss Kellogg married Carl Strakosch, who had for some time been +her manager. Mr. Strakosch is the nephew of the two well-known +impresarios, Maurice and Max Strakosch. After her marriage, the public +career of Clara Louise Kellogg virtually ended. The Strakosch home is in +New Hartford, Connecticut, and Mrs. Strakosch gave to it the name of +"Elpstone" because of a large rock shaped like an elephant that is the +most conspicuous feature as one enters the grounds through the +poplar-guarded gate. Mr. and Mrs. Strakosch are very fond of their New +Hartford home, but, the Litchfield County climate in winter being +severe, they usually spend their winters in Rome. They have also +travelled largely in Oriental countries.</p> + +<p>In 1912, Mr. and Mrs. Strakosch celebrated their Silver Wedding at +Elpstone. On this occasion, the whole village of New Hartford was given +up to festivities, and friends came from miles away to offer their +congratulations. Perhaps the most pleasant incident of the celebration +was the presentation of a silver loving cup to Mr. and Mrs. Strakosch by +the people of New Hartford in token of the affectionate esteem in which +they are both held.</p> + +<p>The woman, Clara Louise Kellogg, is quite as distinct a personality as +was the <i>prima donna</i>. So thoroughly, indeed, so fundamentally, is she a +musician that her knowledge of life itself is as much a matter of +harmony as is her music. She lives her melody; applying the basic +principle that Carlyle has expressed so admirably when he says: "See +deeply enough and you see musically."</p> + +<p class="r">I<small>SABEL</small> M<small>OORE.</small></p> + +<p class="hang">W<small>OODSTOCK,</small> N. Y.<br /> +August, 1913<br /> +</p> + +<table border="0" cellpadding="3" cellspacing="0" summary="CONTENTS"> +<tr><th colspan="3" align="center"><a name="CONTENTS" id="CONTENTS"></a><big>CONTENTS</big></th></tr> +<tr><td align="right"><small>CHAPTER</small></td><td> </td><td align="right"> <small>PAGE</small></td></tr> +<tr><td align="right"><a href="#CHAPTER_I">I</a>.</td><td><span class="smcap">My First Notes</span></td><td align="right" valign="bottom"><a href="#page_001">1</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align="right"><a href="#CHAPTER_II">II</a>.</td><td><span class="smcap">Girlhood</span></td><td align="right" valign="bottom"><a href="#page_011">11</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align="right"><a href="#CHAPTER_III">III</a>.</td><td>"<span class="smcap">Like a Picked Chicken!</span>"</td><td align="right" valign="bottom"><a href="#page_022">22</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align="right"><a href="#CHAPTER_IV">IV</a>.</td><td><span class="smcap">A Youthful Realist</span></td><td align="right" valign="bottom"><a href="#page_033">33</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align="right"><a href="#CHAPTER_V">V</a>.</td><td><span class="smcap">Literary Boston</span></td><td align="right" valign="bottom"><a href="#page_043">43</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align="right"><a href="#CHAPTER_VI">VI</a>.</td><td><span class="smcap">War Times</span></td><td align="right" valign="bottom"><a href="#page_055">55</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align="right"><a href="#CHAPTER_VII">VII</a>.</td><td><span class="smcap">Steps of the Ladder</span></td><td align="right" valign="bottom"><a href="#page_062">62</a></td></tr> + +<tr><td align="right"><a href="#CHAPTER_VIII">VIII</a>.</td><td><span class="smcap">Marguerite</span></td><td align="right" valign="bottom"><a href="#page_077">77</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align="right"><a href="#CHAPTER_IX">IX</a>.</td><td><span class="smcap">Opéra Comique</span></td><td align="right" valign="bottom"><a href="#page_090">90</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align="right"><a href="#CHAPTER_X">X</a>.</td><td><span class="smcap">Another Season and a Little More Success</span></td><td align="right" valign="bottom"><a href="#page_099">99</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align="right"><a href="#CHAPTER_XI">XI</a>.</td><td><span class="smcap">The End of the War</span></td><td align="right" valign="bottom"><a href="#page_110">110</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align="right"><a href="#CHAPTER_XII">XII</a>.</td><td><span class="smcap">And so—to England!</span></td><td align="right" valign="bottom"><a href="#page_119">119</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align="right"><a href="#CHAPTER_XIII">XIII</a>.</td><td><span class="smcap">At Her Majesty's</span> </td><td align="right" valign="bottom"><a href="#page_129">129</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align="right"><a href="#CHAPTER_XIV">XIV</a>.</td><td><span class="smcap">Across the Channel</span></td><td align="right" valign="bottom"><a href="#page_139">139</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align="right"><a href="#CHAPTER_XV">XV</a>.</td><td><span class="smcap">My First Holiday on the Continent</span></td><td align="right" valign="bottom"><a href="#page_152">152</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align="right"><a href="#CHAPTER_XVI">XVI</a>.</td><td><span class="smcap">Fellow-Artists</span></td><td align="right" valign="bottom"><a href="#page_163">163</a></td></tr> + +<tr><td align="right"><a href="#CHAPTER_XVII">XVII</a>.</td><td><span class="smcap">The Royal Concerts at Buckingham Palace</span></td><td align="right" valign="bottom"><a href="#page_177">177</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align="right"><a href="#CHAPTER_XVIII">XVIII</a>.</td><td><span class="smcap">The London Season</span></td><td align="right" valign="bottom"><a href="#page_188">188</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align="right"><a href="#CHAPTER_XIX">XIX</a>.</td><td><span class="smcap">Home Again</span></td><td align="right" valign="bottom"><a href="#page_200">200</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align="right"><a href="#CHAPTER_XX">XX</a>.</td><td>"<span class="smcap">Your Sincere Admirer</span>"</td><td align="right" valign="bottom"><a href="#page_212">212</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align="right"><a href="#CHAPTER_XXI">XXI</a>.</td><td><span class="smcap">On the Road</span></td><td align="right" valign="bottom"><a href="#page_227">227</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align="right"><a href="#CHAPTER_XXII">XXII</a>.</td><td><span class="smcap">London Again</span></td><td align="right" valign="bottom"><a href="#page_235">235</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align="right"><a href="#CHAPTER_XXIII">XXIII</a>.</td><td><span class="smcap">The Season with Lucca</span></td><td align="right" valign="bottom"><a href="#page_245">245</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align="right"><a href="#CHAPTER_XXIV">XXIV</a>.</td><td><span class="smcap">English Opera</span></td><td align="right" valign="bottom"><a href="#page_254">254</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align="right"><a href="#CHAPTER_XXV">XXV</a>.</td><td><span class="smcap">English Opera</span>—<i>Continued</i></td><td align="right" valign="bottom"><a href="#page_266">266</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align="right"><a href="#CHAPTER_XXVI">XXVI</a>.</td><td><span class="smcap">Amateurs and Others</span></td><td align="right" valign="bottom"><a href="#page_276">276</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align="right"><a href="#CHAPTER_XXVII">XXVII</a>.</td><td>"<span class="smcap">The Three Graces</span>"</td><td align="right" valign="bottom"><a href="#page_289">289</a></td></tr> + +<tr><td align="right"><a href="#CHAPTER_XXVIII">XXVIII</a>.</td><td><span class="smcap">Across the Seas Again</span></td><td align="right" valign="bottom"><a href="#page_300">300</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align="right"><a href="#CHAPTER_XXIX">XXIX</a>.</td><td><span class="smcap">Teaching and the Half-Talented</span></td><td align="right" valign="bottom"><a href="#page_309">309</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align="right"><a href="#CHAPTER_XXX">XXX</a>.</td><td><span class="smcap">The Wanderlust, and Where It Led Me</span></td><td align="right" valign="bottom"><a href="#page_324">324</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align="right"><a href="#CHAPTER_XXXI">XXXI</a>.</td><td><span class="smcap">Saint Petersburg</span></td><td align="right" valign="bottom"><a href="#page_334">334</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align="right"><a href="#CHAPTER_XXXII">XXXII</a>.</td><td><span class="smcap">Good-bye to Russia—and then?</span></td><td align="right" valign="bottom"><a href="#page_346">346</a></td></tr> + +<tr><td align="right"><a href="#CHAPTER_XXXIII">XXXIII</a>.</td><td><span class="smcap">The Last Years of my Professional Career</span></td><td align="right" valign="bottom"><a href="#page_357">357</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align="right"><a href="#CODA">XXXIV</a>.</td><td><span class="smcap"><i>Coda</i></span></td><td align="right" valign="bottom"><a href="#page_370">370</a></td></tr> +<tr><td> </td><td><a href="#INDEX">Index</a></td> <td align="right" valign="bottom"><a href="#page_373">373</a></td></tr> +</table> + +<table border="0" cellpadding="2" cellspacing="0" summary="ILLUSTRATIONS"> +<tr><th colspan="3" align="center"><a name="ILLUSTRATIONS" id="ILLUSTRATIONS"></a><big>ILLUSTRATIONS</big></th></tr> +<tr><td> </td><td align="right"> <small>PAGE</small></td></tr> + +<tr><td><span class="smcap">Clara Louise Kellogg Strakosch</span></td><td align="right" valign="bottom"><a href="#front"><i>Frontispiece</i></a></td></tr> + +<tr><td><span class="smcap">Lydia Atwood</span></td><td align="right" valign="bottom"><a href="#page_002">2</a></td></tr> +<tr><td><span style="margin-left: 1.5em;">Maternal Grandmother of Clara Louise Kellogg</span></td></tr> + +<tr><td><span class="smcap">Charles Atwood</span></td><td align="right" valign="bottom"><a href="#page_004">4</a></td></tr> +<tr><td><span style="margin-left: 1.5em;">Maternal Grandfather of Clara Louise Kellogg</span></td></tr> + +<tr><td><span style="margin-left: 1.5em;">From a Daguerreotype</span></td></tr> + +<tr><td><span class="smcap">George Kellogg</span></td><td align="right" valign="bottom"><a href="#page_010">10</a></td></tr> +<tr><td><span style="margin-left: 1.5em;">Father of Clara Louise Kellogg</span></td></tr> + +<tr><td><span style="margin-left: 1.5em;">From a photograph by Gurney & Son</span></td></tr> + +<tr><td><span class="smcap">Clara Louise Kellogg, Aged Three</span></td><td align="right" valign="bottom"><a href="#page_012">12</a></td></tr> +<tr><td><span style="margin-left: 1.5em;">From a photograph by Black & Case</span></td></tr> + +<tr><td><span class="smcap">Clara Louise Kellogg, Aged Seven</span></td><td align="right" valign="bottom"><a href="#page_014">14</a></td></tr> +<tr><td><span style="margin-left: 1.5em;">From a photograph by Black & Case</span></td></tr> + +<tr><td><span class="smcap">Clara Louise Kellogg as a Girl</span></td><td align="right" valign="bottom"><a href="#page_020">20</a></td></tr> +<tr><td><span style="margin-left: 1.5em;">From a photograph by Sarony</span></td></tr> + +<tr><td><span class="smcap">Clara Louise Kellogg as a Young Lady</span></td><td align="right" valign="bottom"><a href="#page_028">28</a></td></tr> +<tr><td><span style="margin-left: 1.5em;">From a photograph by Black & Case</span></td></tr> + +<tr><td><span class="smcap">Brignoli, 1865</span></td><td align="right" valign="bottom"><a href="#page_042">42</a></td></tr> +<tr><td><span style="margin-left: 1.5em;">From a photograph by C. Silvy</span></td></tr> + +<tr><td><span class="smcap">James Russell Lowell, in 1861</span></td><td align="right" valign="bottom"><a href="#page_046">46</a></td></tr> +<tr><td><span style="margin-left: 1.5em;">From a photograph by Brady</span></td></tr> + +<tr><td><span class="smcap">Charlotte Cushman, 1861</span></td><td align="right" valign="bottom"><a href="#page_052">52</a></td></tr> +<tr><td><span style="margin-left: 1.5em;">From a photograph by Silabee, Case & Co.</span></td></tr> + +<tr><td><span class="smcap">Clara Louise Kellogg as Figlia</span></td><td align="right" valign="bottom"><a href="#page_056">56</a></td></tr> +<tr><td><span style="margin-left: 1.5em;">From a photograph by Black & Case</span></td></tr> + +<tr><td><span class="smcap">General Horace Porter</span></td><td align="right" valign="bottom"><a href="#page_058">58</a></td></tr> +<tr><td><span style="margin-left: 1.5em;">From a photograph by Pach Bros.</span></td></tr> + +<tr><td><span class="smcap">Muzio</span></td><td align="right" valign="bottom"><a href="#page_066">66</a></td></tr> +<tr><td><span style="margin-left: 1.5em;">From a photograph by Gurney & Son</span></td></tr> + +<tr><td><span class="smcap">Clara Louise Kellogg as Lucia</span></td><td align="right" valign="bottom"><a href="#page_072">72</a></td></tr> +<tr><td><span style="margin-left: 1.5em;">From a photograph by Elliott & Fry</span></td></tr> + +<tr><td><span class="smcap">Clara Louise Kellogg as Martha</span></td><td align="right" valign="bottom"><a href="#page_074">74</a></td></tr> +<tr><td><span style="margin-left: 1.5em;">From a photograph by Turner</span></td></tr> + +<tr><td><span class="smcap">Clara Louise Kellogg as Marguerite, 1865</span></td><td align="right" valign="bottom"><a href="#page_082">82</a></td></tr> +<tr><td><span style="margin-left: 1.5em;">From a photograph by Sarony</span></td></tr> + +<tr><td><span class="smcap">Clara Louise Kellogg as Marguerite, 1864</span></td><td align="right" valign="bottom"><a href="#page_088">88</a></td></tr> +<tr><td><span style="margin-left: 1.5em;">From a silhouette by Ida Waugh</span></td></tr> + +<tr><td><span class="smcap">Gottschalk</span></td><td align="right" valign="bottom"><a href="#page_106">106</a></td></tr> +<tr><td><span style="margin-left: 1.5em;">From a photograph by Case & Getchell</span></td></tr> + +<tr><td><span class="smcap">Jane Elizabeth Crosby</span></td><td align="right" valign="bottom"><a href="#page_108">108</a></td></tr> +<tr><td><span style="margin-left: 1.5em;">Mother of Clara Louise Kellogg</span></td></tr> + +<tr><td><span style="margin-left: 1.5em;">From a tintype</span></td></tr> + +<tr><td><span class="smcap">General William Tecumseh Sherman, 1877</span></td><td align="right" valign="bottom"><a href="#page_116">116</a></td></tr> +<tr><td><span style="margin-left: 1.5em;">From a photograph by Mora</span></td></tr> + +<tr><td><span class="smcap">Henry G. Stebbins</span></td><td align="right" valign="bottom"><a href="#page_122">122</a></td></tr> +<tr><td><span style="margin-left: 1.5em;">From a photograph by Grillet & Co.</span></td></tr> + +<tr><td><span class="smcap">Adelina Patti</span></td><td align="right" valign="bottom"><a href="#page_130">130</a></td></tr> +<tr><td><span style="margin-left: 1.5em;">From a photograph by Fredericks</span></td></tr> + +<tr><td><span class="smcap">Clara Louise Kellogg as Linda, 1868</span></td><td align="right" valign="bottom"><a href="#page_134">134</a></td></tr> +<tr><td><span style="margin-left: 1.5em;">From a photograph by Stereoscopic Co.</span></td></tr> + +<tr><td><span class="smcap">Mr. James McHenry</span></td><td align="right" valign="bottom"><a href="#page_138">138</a></td></tr> +<tr><td><span style="margin-left: 1.5em;">From a photograph by Brady</span></td></tr> + +<tr><td><span class="smcap">Christine Nilsson, as Queen of the Night</span></td><td align="right" valign="bottom"><a href="#page_146">146</a></td></tr> +<tr><td><span style="margin-left: 1.5em;">From a photograph by Pierre Petit</span></td></tr> + +<tr><td><span class="smcap">Duke of Newcastle</span></td><td align="right" valign="bottom"><a href="#page_188">188</a></td></tr> +<tr><td><span style="margin-left: 1.5em;">From a photograph by John Burton & Sons</span></td></tr> + +<tr><td><span class="smcap">Clara Louise Kellogg as Carmen</span></td><td align="right" valign="bottom"><a href="#page_230">230</a></td></tr> +<tr><td><span style="margin-left: 1.5em;">From a photograph</span></td></tr> + +<tr><td><span class="smcap">Sir Henry Irving and Ellen Terry as the Vicarand Olivia</span></td><td align="right" valign="bottom"><a href="#page_234">234</a></td></tr> +<tr><td><span style="margin-left: 1.5em;">From a photograph by Window & Grove</span></td></tr> + +<tr><td><span class="smcap">First Edition of the "Faust" Score, Published<br /> +in 1859 by Chousens of Paris, now in the<br /> +Boston Public Library</span></td><td align="right" valign="bottom"><a href="#page_240">240</a></td></tr> + +<tr><td><span class="smcap">Newspaper Print of the Kellogg-Lucca Season</span></td><td align="right" valign="bottom"><a href="#page_250">250</a></td></tr> +<tr><td><span style="margin-left: 1.5em;">Drawn by Jos. Keppler</span></td></tr> + +<tr><td><span class="smcap">Clara Louise Kellogg in <i>Mignon</i></span></td><td align="right" valign="bottom"><a href="#page_252">252</a></td></tr> +<tr><td><span style="margin-left: 1.5em;">From a photograph by Mora</span></td></tr> + +<tr><td><span class="smcap">Ellen Terry</span></td><td align="right" valign="bottom"><a href="#page_284">284</a></td></tr> +<tr><td><span style="margin-left: 1.5em;">From a photograph by Sarony</span></td></tr> + +<tr><td><span class="smcap">Colonel Henry Mapleson</span></td><td align="right" valign="bottom"><a href="#page_290">290</a></td></tr> +<tr><td><span style="margin-left: 1.5em;">From a photograph by Downey</span></td></tr> + +<tr><td><span class="smcap">Clara Louise Kellogg as Aïda</span></td><td align="right" valign="bottom"><a href="#page_292">292</a></td></tr> +<tr><td><span style="margin-left: 1.5em;">From a photograph by Mora</span></td></tr> + +<tr><td><span class="smcap">Faust Brooch Presented to Clara Louise + +Kellogg</span></td><td align="right" valign="bottom"><a href="#page_298">298</a></td></tr> + +<tr><td><span class="smcap">Carl Strakosch</span></td><td align="right" valign="bottom"><a href="#page_364">364</a></td></tr> +<tr><td><span style="margin-left: 1.5em;">From a photograph by H. W. Barnett</span></td></tr> + +<tr><td><span class="smcap">Letter from Edwin Booth to Clara Louise + +Kellogg</span></td><td align="right" valign="bottom"><a href="#page_366">366</a></td></tr> + +<tr><td><span class="smcap">"Elpstone," New Hartford, Connecticut</span></td><td align="right" valign="bottom"><a href="#page_370">370</a></td></tr> +</table> + +<p><a name="page_001" id="page_001"></a></p> + +<h1>Memoirs of<br /> +An American Prima Donna</h1> + +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_I" id="CHAPTER_I"></a>CHAPTER I<br /><br /> +MY FIRST NOTES</h2> + +<p class="nind"><span class="letra">I</span> was born in Sumterville, South Carolina, and had a negro mammy to take +care of me, one of the real old-fashioned kind, of a type now almost +gone. She used to hold me in her arms and rock me back and forth, and as +she rocked she sang. I don't know the name of the song she crooned; but +I still know the melody, and have an impression that the words were:</p> + +<table border="0" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" summary="poetry"> +<tr><td align="left"><span style="margin-left: 0em;">"Hey, Jim along,—Jim along Josy;</span></td></tr> +<tr><td align="left"><span style="margin-left: .25em;">Hey, Jim along,—Jim along Joe!"</span></td></tr> +</table> + +<p>She used to sing these two lines over and over, so that I slept and +waked to them. And my first musical efforts, when I was just ten months +old, were to try to sing this ditty in imitation of my negro mammy.</p> + +<p>When my mother first heard me she became apprehensive. Yet I kept at it; +and by the time I was a year old I could sing it so that it was quite +recognisable. I do not remember this period, of course, but my mother<a name="page_002" id="page_002"></a> +often told me about it later, and I am sure she was not telling a fairy +story.</p> + +<p>There is, after all, nothing incredible or miraculous about the fact, +extraordinary as it certainly is. We are not surprised when the young +thrush practises a trill. And in some people the need for music and the +power to make it are just as instinctive as they are in the birds. What +effects I have achieved and what success I have found must be laid to +this big, living fact: music was in me, and it had to find expression.</p> + +<p>My music was honestly come by, from both sides of the house. When the +family moved north to New England and settled in Birmingham, +Connecticut,—it is called Derby now—my father and mother played in the +little town choir, he a flute and she the organ. They were both +thoroughly musical people, and always kept up with musical affairs, +making a great many sacrifices all their lives to hear good singers +whenever any sort of opportunity offered. As for my maternal +grandmother—she was a woman with a man's brain. A widow at +twenty-three, with no money and three children, she chose, of all ways +to support them, the business of cotton weaving; going about Connecticut +and Massachusetts, setting up looms—cotton gins they were called—and +being very successful. She was a good musician also, and, in later +years, after she had married my grandfather and was comfortably off, +people begged her to give lessons; so she taught <i>thorough-base</i>, in +that day and generation! Pause for a moment to consider what that meant, +in a time when the activity of women was very limited and unrecognised. +Is it any wonder that the granddaughter of a woman who could master and +teach the science of <i>thorough-base</i> at such a period should be born +with music in her blood?<a name="page_003" id="page_003"></a></p> + +<p class="figcenter"> +<a href="images/lydia_atwood_lg.jpg"> +<img src="images/lydia_atwood_sml.jpg" width="445" height="550" alt="Lydia Atwood + +Maternal Grandmother of Clara Louise Kellogg" title="" /></a> +<br /> +<span class="caption"><b>Lydia Atwood</b><br /> + +Maternal Grandmother of Clara Louise Kellogg</span> +</p> + +<p>My other grandmother, my father's mother, was musical, too. She had a +sweet voice, and was the soprano of the church choir.</p> + +<p>Everyone knew I was naturally musical from my constant attempts to sing, +and from my deep attention when anyone performed on any instrument, even +when I was so little that I could not reach the key-board of the piano +on tip-toe. That particular piano, I remember, was very +old-fashioned—one of the square box-shaped sort—and stood extremely +high.</p> + +<p>One day my grandmother said to my mother:</p> + +<p>"I do believe, Jane, if we lifted that baby up to the piano, she could +play!"</p> + +<p>Mother said: "Oh, pshaw!"</p> + +<p>But they did lift me up, and I did play. I played not only with my right +hand but also with my left hand; and I made harmonies. Probably they +were not in any way elaborate chords, but they <i>were</i> chords, and they +harmonised. I have known some grown-up musicians whose chords didn't!</p> + +<p>I was three then, and a persistent baby, already detesting failure. I +never liked to try to do anything, even at that age, in which I might be +unsuccessful, and so learned to do what I wanted to do as soon as +possible.</p> + +<p>My mother was gifted in many ways. She used to paint charmingly; and has +told me that when she was a young girl and could not get paint brushes, +she made her own of hairs pulled from their old horse's tail.</p> + +<p>My maternal grandfather was not at all musical. He used to say that to +him the sweetest note on the piano was when the cover went down! Yet it +was he who accidentally discovered a fortunate possession of<a name="page_004" id="page_004"></a> +mine—something that has remained in my keeping ever since, and, like +many fortunate gifts, has at times troubled as much as it has consoled +me.</p> + +<p>One day he was standing by the piano in one room and I was playing on +the floor in another. He idly struck a note and asked my mother:</p> + +<p>"What note is that I am striking? Guess!"</p> + +<p>"How can I tell?" said my mother. "No one could tell that."</p> + +<p>"Why, mother!" I cried from the next room, "don't you know what note +that is?"</p> + +<p>"I do not," said my mother, "and neither do you."</p> + +<p>"I do, too," I declared. "It's the first of the three black keys going +up!"</p> + +<p>It was, in fact, F sharp, and in this manner it was discovered that I +had what we musicians call "absolute pitch"; the ability to place and +name a note the moment it is heard. As I have said, this has often +proved to be a very trying gift, for it is, and always has been +impossible for me to decipher a song in a different key from that in +which it is written. If it is written in C, I hear it in C; and conceive +the hideous discord in my brain while the orchestra or the pianist +renders it in D flat! When I see a "Do," I want to sing it as a "Do," +and not as a "Re."</p> + +<p>This episode must have been when I was about five years old, and soon +afterward I began taking regular piano lessons. I remember my teacher +quite well. He used to come out from New Haven by the Naugatuck +railway—that had just been completed and was a great curiosity—for the +purpose of instructing a class of which I was a member.</p> + +<p class="figcenter"> +<a href="images/charles_atwood_lg.jpg"> +<img src="images/charles_atwood_sml.jpg" width="391" height="550" alt="Charles Atwood + +Maternal Grandfather of Clara Louise Kellogg + +From a daguerreotype" title="" /></a> +<br /> +<span class="caption"><b>Charles Atwood</b><br /> + +Maternal Grandfather of Clara Louise Kellogg + +From a daguerreotype</span> +</p> + +<p>I had the most absurd difficulty in learning my notes. I could play +anything by ear, but to read a piece of<a name="page_005" id="page_005"></a> music and find the notes on +the piano was another matter. My teacher struggled with this odd +incapacity; but I used to cheat him shockingly.</p> + +<p>"<i>Do</i> play this for me!" I would beg. "Just once, so I can tell how it +goes."</p> + +<p>In spite of this early slowness in music reading, or, perhaps because of +it, when I <i>did</i> learn to read, I learned to read thoroughly. I could +really play; and I cannot over-estimate the help this has been to me all +my life. It is so essential—and so rare—for a <i>prima donna</i> to be not +only a fine singer but also a good musician.</p> + +<p>There was then no idea of my becoming a singer. All my time was given to +the piano and to perfecting myself in playing it. But my parents made +every effort to have me hear fine singing, for the better cultivation of +my musical taste, and I am grateful to them for doing so, as I believe +that singing is largely imitative and that, while singers need not begin +to train their voices very early, they should as soon as possible +familiarise themselves with good singing and with good music generally. +The wise artist learns from many sources, some of them quite unexpected +ones. Patti once told me that she had caught the trick of her best +"turn" from listening to Faure, the baritone.</p> + +<p>My father and mother went to New York during the Jenny Lind <i>furore</i> and +carried me in their arms to hear her big concert. I remember it clearly, +and just the way in which she tripped on to the stage that night with +her hair, as she always wore it, drawn down close over her ears—a +custom that gave rise to the popular report that she had no ears.</p> + +<p>That concert is my first musical recollection. I was much amused by the +baritone who sang <i>Figaro là<a name="page_006" id="page_006"></a> Figaro quà</i> from <i>The Barber</i>. I thought +him and his song immensely funny; and everyone around us was in a great +state over me because I insisted that the drum was out of tune. I was +really dreadfully annoyed by that drum, for it <i>was</i> out of tune! I +remember Jenny Lind sang:</p> + +<table border="0" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" summary="poetry"> +<tr><td align="left"><span style="margin-left: 0em;">"Birdling, why sing'st thou in the forest wild?</span></td></tr> +<tr><td align="left"><span style="margin-left: 1em;">Say why,—say why,—say why!"</span></td></tr> +</table> + +<p class="nind">and one part of it sounded exactly like the call of a bird. Sir Jules +Benedict, who was always her accompanist, once told me many years later +in London that she had a "hole" in her voice. He said that he had been +obliged to play her accompaniments in such a way as to cover up certain +notes in her middle register. A curious admission to come from him, I +thought, for few people knew of the "hole."</p> + +<p>Only once during my childhood did I sing in public, and that was in a +little school concert, a song <i>Come Buy My Flowers</i>, dressed up daintily +for the part and carrying a small basketful of posies of all kinds. When +I had finished singing, a man in the audience stepped down to the +footlights and held up a five-dollar bill.</p> + +<p>"To buy your flowers!" said he.</p> + +<p>That might be called my first professional performance! The local paper +said I had talent. As a matter of fact, I don't remember much about the +occasion; but I do remember only too well a dreadful incident that +occurred immediately afterward between me and the editor of the +aforesaid local paper,—Mr. Newson by name.</p> + +<p>I had a pet kitten, and it went to sleep in a rolled up rug beside the +kitchen door one day, and the cook<a name="page_007" id="page_007"></a> stepped on it. The kitten was +killed, of course, and the affair nearly killed me. I was crying my eyes +out over my poor little pet when that editor chanced along. And he made +fun of me!</p> + +<p>I turned on him in the wildest fury. I really would have killed him if I +could.</p> + +<p>"Laugh, will you!" I shrieked, beside myself. "Laugh! laugh! laugh!"</p> + +<p>He said afterwards that I absolutely frightened him, I was so small and +so tragic.</p> + +<p>"I knew then," he declared, "that that child had great emotional and +dramatic possibilities in her. Why, she nearly burned me up!"</p> + +<p>Years later, when I was singing in St. Paul, the <i>Dispatch</i> printed this +story in an interview with Mr. Newson himself. He made a heartless jest +of the alliteration—"Kellogg's Kitten Killed"—and referred to my +"inexpressible expression of sorrow and disgust" as I cried, "Laugh, +will you!" Said Mr. Newson in summing up:</p> + +<p>"It was a real tragedic act!"</p> + +<p>Mr. Newson's description of me as a child is: "A black-eyed little girl, +somewhat wayward—as she was an only child—kind-hearted, affectionate, +self-reliant, and very independent!"</p> + +<p>Well—sight-reading became so easy to me, presently, that I could not +realise any difficulty about it. To see a note was to be able to sing +it; and I was often puzzled when people expressed surprise at my +ability. When I was about eleven, someone took me to Hartford to "show +me off" to William Babcock, a teacher and a thorough musician. He got +out some of his most difficult German songs; songs far more intricate +than anything I had ever before seen, of course, and was<a name="page_008" id="page_008"></a> frankly amazed +to find that I read them just about as readily as the simple airs to +which I was accustomed.</p> + +<p>My childhood was very quiet and peaceful, rather commonplace in fact, +except for music. Reading was a pleasure, too, and, as my father was a +student and had a wonderful library, I had all the books I wanted. I was +literally brought up on Carlyle and Chaucer. I must have been a rather +queer child, in some ways. Even as a little thing I liked clothes. When +only nine years old I conceived a wild desire for a pair of kid gloves. +Kid gloves were a sign of great elegance in those days. At last my +clamours were successful and I was given a pair at Christmas. They were +a source of great pride, and I wore them to church, where I did my +little singing in the choir with the others. By this time I could read +any music at sight and would sit up and chirp and peep away quite +happily. As I spread my kid-gloved hands out most conspicuously, what I +had not noticed became very noticeable to everyone else: the fingers +were nearly two inches too long. And the choir laughed at me. I was +dreadfully mortified and sat there crying, until the kind contralto +comforted me.</p> + +<p>In my young days the negro minstrels were a great diversion. They were +amusing because they were so typical. There are none left, but in the +old times they were delightful, and it is a thousand pities that they +have passed away. All the essence of slavery, and the efforts of the +slaves to amuse themselves, were in their quaint performances. The banjo +was almost unknown to us in the North, and when it found its way to New +England it was a genuine novelty. I was simply fascinated by it as a +little girl and used to go to all the minstrel shows, and sit and watch +the men play. Their<a name="page_009" id="page_009"></a> banjos had five strings only and were played with +the back of the nail,—not like a guitar. This was the only way to get +the real negro twang. There was no refinement about such playing, but I +loved it. I said:</p> + +<p>"I believe I could play that if I had one!"</p> + +<p>My father, the dignified scholar, was horrified.</p> + +<p>"When a banjo comes in, I go out," said he.</p> + +<p>At last a friend gave me one, and I watched and studied the darkies +until I had picked up the trick of playing it, and soon acquired a real +negro touch. And I also acquired some genuine darky songs. One, of which +I was particularly fond, was called: <i>Hottes' co'n y' ever eat</i>.</p> + +<p>I really believe I was the first American girl who ever played a banjo! +In a few years along came Lotta, and made the banjo a great feature.</p> + +<p>Banjo music has natural syncopation, and its peculiarities undoubtedly +originated the "rag-time" of our present-day imitations. There was one +song that I learned from hearing a man sing it who had, in turn, caught +it from a darky, that has never to my knowledge been published and is +not to be found in any collection.</p> + +<p>It began:</p> + +<p class="figcenter"> +<a href="images/ill_pg_009_lg.png"> +<img src="images/ill_pg_009_sml.png" width="550" height="68" alt="Musical notation; It'll set this dar-key cra-zy. I don't +know what I'll do," title="musical notation" /></a> +</p> + +<p class="nind">and remains with me in my <i>répertoire</i> unto this day. I have been known +to sing it with certain effect—for when I am asked, now, to sing it, my +husband leaves the room! The last time I sang it was only a couple of +years ago in Norfolk. Herbert Witherspoon said:</p> + +<p>"Listen to that high C!"</p> + +<p>"Ah," said I, "that is the last remnant—the very last!"<a name="page_010" id="page_010"></a></p> + +<p>But this chapter is to be about my first notes, not my last ones.</p> + +<p>In 1857, my father failed, the beautiful books were sold and we went to +New York to live. Almost directly afterward occurred one of the most +important events of my career. Although I was not being trained for a +singer, but as a musician in general, I could no more help singing than +I could held breathing, or sleeping, or eating; and, one day, Colonel +Henry G. Stebbins, a well-known musical amateur, one of the directors of +the Academy of Music, was calling on my father and heard me singing to +myself in an adjoining room. Then and there he asked to be allowed to +have my voice cultivated; and so, when I was fourteen, I began to study +singing. The succeeding four years were the hardest worked years of my +life.</p> + +<p>To young girls who are contemplating vocal study, I always say that it +is mostly a question of what one is willing to give up.</p> + +<p>If you really are prepared to sacrifice all the fun that your youth is +entitled to; to work, and to deny yourself; to eat and sleep, not +because you are hungry or sleepy, but because your strength must be +conserved for your art; to make your music the whole interest of your +existence;—if you are willing to do all this, you may have your reward.</p> + +<p>But music will have no half service. It has to be all or nothing.</p> + +<p>In Rostand's play, they ask Chanticleer:</p> + +<p>"What is your life?"</p> + +<p>And he answers:</p> + +<p>"My song."</p> + +<p>"What is your song?"</p> + +<p>"My life."</p> + +<p class="figcenter"> +<a href="images/george_kellogg_lg.jpg"> +<img src="images/george_kellogg_sml.jpg" width="449" height="550" alt="George Kellogg + +Father of Clara Louise Kellogg + +Photograph by Gurney & Son" title="" /></a> +<br /> +<span class="caption"><b>George Kellogg</b><br /> + +Father of Clara Louise Kellogg<br /> + +Photograph by Gurney & Son</span> +</p> + +<p><a name="page_011" id="page_011"></a></p> + +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_II" id="CHAPTER_II"></a>CHAPTER II<br /><br /> +GIRLHOOD</h2> + +<p class="nind"><span class="letra">I</span>N taking up vocal study, however, I had no fixed intention of going on +the stage. All I decided was to make as much as I could of myself and of +my voice. Many girls I knew studied singing merely as an accomplishment. +In fact, the girl who aspired professionally was almost unknown.</p> + +<p>I first studied under a Frenchman named Millet, a graduate of the +Conservatory of Paris, who was teaching the daughters of Colonel +Stebbins and, also, the daughter of the Baron de Trobriand. Later, I +worked with Manzocchi, Rivarde, Errani and Muzio, who was a great friend +of Verdi.</p> + +<p>Most of my fellow-students were charming society girls. Ella Porter and +President Arthur's wife were with me under Rivarde, and Anna Palmer who +married the scientist, Dr. Draper. The idea of my going on the stage +would have appalled the families of these girls. In those days the life +of the theatre was regarded as altogether outside the pale. One didn't +know stage people; one couldn't speak to them, nor shake hands with +them, nor even look at them except from a safe distance across the +footlights. There were no "decent people on the stage"; how often did I +hear that foolish thing said!<a name="page_012" id="page_012"></a></p> + +<p>It is odd that in that most musical and artistic country, Italy, much +the same prejudice exists to this day. I should never think of telling a +really great Italian lady that I had been on the stage; she would +immediately think that there was something queer about me. Of course in +America all that was changed some time ago, after England had +established the precedent. People are now pleased not only to meet +artists socially, but to lionise them as well. But when I was a girl +there was a gulf as deep as the Bottomless Pit between society and +people of the theatre; and it was this gulf that I knew would open +between myself and the friends of whom I was really fond as, in time, I +realised that I was improving sufficiently to justify some definite +ambitions. My work was steady and unremitting, and by the time I began +study with Muzio my mind was pretty nearly made up.</p> + +<p>A queer, nervous, brusque, red-headed man was Muzio, from the north of +Italy, where the type always seems so curiously German. Besides being +one of the conductors of the Opera, he organised concert tours, and +promised to see that I should have my chance. It was said that he had +fled from political disturbances in Italy, but this I never heard +verified. Certainly he was quite a big man in the New York operatic +world of his day, and was a most cultivated musician, with the "Italian +traditions" of opera at his fingers' ends. It is to Muzio, incidentally, +that I owe my trill.</p> + +<p class="figcenter"> +<a href="images/clara_age_three_lg.jpg"> +<img src="images/clara_age_three_sml.jpg" width="512" height="550" alt="Clara Louise Kellogg. Aged Three + +From a photograph by Black & Case" title="" /></a> +<br /> +<span class="caption"><b>Clara Louise Kellogg. Aged Three</b><br /> + +From a photograph by Black & Case</span> +</p> + +<p>Oddly enough, I had great difficulty with that trill for three years; +but in four weeks' study he taught me the trick,—for it is a trick, +like so many other big effects. I believe I got it finally by using my +<a name="page_013" id="page_013"></a>sub-conscious mind. Don't you know how, after striving and straining +for something, you at last relax and let some inner part of your brain +carry on the battle? And how, often and often, it is then that victory +comes? So it was with my trill; and so it has been with many difficult +things that I have succeeded in since then.</p> + +<p>No account of my education would be complete without a mention of the +great singers whom I heard during that receptive period; that is, the +years between fourteen and eighteen, before my professional <i>début</i>. The +first artist I heard when I was old enough really to appreciate good +singing was Louisa Pine, who sang in New York in second-rate English +Opera with Harrison, of whom she was deeply enamoured and who usually +sang out of tune. We did not then fully understand how well-schooled and +well-trained she was; and her really fine qualities were only revealed +to me much later in a concert.</p> + +<p>Then there was D'Angri, a contralto who sang Rossini to perfection. +<i>Italiani in Algeria</i> was produced especially for her. About that same +time Mme. de la Grange was appearing, together with Mme. de la Borde, a +light and colorature soprano, something very new in America. Mme. de la +Borde sang the Queen to Mme. de la Grange's Valentine in <i>Les +Huguenots</i>, and had a French voice—if I may so express it—light, and +of a strange quality. The French claimed that she sang a scale of +<i>commas</i>, that is, a note between each of our chromatic intervals. She +may have; but it merely sounded to the listener as if she wasn't singing +the scale clearly. Mme. de la Grange was a sort of goddess to me, I +remember. I heard her first in <i>Trovatore</i> with Brignoli and Amodio.<a name="page_014" id="page_014"></a></p> + +<p>Piccolomini arrived here a couple of years later and I heard her, too. +She was of a distinguished Italian family, and, considering Italy's +aristocratic prejudices, it is strange that she should have been an +opera singer. She made <i>Traviata</i>, in which she had already captured the +British public, first known to us: yet she was an indifferent singer and +had a very limited <i>répertoire</i>. She received her adulation partly +because people didn't know much then about music. Adulation it was, too. +She made $5000 a month, and America had never before imagined such an +operatic salary. She looked a little like Lucca; was small and dark, and +decidedly clever in comedy. I was fortunate enough to see her in +Pergolese's delightful, if archaic, opera, <i>La Serva Padrona</i>—"The Maid +as Mistress"—and she proved herself to be an exceptional <i>comédienne</i>. +She was excellent in tragedy, too.</p> + +<p>Brignoli was the first great tenor I ever heard; and Amodio the first +famous baritone. Brignoli—but all the world knows what Brignoli was! As +for Amodio; he had a great and beautiful voice; but, poor man, what a +disadvantage he suffered under in his appearance. He was so fat that he +was grotesque, he was absurdly short, and had absolutely no saving grace +as to physique. He played Mazetto to Piccolomini's Zerlina, and the +whole house roared when they came on dancing.</p> + +<p>I heard nearly all the great singers of my youth; all that were to be +heard in New York, at any rate, except Grisi. I missed Grisi, I am sorry +to say, because on the one occasion when I was asked to hear her sing, +with Mario, I chose to go to a children's party instead. I am much +ashamed of this levity, although I was, to be sure, only ten years old +at the time.<a name="page_015" id="page_015"></a></p> + +<p class="figcenter"> +<a href="images/clara_age_seven_lg.jpg"> +<img src="images/clara_age_seven_sml.jpg" width="511" height="550" alt="Clara Louise Kellogg. Aged Seven + +Photograph by Black & Case" title="" /></a> +<br /> +<span class="caption"><b>Clara Louise Kellogg. Aged Seven</b><br /> + +Photograph by Black & Case</span> +</p> + +<p>Adelina Patti I heard the year before my own <i>début</i>. She was a slip of +a girl then, when she appeared over here in <i>Lucia</i>, and carried the +town by storm. What a voice! I had never dreamed of anything like it. +But, for that matter, neither had anyone else.</p> + +<p>What histrionic skill I ever developed I attribute to the splendid +acting that I saw so constantly during my girlhood. And what actors and +actresses we had! As I look back, I wonder if we half appreciated them. +It is certainly true that, viewed comparatively, we must cry "there were +giants in those days!" Think of Mrs. John Wood and Jefferson at the +Winter Garden; of Dion Boucicault and his wife, Agnes Robertson; of +Laura Keene—a revelation to us all—and of the French Theatre, which +was but a little hole in the wall, but the home of some exquisite art (I +was brought up on the Raouls in French pantomime); and all the wonderful +old Wallack Stock Company! Think of the elder Sothern, and of John +Brougham, and of Charles Walcot, and of Mrs. John Hoey, Mrs. Vernon, and +Mary Gannon,—that most beautiful and perfect of all <i>ingénues</i>! Those +people would be world-famous stars if they were playing to-day; we have +no actors or companies like them left. Not even the Comédie Française +ever had such a gathering.</p> + +<p>It may be imagined what an education it was for a young girl with stage +aspirations to see such work week after week. For I was taken to see +everyone in everything, and some of the impressions I received then were +permanent. For instance, Matilda Heron in <i>Camille</i> gave me a picture of +poor Marguerite Gautier so deep and so vivid that I found it invaluable, +years later, when I myself came to play Violetta in <i>Traviata</i>.<a name="page_016" id="page_016"></a></p> + +<p>I saw both Ristori and Rachel too. The latter I heard recite on her last +appearance in America. It was the <i>Marseillaise</i>, and deeply impressive. +Personally, I loved best her <i>Moineau de Lesbie</i>. Shall I ever forget +her enchanting reading of the little scene with the jewels?—<i>Suis-je +belle?</i></p> + +<p>The father of one of my fellow students was, as I have said before, +Baron de Trobriand, a very charming man of the old French aristocracy. +He came often to the home of Colonel Stebbins and always showed a great +deal of interest in my development. He knew Rachel very well; had known +her ever since her girlhood indeed, and always declared that I was the +image of her. As I look at my early portraits, I can see it myself a +little. In all of them I have a desperately serious expression as though +life were a tragedy. How well I remember the Baron and his wonderful +stories of France! He had some illustrious kindred, among them the +Duchesse de Berri, and we were never tired of his tales concerning her.</p> + +<p>I find, to-day, as I look through some of my old press notices, that +nice things were always said of me as an actress. Once, John Wallack, +Lester's father, came to hear me in <i>Fra Diavolo</i>, and exclaimed:</p> + +<p>"I wish to God that girl would lose her voice!"</p> + +<p>He wanted me to give up singing and go on the dramatic stage; and so did +Edwin Booth. I have a letter from Edwin Booth that I am more proud of +than almost anything I possess. But these incidents happened, of course, +later.</p> + +<p>From all I saw and all I heard I tried to learn and to keep on learning. +And so I prepared for the time of my own initial bow before the public. +As I gradually studied and developed, I began to feel more and more<a name="page_017" id="page_017"></a> +sure that I was destined to be a singer. I felt that it was my life and +my heritage; that I was made for it, and that nothing else could ever +satisfy me. And Muzio told me that I was right. In another six months I +would be ready to make my <i>début</i>. It was a serious time, when I faced +the future as a public singer, but I was very happy in the contemplation +of it.</p> + +<p>That summer I took a rest, preparatory to my first season,—how +thrillingly professional that sounded, to be sure!—and it was during +that summer that I had one of the most pleasant experiences of my +girlhood,—one really delightful and <i>young</i> experience, such as other +girls have,—a wonderful change from the hard-working, serious months of +study. I went to West Point for a visit. In spite of my sober +bringing-up, I was full of the joy of life, and loved the days spent in +a place filled with the military glamour that every girl adores.</p> + +<p>West Point was more primitive then than it is now. But it was just as +much fun. I danced, and watched the drill, and walked about, and made +friends with the cadets,—to whom the fact that they were entertaining a +budding <i>prima donna</i> was both exciting and interesting—and had about +the best time I ever had in my life.</p> + +<p>Looking back now, however, I can feel a shadow of sadness lying over the +memory of all that happy visit. We were just on the eve of war, little +as we young people thought of it, and many of the merry, good-looking +boys I danced with that summer fell at the front within the year. Some +of them entered the Union Army the following spring when war was +declared, and some went South to serve under the Stars<a name="page_018" id="page_018"></a> and Bars. Among +the former was Alec McCook—"Fighting McCook," as he was called. +Lieutenant McCreary was Southern, and was killed early in the war. So, +also, was the son of General Huger—the General Huger who was then +Postmaster General and later became a member of the Cabinet of the +Confederacy.</p> + +<p>It is interesting to consider that West Point, at the time of which I +write, was a veritable hotbed of conspiracy. The Southerners were +preparing hard and fast for action; the atmosphere teemed with plotting, +so that even I was vaguely conscious that something exceedingly serious +was going on. The Commandant of the Post, General Delafield, was an +officer of strong Southern sympathies and later went to fight in Dixie +land. When the war did finally break out, nearly all the ammunition was +down South; and this had been managed from West Point.</p> + +<p>Of course, all was done with great circumspection. Buchanan was a +Democratic president; and the Democrats of the South sent a delegation +to West Point to try to get the commanding officers to use their +influence in reducing the military course from four to three years. This +at least was their ostensible mission, and it made an excellent excuse +as well as offered great opportunities for what we Federal sympathisers +would call treason, but which they probably considered was justified by +patriotism. Indeed, James Buchanan was allotted a very difficult part in +the political affairs of the day; and the censure he received for what +is called his "vacillation" was somewhat unjust. He held that the +question of slavery and its abolition was not a national, but a local +problem; and he never took any firm stand about it. But the conditions +were bewilderingly<a name="page_019" id="page_019"></a> new and complex, and statesmen often suffer from +their very ability to look on both sides of a question.</p> + +<p>Jefferson Davis was then at West Point; and, as for "Mrs. Jeff"—I +always believed she was a spy. She had her niece and son with her at the +Point, the latter, "Jeff, Jr.," then a child of five or six years old. +He had the worst temper I ever imagined in a boy; and I am ashamed to +relate that the officers took a wicked delight in arousing and +exhibiting it. He used to sit several steps up on the one narrow +stairway of the hotel and swear the most horrible, hot oaths ever heard, +getting red in the face with fury. Alec McCook, assistant instructor and +a charming fellow of about thirty, would put him on a bucking donkey +that was there and say:</p> + +<p>"Now then, lad, don't you let him put you off!"</p> + +<p>And the "lad" would sit on the donkey, turning the air blue with +profanity. But one thing can be said for him: he did stick on!</p> + +<p>Lieutenant Horace Porter, who was among my friends of that early summer, +was destined to serve with distinction on the Northern side. I met him +not long ago, a dignified, distinguished General; and it was difficult +to see in him the high-spirited, young lieutenant of the old Point days.</p> + +<p>"Do you know," he said, "Mrs. Jeff Davis sent for me to come and see her +when she was in New York! <i>Of course</i> I didn't go!"</p> + +<p>He had not forgotten. One does not forget the things that happened just +before the war. The great struggle burned them too deeply into our +memories.</p> + +<p>Nothing would satisfy the cadets, who were aware that I was preparing to +go on the stage as a professional<a name="page_020" id="page_020"></a> singer, but that I should sing for +them. I was only too delighted to do so, but I didn't want to sing in +the hotel. So they turned their "hop-room" into a concert-hall for the +occasion and invited the officers and their friends, in spite of Mrs. +Jeff Davis, who tried her best to prevent the ball-room from being given +to us for our musicale. She did not attend; but the affair made her +exceedingly uncomfortable, for she disliked me and was jealous of the +kindness and attention I received from everyone. She always referred to +me as "that singing girl!"</p> + +<p>As I have said, many of those attractive West Point boys and officers +were killed in the war so soon to break upon us. Others, like General +Porter, have remained my friends. A few I have kept in touch with only +by hearsay. But throughout the Civil War I always felt a keener and more +personal interest in the battles because, for a brief space, I had come +so close to the men who were engaged in them; and the sentiment never +passed.</p> + +<p>Ever and ever so many years after that visit to West Point, a note came +behind the scenes to me during one of my performances, and with it was a +mass of exquisite flowers. "Please wear one of these flowers to-night!" +the note begged me. It was from one of the cadets to whom I had sung so +long before, but whom I had never seen since.</p> + +<p>I wore the flower: and I put my whole soul into my singing that night. +For that little episode of my girlhood, the meeting with those eager and +plucky young spirits just before our great national crisis, has always +been close to my heart. As for the three dark years that followed—ah, +well,—I never want to read about the war now.<a name="page_021" id="page_021"></a></p> + +<p class="figcenter"> +<a href="images/clara_as_a_girl_lg.jpg"> +<img src="images/clara_as_a_girl_sml.jpg" width="360" height="550" alt="Clara Louise Kellogg as a Girl + +From a photograph by Sarony" title="" /></a> +<br /> +<span class="caption"><b>Clara Louise Kellogg as a Girl</b><br /> + +From a photograph by Sarony</span> +</p> + +<p>It was almost time for my <i>début</i>, and there was still something I had +to do. To my sheltered, puritanically brought up consciousness, there +could be no two views among conventional people as to the life I was +about to enter upon. I knew all about it. So, a few weeks before I was +to make my professional bow to the public, I called my girl friends +together, the companions of four years' study, and I said to them:</p> + +<p>"Girls, I've made up my mind to go on the stage! I know just how your +people feel about it, and I want to tell you now that you needn't know +me any more. You needn't speak to me, nor bow to me if you meet me in +the street. I shall quite understand, and I shan't feel a bit badly. +<i>Because I think the day will come when you will be proud to know me!</i>"<a name="page_022" id="page_022"></a></p> + +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_III" id="CHAPTER_III"></a>CHAPTER III<br /><br /> +"LIKE A PICKED CHICKEN"</h2> + +<p class="nind"><span class="letra">B</span>EFORE my <i>début</i> in opera, Muzio took me out on a concert tour for a +few weeks. Colson was the <i>prima donna</i>, Brignoli the tenor, Ferri the +baritone, and Susini the basso. Susini had, I believe, distinguished +himself in the Italian Revolution. His name means <i>plums</i> in Italian, +and his voice as well as his name was rich and luscious.</p> + +<p>I was a general utility member of the company, and sang to fill in the +chinks. We sang four times a week, and I received twenty-five dollars +each time—that is, one hundred dollars a week—not bad for +inexperienced seventeen, although Muzio regarded the tour for me as +merely educational and part of my training.</p> + +<p>My mother travelled with me, for she never let me out of her sight. Yet, +even with her along, the experience was very strange and new and rather +terrifying. I had no knowledge of stage life, and that first <i>tournée</i> +was comprised of a series of shocks and surprises, most of them +disillusioning.</p> + +<p>We opened in Pittsburg, and it was there, at the old Monongahela House, +that I had my first exhibition of Italian temperament, or, rather, +temper!</p> + +<p>When we arrived, we found that the dining-room was officially closed. We +were tired out after a long hard trip of twenty-four hours, and, of +course, almost<a name="page_023" id="page_023"></a> starved. We got as far as the door, where we could look +in hungrily, but it was empty and dark. There were no waiters; there was +nothing, indeed, except the rows of neatly set tables for the next meal.</p> + +<p>Brignoli demanded food. He was very fond of eating, I recall. And, in +those days, he was a sort of little god in New York, where he lived in +much luxury. When affairs went well with him, he was not an unamiable +man; but he was a selfish egotist, with the devil's own temper on +occasion.</p> + +<p>The landlord approached and told us that the dinner hour was past, and +that we could not get anything to eat until the next meal, which would +be supper. And oh! if you only knew what supper was like in the +provincial hotel of that day!</p> + +<p>Brignoli was wild with wrath. He would start to storm and shout in his +rage, and would then suddenly remember his voice and subside, only to +begin again as his anger rose in spite of himself. It was really +amusing, though I doubt if anyone appreciated the joke at the moment.</p> + +<p>At last, as the landlord remained quite unmoved, Brignoli dashed into +the room, grabbed the cloth on one of the tables near the door and +pulled it off—dishes, silver, and all! The crash was terrific, and +naturally the china was smashed to bits.</p> + +<p>"You'll have to pay for that!" cried the landlord, indignantly.</p> + +<p>"Pay for it!" gasped Brignoli, waving his arms and fairly dancing with +rage, "of course I'll pay for it—just as I'll pay for the dinner, +if——"</p> + +<p>"What!" exclaimed the landlord, in a new tone, "you will pay <i>extra</i> for +the dinner, if we are willing to serve it for you now?"<a name="page_024" id="page_024"></a></p> + +<p>"<i>Dio mio</i>, yes!" cried Brignoli.</p> + +<p>The landlord stood and gaped at him.</p> + +<p>"Why didn't you say so in the first place?" he asked with a sort of +contemptuous pity, and went off to order the dinner.</p> + +<p>When will the American and the Italian temperaments begin to understand +each other!</p> + +<p>Brignoli was not only a fine singer but a really good musician. He told +me that he had given piano lessons in Paris before he began to sing at +all. But of his absolute origin he would never speak. He was a handsome +man, with ears that had been pierced for ear-rings. This led me to infer +that he had at some time been a sailor, although he would never let +anyone mention the subject. Anyhow, I always thought of Naples when I +looked at him.</p> + +<p>Most stage people have their pet superstitions. There seems to be +something in their make-up that lends itself to an interest in signs. +But Brignoli had a greater number of singular ones than any person I +ever met. He had, among other things, a mascot that he carried all over +the country. This was a stuffed deer's head, and it was always installed +in his dressing-room wherever he might be singing. When he sang well, he +would come back to the room and pat the deer's head approvingly. When he +was not in voice, he would pound it and swear at it in Italian.</p> + +<p>Brignoli lived for his voice. He adored it as if it were some phenomenon +for which he was in no sense responsible. And I am not at all sure that +this is not the right point of view for a singer. He always took +tremendous pains with his voice and the greatest possible care of +himself in every way, always eating huge quantities of raw oysters each +night before he<a name="page_025" id="page_025"></a> sang. The story is told of him that one day he fell off +a train. People rushed to pick him up, solicitous lest the great tenor's +bones were broken. But Brignoli had only one fear. Without waiting even +to rise to his feet, he sat up, on the ground where he had fallen, and +solemnly sang a bar or two. Finding his voice uninjured, he burst into +heartfelt prayers of thanks-giving, and climbed back into the car.</p> + +<p>Brignoli only just missed being very great. But he had the indolence of +the Neapolitan sailor, and he was, of course, sadly spoiled. Women were +always crazy about him, and he posed as an <i>élégante</i>. Years afterward, +when I heard of his death, I never felt the loss of any beautiful thing +as I did the loss of his voice. The thought came to me:—"and he hasn't +been able to leave it to anyone as a legacy—"</p> + +<p>But to return to our concert tour.</p> + +<p>I remember that the concert room in Pittsburg was over the town market. +That was what we had to contend with in those primitive days! Imagine +our little company of devoted and ambitious artists trying to create a +musical atmosphere one flight up, while they sold cabbages and fish +downstairs!</p> + +<p>The first evening was an important event for me, my initial public +appearance, and I recall quite distinctly that I sang the Cavatina from +<i>Linda di Chamounix</i>—which I was soon to sing operatically—and that I +wore a green dress. Green was an unusual colour in gowns then. Our young +singers generally chose white or blue or pink or something insipid; but +I had a very definite taste in clothes, and liked effects that were not +only pretty but also individual and becoming.</p> + +<p>Speaking of clothes, I learned on that first experimental<a name="page_026" id="page_026"></a> tour the +horrors of travel when it comes to keeping one's gowns fresh. I speedily +acquired the habit, practised ever since, of carrying a big crash cloth +about with me to spread on stages where I was to sing. This was not +entirely to keep my clothes clean, important as that was. It was also +for the sake of my voice and its effect. Few people know that the +floor-covering on which a singer stands makes a very great difference. +On carpets, for instance, one simply cannot get a good tone.</p> + +<p>Just before I went on for that first concert, Madame Colson stopped me +to put a rose in my hair, and said to me:</p> + +<p>"Smile much, and show your teeth!"</p> + +<p>After the concert she supplemented this counsel with the words:</p> + +<p>"Always dress your best, and always smile, and always be gracious!"</p> + +<p>I never forgot the advice.</p> + +<p>The idea of pretty clothes and a pretty smile is not merely a pose nor +an artificiality. It is likewise carrying out a spirit of courtesy. Just +as a hostess greets a guest cordially and tries to make her feel at +ease, so the tactful singer tries to show the people who have come to +hear her that she is glad to see them.</p> + +<p>Pauline Colson was a charming artist, a French soprano of distinction in +her own country and always delightful in her work. She had first come to +America to sing in the French Opera in New Orleans where, for many +years, there had been a splendid opera season each winter. She had just +finished her winter's work there when some northern impresario engaged +her for a brief season of opera in New York; and it was at the +termination of this that Muzio engaged her for our<a name="page_027" id="page_027"></a> concert tour. She +was one of the few artists who rebelled against the bad costuming then +prevalent; and it was said that for more than one of her <i>rôles</i> she +made her gowns herself, to be sure that they were correct. It was her +example that fired me in the revolutionary steps I was to take later +with regard to my own costumes.</p> + +<p>Our next stop was Cincinnati—<i>Cincinnata</i>, as it was called! I had +there one of the shocks of my life. The leading newspaper of the city, +in commenting on our concert, said of me that "this young girl's parents +ought to remove her from public view, do her up in cotton wool, nourish +her well, and not allow her to appear again until she looks less like a +picked chicken"!</p> + +<p>No one said anything about my voice! Indeed, I got almost no +encouragement before we reached Detroit, and I recall that I cried a +good part of the way between the two cities over my failure in +Cincinnati. But in Detroit Colson was taken ill, so I had a chance to do +the <i>prima donna</i> work of the occasion. And I profited by the chance, +for it was in Detroit that an audience first discovered that I had some +nascent ability.</p> + +<p>I <i>must</i> have been an odd, young creature—just five feet and four +inches tall, and weighing only one hundred and four pounds. I was frail +and big-eyed, and wrapped up in music (not cotton wool), and exceedingly +childlike for my age. I knew nothing of life, for my puritanical +surroundings and the way in which I had been brought up were developing +my personality very slowly.</p> + +<p>That was a hard tour. Indeed, all tours were hard in those days. +Travelling accommodations were limited and uncomfortable, and most of +the hotels were very bad. Trains were slow, and connections uncertain,<a name="page_028" id="page_028"></a> +and of course there was no such thing as a Pullman or, much less, a +dining-car. Sometimes we had to sit up all night and were not able to +get anything to eat, not infrequently arriving too late for the meal +hour of the hotel where we were to stop. The journeys were so long and +so difficult that they used to say Pauline Lucca always travelled in her +nightgown and a black velvet wrapper.</p> + +<p>All through that tour, as during every period of my life, I was working +and studying and practising and learning: trying to improve my voice, +trying to develop my artistic consciousness, trying to fit myself in a +hundred ways for my career. Work never frightened me; there was always +in me the desire to express myself—and to express that self as fully +and as variously as I might have opportunity for doing.</p> + +<p>It sometimes seems to me that one of the strangest things in this world +is the realisation that there is never time to perfect everything in us; +that we carry seeds in our souls that cannot flower in one short life. +Perhaps Paradise will be a place where we can develop every possibility +and become our complete selves.</p> + +<p>In one's brain and one's soul lies the power to do almost anything. I +believe that the psychological phenomena we hear so much about are +nothing but undiscovered forces in ourselves. I am not a spiritualist. I +do not care for so-called supernatural manifestations. Many of my +friends have been interested in such matters, and I was taken to the +celebrated "Stratford Knockings" and other mediumistic demonstrations +when I was a mere child; but it has never seemed to me that the marvels +I encountered came from an outside spiritual agency. I believe, +profoundly, that, one and all, they are the workings of forces in <i>us</i> +that<a name="page_029" id="page_029"></a> we have not yet learned to develop fully nor to use wisely.</p> + +<p class="figcenter"> +<a href="images/clara_as_young_lady_lg.jpg"> +<img src="images/clara_as_young_lady_sml.jpg" width="368" height="550" alt="Clara Louise Kellogg as a Young Lady + +From a photograph by Black & Case" title="" /></a> +<br /> +<span class="caption"><b>Clara Louise Kellogg as a Young Lady</b><br /> + +From a photograph by Black & Case</span> +</p> + +<p>I never did anything in my life without study. The ancient axiom that +"what is worth doing at all is worth doing well" is more of a truth than +most people understand. The thing that one has chosen for one's life +work in the world:—what labour could be too great for it, or what too +minute?</p> + +<p>When I knew that I was to make my <i>début</i> as Gilda, in Verdi's opera of +<i>Rigoletto</i>, I settled down to put myself into that part. I studied for +nine months, until I was not certain whether I was really Gilda—or only +myself!</p> + +<p>I was taking lessons in acting with Scola then, in addition to my +musical study. And, besides Scola's regular course, I closely observed +the methods of individuals, actors, and singers. I remember seeing +Brignoli in <i>I Puritani</i>, during that "incubating period" before my +first appearance in opera. I was studying gesture then,—the free, +simple, <i>inevitable</i> gesture that is so necessary to a natural effect in +dramatic singing; and during the beautiful melody, <i>A te, o cara</i>, which +he sang in the first act, Brignoli stood still in one spot and thrust +first one arm out, and then the other, at right angles from his body, +twenty-three consecutive times. I counted them, and I don't know how +many times he had done it before I began to count!</p> + +<p>"Heavens!" I said, "that's one thing not to do, anyway!"</p> + +<p>Languages were a very important part of my training. I had studied +French when I was nine years old, in the country, and as soon as I began +taking singing lessons I began Italian also. Much later, when I sang in +<i>Les Noces de Jeannette</i>, people would speak of my<a name="page_030" id="page_030"></a> French and ask where +I had studied. But it was all learned at home.</p> + +<p>I never studied German. There was less demand for it in music than there +is now. America practically had no "German opera;" and Italian was the +accepted tongue of dramatic and tragic music, as French was the language +of lighter and more popular operas. Besides, German always confused me; +and I never liked it.</p> + +<p>Many years later than the time of which I am now writing, I was charmed +to be confirmed in my anti-German prejudices when I went to Paris. After +the Franco-Prussian War the signs and warnings in that city were put up +in every language in the world except German! The German way of putting +things was too long; and, furthermore, the French people didn't care if +Germans did break their legs or get run over.</p> + +<p>Of course, all this is changed—and in music most of all. For example, +there could be no greater convert to Wagnerism than I!</p> + +<p>My mother hated the atmosphere of the theatre even though she had wished +me to become a singer, and always gloried in my successes. To her rigid +and delicate instinct there was something dreadful in the free and easy +artistic attitude, and she always stood between me and any possible +intimacy with my fellow-singers. I believe this to have been a mistake. +Many traditions of the stage come to one naturally and easily through +others; but I had to wait and learn them all by experience. I was always +working as an outsider, and, naturally, this attitude of ours +antagonised singers with whom we appeared.</p> + +<p>Not only that. My brain would have developed much more rapidly if I had +been allowed—no, if I had<a name="page_031" id="page_031"></a> been <i>obliged</i> to be more self-reliant. To +profit by one's own mistakes;—all the world's history goes to show that +is the only way to learn. By protecting me, my mother really robbed me +of much precious experience. For how many years after I had made my +<i>début</i> would she wait for me in the <i>coulisses</i>, ready to whisk me off +to my dressing-room before any horrible opera singer had a chance to +talk with me!</p> + +<p>Yet she grieved for my forfeited youth—did my dear mother. She always +felt that I was being sacrificed to my work, and just at the time when I +would have most delighted in my girlhood. Of course, I was obliged to +live a life of labour and self-denial, but it was not quite so difficult +for me as she felt it to be, or as other people sometimes thought it +was. Not only did I adore my music, and look forward to my work as an +artist, but I literally never had any other life. I knew nothing of what +I had given up; and so was happy in what I had undertaken, as no girl +could have been happy who had lived a less restricted, hard-working and +yet dream-filled existence.</p> + +<p>My mother was very strait-laced and puritanical, as I have said, and, +naturally, by reflection and association, I was the same. I lay stress +on this because I want one little act of mine to be appreciated as a +sign of my ineradicable girlishness and love of beauty. When I earned my +first money, I went to Mme. Percival's, the smart lingerie shop of New +York, and bought the three most exquisite chemises I could find, +imported and trimmed with real lace!</p> + +<p>I daresay this harmless ebullition of youthful daintiness would have +proved the last straw to some of my Psalm-singing New England relatives. +There was one uncle of mine who vastly disapproved of my going on<a name="page_032" id="page_032"></a> the +stage at all, saying that it would have been much better if I had been a +good, honest milliner. He used to sing:</p> + +<p class="figcenter"> +<a href="images/ill_pg_032_lg.png"> +<img src="images/ill_pg_032_sml.png" width="550" height="113" alt="Musical notation; "Broad is the road That leads to +Hell!"" title="musical notation" /></a> +</p> + +<p class="nind">in a minor key, with the true, God-fearing, nasal twang in it.</p> + +<p>How I detested that old man! And I had to bury him, too, at the last. I +wonder whether I should have been able to do so if I had gone into the +millinery business!<a name="page_033" id="page_033"></a></p> + +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_IV" id="CHAPTER_IV"></a>CHAPTER IV<br /><br /> +A YOUTHFUL REALIST</h2> + +<p class="nind"><span class="letra">A</span>S I have said, I studied Gilda for nine months. At the end of that time +I was so imbued with the part as to be thoroughly at ease. Present-day +actors call this condition "getting inside the skin" of a <i>rôle</i>. I +simply could not make a mistake, and could do everything connected with +the characterisation with entire unconsciousness. Yet I want to add that +I had little idea of what the opera really meant.</p> + +<p>My <i>début</i> was in New York at the old Academy of Music, and Rigoletto +was the famous Ferri. He was blind in one eye and I had always to be on +his seeing side,—else he couldn't act. Stigelli was the tenor. Stiegel +was his real name. He was a German and a really fine artist. But I had +then had no experience with stage heroes and thought they were all going +to be exactly as they appeared in my romantic dreams, and—poor man, he +is dead now, so I can say this!—it was a dreadful blow to me to be +obliged to sing a love duet with a man smelling of lager beer and +cheese!</p> + +<p>Charlotte Cushman—who was a great friend of Miss Emma Stebbins, the +sister of Colonel Stebbins—had always been interested in me; so when +she knew that I was to make my <i>début</i> on February 26 (1861),<a name="page_034" id="page_034"></a> she put +on <i>Meg Merrilies</i> for that night because she could get through with it +early enough for her to see part of my first performance. She reached +the Academy in time for the last act of <i>Rigoletto</i>; and I felt that I +had been highly praised when, as I came out and began to sing, she +cried:</p> + +<p>"The girl doesn't seem to know that she has any arms!"</p> + +<p>My freedom of gesture and action came from nothing but the most complete +familiarity with the part and with the detail of everything I had to do. +In opera one cannot be too temperamental in one's acting. One cannot +make pauses when one thinks it effective, nor alter the stage business +to fit one's mood, nor work oneself up to an emotional crescendo one +night and not do it the next. Everything has to be timed to a second and +a fraction of a second. One cannot wait for unusual effects. The +orchestra does not consider one's temperament, and this fact cannot be +lost sight of for a moment. This is why I believe in rehearsing and +studying and working over a <i>rôle</i> so exhaustively—and exhaustingly. +For it is only in that most rigidly studied accuracy of action that any +freedom can be attained. When one becomes so trained that one cannot +conceivably retard a bar, and cannot undertime a stage cross nor fail to +come in promptly in an <i>ensemble</i>, then, and only then, can one reach +some emotional liberty and inspiration.</p> + +<p>If I had not worked so hard at Gilda I should never have got through +that first performance. I was not consciously nervous, but my throat—it +is quite impossible to tell in words how my throat felt. I have heard +singers describe the first-night sensation variously,—a tongue that +felt stiff, a palate like a hot griddle,<a name="page_035" id="page_035"></a> and so on. My throat and my +tongue were dry and thick and woolly, like an Oriental rug with a "pile" +so deep and heavy that, if water is spilled on it, the water does not +soak in, but lies about the surface in globules,—just a dry and +unabsorbing carpet.</p> + +<p>My mother was with me behind the scenes; and my grandmother was in front +to see me in all my stage grandeur. I am afraid I did not care +particularly where either of them were. Certainly I had no thought for +anyone who might be seated out in the Great Beyond on the far side of +the footlights. I sang the second act in a dream, unconscious of any +audience:—hardly conscious of the music or of myself—going through it +all mechanically. But the sub-conscious mind had been at work all the +time. As I was changing my costume after the second act, my mother said +to me:</p> + +<p>"I cannot find your grandmother anywhere. I have been looking and +peeping through the hole in the curtain and from the wings, but I cannot +seem to discover where she is sitting."</p> + +<p>Hardly thinking of the words, I answered at once:</p> + +<p>"She is over there to the left, about three rows back, near a pillar."</p> + +<p>The criticisms of the press next day said that my most marked specialty +was my ability to strike a tone with energy. I liked better, however, +one kindly reviewer who observed that my voice was "cordial to the +heart!" The newspapers found my stage appearance peculiar. There was +about it "a marked development of the intellectual at the expense of the +physical to which her New England birth may afford a key." The man who +wrote this was quite correct. He had discovered the Puritan maid behind +the stage trappings of Gilda.<a name="page_036" id="page_036"></a></p> + +<p>If omens count for anything I ought to have had a disastrous first +season, for everything went wrong during that opening week. I lost a +bracelet of which I was particularly fond; I fell over a stick in making +an entrance and nearly went on my head; and at the end of the third act +of the second performance of <i>Rigoletto</i> the curtain failed to come +down, and I was obliged to stay in a crouching attitude until it could +be put into working order again. But these trying experiences were not +auguries of failure or of disaster. In fact my public grew steadily +kinder to me, although it hung back a little until after Marguerite. +Audiences were not very cordial to new singers. They distrusted their +own judgment; and I don't altogether wonder that they did.</p> + +<p>The week after my <i>début</i> we went to Boston to sing. Boston would not +have <i>Rigoletto</i>. It was considered objectionable, particularly the +ending. For some inexplicable reason <i>Linda di Chamounix</i> was expected +to be more acceptable to the Bostonian public, and so I was to sing the +part of Linda instead of that of Gilda. I had been working on Linda +during a part of the year in which I studied Gilda, and was quite equal +to it. The others of the company went to Boston ahead of me, and I +played Linda at a <i>matinée</i> in New York before following them. This was +the first time I sang in opera with Brignoli. I went on in the part with +only one rehearsal. Opera-goers do not hear <i>Linda</i> any more, but it is +a graceful little opera with some pretty music and a really charmingly +poetic story. It was taken from the French play, <i>La Grâce de Dieu</i>, and +<i>Rigoletto</i> was taken from Victor Hugo's <i>Le Roi S'Amuse</i>. The story of +<i>Linda</i> is that of a Swiss peasant girl of Chamounix who<a name="page_037" id="page_037"></a> falls in love +with a French noble whom she has met as a strolling painter in her +village. He returns to Paris and she follows him there, walking all the +way and accompanied by a faithful rustic, Pierotto, who loves her +humbly. He plays a hurdy-gurdy and Linda sings, and so the poor young +vagrants pay their way. In Paris the nobleman finds her and lavishes all +manner of jewels and luxuries upon little Linda, but at last abandons +her to make a rich marriage. On the same day that she hears the news of +her lover's wedding her father comes to her house in Paris and denounces +her. She goes mad, of course. Most operatic heroines did go mad in those +days. And, in the last act, the peasant lover with the hurdy-gurdy takes +her back to Chamounix among the hills. On the lengthy journey he can +lure her along only by playing a melody that she knows and loves. It is +a dear little story; but I never could comprehend how Boston was induced +to accept the second act since they drew the line at <i>Rigoletto</i>!</p> + +<p>I liked Linda and wanted to give a truthful and appealing impersonation +of her. But the handicaps of those days of crude and primitive theatre +conditions were really almost insurmountable. Now, with every assistance +of wonderful staging, exquisite costuming, and magical lighting, the +artist may rest upon his or her surroundings and accessories and know +that everything possible to art has been brought together to enhance the +convincing effect. In the old days at the Academy, however, we had no +system of lighting except glaring footlights and perhaps a single, +unimaginative calcium. We had no scenery worthy the name; and as for +costumes, there were just three sets called by the theatre <i>costumier</i> +"Paysannes" (peasant dress); "Norma" (they did not know enough even to<a name="page_038" id="page_038"></a> +call it "classic"); and "Rich!" The last were more or less of the Louis +XIV period and could be slightly modified for various operas. These +three sets were combined and altered as required. Yet, of course, the +audiences were correspondingly unexacting. They were so accustomed to +nothing but primitive effects that the simplest touch of true realism +surprised and delighted them. Once during a performance of <i>Il Barbiere</i> +the man who was playing the part of Don Basilio sent his hat out of +doors to be snowed on. It was one of those Spanish shovel hats, long and +square-edged, like a plank. When he wore it in the next act, all white +with snowflakes from the blizzard outside, the audience was so simple +and childlike that it roared with pleasure, "Why, it's <i>real</i> snow!"</p> + +<p>It was also the time when hoop skirts were universally fashionable, so +we all wore hoops, no matter what the period we were supposed to be +representing. Scola first showed me how to fall gracefully in a hoop +skirt, not in the least an easy feat to accomplish; and I shall always +remember seeing Mme. de la Grange go to bed in one, in her sleep-walking +scene in <i>Sonnambula</i>. Indeed, there was no illusion nor enchantment to +help one in those elementary days. One had to conquer one's public alone +and unaided.</p> + +<p>I confided myself at first to the hands of the <i>costumier</i> with +characteristic truthfulness. I had considered the musical and dramatic +aspects of the part; it did not occur to me that the clothes would +become my responsibility as well. That theatre <i>costumier</i> at the +Academy, I found, could not even cut a skirt. Linda's was a strange +affair, very long on the sides, and startlingly short in front. But this +was the least of my troubles on the afternoon of that first <i>matinée</i><a name="page_039" id="page_039"></a> +in New York. When it came to the last act—there having been no +rehearsals, and my experience being next to nothing—I asked innocently +for my costume, and was told that I would have to wear the same dress I +had worn in the first act.</p> + +<p>"But, I can't!" I gasped. "That fresh, new gown, after months are +supposed to have gone by!—when Linda has walked and slept in it during +the whole journey!"</p> + +<p>"No one will think of that," I was assured.</p> + +<p>But <i>I</i> thought of it and simply could not put on that clean dress for +poor Linda's travel-worn last act. I sent for an old shawl from the +chorus and ripped my costume into rags. By this time the orchestra was +almost at the opening bars of the third act and there was not a moment +to lose. Suddenly I looked at my shoes and nearly collapsed with +despair. One always provided one's own foot-gear and the shoes I had on +were absolutely the only pair of the sort required that I possessed; +neat little slippers, painfully new and clean. We had not gone to any +extra expense, in case I did not happen to make a success that would +justify it, and that was the reason I had only the one pair. Well—there +was a moment's struggle before I attacked my pretty shoes—but my +passion for realism triumphed. I sent a man out into Fourteenth Street +at the stage door of the Academy and had him rub those immaculate +slippers in the gutter until they were thoroughly dirty, so that when I +wore them onto the stage three minutes later they looked as if I had +really walked to Paris and back in them.</p> + +<p>The next day the newspapers said that the part of Linda had never before +been sung with so much pathos.</p> + +<p>"Aha!" said I, "that's my old clothes! That's my dirt!"<a name="page_040" id="page_040"></a></p> + +<p>I had learned that the more you look your part the less you have to act. +The observance of this truth was always Henry Irving's great strength. +The more completely you get inside a character the less, also, are you +obliged to depend on brilliant vocalism. Mary Garden is a case in point. +She is not a great singer, although she sings better than she is +credited with doing or her voice could not endure as much as it does, +but above all she is intelligent and an artistic realist, taking care +never to lose the spirit of her <i>rôle</i>. Renaud is one of the few men I +have ever seen in opera who was willing to wear dirty clothes if they +chanced to be in character. I shall never forget Jean de Reszke in +<i>L'Africaine</i>. In the Madagascar scene, just after the rescue from the +foundered vessel, he appeared in the most beautiful fresh tights +imaginable and a pair of superb light leather boots. Indeed, the most +distinguished performance becomes weak and valueless if the note of +truth is lacking.</p> + +<p>Theodore Thomas was the first violin in the Academy at the time of which +I am writing, and not a very good one either. The director was +Maretzek—"Maretzek the Magnificent" as he was always called, for he was +very handsome and had a vivid and compelling personality—on whom be +benisons, for it was he who, later, suggested the giving of <i>Faust</i>, and +me for the leading <i>rôle</i>.</p> + +<p>I was not popular with my fellow-artists and did not have a very +pleasant time preparing and rehearsing for my first parts. The chorus +was made up of Italians who never studied their music, merely learned it +at rehearsal, and the rehearsals themselves were often farcical. The +Italians of the chorus were always bitter against me for, up to that +time, Italians had had the<a name="page_041" id="page_041"></a> monopoly of music. It was not generally +conceded that Americans could appreciate, much less interpret opera; and +I, as the first American <i>prima donna</i>, was in the position of a +foreigner in my own country. The chorus, indeed, could sometimes hardly +contain themselves. "Who is she," they would demand indignantly, "to +come and take the bread out of our mouths?"</p> + +<p>One other person in the company who never gave me a kind word (although +she was not an Italian) was Adelaide Phillips, the contralto. She was a +fine artist and had been singing for many years, so, perhaps, it galled +her to have to "support" a younger countrywoman. When it came to +dividing the honours she was not at all pleased. As Maddalena in +<i>Rigoletto</i> she was very plain; but when she did Pierotto, the boyish, +rustic lover in <i>Linda</i>, she looked well. She had the most perfectly +formed pair of legs—ankles, feet and all—that I ever saw on a woman.</p> + +<p>In singing with Brignoli there developed a difficulty to which Ferri's +blindness was nothing. Brignoli seriously objected to being touched +during his scene! Imagine playing love scenes with a tenor who did not +want to be touched, no matter what might be the emotional exigencies of +the moment or situation. The bass part in <i>Linda</i> is that of the Baron, +and when I first sang the opera it was taken by Susini, who had been +with us on our preparatory <i>tournée</i>. His wife was Isabella Hinckley, a +good and sweet woman, also a singer with an excellent soprano voice. I +found that the big basso (he was a very large man with a buoyant sense +of humour) was a fine actor and had a genuine dramatic gift in singing. +His sense of humour was always bubbling up, in and out of performances. +I once lost a diamond from one of my rings during the<a name="page_042" id="page_042"></a> first act. My +dressing-room and the stage were searched, but with no result. We went +on for the last act and, in the scene when I was supposed to be +unconscious, Susini caught sight of the stone glittering on the floor +and picked it up. As he needed his hands for gesticulations, he popped +the diamond into his mouth and when I "came to" he stuck out his tongue +at me with the stone on the end of it!</p> + +<p>While I was working on the part of Linda myself, I heard Mme. Medori +sing it. She gave a fine emotional interpretation, getting great tragic +effects in the Paris act, but she did not catch the <i>naïve</i> and +ingenuous quality of poor, young Linda. It could hardly have been +otherwise, for she was at the time a mature woman. There are some +parts,—Marguerite is one of them, also,—that can be made too +complicated, too subtle, too dramatic. I was criticised for my +immaturity and lack of emotional power until I was tired of hearing such +criticism; and once had a quaint little argument about my abilities and +powers with "Nym Crinkle," the musical critic of <i>The World</i>, A. C. +Wheeler. (Later he made a success in literature under the name of "J. P. +Mowbray.")</p> + +<p>"What do you expect," I demanded, in my old-fashioned yet childish way, +being at the time eighteen, "what do you expect of a person of my age?"</p> + +<p class="figcenter"> +<a href="images/brignoli_lg.jpg"> +<img src="images/brignoli_sml.jpg" width="378" height="550" alt="Brignoli, 1865 + +From a photograph by C. Silvy" title="" /></a> +<br /> +<span class="caption"><b>Brignoli, 1865</b><br /> + +From a photograph by C. Silvy</span> +</p> + +<p><a name="page_043" id="page_043"></a></p> + +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_V" id="CHAPTER_V"></a>CHAPTER V<br /><br /> +LITERARY BOSTON</h2> + +<p class="nind"><span class="letra">M</span>Y friends in New York had given me letters to people in Boston, so I +went there with every opportunity for an enjoyable visit. But, +naturally, I was much more absorbed in my own <i>début</i> and in what the +public would think of me than I was in meeting new acquaintances and +receiving invitations. Now I wish that I had then more clearly realised +possibilities, for Boston was at the height of its literary reputation. +All my impressions of that Boston season, however, sink into +insignificance compared to that of my first public appearance. I sang +Linda; and there were only three hundred people in the house!</p> + +<p>If anything in the world could have discouraged me that would have, but, +as a matter of fact, I do not believe anything could. At any rate, I +worked all the harder just because the conditions were so adverse; and I +won my public (such as it was) that night. I may add that I kept it for +the remainder of my stay in Boston.</p> + +<p>At that period of my life I was very fragile and one big performance +would wear me out. Literally, I used myself up in singing, for I put +into it every ounce of my strength. I could not save myself when I was +actually working, but my way of economising my vitality was to sing only +twice a week.<a name="page_044" id="page_044"></a></p> + +<p>It was after that first performance of <i>Linda</i>, some time about +midnight, and my mother and I had just returned to our apartment in the +Tremont House and had hardly taken off our wraps, when a knock came at +the door. Our sitting-room was near a side entrance for the sake of +quietness and privacy, but we paid a penalty in the ease with which we +could be reached by anyone who knew the way. My mother opened the door; +and there stood two ladies who overwhelmed us with gracious speeches. +"They had heard my Linda! They had come because they simply could not +help it; because I had moved them so deeply! Now, <i>would</i> we both come +the following evening to a little <i>musicale</i>; and they would ask that +delightful Signor Brignoli too! It would be <i>such</i> a pleasure! etc."</p> + +<p>Although I was not singing the following night, I objected to going to +the <i>musicale</i> because certain experiences in New York had already bred +caution. I said, however, with perfect frankness, that I would go on one +condition.</p> + +<p>"On <i>any</i> condition, dear Miss Kellogg!"</p> + +<p>"You wouldn't expect me to sing?"</p> + +<p>"Oh no; no, no!"</p> + +<p>Accordingly, the next night my mother and I presented ourselves at the +house of the older of the two ladies. The first words our hostess +uttered when I entered the room were:</p> + +<p>"Why! where's your music?"</p> + +<p>"I thought it was understood that I was not to sing," said I.</p> + +<p>But, in spite of their previous earnest disclaimers on this point, they +became so insistent that, after resisting their importunities for a few +moments, I finally consented to satisfy them. I asked Brignoli<a name="page_045" id="page_045"></a> to play +for me, and I sang the Cavatina from <i>Linda</i>. Then I turned on my heel +and went back to my hotel; and I never again entered that woman's house. +After so many years there is no harm in saying that the hostess who was +guilty of this breach of tact, good taste, and consideration, was Mrs. +Paran Stevens, and the other lady was her sister, Miss Fanny Reed, one +of the talented amateurs of the day. They were struggling hard for +social recognition in Boston and every drawing card was of value, even a +new, young singer who might become famous. Later, of course, Mrs. +Stevens did "arrive" in New York; but she travelled some difficult roads +first.</p> + +<p>This was by no means the first time that I had contended with a lack of +consideration in the American hostess, especially toward artists. Her +sisters across the Atlantic have better taste and breeding, never +subjecting an artist who is their guest to the annoyance and indignity +of having to "sing for her supper." But whenever I was invited anywhere +by an American woman, I always knew that I would be expected to bring my +music and to contribute toward the entertainment of the other guests. An +Englishwoman I once met when travelling on the Continent hit the nail on +the head, although in quite another connection.</p> + +<p>"You Americans are so queer," she remarked. "I heard a woman from the +States ask a perfectly strange man recently to stop in at a shop and +match her some silk while he was out! I imagine it is because you don't +mind putting yourselves under obligations, isn't it?"</p> + +<p>Literary Boston of that day revolved around Mr. and Mrs. James T. +Fields, at whose house often assembled such distinguished men and women +as Emerson,<a name="page_046" id="page_046"></a> Longfellow, Oliver Wendell Holmes, Lowell, Anthony +Trollope, Harriet Beecher Stowe, and Julia Ward Howe. Mr. Fields was the +editor of <i>The Atlantic Monthly</i>, and his sense of humour was always a +delight.</p> + +<p>"A lady came in from the suburbs to see me this morning," he once +remarked to me. "'Well, Mr. Fields,' she said, with great +impressiveness, 'what have you new in literature to-day? I'm just +<i>thusty</i> for knowledge!'"</p> + +<p>Your true New Englander always says "thust" and "fust" and "wust," and +Mr. Fields had just the intonation—which reminds me somehow—in a +roundabout fashion—of a strange woman who battered on my door once +after I had appeared in <i>Faust</i>, in Boston, to tell me that "that man +Mephisto-fleas was just great!"</p> + +<p>It was a wonderful privilege to meet Longfellow. He was never gay, never +effusive, leaving these attributes to his talkative brother-in-law, Tom +Appleton, who was a wit and a humourist. Indeed, Longfellow was rather +noted for his cold exterior, and it took a little time and trouble to +break the ice, but, though so unexpressive outwardly, his nature was +most winning when one was once in touch with it. His first wife was +burned to death and the tragedy affected him permanently, although he +made a second and a very successful marriage with Tom Appleton's sister. +The brothers-in-law were often together and formed the oddest possible +contrast to each other.</p> + +<p class="figcenter"> +<a href="images/james_lowell_lg.jpg"> +<img src="images/james_lowell_sml.jpg" width="349" height="550" alt="James Russell Lowell in 1861 + +From a photograph by Brady" title="" /></a> +<br /> +<span class="caption"><b>James Russell Lowell in 1861</b><br /> + +From a photograph by Brady</span> +</p> + +<p>Longfellow and I became good friends. I saw him many times and often +went to his house to sing to him. He greatly enjoyed my singing of his +own <i>Beware</i>. It was always one of my successful <i>encore</i> songs, +although it certainly is not Longfellow at his best. But he<a name="page_047" id="page_047"></a> liked me +to sit at the piano and wander from one song to another. The older the +melodies, the sweeter he found them. Longfellow's verses have much in +common with simple, old-fashioned songs. They always touched the common +people, particularly the common people of England. They were so simple +and so true that those folk who lived and laboured close to the earth +found much that moved them in the American writer's unaffected and +elemental poetry. Yet it seems a bit strange that his poems are more +loved and appreciated in England than in America, much as Tennyson's are +more familiar to us than to his own people. Some years later, when I was +singing in London, I heard that Longfellow was in town and sent him a +box. He and Tom Appleton, who was with him, came behind the scenes +between the acts to see me and, my mother being with me, both were +invited into my dressing-room. In the London theatres there are women, +generally advanced in years, who assist the <i>prima donna</i> or actress to +dress. These do not exist in American theatres. I had a maid, of course, +but there was this woman of the theatre, also, a particularly ordinary +creature who contributed nothing to the gaiety of nations and who, +indeed, rarely showed feeling of any sort. I happened to say to her:</p> + +<p>"Perkins, I am going to see Mr. Longfellow."</p> + +<p>Her face became absolutely transfigured.</p> + +<p>"Oh, Miss," she cried in a tone of awe and curtseying to his name, "you +don't mean 'im that wrote <i>Tell me not in mournful numbers</i>? Oh, Miss! +<i>'im!</i>"</p> + +<p>Lowell I knew only slightly, yet his distinguished and distinctive +personality made a great impression on me. Thomas Bailey Aldrich, a +blond, curly-headed young man, whose later prosperity greatly +interfered<a name="page_048" id="page_048"></a> with his ability, I first met about this same time. He was +too successful too young, and it stultified his gifts, as being +successful too young usually does stultify the natural gifts of anybody. +On one occasion I met Anthony Trollope at the Fields', the English +novelist whose works were then more or less in vogue. He had just come +from England and was filled with conceit. English people of that time +were incredibly insular and uninformed about us, and Mr. Trollope knew +nothing of America, and did not seem to want to know anything. +Certainly, English people when they are not thoroughbred can be very +common! Trollope was full of himself and wrote only for what he could +get out of it. I never, before or since, met a literary person who was +so frankly "on the make." The discussion that afternoon was about the +recompense of authors, and Trollope said that he had reduced his +literary efforts to a working basis and wrote so many words to a page +and so many pages to a chapter. He refrained from using the actual word +"money"—the English shrink from the word "money"—but he managed to +convey to his hearers the fact that a considerable consideration was the +main incentive to his literary labour, and put the matter more +specifically later, to my mother, by telling her that he always <i>chose +the words that would fill up the pages quickest</i>.</p> + +<p>Nathaniel Hawthorne, though he was one of the Fields' circle, I never +met at all. He was tragically shy, and more than once escaped from the +house when we went in rather than meet two strange women.</p> + +<p>"Hawthorne has just gone out the other way," Mrs. Fields would whisper, +smiling. "He's too frightened to meet you!"<a name="page_049" id="page_049"></a></p> + +<p>I met his boy Julian, however, who was about twelve years old. He was a +nice lad and I kissed him—to his great annoyance, for he was shy too, +although not so much so as his father. Not so very long ago Julian +Hawthorne reminded me of this episode.</p> + +<p>"Do you remember," he said, laughing, "how embarrassed I was when you +kissed me? 'Never you mind' you said to me then, 'the time will come, my +boy, when you'll be glad to remember that I kissed you!' And it +certainly did come!"</p> + +<p>All Boston that winter was stirred by the approaching agitations of war; +and those two remarkable women, Mrs. Stowe and Mrs. Howe were using +their pens to excite the community into a species of splendid rage. I +first met them both at the Fields' and always admired Julia Ward Howe as +a representative type of the highest Boston culture. Harriet Beecher +Stowe had just finished <i>Uncle Tom's Cabin</i>. Many people believed that +it and the disturbance it made were partly responsible for the war +itself. Mr. Fields told me that her "copy" was the most remarkable +"stuff" that the publishers had ever encountered. It was written quite +roughly and disconnectedly on whatever scraps of paper she had at hand. +I suppose she wrote it when the spirit moved her. At any rate, Mr. +Fields said it was the most difficult task imaginable to fit it into any +form that the printers could understand. Mrs. Stowe was a quiet, elderly +woman, and talked very little. I had an odd sort of feeling that she had +put so much of herself into her book that she had nothing left to offer +socially.</p> + +<p>I did not realise until years afterwards what a precious privilege it +was to meet in such a charming <i>intime</i> way the men and women who really +"made"<a name="page_050" id="page_050"></a> American literature. The Fields literally kept open house. They +were the most hospitable of people, and I loved them and spent some +happy hours with them. I cannot begin to enumerate or even to remember +all the literary lights I met in their drawing-room. Of that number +there were James Freeman Clarke, Harriet Prescott Spofford, whom I knew +later in Washington, and Gail Hamilton who was just budding into +literary prominence; and Sidney Lanier. But, as I look back on that +first Boston engagement, I see plainly that the most striking impression +made upon my youthful mind during the entire season was the opening +night of <i>Linda di Chamounix</i> and the three hundred auditors!</p> + +<p>It was long, long after that first season that I had some of my +pleasantest times in Boston with Sidney Lanier. This may not be the +right place to mention them, but they certainly belong under the heading +of this chapter.</p> + +<p>The evening that stands out most clearly in my memory was one, in the +'seventies, that I spent at the house of dear Charlotte Cushman who was +then very ill and who died almost immediately after. Sidney Lanier was +there with his flute, which he played charmingly. Indeed, he was as much +musician as poet, as anyone who knows his verse must realise. He was +poor then, and Miss Cushman was interested in him and anxious to help +him in every way she could. There were two dried-up, little, Boston old +maids there too—queer creatures—who were much impressed with High Art +without knowing anything about it. One composition that Lanier played +somewhat puzzled me—my impertinent absolute pitch was, as usual, hard +at work—and at the end I exclaimed:<a name="page_051" id="page_051"></a></p> + +<p>"That piece doesn't end in the same key in which it begins!"</p> + +<p>Lanier looked surprised and said:</p> + +<p>"No, it doesn't. It is one of my own compositions."</p> + +<p>He thought it remarkable that I could catch the change of key in such a +long and intricately modulated piece of music. The little old maids of +Boston were somewhat scandalised by my effrontery; but there was even +more to come. After another lovely thing which he played for us, I was +so impressed by the rare tone of his instrument that I asked:</p> + +<p>"Is that a Böhm flute?"</p> + +<p>He, being a musician, was delighted with the implied compliment; but the +old ladies saw in my question only a shocking slight upon his execution. +Turning to one another they ejaculated with one voice, and that one +filled with scorn and pity:</p> + +<p>"She thinks it's the <i>flute</i>!"</p> + +<p>This difference between professionals and the laity is odd. The more +enchanted a professional is with another artist's performance, the more +technical interest and curiosity he feels. The amateur only knows how to +rhapsodise. This seems to be so in everything. When someone rides in an +automobile for the first time he only thinks how exciting it is and how +fast he is going. The experienced motorist immediately wants to know +what sort of engine the machine has, and how many cylinders.</p> + +<p>I have always loved a flute. It is a difficult instrument to play with +colour and variety. It is not like the violin, on which one can get +thirds, and sixths, and sevenths, by using the arpeggio: it is a single, +thin tone and can easily become monotonous if not played skilfully. +Furthermore, there are only certain pieces of<a name="page_052" id="page_052"></a> music that ever ought to +be played on it. Wagner uses the flute wonderfully. He never lets it +bore his audience. The Orientals have brought flute playing and flute +music to a fine art, and it is one of the oldest of instruments, but, +unlike the violin and other instruments, it is more perfectly +manufactured to-day than it was in the past. The modern flutes have a +far more mellow and sympathetic tone than the old ones.</p> + +<p>That whole evening at Miss Cushman's was complete in its fulness of +experience, as I recall it, looking back across the years. How many +people know that Miss Cushman had studied singing and had a very fine +<i>baritone</i> contralto voice? Two of her songs were <i>The Sands o' Dee</i> and +<i>Low I Breathe my Passion</i>. That night, the last time I ever heard her +sing, I recalled how often before I had seen her seating herself at the +piano to play her own accompaniments, always a difficult thing to do. +Again I can see her, at this late day, turning on the stool to talk to +us between songs, emphasising her points with that odd, inevitable +gesture of the forefinger that was so characteristic of her, and then +wheeling back to the instrument to let that deep voice of hers roll +through the room in</p> + +<p class="c">"Will she wake and say good night?"...</p> + +<p>During that first Boston season of mine, my mother and I used to give +breakfasts at the Parker House. We were somewhat noted characters there +as we were the first women to stop at it, the Parker House being +originally a man's restaurant exclusively; and breakfast was a meal of +ceremony. The <i>chef</i> of the Parker House used to surpass himself at our +breakfast entertainments for he knew that such an epicure as Oliver<a name="page_053" id="page_053"></a> +Wendell Holmes might be there at any time. This <i>chef</i>, by the way, was +the first man to put up soups in cans and, after he left the Parker +House kitchens, he made name and money for himself in establishing the +canned goods trade.</p> + +<p class="figcenter"> +<a href="images/charlotte_cushman_lg.jpg"> +<img src="images/charlotte_cushman_sml.jpg" width="389" height="550" alt="Charlotte Cushman, 1861 + +From a photograph by Silsbee, Case & Co." title="" /></a> +<br /> +<span class="caption"><b>Charlotte Cushman, 1861</b><br /> + +From a photograph by Silsbee, Case & Co.</span> +</p> + +<p>Dear Dr. Holmes! What a delightful, warm spontaneous nature was his, and +what a fine mind! We were always good friends and I am proud of the +fact. Shall I ever forget the dignity and impressiveness of his bearing +as, after the fourth course of one of my breakfasts, he glanced up, saw +the waiter approaching, arose solemnly as if he were about to make a +speech, went behind his chair,—we all thought he was about to give us +one of his brilliant addresses—shook out one leg and then the other, +all most seriously and without a word, so as to make room for the next +course!</p> + +<p>Years later Dr. Holmes and I crossed from England on the same steamer. +He had been fêted and made much of in England and we discussed the +relative brilliancy of American and English women. I contended that +Americans were the brighter and more sparkling, while English women had +twice as much real education and mental training. Dr. Holmes agreed, but +with reservations. He professed himself to be still dazzled with British +feminine wit.</p> + +<p>"I'm tired to death," he declared. "At every dinner party I went to they +had picked out the cleverest women in London to sit on each side of me. +I'm utterly exhausted trying to keep up with them!"</p> + +<p>This was the voyage when the benefit for the sailors was given—for the +English sailors, that is. It was well arranged so that the American +seamen could get nothing out of it. Dr. Holmes was asked to speak and I +was asked to sing; but we declined to perform.<a name="page_054" id="page_054"></a> We did write our names +on the programmes, however, and as these sold for a considerable price, +we added to the fund in spite of our intentions.</p> + +<p>My first season in Boston—from which I have strayed so far so many +times—was destined to be a brief one, but also very strenuous, due to +the fact that in the beginning I had only two operas in my <i>répertoire</i>, +one of which Boston did not approve. After <i>Linda</i>, I was rushed on in +Bellini's <i>I Puritani</i> and had to "get up in it" in three days. It went +very well, and was followed with <i>La Sonnambula</i> by the same composer +and after only one week's rehearsal. I was a busy girl in those weeks; +and I should have been still busier if opera in America had not received +a sudden and tragic blow.</p> + +<p>The "vacillating" Buchanan's reign was over. On March 4th Lincoln was +inaugurated. A hush of suspense was in the air:—a hush broken on April +12th by the shot fired by South Carolina upon Fort Sumter. On April 14th +Sumter capitulated and Abraham Lincoln called for volunteers. The Civil +War had begun.<a name="page_055" id="page_055"></a></p> + +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_VI" id="CHAPTER_VI"></a>CHAPTER VI<br /><br /> +WAR TIMES</h2> + +<p class="nind"><span class="letra">A</span>T first the tremendous crisis filled everyone with a purely impersonal +excitement and concern; but one fine morning we awoke to the fact that +our opera season was paralysed.</p> + +<p>The American people found the actual dramas of Bull Run, Big Bethel and +Harpers Ferry more absorbing than any play or opera ever put upon the +boards, and the airs of <i>Yankee Doodle</i> and <i>The Girl I Left Behind Me</i> +more inspiring than the finest operatic <i>arias</i> in the world. They did +not want to go to the theatres in the evening. They wanted to read the +bulletin boards. Every move in the big game of war that was being played +by the ruling powers of our country was of thrilling interest, and as +fast as things happened they were "posted."</p> + +<p>Maretzek "the Magnificent," so obstinate that he simply did not know how +to give up a project merely because it was impossible, packed a few of +us off to Philadelphia to produce the <i>Ballo in Maschera</i>. We hoped +against hope that it would be light enough to divert the public, at even +that tragic moment. But the public refused to be diverted. Why I ever +sang in it I cannot imagine. I weighed barely one hundred and four +pounds and was about as well suited to the part of Amelia as a sparrow +would have been. I<a name="page_056" id="page_056"></a> never liked the <i>rôle</i>; it is heavy and uncongenial +and altogether out of my line. I should never have been permitted to do +it, and I have always suspected that there might have been something of +a plot against me on the part of the Italians. But all this made no +difference, for we abandoned the idea of taking the opera out on a short +tour. We could plainly see that opera was doomed for the time being in +America.</p> + +<p>Then Maretzek bethought himself of <i>La Figlia del Reggimento</i>, a +military opera, very light and infectious, that might easily catch the +wave of public sentiment at the moment. We put it on in a rush. I played +the Daughter and we crowded into the performance every bit of martial +feeling we could muster. I learned to play the drum, and we introduced +all sorts of military business and bugle calls, and altogether contrived +to create a warlike atmosphere. We were determined to make a success of +it; but we were also genuinely moved by the contagious glow that +pervaded the country and the times, and to this combined mood of +patriotism and expediency we sacrificed many artistic details. For +example, we were barbarous enough to put in sundry American national +airs and we had the assistance of real Zouaves to lend colour; and this +reminds me that about the same period Isabella Hinckley even sang <i>The +Star Spangled Banner</i> in the middle of a performance of <i>Il Barbiere</i>.</p> + +<p>Our attempt was a great success. We played Donizetti's little opera to +houses of frantic enthusiasm, first in Baltimore, then in Washington on +May the third, where naturally the war fever was at its highest heat. +The audiences cheered and cried and let themselves go in the hysterical +manner of people wrought up by great national excitements. Even on the +stage we<a name="page_057" id="page_057"></a> caught the feeling. I sang the Figlia better than I had ever +sung anything yet, and I found myself wondering, as I sang, how many of +my cadet friends of a few months earlier were already at the front.</p> + +<p class="figcenter"> +<a href="images/clara_figlia_lg.jpg"> +<img src="images/clara_figlia_sml.jpg" width="360" height="550" alt="Clara Louise Kellogg as Figlia + +From a photograph by Black & Case" title="" /></a> +<br /> +<span class="caption"><b>Clara Louise Kellogg as Figlia</b><br /> + +From a photograph by Black & Case</span> +</p> + +<p>I felt very proud of these friends when I read the despatches from the +front. They all distinguished themselves, some on one side and some on +the other. Alec McCook was Colonel of the 1st Ohio Volunteers, being an +Ohio man by birth, and did splendid service in the first big battle of +the war, Bull Run. He was made Major-General of Volunteers later, I +believe, and always held a prominent position in American military +affairs. From Fort Pulaski came word of Lieutenant Horace Porter who, +though only recently graduated, was in command of the battlements there. +He was speedily brevetted Captain for "distinguished gallantry under +fire," and after Antietam he was sent to join the Army of the Ohio. He +was everywhere and did everything imaginable during the +war—Chattanooga, Chickamauga, the Battle of the Wilderness—and was +General Grant's <i>aide-de-camp</i> in some of the big conflicts. McCreary +and young Huger I heard less of because they were on the other side; but +they were both brave fellows and did finely according to their +convictions. It is odd to recall that Huger's father, General Isaac +Huger, had fought for the Union in the early wars and yet turned against +her in the civil struggle between the blues and the greys. The Hugers +were South Carolinians though, and therefore rabid Confederates.</p> + +<p>With the war and its many memories, ghosts will always rise up in my +recollection of Custer, the "Golden Haired Laddie,"—as his friends +called him. He was a good friend of mine, and after the war was over he +used<a name="page_058" id="page_058"></a> to come frequently to see me and tell me the most wonderful, +thrilling stories about it, and of his earliest fights with the Indians. +He was a most vivid creature; one felt a sense of vigour and energy and +eagerness about him; and he was so brave and zealous as to make one know +that he would always come up to the mark. I never saw more magnificent +enthusiasm. He was not thirty at that time and when on horseback, riding +hard, with his long yellow hair blowing back in the wind, he was a +marvellously striking figure. He was not really a tall man, but looked +so, being a soldier. Oh, if I could only remember those stories of +his—stories of pluck and of danger and of excitement!</p> + +<p>It has always been a matter of secret pride with me that, in my small +way, I did something for the Union too. I heard that our patriotic and +inartistic <i>Daughter of the Regiment</i> caused several lads to enlist. I +do not know if this were true, but I hoped so at the time, and it might +well have been so.</p> + +<p>I had a dresser, Ellen Conklin, who had some strange and rather ghastly +tales to tell of the slave trade in the days before the war. She had +been in other opera companies, small troupes, that sang their way from +the far South, and the primitive and casual manner of their travel had +offered many opportunities for her to visit any number of slave markets. +She frequently had been harrowed to the breaking point by the sight of +mothers separated from their children, and men and women who loved each +other being parted for life. The worst horror of it all had been to her +the examining of the female slaves as to their physical equipment, in +which the buyers were more often brutal than not. Ellen was Irish and +emotional; and it tore her heart<a name="page_059" id="page_059"></a> out to see such things; but she kept +on going to the slave sales just the same.</p> + +<p class="figcenter"> +<a href="images/general_horace_porter_lg.jpg"> +<img src="images/general_horace_porter_sml.jpg" width="390" height="550" alt="General Horace Porter + +From a photograph by Pach Bros." title="" /></a> +<br /> +<span class="caption"><b>General Horace Porter</b><br /> + +From a photograph by Pach Bros.</span> +</p> + +<p>"They nearly killed me, Miss," she declared to me with tears in her +eyes, "but I could never resist one!"</p> + +<p>Though I quite understood Ellen's emotions, I found it a little +difficult to understand why she invited them so persistently. But I have +learned that this is a very common human weakness—luckily for managers +who put on harrowing plays. Many people go to the theatre to cry. When I +sang Mignon the audience always cried and wiped its eyes; and I felt +convinced that many had come for exactly that purpose. Two women I know +once went to see Helena Modjeska in <i>Adrienne Lecouvreur</i> and, when the +curtain fell, one of them turned to the other with streaming eyes and +gasped between her choking sobs:</p> + +<p>"L—l—let's come—(sob)—again—(sob)—t—t—to-morrow night! (sob, +sob)."</p> + +<p>Personally, I think there are occasions enough for tears in this life, +bitter or consoling, without having somebody on the stage draw them out +over fictitious joys and sorrows.</p> + +<p>In the beginning of the war the feeling against the negroes was really +more bitter in the North than in the South. The riots in New York were a +scandal and a disgrace, although very few people have any idea how bad +they actually were. The Irish Catholics were particularly rabid and +asserted openly, right and left, that the freeing of the slaves would +mean an influx of cheap labour that would become a drug on the market. +It was an Irish mob that burned a coloured orphan asylum, after which +taste of blood the most innocent black was not safe. Perfectly harmless +coloured people were hanged to lamp-posts with impunity. No one<a name="page_060" id="page_060"></a> ever +seemed to be punished for such outrages. The time was one of open +lawlessness in New York City. The Irish seem sometimes to be peculiarly +possessed by this unreasoning and hysterical mob spirit which, as Ruskin +once pointed out, they always manage to justify to themselves by some +high abstract principle or sentiment. A story that has always seemed to +me illustrative of this is that of the Hibernian contingent that hanged +an unfortunate Jew because his people had killed Jesus Christ and, when +reminded that it had all happened some time before, replied that "that +might be, but they had only just heard of it!" It is a singularly +significant story, with much more truth than jest in it. Years later, I +recollect that those Irish riots in New York over the negro question +served as the basis for some exceedingly heated arguments between an +English friend of mine at Aix-les-Bains and a Catholic priest living +there. The priest sought to justify them, but his reasonings have +escaped me.</p> + +<p>At the time of these riots our New York home was on Twenty-second Street +where Stern's shop now stands. We rented it from the Bryces, +Southerners, who had a coloured coachman, a fact that made our residence +a target for the animosity of our more ignorant neighbours who lived in +the rear. The house was built with a foreign porte-cochère; and, time +and again, small mobs would throng under that porte-cochère, battering +on the door and trying to break in to get the coachman. The hanging of a +negro near St. John's Chapel was an occasion for rejoicing and +festivity, and the lower class Irish considered it a time for their best +clothes. One hears of bear-baiting and bull-fights. But think of the +barbarity of all this!</p> + +<p>Once, when we went away for a day or two, we left<a name="page_061" id="page_061"></a> Irish servants in the +house and, on returning, I found that the maids had been wearing my +smartest gowns to view the riots and lynchings. A common lace collar was +pinned to one of my French dresses and I had little difficulty in +getting the waitress to admit that she had worn it. She explained +<i>naïvely</i> that the riots were gala occasions, "a great time for the +Irish." She added that she had met my father on the stairs and had been +afraid that he would recognise the dress; but, although she was penitent +enough about "borrowing" the finery, she did not in the least see +anything odd in her desire to dress up for the tormenting of an +unfortunate fellow-creature.</p> + +<p>Everybody went about singing Mrs. Howe's <i>Battle Hymn of the Republic</i> +and it was then that I first learned that the air—the simple but +rousing little melody of <i>John Brown's Body</i>—was in reality a melody by +Felix Mendelssohn. Martial songs of all kinds were the order of the day +and all more classic music was relegated to the background for the time +being. It was not until the following winter that public sentiment +subsided sufficiently for us to really consider another musical season.<a name="page_062" id="page_062"></a></p> + +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_VII" id="CHAPTER_VII"></a>CHAPTER VII<br /><br /> +STEPS OF THE LADDER</h2> + +<p class="nind"><span class="letra">I</span>N the three years between my <i>début</i> and my appearance in <i>Faust</i> I +sang, in all, a dozen operas:—<i>Rigoletto</i>, <i>Linda</i>, <i>I Puritani</i>, +<i>Sonnambula</i>, <i>Ballo in Maschera</i>, <i>Figlia del Reggimento</i>, <i>Les Noces +de Jeannette</i>, <i>Lucia</i>, <i>Don Giovanni</i>, <i>Poliuto</i>, <i>Marta</i>, and +<i>Traviata</i>. Besides these, I sang a good deal in concert, but I never +cared for either concert or oratorio work as much as for opera. My real +growth and development came from big parts in which both musical and +dramatic accomplishment were necessary.</p> + +<p>Like all artists, I look back upon many fluctuations in my artistic +achievements. Sometimes I was good, and often not so good; and, +curiously enough, I was usually best, according to my friends and +critics, when most dissatisfied with myself. But of one thing I am +fairly confident:—I never really went backward, never seriously +retrograded artistically. Each <i>rôle</i> was a step further and higher. To +each I brought a clearer vision, a surer touch, a more flexible method, +a finer (how shall I say it in English?) <i>attaque</i> is nearest what I +mean. This I say without vanity, for the artist who does not grow and +improve with each succeeding part is deteriorating. There is no standing +still in any life work; or, if there is, it is the standing still of +successful effort, the hard-won tenure of a difficult place from<a name="page_063" id="page_063"></a> which +most people slip back. The Red Queen in <i>Through the Looking Glass</i> +expressed it rightly when she told Alice that "you have to run just as +hard as you can to stay where you are."</p> + +<p>As Gilda I was laying only the groundwork. My performance was, I +believe, on the right lines. It rang true. But it was far from what it +became in later years when the English critics found me "the most +beautiful and convincing of all Gildas!" As Linda I do not think that I +showed any great intellectual improvement over Gilda, but I had acquired +a certain confidence and authority. I sang and acted with more ease; and +for the first time I had gained a sense of <i>personal responsibility</i> +toward, and for, an audience. When I beheld only three hundred people in +my first-night Boston audience and determined to win them, and did win +them, I came into possession of new and important factors in my work. +This consciousness and earnest will-power to move one's public by the +force of one's art is one of the first steps toward being a true <i>prima +donna</i>.</p> + +<p><i>I Puritani</i> never taught me very much, simply as an opera. The part was +too heavy as my voice was then, and our production of it was so hurried +that I had not time to spend on it the study which I liked to give a new +<i>rôle</i>. But in this very fact lay its lesson for me. The necessity for +losing timidity and self-consciousness, the power to fling oneself into +a new part without time to coddle one's vanity or one's habits of mind, +the impersonal courage needed to attack fresh difficulties:—these +points are of quite as much importance to a young opera singer as are +fine breath control and a gift for phrasing. <i>Sonnambula</i>, too, had to +be "jumped into" in the same fashion and was<a name="page_064" id="page_064"></a> even more of an +undertaking, though the <i>rôle</i> suited me better and is, in fact, a +rarely grateful one. Yet think of being Amina with only one week's +rehearsing! <i>Sonnambula</i> was first given by us as a benefit performance +for Brignoli. It was generally understood to be in the nature of a +farewell. Indeed, I think he said so himself. But, of course, he never +had the slightest idea of really leaving America. He stayed here until +he died. But to his credit be it said that he never had any more +"farewell" appearances. He did not form the habit.</p> + +<p>I have spoken of how hopeless it is for an opera singer to try to work +emotionally or purely on impulse; of how futile the merely temperamental +artist becomes on the operatic stage. Yet too much stress cannot be laid +on the importance of feeling what one does and sings. It is in just this +seeming paradox that the truly professional artist's point of view may +be found. The amateur acts and sings temperamentally. The trained +student gives a finished and correct performance. It is only a +genius—or something very near it—who can do both. There is something +balanced and restrained in a genuine <i>prima donna's</i> brain that keeps +her emotions from running away with her, just as there is at the same +time something equally warm and inspired in her heart that animates the +most clear-cut of her intellectual work and makes it living and lovely. +Sometimes it is difficult for an experienced artist to say just where +instinct stops and art begins. When I sang Amina I was greatly +complimented on my walk and my intonation, both most characteristic of a +somnambulist. I made a point of keeping a strange, rhythmical, dreamy +step like that of a sleep-walker and sang as if I were talking in my +sleep. I breathed<a name="page_065" id="page_065"></a> in a hard, laboured way, and walked with the headlong +yet dragging gait of someone who neither sees, knows, nor cares where +she is going. Now, this effect came not entirely from calculation nor +yet from intuition, but from a combination of the two. I was in the +<i>mood</i> of somnambulism and acted accordingly. But I deliberately placed +myself in that mood. This only partly expresses what I wish to say on +the subject; but it is the root of dramatic work as I know it.</p> + +<p>The opera of <i>Sonnambula</i>, incidentally, taught me one or two things not +generally included in stage essentials. Among others, I had to learn not +to be afraid, physically afraid, or at any rate not to mind being +afraid. In the sleep-walking scene Amina, carrying her candle and robed +in white, glides across the narrow bridge at a perilous height while the +watchers below momentarily expect her to be dashed to pieces on the +rocks underneath. Our bridge used to be set very high indeed (it was +especially lofty in the Philadelphia Opera House where we gave the opera +a little later), and I had quite a climb to get up to it at all. There +was a wire strung along the side of the bridge, but it was not a bit of +good to lean on—merely a moral support. I had to carry the candle in +one hand and couldn't even hold the other outstretched to balance +myself, for sleep-walkers do not fall! This was the point that I had to +keep in mind; I could not walk carefully, but I had to walk with +certainty. In a sense it was suggestive of a hypnotic condition and I +had to get pretty nearly into one myself before I could do it. At all +events, I had to compose myself very summarily first. Just in the middle +of the crossing the bridge is supposed to crack. Of course the edges +were only broken; but I had to give a sort of "jog"<a name="page_066" id="page_066"></a> to carry out the +illusion and I used to wonder, the while I jogged, if I were going over +the side <i>that</i> time! In the wings they used to be quite anxious about +me and would draw a general breath of relief when I was safely across. +Every night I would be asked if I were sure I wanted to undertake it +that night, and every time I would answer:</p> + +<p>"I don't know whether I <i>can</i>!"</p> + +<p>But, of course, I always did it. Somehow, one always does do one's work +on the stage, even if it is trying to the nerves or a bit dangerous. I +have heard that when Maud Adams put on her big production of <i>Joan of +Arc</i>, her managers objected seriously to having her lead the mounted +battle charge herself. A "double" was costumed exactly like her and was +ready to mount Miss Adams's horse at the last moment. But did she ever +give a double a chance to lead her battle charge? Not she: and no more +would any true artist.</p> + +<p class="figcenter"> +<a href="images/muzio_lg.jpg"> +<img src="images/muzio_sml.jpg" width="488" height="550" alt="Muzio + +From a photograph by Gurney & Son" title="" /></a> +<br /> +<span class="caption"><b>Muzio</b><br /> + +From a photograph by Gurney & Son</span> +</p> + +<p><i>Sonnambula</i> also helped fix in my mentality the traditions of Italian +opera; those traditions that my teachers—Muzio particularly—had been +striving so hard to impress upon and make real to me. The school of the +older operas, while the greatest school for singers in the world, is one +in which tradition is, and must be, pre-eminent. In the modern growths, +springing up among us every year, the singer has a chance to create, to +trace new paths, to take venturesome flights. The new operas not only +permit this, they require it. But it is a pity to hear a young, +imaginative artist try to interpret some old and classic opera by the +light of his or her modern perceptions. They do not improve on the +material. They only make a combination that is bizarre and inartistic. +This struck me forcibly not long ago when I heard a young, talented +American sing<a name="page_067" id="page_067"></a> <i>A non giunge</i>, the lovely old <i>aria</i> from the last act +of <i>Sonnambula</i>. The girl had a charming voice and she sang with musical +feeling and taste. But she had not one "tradition" as we understood the +term, and, in consequence, almost any worn-out, old-school singer could +have rendered the <i>aria</i> more acceptably to trained ears. Traditions are +as necessary to the Bellini operas as costumes are to Shakespeare's +plays. To dispense with them may be original, but it is bad art. And +yet, while I became duly impressed with the necessity of the +"traditions," during those early performances, I always tried to avoid +following them too servilely or too artificially. I tried to interpret +for myself, within certain well-defined limits, according to my personal +conception of the characters I was personating. The traditions of +Italian opera combined with my own ideals of the lyric heroines,—this +became my object and ambition.</p> + +<p>The summer after my <i>début</i>, I went on a concert tour under Grau's +management, but my throat was tired after the strain and nervous effort +of my first season, and I finally went up to the country for a long +rest. In New Hartford, Connecticut, my mother, father, and I renewed +many old friendships, and it was a genuine pleasure to sing again in a +small choir, to attend sewing circles, and to live the every-day life +from which I had been so far removed during my studies and professional +work. People everywhere were charming to me. Though only nineteen, I was +an acknowledged <i>prima donna</i>, and so received all sorts of kindly +attentions. This was the summer, I believe, (although it may have been a +later one) when Herbert Witherspoon, then only a boy, determined to +become a professional singer. He has always insisted that<a name="page_068" id="page_068"></a> it was my +presence and the glamour that surrounded the stage because of me that +finally decided him.</p> + +<p>I did not sing again in New York until the January of 1862. Before that +we had a short season on the road, Philadelphia, Baltimore, and other +places. As there were then but nine opera houses in America our +itinerary was necessarily somewhat limited. In November of that year I +sang in <i>Les Noces de Jeannette</i>, in Philadelphia, a charming part +although not a very important one. It is a simple little operetta in one +act by Victor Macci. The <i>libretto</i> was in French and I sang it in that +language. Pleasing speeches were made about my French and people wanted +to know where I had studied it—I, who had never studied it at all +except at home! The opera was not long enough for a full evening's +entertainment, so Miss Hinckley was put on in the same bill in +Donizetti's <i>Betly</i>. The two went very well together.</p> + +<p>The critics found <i>Jeannette</i> a great many surprising things, "broad," +"risqué," "typically French," and so on. In reality it was innocent +enough; but it must be remembered that this was a day and generation +which found <i>Faust</i> frightfully daring, and <i>Traviata</i> so improper that +a year's hard effort was required before it could be sung in Brooklyn. I +sympathised with one critic, however, who railed against the translated +<i>libretto</i> as sold in the lobby. After stating that it was utter +nonsense, he added with excellent reason:</p> + +<p>"But this was to have been expected. That anyone connected with an opera +house should know enough about English to make a decent translation into +it is, of course, quite out of the question."</p> + +<p>It was really funny about <i>Traviata</i>. In 1861 President Chittenden, of +the Board of Directors of the<a name="page_069" id="page_069"></a> Brooklyn Academy of Music, made a +sensational speech arraigning the plot of <i>Traviata</i>,<a name="FNanchor_1_1" id="FNanchor_1_1"></a><a href="#Footnote_1_1" class="fnanchor">[1]</a> and protesting +against its production in Brooklyn on the grounds of propriety, or, +rather, impropriety. Meetings were held and it was finally resolved that +the opera was objectionable. The feeling against it grew into a series +of almost religious ceremonies of protest and, as I have said, it took +Grau a year of hard effort to overcome the opposition. When, at last, in +'62, the opera was given, I took part; and the audience was all on edge +with excitement. There had been so much talk about it that the whole +town turned out to see <i>why</i> the Directors had withstood it for a year. +Every clergyman within travelling distance was in the house.</p> + +<p>Its dramatic sister <i>Camille</i> was also opposed violently when Mme. +Modjeska played it in Brooklyn in later years. These facts are amusing +in the light of present-day productions and their morals, or dearth of +them. <i>Salome</i> is, I think, about the only grand opera of recent times +that has been suppressed by a Directors' Meeting. But in my youth +Directors were very tender of their public's virtuous feelings. When +<i>The Black Crook</i> and the Lydia Thompson troupe first appeared in New +York, people spoke of those comparatively harmless shows with bated +breath and no one dared admit having actually seen them. The "Lydia +Thompson Blonds" the troupe was called. They did a burlesque song and +dance affair, and wore yellow wigs. Mr. Brander Matthews married one of +the most popular and charming of them. I wonder what would have happened +to an audience of that time if a modern, up-to-date, Broadway musical +farce had been presented to their consideration!</p> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_1_1" id="Footnote_1_1"></a><a href="#FNanchor_1_1"><span class="label">[1]</span></a> The book is founded upon Dumas's <i>La Dame aux Camélias</i>.</p></div> + +<p><a name="page_070" id="page_070"></a></p> + +<p>At any rate, the much-advertised <i>Traviata</i> was finally given, being a +huge and sensational success. Probably I did not really understand the +character of Violetta down in the bottom of my heart. Modjeska once said +that a woman was only capable of playing Juliet when she was old enough +to be a grandmother; and if that be true of the young Verona girl, how +much more must it be true of poor Camille. My interpretation of the Lady +of the Camellias must have been a curiously impersonal one. I know that +when Emma Abbott appeared in it later, the critics said that she was so +afraid of allowing it to be suggestive that she made it so, whereas I +apparently never thought of that side of it and consequently never +forced my audiences to think of it either.</p> + +<div class="blockquot"><p>There are some things accessible to genius that are beyond the +reach of character [wrote one reviewer]. Abbott expects to make +<i>Traviata</i> acceptable very much as she would make a capon +acceptable. She is always afraid of the words. So she substitutes +her own. Kellogg sang this opera and nobody ever thought of the bad +there is in it. Why? <i>Because Kellogg never thought of it.</i> Abbott +reminds me of a girl of four who weeps for pantalettes on account +of the wickedness of the world!</p></div> + +<p>Violetta's gowns greatly interested me. I liked surprising the public +with new and startling effects. I argued that Violetta would probably +love curious and exotic combinations, so I dressed her first act in a +gown of rose pink and pale primrose yellow. Odd? Yes; of course it was +odd. But the colour scheme, bizarre as it was, always looked to my mind +and the minds of other persons altogether enchanting.<a name="page_071" id="page_071"></a></p> + +<p><i>A propos</i> of the Violetta gowns, I sang the part during one season with +a tenor whose hands were always dirty. I found the back of my pretty +frocks becoming grimier and grimier, and greasier and greasier, and, as +I provided my own gowns and had to be economical, I finally came to the +conclusion that I could not and would not afford such wholesale and +continual ruin. So I sent my compliments to Monsieur and asked him +please to be extra careful and particular about washing his hands before +the performance as my dress was very light and delicate, etc.,—quite a +polite message considering the subject. Politeness, however, was +entirely wasted on him. Back came the cheery and nonchalant reply:</p> + +<p>"All right! Tell her to send me some soap!"</p> + +<p>I sent it: and I supplied him with soap for the rest of the season. This +was cheaper than buying new clothes.</p> + +<p>Tenors are queer creatures. Most of them have their eccentricities and +the soprano is lucky if these are innocuous peculiarities. I used to +find it in my heart, for instance, to wish that they did not have such +queer theories as to what sort of food was good for the voice. Many of +them affected garlic. Stigelli usually exhaled an aroma of lager beer; +while the good Mazzoleni invariably ate from one to two pounds of cheese +the day he was to sing. He said it strengthened his voice. Brignoli had +been long enough in this country to become partly Americanised, so he +never smelled of anything in particular.</p> + +<p><i>Poliuto</i> by Donizetti was never as brilliant a success as other operas +by the same composer. It is never given now. The scene of it is laid in +Rome, in the days of the Christian martyrs, and it has some very +effective<a name="page_072" id="page_072"></a> moments, but for some reason those classic days did not +appeal to the public of our presentation. I do not believe <i>Quo Vadis</i> +would ever have gone then as it did later. The music of <i>Poliuto</i> was +easy and showed off the voice, like all of Donizetti's music: and the +part of Paulina was exceptionally fine, with splendid opportunities for +dramatic work. The scene where she is thrown into the Colosseum was +particularly effective. But the American audiences did not seem to be +deeply interested in the fate of Paulina nor in that of Septimus +Severus. The year before my <i>début</i> in <i>Rigoletto</i> I had rehearsed +Paulina and had made something tragically near to a failure of it as I +had not then the physical nor vocal strength for the part. Indeed, I +should never then have been allowed to try it, and I have always had a +suspicion that I was put in it for the express purpose of proving me a +failure. That was when Muzio decided to "try me out" in the concert +<i>tournée</i> as a sort of preliminary education. Therefore, one of the most +comforting elements of the final <i>Poliuto</i> production to me was the +realisation that I was appearing, and appearing well, in a part in which +I had rehearsed so very discouragingly such a short time before. It was +a small triumph, perhaps, but it combined with many other small matters +to establish that sure yet humble confidence which is so essential to a +singer. So far as personal success went, Brignoli made the hit of +<i>Poliuto</i>.</p> + +<p class="figcenter"> +<a href="images/clara_as_lucia_lg.jpg"> +<img src="images/clara_as_lucia_sml.jpg" width="390" height="550" alt="Clara Louise Kellogg as Lucia + +From a photograph by Elliott & Fry" title="" /></a> +<br /> +<span class="caption"><b>Clara Louise Kellogg as Lucia</b><br /> + +From a photograph by Elliott & Fry</span> +</p> + +<p>Lucia was never one of my favourite parts, but it is a singularly +grateful one. It has very few bad moments, and one can attack it without +the dread one sometimes feels for a <i>rôle</i> containing difficult +passages. Of course Lucia, with her hopeless, weak-minded love for +Edgardo, and her spectacular mad scene,<a name="page_073" id="page_073"></a> reminded me of my beloved +Linda, and there were many points of similarity in the two operas. I +found, therefore, that Lucia involved much less original and +interpretive work than most of my new parts; and it was never fatiguing. +Being beautifully high, I liked singing it. My voice, though flexible +and of wide range, always slipped most easily into the far upper +registers. I can recall the positive ache it was to sing certain parts +of Carmen that took me down far too low for comfort. Sometimes too, I +must admit, I used to "cheat" it. We nearly always opened in <i>Lucia</i> +when we began an opera season. Its success was never sensational, but +invariably safe and sure. Sometimes managers would be dubious and +suggest some production more startling as a commencement, but I always +had a deep and well-founded faith in <i>Lucia</i>.</p> + +<p>"It never draws a capacity house," I would be told.</p> + +<p>"But it never fails to get a fair one."</p> + +<p>"It never makes a sensation."</p> + +<p>"But it never gets a bad notice." I would say.</p> + +<p>Martha was a light and pleasing part to play. Vocally it taught me very +little—little, that is to say, that I can now recognise, although I am +loath to make such a statement of any <i>rôle</i>. There are so many slight +and obscure ways in which a part can help one, almost unconsciously. The +point that stands out most strikingly in my recollection of <i>Martha</i> is +the rather rueful triumph I had in it with regard to realistic acting. +Everyone who knows the story of Flotow's opera will recall that the +heroine is horribly bored in the first act. She is utterly uninterested, +utterly blasée, utterly listless. Accordingly, so I played the first +act. Later in the opera, when she is in the midst of interesting<a name="page_074" id="page_074"></a> +happenings and no longer bored, she becomes animated and eager, quite a +different person from the languid great lady in the beginning. So, also, +I played that part. Here came my triumph, although it was a left-handed +compliment aimed with the intention only to criticise and to criticise +severely. One reviewer said, the morning after I had first given my +careful and logical interpretation, that "it was a pity Miss Kellogg had +taken so little pains with the first act. She had played it dully, +stupidly, without interest or animation. Later, however, she brightened +up a little and somewhat redeemed our impression of her work as we had +seen it in the early part of the evening." I felt angry and hurt about +this at the time, yet it pleased me too, for it was a huge tribute even +if the critic did not intend it to be so.</p> + +<p>Although I did sing in <i>Don Giovanni</i> under Grau that year in Boston, I +never really considered it as belonging to that period. I did so much +with this opera in after years—singing both Donna Anna and Zerlina at +various times and winning some of the most notable praise of my +career—that I always instinctively think of it as one of my later and +more mature achievements. I always loved the opera and feel that it is +an invaluable part of every singer's education to have appeared in it. +<i>The Magic Flute</i> never seemed to me to be half so genuinely big or so +inspired. In <i>Don Giovanni</i> Mozart gave us his richest and most complete +flower of operatic work. In our cast were Amodio, whom I had heard with +Piccolomini, and Mme. Medori, my old rival in <i>Linda</i>, who had recently +joined the Grau Company.</p> + +<p class="figcenter"> +<a href="images/clara_as_martha_lg.jpg"> +<img src="images/clara_as_martha_sml.jpg" width="335" height="550" alt="Clara Louise Kellogg as Martha + +From a photograph by Turner" title="" /></a> +<br /> +<span class="caption"><b>Clara Louise Kellogg as Martha</b><br /> + +From a photograph by Turner</span> +</p> + +<p>All this time the war was going on and our opera ventures, even at their +best, were nothing to what they<a name="page_075" id="page_075"></a> had been in the days of peace. It +seemed quite clear for a while that the old favourites would not draw +audiences from among the anxious and sorrowing people. For a big success +we needed something novel, sensational, exceptional.</p> + +<p>On the other side of the world people were all talking of Gounod's new +opera—the one he had sold for only twelve hundred dollars, but which +had made a wonderful hit both in Paris and London. It was said to be +startlingly new; and Max Maretzek, in despair over the many lukewarm +successes we had all had, decided to have a look at the score. The opera +was <i>Faust</i>.</p> + +<p>With all my pride, I was terrified and appalled when "the Magnificent" +came to me and abruptly told me that I was to create the part of +Marguerite in America. This was a "large order" for a girl of twenty; +but I took my courage in both hands and resolved to make America proud +of me. I was a pioneer when I undertook Gounod's music and I had no +notion of what to do with it, but my will and my ambition arose to meet +the situation.</p> + +<p>Just here, because of its general bearing on the point, I feel that it +is desirable to quote a paragraph which was written by my old friend—or +was he enemy?—many years later when I had won my measure of success, +"Nym Crinkle" (A. C. Wheeler), and which I have always highly valued:</p> + +<div class="blockquot"><p>There isn't a bit of snobbishness about Kellogg's opinions [he +wrote]. For a woman who has sung everywhere, she retains a very +wholesome opinion of her own country. She always seems to me to be +trying to win two imperishable chaplets, one of which is for her +country. So you see we have got to take our little flags and wave +them whether it is the correct thing or not. And, so far as I am +concerned,<a name="page_076" id="page_076"></a> I think it is the correct thing.... She has this +tremendous advantage that, when she declares in print that America +can produce its own singers, she is quite capable of going +afterwards upon the stage and proving it!</p></div> + +<p><a name="page_077" id="page_077"></a></p> + +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_VIII" id="CHAPTER_VIII"></a>CHAPTER VIII<br /><br /> +MARGUERITE</h2> + +<p class="nind"><span class="letra">M</span>ME. Miolan-Carvalho created Marguerite in Paris, at the Théâtre +Lyrique. In London Patti and Titjiens had both sung it before we put it +on in America,—Adelina at Covent Garden and Titjiens at Her Majesty's +Opera House, where I was destined to sing it later. Except for these +productions of <i>Faust</i> across the sea, that opera was still an +unexplored field. I had absolutely nothing to guide me, nothing to help +me, when I began work on it. I, who had been schooled and trained in +"traditions" and their observances since I had first begun to study, +found myself confronted with conditions that had as yet no traditions. I +had to make them for myself.</p> + +<p>Maretzek secured the score during the winter of '62-'63 and then spoke +to me about the music. I worked at the part off and on for nine months, +even while I was singing other parts and taking my summer vacation. But +when the season opened in the autumn of 1863, the performance was +postponed because a certain reaction had set in on the part of the +public. People were beginning to want some sort of distraction and +relaxation from the horrors and anxieties of war, and now began to come +again to hear the old favourites. So Maretzek wanted to wait and put off +his new sensation until he really needed it as a drawing card.<a name="page_078" id="page_078"></a></p> + +<p>Then came the news that Anschutz, the German manager, was about to bring +a German company to the Terrace Garden in New York with a fine +<i>répertoire</i> of grand opera, including <i>Faust</i>. Of course this settled +the question. Maretzek hurried the new opera into final rehearsal and it +was produced at The Academy of Music on November 25, 1863, when I was +very little more than twenty years old.</p> + +<p>Before I myself say anything about <i>Faust</i>, in which I was soon to +appear, I want to quote the views of a leading newspaper of New York +after I had appeared.</p> + +<div class="blockquot"><p>A brilliant audience assembled last night. The opera was <i>Faust</i>. +Such an audience ought, in figurative language, "to raise the roof +off" with applause. But with the clumsily written, uninspired +melodies that the solo singers have to declaim there was the least +possible applause. And this is not the fault of the vocalists, for +they tried their best. We except to this charge of dullness the +dramatic love scene where the tolerably broad business concludes +the act. With these facts plain to everyone present we cannot +comprehend the announcement of the success of <i>Faust</i>!</p></div> + +<p>Who was it said "the world goes round with revolutions"? It is a great +truth, whoever said it. Every new step in art, in progress along any +line, has cost something and has been fought for. Nothing fresh or good +has ever come into existence without a convulsion of the old, dried-up +forms. Beethoven was a revolutionist when he threw aside established +musical forms with the <i>Ninth Symphony</i>; Wagner was a revolutionist when +he contrived impossible intervals of the eleventh and the thirteenth, +and called them for the first time dissonant harmonies; so, also, was +Gounod when he departed from all accepted operatic forms and +institutions in <i>Faust</i>.<a name="page_079" id="page_079"></a></p> + +<p>You who have heard <i>Cari fior</i> upon the hand-organs in the street, and +have whistled the <i>Soldiers' Chorus</i> while you were in school; who have +even grown to regard the opera of <i>Faust</i> as old-fashioned and of light +weight, must re-focus your glass a bit and look at Gounod's masterpiece +from the point of view of nearly fifty years ago! It was just as +startling, just as strange, just as antagonistic to our established +musical habit as Strauss and Debussy and Dukas are to some persons +to-day. What is new must always be strange, and what is strange must, +except to a few adventurous souls, prove to be disturbing and, hence, +disagreeable. People say "it is different, therefore it must be wrong." +Even as battle, murder, and sudden death are upsetting to our lives, so +Gounod's bold harmonies, sweeping airs, and curious orchestration were +upsetting to the public ears.</p> + +<p>Not the public alone, either. Though from the first I was attracted and +fascinated by the "new music," it puzzled me vastly. Also, I found it +very difficult to sing. I, who had been accustomed to Linda and Gilda +and Martha, felt utterly at sea when I tried to sing what at that time +seemed to me the remarkable intervals of this strange, new, operatic +heroine, Marguerite. In the simple Italian school one knew approximately +what was ahead. A <i>recitative</i> was a fairly elementary affair. An <i>aria</i> +had no unexpected cadences, led to no striking nor unusual effects. But +in <i>Faust</i> the musical intelligence had an entirely new task and was +exercised quite differently from in anything that had gone before. This +sequence of notes was a new and unlearned language to me, which I had to +master before I could find freedom or ease. But when once mastered, how +the music enchanted<a name="page_080" id="page_080"></a> me; how it satisfied a thirst that had never been +satisfied by Donizetti or Bellini! Musically, I loved the part of +Marguerite—and I still love it. Dramatically, I confess to some +impatience over the imbecility of the girl. From the first I summarily +apostrophised her to myself as "a little fool!"</p> + +<p>Stupidity is really the keynote of Marguerite's character. She was not +quite a peasant—she and her brother owned their house, showing that +they belonged to the stolid, sound, sheltered burgher class. On the +other hand, she explicitly states to Faust that she is "not a lady and +needs no escort." In short, she was the ideal victim and was selected as +such by Mephistopheles who, whatever else he may have been, was a judge +of character. Marguerite was an easy dupe. She was entirely without +resisting power. She was dull, and sweet, and open to flattery. She +liked pretty things, with no more discrimination or taste than other +girls. She was a well-brought-up but uneducated young person of an +ignorant age and of a stupid class, and innocent to the verge of idiocy.</p> + +<p>I used to try and suggest the peasant blood in Marguerite by little +shynesses and awkwardnesses. After the first meeting with Faust I would +slyly stop and glance back at him with girlish curiosity to see what he +looked like. People found this "business" very pretty and convincing, +but I understand that I did not give the typically Teutonic bourgeois +impression as well as Federici, a German soprano who was heard in +America after me. She was of the class of Gretchen, and doubtless found +it easier to act like a peasant unused to having fine gentlemen speak to +her, than I did.</p> + +<p>There was very little general enthusiasm before the<a name="page_081" id="page_081"></a> production of +<i>Faust</i>. There were so few American musicians then that no one knew nor +cared about the music. Neither was the poem so well read as it was +later. The public went to the opera houses to hear popular singers and +familiar airs. They had not the slightest interest in a new opera from +an artistic standpoint.</p> + +<p>I had never been allowed to read Goethe's poem until I began to study +Marguerite. But even my careful mother was obliged to admit that I would +have to familiarise myself with the character before I interpreted it. +It is doubtful, even then, if I entered fully into the emotional and +psychological grasp of the <i>rôle</i>. All that part of it was with me +entirely mental. I could seize the complete mental possibilities of a +character and work them out intelligently long before I had any +emotional comprehension of them. As a case in point, when I sang Gilda I +gave a perfectly logical presentation of the character, but I am very +sure that I had not the least notion of what the latter part of +<i>Rigoletto</i> meant. Fear, grief, love, courage,—these were emotions that +I could accept and with which I could work; but I was still too immature +to have much conception of the great sex complications that underlay the +opera that I sang so peacefully. And I dare say that one reason why I +played Marguerite so well was because I was so ridiculously innocent +myself.</p> + +<p>Most of the Marguerites whom I have seen make her too sophisticated, too +complicated. The moment they get off the beaten path, they go to +extremes like Calvé and Farrar. It is very pleasant to be original and +daring in a part, but anything original or daring in connection with +Marguerite is a little like mixing<a name="page_082" id="page_082"></a> red pepper with vanilla <i>blanc +mange</i>. Nilsson, even, was too—shall I say, <i>knowing</i>? It seems the +only word that fits my meaning. Nilsson was much the most attractive of +all the Marguerites I have ever seen, yet she was altogether too +sophisticated for the character and for the period, although to-day I +suppose she would be considered quite mild. Lucca was an absolute little +devil in the part. She was, also, one of the Marguerites who wore black +hair. As for Patti—I have a picture of Adelina as Marguerite in which +she looks like Satan's own daughter, a young and feminine Mephistopheles +to the life. Once I heard <i>Faust</i> in the Segundo Teatro of Naples with +Alice Neilson, and thought she gave a charming performance. She was +greatly helped by not having to wear a wig. A wig, however becoming, and +no matter how well put on, does certainly do something strange to the +expression of a woman's face. This was what I had to have—a wig—and it +was one of the most dreadful difficulties in my preparations for the +great new part.</p> + +<p class="figcenter"> +<a href="images/clara_as_marguerite_1865_lg.jpg"> +<img src="images/clara_as_marguerite_1865_sml.jpg" width="379" height="550" alt="Clara Louise Kellogg as Marguerite, 1865 + +From a photograph by Sarony" title="" /></a> +<br /> +<span class="caption"><b>Clara Louise Kellogg as Marguerite, 1865</b><br /> + +From a photograph by Sarony</span> +</p> + +<p>A wig may sound like a simple requirement. But I wonder if anybody has +any idea how difficult it was to get a good wig in those days. Nobody in +America knew how to make one. There was no blond hair over here and none +could be procured, none being for sale. The poor affair worn by Mme. +Carvalho as Marguerite, illustrates what was then considered a +sufficient wig equipment. It is hardly necessary to add that to my +truth-loving soul no effort was too great to obtain an effect that +should be an improvement on this sort of thing. My own hair was so dark +as to look almost black behind the footlights, and in my mind there was +no doubt that Marguerite must be a blond. To-day <i>prime donne</i> besides +Lucca justify the use of<a name="page_083" id="page_083"></a> their own dark locks—notably Mme. Eames and +Miss Farrar—but I cannot help suspecting that this comes chiefly from a +wish to be original, to be <i>different</i> at all costs. There is no real +question but that the young German peasant was fair to the flaxen point. +Yet, though I knew how she should be, I found it was simpler as a theory +than as a fact. I tried powders—light brown powder, yellow powder, +finally, gold powder. The latter was little, I imagine, but brass +filings, and it gave the best effect of all my early experiments, +looking, so long as it stayed on my hair, very burnished and sunny. +But—it turned my scalp green! This was probably the verdigris from the +brass filings in the stuff. I was frightened enough to dispense entirely +with the whole gold and green effect; after which I experimented with +all the available wigs, in spite of a popular prejudice against them as +immovable. They were in general composed of hemp rope with about as much +look about them of real hair as—Mme. Carvalho's! I had, finally, to +wait until I could get a wig made in Europe and have it imported. When +it came at last, it was a beauty—although my hair troubles were not +entirely over even then. I had so much hair of my own that all the +braiding and pinning in the world would not eliminate it entirely, and +it had a tendency to stick out in lumps over my head even under the wig, +giving me some remarkable bumps of phrenological development. I will say +that we put it on pretty well in spite of all difficulties, my mother at +last achieving a way of brushing the hair of the wig into my own hair +and combining the two in such a way as to let the real hair act as a +padding and lining to the artificial braids. The result was very good, +but it was, I am inclined to believe, more trouble than it was<a name="page_084" id="page_084"></a> worth. +Wigs were so rare and, as a rule, so ugly in those days that my big, +blond perruque, that cost nearly $200 (the hair was sold by weight), +caused the greatest sensation. People not infrequently came behind the +scenes and begged to be allowed to examine it. Artists were not nearly +so sacred nor so safe from the public then. Now, it would be impossible +for a stranger to penetrate to a <i>prima donna's</i> dressing-room or hotel +apartment; but we were constantly assailed by the admiring, the critical +and, above all, the curious.</p> + +<p>Of course I did not know what to wear. My old friend Ella Porter was in +Paris at the time and went to see Carvalho in Marguerite, especially on +my account, and sent me rough drawings of her costumes. I did not like +them very well. I next studied von Kaulbach's pictures and those of +other German illustrators, and finally decided on the dress. First, I +chose for the opening act a simple blue and brown frock, such as an +upper-class peasant might wear. Everyone said it ought to be white, +which struck me as singularly out of place. German girls don't wear +frocks that have to be constantly washed. Not even now do they, and I am +certain they had even less laundry work in the period of the story. It +was said that a white gown in the first act would symbolise innocence. +In the face of all comment and suggestion, however, I wore the blue +dress trimmed with brown and it looked very well. Another one of my +points was that I did not try to make Marguerite angelically beautiful. +There is no reason to suppose that she was even particularly pretty. +"Henceforth," says Mephisto to the rejuvenated Faustus, "you will greet +a Helen in every wench you meet!"</p> + +<p>In the church scene I wore grey and, at first, a<a name="page_085" id="page_085"></a> different shade of +grey in the last act; but I changed this eventually to white because +white looked better when the angels were carrying me up to heaven.</p> + +<p>As for the cut of the dresses, I seem to have been the first person to +wear a bodice that fitted below the waist line like a corset. No living +mortal in America had ever seen such a thing and it became almost as +much of a curiosity as my wonderful golden wig. The theatre costumier +was horrified. She had never cared for my innovations in the way of +costuming, and her tradition-loving Latin soul was shocked to the core +by the new and dreadful make-up I proposed to wear as Marguerite.</p> + +<p>"I make for Grisi," she declared indignantly, "and I <i>nevair</i> see like +dat!"</p> + +<p>Well, I worked and struggled and slaved over every detail. No one else +did. There was no great effort made to have good scenic effects. The +lighting was absurd, and I had to fight for my pot of daisies in the +garden scene. The jewel box I provided myself, and the jewels. I +felt—O, how deeply I felt—that everything in my life, every note I had +sung, every day I had worked, had been merely preparation for this great +and lovely opera.</p> + +<p>Colonel Stebbins, who was anxious, said to Maretzek:</p> + +<p>"Don't you think she had better have a German coach in the part?"</p> + +<p>Maretzek, who had been watching me closely all along, shook his head.</p> + +<p>"Let her alone," he said. "Let her do it her own way."</p> + +<p>So the great night came around.</p> + +<p>There was no public excitement before the production. People knew +nothing about the new opera. On<a name="page_086" id="page_086"></a> the first night of <i>Faust</i> there was a +good house because, frankly, the public liked me! Nevertheless, in spite +of "me," the house was a little inanimate. The audience felt doubtful. +It was one thing to warm up an old and popular piece; but something +untried was very different! The public had none of the present-day +chivalry toward the first "try-out" of an opera.</p> + +<p>Mazzoleni of the cheese addiction was Faust, and on that first night he +had eaten even more than usual. In fact, he was still eating cheese when +the curtain went up and munched cheese at intervals all through the +laboratory scene. He was a big Italian with a voice as big as himself +and was, in a measure, one of Max Maretzek's "finds." "The Magnificent" +had taken an opera company to Havana when first the war slump came in +operatic affairs, and had made with it a huge success and a wide +reputation. Mazzoleni was one of the leading tenors of that company. He +sang Faust admirably, but dressed it in an atrocious fashion, looking +like a cross between a Jewish rabbi and a Prussian <i>gene d'arme</i>. Of +course, he gave no idea of the true age of Faust—the experienced, +mature point of view showing through the outward bloom of his artificial +youth. Very few Fausts do give this; and Mazzoleni suggested it rather +less than most of them. But the public was not enlightened enough to +realise the lack.</p> + +<p>Biachi was Mephistopheles. He was very good and sang the <i>Calf of Gold</i> +splendidly. Yet that solo, oddly enough, never "caught on" with our +houses. Biachi was one of the few artists of my day who gave real +thought and attention to the question of costuming. He took his general +scheme of dress from <i>Robert le Diable</i> and improved on it, and looked +very well<a name="page_087" id="page_087"></a> indeed. The woman he afterwards married was our contralto, a +Miss Sulzer, an American, who made an excellent Siebel and considered +her work seriously.</p> + +<p>At first everyone was stunned by the new treatment. In ordinary, +accepted operatic form there were certain things to be +expected;—<i>recitatives</i>, <i>andantes</i>, <i>arias</i>, choruses—all neatly laid +out according to rule. In this everything was new, startling, +overthrowing all traditions. About the middle of the evening some of my +friends came behind the scenes to my dressing-room with blank faces.</p> + +<p>"Heavens, Louise," they exclaimed, "what do you do in this opera anyway? +Everyone in the front of the house is asking 'where's the <i>prima +donna</i>?'"</p> + +<p>Indeed, an opera in which the heroine has nothing to do until the third +act might well have startled a public accustomed to the old Italian +forms. However, I assured everyone:</p> + +<p>"Don't worry. You'll get more than enough of me before the end of the +evening!"</p> + +<p>The house was not much stirred until the love scene. That was +breathless. We felt more and more that we were beginning to "get them."</p> + +<p>There were no modern effects of lighting; but a calcium was thrown on me +as I stood by the window, and I sang my very, very best. As Mazzoleni +came up to the window and the curtain went down there was a dead +silence.</p> + +<p>Not a hand for ten seconds. Ten seconds is a long time when one is +waiting on the stage. Time and the clock itself seemed to stop as we +stood there motionless and breathless. Maretzek had time to get through +the little orchestra door and up on the stage before the applause came. +We were standing as though paralysed,<a name="page_088" id="page_088"></a> waiting. We saw Maretzek's pale, +anxious face. The silence held a second longer; then—</p> + +<p>The house came down. The thunders echoed and beat about our wondering +ears.</p> + +<p>"Success!" gasped Maretzek, "success—success—<i>success</i>!"</p> + +<p>Yet read what the critics said about it. The musicians picked it to +pieces, of course, and so did the critics, much as the German reviewers +did Wagner's music dramas. The public came, however, packing the houses +to more than their capacity. People paid seven and eight dollars a seat +to hear that opera, an unheard-of thing in those days when two and three +dollars were considered a very fair price for any entertainment. +Furthermore, only the women occupied the seats on the <i>Faust</i> nights. I +speak in a general way, for there were exceptions. As a rule, however, +this was so, while the men stood up in regiments at the back of the +house. We gave twenty-seven performances of <i>Faust</i> in one season; seven +performances in Boston in four weeks; and I could not help the welcome +knowledge that, in addition to the success of the opera itself, I had +scored a big, personal triumph.</p> + +<p class="figcenter"> +<a href="images/clara_as_marguerite_1864_lg.jpg"> +<img src="images/clara_as_marguerite_1864_sml.jpg" width="322" height="550" alt="Clara Louise Kellogg as Marguerite, 1864 + +From a silhouette by Ida Waugh" title="" /></a> +<br /> +<span class="caption"><b>Clara Louise Kellogg as Marguerite, 1864</b><br /> + +From a silhouette by Ida Waugh</span> +</p> + +<p>As I have mentioned, we took wicked liberties with the operas, such as +introducing the <i>Star Spangled Banner</i> and similar patriotic songs into +the middle of Italian scores. I have even seen a highly tragic act of +<i>Poliuto</i> put in between the light and cheery scenes of <i>Martha</i>; and I +have myself sung the <i>Venzano</i> waltz at the end of this same <i>Martha</i>, +although the real quartette that is supposed to close the opera is much +more beautiful, and the <i>Clara Louise Polka</i> as a finish for <i>Linda di +Chamounix</i>! The <i>Clara Louise Polka</i> was written for me by my old +master, Muzio, and I never<a name="page_089" id="page_089"></a> thought much of it. Nothing could give +anyone so clear an idea of the universal acceptance of this custom of +interpolation as the following criticism, printed during our second +season:</p> + +<p>"The production of <i>Faust</i> last evening by the Maretzek troupe was +excellent indeed. But why, O why, the eternal <i>Soldiers' Chorus</i>? Why +this everlasting, tedious march, <i>when there are so many excellent band +pieces on the market that would fit the occasion better</i>?"</p> + +<p>As a rule the public were quite satisfied with this chorus. It was +whistled and sung all over the country and never failed to get eager +applause. But no part of the opera ever went so well as the <i>Salve +dimora</i> and the love scene. All the latter part of the garden act went +splendidly although nearly everyone was, or professed to be, shocked by +the frankness of the window episode that closes it. It is a pity those +simple-souled audiences could not have lived to see Miss Geraldine +Farrar draw Faust with her into the house at the fall of the curtain! +There is, indeed, a place for all things. <i>Faust</i> is not the place for +that sort of suggestiveness. It is a question, incidentally, whether any +stage production is; but the argument of that is outside our present +point.</p> + +<p>Dear Longfellow came to see the first performance of <i>Faust</i>; and the +next day he wrote a charming letter about it to Mr. James T. Fields of +Boston. Said he:</p> + +<p>"The Margaret was beautiful. She reminded me of Dryden's lines:</p> + +<table border="0" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" summary="poetry"> +<tr><td align="left"><span style="margin-left: 0em;">"'So pois'd, so gently she descends from high,</span></td></tr> +<tr><td align="left"><span style="margin-left: 0em;">It seems a soft dismission from the sky.'"</span></td></tr> +</table> + +<p><a name="page_090" id="page_090"></a></p> + +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_IX" id="CHAPTER_IX"></a>CHAPTER IX<br /><br /> +OPÉRA COMIQUE</h2> + +<p class="nind"><span class="letra">T</span>O most persons "opéra comique" means simply comic opera. If they make +any distinction at all it is to call it "high-class comic opera." As a +matter of fact, tragedy and comedy are hardly farther apart in spirit +than are the rough and farcical stuff that we look upon as comic opera +nowadays and the charming old pieces that formed the true "opéra +comique" some fifty years ago. "Opéra bouffe" even is many degrees below +"opéra comique." Yet "opéra bouffe" is, to my mind, something infinitely +superior and many steps higher than modern comic opera. So we have some +delicate differentiations to make when we go investigating in the fields +of light dramatic music.</p> + +<p>In Paris at the Comique they try to keep the older distinction in mind +when selecting their operas for production. There are exceptions to this +rule, as to others, for play-houses that specialise; but for the most +part these Paris managers choose operas that are light. I use the word +advisedly. By <i>light</i> I mean, literally, <i>not heavy</i>. Light music, light +drama, does not necessarily mean humorous. It may, on the contrary, be +highly pathetic and charged with sentiment. The only restriction is that +it shall not be expressed in the stentorian orchestration of a +Meyerbeer, nor in the heart-rending tragedy of a Wagner. In theme and<a name="page_091" id="page_091"></a> +in treatment, in melodies and in text, it must be of delicate fibre, +something easily seized and swiftly assimilated, something intimate, +perfumed, and agreeable, with no more harshness of emotion than of +harmony.</p> + +<p>Judged by this standard such operas as <i>Martha</i>, <i>La Bohème</i>, even +<i>Carmen</i>—possibly, even <i>Werther</i>—are not entirely foreign to the +requirements of "opéra comique." <i>Le Donne Curiose</i> may be considered as +an almost perfect revival and exemplification of the form. A careful +differentiation discovers that humour, a happy ending, and many +rollicking melodies do not at all make an "opéra comique." These +qualities all belong abundantly to <i>Die Meistersinger</i> and to Verdi's +<i>Falstaff</i>, yet these great operas are no nearer being examples of +genuine "comique" than <i>Les Huguenots</i> is or <i>Götterdämmerung</i>.</p> + +<p>It was my good fortune to sing in the space of a year three delightful +<i>rôles</i> in "opéra comique," each of which I enjoyed hugely. They were +Zerlina in <i>Fra Diavolo</i>; Rosina in <i>Il Barbiere</i>; and Annetta in +<i>Crispino e la Comare</i>. <i>Fra Diavolo</i> was first produced in Italian in +America during the autumn of 1864, the year after I appeared in +Marguerite, and it remained one of our most popular operas throughout +the season of '65-66. I loved it and always had a good time the nights +it was given. We put it on for my "benefit" at the end of the regular +winter season at the Academy. The season closed with the old year and +the "benefit" took place on the 28th of December. The "benefit" custom +was very general in those days. Everybody had one a year and so I had to +have mine, or, at least, Maretzek thought I had to have it. <i>Fra +Diavolo</i> was his choice for this occasion as I had made<a name="page_092" id="page_092"></a> one of my best +successes in the part of Zerlina, and the opera had been the most liked +in our whole <i>répertoire</i> with the exception of <i>Faust</i>. <i>Faust</i> had +remained from the beginning our most unconditional success, our <i>cheval +de bataille</i>, and never failed to pack the house.</p> + +<p>I don't know quite why that <i>Fra Diavolo</i> night stands out so happily +and vividly in my memory. I have had other and more spectacular +"benefits"; but that evening there seemed to be the warmest and most +personal of atmospheres in the old Academy. The audience was full of +friends and, what with the glimpses I had of these familiar faces and my +loads of lovely flowers and the kindly, intimate enthusiasm that greeted +my appearance, I felt as if I were at a party and not playing a +performance at all. I had to come out again and again; and finally +became so wrought up that I was nearly in tears.</p> + +<p>As a climax I was entirely overcome when I suddenly turned to find +Maretzek standing beside me in the middle of the stage, smiling at me in +a friendly and encouraging manner. I had not the slightest idea what his +presence there at that moment meant. The applause stopped instantly. +Whereupon "Max the Magnificent" made a little speech in the quick hush, +saying charming and overwhelming things about the young girl whose +musical beginning he had watched and who in a few years had reached "a +high pinnacle in the world of art. The young girl"—he went on to +say—"who at twenty-one was the foremost <i>prima donna</i> of America."</p> + +<p>"And now, my dear Miss Kellogg," he wound up with, holding out to me a +velvet case, "I am instructed by the stockholders of the Opera Company +to hand you<a name="page_093" id="page_093"></a> this, to remind you of their admiration and their pride in +you!"</p> + +<p>I took the case; and the house cheered and cheered as I lifted out of it +a wonderful flashing diamond bracelet and diamond ring. Of course I +couldn't speak. I could hardly say "thank you." I just ran off with eyes +and heart overflowing to the wings where my mother was waiting for me.</p> + +<p>The bracelet and the ring are among the dearest things I possess. Their +value to me is much greater than any money could be, for they symbolise +my young girl's sudden comprehension of the fact that I had made my +countrymen proud of me! That seemed like the high-water mark; the finest +thing that could happen.</p> + +<p>Annetta was my second creation. There could hardly be imagined a greater +contrast than she presented to the part of Marguerite. Gretchen was all +the virtues in spite of her somewhat spectacular career; gentleness and +sweetness itself. Annetta, the ballad singer, was quite the opposite. I +must say that I really enjoyed making myself shrewish, sparkling, and +audacious. Perhaps I thus took out in the lighter <i>rôles</i> I sang many of +my own suppressed tendencies. Although I lived such an essentially +ungirlish life, I was, nevertheless, full of youthful feeling and high +spirits, so, when I was Annetta or Zerlina or Rosina, I had a flying +chance to "bubble" just a little bit. Merriment is one of the finest and +most helpful emotions in the world and I dare say we all have the +possibilities of it in us, one way or another. But it is a shy sprite +and does not readily come to one's call. I often think that the art, or +the ability,—on the stage or off it—which makes people truly and +innocently gay, is very high in the scale of human importance.<a name="page_094" id="page_094"></a> +Personally, I have never been happier than when I was frolicking through +some entirely light-weight opera, full of whims and quirks and laughing +music. I used to feel intimately in touch with the whole audience then, +as though they and I were sharing some exquisite secret or delicious +joke; and I would reach a point of ease and spontaneity which I have +never achieved in more serious work.</p> + +<p><i>Crispino</i> had made a tremendous hit in Paris the year before when +Malibran had sung Annetta with brilliant success. It has been sometimes +said that Grisi created the <i>rôle</i> of Annetta in America; but I still +cling to the claim of that distinction for myself. The composers of the +opera were the Rice brothers. I do not know of any other case where an +opera has been written fraternally; and it was such a highly successful +little opera that I wish I knew more about the two men who were +responsible for it. All that I remember clearly is that they both of +them knew music thoroughly and that one of them taught it as a +profession.</p> + +<p>Our first Cobbler in <i>Crispino e la Comare</i> ("The Cobbler and the +Fairy") was Rovere, a good Italian buffo baritone. He was one of those +extraordinary artists whose art grows and increases with time and, by +some law of compensation, comes more and more to take the place of mere +voice. Rovere was in his prime in 1852 when he sang in America with Mme. +Alboni. Later, when he sang with me, a few of the New York critics +remembered him and knew his work and agreed that he was "as good as +ever." His voice—no. But his art, his method, his delightful +manner—these did not deteriorate. On the contrary, they matured and +ripened. Our second Cobbler, Ronconi,<a name="page_095" id="page_095"></a> was even more remarkable. He was, +I believe, one of the finest Italian baritones that ever lived, and he +succeeded in getting a degree of genuine high comedy out of the part +that I have never seen surpassed. He used to tell of himself a story of +the time when he was singing in the Royal Opera of Petersburg. The +Czar—father of the one who was murdered—said to him once:</p> + +<p>"Ronconi, I understand that you are so versatile that you can express +tragedy with one side of your face when you are singing and comedy with +the other. How do you do it?"</p> + +<p>"Your Majesty," rejoined Ronconi, "when I sing <i>Maria de Rohan</i> +to-morrow night I will do myself the honour of showing you."</p> + +<p>And, accordingly, the next evening he managed to turn one side of his +face, grim as the Tragic Mask, to the audience, while the other, which +could be seen from only the Imperial Box, was excessively humorous and +cheerful. The Czar was greatly amused and delighted with the exhibition.</p> + +<p>Once in London, Santley was talking with me about this great baritone +and said:</p> + +<p>"Ronconi did something with a phrase in the sextette of <i>Lucia</i> that I +have gone to hear many and many a night. I never could manage to catch +it or comprehend how he gave so much power and expression to</p> + +<p class="figcenter"> +<a href="images/ill_pg_095_lg.png"> +<img src="images/ill_pg_095_sml.png" width="550" height="108" alt="Musical notation; Ah! è mio san-gue, l'ho-tra-di-ta!" title="" /></a> +</p> + +<p>Ronconi was deliciously amusing, also, as the Lord in <i>Fra Diavolo</i>. He +sang it with me the first time it was ever done here in Italian, when +Theodor Habelmann<a name="page_096" id="page_096"></a> was our Diavolo. Though he was a round-faced German, +he was so dark of skin and so finely built that he made up excellently +as an Italian; and he had been thoroughly trained in the splendid school +of German light opera. He was really picturesque, especially in a +wonderful fall he made from one precipice to another. We were not +accustomed to falls on the stage over here, and had never seen anything +like it. Ronconi sang with me some years later, as well, when I gave +English opera throughout the country, and I came to know him quite well. +He was a man of great elegance and decorum.</p> + +<p>"You know," he said to me once, "I'm a sly dog—a very sly dog indeed! +When I sing off the key on the stage or do anything like that, I always +turn and look in an astounded manner at the person singing with me as if +to say 'what on earth did you do that for?' and the other artist, +perfectly innocent, invariably looks guilty! O, I'm a <i>very</i> sly dog!"</p> + +<p><i>Don Pasquale</i> was another of our "opéra comique" ventures, as well as +<i>La Dame Blanche</i> and <i>Masaniello</i>. It was a particularly advantageous +choice at the time because it required neither chorus nor orchestra. We +sang it with nothing but a piano by way of accompaniment; which possibly +was a particularly useful arrangement for us when we became short of +cash, for we—editorially, or, rather, managerially speaking—were +rather given in those early seasons to becoming suddenly "hard up," +especially when to the poor operatic conditions, engendered +spasmodically by the war news, was added the wet blanket of Lent which, +in those days, was observed most rigidly.</p> + +<p>Of the three <i>rôles</i>, Zerlina, Rosina, and Annetta, I always preferred +that of Rosina. It was one of<a name="page_097" id="page_097"></a> my best <i>rôles</i>, the music being +excellently placed for me. <i>Il Barbiere</i> had led the school of "opéra +comique" for years, but soon, one after the other, the new +operas—notably <i>Crispino</i>—were hailed as the legitimate successor of +<i>Il Barbiere</i>, and their novelty gave them a drawing power in advance of +their rational value. In addition to my personal liking for the <i>rôle</i> +of Rosina, I always felt that, although the other operas were charming +in every way, they musically were not quite in the class with Rossini's +masterpiece. The light and delicate qualities of this form of operatic +art have never been given so perfectly as by him. I wish <i>Il Barbiere</i> +were more frequently heard.</p> + +<p>Yet I was fond of <i>Fra Diavolo</i> too. I was forever working at the <i>rôle</i> +of Zerlina or, rather, playing at it, for the old "opéra comique" was +never really work to me. It was all infectious and inspiring; the music +full of melody; the story light and pretty. Many of the critics said +that I ought to specialise in comedy, cut out my tragic and romantic +<i>rôles</i>, and attempt even lighter music and characterisation than +Zerlina. People seemed particularly to enjoy my "going to bed" scene. +They praised my "neatness and daintiness" and found the whole picture +very pretty and attractive. I used to take off my skirt first, shake it +well, hang it on a nail, then discover a spot and carefully rub it out. +That little bit of "business" always got a laugh—I do not quite know +why. Then I would take off my bodice dreamily as I sang: +"To-morrow—yes, to-morrow I am to be married!"</p> + +<p class="figcenter"> +<a href="images/ill_pg_097_lg.png"> +<img src="images/ill_pg_097_sml.png" width="550" height="95" alt="Musical notation; Si, do-ma-ni, Si, do-ma-ni sa-rem +ma-ri-to e moghi," title="musical notation" /></a> +</p> + +<p><a name="page_098" id="page_098"></a></p> + +<p>One night while I was carrying the candle in that scene a gust of wind +from the wings made the flame gutter badly and a drop of hot grease fell +on my hand. Instinctively I jumped and shook my hand without thinking +what I was doing. There was a perfect gale of laughter from the house. +After that, I always pretended to drop the grease on my hand, always +gave the little jump, and always got my laugh.</p> + +<p>As I say, nearly everybody liked that scene. I was myself so girlish +that it never struck anybody as particularly suggestive or immodest +until one night an old couple from the country came to see the opera and +created a mild sensation by getting up and going out in the middle of +it. The old man was heard to say, as he hustled his meek spouse up the +aisle of the opera house:</p> + +<p>"Mary, we'd better get out of this! It may be all right for city folks, +but it's no place for us. We may be green; but, by cracky,—we're +<i>decent</i>!"<a name="page_099" id="page_099"></a></p> + +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_X" id="CHAPTER_X"></a>CHAPTER X<br /><br /> +ANOTHER SEASON AND A LITTLE MORE SUCCESS</h2> + +<p class="nind"><span class="letra">O</span>NE of the pleasant affairs that came my way that year was Sir Morton +Peto's banquet in October. Sir Morton was a distinguished Englishman who +represented big railway interests in Great Britain and who was then +negotiating some new and important railroading schemes on this side of +the water. There were two hundred and fifty guests; practically +everybody present, except my mother and myself, standing for some large +financial power of the United States. I felt much complimented at being +invited, for it was at a period when very great developments were in the +making. America was literally teeming with new projects and plans and +embryonic interests.</p> + +<p>The banquet was given at Delmonico's, then at Fifth Avenue and +Fourteenth Street, and the rooms were gorgeous in their drapings of +American and English flags. The war was about drawing to its close and +patriotism was at white heat. The influential Americans were in the mood +to wave their banners and to exchange amenities with foreign potentates. +Sir Morton was a noted capitalist and his banquet was a sort of "hands +across the sea" festival. He used, I recall, to stop at the Clarendon, +now torn down and its site occupied by a commercial "sky scraper," but +then the smart hostelry of the town.<a name="page_100" id="page_100"></a></p> + +<p>I sang that night after dinner. My services had not been engaged +professionally, so, when Sir Morton wanted to reward me lavishly, I of +course did not care to have him do so. We were still so new to <i>prime +donne</i> in New York that we had no social code or precedent to refer to +with regard to them; and I preferred, personally, to keep the episode on +a purely friendly and social basis. I was an invited guest only who had +tried to do her part for the entertainment of the others. I was +honoured, too. It was an experience to which anyone could look back with +pride and pleasure.</p> + +<p>But, being English, Sir Morton Peto had a solution and, within a day or +two, sent me an exquisite pearl and diamond bracelet. It is odd how much +more delicately and graciously than Americans all foreigners—of +whatever nationality indeed—can relieve a situation of awkwardness and +do the really considerate and appreciative thing which makes such a +situation all right. I later found the same tactful qualities in the +Duke of Newcastle who, with his family, were among the closest friends I +had in England. Indeed, I was always much impressed with the good taste +of English men and women in this connection.</p> + +<p>An instance of the American fashion befell me during the winter of +'63-'64 on the occasion of a big reception that was given by the father +of Brander Matthews. I was invited to go and asked to sing, my host +saying that if I would not accept a stipulated price he would be only +too glad to make me a handsome present of some kind. The occasion turned +out to be very unfortunate and unpleasant altogether, both at the time +and with regard to the feeling that grew out of it. I happened to wear a +dress that was nearly new, a handsome<a name="page_101" id="page_101"></a> and expensive gown, and this was +completely ruined by a servant upsetting melted ice cream over it. My +host and hostess were all concern, saying that, as they were about to go +to Paris, they would buy me a new one. I immediately felt that if they +did this, they would consider the dress as an equivalent for my singing +and that I should never hear anything more of the handsome present. Of +course I said nothing of this, however, to anyone. Well—they went to +Paris. Days and weeks passed. I heard nothing from them about either +dress or present. I went to Europe. They called on me in Paris. In the +course of time we all came home to America; and the night after my +return I received a long letter and a set of Castilian gold jewelry, +altogether inadequate as an equivalent. There was nothing to do but to +accept it, which I did, and then proceeded to give away the ornaments as +I saw fit. The whole affair was uncomfortable and a discredit to my +entertainers. Not only had I lost a rich dress through the carelessness +of one of their servants, but I received a very tardy and inadequate +recompense for my singing. I had refused payment in money because it was +the custom to do so. But I was a professional singer, and I had been +asked to the reception as a professional entertainer. This, however, I +must add, is the most flagrant case that has ever come under my personal +notice of an American host or hostess failing to "make good" at the +expense of a professional.</p> + +<p>Well—from time to time after Sir Morton's banquet, I sang in concert. +On one occasion I replaced Euphrosyne Parepa—she had not then married +Carl Rosa—at one of the Bateman concerts. The Meyerbeer craze was then +at its height. Good, sound music it was too, if a little brazen and +noisy. <i>L'Étoile du Nord</i><a name="page_102" id="page_102"></a> (I don't understand why we always speak of it +as <i>L'Étoile du Nord</i> when we never once sang it in French) had been +sung in America by my old idol, Mme. de la Grange, nearly ten years +before I essayed Catarina. My <i>première</i> in the part was given in +Philadelphia; but almost immediately we came back to New York for the +spring opera season and I sang <i>The Star</i> as principal attraction. Later +on I sang it in Boston.</p> + +<p>It was always good fun playing in Boston, for the Harvard boys adored +"suping" and we had our extra men almost without the asking. They were +such nice, clean, enthusiastic chaps! The reason why I remember them so +clearly is that I never can forget how surprised I was when, in the boat +at the end of the first act of <i>The Star of the North</i>, I chanced to +look down and caught sight of Peter Barlow (now Judge Barlow) grinning +up at me from a point almost underneath me on the stage, and how I +nearly fell out of the boat!</p> + +<p>We had difficulty in finding a satisfactory Prascovia. Prascovia is an +important soprano part, and had to be well taken. At last Albites +suggested a pupil of his. This was Minnie Hauck. Prascovia was sung at +our first performance by Mlle. Bososio who was not equal to the part. +Minnie Hauck came into the theatre and sang a song of Meyerbeer's, and +we knew that we had found our Prascovia. Her voice was very light but +pleasing and well-trained, for Albites was a good teacher. She +undoubtedly would add value to our cast. So she made her <i>début</i> as +Prascovia, although she afterwards became better known to the public as +one of the most famous of the early Carmens. Indeed, many people +believed that she created that <i>rôle</i> in America although, as a matter +of fact, I sang Carmen several months before she did.<a name="page_103" id="page_103"></a> As Prascovia she +and I had a duet together, very long and elaborate, which we introduced +after the tent scene and which made an immense hit. We always received +many flowers after it—I, particularly, to be quite candid. By this time +I was called The Flower Prima Donna because of the quantities of +wonderful blossoms that were sent to me night after night. When singing +<i>The Star of the North</i> there was one bouquet that I was sure of getting +regularly from a young man who always sent the same kind of flowers. I +never needed a card on them or on the box to know from whom they came. +Miss Hauck used to help me pick up my bouquets. The only trouble was +that every one she picked up she kept! As a rule I did not object, and, +anyway, I might have had difficulty in proving that she had appropriated +my flowers after she had taken the cards off: but one night she included +in her general haul my own special, unmistakable bouquet! I recognised +it, saw her take it, but, as there was no card, had the greatest +difficulty in getting it away from her. I did, though, in the end.</p> + +<p>Minnie Hauck was very pushing and took advantage of everything to +forward and help herself. She never had the least apprehension about the +outcome of anything in which she was engaged and, in this, she was +extremely fortunate, for most persons cursed with the artistic +temperament are too sensitive to feel confident. She was clever, too. +This is another exception, for very few big singers are clever. I think +it is Mme. Maeterlinck who has made use of the expression "too clever to +sing well." I am convinced that there is quite a truth in it as well as +a sarcasm. Wonderful voices usually are given to people who are, +intrinsically, more or less nonentities. One cannot have everything<a name="page_104" id="page_104"></a> in +this world, and people with brains are not obliged to sing! But Minnie +Hauck was a singer and she was also clever. If I remember rightly, she +married some scientific foreign baron and lived afterwards in Lucerne.</p> + +<p>Once I heard of a soldier who was asked to describe Waterloo and who +replied that his whole impression of the battle consisted of a mental +picture of the kind of button that was on the coat of the man in front +of him. It is so curiously true that one's view of important events is +often a very small one,—especially when it comes to a matter of mere +memory. Accordingly, I find my amethysts are almost my most vivid +recollection in connection with <i>L'Étoile du Nord</i>. I wanted a set of +really handsome stage jewelry for Catarina. In fact, I had been looking +for such a set for some time. There are many <i>rôles</i>, Violetta for +instance, for which rich jewels are needed. My friends were on the +lookout for me, also, and it was while I was preparing for <i>The Star of +the North</i> that a man I knew came hurrying in with a wonderful tale of a +set of imitation amethysts that he had discovered, and that were, he +thought, precisely what I was looking for.</p> + +<p>"The man who has them," he told me, "bought them at a bankrupt sale for +ninety-six dollars and they are a regular white elephant to him. Of +course, they are suitable only for the stage; and he has been hunting +for months for some actress who would buy them. You'd better take a look +at them, anyhow."</p> + +<p>I had the set sent to me and, promptly, went wild over it. The stones, +that ranged from the size of a bean to that of a large walnut, appeared +to be as perfect as genuine amethysts, and the setting—genuine soft, +old, worked gold—was really exquisite. There<a name="page_105" id="page_105"></a> were seventy stones in +the whole set, which included a necklace, a bracelet, a large brooch, +ear-rings and a most gorgeous tiara. The colour of the gems was very +deep and lovely, bordering on a claret tone rather than violet. The +crown was apparently symbolic or suggestive of some great house. It was +made of roses, shamrocks, and thistles, and every piece in the set was +engraved with a small hare's head. I wish I knew heraldry and could tell +to whom the lovely ornaments had first belonged. Of course I bought +them, paying one hundred and fifty dollars for the set, which the man +was glad enough to get. I wore it in <i>The Star</i> and in other operas, and +one day I took it down to Tiffany's to have it cleaned and repaired.</p> + +<p>The man there, who knew me, examined it with interest.</p> + +<p>"It will cost you one hundred and seventy dollars," he informed me.</p> + +<p>"What!" I gasped. "That is more than the whole set is worth!"</p> + +<p>He looked at me as if he thought I must be a little crazy.</p> + +<p>"Miss Kellogg," he said, "if you think that, I don't believe you know +what you've really got. What do you think this jewelry is really worth?"</p> + +<p>"I don't know," I admitted. "What do you think it is worth?"</p> + +<p>"Roughly speaking," he replied, "I should say about six thousand +dollars. The workmanship is of great value, and every one of the stones +is genuine."</p> + +<p>Through all these years, therefore, I have been fearful that some Rip +Van Winkle claimant might rise up and take my beloved amethysts away +from me!</p> + +<p>My general impressions of this period of my life<a name="page_106" id="page_106"></a> include those of the +two great pianists, Thalberg and Gottschalk. They were both wonderful, +although I always admired Gottschalk more than the former. Thalberg had +the greater technique; Gottschalk the greater charm. Sympathetically, +the latter musician was better equipped than the former. The very +simplest thing that Gottschalk played became full of fascination. +Thalberg was marvellously perfect as to his method; but it was +Gottschalk who could "play the birds off the trees and the heart out of +your breast," as the Irish say. Thalberg's work was, if I may put it so, +mental; Gottschalk's was temperamental.</p> + +<p>Gottschalk was one of the first big pianists to come to New York +touring. He was from New Orleans, having been born there in the French +Quarter, and spoke only French, like so many persons from that city up +to thirty years ago. But he had been educated abroad and always ranked +as a foreign artist. He must have been a Jew, from his name. Certainly, +he looked like one. He had peculiarly drooping eyelids and was +considered to be very attractive. He wrote enchanting Spanish-sounding +songs; and gave the banjo quite a little dignity by writing a piece +imitating it, much to my delight, because of my fondness for that +instrument. He was in no way a classical pianist. Thalberg was. Indeed, +they were altogether different types. Thalberg was nothing like so +interesting either as a personality or as a musician, although he was +much more scholarly than his predecessor. I say predecessor, because +Thalberg followed Gottschalk in the touring proposition. Gottschalk +began his work before I began mine, and I first sang with him in my +second season. He and I figured in the same concerts not only in those +early days but also much later.<a name="page_107" id="page_107"></a></p> + +<p class="figcenter"> +<a href="images/gottschalk_lg.jpg"> +<img src="images/gottschalk_sml.jpg" width="372" height="550" alt="Gottschalk + +Photograph by Case & Getchell" title="" /></a> +<br /> +<span class="caption"><b>Gottschalk</b><br /> + +Photograph by Case & Getchell</span> +</p> + +<p>Gottschalk was a gay deceiver and women were crazy about him. Needless +to say, my mother never let me have anything to do with him except +professionally. He was pursued by adoring females wherever he went and +inundated with letters from girls who had lost their hearts to his +exquisite music and magnetic personality. I shall always remember +Gottschalk and Brignoli comparing their latest love letters from matinée +girls. Some poor, silly maiden had written to Gottschalk asking for a +meeting at any place he would appoint. Said Gottschalk:</p> + +<p>"It would be rather fun to make a date with her at some absurd, +impossible place,—say a ferry-boat, for instance."</p> + +<p>"Nonsense," said Brignoli, "a ferry-boat is not romantic enough. She +wouldn't think of coming to a ferry-boat to meet her ideal!"</p> + +<p>"She would come anywhere," declared Gottschalk, not at all +vaingloriously, but as one stating a simple truth. "I'll make her come; +and you shall come too and see her do it!"</p> + +<p>"Will you bet?" asked Brignoli.</p> + +<p>"I certainly will," replied Gottschalk.</p> + +<p>They promptly put up quite a large sum of money and Gottschalk won. That +dear, miserable goose of a girl did go to the ferry-boat to meet the +illustrious pianist of her adoration, and Brignoli was there to see. If +only girls knew as much as I do about the way in which their stage +heroes take their innocent adulation, and the wicked light-heartedness +with which they make fun of it! But they do not; and the only way to +teach them, I suppose, is to let them learn by themselves, poor little +idiots.</p> + +<p>As I look back I feel a continual sense of outrage<a name="page_108" id="page_108"></a> that I mixed so +little with the people and affairs that were all about me; interesting +people and important affairs. My dear mother adored me. It is strange +that we can never even be adored in the particular fashion in which we +would prefer to be adored! My mother's way was to guard me eternally; +she would have called it protecting me. But, really, it was a good deal +like shutting me up in a glass case, and it was a great pity. My mother +was an extraordinarily fine woman, upright as the day and of an unusual +mentality. Uncompromising she was, not unnaturally, according to her +heritage of race and creed and generation. Yet I sometimes question if +she were as uncompromising as she used to seem to me, for was not the +life she led with me, as well as her acceptance of it in the beginning, +one long compromise between her nature and the actualities? At any rate, +where she seemed to draw the line was in keeping me as much as possible +aloof from my inevitable associates. I led a deadly dull and virtuous +life, of necessity. To be sure, I might have been just as virtuous or +even more so had I been left to my own devices and judgments; but I +contend that such a life is not up to much when it is compulsory. +Personal responsibility is necessary to development. Perhaps I reaped +certain benefits from my mother's close chaperonage. Certainly, if there +were benefits about it, I reaped them. But I very much question its +ultimate advantage to me, and I confess freely that one of the things I +most regret is the innocent, normal coquetry which is the birthright of +every happy girl and which I entirely missed. It is all very well to be +carefully guarded and to be made the archetype of American virtue on the +stage, but there is a great deal of entirely innocuous amusement that I +might have<a name="page_109" id="page_109"></a> had and did not have, which I should have been better off +for having. My mother could hardly let me hold a friendly conversation +with a man—much less a flirtation.</p> + +<p class="figcenter"> +<a href="images/jane_crosby_lg.jpg"> +<img src="images/jane_crosby_sml.jpg" width="342" height="550" alt="Jane Elizabeth Crosby + +Mother of Clara Louise Kellogg + +From a tintype" title="" /></a> +<br /> +<span class="caption"><b>Jane Elizabeth Crosby</b><br /> + +Mother of Clara Louise Kellogg + +From a tintype</span> +</p><p><a name="page_110" id="page_110"></a></p> + +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XI" id="CHAPTER_XI"></a>CHAPTER XI<br /><br /> +THE END OF THE WAR</h2> + +<p class="nind"><span class="letra">T</span>HE Civil War was now coming to its close. Abraham Lincoln was the hero +of the day, as he has been of all days since, in America. The White +House was besieged with people from all walks of life, persistently +anxious to shake hands with the War President, and he used to have to +stand, for incredible lengths of time, smiling and hand-clasping. But he +was ever a fine economist of energy and he flatly refused to talk. No +one could get out of him more than a smile, a nod, or possibly a brief +word of greeting.</p> + +<p>One man made a bet that he would have some sort of conversation with the +President while he was shaking hands with him.</p> + +<p>"No, you won't," said the man to whom he was speaking, "I'll bet you +that you won't get more than two words out of him!"</p> + +<p>"I bet I will," said the venturesome one; and he set off to try his +luck.</p> + +<p>He went to the White House reception and, when his turn came and his +hand was in the huge presidential grasp, he began to talk hastily and +volubly, hoping to elicit some response. Lincoln listened a second, +gazing at him gravely with his deep-set eyes, and then he laid an +enormous hand in a loose, wrinkled white glove across his back.<a name="page_111" id="page_111"></a></p> + +<p>"Don't dwell!" said he gently to his caller; and shoved him along, +amiably but relentlessly, with the rest of the line. So the man got only +his two words after all.</p> + +<p>One week before the President was murdered I was in Washington and sat +in the exact place in which he sat when he was shot. It was the same +box, the same chair, and on Friday too,—one week to the day and hour +before the tragedy. When I heard the terrible news I was able to picture +exactly what it had been like. I could see just the jump that Booth must +have had to make to get away. I never knew Wilkes Booth personally nor +saw him act, but I have several times seen him leaving his theatre after +a performance, with a raft of adoring matinée girls forming a more or +less surreptitous guard afar off. He was a tremendously popular idol and +strikingly handsome. Even after his wicked crime there were many women +who professed a sort of hysterical sympathy and pity for him. Somebody +has said that there would always be at least one woman at the death-bed +of the worst criminal in the world if she could get to it; and there +were hundreds of the sex who would have been charmed to watch beside +Booth's, bad as he was and crazy into the bargain. It is a mysterious +thing, the fascination that criminals have for some people, particularly +women. Perhaps it is fundamentally a respect for accomplishment; +admiration for the doing of something, good or evil, that they would not +dare to do themselves.</p> + +<p>We had all gone to Chicago for our spring opera season and were ready to +open, when the tragic tidings came and shut down summarily upon every +preparation for amusement of any kind. Every city in the Union went into +mourning for the man whom the<a name="page_112" id="page_112"></a> country idolised; of whom so many people +spoke as <i>our</i> "Abraham Lincoln." Perhaps it was because of this +universal and almost personal affection that the authorities did such an +odd thing—or, at least, it struck me as odd,—with his body. He was +taken all over the country and "lay-in-state," as it is called, in +different court houses in different states.</p> + +<p>I was stopping in the Grand Pacific Hotel when the body was brought to +Chicago, and my windows overlooked the grounds of the Court House of +that city. Business was entirely suspended, not simply for a few +memorial moments as was the case when President McKinley was killed, but +for many hours during the "lying-in-state." This, however, was probably +only partly official. Everyone was so afraid that he would not be able +to see the dead hero's face that business men all over the town +suspended occupation, closed shops and offices, and made a pilgrimage to +the Court House. All citizens were permitted to go into the building and +look upon the Martyr President, and vast numbers availed themselves of +the privilege—waited all night, indeed, to claim it. From sunset to +sunrise the grounds were packed with a silent multitude. The only sound +to be heard was the shuffling echo of feet as one person after another +went quietly into the Court House, shuffle, shuffle, shuffle,—I can +hear it yet. There was not a word uttered. There was no other sound than +the sound of the passing feet. One thing that must have been official +was that, for quite a long time, not a wheel in the city was allowed to +turn. This was an impressive tribute to a man whom the whole American +nation loved and counted a friend.</p> + +<p>The only diversion in the whole melancholy solemnity<a name="page_113" id="page_113"></a> of it all was the +picking of pockets. The crowds were enormous, the people in a mood of +sentiment and off their guard, and the army of crooks did a thriving +business. It is a sickening thing to realise that in all hours of great +national tragedy or terror there will always be people degenerate enough +to take advantage of the suffering and ruin about them. Burning or +plague-stricken cities have to be put under military law; and it is said +that to the multiplied horrors of the San Francisco earthquake the +people look back with a shudder to the ghastly system of looting which +prevailed afterwards in the stricken city.</p> + +<p>Every imaginable kind of flowers were sent to the dead President, +splendid wreaths and bouquets from distinguished personages, and many +little cheap humble nosegays from poor people who had loved him even +from afar and wanted to honour him in some simple way. No man has ever +been loved more in his death than was Abraham Lincoln.</p> + +<p>I sent a cross of white camellias. I do not like camellias when they are +sent to me, because they always seem such heartless, soulless flowers +for living people to wear. But just for that reason, just because they +are the most perfect and the most impersonal of all flowers that grow +and blossom they seem right and suitable for death. Ever since that time +I have associated white camellias with the thought of Abraham Lincoln +and with my strange, impressive memory of those days in Chicago.</p> + +<p>However, nations go on even after the beloved rulers of them are laid in +the ground. Our Chicago season opened soon—I in Lucia—and everything +went along as though nothing had happened. The only difference was that +the end of the war had made<a name="page_114" id="page_114"></a> the nation a little drunk with excitement +and our performances went with a whirl.</p> + +<p>Finally the victorious generals, Lieutenant-General Grant and +Major-General Sherman, came to Chicago as the guests of the city and we +gave a gala performance for them. As the <i>Daughter of the Regiment</i> had +been our choice to inaugurate the commencement of the great conflict, so +the <i>Daughter of the Regiment</i> was also our choice to commemorate its +close. The whole opera house was gay with flags and flowers and +decorations, and the generals were given the two stage boxes, one on +each side of the house. The audience began to come in very early; and it +was a huge one. The curtain had not yet risen—indeed, I was in my +dressing-room still making-up—when I heard the orchestra break into +<i>See the Conquering Hero Comes</i>, and then the roof nearly came off with +the uproar of the people cheering. I sent to find out what was +happening, and was told that General Grant had just entered his box. We +were ridiculously excited behind the scenes, all of us; even the +foreigners. They were such emotional creatures that they flung +themselves into a mood of general excitement even when it was based on a +patriotism to which they were aliens. The wild and jubilant state of the +audience infected us. I had felt something of the same emotion in +Washington at the beginning of the war, when we had done <i>Figlia</i> +before, to the frantically enthusiastic houses there. Yet that was +different. Mingled with that feeling there had been a grimness and pain +and apprehension. Now everyone was triumphant and happy and emotionally +exultant.</p> + +<p>General Sherman came into his box early in the first act and the +orchestra had to stop while the house<a name="page_115" id="page_115"></a> cheered him, and cheered again. +Sherman was always just a bit theatrical and loved applause, and he, +with his staff, stood bowing and smiling and bowing and smiling. The +whole proceeding took almost the form of a great military reception. As +I look back at it, I think one of the moments of the evening was created +by our basso, Susini. Susini—himself a soldier of courage and +experience, a veteran of the Italian rebellion—made his entrance, +walked forward, stood, faced one General after the other and saluted +each with the most military exactness. They were both plainly delighted; +while the house, in the mood to be moved by little touches, broke into +the heartiest applause.</p> + +<p>I had a moment of triumph also when we sang the <i>Rataplan, rataplan</i>. +Since the early hit I had made with my drum I always played it as the +Daughter of the Regiment, and when we came to this scene I directed the +drum first toward one box and then toward the other, as I gave the +rolling salute. The audience went mad again; and again the orchestra had +to stop until the clapping and the hurrahs had subsided. It may not have +been a great operatic performance but it was a great evening! Such +moments written about afterwards in cold words lose their thrill. They +bring up no pictures except to those who have lived them. But on a night +such as that, one's heart seems like a musical instrument, wonderfully +played upon.</p> + +<p>Between the acts the two distinguished officers came behind the scenes +and were introduced to the artists, making pleasant speeches to us all. +Immediately, I liked best the personality of General Grant. There was +nothing the least spectacular or egotistical about him; he was +absolutely simple and quiet and<a name="page_116" id="page_116"></a> unaffected. He bewildered me by +apologising courteously for not being able to shake hands with me.</p> + +<p>"You have had an accident to your hand!" I exclaimed.</p> + +<p>"Not exactly an accident," he said, smiling. "I think I may call it +design!"</p> + +<p>He explained that he had shaken hands with so many people that he could +not use his right hand for a while. He held it out for me to see and, +sure enough, it was terribly swollen and inflamed and must have been +very painful.</p> + +<p>The great evening came to an end at last. We were not sorry on the whole +for, thrilling as it had been, it had been also very tiring. I wonder if +such mad, national excitement could come to people to-day? I cannot +quite imagine an opera performance being conducted on similar lines in +the Metropolitan Opera House. Perhaps, however, it is not because we are +less enthusiastic but because our events are less dramatic.</p> + +<p>In recalling General Sherman I find myself thinking of him chiefly in +the later years of my acquaintance with him. After that Chicago night, +he never failed to look me up when I sang in any city where he was and +we grew to be good friends. He was always quite enthusiastic about +operatic music; much more so than General Grant. He confided to me once +that above all songs he especially disliked <i>Marching through Georgia</i>, +and that, naturally, was the song he was constantly obliged to listen +to. People, of course, thought it must be, or ought to be, his favourite +melody. But he hated the tune as well as the words. He was desperately +tired of the song and, above all, he detested what it stood for, and +what it forced him to recall.<a name="page_117" id="page_117"></a></p> + +<p class="figcenter"> +<a href="images/general_sherman_lg.jpg"> +<img src="images/general_sherman_sml.jpg" width="379" height="550" alt="General William Tecumseh Sherman, 1877 + +From a photograph by Mora" title="" /></a> +<br /> +<span class="caption"><b>General William Tecumseh Sherman, 1877</b><br /> + +From a photograph by Mora</span> +</p> + +<p>Like nearly all great soldiers, Sherman was naturally a gentle person +and saddened by war. Everything connected with fighting brought to him +chiefly the recollection of its horrors and tragedies and always filled +him with pain. So it was that his real heart's preference was for such +simple, old-fashioned, plantation-evoking, country-smelling airs as <i>The +Little Old Log Cabin in the Lane</i>. One day during his many visits to our +home he asked me to sing this and, when I informed him that I could not +because I did not know and did not have the words, he said he would send +them to me. This he did; and I took pains after that never to forget his +preference.</p> + +<p class="figcenter"> +<a href="images/ill_pg_117_lg.png"> +<img src="images/ill_pg_117_sml.png" width="550" height="105" alt="Musical notation; In de lit-tle old log cab-in in de +lane." title="musical notation" /></a> +</p> + +<p>One night when I was singing in a concert in Washington, I caught sight +of him sitting quietly in the audience. He did not even know that I had +seen him. Presently the audience wanted an encore and, as was my custom +in concerts, I went to the piano to play my own accompaniment. I turned +and, meeting the General's eyes, smiled at him. Then I sang his beloved +<i>Little Old Log Cabin</i>. My reward was his beaming expression of +appreciation. He was easily touched by such little personal tributes.</p> + +<p>"Why on earth did you sing that queer old song, Louise," someone asked +me when I was back behind the scenes again.</p> + +<p>"It was an official request," I replied mysteriously. The end of the war +was a strenuous time for the<a name="page_118" id="page_118"></a> nation; and for actors and singers among +others. The combination of work and excitement sent me up to New +Hartford in sore need of my summer's rest. But I think, of all the many +diverse impressions which that spring made upon my memory, the one that +I still carry with me most unforgetably, is a <i>sound</i>:—the sound of +those shuffling feet, shuffle, shuffle, shuffle,—in the Court House +grounds in Chicago: a sound like a great sea or forest in a wind as the +people of the nation went in to look at their President whom they loved +and who was dead.<a name="page_119" id="page_119"></a></p> + +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XII" id="CHAPTER_XII"></a>CHAPTER XII<br /><br /> +AND SO—TO ENGLAND!</h2> + +<p class="nind"><span class="letra">T</span>HE following season was one of concerts and not remarkably enjoyable. +In retrospect I see but a hurried jumble of work until our decision, in +the spring, to go to England.</p> + +<p>For two or three years I had wanted to try my wings on the other side of +the world. Several matters had interfered and made it temporarily +impossible, chiefly an unfortunate business agreement into which I had +entered at the very outset of my professional career. During the second +season that I sang, an <i>impresario</i>, a Jew named Ulman, had made me an +offer to go abroad and sing in Paris and elsewhere. Being very eager to +forge ahead, it seemed like a satisfactory arrangement, and I signed a +contract binding myself to sing under Ulman's management <i>if I went +abroad</i> any time in three years. When I came to think it over, I +regretted this arrangement exceedingly. I felt that the <i>impresario</i> was +not the best one for me. To say the least, I came to doubt his ability. +At any rate, because of this complication, I voluntarily tied myself up +to Max Maretzek for several years and felt it a release as now I could +not tour under Ulman even if I cared to. By 1867, however, my Ulman +contract had expired and I was free to do as I pleased. I had no +contract abroad to be sure, nor any very definite prospects, but I +determined<a name="page_120" id="page_120"></a> to go to England on a chance and see what developed. At any +rate I should have the advantage of being able to consult foreign +teachers and to improve my method. The uncertainties of my professional +outlook did not disturb me in the least. Indeed, what I really wanted +was, like any other girl, to go abroad, as the gentleman in the +old-fashioned ballad says:</p> + +<table border="0" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" summary="poetry"> +<tr><td align="left"><span style="margin-left: 0em;">... to go abroad;</span></td></tr> +<tr><td align="left"><span style="margin-left: 0em;">To go strange countries for to see!</span></td></tr> +</table> + +<p>I greatly enjoyed the voyage as I have enjoyed every voyage that I have +made since, even including the channel crossing when everyone else on +board was seasick, and also the one in which I was nearly ship-wrecked +off the Irish coast. I have crossed the Atlantic between sixty and +seventy times and every trip has given me pleasure of one kind or +another. I am never nervous when travelling. Like poor Jack, I have a +vague but sure conviction that nothing will happen to <i>me</i>; that I am +protected by "a sweet little cherub that sits up aloft!"</p> + +<p>At Queenstown, where we touched before going on to our regular port of +Liverpool, a man came on board asking for Miss Clara Louise Kellogg. He +was from Jarrett, the agent for Colonel Mapleson who was then +<i>impresario</i> of "Her Majesty's Opera" in London, and he brought me word +that Mapleson wanted me to call on him as soon as I reached London and, +until we could definitely arrange matters, to please give him the +refusal of myself, if I may so express it. Perhaps I wasn't a proud and +happy girl! Mapleson, I heard later, was then believed to be on the +verge of failure and it was hoped that my appearance in his company +would revive his fortunes. I grew afterwards cordially to<a name="page_121" id="page_121"></a> detest and to +distrust him, and we had more troubles than I can or care to keep track +of: and, as for Jarrett, he was a most unpleasant creature with a +positive genius for making trouble. But on that day in Queenstown +harbour, with the sun shining and the little Irish fisher boats—their +patched sails streaming into the blue off-shore distance,—the man +Jarrett had sent to meet me on behalf of Colonel Mapleson seemed like a +herald of great good cheer.</p> + +<p>When we reached London we went to Miss Edward's Hotel in Hanover Square. +It was a curious institution, distinctive of its day and generation, a +real old-fashioned English hotel, behind streets that were "chained-up" +after nightfall. It was called a "private hotel" and unquestionably was +one; deadly dull, but maintained in the most aristocratic way +imaginable, like a formal, pluperfect, private house where one might +chance to be invited to visit. Everyone dined in his own sitting-room, +which was usually separated from the bedroom, and never a soul but the +servants was seen. The Langham was the first London hotel to introduce +the American style of hotel and it, with its successors, have had such +an influence upon the other hostelries of London as gradually to +undermine the quaint, old, truly English places we used to know, until +there are no more "private hotels" like Miss Edward's in existence.</p> + +<p>We had friends in London and quickly made others. Commodore McVickar, of +the New York Yacht Club, had given me a letter to a friend of his, the +Dowager Duchess of Somerset. Her cards, by the way, were engraved in +just the opposite fashion—"Duchess Dowager." McVickar told me that, if +she liked, she could make things very pleasant for me in London.<a name="page_122" id="page_122"></a> It +appeared that she was something of a lion hunter and was always on the +lookout for celebrities either arriving or arrived. She went in for +everything foreign to her own immediate circle—art, intellect, and +Americans—chiefly Americans, in fact, because they were more or less of +a novelty, and she had the thirst for change in her so strongly +developed that she ought to have lived at the present time. Every night +of her life she gave dinners to hosts of friends and acquaintances. +Indeed, it is a fact that her sole interest in life consisted of giving +dinner parties and making collections of lions, great and small. I have +been told that after dinner she sometimes danced the Spanish fandango +toward the end of the evening. I never happened to see her do it, but I +quite believe her to have been capable of that or of anything else +vivacious and eccentric, although she was seventy or eighty in the shade +and not entirely built for dancing.</p> + +<p>I was somewhat impressed by the prospect of meeting a real live Duchess, +and had to be coached before-hand. In the early part of the eighteenth +century the mode of address "Your Grace" was used exclusively, and very +pretty and courtly it must have sounded. Nowadays it is only servants or +inferiors who think of using it. Plain "Duke" or "Duchess" is the later +form. At the period of which I am writing the custom was just betwixt +and between, in transition, and I was duly instructed to say "Your +Grace," but cautioned to say it <i>very</i> seldom!</p> + +<p class="figcenter"> +<a href="images/henry_stebbins_lg.jpg"> +<img src="images/henry_stebbins_sml.jpg" width="397" height="550" alt="Henry G. Stebbins + +From a photograph by Grillet & Co." title="" /></a> +<br /> +<span class="caption"><b>Henry G. Stebbins</b><br /> + +From a photograph by Grillet & Co.</span> +</p> + +<p>On the nineteenth of November, Colonel Stebbins and I went to call. +Maria, Dowager Duchess of Somerset lived in Park Lane in a house of +indifferent aspect. Its distinctive feature was the formidable number of +flunkeys ranged on the steps and standing<a name="page_123" id="page_123"></a> in front, all in powdered +wigs and white silk stockings and wearing waistcoats of a shade carrying +out the dominant colour of the ducal coat of arms. It was raining hard +when we got there, but not one of these gorgeous functionaries would +demean himself sufficiently to carry an umbrella down to our carriage. +In the drawing-room we had to wait a long time before a sort of +gilt-edged Groom of the Chambers came to the door and announced,</p> + +<p>"Her Grace, the Duchess!"</p> + +<p>My youthful American soul was prepared for someone quite dazzling, a +magnificent presence. What is the use of diadems and coronets if the +owner does not wear them? Of course I knew, theoretically, that +duchesses did not wear their coronets in the middle of the day, but I +did nevertheless hope for something brilliant or impressive.</p> + +<p>Then in walked Maria, Dowager Duchess of Somerset. I cannot adequately +describe her. She was a little, dumpy, old woman with no corsets, and +dressed in a black alpaca gown and prunella shoes—those awful things +that the present generation are lucky enough never to have even seen. +She furthermore wore a <i>fichu</i> of a style which had been entirely +extinct for fifty years at least. I really do not know how there +happened to be anyone living even then who could or would make such +things for her. No modern modiste could have achieved them and survived. +Her whole appearance was certainly beyond words. But she had very +beautiful hands, and when she spoke, the great lady was heard instantly. +It was all there, of course, only curiously costumed, not to say +disguised.</p> + +<p>After Colonel Stebbins had presented me and she had greeted me kindly, +he said:<a name="page_124" id="page_124"></a></p> + +<p>"I am sure Miss Kellogg will be glad to sing for you."</p> + +<p>"O," said Her Grace, carelessly, "I haven't a piano. I don't play or +sing and so I don't need one. But I'll get one in."</p> + +<p>I was amazed at the idea of a Duchess not owning a piano and having to +hire one when, in America, most middle-class homes possess one at +whatever sacrifice, and every little girl is expected to take music +lessons whether she has any ability or not. Even yet I do not quite +understand how she managed without a piano for her musical lions to play +on.</p> + +<p>She did get one in without delay and I was speedily invited to come and +sing. I thought I would pay a particular compliment to my English +hostess on that occasion by choosing a song the words of which were +written by England's Poet Laureate, so I provided myself with the lovely +setting of <i>Tears, Idle Tears</i>; music written by an American, W. H. Cook +by name, who besides being a composer of music possessed a charming +tenor voice. In my innocence I thought this choice would make a hit. +Imagine my surprise therefore when my hostess's comment on the text was:</p> + +<p>"Very pretty words. Who wrote them?"</p> + +<p>"Why," I stammered, "Tennyson."</p> + +<p>"Indeed? And, my dear Miss Kellogg, who <i>was</i> Tennyson?"</p> + +<p>Almost immediately after Colonel Stebbins bought her a handsome set of +the Poet Laureate's works with which she expressed herself as hugely +pleased, although I am personally doubtful if she ever opened a single +volume.</p> + +<p>She did not forget the <i>Tears, Idle Tears</i> episode, however, and had the +wit and good humour often to refer to it afterwards and, usually, quite +aptly. One<a name="page_125" id="page_125"></a> of her most charming notes to me touches on it gracefully. +She was a great letter-writer and her epistles, couched in flowery terms +and embellished with huge capitals of the olden style, are treasures in +their way:</p> + +<p>" ...I know all I feel; and the Tears (<i>not idle Tears</i>) that overflow +when I read about that Charming and Illustrious 'glorious Queen' ... who +is winning all hearts and delighting everyone...."</p> + +<p>Another letter, one which I think is a particularly interesting specimen +of the Victorian style of letter-writing, runs:</p> + +<div class="blockquot"><p>...I read with great delight the "critique" of you in <i>The London +Review</i>, which your Mamma was good enough to send me. The Writer is +evidently a man of highly Cultivated Mind, capable of appreciating +Excellency and Genius, and like the experienced Lapidary knows a +pearl and a Diamond when he has the good fortune to fall in the way +of one of high, pure first Water, and great brilliancy. Even <i>you</i> +must now feel you have captivated the "elite" of the British +Public, and taken root in the country, deep, deep, deep....</p></div> + +<p>My mother and I used often to go to see the Duchess and, through her met +many pleasant English people; the Duke and Duchess of Newcastle, Lady +Susan Vane-Tempest who was Newcastle's sister, Lord Dudley, Lord +Stanley, Lord Derby, Viscountess Combermere, Prince de la Tour +D'Auvergne, the French Ambassador,—I cannot begin to remember them +all—and I came really to like the quaint little old Duchess, who was +always most charming to me. One small incident struck me as +pathetic,—at least, it was half pathetic and half amusing. One day she +told me with impressive pride that she was going to show me one<a name="page_126" id="page_126"></a> of her +dearest possessions, "a wonderful table made from a great American +treasure presented to her by her dear friend, Commodore McVickar." She +led me over to it and tenderly withdrew the cover, revealing to my +amazement a piece of rough, cheap, Indian beadwork, such as all who +crossed from Niagara to Canada in those days were familiar with. It was +about as much like the genuine and beautiful beadwork of the older +tribes as the tawdry American imitations are like true Japanese textures +and curios. This poor specimen the Duchess had had made into a table-top +and covered it with glass mounted in a gilt frame, and had given it a +place of honour in her reception room. I suppose Mr. McVickar had sent +it to her to give her a rough general idea of what Indian work looked +like. I cannot believe that he intended to play a joke on her. She was +certainly very proud of it and, so far as I know, nobody ever had the +heart to disillusion her.</p> + +<p>More than once I encountered in England this incongruous and +inappropriate valuation of American things. I do not put it down to a +general admiration for us but, on the contrary, to the fact that the +English were so utterly and incredibly ignorant with regard to us. The +beadwork of the Duchess reminds me of another somewhat similar incident.</p> + +<p>At that time there were only two really rich bachelors in New York +society, Wright Sandford and William Douglass. Willie Douglass was of +Scotch descent and sang very pleasingly. Women went wild over him. He +had a yacht that won everything in sight. While we were in London, he +and his yacht put in an appearance at Cowes and he asked us down to pay +him a visit. It was a delightful experience. The Earl of Harrington's +country seat was not far away and the Earl with<a name="page_127" id="page_127"></a> his daughters came on +board to ask the yacht's party to luncheon the day following. Of course +we all went and, equally of course, we had a wonderful time. Lunch was a +deliciously informal affair. At one stage of the proceedings, somebody +wanted more soda water, when young Lord Petersham, Harrington's eldest +son, jumped up to fetch it himself. He rushed across the room and flung +open, with an air of triumph, the door of a common, wooden ice-box,—the +sort kept in the pantry or outside the kitchen door by Americans.</p> + +<p>"Look!" he cried, "did you ever see anything so splendid? It's our +American refrigerator and the joy of our lives! I suppose you've seen +one before, Miss Kellogg?"</p> + +<p>I explained rather feebly that I had, although not in a dining-room. But +the family assured me that a dining-room was the proper place for it. I +have seldom seen anything so heart-rendingly incongruous as that plain +ugly article of furniture in that dining-room all carved woodwork, +family silver, and armorial bearings!</p> + +<p>They were dear people and my heart went out to them more completely than +to any of my London friends. I soon discovered why.</p> + +<p>"You are the most cordial English people I've met yet," I said to Lady +Philippa Stanhope, the Earl's charming daughter. Her eyes twinkled.</p> + +<p>"Oh, we're not English," she explained, "we're Irish!"</p> + +<p>Yet even if I did not find the Londoners quite so congenial, I did like +them. I could not have helped it, they were so courteous to my mother +and me. Probably they supposed us to have Indians in our back-yards at +home; nevertheless they were always courteous, at<a name="page_128" id="page_128"></a> times cordial. One of +the most charming of the Englishwomen I met was the Viscountess +Combermere. She was one of the Queen's ladies-in-waiting, a very +vivacious woman, and used to keep dinner tables in gales of laughter. +Just then when anyone in London wanted to introduce or excuse an +innovation, he or she would exclaim, "the Queen does it!" and there +would be nothing more for anyone to say. This became a sort of +catch-word. I recall one afternoon at the Dowager Duchess of Somerset's, +a cup of hot tea was handed to the Viscountess who, pouring the liquid +from the cup into the saucer and then sipping it from the saucer, said:</p> + +<p>"Now ladies, do not think this is rude, for I have just come from the +Queen and saw her do the same. Let us emulate the Queen!" Then, seeing +us hesitate, "the Queen does it, ladies! the Queen does it!"</p> + +<p>Whereupon everyone present drank tea from their saucers.</p> + +<p>It was the Viscountess, also, who so greatly amused my mother at a +luncheon party by saying to her with the most polite interest:</p> + +<p>"You speak English remarkably well, Mrs. Kellogg! Do they speak English +in America?"</p> + +<p>"Yes, a little," replied mother, quietly.<a name="page_129" id="page_129"></a></p> + +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XIII" id="CHAPTER_XIII"></a>CHAPTER XIII<br /><br /> +AT HER MAJESTY'S</h2> + +<p class="nind"><span class="letra">A</span>DELINA Patti came to see us at once. I had known her in America when +she was singing with her sister and when, if the truth must be told, +many people found Carlotta the more satisfactory singer of the two. I +was glad to see her again even though we were <i>prime donne</i> of rival +opera organisations. Adelina headed the list of artists at Covent Garden +under Mr. Gye, among whom were some of the biggest names in Europe. +Indeed, I found myself confronted with the competition of several +favourites of the English people. At my own theatre, Her Majesty's, was +Mme. Titjiens, always much beloved in England and still a fine artist. +Christine Nilsson was also a member of the company; had sung there +earlier in that year and was to sing there again later in the season.</p> + +<p>A <i>tour de force</i> of Adelina's was my old friend <i>Linda di Chamounix</i>. +She was supposed to be very brilliant in the part, especially in the +<i>Cavatina</i> of the first act. As for Marguerite it was considered her +private and particular property at Covent Garden, and Nilsson's private +and particular property at Her Majesty's.</p> + +<p>I have been often asked my opinion of Patti's voice. She had a beautiful +voice that, in her early days, was very high, and she is, on the whole, +quite the most<a name="page_130" id="page_130"></a> remarkable singer that I ever heard. But her voice has +not been a high one for many years. It has changed, changed in pitch and +register. It is no longer a soprano; it is a mezzo and must be judged by +quite different standards. I heard her when she sang over here in +America thirteen years ago. She gave her old <i>Cavatina</i> from <i>Linda</i> and +sang the whole of it a tone and a half lower than formerly. While the +public did not know what the trouble was, they could not help perceiving +the lack of brilliancy. Ah, those who have heard her in only the last +fifteen years or so know nothing at all about Patti's voice! Yet it was +always a light voice, although I doubt if the world realised the fact. +She was always desperately afraid of overstraining it, and so was +Maurice Strakosch for her. She never could sing more than three times in +a week and, of those three, one <i>rôle</i> at least had to be very light. A +great deal is heard about the wonderful preservation of Patti's voice. +It <i>was</i> wonderfully preserved thirteen years ago. How could it have +been otherwise, considering the care she has always taken of herself? +Such a life! Everything divided off carefully according to <i>régime</i>:—so +much to eat, so far to walk, so long to sleep, just such and such things +to do and no others! And, above all, she has allowed herself few +emotions. Every singer knows that emotions are what exhaust and injure +the voice. She never acted; and she never, never felt. As Violetta she +did express some slight emotion, to be sure. Her <i>Gran Dio</i> in the last +act was sung with something like passion, at least with more passion +than she ever sang anything else. Yes: in <i>La Traviata</i>, after she had +run away with Nicolini, she did succeed in putting an unusual amount of +warmth into the <i>rôle</i> of Violetta.<a name="page_131" id="page_131"></a></p> + +<p class="figcenter"> +<a href="images/adelina_patti_lg.jpg"> +<img src="images/adelina_patti_sml.jpg" width="333" height="550" alt="Adelina Patti + +From a photograph by Fredericks" title="" /></a> +<br /> +<span class="caption"><b>Adelina Patti</b><br /> + +From a photograph by Fredericks</span> +</p> + +<p>But her great success was always due to her wonderful voice. Her acting +was essentially mechanical. As an intelligent actress, a creator of +parts, or even as an interesting personality, she could never approach +Christine Nilsson. Nilsson had both originality and magnetism, a +combination irresistibly captivating. Her singing was the embodiment of +dramatic expression.</p> + +<p>In September of that year we went down to Edinburgh to see the ruins of +Melrose Abbey. To confess the truth, I remember just two things clearly +about Scotland. One was that, at the ruins, Colonel Stebbins picked up a +piece of crumbling stone, spoke of the strange effect of age upon it, +and let it drop. Around turned the showman, or guide, or whatever the +person was called who crammed the sights down our throats.</p> + +<p>"You Americans are the curse of the country!" he exclaimed sharply.</p> + +<p>My other distinct memory—with associations of much discomfort and +annoyance—is that I left one rubber overshoe in Loch Lomond.</p> + +<p>So much for Scotland. We did not stay long; and were soon back in London +ready for work.</p> + +<p>Our rehearsals were rather fun. It seemed strange to be able to walk +across a stage without getting the hem of one's skirt dirty. English +theatres are incredibly clean when one considers what a dirty, sooty, +grimy town London is. Our opera was at the old Drury Lane, although we +always called it Her Majesty's because that was the name of the opera +company. I was amused to find that a member of the company, a big young +basso named "Signor Foli," turned out to be none other than Walter +Foley, a boy from my old home in the Hartford region. I always called +him "the Irish Italian from Connecticut."<a name="page_132" id="page_132"></a></p> + +<p>We opened on November 2d in <i>Faust</i>. There was rather a flurry of +indignation that a young American <i>prima donna</i> should dare to plunge +into Marguerite the very first thing. The fact that the young American +had sung it before other artists had, with the exception of Patti and +Titjiens, and that she was generally believed to know something about +it, mattered not at all. English people are acknowledged idolaters and +notoriously cold to newcomers. They cling to some imperishable memory of +a poor soul whose voice has been dead for years: and it was undoubtedly +an inversion of this same loyalty to their favourites that made them so +dislike the idea of Marguerite being selected for the new young woman's +<i>début</i>. But, really, though on a slightly different scale, it was not +so unlike the early days of <i>Linda</i>, over again when the Italians +accused me with so much animosity of taking the bread out of their +mouths. It can easily be believed that, with Nilsson holding all records +of Marguerite at Her Majesty's, and with Adelina waiting at Covent +Garden with murderous sweetness to see what I was going to do with her +favourite <i>rôle</i>, I was wretchedly nervous. When the first night came +around no one had a good word for me; everybody was indifferent; and I +honestly do not know what I should have done if it had not been for +Santley—dear, big-hearted Santley. He was our Valentine, that one, +great, incomparable Valentine for whom Gounod wrote the <i>Dio possente</i>. +I was walking rather shakily across the stage for my first entrance, +feeling utterly frightened and lonely, and looking, I dare say, nearly +as miserable as I felt, when a warm, strong hand was laid gently on my +shoulder.</p> + +<p>"Courage, little one, courage," said Santley, smiling<a name="page_133" id="page_133"></a> at me and patting +me as if I had been a very small, unhappy, frightened child.</p> + +<p>I smiled back at him and, suddenly, I felt strong and hopeful and brave +again. Onto the stage I went with a curiously sure feeling that I was +going to do well after all.</p> + +<p>I suppose I must have done well. There was a packed house and very soon +I felt it with me. I was called out many times, once in the middle of +the act after the church scene, an occurrence that was so far as I know +unprecedented. Colonel Keppel, the Prince of Wales's aide (I did not +dream then how well-known the name Keppel was destined to be in +connection with that of his royal master), came behind during the +<i>entr'acte</i> to congratulate me on behalf of the Prince. In later +performances his Highness did me the honour of coming himself. The +London newspapers—of which, frankly, I had stood in great dread—had +delightful things to say. This is the way in which one of them welcomed +me: " ...She has only one fault: if she were but English, she would be +simply perfect!" The editorial comments in <i>The Athenæum</i> of Chorley, +that gorgon of English criticism, included the following paragraph:</p> + +<div class="blockquot"><p>Miss Kellogg has a voice, indeed, that leaves little to wish for, +and proves by her use of it that her studies have been both +assiduous and in the right path. She is, in fact, though so young, +a thoroughly accomplished singer—in the school, at any rate, +toward which the music of M. Gounod consistently leans, and which +essentially differs from the florid school of Rossini and the +Italians before Verdi. One of the great charms of her singing is +her perfect enunciation of the words she has to utter. She never +sacrifices sense to sound; but fits the verbal text to<a name="page_134" id="page_134"></a> the music, +as if she attached equal importance to each. Of the Italian +language she seems to be a thorough mistress, and we may well +believe that she speaks it both fluently and correctly. These +manifest advantages, added to a graceful figure, a countenance full +of intelligence, and undoubted dramatic ability, make up a sum of +attractions to be envied, and easily explain the interest excited +by Miss Kellogg at the outset and maintained by her to the end.</p></div> + +<p>But, oh, how grateful I was to that good Santley for giving the little +boost to my courage at just the right moment! He was always a fine +friend, as well as a fine singer. I admired him from the bottom of my +heart, both as an artist and a man, and not only for what he was but +also for what he had grown from. He was only a ship-chandler's clerk in +the beginning. Indeed, he was in the office of a friend of mine in +Liverpool. From that he rose to the foremost rank of musical art. Yet +that friend of mine never took the least interest in Santley, nor was he +ever willing to recognise Santley's standing. Merely because he had once +held so inferior a position this man I knew—and he was not a bad sort +of man otherwise—was always intolerant and incredulous of Santley's +success and would never even go to hear him sing. It is true that +Santley never did entirely shake off the influences of his early +environment, a characteristic to be remarked in many men of his +nationality. In addition to this, some men are so sincere and +simple-hearted and earnest that they do not take kindly to artificial +environment and I think Santley was one of these. And he was a dear man, +and kind. His wife, a relative of Fanny Kemble, I never knew very well +as she was a good deal of an invalid.</p> + +<p class="figcenter"> +<a href="images/clara_as_linda_lg.jpg"> +<img src="images/clara_as_linda_sml.jpg" width="376" height="550" alt="Clara Louise Kellogg as Linda, 1868 + +From a photograph by Stereoscopic Co." title="" /></a> +<br /> +<span class="caption"><b>Clara Louise Kellogg as Linda, 1868</b><br /> + +From a photograph by Stereoscopic Co.</span> +</p> + +<p><a name="page_135" id="page_135"></a></p> + +<p>On the 9th we repeated <i>Faust</i> and on the 11th we gave <i>Traviata</i>. This +also, I feel sure, must have irritated Adelina. It is a curious little +fact that, while the opera of <i>Traviata</i> was not only allowed but also +greatly liked in London, the play <i>La Dame aux Camilias</i>—which as we +all know is practically the <i>Traviata libretto</i>—had been rigorously +banned by the English censor! <i>Traviata</i> brought me more curtain calls +than ever. The British public was really growing to like me!</p> + +<p><i>Martha</i> followed on the 15th. This was another <i>rôle</i> in which I had to +challenge comparison with Nilsson, who was fond of it, although I never +liked her classic style in the part. It was given in Italian; but I sang +<i>The Last Rose of Summer</i> in English, like a ballad, and the people +loved it. I wore a blue satin gown as Martha which, alas! I lost in the +theatre fire not long after.</p> + +<p>Then came <i>Linda di Chamounix</i>, the second <i>rôle</i> that I had ever sung. +I was glad to sing it again, and in England, and the newspapers spoke of +it as "a great and crowning success" for me. As soon as we had given +this opera, Gye, the <i>impresario</i> at Covent Garden, decided it was time +to show off Patti in that <i>rôle</i>. So he promptly—hastily, even—revived +Linda for her. I have always felt, however, that Linda was tacitly given +to me by the public. Arditi, our conductor at Her Majesty's, wrote a +waltz for me to sing at the close of the opera, <i>The Kellogg Waltz</i>, and +I wore a charming new costume in the part, a simple little yellow gown, +with a blue moiré silk apron and tiny pale pink roses. The combination +of pink and yellow was always a favourite one with me. I wore it in my +early appearance as Violetta and, later,<a name="page_136" id="page_136"></a> also in <i>Traviata</i>, I wore a +variant of the same colour scheme that was called by my friends in +London my "rainbow frock." It was composed of a <i>grosgrain</i> silk +petticoat of the hue known as apricot, trimmed with mauve and pale +turquoise shades; the overskirt was caught back at either side with a +turquoise bow and the train was of plain turquoise. I took a serious +interest in my costumes in those days—and, indeed, in all days! This +latter gown was one of Worth's creations and met with much admiration. +More than once have I received letters asking where it was made.</p> + +<p>The English public was most cordial and kindly toward me and unfailingly +appreciative of my work. But I believe from the bottom of my heart that, +inherently and permanently, the English are an unmusical people. They do +not like fire, nor passion, nor great moments in either life nor art. +Mozart's music, that runs peacefully and simply along, is precisely what +suits them best. They adore it. They likewise adore Rossini and Handel. +They think that the crashing emotional climaxes of the more advanced +composers are extravagant; and, both by instinct and principle, they +dislike the immoderate and the extreme in all things. They are in fact a +simple and primitive people, temperamentally, actually, and +artistically. I remember that the first year I was in London all the +women were singing:</p> + +<table border="0" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" summary="poetry"> +<tr><td align="left"><span style="margin-left: 0em;">My mother bids me bind my hair</span></td></tr> +<tr><td align="left"><span style="margin-left: 1em;">And lace my bodice blue!</span></td></tr> +</table> + +<p>It wandered along so sweetly and mildly, not to say insipidly, that of +course it was popular with Victorian England.<a name="page_137" id="page_137"></a></p> + +<p>Finally, came <i>Don Giovanni</i> on December 3d. I played Zerlina as I had +done in America. Later I came to prefer Donna Anna. But in London +Titjiens did Donna Anna. Santley was the Almaviva and Mme. Sinico was +the Donna Elvira. The following spring when we gave our "all star cast" +Nilsson was the Elvira. I had no Zerlina costume with me and the +decision to put on the opera was made in a hurry, so I got out my old +Rosina dress and wore it and it answered the purpose every bit as well +as if I had had a new one.</p> + +<p>The opera went splendidly, so splendidly that, two days later, on the +5th, we gave it again at a matinée, or, as it was the fashion to say +then, a "morning performance." The success was repeated. I caught a most +terrible cold, however, and returned in a bad temper to Miss Edward's +Hotel to nurse myself for a few days and get in condition for the next +performance. But there was destined to be no next performance at the old +Drury Lane.</p> + +<p>The following evening at about half-past ten, my mother, Colonel +Stebbins, and I were talking in our sitting-room with the window-shades +up. Suddenly I saw a red glow over the roofs of the houses and pointed +it out.</p> + +<p>"It's a fire!" I exclaimed.</p> + +<p>"And it's in the direction of the theatre!" said Colonel Stebbins.</p> + +<p>"Oh, I hope that Her Majesty's is in no danger!" cried my mother.</p> + +<p>We did not think at first that it could be the theatre itself, but +Colonel Stebbins sent his valet off in a hurry to make enquiries. While +he was gone a messenger arrived in great haste from the Duchess of +Somerset<a name="page_138" id="page_138"></a> asking for assurances of my safety. Then came other messages +from friends all over London and soon the man servant returned to +confirm the reports that were reaching us. Her Majesty's had caught fire +from the carpenter's shop underneath the stage and, before morning, had +burned to the ground.</p> + +<p>Arditi had been holding an orchestra rehearsal there at the time and the +last piece of music ever played in the old theatre was <i>The Kellogg +Waltz</i>.<a name="page_139" id="page_139"></a></p> + +<p class="figcenter"> +<a href="images/james_mchenry_lg.jpg"> +<img src="images/james_mchenry_sml.jpg" width="340" height="550" alt="Mr. McHenry + +From a photograph by Brady" title="" /></a> +<br /> +<span class="caption"><b>Mr. McHenry</b><br /> + +From a photograph by Brady</span> +</p> + +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XIV" id="CHAPTER_XIV"></a>CHAPTER XIV<br /><br /> +ACROSS THE CHANNEL</h2> + +<p class="nind"><span class="letra">T</span>ITJIENS had smelled smoke and she had been told that it was nothing but +shavings that were being burned. Luckily, nobody was hurt and, although +some of our costumes were lost, we artists did not suffer so very much +after all. But of course our season was summarily put an end to and we +all scattered for work and play until the spring season when Mapleson +would want us back.</p> + +<p>My mother and I went across to Paris without delay. I had wanted to see +"the Continent" since I was a child and I must say that, in my heart of +hearts, I almost welcomed the fire that set me free to go sightseeing +and adventuring after the slavery of dressing-rooms and rehearsals. +Crossing the Channel I was the heroine of the boat because, while I was +just a little seasick, I was not enough so to give in to it. I can +remember forcing myself to sit up and walk about and even talk with a +grim and savage feeling that I would die rather than admit myself beaten +by a silly and disgusting <i>malaise</i> like that; and after crossing the +ocean with impunity too. Everyone else on board was abjectly ill and I +expect it was partly pride that kept me well.</p> + +<p>In Paris we went first to the Louvre Hotel where we were nearly frozen +to death. As soon as we could, we<a name="page_140" id="page_140"></a> moved into rooms where we might thaw +out and become almost warm, although we never found the temperature +really comfortable the whole time we lived in French houses. We saw any +number of plays, visited cathedrals and picture galleries, and bought +clothes. In fact we did all the regulation things, for we were +determined to make the most of every minute of our holiday. Rather +oddly, one of the entertainments I remember most distinctly was a +production of <i>Gulliver's Travels</i> at the Théâtre Châtelet. It was the +dullest play in the world; but the scenery and effects were splendid.</p> + +<p>I was not particularly enthusiastic over the French theatres. Indeed, I +found them very limited and disappointing. I had gone to France +expecting every theatrical performance in Paris to be a revelation. +Probably I respect French art as much as any one; but I believe it is +looked up to a great deal more than is justified. Consider Mme. +Carvalho's wig for example, and, as for that, her costume as well. Yet +we all turned to the Parisians as authority for the theatre. The +pictures of the first distinguished Marguerite give a fine idea of the +French stage effects in the sixties. A few years ago I heard +<i>Tannhäuser</i> in Paris. The manner in which the pilgrims wandered in +convinced me in my opinion. The whole management was inefficient and +Wagner's injunctions were disregarded at every few bars. The French +Gallicise everything. They simply cannot get inside the mental point of +view of any other country. Though they are popularly considered to be so +facile and adaptable, they are in truth the most obstinate, one-idead, +single-sided race on earth barring none except, possibly, the Italians. +Gounod's <i>Faust</i> is a good example—a Ger<a name="page_141" id="page_141"></a> man story treated by +Frenchmen. Remarkably little that is Teutonic has been left in it. +Goethe has been eliminated so far as possible. The French were held by +the drama, but the poetry and the symbolism meant nothing at all to +them. Being German, they had no use for its poetry and its symbolism. +The French colour and alter foreign thought just as they colour and +alter foreign phraseology. They do it in a way more subtle than any +usual difficulties of translation from one tongue to another. The +process is more a form of transmuting than of translating—words, +thoughts, actions—into another element entirely. How idiotic it sounds +when Hamlet sings:</p> + +<p class="c"><i>Être—ou n'être pas!</i></p> + +<p>Perhaps this, however, is not entirely the fault of the French. +Shakespeare should never be set to music.</p> + +<p>There is also the question of traditions. I may seem to be contradicting +myself when I find fault with a certain French school for its blind and +bigoted adherence to traditions; but there should be moderation in all +things and a hidebound rigidity in stupid old forms is just as +inartistic as a free-and-easy elasticity in flighty new ones. It is +possible to put some old wine in new bottles, but it must be poured in +very gently. French artists learn most when once they get away from +France. Maurel is a good example. Look at the way he grew and developed +when he went to England and America and was allowed to work problems and +ideas out by himself.</p> + +<p>Once when in Paris I wanted to vary and freshen my costume of +Marguerite, give it a new yet consistent touch here and there. I was not +planning to renovate the <i>rôle</i>, only the girl's clothes. Having always +felt<a name="page_142" id="page_142"></a> that the Grand Opera was a Mecca to us artists from afar, I +hastened there and climbed up the huge stairway to pay my respects to +the Director. Monsieur had never heard of me. Frenchmen make a point +never to have heard of any one outside of France. The fact that I was +merely the first and the most famous Marguerite across the sea did not +count. He was, however, very polite. He brought out his wonderful +costume books that were full of new ideas to me and delighted me with +numberless fresh possibilities. I saw unexplored fields in the direction +of correct costuming and exclaimed over the designs, Monsieur watching +my enthusiasm with bored civility. There was one particularly enchanting +design for a silver chatelaine, heavy and mediæval in character. I could +see it with my mind's eye hanging from Marguerite's bodice. This I said +to M. le Directeur: but he shook his dignified head with a frown.</p> + +<p>"Too rich. Marguerite was too poor," he said with weary brevity.</p> + +<p>"Oh, no!" I explained volubly and eagerly, "she was of the well-to-do +class—the burghers—don't you remember? Marguerite and Valentine owned +their house and, though they were of course of peasant blood, this sort +of chatelaine seems to me just the thing that any German girl might +possess."</p> + +<p>"Too rich," Monsieur put in imperturbably.</p> + +<p>"But," I protested, "it might be an heirloom, you know, and——"</p> + +<p>"Too rich," he repeated politely; and he added in a calm, dreamy voice +as he shut up the book, "I think that Mademoiselle will make a mistake +<i>if she ever tries anything new</i>!"</p> + +<p>As for sightseeing in France, my mother and I did<a name="page_143" id="page_143"></a> any amount of it on +that first visit. Sometimes I was charmed but more often I was +disillusioned. There have been few "sights" in my life that have come up +to my "great expectations" or been half as wonderful as my dreams. This +is the penalty of a too vivid imagination; nothing can ever be as +perfect as one's fancy paints it. The view of Mont Blanc from the +terrace of Voltaire's house near the borderland of France and +Switzerland is one of the few in my experience that I have found more +lovely than I could have dreamed it to be. Of all the palaces that I +have been in—and they have numbered several—the only one that ever +seemed to me like a real palace was Fontainebleau. Small but exquisite, +it looked like a haven of rest and loveliness, as though its motto might +well be: "How to be happy though a crowned head!"</p> + +<p>Speaking of crowned heads reminds me that while we were in Paris Mr. +McHenry, our English friend from Holland Park, made an appointment for +me to be presented to the ex-Queen of Spain, the Bourbon princess, +Christina, so beloved by many Spaniards. I was delighted because I had +never been presented to royalty and a Spanish queen seemed a very +splendid sort of personage even if she did not happen to be ruling at +the moment. Christina had withdrawn from Spain and had married the Duke +de Rienzares. They lived in a beautiful palace on the Champs Élysées. +There are nothing but shops on the site now but it used to be very +imposing, especially the formal entrance which, if I remember correctly, +was off the Rue St. Honoré. Mrs. and Mr. McHenry went with me and, after +being admitted, we were shown up a marble staircase into what was called +the Cameo Room, a small, austere apartment filled with cameos of the +Bourbons. Queen<a name="page_144" id="page_144"></a> Christina liked to live in small and unpretentious +rooms; they seemed less suggestive of a palace.</p> + +<p>I found that "royalty at home" was about as simple as anything could +conceivably be; not quite as plain as the old Dowager Duchess of +Somerset to be sure but quite plain enough. The Queen and the Duke de +Rienzares entered without ceremony. The Queen wore a severe and simple +black gown that cleared the floor by an inch or two. It was a perfectly +practical and useful dress, admirably suited for housekeeping or tidying +up a room. Around the royal lady's shoulders hung a little red plaid +shawl such as no American would wear. She was Spanishly dark and her +black hair was pulled into a knot about the size of a silver dollar in +the middle of the back of her head. I have never seen her <i>en grande +toilette</i> and so do not know whether or not she ever looked any less +like a respectable housekeeper. She had a delightful manner and was most +gracious. She had, with all the Bourbon pride, also the Bourbon gift of +making herself pleasant and of putting people at their ease. Of course +she was immensely accomplished and spoke Italian as perfectly as she did +Spanish. The Duke seemed harmless and amiable. He had little to say, was +thoroughly subordinate, and seemed entirely acclimated to his position +in life as the ordinarily born husband of a Queen.</p> + +<p>Our visit was not much of an ordeal after all. It was really quite +instinctively that I courtesied and backed out of the room and observed +the other points of etiquette that are correct when one is introduced to +royalty. As it was a private presentation, it had not been thought +necessary to coach me, and as I backed myself out of the august +presence, keeping myself as<a name="page_145" id="page_145"></a> nearly as possible in a courtesying +attitude, I caught Mr. McHenry looking at me with amused approval.</p> + +<p>"Well," said he, when we were safe in the hall and I had straightened +up, "I should say that you had been accustomed to courts and crowned +heads all your life! You acted as if you had been brought up on it!"</p> + +<p>"Ah," I replied, "that comes from my opera training. We learn on the +stage how to treat kings and queens."</p> + +<p>Not more than a fortnight after this I had an offer for an engagement at +the Madrid Opera for $400.00 a night, very good for Spain in those days. +I suppose that it came indirectly through the influence of Queen +Christina. I wanted to go to Spain, but my mother would not let me +accept. We were almost pioneers of travel in the modern sense and had no +one to give us authoritative ideas of other countries. People alarmed us +about the climate, declaring it unhealthy; and about the public, which +they said was capricious and rude. The warning about the public +particularly frightened me. I should never object to my efforts being +received in silence in case of disapproval, but I felt that I could not +survive what I had been told was the Spanish custom of hissing. I was +also told that Spanish audiences were very mercurial and difficult to +win. So we refused the Madrid Opera offer, and I have never sung in +either Spain or Italy principally because of my dread of the hissing +habit.</p> + +<p>That same year I heard Christine Nilsson for the first time, in <i>Martha</i> +at the Théâtre Lyrique and, later, in <i>Hamlet</i> at the same theatre with +Faure. Shortly after both Nilsson and Faure were taken over by the Grand +Opera. Ophélie had been written for Nilsson and composed entirely around +her voice. She created<a name="page_146" id="page_146"></a> the part, singing it exquisitely, and Ambrose +Thomas paid her the compliment of taking his two principal soprano +melodies from old Swedish folk-songs. Nilsson could sing Swedish +melodies in a way to drive one crazy or break one's heart. I have been +quite carried away with them again and again. There was one delicious +song that she called <i>Le Bal</i> in which a young fellow asks a girl to +dance and she is very shy. It was slight, but ever so pretty, and it had +a minor melody that was typically northern. These were the good days +before her voice became impaired. In this connection I may mention that +it was Christine Nilsson who, having heard the Goodwin girls sing <i>Way +Down upon the Swanee River</i>, first introduced it on the stage as an +<i>encore</i>.</p> + +<p>While speaking of Nilsson, I want to record that I was present on the +night, much later, when she practically murdered the high register of +her voice. She had five upper notes the quality of which was unlike any +other I ever heard and that possessed a peculiar charm. The tragedy +happened during a performance of <i>The Magic Flute</i> in London and I was +in the Newcastles' box, which was near the stage. Nilsson was the Queen +of the Night, one of her most successful early <i>rôles</i>. The second aria +in <i>The Magic Flute</i> is more famous and less difficult than the first +aria and, also, more effective. Nilsson knew well the ineffectiveness of +the ending of the first <i>aria</i> in the two weakest notes of a soprano's +voice, A natural and B flat. I never could understand why a master like +Mozart should have chosen to use them as he did. There is no climax to +the song. One has to climb up hard and fast and then stop short in the +middle. It is an appalling thing to do: and that night Nilsson took +those two notes at the last in <i>chest tones</i>.<a name="page_147" id="page_147"></a></p> + +<p class="figcenter"> +<a href="images/christine_nilsson_lg.jpg"> +<img src="images/christine_nilsson_sml.jpg" width="332" height="550" alt="Christine Nilsson as Queen of the Night + +From a photograph by Pierre Petit" title="" /></a> +<br /> +<span class="caption"><b>Christine Nilsson as Queen of the Night</b><br /> + +From a photograph by Pierre Petit</span> +</p> + +<p>"Great heavens!" I gasped, "what is she doing? What is the woman +thinking of!"</p> + +<p>Of course I knew she was doing it to get volume and vibration and to +give that trying climax some character. But to say that it was a fatal +attempt is to put it mildly. She absolutely killed a certain quality in +her voice there and then and she <i>never recovered it</i>. Even that night +she had to cut out the second great <i>aria</i>. Her beautiful high notes +were gone for ever. Probably the fatality was the result of the last +stroke to a continued strain which she had put upon her voice. After +that she, like Mario, began to be dramatic to make up for what she had +lost. She, the classical and cold artist, became full of expression and +animation. But the later Nilsson was very different from the Nilsson +whom I first heard in Paris during the winter of 1868, when, besides +singing the music perfectly, she was, with her blond hair and broad +brow, a living Ophélie. As I have said, Faure, the baritone, was her +Hamlet in that early performance. He was a great artist, a great actor +in whatever <i>rôle</i> he took. His voice was not wonderful, but he was +saved, and more than saved, by his style and his art. He was a +particularly cultivated, musicianly man whose dignity of carriage and +elegance of manner could easily make people forget a certain ungrateful +quality in his voice. It was Faure who had the brains and perseverance +to learn how to sing a particular note from a really bad singer. The bad +singer had only one good note in his voice and that happened to be the +worst one in Faure's. So, night after night, the great artist went to +hear and to study the inferior one to try and learn how he got that +note. And he succeeded, too. This is a fair sample of his careful and +finished way of doing anything.<a name="page_148" id="page_148"></a> He was a big artist, and to big +artists, especially in singing, music is almost mathematical in its +exactness.</p> + +<p>Adelina Patti, who had also left London for the winter, was singing at +the <i>Italiens</i> in Paris. I went to hear her give an indifferent +performance of <i>Ernani</i>. It was never one of her advantageous <i>rôles</i>. +Adelina had a most extraordinary charm and a great power over men of +very diverse sorts. De Caux, Nicolini, Maurice Strakosch, who married +Adelina's sister Amelia, all adored her and felt that whatever she did +must be right because she did it. Nicolini, who had been a star tenor +singing all over Italy before she captured him, was willing to forget +that he ever had a wife or children. Maurice was for years her "manager +and representative," and as such put up with incredible complexities in +the situation. There is a long and lurid tale about Nicolini's wife +appearing in Italy when Nicolini, Maurice, and Adelina were all there. +The story ended with Nicolini being kicked downstairs and the press +commented upon the episode with an apt couplet from Schiller to the +effect that "life is hard, but merry is art!"</p> + +<p>The names of Paris and of Maurice Strakosch in conjunction conjure up +the thought of Napoleon III, who, in his young days of exile, used to be +very intimate with Maurice. Louis Napoleon, after he had escaped from +the fortress of Ham, spent some time in London, and he and Maurice +frequently lunched or dined together. By the way, some years later, at a +dinner at the McHenrys' in Holland Park, I was told by Chevalier Wyckoff +that it was he who rescued Napoleon from the prison of Ham by smuggling +clothes in to him and by having a boat waiting for him. Maurice used<a name="page_149" id="page_149"></a> to +tell of one rather amusing incident that occurred during the London +period. Louis Napoleon's dress clothes were usually in pawn, and one +night when he wanted to go to some party, he presented himself at +Maurice's rooms to borrow his. Maurice was out; but nevertheless Louis +Napoleon took the dress clothes anyway, adding all of Maurice's orders +and decorations. When he was decked out to his satisfaction he went to +the party. Shortly after, in came Maurice, to dress for the same party, +and called to his valet to bring him his evening clothes.</p> + +<p>"Mr. Bonaparte's got 'em on, sir," said the man: and Maurice stayed at +home!</p> + +<p>Napoleon III was a man of many weaknesses. Yet he kept his promises and +remembered his friends—when he could. As soon as he became Emperor he +sent for Maurice Strakosch and offered him the management of the +<i>Italiens</i>; but Maurice declined the honour. He was too busy +"representing" Patti in those days to care for any other engagement. He +did give singing lessons to the Empress Eugénie however, and was always +on good terms with her and with the Emperor.</p> + +<p>When I was in Paris in '68 Napoleon and Eugénie were in power at the +Tuileries and day after day I saw them driving behind their splendid +horses. Paris was extremely gay and yet somewhat ominous, for there was +a wide-spread feeling that clouds were gathering about the throne. When +thinking of that period I sometimes quote to myself Owen Meredith's +poem, <i>Aux Italiens</i>,</p> + +<table border="0" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" summary="poetry"> +<tr><td align="left"><span style="margin-left: 0em;">At Paris it was at the opera there ...</span></td></tr> +<tr><td align="left"><span style="margin-left: 4em;">. . . . . . . . . .</span><br /><a name="page_150" id="page_150"></a></td></tr> +<tr><td align="left"><span style="margin-left: 0em;">The Emperor there in his box of state</span></td></tr> +<tr><td align="left"><span style="margin-left: 1em;">Looked grave, as if he had just then seen</span></td></tr> +<tr><td align="left"><span style="margin-left: 0em;">The red flag wave from the city gate,</span></td></tr> +<tr><td align="left"><span style="margin-left: 1em;">Where his eagles in bronze had been.</span></td></tr> +</table> + +<p>The Tuileries court was a very brilliant one and we were accustomed to +splendid costumes and gorgeous turnouts in the Bois, but one day I came +home with a particularly excited description of the "foreign princess" I +had seen. Her clothes, her horses (she drove postilion), her carriage, +her liveries, her servants, all, to my innocent and still ignorant mind, +proclaimed her some distinguished visiting royalty. How chagrined I was +and how I was laughed at when my "princess" turned out to be one of the +best known <i>demi-mondaines</i> in Paris! Even then it was difficult to tell +the two <i>mondes</i> apart.</p> + +<p>A unique character in Paris was Dr. Evans, dentist to the Emperor and +Empress. He was an American and a witty, talented man. I remember +hearing him laughingly boast:</p> + +<p>"I have looked down the mouth of every crowned head of Europe!"</p> + +<p>When disaster overtook the Bonapartes, he proved that he could serve +crowned heads in other ways besides filling their teeth. It was he who +helped the Empress to escape, and the fact made him an exile from Paris. +He came to see me in London years afterwards and told me something of +that dark and dramatic time of flight. He felt very homesick for Paris, +which had been his home for so long, but the dear man was as merry and +charming as ever.</p> + +<p>We spent in all only a short time in Paris. Two months were taken out of +the middle of that winter<a name="page_151" id="page_151"></a> for travelling on the Continent, after which +we returned to the French city for March. When we first started from +Paris on our trip we were headed for Nice. It was Christmas Day, and +cold as charity. Why <i>did</i> we choose that day of all others on which to +begin a journey? Our Christmas dinner consisted of cold soup swallowed +at a station. Christmas!—I could have wept!<a name="page_152" id="page_152"></a></p> + +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XV" id="CHAPTER_XV"></a>CHAPTER XV<br /><br /> +MY FIRST HOLIDAY ON THE CONTINENT</h2> + +<p class="nind"><span class="letra">I</span>T seemed very odd to be really idle. From the time I was thirteen I had +been working and studying so systematically that to get the habit of +leisure was like learning a new and a difficult lesson. It took time, +for one thing, to find out how to relax; nervous persons never acquire +this art naturally nor possess it instinctively. It is with them the +artificial product of painful experience. All my life I had been +expending energy at top pressure and building it up again as fast as I +could instead of sometimes letting it lie fallow for a bit. When I +became exhausted my mother would speedily make strong broths with rice +and meat and vegetables and anything else that she considered nourishing +to stimulate my jaded vitality; then I would go at my work again harder +than ever. When I had finished one thing I plunged, nerves, body, and +brain, into another. To be an artist is bad enough; but to be an +American artist—! To the temperamental excitability and intensity is +added the racial nervousness; and lucky are such if they do not go up in +a final smoke of over-energised effort. When I was singing I was always +in a fever before the curtain rose. All the day before I was restless to +the point of desperation. Instead of letting myself go and becoming +comfortably limp so that I might conserve my<a name="page_153" id="page_153"></a> strength for the +performance itself, I would cast about for a hundred secondary ways in +which to waste my nervous force. I was nearly as bad as the Viennese +<i>prima donna</i>, Marie Willt. The story is told of her that a reporter +from a Vienna newspaper went to interview her the afternoon before she +was to sing in <i>Il Trovatore</i> at the Royal Opera and enquired of the +scrubwoman in the hall where he could find Frau Willt.</p> + +<p>"Here," responded the scrubwoman, sitting up to eye him calmly.</p> + +<p>When the young man expressed surprise and incredulity she explained, as +she continued to mop the soapy water, that she invariably scrubbed the +floor the day she was going to sing. "It keeps me busy," she concluded +sententiously.</p> + +<p>Think of the force that went into that scrubbing-brush which might have +gone into the part of Leonora! But it is not for me to find fault with +such a course of action because I followed a very similar one. If I did +not exactly scrub floors, I did, somehow, contrive to find other equally +adequate ways of dissipating my strength before I sang. Yet here I was, +actually taking a holiday, with no chance at all to work even if I +wanted to!</p> + +<p>When we arrived in Nice the lemons and oranges on the trees and a sky as +blue as painted china made the place seem to me somewhat unnatural, like +a stage setting. Not yet having learned my lesson of relaxation, I soon +became restless and wanted to be again on the move. Nevertheless we +stayed there for nearly a month. My mother seemed to like it. She made +many friends and spent hours every day painting little pictures—quite +dear little pictures they were—of the<a name="page_154" id="page_154"></a> bright coloured wild flowers +that grew roundabout. But possibly a few extracts from the diary kept by +my mother of this visit will not be out of place here. The capital +letters and italics are hers.</p> + +<div class="blockquot"><p><i>Dec. 25</i>—Christmas morning. Sun shone for two hours. Left for +Nice. Arrived at 5 <span class="smcap">P.M.</span> A very cold night. Cars warmed by zink +hollow planks [boxes] filled with Boiling water which are replaced +every three hours at the different stations. Notwithstanding shawls +and wraps suffered with the cold. Nothing to eat until we arrived +at twelve at Marseilles, where [we] got a poor, cold soup and +miserable cup of tea. Arrived at the Hotel Luxembourg in Nice at +6.30 <span class="smcap">P.M.</span> The city and hotels crowded with people from all parts of +the world. Rheumatic people rush here to get into the <i>sunshine</i>—a +<i>thing</i> seldom seen in Paris or London in winter. Nice is simply a +watering-place <i>without the water</i>, unless one means the Sea +Mediterranean which almost rushes into the Halls of the Hotels. All +languages are here spoken; therefore no trouble for any nation to +obtain what it desires. The streets are pulverised magnesia. +Everybody looks after walking as though they had been to mill +"turning hopper."</p> + +<p>In our promenade [to-day, Dec. 27] we meet in less than twenty +minutes as many different nationalities, or representatives of +each. Poor in soil, poor in colour, poor in taste is Nice. The +Hotels compose the City. Roses bloom by the roadsides in abundance. +The gardens of the Hotels are yellow with Oranges. Palm trees line +the streets, none of which have shade trees that ever grow enough +to shade but <i>one person at a time</i>—no soil—no vigour—sun does +all the maturing. Things ripen from necessity, not from the soil.</p> + +<p><i>Saturday 28</i>—Clear beautiful morning. Beach covered with +promenaders. At twelve Louise and I took a long walk towards Villa +Franca—sun very hot—met Richard Palmer who had just arrived. +Enjoyed the morning;<a name="page_155" id="page_155"></a> were refreshed by our walk. Mr. Stebbins and +Charlie called. Drive at 5. Evening had a light wood fire upon the +hearth, making rooms and hearts cheerful in direct opposition to +the roaring of the wild sea at our very feet. Proprietor of Hotel +sent up his Piano for Louise. Basket Phaetons—2 ponies—are hired +here for one franc an hour—fine woods but dusty.</p> + +<p><i>29th.—Sunday</i>—Magnificent morning. The sea smooth as glass. +Women line the beach spreading clothes to bleach. There is a short +diluted Season of Italian Opera here. <i>Ernani</i> was announced for +last evening. There is no odor from the Mediterranean, no sea +weeds, no shells, a perfectly clean barren beach. I don't believe +it is even salt. Shall go and sip to satisfy Yankee curiosity. +There are two Irish heiresses here whose combined weight in gold is +9000 lbs., and the way the nobs and snobs tiptoe, bow, and scrape +is something to behold. They are always dressed alike. We are cold +enough to have a small wood fire morning and evening in a very +primitive style fireplace 18 inches square. Handirons made of 2 +cast iron virgins' heads and busts. Bellows thrown in.</p> + +<p><i>One</i> <span class="smcap">P.M.</span>—Took a double Pony Basket Phaeton, Louise and I on the +front seat, she driving a grey and bay pony. Drove to Villa Franca +where the American fleet is anchored. Saw the old flag once more, +which brought home most vividly to my heart and roused the old +longing for the dear old spot.</p> + +<p><i>30th.</i> No letters. No news of trunks. The Monotonous sea singing +Hush at measured intervals, not one wave even an inch higher than +another. This cannot be a real sea, the Mediterranean, <i>or it would +sometime change its tone</i>. Yesterday rode through the old Italian +part of the City. Houses 6 or 7 stories high. Streets just wide +enough for a donkey cart to get through. Never can pass each other. +One has to back out.</p> + +<p><i>Tuesday 31.</i> Took our usual walk. Listened to the band in the +Public Gardens. This is a poor, barren country.<a name="page_156" id="page_156"></a> I believe the +plates are <i>licked by the inhabitants instead of the dogs</i>. This +place is too poor for <i>them</i>. The only good conditioned looking +people here are the priests. They are bursting with inward +satisfaction and joy. When in Paris last October we heard of a most +wonderful pair of earrings that had been presented to Adelina Patti +by a Gent who glided under the name of Khalil Bey, worth Millions! +When in Paris again in December there was a great stir about the +Private Picture Gallery of a very wealthy man who had met with +severe and great losses at the gaming table. Our friends tried to +obtain admission for us to see them, but through some slip we +failed. Upon our arrival in Nice, one day there was great confusion +and agitation among the Eager. Servants were standing in corners +and evidence of something was very vivid. Finally the mystery was +solved. And we learned that a great Prince had arrived from St. +Petersburg. A Turk! Who was sharing our fate (the order of things +is all reversed in Nice. You commence life there by beginning at +the top and working your way down) and taken rooms on the 6th +floor, accompanied by 2 servants, one especially to take care of +the Pipe. His name is Khalil Bey—about 50 years old—a hard, +Chinese, cast-iron face run when the iron was very hot—sinking +well into the mould—one eye almost blind—short small feet—he +seemed to commence to grow at the feet and grew bigger and wider as +he went up.</p> + +<p><i>3rd.</i> He moves in the best "society" over here—has his Box at the +Opera—tells frankly his losses at cards—so many million +francs—is a man of influence even among a certain class and that +far above mediocre. Met him at an evening entertainment. Found him +a great admirer of Patti in certain <i>rôles</i>—very good judgment +upon musical matters in general—and a professed <i>Gambler</i>.</p> + +<p><i>4th.</i> Rained all day. A lost day to comfort outside and in.</p> + +<p><i>5th.</i> Another day of the same sort. Weary with looking at the +sea.<a name="page_157" id="page_157"></a></p> + +<p><i>6th.</i> Clearing. Sunshine at intervals.</p> + +<p><i>7th.</i> Mr. Kinney called in afternoon. Conversation related to +Americans in Europe. Came to the conclusion that as a general rule +none but the class denominated "fast" come to Europe and like it. +Mr.—— said he would give any American young gentleman or lady +just 18 months in European society to lose all refinement and all +moral principle, young ladies in particular. The moral principle +cannot be strong when one is <i>laughed at for blushing</i>!</p> + +<p><i>8th.</i> Mr. and Mrs. L—— came over in the evening. Sat two hours. +Discussed Europe generally and decided <i>America</i> was the <i>only +place for decent people to live in</i>. <i>Death</i> is all over Europe, an +epidemic that has no cure. Death of all moral responsibility. Death +of ambition in the way of virtue. Death of all comforts of life. +The last man that dies will be carried from the <i>card table</i>.</p></div> + +<p>In my own recollection of Nice the two men principally mentioned in my +mother's diary, Khalil Bey and Admiral Farragut, stand out strikingly. +Khalil Bey was a fabulously rich Turk who spent his life wandering +luxuriously over the face of the earth with a huge retinue of retainers +nearly as picturesque as he was. He was a big, dark, murderous looking +creature, not unattractive in a sinister, strange, and piratical way. He +had a wild and lurid record and was especially notorious for his +reckless gambling, at which his luck was said to be miraculous. He was +an opera enthusiast, having heard it in every city in Europe, and was +one of Adelina's admirers. My mother disliked him exceedingly, declaring +he was like a big snake. But my mother never had any tolerance for +foreign noblemen. There were many of them at Nice and her comments were +caustic and often apt. I remember her casual summing up of the Marquis +de Talleyrand (the<a name="page_158" id="page_158"></a> particular friend of Mrs. Stevens, an American woman +from Hoboken whom he afterwards married) as "a young man belonging to +some goose pond or other!"</p> + +<p>Admiral Farragut, who was in the harbour with his flagship the +<i>Hartford</i> and several other American battle-ships, was greatly fêted, +being just then a great hero of the war. The United States Consul gave a +reception for him which he explained in advance was to be +"characteristically American." The only noticeable thing about the +entertainment seemed to be the quantity and variety of drinkables that +were unceasingly served by swift and persuasive waiters. The +Continentals must have had a startling impression of American thirst! +The Admiral himself, however, was hardly given time to swallow anything +at all, people were so anxious to ask him questions and to shake hands.</p> + +<p>The Stebbinses and McHenrys joined us when we had been in Nice only a +short time, and, after a little stay there together, we went on by way +of Genoa and the Corniche Road to Pisa, and thence to Florence. At +Florence we met the Admiral again and found him more charming the better +we knew him. In Florence, too, we had several glimpses of the Grisi +family, Madame and her three daughters. Grisi was, I think, a striking +example of a singer being born and not made. When she sang Adalgisa in +<i>Norma</i> in Milan, she made a sudden and overwhelming hit. Next day every +one was rushing about demanding, "Who was her teacher? Who gave her this +wonderful style and tone?" Grisi herself was asked about it and she gave +the names of several teachers under whom she had worked. But, needless +to say, another Grisi was never made. In her case it didn't happen to be +the teacher. Often the credit is given to the master when<a name="page_159" id="page_159"></a> it really +belongs to the pupil, or, rather, to <i>le bon Dieu</i> who made the vocal +chords in the first place. For, however we may agree or disagree about +fundamental requirements for an artist—breath control, voice placing, +tone colour, interpretation,—the simple fact remains that the one great +essential for a singer is a voice! One little story that I recall of +Grisi interested me. It was said that, when she was growing old and +severe exertion told on her, she always, after her fall as Lucretia +Borgia, had a glass of beer come up through the floor to her and would +drink it as she lay there with her back half turned to the audience. +This is what was <i>said</i>; and it seemed to me like a very good scheme.</p> + +<p>The director of the railway between Rome and Naples, M. De la Haute, put +his private car at our disposal. In the present era of cars equipped +with baths and barber shops, libraries and writing rooms, it would seem +primitive, but it was quite the last word in the railroad luxury of that +period. I was charmed with the Italian scenery as we steamed through it +and, above all, with the highly pictorial peasants that we passed. Their +clothes, of quaint cut and vivid hues, were exactly like stage costumes.</p> + +<p>"Why," I exclaimed excitedly, peering from the car window, "they are all +just out of scenes from <i>Fra Diavolo</i>!"</p> + +<p>We were, indeed, going through the mountains of the <i>Fra Diavolo</i> +country, where the inhabitants lived in continual fear of the bands of +brigands that infested the mountains. Zerlina and Fra Diavolo were +literally in their midst.</p> + +<p>M. De la Haute gave a delightful breakfast for us on one of the terraces +outside Naples with the turquoise blue bay beneath, the marvellous +Italian sky overhead,<a name="page_160" id="page_160"></a> and Vesuvius before us. Albert Bierstadt, the +American artist, was of the company, and afterwards turned up in Rome, +whither we went next. When we made the ascent of Vesuvius, my mother +recounts in her diary: "There must have been at least a hundred Italian +devils jumping about and screaming to take us up. It seemed as if they +must have just jumped out of the burning brimstone."</p> + +<p>In Rome we dined with Charlotte Cushman. This was, of course, some years +before her death and she was not yet ravaged by her tragic illness. She +was very full of anecdotes of her friends, the Carlyles, Tennyson, and +others, whom she had just left in England. To our little party was added +Emma Stebbins, who had been doing famously in sculpture, and, also, +Harriet Hosmer, the artist, as well as one or two clever men. It was +Carnival Week, and so I had my first glimpse of a true Continental +<i>festa</i>. I had never before seen any real Latin merriment. The +Anglo-Saxon variety is apt to be heavy, rough, or vulgar. But those +fascinating people had the wonderful power of being genuinely and +innocently gay. They became like happy children at play. They threw +confetti, sang and laughed, and tossed flowers about. It was a veritable +lesson in joy to us more sober and commonplace Americans who looked on.</p> + +<p>While I was in Rome I was presented to the Pope, Pius IX, a most lovely +and genial personality with a delightful atmosphere about him. I was +told that he had very much wanted to be made Pope and had played the +invalid so that the Cardinals would not think it was very important +whether they elected him or not; so that they could say (as they did +say), "Let us elect him:—he'll die anyhow!" He was duly<a name="page_161" id="page_161"></a> elected and, +just as soon as he was in the Pontifical Chair, his health became +miraculously restored! When we were presented I could not help being +amused at the extraordinary articles brought by people for the good man +to bless. One woman had a pair of marble hands. Another offered the +Pontiff a photograph of himself; and his Holiness had evident difficulty +in keeping a straight face as he explained to her that really he could +not bless a likeness of himself. Etiquette at these Vatican receptions +is very strict as to what one must wear, what one must do, and where one +must stand. Sebasti, of Sebasti e Reali, the famous Roman bankers, has +the tale to tell of a Hebrew millionaire from America who contrived to +secure an invitation to one of these select audiences and, not being +able to see the Pope clearly on account of the crowd, climbed upon a +chair to get a better view. In the twinkling of an eye a dozen +attendants were after him, whispering harshly, "Giù! Giù! Giù!" ("Get +down! Get down! Get down!") and the Israelite climbed down exclaiming in +crestfallen accents: "How did you know it?"</p> + +<p>I have never been presented to the present Pope, but I gather from my +friends in Rome that his administration is, as usual, a rather +complicated affair. The ruling power is Cardinal Rampolla, the Mephisto +of the Church, for whom a distinguished Marchesa has a <i>salon</i> and +entertains, so that, in this way, he can meet people on neutral ground.</p> + +<p>On our return trip we crossed Mont Cenis by diligence. From Lombardy, +with the smell of orange flowers all about us, we mounted up and up +until the green growing things became fewer and frailer, and the air +chillier and more rarified. Between six and seven thousand feet up we +struck snow and changed to a<a name="page_162" id="page_162"></a> sleigh. We made the whole trip in eleven +hours—a record in those days. Think of it, you modern tourists who +cross Mont Cenis in three! But you will do well to envy us our diligence +and sleigh just the same, for you—oh, horrors!—have to do it through a +tunnel instead of over a mountain pass! We felt quite adventurous, for +it was generally considered a rather hazardous undertaking. By March +first we were back again in Paris and, before the end of the month, Mr. +Jarrett and Arditi joined us with my renewed contract with Colonel +Mapleson.</p> + +<p>It seemed to me a very short period before it was time for me to go back +to Drury Lane for the real London season. Spring had come and Mapleson +was ready to make a record opera season; so we said good-bye to our +friends in Paris and turned once more toward England.<a name="page_163" id="page_163"></a></p> + +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XVI" id="CHAPTER_XVI"></a>CHAPTER XVI<br /><br /> +FELLOW-ARTISTS</h2> + +<p class="nind"><span class="letra">M</span>Y mother's diary reads as follows:</p> + +<div class="blockquot"><p><i>March 25</i> Left Paris for London accompanied by Arditi and Mr. +Jarrett. Came by Dover and Calais. Very sick. Had a band on the +boat to entice the passengers into the idea that everything was +lovely and there is no such thing as seasickness. Arrived in London +at ten minutes before six.</p> + +<p><i>28.</i> Went out house-hunting. Rooms too small.</p> + +<p><i>29.</i> House-hunting. Dirty houses. A vast difference between +American and English housekeeping. Couldn't stand it. Visited ten. +Col. Chandler came in the evening. Miss Jarrett went with us.</p> + +<p><i>30.</i> Went again. Saw a highfalutin Lady who said she wanted to get +a <i>fancy price</i> for her house. Couldn't see it.</p> + +<p><i>April 1st.</i> Miss Jarrett, Lou and I started again and had about +given up the ship when Louise discovered a house with "to let" on +it. So we ventured in without cards. Lovely! <i>Neat</i> and <i>nice</i>. +Beautiful large garden, lawn, etc. We were taken to see the Agent +who had it in charge. When we got outside we 3 embraced each other +and I screamed with <i>joy</i>. She (the Landlady) was the first to have +a house "to let" that was not painted and powdered an inch thick.</p> + +<p><i>2.</i> Rehearsal of <i>Traviata</i> for the 4th. Three hours long. +Bettini, Santley, Poley and "Miss Kellogg."</p> + +<p><i>3.</i> Stage rehearsal.<a name="page_164" id="page_164"></a></p> + +<p><i>4.</i> First appearance in the regular season of Miss Kellogg in +<i>Traviata</i>. Prince of Wales came down end of 2nd act and +congratulated her warmly. Also brought the warmest congratulations +from the Princess—splendid—called out three times—received 8 +bouquets. Forgot powder—sent Annie home—too late—hurried, +daubed, nervous, out of breath. Couldn't get champagne opened quick +enough—rushed and tore—delayed orchestra 5 minutes—got on all +right—at last—went off splendidly. Miss Jarrett, Mr. Jarrett, +Arditi, Mr. Bennett of the Press [critic of <i>The Daily Telegraph</i>] +came and congratulated Louise. The Prince of Wales was very +kind—said he remembered the hospitality of the Americans to him +years agone. [Louise] Had a new ball room dress—all white with red +camilias.</p></div> + +<p>This somewhat incoherent record as jotted down by my mother is sketchy +but true in spirit. Never in my life, before or since, was I ever so +nervous as at our opening performance in London of <i>Traviata</i>; no, not +even had my American <i>début</i> tried me so sorely. Everything in the world +went wrong that could go wrong on this occasion. I forgot my powder and +the skirt of my dress, and Annie, my maid, had to rush home in a cab to +get them. I tore my costume while making my first entrance and had to +play the entire act with a streamer of silk dangling at my feet. I went +on half made up, daubed, nervous, out of breath. <i>Never</i> was I in such a +state of nerves. But to my astonishment I made a very big success. There +was a burst of applause after the first act and I could hardly believe +my ears. It struck me as most extraordinary that what I considered so +unsatisfactory should please the house. Several of the artists singing +with me came to me during the evening much upset.<a name="page_165" id="page_165"></a></p> + +<p>"Don't you know why everything on the stage has been going so badly +to-night?" they said. "We've a <i>jettatura</i> in front!"</p> + +<p>Madame Erminie Rudersdorf, the mother of Richard Mansfield, was in one +of the boxes; and she was generally believed to have the Evil Eye. The +Italian singers took it very seriously indeed and made horns all through +the opera (that is, kept their fingers crossed) to ward off the satanic +influence! Madame Rudersdorf was a tall, heavy, and swarthy Russian with +ominously brilliant eyes; and one of the most commanding personalities I +ever came in contact with. Although she had a dangerously bad temper, I +never saw any evidences of it, nor of the <i>jettatura</i> either. She came +that night and congratulated me:—and it meant something from her.</p> + +<p>My professional vocation has brought me up against almost every +conceivable superstition, from Brignoli's stuffed deer's head to the +more commonplace fetish against thirteen as a number. But I never saw +any one more obsessed by an idea of this sort than Christine Nilsson. +She actually would not sing unless some one "held her thumbs" first. +"Holding thumbs" is quite an ancient way of inviting good luck. One +promises to "hold one's thumbs" for a friend who is going through some +ordeal, like a first night or an operation for appendicitis or a wedding +or anything else desperate. Nilsson was the first person I ever knew who +practised the charm the other way about. Before she would even go on the +stage somebody, if only the stage carpenter, had to take hold of her two +thumbs and press them. She was convinced that the mystic rite brought +her good fortune. Many of the Italian artists that I knew believed in +the efficacy of coral as a talisman <a name="page_166" id="page_166"></a>and always kept a bit of it about +them to rub "for luck" just before they went on for their part of the +performance. Somebody has told me that Emma Trentini had a queer +individual superstition: when she was singing for Hammerstein she would +never go on the stage until he had given her a quarter of a dollar! +Ridiculous as all these <i>idées fixes</i> appear when writing them down, I +am convinced that they do help some people. A sense of confidence is a +great, an invaluable thing, and whatever can bring that about must +necessarily, however foolish in itself, make for a measure of success. I +caught Nilsson's "holding thumbs" trick myself without ever believing in +it, and often have done it to people since in a sort of general +luck-wishing, friendly spirit. The last time I was in Algiers I entered +an antique shop that I always visit there and found the little woman who +kept it in a somewhat indisposed and depressed state of mind:—so much +so in fact that when I left I pinched her thumbs for luck. Not long +afterwards I had the sweetest letter from her. "I cannot thank you +enough," she wrote; "you did something—whatever it was—that has +brought me luck. I feel sure it is all through you!"</p> + +<p>To return to my mother's diary after our first performance of <i>Traviata</i> +in London:</p> + +<div class="blockquot"><p><i>Sunday.</i> Sat around. Afternoon drove through Hyde Park.</p> + +<p><i>Monday 6th.</i> Rehearsal of <i>Gazza Ladra</i>. I went all over to find +dress for Linda—failed.</p> + +<p><i>Tuesday.</i> Moved out to 48 Grove End Road—8 guineas a week. +Received check on County Bank from Mapleson for £100. Drew the +money.<a name="page_167" id="page_167"></a></p> + +<p><i>Wednesday 8th.</i> Heard rehearsal of <i>Gazza Ladra</i>. Remained in +theatre till 5.25 <span class="smcap">P.M.</span> fitting costume. Rode home in 22 minutes.</p> + +<p><i>Thursday 9th.</i> Saw Linda. Magnificent. Best thing. Called out +three times. Bouquet—dress—yellow. <i>Moire</i> blue satin apron—pink +roses—gay!</p> + +<p><i>Friday—Good Friday.</i> Regulated house. In the evening <i>Don +Giovanni</i> was performed. Louise wore her Barber dress—pink satin +one—made by Madame Vinfolet in New York—splendid! Poli told me +that in the height of the Messiah Season he often made 75 guineas a +week. He looked at his operatic engagement as secondary.</p> + +<p><i>Sunday 12.</i> Louise received basket of Easter eggs with a beautiful +bluebird over them from Mrs. McHenry—Paris—beautiful—shall take +it to America. Mrs. G—— dined with us at 5.</p> + +<p><i>13th.</i> Rehearsal of <i>G. Ladra</i>—3 hours. I took cold waiting in +cold room. No letters.</p> + +<p><i>Tuesday 14.</i> Letters from Mary Gray, Nell and Leonard and Carter. +Pay day at Theatre but it didn't come. 3 hours rehearsal. At 4 <span class="smcap">P.M.</span> +Louise, Mr. S—— and I called by appointment upon the Duchess of +Somerset. Met her 3 nieces and the Belgian Minister—a splendid +affair—tea was served at 5—went home—dined at 6—went to Covent +Garden to hear Mario & Fionetti, the latter said to be the best +type of Italian school. Louise thought little of it. Didn't know +whether to think less of Davidson's judgment or more of her own.</p> + +<p class="cb">. . . . . +. . . . . +. . . . . +. . . . . +. . . . .</p> + +<p><i>21st.</i> Green room rehearsal of <i>Gazza Ladra</i>. <i>Don Giovanni</i> in +the evening—fine house.</p> + +<p><i>22nd.</i> Rehearsed one act of <i>Gazza Ladra</i>. Louise tired and +nervous. Rained. Santley rode part way home with us.</p> + +<p><i>23rd.</i> <i>Rigoletto</i>—full house—Duke of Newcastle brought Lord +Duppelin for introduction. Opera went off splendidly.<a name="page_168" id="page_168"></a> Check for +£100. Saw the Godwins—Bryant's son-in-law.</p> + +<p><i>24th. Friday.</i> Drew the money. Reception at the Langs.</p> + +<p><i>25th.</i> Louise went to new Philharmonic to rehearsal. In the +evening went to Queen's Theatre to see Toole in <i>Oliver +Twist</i>—splendid. Mr. Santley went to Paris.</p> + +<p><i>26th. Sunday.</i> Dr. Quinn, Mr. Fechter and Arditi called. Louise +and Miss Jarrett washed the dog! [This pet was one of the puppies +of Titjiens's tiny and beautiful Pomeranian and I had it for a long +time and adored it.] The 3 Miss Edwards called. Letter from Sarah.</p> + +<p><i>27.</i> Louise and I go to Rehearsal of <i>Gazza Ladra</i> and to hear Mr. +Fechter in <i>No Thoroughfare</i>. He thinks more of himself than of the +thoroughfare—good performance though. Letter from George +Farnsworth.</p> + +<p><i>28.</i> Clear and cold. Rehearsed <i>Gazza Ladra</i>.</p> + +<p><i>29.</i> [Louise] sang at Philharmonic—duet <i>Nozze di Figaro</i> with +Foli.</p> + +<p><i>30th.</i> Long rehearsal of Gazza. Dined at Duchess of Somerset's at +8 <span class="smcap">P.M.</span> Met many best men of London. Duke of Newcastle took Louise +in to dinner. Col. Williams took me. Duchess is an old tyrant—sang +Louise to death—unmerciful—I despise her for her selfishness.</p></div> + +<p>Indeed, every minute of those spring weeks was occupied and more than +occupied. I never was so busy before and never had such a good time. The +"season" was a delightful one; and certainly no one had a more varied +part in it than I. Thanks to the Dowager Duchess and our friends we went +out frequently; and I was singing four and five times a week counting +concerts. Private concerts were a great fad that season and I have often +sung at two or three different ones in the same evening.</p> + +<p>Colonel Mapleson was in great feather, having three <i>prime donne</i> at his +disposal at once, for Christine<a name="page_169" id="page_169"></a> Nilsson had soon joined us, that +curious mixture of "Scandinavian calm and Parisian elegance" as I have +heard her described. No two singers were ever less alike, either +physically or temperamentally, than she and I; yet, oddly enough, we +over and over again followed each other in the same <i>rôles</i>. Titjiens, +Nilsson, and I sang together a great deal that season, not only in opera +but also in concert. Our voices went well together and we always got on +pleasantly. Madame Titjiens was no longer at the zenith of her great +power, but she was very fine for all that. I admired Titjiens greatly as +an artist in spite of her perfunctory acting. Cold and stately, she was +especially effective in purely classic music, having at her command all +its traditions:—Donna Anna for instance, and Fidelio and the Contessa. +I sang with her in the Mozart operas. Particularly do I recall one night +when the orchestra was under the direction of Sir Michael Costa. Both +Titjiens and Nilsson were singing with me, and the former had to follow +me in the <i>recitative</i>. Where Susanna gives the attacking note to the +Contessa Sir Michael's 'cello gave me the wrong chord. I perceived it +instantly, my absolute pitch serving me well, but I hardly knew what to +do. I was singing in Italian, which made the problem even more +difficult; but, as I sang, my sixth sense was working subconsciously. I +was saying over and over in my brain: "<i>I've got to give Titjiens the +right note or the whole thing will be a mess. How am I going to do it?</i>" +I sang around in circles until I was able to give the Contessa the +correct note. Titjiens gratefully caught it up and all came out well. +When the number was over, both Titjiens and Nilsson came and +congratulated me for what they recognised as a good piece of +musicianship. But Sir Michael was in a rage.<a name="page_170" id="page_170"></a></p> + +<p>"What do you mean," he demanded, "by taking liberties with the music +like that?"</p> + +<p>One cannot afford to antagonise a conductor and he was, besides, so +irascible a man that I did not care to mention to him that his 'cello +had been at fault. He was a most indifferent musician as well as a +narrow, obstinate man, although London considered him a very great +leader. He only infuriated me the more by remarking indulgently, one +night not long after, as if overlooking my various artistic +shortcomings: "Well, well,—you're a very pretty woman anyway!" It was +his "anyway" that irrevocably settled matters between us. He disliked +Nilsson too. He declared both in public and in private that her use of +her voice was mere "charlatanry and trickery" and not worthy to be +called musical. Nilsson was not, in fact, a good musician; few <i>prime +donne</i> are. On one occasion she did actually sing one bar in advance of +the accompaniment for ten consecutive measures. This is almost +inconceivable, but she did it, and Sir Michael never forgave her.</p> + +<p>Mapleson was planning as a <i>tour de force</i> with which to stun London a +series of operas in which he could present all of us. "All-star casts" +were rare in those days. Most managers saved their singers and doled +them out judiciously, one at a time, in a very conservative fashion. But +Mapleson had other notions. Our "all-star" Mozart casts were the wonder +of all London. Think of <i>Don Giovanni</i> with Santley as the Don and +Titjiens as Donna Anna; Nilsson as Donna Elvira, Rockitanski of Vienna +the Leporello, and myself as Zerlina! Think of <i>Le Nozze di Figaro</i> with +Titjiens as the Countess, Nilsson Cherubino, Santley the Count, and me +as Susanna! These were casts unequalled in all Europe—almost, I +believe, in all time!<a name="page_171" id="page_171"></a></p> + +<p>Gye, of Covent Garden, declared that we were killing the goose that laid +the golden egg by putting all our <i>prime donne</i> into one opera. He said +that this made it not only impossible for rival houses to draw any +audiences, but that it also cut off our own noses. Nobody wanted to go +on ordinary nights to hear operas that had only one <i>prima donna</i> in +them when they could go on star nights and hear three at once. However, +Colonel Mapleson found that the scheme paid and our "triple-cast" +performances brought us most sensational houses. Personally, as I have +already said, I never liked Mapleson, and I had many causes for +resentment in a business way. I remember one battle I had with him and +the stage manager about a dress I was to wear in <i>Le Nozze di Figaro</i>. I +do not recall what it was they wanted me to wear; but I know that, +whatever it was, I would not wear it. I left in the middle of rehearsal, +drove home in an excited state of indignation, and seized upon poor +Colonel Stebbins, always my steady help in time of trouble. He went, +saw, fought, and conquered, after which the rehearsals went on more or +less peaceably.</p> + +<p>Undoubtedly we had some fine artists at Her Majesty's, but occasionally +Mapleson missed a big chance of securing others. One day we were putting +on our wraps after rehearsal when my mother and I heard a lovely +contralto voice. On inquiry, we learned that Colonel Mapleson and Arditi +were trying the voice of a young Italian woman who had come to London in +search of an engagement. The Colonel and the Director sat in the +orchestra while the young woman sang an <i>aria</i> from <i>Semiramide</i>. When +the trial was over the girl went away at once and I rushed out to speak +to Mapleson.<a name="page_172" id="page_172"></a></p> + +<p>"Surely you engaged that enchanting singer!" I exclaimed.</p> + +<p>"Indeed I didn't," he replied.</p> + +<p>She went directly to Gye at Covent Garden, who engaged her promptly and, +when she appeared two weeks later, she made a sensation. Her name was +Sofia Scalchi.</p> + +<p>Besides the private concerts of that season there were also plenty of +public concerts, a particularly notable one being a Handel Festival at +the Crystal Palace on May 1st, when I sang <i>Oh, had I Jubal's Lyre</i>! +Everything connected with that occasion was on a large scale. There were +seven thousand people in the house, the largest audience by far that I +had ever sung to before. The place was so crowded that people hung about +the doors trying to get in even after every seat was filled; and not one +person left the hall until after I had finished—a remarkable record in +its way! Some time later, when I was on my way home to America and +wanted to buy some antiques, I wandered into a little, odd Dickens-like +shop in Wardour Street. I wanted to have some articles sent on approval +to meet me at Liverpool, but hesitated to ask the old man in the shop to +take such a risk without knowing me. To my surprise he smiled at me a +kindly, wrinkled smile and said, with the prettiest old-fashioned bow:</p> + +<p>"Madame, you are welcome to take any liberties you will with my entire +stock. I heard you sing 'Jubal's Lyre.' I shall never forget it, nor be +able to repay you for the pleasure you gave me!"</p> + +<p>I always felt this to be one of my sincerest tributes. Perhaps that is +partly why the night of my first Crystal Hall Concert remains so clearly +defined in my memory.</p> + +<p>My mother's diary of this period continues:<a name="page_173" id="page_173"></a></p> + +<div class="blockquot"><p><i>May 4.</i> Mr. Santley dined with us. Played Besique in the evening. +<i>I beat</i>.</p> + +<p><i>5.</i> Louise and I went to St. James Hall rehearsal. After went to +Theatre. Learned Nilsson did not have as good a house 2nd night as +Louise's first one in <i>La Gazza Ladra</i>. Mr. Arditi came to rehearse +the waltz.</p> + +<p><i>6th.</i> <i>La Gazza Ladra.</i> Full house—enthusiasm—Duke of Newcastle +came in.</p> + +<p><i>7.</i> Arditi's rehearsal for his concert at his house at 5 +<span class="smcap">P.M.</span>—went—house full—hot and funny. Mr. S—— came in the +evening—played one game Besique.</p> + +<p><i>8.</i> Intended to go to Haymarket Theatre but Miss J—— had +headache. Santley came in the afternoon to practise Susanna.</p> + +<p><i>9.</i> Santley called. McHenry and Stebbins, with another Budget of +disagreeables from Mapleson who, not satisfied with cheating her +[Louise] out of $500., deliberately asked her to give him 3 nights +more! Shall have his money if we have to go to law about it.</p> + +<p><i>Monday.</i> [Louise] Sang at Old Philharmonic flute song from <i>The +Star</i>. Mr. Stebbins went to Jarrett and told him Miss Kellogg would +sing no longer than the 15th—her engagement closes then—but that +Mapleson must pay her what he owed her—that he would have the +checks that day or sue him.</p> + +<p><i>Tuesday.</i> Just got the second check of £150, showing that a little +<i>hell fire and brimstone administered in large doses</i> is a good +thing. The Englishman has not outwitted the Yankee yet!</p> + +<p><i>12.</i> Louise sang <i>Don Giovanni</i>—Titjiens "Donna Anna," Santley +"Don Giovanni," Nilsson "Elvira." Crowded house—seats sold at a +premium—Louise received all the honours—everything encored—4 +bouquets. Nilsson and Titjiens were encored only for the grand +trio. The applause on <i>Batti Batti</i> was something unequalled.</p> + +<p><i>13.</i> Went to photographers. Miss Jarrett, Santley and ourselves +dined at Mr. Stebbins'—went to hear Lucca<a name="page_174" id="page_174"></a> in <i>Fra Diavolo</i>—was +delighted—she was not pretty but intelligent—sang well—not +remarkable, but showed great cleverness—full of talent—acted it +well—filled out the scenes—kept the thing going. The Tenor was +good. I remained through the second act. Dropped my fan onto a bald +head. Went over to Drury Lane—heard one act of <i>The Hugenots</i>.</p> + +<p><i>14.</i> Mr. S—— dined with us—played Besique in the +evening—Louise beat of course.</p> + +<p><i>15.</i> [Louise] Sang <i>Don Giovanni</i> to a full house. Bennett came +and Smith and Mapleson and Duke of Newcastle.</p> + +<p><i>16.</i> Santley sang in rehearsal <i>Le Nozze di Figaro</i>. Mr. Stebbins +dined with us. Played solitaire in the evening with the new Besique +box.</p></div> + +<p>I sang several times at the Crystal Palace Concerts with Sims Reeves, +the idolised English tenor. Never have I heard of or imagined an artist +so spoiled as Reeves. The spring was a very hot one for London, although +to us who were accustomed to the summer heat of America, it seemed +nothing. But poor Sims Reeves evidently expected to have heat +prostration or a sunstroke, for he always wore a big cork helmet to +rehearsals, the kind that officers wear on the plains of India. The +picture he made sitting under his huge helmet with a white puggaree +around it, fanning himself feebly, was one never to be forgotten. He had +a somewhat frumpy wife who waited on him like a slave. I had little +patience with him, especially with his trick of disappointing his +audiences at the eleventh hour. But he could sing! He was a real artist, +and, when he was not troubling about the temperature, or his diet, he +was an artist with whom it was a privilege to sing. I remember singing +with him and Mme. Patey at a concert at Albert Hall. Mme. Patey was<a name="page_175" id="page_175"></a> an +admirable contralto and gifted with a superb technique. We three sang a +trio without a rehearsal and, when it was over, Reeves declared that it +was really wonderful the way in which we all three had "taken breath" at +exactly the same points, showing that we were all well trained and could +phrase a song in the only one correct way. This was also noticed and +remarked upon by several professionals who were present.</p> + +<p>I also sang with Alboni. At an Albert Hall concert on my second visit to +England a year or two later, I said to her:</p> + +<p>"Madame, I cannot tell you how honoured I feel in singing on the same +programme with you."</p> + +<p>She bowed and smiled. She was a very, very large woman, heavily built, +but she carried her size with remarkable dignity. I was considerably +amused when she replied:</p> + +<p>"Ah, Mademoiselle, I am only a shadow of what I have been!"</p> + +<p>My most successful song that season was my old song <i>Beware</i>. It was +unusual to see a <i>prima donna</i> play her own accompaniment, which I +always did to this song and to most <i>encores</i>. The simple, rather +insipid melody was written by Moulton, the first husband of the present +Baronne de Hegeman, and it was not long before it was the rage in the +sentimental younger set of London. How tired I became of that ridiculous +sign-post cover and the "As Sung by Miss Clara Louise Kellogg" staring +up at me! And how much more tired of the foolish tune:</p> + +<p class="figcenter"> +<a href="images/ill_pg_175_lg.png"> +<img src="images/ill_pg_175_sml.png" width="550" height="92" alt="Musical notation; I know a maid-en fair to see, Take +care! Take care!" title="musical notation" /></a> +</p> + +<p><a name="page_176" id="page_176"></a></p> + +<p>One of the greatest honours paid me was the command to sing in one of +the two concerts at Buckingham Palace given each season by the reigning +sovereign. I have always kept the letter that told me I had been chosen +for this great privilege. Cusins, from whom it came, was the Director of +the Queen's music at the Palace.<a name="page_177" id="page_177"></a></p> + +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XVII" id="CHAPTER_XVII"></a>CHAPTER XVII<br /><br /> +THE ROYAL CONCERTS AT BUCKINGHAM</h2> + +<p class="nind"><span class="letra">T</span>HE Royal Private Concerts at Buckingham Palace formed in those days, +and I believe still form, the last word in exclusiveness. Many persons +who have been presented at court, in company with a great crowd of other +social aspirants, never come close enough to the inner circle of royalty +to get within even "speaking distance" of these concerts. In them the +court etiquette is almost mediæval in its brilliant formality; and yet a +certain intimacy prevails which could not be possible in a less +carefully chosen gathering. So sacred an institution is the Royal +Concert that they have a fixed price—twenty-five guineas for all the +solo singers, whatever their customary salaries,—the discrepancies +between the greater and the lesser being supposedly filled in with the +colossal honour done the artists by being asked to appear.</p> + +<p>Queen Victoria seldom presided at these or similar functions. The Prince +of Wales usually represented the Crown and did the honours, always +exceedingly well. I have been told by people who professed to know that +his good nature was rather taken advantage of by his august mother, who +not only worked him half to death in his official capacity, but never +allowed him enough income for the purpose. Personally, I always liked +the Prince. He was a tactful, courteous<a name="page_178" id="page_178"></a> man with real artistic feeling +and cultivation. He filled a difficult position with much graciousness +and good sense. More than once has he come behind the scenes during an +operatic performance to congratulate and encourage me. The Princess was +good looking, but was said to be both dull and inflexible. The former +impression might easily have been the result of her deafness that so +handicapped her where social graces were concerned. She could not hear +herself speak and, therefore, used a voice so low as to be almost +inaudible. When she spoke to me I could not hear a word of what she +said. I hope it was agreeable.</p> + +<p>My mother's entries in her diary at this point are:</p> + +<div class="blockquot"><p><i>Monday. 17</i>. 3 <span class="smcap">P.M.</span> Rehearsal at Anderson's for Buckingham Palace +Concert. Met Lucca there. A perfect original. Private concert in +the evening at No. 7 Grafton Street. Pinsuti conducted. Louise +<i>encored</i> with <i>Beware</i>. Concert commenced at eleven. Closed at 2 +<span class="smcap">A.M.</span> Saw about five bushels of diamonds.</p> + +<p><i>18th. Tuesday.</i> Went to Buckingham Palace. Rehearsed at eleven. +Very good palace, but dirty.</p> + +<p><i>19.</i> Rehearsal of Somnambula. Got home at 4. Mr. S—— came in the +evening.</p> + +<p><i>20.</i> Buckingham Palace Concert.</p></div> + +<p>The rehearsal at Buckingham Palace was held in the great ballroom with +the Queen's orchestra, under Cusins, and the artists were Titjiens, +Lucca, Faure, and myself. These concerts were composed of picked singers +from both Covent Garden and Her Majesty's and were supposed to represent +the best of each. As my mother notes, I first met Pauline Lucca +there—such an odd little creature. She amused me immensely. She was +always doing absurd things and making quaint,<a name="page_179" id="page_179"></a> entertaining speeches. +She was not pretty, but her eyes were beautiful. On this occasion, I +remember, Titjiens was rehearsing one of her great, classic <i>arias</i>. +When she had finished we all, the orchestra included, applauded. Lucca +was sitting between Faure and myself, her feet nowhere near touching the +floor, and she applauded rhythmically and quite indifferently, +slap-bang! slap-bang! slinging her arms out so as to hit both of us and +then slapping them together, the while she kicked up her small feet like +a child of six. She was regardless of appearances and was applauding to +please herself.</p> + +<p>Lucca used to warn me not to abuse my upper notes. We knew her as almost +a mezzo. She told me, however, that she had once had an exceedingly high +voice, and that one of her best parts was Leonora in <i>Trovatore</i>. She +had abused her gift; but she always had a delightful quality of voice +and put a great deal of personality into her work.</p> + +<p>The approach to the Palace on concert nights was very impressive, for +the Grenadier Guards were drawn up outside, and inside were other guards +even more gorgeously arrayed than the cavalry. In the concert room +itself was stationed a royal bodyguard of the Yeomen of the Guards. The +commanding officer was called the Exon-in-Waiting. The proportions of +the room were magnificent and there were some fine frescoes and an +effective way of lighting up the stained glass windows from the outside; +but the general impression was not particularly regal. The decorations +were plain and dull—for a palace. The stage was arranged with chairs, +rising tier above tier, very much like a stage for oratorio singers. +Before royalty appears, the singers seat themselves on the stage and +remain there<a name="page_180" id="page_180"></a> until their turn comes to sing. This is always a trial to +a singer, who really needs to get into the mood and to warm up to her +appearance. To stand up in cold blood and just <i>sing</i> is discouraging. +The prospect of this dreary deliberateness did not tend to raise our +spirits as we sat and waited.</p> + +<p>At last, after we had become utterly depressed and out of spirits, there +was a little stir and the great doors at the side of the ballroom were +thrown open. First of all entered the Silver-Sticks in Waiting, a dozen +or so of them, backing in, two by two. All were, of course, +distinguished men of title and position; and they were dressed in +costumes in which silver was the dominant note and carried long wands of +silver. They were followed by the Gold-Sticks in Waiting—men of even +more exalted rank—and, finally, by the Royal Party. We all arose and +curtesied, remaining standing until their Highnesses were seated.</p> + +<p>The concerts were called informal and therefore long trains and court +veils were not insisted on; but the men had to appear in ceremonial +dress—knee breeches and silk stockings—and the women invariably wore +gorgeous costumes and family jewels, so that the scene was one full of +colour and glitter. The uniforms of the Ambassadors of different +countries made brilliant spots of colour. The Prince of Wales and his +Princess simply sparkled with orders and decorations. I happened to hear +the names of a few of her Royal Highness's. They were the Orders of +Victoria and Albert, the Star of India, St. Catherine of Russia, and the +Danish Family Order. She also wore many of the crown jewels, and with +excellent taste on every occasion I have seen her. With a black satin +gown and court train of crimson, for example, she wore only diamonds;<a name="page_181" id="page_181"></a> +while another time I remember she wore pearls and sapphires with a +velvet gown of cream and pansy colour. Such good sense and discretion in +the choice of gems is rare. So many women seem to think that any jewels +are appropriate to any toilet.</p> + +<p>Tremendously august personages used to be in the audiences of those +Buckingham Palace concerts at which I sang then and later, such as the +Duke and Duchess of Teck, the Prince and Princess Christian of +Schleswig-Holstein, the Duke and Duchess of Cambridge, the Crown Prince +of Sweden and Norway, the Duke and Duchess of Edinburgh. Indeed, +royalty, peers of the realm and ambassadors or representatives, and +members of the court were the only auditors. In spite of this the +concerts were deadly dull, partly, no doubt, because everybody was so +enormously impressed by the ceremony of the occasion and by the rigours +of court etiquette that they did not dare move or hardly breathe. There +was one woman present at my first Buckingham Palace concert, a +lady-in-waiting (she looked as if she had become accustomed to waiting) +who was even more stiff than any one else and about whose décolleté +there seemed to be no termination. Never once, to my certain knowledge, +did she move either head or body an inch to the right or to the left +throughout the performance.</p> + +<p>A breach of etiquette was committed on one occasion by a friend of mine, +a compatriot, who had accompanied me to one of these gilt-edged affairs. +She stood up behind the very last row of the chorus and—used her +opera-glasses! Not unnaturally, she wanted for once, poor girl, to get a +good look at royalty; but it is needless to say that she was hastily and +summarily suppressed.</p> + +<p>When the Prince and Princess were seated the<a name="page_182" id="page_182"></a> concert could begin. There +were two customs that made those functions particularly oppressive. One +was that all applause was forbidden. An artist, particularly a singer or +stage person of any kind, lives and breathes through approbation: and +for a singer to sing her best and then sit down in a dead and stony +silence without any sort of demonstration, is a very chilling +experience. The only indication that a performance had been acceptable +was when the Prince of Wales wriggled his programme in an approving +manner. A hand-clap would have been a terrific breach of etiquette. The +other drawback—and the one that affected the guests even more than the +artists—was that, when once the Prince and Princess were seated, no one +could rise on any pretext or provocation whatever. I think it was at my +second appearance at the Royal Concerts that an amusing incident +occurred which impressed the inconvenience of this regulation upon my +memory. The Duchess of Edinburgh, daughter of the Czar, entered in the +Prince of Wales's party. She looked an irritable, dissatisfied, bilious +person; and I was told that she was always talking about being "the +daughter of the Czar of all the Russias" and that it galled her that +even the Princess of Wales took precedence over her. Those were the good +old days of tie-backs, made of elastic and steel, a sort of modified +hoop-skirt with all of the hoop in the back. The tie-back was the +passing of the hoop and its management was an education in itself. I +remember mine came from Paris and I had had a bit of difficulty in +learning to sit down in it gracefully. Well—the Duchess of Edinburgh +had not mastered the art. She was all right until she sat down and +looked very regal in a gown of thick, heavy white silk and the most +gorgeous of jewels—encrusted<a name="page_183" id="page_183"></a> diamonds and Russian rubies, the latter +nearly the size of a pigeon's eggs. Her tiara and stomacher were so +magnificent that they appalled me. The Prince and Princess sat down and +every one else followed suit, the daughter of the Czar of all the +Russias among the others in the front row. And she sat down wrong. Her +tie-back tilted up as she went down; her skirt rose high in front, +revealing a pair of large feet, clad in white shoes, and large ankles, +nearly up to her knees. There was a footstool under the large feet and +they were very much in evidence the whole evening, posing, entirely +against their owner's will, on a temporary monument. The awful part of +it was that the Duchess knew all about it and was so furious that she +could hardly contain herself. It was a study to watch the daughter of +the Czar of all the Russias in these circumstances. Her face showed how +much she wanted to get up and pull down her dress and hide her robust +pedal extremities, but court etiquette forbade, and the Duchess +suffered.</p> + +<p>The end of everything, as a matter of course, was <i>God Save the Queen</i> +and, as there were nearly always two <i>prime donne</i> present, each of us +sang one verse. All the artists and the chorus sang the third, which +constituted "Good-night" and was the official closing of the +performance. I usually sang the first verse. When the concert was over, +the Prince and Princess with the lesser royalties filed out. They passed +by the front of the stage and always had some agreeable thing to say. I +recall with much pleasure Prince Arthur—the present Duke of +Connaught—stopping to compliment me on a song I had just sung—the +Polonaise from <i>Mignon</i>—and to remind me that I had sung it at Admiral +Dahlgren's reception at the Navy Yard in Washington during his American +visit.<a name="page_184" id="page_184"></a></p> + +<p>"You sang that for me in Washington, didn't you, Miss Kellogg?" he said; +and I was greatly pleased by the slight courteous remembrance.</p> + +<p>After royalty had departed every one drew a long breath of partial +relaxation. The guests could then move about with more or less freedom, +talk with each other, and speak with the artists if they felt so +inclined. I was impressed by the stiffness, the shyness and awkwardness +of the English people—of even these very great English people, the +women especially. One would suppose that authority and ease and +graciousness would be in the very blood of those who are, as the saying +is, "to the manner born," but they did not seem to have that "manner." +Finally I came to the conclusion that they really <i>liked</i> to appear shy +and <i>gauche</i>, and deliberately affected the stiffness and the +awkwardness.</p> + +<p>So much has been said about the Victorian prejudice against divorce and +against scandal of all sorts that no one will be surprised when I say +that, on one occasion when I sang at the Palace, I was the only woman +singer whom the ladies present spoke to, although the gentlemen paid +much attention to the others. The Duchess of Newcastle was particularly +cordial to me, as were also the wife of our American Ambassador and +Consuelo, Duchess of Manchester. My fellow-artists on that occasion were +Adelina Patti and Trebelli Bettina and, as each of them had been +associated with scandal, they were left icily alone. At that time Patti +and Nicolini were not married and the papers had much to say about the +tenor's desertion of his family. I have sung with Nilsson and Patti and +Lucca at these concerts. I have sung with Faure and Santley and Capoul +(nice little Capoul, known in America as "the<a name="page_185" id="page_185"></a> ladies' man") and I have +sung with Scalchi and Titjiens. I have sung there with even the great +Mario.</p> + +<p>There was a supper at the palace after the Royal Concerts—two supper +tables in fact—one for the royal family and one for the artists. I +caught a glimpse on my first appearance there of the table set for the +former with the historic gold plate, with which English crowned heads +entertain their guests. It was splendid, of course, although very heavy +and ponderous, and the food must needs have been something superlative +to have fitted it. I doubt if it was, however, as British cooks are apt +to be mediocre, even those in palaces. Cooking is a matter of the +Epicurean temperament or, rather, with the British, the lack of it. Our +supper was not at all bad in spite of this, although little Lucca did +turn up her nose at it and at the arrangements.</p> + +<p>"What!" she exclaimed tempestuously, "stay here to 'second supper'! +Never! These English prigs want to make us eat with the servants! You +may stay for their horrid supper if you choose. But I would rather +starve—" and off she went, all rustling and fluttering with childish +indignation.</p> + +<p>It was at one of these after-concert "receptions" at the palace that I +had quite a long chat with Adelina Patti about her coming to America. I +urged it, for I knew that a fine welcome was awaiting her here. But +Nicolini,—her husband for the moment,—who was sitting near, exclaimed: +"<i>Vous voulez la tuer!</i>" ("Do you want to kill her!") It seems that they +were both terribly afraid of crossing the ocean, although they +apparently recovered from their dread in later years.</p> + +<p>There was one Royal Concert which will always remain in my memory as the +most marvellous and<a name="page_186" id="page_186"></a> brilliant spectacle, socially speaking, of my whole +life. It was the one given in honour of the Queen's being made Empress +of India and among the guests were not only the aristocracy of Great +Britain, but all the Eastern princes and rajahs representing her +Majesty's new empire. At that time hardly any one had been in India. +Nowadays people make trips around the world and run across to take a +look at the Orient whenever they feel inclined. But then India sounded +to us like a fairy-tale place, impossibly rich and mysterious, a country +out of <i>The Arabian Nights</i> at the very least.</p> + +<p>My mother and I were then living in Belgrave Mansions, not far from the +palace nor from the Victoria Hotel where the Indian princes put up, and +we used to see them passing back and forth, their attendants bearing +exquisitely carved and ornamented boxes containing choice jewels and +decorations and offerings to "The Great White Queen across the +Seas,"—offerings as earnest of good faith and pledges of loyalty. I was +glad to be "commanded" for the Royal Concert at which they were to be +entertained, for I knew that it would be a splendid pageant. And it +turned out to be, as I have said, the richest display I ever saw. The +rich stuffs of the costumes lent themselves most fittingly to a lavish +exhibition of jewels. The ornaments of the royal princesses and +peeresses that I had been admiring up to that occasion seemed as nothing +compared to this array. Every Eastern potentate appeared to be trying to +vie with all the others as to the gems he wore in his turban.</p> + +<p>It would be impossible for me to say how interesting I found all this +sort of thing. It was like a play to me—a delicious play, in which I, +too, had my part. I<a name="page_187" id="page_187"></a> am an imperialist by nature. I love pomp and +ceremony and circumstance and titles. The few times that I have ever +been dissatisfied with my experiences in the lands of crowned heads, it +was merely because there wasn't quite grandeur enough to suit my taste!<a name="page_188" id="page_188"></a></p> + +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XVIII" id="CHAPTER_XVIII"></a>CHAPTER XVIII<br /><br /> +THE LONDON SEASON</h2> + +<p class="nind"><span class="letra">O</span>UR house in St. John's Wood that we rented for our first London season +was small, but it had a front door and a back garden and, on the whole, +we were very happy there. Whenever my mother became bored or +dissatisfied she thought of the hotels on the Continent and immediately +cheered up. There many people sought us out, and others were brought to +see us. Newcastle was always coming with someone interesting in tow. +Leonard Jerome, who built the Jockey Club, came with Newcastle, I +remember, and so did Chevalier Wyckoff, who had something to do with +<i>The Herald</i>, and did not use his title.</p> + +<p class="figcenter"> +<a href="images/duke_of_newcastle_lg.jpg"> +<img src="images/duke_of_newcastle_sml.jpg" width="418" height="550" alt="Duke of Newcastle + +From a photograph by John Burton & Sons" title="" /></a> +<br /> +<span class="caption"><b>Duke of Newcastle</b><br /> + +From a photograph by John Burton & Sons</span> +</p> + +<p>It was always said of the Duke and Duchess of Newcastle that "he married +her for her money and she married him for his title, so that they each +got what they wanted." It may have been true and probably was, for they +did not seem an ardently devoted couple, and yet it is difficult to +believe the rather cruel report—they were both so much too lovable to +merit it. The Duchess was a beauty and, when she wore the big, blue, +Hope Diamond,—(I have often seen her wearing it) she was a most +striking figure. As for Newcastle himself, I always found him a most +simple, warm-hearted, generous man, full of delicate and kindly +feelings. He had big stables and raced his horses all<a name="page_189" id="page_189"></a> the time, but +it was said of him that he generally lost at the races and one might +almost know that he would. He was a sort of "mark" for the racing sharks +and they plucked him in a shameless manner. I first met the Newcastles +at the dinner table of the Dowager Duchess of Somerset, and more than +once afterwards has Newcastle whispered to her "hang etiquette" and +taken me in to dinner instead of some frumpy marchioness or countess.</p> + +<p>We became acquainted with the Tennants of Richmond Terrace. Their house +was headquarters for an association of Esoteric Buddhism;—A. P. +Sinnett, the author of the book entitled <i>Esoteric Buddhism</i>, was a +prominent figure there. The family is perhaps best known from the fact +that Miss Tennant married the celebrated explorer Stanley. But to me it +always stood for the centre of occult societies. The household was an +interesting one but not particularly peaceful.</p> + +<p>I suppose the world is full of queer people and situations, but I do +think that among the queerest of both must be ranked Lord Dudley, who +owned Her Majesty's Theatre. He lived in Park Lane and was a very grand +person in all ways, and, according to hearsay, firmly believed that he +was a teapot, and spent his days in the miserable hope that somebody +would be kind enough to put him on the stove! He did not go about +begging for the stove exactly; his desire was just an ever-present, +underlying yearning! He was a nice man, too, as I remember him. A man by +the name of Cowen represented the poor peer and we gave Cowen his +legitimate perquisites in the shape of benefit concerts and so forth; +but we all felt that the whole thing was in some obscure manner terribly +grim and pathetic. Many things are so oddly both comic and tragic.<a name="page_190" id="page_190"></a></p> + +<p>During the warm weather we went often into the country to dine or lunch +at country houses. I shall never forget Mr. Goddard's dinner at his +place. He had a glass house at the end of the regular house that was +half buried in a huge heliotrope plant which had grown so marvellously +that it covered the walls like a vine. The trunk of it was as thick as a +man's arm, and the perfume—! My mother wrote in her diary a single line +summing up the day as it had been for her: "Lovely day. Strawberries and +two black-eyed children." For my part, I gathered all the heliotrope I +wanted for once in my life.</p> + +<p>Mr. Sampson's entertainment is another notable memory. Mr. Sampson was +financial editor of that august journal <i>The London Times</i>, much sought +after by the large moneyed interests, and lived in Bushy Park, beyond +Kensington. Mrs. Heurtly was our hostess; and Lang, who had just been +running for Prime Minister, was there and, also, McKenzie, an East +Indian importer in a big way who afterwards became Sir Edward McKenzie, +through loaning to the Prince of Wales the money for the trousseau and +marriage of the Prince of Wales's daughter Louise to the Duke of Fife, +and who then was not invited to the wedding! It was through Sampson, +too, that I first met the famous critic Davidson, and I think it was on +the occasion of his party that I first met Nilsson's great friend Mrs. +Cavendish Bentinck.</p> + +<p>Among all the memories of that time stands out that of the home of the +dear McHenrys in Holland Park, overlooking the great sweep of lawn of +Holland House on which, it is said, the plotters of an elder day went +out to talk and conspire because it was the only place in London where +they could be sure that they would<a name="page_191" id="page_191"></a> not be overheard. Alma Tadema lived +just around the corner and we often saw him. Another interesting +character of whom I saw a good deal at that time was Dr. Quinn, an +Irishman, connected through a morganatic marriage with the royal family. +He was very short and jolly, and very Irish. He had asthma horribly and +ought really to have considered himself an invalid. He gasped and +wheezed whenever he went upstairs, but he simply couldn't resist dinner +parties. He loved funny stories, too, not only for his own sake but also +because his friend, the Prince of Wales, liked them so much. My mother +was very ready in wit and usually had a fund of stories and jokes at her +command, and Dr. Quinn used to exhaust her supply, taking the greatest +delight in hearing her talk. He would come panting into the house, his +round face beaming, and gasp:</p> + +<p>"Any new American jokes? I'm dining with the Prince and want something +new for him!"</p> + +<p>He loved riddles and conundrums, particularly those that had a poetical +twist in them. One of his favourites was:</p> + +<table border="0" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" summary="poetry"> +<tr><td align="left"><span style="margin-left: 0em;"><i>Why is a sword like the moon?</i></span></td></tr> +<tr><td align="left"><span style="margin-left: 0em;"><i>Because it is the glory of the (k)night!</i></span></td></tr> +</table> + +<p>I have heard him tell that repeatedly, always ending with a little +appreciative sigh and the ejaculation, "that is so poetical, isn't it?"</p> + +<p>One lovely evening we drove out to Greenwich to dinner, in Newcastle's +four-in-hand coach. It was not the new style drag, but a huge, lumbering +affair, all open, in which one sat sideways. There were postillions in +quaint dress and a general flavour of the Middle Ages about the whole +episode. There was nothing of<a name="page_192" id="page_192"></a> the Middle Ages about the dinner however. +There were twenty-five of us present in all; among the number Lady Susan +Vane-Tempest, a beautiful woman with most brilliant black hair, and +Major Stackpoole, and dear Lady Rossmore, his wife (who was so impulsive +that I have seen her jump up in her box to throw me the flowers she was +wearing), and some of the Hopes (Newcastle's own family), that race that +always behaves so badly! A little later in the season, my mother and I +accepted with delight an invitation from the Duke and Duchess of +Newcastle to visit them at their place in Brighton. The Duke naively +explained that he had been having "a run of rotten luck" of late, and +thought that I might turn it. Apparently I did, for the very day after +we got there his horse won in the races.</p> + +<p>I sang, of course, in the evening, as their guest. There was no thought +of remuneration, nor could there be. The graceful way in which our dear +host showed his appreciation was to send me a pin, beautifully executed, +of a horse and jockey done in enamel, enclosed in a circle of perfect +crystal, the whole surrounded with a rim of superb diamonds and +amethysts—purple and white being his racing colours. The brooch was +inscribed simply with the date on which his horse ran and won.</p> + +<p>I wore that pin for years. When I had it cleaned at Tiffany's a long +time afterwards, it made quite a sensation, it was so unique. Once, I +remember, I was in the studio dwelling on Fifteenth Street of the +Richard Watson Gilders when I discovered that, having dressed in a +hurry, I had put my pin in upside-down. I started to change it, and then +said:</p> + +<p>"O, what's the use. Nobody will ever notice it. They are all too +literary and superior around here!"<a name="page_193" id="page_193"></a></p> + +<p>The first man Mrs. Gilder presented to me was evidently quite too much +interested in the pin to talk to me.</p> + +<p>"Excuse me," he at last said politely, "but you will like to know, I +feel sure, that your brooch is upside-down."</p> + +<p>"O, is it," said I sweetly. But I did not take the trouble to change it +even then, and, afterwards, I would not have done so for worlds, for I +should have been cheated out of a great deal of quiet amusement. One of +the contributors to <i>The Century</i> was later presented to me, and the +effect of that pin upside-down was more irritating than it had been to +the first man. He almost stood on his head trying to discover what was +the trouble. At last:</p> + +<p>"You've got your pin upside-down," he snapped at me as though a personal +affront had been offered him.</p> + +<p>"I know I have," I snapped back.</p> + +<p>"What do you wear it that way for?" he demanded.</p> + +<p>"To make conversation!" I returned, nearly as cross as he was.</p> + +<p>"I don't see it," he said curtly. As a matter of fact I had just +realised that upside-down was the way to wear the pin henceforward. I +said to Jeannette Gilder the next day:</p> + +<p>"My upside-down pin was the hit of the evening. I am never going to wear +it any other way!"</p> + +<p>I have kept my word during all these years. Never have I worn +Newcastle's pin except upside-down, and I have never known anyone to +whom I was talking to fail to fall into the trap and beg my pardon and +say, "you have your brooch on upside-down." Years later I was once +talking to Annie Louise Gary in Rome and a perfectly strange man came up +and began timidly:<a name="page_194" id="page_194"></a></p> + +<p>"I beg your pardon, but your——"</p> + +<p>"I know," I told him kindly. "My pin is upside-down, isn't it?"</p> + +<p>He retreated, thinking me mad, I suppose. But the fun of it has been +worth some such reputation. Different people approach the subject so +differently. Some are so apologetic and some are so helpful and some, +like my <i>Century</i> acquaintance, are so immensely and disproportionately +annoyed.</p> + +<p>But I am wandering far afield and quite forgetting my first London +season which, even at this remote day, is an absorbing recollection to +me. I had at that time enough youthful enthusiasm and desire to "keep +going" to have stocked a regiment of débutantes! Although I was quite as +carefully chaperoned and looked out for in England as I had been in +America, there was still an unusual sense of novelty and excitement +about the days there. I had all of my clothes from Paris and learned +that, as Sir Michael Costa had insultingly informed me, I was "quite a +pretty woman anyhow." Add to this the generous praise that the London +public gave me professionally, and is it to be considered a wonder that +I felt as if all were a delightful fairy tale with me as the princess?</p> + +<p>As my mother has noted in her diary, we went one evening to Covent +Garden to hear Patti sing. One really charming memory of Patti is her +Juliette. She was never at all resourceful as an actress and was never +able to stamp any part with the least creative individuality; but her +singing of that music was perfect. Maurice Strakosch came into our box +to present to us Baron Alfred de Rothschild who became one of the +English friends whom we never forgot and who never forgot us. Maddox, +too, called on us in the box that<a name="page_195" id="page_195"></a> evening. He was the editor of a +little journal that was the rival of the <i>Court Circular</i>. Maddox I saw +a good deal of later and found him very original and entertaining. He +ordered champagne that night, so we had quite a little party in our box +between the acts.</p> + +<p>As my mother has also noted, I went to Covent Garden to hear Mario for +the first time. Fioretti was the <i>prima donna</i>, said to be the best type +of the Italian school. Altogether the occasion was expected to be a +memorable one and I was full of expectations. Davidson, the critic of +<i>The London Times</i> and the foremost musical critic on the Continent, +except possibly Dr. Hanslick of Vienna, was full of enthusiasm. But I +did not think much of Fioretti nor, even, of Mario! Yes, Mario the +great, Mario the golden-voiced, Mario who could "soothe with a tenor +note the souls in Purgatory" was a bitter disappointment to me. I was +too inexperienced still to appreciate the art he exhibited, and his +voice was but a ghost of his past glory. Yet England adored him with her +wonderful loyalty to old idols.</p> + +<p>Several distinguished artists and musicians came into our box that +night, Randegger the singing teacher for one, and my good friend Sir +George Armitage. Sir George was breathless with enthusiasm.</p> + +<p>"There is no one like Mario!" he exclaimed, rubbing his hands with +delight.</p> + +<p>"This is the first time I ever heard him," I said.</p> + +<p>"Ah, what an experience!" he cried.</p> + +<p>"I should never have suspected he was the great tenor," I had to admit.</p> + +<p>"Oh, my dear young lady," said Sir George eagerly, "that 'la' in the +second act! Did you hear that 'la' in the second act? There was the old +Mario!"<a name="page_196" id="page_196"></a></p> + +<p>His devotion was so touching that I forebore to remind him that if one +swallow does not make a summer, so one "la" does not make a singer. When +poor Mario came over to America later he was a dire failure. He could +not hold his own at all. He could not produce even his "la" by that +time. Like Nilsson, however, he greatly improved dramatically after his +vocal resonances were impaired, for I have been told that when in +possession of his full voice he was very stiff and unsympathetic in his +acting.</p> + +<p>Sir George Armitage, by the way, was a somewhat remarkable individual, a +typical, well-bred Englishman of about sixty, with artistic tastes. He +was a perfect example of the dilettante of the leisure class, with +plenty of time and money to gratify any vagrant whim. His particular +hobby was the opera; and he divided his attentions equally between +Covent Garden with Adelina and Lucca, and Her Majesty's with Nilsson, +Titjiens, and Kellogg. When operas that he liked were being given at +both opera houses, he would make a schedule of the different numbers and +scenes with the hours at which they were to be sung:—9.20 (Covent +Garden), <i>Aria</i> by Madame Patti. 10 o'clock (Her Majesty's), Duet in +second act between Miss Nilsson and Miss Kellogg. 10.30, Sextette at +Covent Garden, etc., etc. He kept his brougham and horses ready and +would drive back and forth the whole evening, reaching each opera house +just in time to hear the music he particularly cared for. He had seats +in each house and nothing else in the world to do, so it was quite a +simple matter with him, only,—who but an Englishman of the hereditary +class of idleness would think of such a way of spending the evening? He +was a dear old fellow and we all liked him. He really did not know much<a name="page_197" id="page_197"></a> +about music, but he had a sincere fondness for it and dearly loved to +come behind the scenes and offer suggestions to the artists. We always +listened to him patiently, for it gave him great pleasure, and we never +had to do any of the things he suggested because he forgot all about +them before the next time.</p> + +<p>My mother's diary reads:</p> + +<div class="blockquot"><p><i>June 13.</i> Last night <i>Nozze di Figaro</i>. Mr. and Mrs. McHenry sent +five bouquets. Splendid performance.</p> + +<p><i>15.</i> Dined at Duchess of Somerset's.</p> + +<p><i>16.</i> Dined with Mr. and Mrs. McHenry. Stebbins—Vanderbilts.</p> + +<p><i>18.</i> <i>Don Giovanni.</i> Checks from Mr. Cowen. Banker came to see us. +Duke of Newcastle—Sir George Armitage.</p> + +<p><i>20.</i> Benedict's Morning Concert, St. James' Hall. <i>Encore</i> +"Beware"—<i>Don Giovanni</i> in the evening.</p> + +<p><i>21. Sunday.</i> Dined with Duke and Duchess of Newcastle. Major +Stackpoole, Lady Susan Vane-Tempest and others. Rehearsed <i>La +Figula</i>.</p> + +<p><i>Monday.</i> Rehearsal of <i>La Figula</i>. In the evening went to hear +Patti. Didn't like Patti. Received letter from Colonel Stebbins +from Queenstown.</p> + +<p><i>Tuesday.</i> Rehearsed <i>La Figula</i>. Called at Langham on Godwin—all +came out in the evening.</p> + +<p><i>Wednesday 24.</i> Morning performance of <i>Le Nozze</i>—got home at 6. +<span class="smcap">P.M.</span> Charity concert for Mr. Cowen at 8.30 at Dudley House.</p> + +<p><i>Thursday.</i> Rehearsal of <i>La Figula</i>. Concert in the evening at +Lady Fitzgerald's.</p> + +<p><i>Monday.</i> Louise and I went to drive. Do not learn anything +definite about the future—where I am to be next winter—no one +knows. I do not see any settled home for me any more. Sometimes I +am satisfied to have it so—at others—get nervous and uneasy and +discontented. Yet I have lost interest in going home—it will be so +short a visit—so soon a separation—then to some other stranger +place—<a name="page_198" id="page_198"></a>new friends—new faces—I want the old. The surface of life +does not interest me.</p> + +<p><i>Tuesday.</i> Dined at Langs'—large party.</p> + +<p><i>Wednesday 15.</i> Went to Crystal Palace—Mapleson's Benefit. The +whole performance closed with the most magnificent display of +Fireworks I ever saw—most marvellous.</p> + +<p><i>16.</i> <i>Don Giovanni</i>—full house—great success in the +part—Duchess and Lady Rossmore threw splendid bouquets—house very +enthusiastic—papers fine—Mrs. McHenry and Mr. Sampson came +down—Duke of Newcastle and Major Stackpoole—Miss Jarrett.</p> + +<p><i>Monday. Le Nozze di Figaro.</i></p> + +<p><i>Tuesday. La Figula.</i></p> + +<p><i>Thursday.</i> Went to theatre. Saw Nilsson and all the artists. Went +to hear Patti in <i>Romeo and Juliette</i>—Strakosch gave us the box. +Strakosch introduced Rothschilds.</p> + +<p><i>Friday.</i> <i>Le Nozze di Figaro.</i> Baron Rothschilds, Sir George +Armitage came around.</p> + +<p><i>Saturday.</i> Sir George breakfasted with Louise. Rothschilds +called—letter from Mr. Stebbins.</p> + +<p><i>Sunday morning.</i> Dr. Kellogg of Utica called—spent several hours. +Santley called—and McHenry in the evening.</p></div> + +<p>I was greatly shocked by the heavy drinking in the 'sixties that was not +only the fashion but almost the requirement of fashion in England. My +horror when I first saw a titled and distinguished Englishwoman in the +opera box of the Earl of Harrington (our friend of the charming luncheon +party), call an attendant and order a brandy and soda will never be +forgotten. It was the general custom to serve refreshments in the boxes +at the opera, and bottles and glasses of all sorts passed in and out of +these private "loges" the entire evening. Indeed, people never dreamed +of drinking<a name="page_199" id="page_199"></a> water, although they drank their wines "like water" +proverbially. Such prejudice as mine has two sides, as I realise when I +think of the landlady of our apartment which we rented during a later +London season in Belgrave Mansions. When singing, I had to have a late +supper prepared for me—something very light and simple and nourishing. +Our good landlady used to be shocked almost to the verge of tears by my +iniquitous habit of drinking water <i>pur-et-simple</i> with my suppers.</p> + +<p>"Oh, miss," she would beg, "let me put a bit of sherry or <i>something</i> in +it for you! It'll hurt you that way, Miss! It'll make you ill, that it +will!"<a name="page_200" id="page_200"></a></p> + +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XIX" id="CHAPTER_XIX"></a>CHAPTER XIX<br /><br /> +HOME AGAIN</h2> + +<p class="nind"><span class="letra">M</span>APLESON asked me to stay on the other side and sing in England, +Ireland, and France at practically my own terms, but I refused to do so. +I had made my English success and now I wanted to go home in triumph. My +mother agreed with me that it was time to be turning homeward. So I +accepted an engagement to sing under the management of the Strakosches, +Max and Maurice, on a long concert tour.</p> + +<p>I have only gratitude for the manner in which my own people welcomed my +return. The critics found me much improved, and one and all gave me +credit for hard and unremitting work. "Here is a young singer," said +one, "who has steadily worked her way to the highest position in +operatic art." That point of view always pleased me; for I contend now, +as I have contended since I first began to sing, that, next to having a +voice in the first place, the great essential is to work; and then +<i>work</i>; and, after that, begin to WORK!</p> + +<p>New York as a city did not please me when I saw it again. I had +forgotten, or never fully realised, how provincial it was. Even to-day I +firmly believe that it is undoubtedly the dirtiest city in the world, +that its traffic regulation is the worst, and its cab service the most +expensive and inconvenient. All this struck me with particular force +when I came home fresh from London and Paris.<a name="page_201" id="page_201"></a></p> + +<p>My contract with the Strakosches was for twenty-five weeks, four +appearances a week, making a hundred performances in all. This tour was +only broken by a short engagement under my old director Maretzek at the +Academy of Music in Philadelphia, an arrangement made for me by Max +Strakosch when we reached that city in the spring; and, with the +exception of <i>Robert le Diable</i>, <i>Trovatore</i>, and one or two other +operas, I spent the next three years singing in concert and oratorio +entirely. It was not enjoyable, but it was successful. We went all over +the country, North, South, East, West, and everywhere found an +enthusiastic public. Particularly was this so in the South as far as I +personally was concerned. The poor South had not yet recovered from the +effects of the Civil War and did not have much money to spend on +amusements, but, when at Richmond the people learned that I was Southern +born, more than one woman said to me:</p> + +<p>"Go? To hear you! Yes, indeed; we'll hang up all we have to go and hear +you!"</p> + +<p>One of my popular fellow-artists on the first tour was James M. Wehli, +the English pianist. He was known as the "left-handed pianist" and was +in reality better suited to a vaudeville stage than to a concert +platform. His particular accomplishment consisted in playing a great +number of pieces brilliantly with his left hand only, a feat remarkable +enough in itself but not precisely an essential for a great artist, and, +even as a pianist, he was not inspired.</p> + +<p>My first appearance after my European experience was in a concert at the +Academy of Music in New York. It was a real welcome home. People cheered +and waved and threw flowers and clapped until I was literally in tears. +I felt that it did not matter in the<a name="page_202" id="page_202"></a> least whether New York was a real +city or not; America was a real country! When the concert was over, the +men from the Lotus Club took the horses out of my carriage and dragged +it, with me in it, to my hotel. And oh, my flowers! My American title of +"The Flower <i>Prima Donna</i>" was soon reestablished beyond all +peradventure. Flowers in those days were much rarer than they are now; +and I received, literally, loads and loads of camellias, and roses +enough to set up many florist shops. Without exaggeration, I sent those +I received by <i>cartloads</i> to the hospitals. And one "floral offering" +that I received in Boston was actually too large for any waggon. A +subscription had been raised and a pagoda of flowers sent. I had to hire +a dray to carry it to my hotel; and then it could not be got up the +stairs but had to spend the night downstairs. In the morning I had the +monstrous thing photographed and sent it off to a hospital. Even this +was an undertaking as I could not, for some reason, get the dray of the +night before; and had to hire several able-bodied men to carry it. I +hope it was a comfort to somebody before it faded! It is a pity that +this tribute on the part of Boston did not assume a more permanent form, +for I should have much appreciated a more lasting token as a remembrance +of the occasion. It must not be thought that I was unappreciative +because I say this. I love anything and everything that blooms, and I +love the spirit that offers me flowers. But I must say that the pagoda +was something of a white elephant.</p> + +<p>While thinking of Boston and my first season at home, I must not omit +mention of Mrs. Martin. Indeed, it will have to be rather more than a +mere mention, for it is quite a little story, beginning indirectly<a name="page_203" id="page_203"></a> with +Wright Sandford. Wright Sandford was the only man in New York with a big +independent fortune, except "Willie" Douglass who spent most of his time +cruising in foreign waters. Wright Sandford was more of a friend of mine +than "Willie" Douglass, and I used to haul him over the coals +occasionally for his lazy existence. He had eighty thousand a year and +absolutely nothing to do but to amuse himself.</p> + +<p>"What do you expect me to do?" he would demand plaintively. "I've no one +to play with!"</p> + +<p>Whenever I was starting on a tour he would send me wonderful hampers put +up by Delmonico, with the most delicious things to eat imaginable in +them, so that my mother and I never suffered, at least for the first day +or two, from the inconveniences of the bad food usually experienced by +travellers. A very nice fellow was Wright Sandford in many ways, and to +this day I am appreciative of the Delmonico luncheons if of nothing +else.</p> + +<p>When we were <i>en route</i> for Boston on that first tour,—a long trip +then, eight or nine hours at least by the fast trains—there sat close +to us in the car a little woman who watched me all the time and smiled +whenever I glanced at her. I noticed that she had no luncheon with her, +so when we opened our Delmonico hamper, I leaned across and asked her to +join us. I do not exactly know why I did it for I was not in the habit +of making friends with our fellow-travellers; but the little person +appealed to me somehow in addition to her being lunchless. She was the +most pleased creature imaginable! She nibbled a little, smiled, spoke +hardly a word, and after lunch I forgot all about her.</p> + +<p>In Boston, as I was in my room in the hotel practising,<a name="page_204" id="page_204"></a> before going to +the theatre, there came a faint rap on the door. I called out "Come in," +yet nobody came. I began to practise again and again came a little rap. +"Come in," I called a second time, yet still nothing happened. After a +third rap I went and opened the door. In the dark hall stood a woman. I +did not remember ever having seen her before; but I could hardly +distinguish her features in the passage.</p> + +<p>"I've come," said she in a soft, small voice, "to ask you if you would +please kiss me?"</p> + +<p>Of course I complied. Needless to say, I thought her quite crazy. After +I had kissed her cheek she nodded and vanished into the darkness while +I, much mystified, went back to my singing. That night at the theatre I +saw a small person sitting in the front row, smiling up at me. Her face +this time was somewhat familiar and I said to myself, "I do believe +that's the little woman who had lunch with us on the train!" and +then—"I wonder—<i>could</i> it also be the crazy woman who wanted me to +kiss her?"</p> + +<p>During our week's engagement in Boston we were confronted with a +dilemma. Max Strakosch came to me much upset.</p> + +<p>"What are we going to do in Providence—the only decent hotel in the +town has burned down," he said. "You'll have to stop with friends."</p> + +<p>"I haven't any friends in Providence," I replied.</p> + +<p>"Well, you'll have to get some," he declared. "There's no hotel where +you could possibly stay and we can't cancel your engagement. The houses +are sold out."</p> + +<p>Presently a cousin of mine, acting as my agent on these trips, came and +told me that a man had called on him at the theatre whose wife wished to +"entertain" Miss Kellogg while she was in Providence!<a name="page_205" id="page_205"></a></p> + +<p>The idea appalled me and I flatly refused to accept this extraordinary +invitation; but those two men simply forced me into it. Strakosch, +indeed, regarded the incident as a clear dispensation from heaven. +"Nothing could be more fortunate," he said, "never mind who they are, +you go and stay with them anyway. You've wonderful business waiting for +you in Providence."</p> + +<p>Well—I went. Yet I felt very guilty about accepting a hospitality that +would have to be stretched so far. It was no joke to have me for a +guest. I knew well that we would be a burden on any household, +especially if it were a modest one. When I was singing I had to have +dinner at half-past four at the latest; I could not be disturbed by +anything in the morning and, besides, it meant three beds—for mother, +myself, and maid. In Providence we arrived at a tiny house at the door +of which I was met by the little woman of the train who was, as I had +surmised, the same one who had wanted me to kiss her. Supper was served +immediately. Everything was immaculate and dainty and delicious. Our +hostess had remembered some of the contents of the Delmonico hamper that +I had especially liked and had cooked them herself, perfectly.</p> + +<p>She made me promise never to stay anywhere else than with her when I was +in Providence and I never have. In all, throughout the many years that +have intervened between then and now, I must have visited her more than +twenty times. During this period I have been privileged to watch the +most extraordinary development that could be imagined by any +psychologist. When I first stopped with her there was not a book in the +house. While everything was exquisitely clean and well kept, it was +absolutely primitive. On my<a name="page_206" id="page_206"></a> second visit I found linen sheets upon the +beds and the soap and perfume that I liked were ready for me on the +dressing-table. She studied my "ways" and every time I came back there +was some new and flattering indication of the fact. Have I mentioned her +name? It was Martin, Mrs. Martin, and her husband was conductor on what +was called the "Millionaire's Train" that ran between Boston and +Providence. I saw very little of him, but he was a nice, shy man, much +respected in his business connection. He was "Hezzy" and she was +"Lizy"—short for Hezekiah and Eliza. They were a genuinely devoted +couple in their quiet way although he always stood a trifle in awe of +his wife's friends. She was about ten years older than I and had a +really marvellous gift for growing and improving. After a while they +left the first house and moved into one a little larger and much more +comfortable. They had a library and she began to gather a small circle +of musical friends about her. Her knowledge of music was oddly +photographic. She would bring me a sheet of music and say:</p> + +<p>"Please play this part—here; this is the nice part!" But she was, and +is, a fine critic. Some big singers are glad to have her approval. As in +music so it was with books—the little woman's taste was instinctive but +unerring. She has often brought me a book of poetry, pointed out the +best thing in it, and said in her soft way:</p> + +<p>"Don't you think this is nice? I <i>do</i> think it is <i>so</i> nice! It's a +lovely poem."</p> + +<p>There was a young telegraph operator in Providence who had a voice. His +name was Jules Jordan. Mrs. Martin took him into her house and +practically brought him up. He, too, began to grow and develop and is +now the head of the Arion Society, the big musical<a name="page_207" id="page_207"></a> association of +Providence that has some of the biggest singers in the country in its +concerts. Mrs. Martin entertains Jules Jordan's artistic friends and +goes to the concert rehearsals and says whether they are good or not. +She knows, too. "I am called the 'Singers'' friend," she said to me not +very long ago. She criticises the orchestra and chorus as well as the +solos, and she is right every time. I consider her one of the finest +critics I know. As for the professional critics, she is acquainted with +them all and they have a very genuine respect for her judgment. She is +the sort of person who is called "queer." Most real characters are. If +she does not like one, the recipient of her opinion is usually fully +aware of what that opinion is. She has no social idea at all, nor any +toleration for it. This constitutes one point in which her development +is so remarkable. Most women who "make themselves" acquire, first of +all, the social graces and veneer, the artificiality in surface matters +that will enable them to pass muster in the "great world." She has +allowed her evolution to go along different lines. She has really grown, +not in accomplishments but in accomplishment; not in manners but in grey +matter. Indeed, I hardly know how to find words with which to speak of +Mrs. Martin for I think her such a wonderful person; I respect and care +for her so much that I find myself dumb when I try to pay her a tribute. +If I have dared to speak of her humble beginnings in the first little +house it is because it seems to me that only so can I really do her +justice as she is to-day. She is a living monument of what a woman can +do with herself unaided, save by the force and the aspiration that is in +her. Meeting her was one of the most valuable incidents that happened to +me in the year of my home-coming.<a name="page_208" id="page_208"></a></p> + +<p>It seems as if I spent most of my time in those days being photographed. +Likenesses were stiff and unnatural; and I am inclined to believe that +the picture of me that has always been the best known—the one leaning +on my hand—marked a new epoch in photography. I had been posing a great +deal the day that was taken and was dead tired. There had been much +arranging; many attempts to obtain "artistic effects." Finally, I went +off into a corner and sat down, leaning my head on my hand, while the +photographer put new plates in his camera. Suddenly he happened to look +in my direction and exclaimed:</p> + +<p>"By Jove—if I could only—I'm going to try it anyway!" Then he shouted, +"Don't move, please!" and took me just as I was. He was very doubtful as +to the result for it was a new departure in photography; but the attempt +was very successful, and other photographers began to try for the same +natural and easy effect. Another time I happened to have a handkerchief +in my lap that threw a white reflection on my face, and the photographer +discovered from it the value of large light-coloured surfaces to deflect +the light where it was needed. This, too, I consider, was an unconscious +factor in the introduction of natural effects into photography. I never, +however, took a satisfactory picture. People who depend on expression +and animation for their looks never do. My likenesses never looked the +way I really did—except, perhaps, one that a photographer once caught +while I was talking about Duse, explaining how much more I admired her +than I did Bernhardt.</p> + +<p>In those concert and oratorio years I remember very few pleasurable +appearances: but unquestionably one of the few was on June 15th, when +the Beethoven<a name="page_209" id="page_209"></a> Jubilee was held and I was asked to sing as alternative +<i>prima donna</i> with Parepa Rosa. Although I had done well in the Crystal +Palace, I was not a singer who was generally supposed nor expected to +fill so large a place as the American Institute Colosseum on Third +Avenue, and many people prophesied that I could not be satisfactorily +heard there. I asked my friends to go to different parts of the house +and to tell me if my voice sounded well. Even some of my friends out in +front, though, did not expect to hear me to advantage. But, contrary to +what we all feared, my voice proved to have a carrying quality that had +never before been adequately recognised. The affair was a great success. +Parepa Rosa did not, as a matter of fact, have quite so big a voice as +she was usually credited with having. She had power only to <i>G</i>. Above +the staff it was a mixed voice. She could diminish to an exquisite +quality, but she could not reinforce with any particular volume or +vibration.</p> + +<p>There was another occasion that I remember with a deep sense of its +impressiveness:—that of the funeral of Horace Greeley, at which I sang. +I knew Horace Greeley personally and recall many interesting things +about him; but, naturally perhaps, what stands out in my memory is the +fact that, a few days before he died, he came to hear me sing Handel's +<i>Messiah</i>, being, as he said afterwards, particularly touched and +impressed by my rendering of <i>I know that my Redeemer liveth</i>. When he +came to die, the last words that he said were those, whispered faintly, +as if they still echoed in his heart. It may have been because of this +fact that it was I who was asked to sing at his funeral.</p> + +<p>On my return from abroad I was, of course, wearing only foreign clothes +and, as a consequence, found<a name="page_210" id="page_210"></a> myself the embarrassed centre of much +curiosity. American women were still children in the art of dressing. At +one time I was probably the only woman in America who wore silk +stockings and long gloves. People could not accustom themselves to my +Parisian fashions. In Saratoga one dear man, whom I knew very well, came +to me much distressed and whispered that my dress was fastened crooked. +I had the greatest difficulty in convincing him that it was made that +way and that the crookedness was the latest French touch. A recent +fashion was that humped-up effect that gave the wearer the attitude then +known and reviled as the "Grecian Bend." It was made famous by +caricatures and jokes in the funny papers of the time, but I, being a +new-comer so to speak, was not aware of its newspaper notoriety. +Conceive my injured feelings when the small boys in the street ran after +me in gangs shouting "Grecian Bend! Grecian Bend!"</p> + +<p>Another point that hurt the delicate sensibilities of the concert-going +American public was the fact that at evening concerts I wore low-necked +gowns. On the other side the custom of wearing a dress that was cut down +for any and every appearance after dark, was invariable, and it took me +some time to grasp the cause of the sensation with my modestly +<i>décolleté</i> frocks. People, further, found my ease effrontery, and my +carriage, acquired after years of effort, "putting on airs." In spite of +the cordiality of my welcome home, therefore, I had many critics who +were not particularly kind. Although one woman did write, "who ever saw +more simplicity on the stage?" there were plenty of the others who said, +"Clara Louise Kellogg has become 'stuck up' during her sojourn abroad." +As for my innocent desire to be properly and becomingly clothed,<a name="page_211" id="page_211"></a> it +gave rise to comments that were intended to be quite scathing, if I had +only taken sufficient notice of them to think of them ten minutes after +they had reached my ears. That year there was put on the millinery +market a "Clara Louise" bonnet, by the way, that was supposed to be a +great compliment to me, but that I am afraid I would not have been seen +wearing at any price!</p> + +<p>In this connection one champion arose in my defence, however, whose +efforts on my behalf must not be overlooked. He was an Ohio journalist, +and his love of justice was far greater than his knowledge of the French +language. Seeing in some review that Miss Kellogg had "a larger +<i>répertoire</i> than any living <i>prima donna</i>," this chivalrous writer +rushed into print as follows:</p> + +<div class="blockquot"><p>We do not of course know how Miss Kellogg was dressed in other +cities, but upon the occasion of her last performance here we are +positively certain that her <i>répertoire</i> did not seem to extend out +so far as either Nilsson's or Patti's. It may have been that her +overskirt was cut too narrow to permit of its being gathered into +such a lump behind, or it may have been that it had been crushed +down accidentally, but the fact remains that both of Miss Kellogg's +rivals wore <i>répertoires</i> of a much more extravagant size—very +much to their discredit, we think ...</p></div> + +<p><a name="page_212" id="page_212"></a></p> + +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XX" id="CHAPTER_XX"></a>CHAPTER XX<br /><br /> +"YOUR SINCERE ADMIRER"</h2> + +<p class="nind"><span class="letra">A</span> man whose name I never learned dropped a big, fragrant bunch of +violets at my feet each night for weeks. Becoming discouraged after a +while because I did not seek him out in his gallery seat, he sent me a +note begging for a glance and adding, for identification, this +illuminating point: "<i>You'll know me by my boots hanging over!</i>"</p> + +<p>Who could disregard such an appeal? That night my eyes searched the +balconies feverishly. He had not vainly raised my hopes; his boots +<i>were</i> hanging over, large boots, that looked as if they had seen +considerable service. I sang my best to those boots and—dear man!—the +violets fell as sweetly as before. I have conjured up a charming +portrait of this individual, with a soul high enough to love music and +violets and simple enough not to be ashamed of his boots. Would that all +"sincere admirers" might be of such an ingenuous and engaging a pattern.</p> + +<p>The variety of "admirers" that are the lot of a person on the stage is +extraordinary. It is very difficult for the stage persons themselves to +understand it. It has never seemed to me that actors as a class are +particularly interesting. Personally I have always been too cognisant of +the personalities behind the scenes to ever have any theatrical idols; +but to a great many there is something absolutely fascinating about<a name="page_213" id="page_213"></a> the +stage and stage folk. The actor appears to the audience in a perpetual, +hazy, calcium glory. We are, one and all, children with an inherent love +for fairy tales and it is probably this love which is in a great measure +accountable for the blind adoration received by most stage people.</p> + +<p>I have received, I imagine, the usual number of letters from "your +sincere admirer," some of them funny and some of them rather pathetic. +Very few of them were really impertinent or offensive. In nearly all was +to be found the same touching devotion to an abstract ideal for which, +for the moment, I chanced to be cast. Once in a while there was some one +who, like a person who signed himself "Faust," insisted that I had "met +his eyes" and "encouraged him from afar." Needless to say I had never in +my life seen him; but he worked himself into quite a fever of resentment +on the subject and wrote me several letters. There was also a man who +wrote me several perfectly respectful, but ardent, love letters to +which, naturally, I did not respond. Then, finally, he bombarded me with +another type of screed of which the following is a specimen:</p> + +<p>"Oh, for Heaven's sake, say something,—if it is only to rate me for my +importunities or to tell me to go about my business! Anything but this +contemptuous silence!"</p> + +<p>But these were exceptions. Most of my "admirers'" letters are gems of +either humour or of sentiment. Among my treasures is an epistle that +begins:</p> + +<div class="blockquot"><p>"Miss Clara Louise Kellogg</p> + +<p>Miss:</p> + +<p>Before to expand my feelings, before to make you known the real +intent of this note, in fine before to<a name="page_214" id="page_214"></a> disclose the secrets of my +heart, I will pray you to pardon my indiscretion (if indiscretion +that can be called) to address you unacquainted," etc.</p></div> + +<p>Isn't this a masterpiece?</p> + +<p>There was also an absurdly conceited man who wrote me one letter a year +for several years, always in the same vein. He was evidently a very +pious youth and had "gotten religion" rather badly, for in every epistle +he broke into exhortation and urged me fervently to become a "real +Christian," painting for me the joys of true religion if I once could +manage to "find it." In one of his later letters—after assuring me that +he had prayed for me night and morning for three years and would +continue to do so—he ended in this impressive manner:</p> + +<div class="blockquot"><p>"...And if, in God's mercy, we are both permitted to walk 'the +Golden Streets,' I shall there seek you out and give you more fully +my reasons for writing you."</p></div> + +<p>Could anything be more entertaining than this naïve fashion of making a +date in Heaven?</p> + +<p>Not all my letters were love letters. Sometimes I would receive a few +words from some woman unknown to me but full of a sweet and +understanding friendliness. Mrs. Elizabeth Tilton, then the centre of +the stage scandal through her friendship with Henry Ward Beecher, wrote +me a charming letter that ended with what struck me as a very pathetic +touch:</p> + +<div class="blockquot"><p>"I am unwilling to be known by you as the defiant, discontented +woman of the age—rather, as an humble helper of those less +fortunate than myself——"</p></div> + +<p>I never knew Mrs. Tilton personally, but have often felt that I should +have liked her. One of the dearest<a name="page_215" id="page_215"></a> communications I ever received was +from a French working girl, a corset maker, I believe. She wrote:</p> + +<div class="blockquot"><p>"I am but a poor little girl, Mademoiselle, a toiler in the sphere +where you reign a queen, but ever since I was a very little child I +have gone to listen to your voice whenever you have deigned to sing +in New York. Those magic tone-flowers, scattering their perfumed +sweetness on the waiting air, made my child heart throb with a +wonderful pulsation...."</p></div> + +<p>One of the favourite jests of the critics was my obduracy in matters of +sentiment. It was said that I would always have emotional limitations +because I had no love affairs like other <i>prime donne</i>. Once, when I +gave some advice to a young girl to "keep your eyes fixed upon your +artistic future," or some such similar phrase, the press had a good deal +of fun at my expense. "That" it was declared, "was exactly what was the +matter with Clara Louise; she kept her eyes fixed upon an artistic +future instead of upon some man who was in love with her!" I was rather +a good shot, very fond of target shooting, and many jokes were also made +on the supposed damage I did. One newspaper man put it rather more +aptly. "Not only in pistol shooting," he said, "but in everything she +aims at, our <i>prima donna</i> is sure to hit the mark."</p> + +<p>My "sincere admirers" were from all parts of the house, but I think I +found the "gallery" ones most sincere and, certainly, the most amusing. +Max Maretzek used to say that he had no manner of use for an artist +unless she could fill the family circle. I am glad to be able to record +that I always could. My singing usually appealed to the people. <i>The +Police Gazette</i> always gave me good notices! I love the family circle.<a name="page_216" id="page_216"></a> +As a rule the appreciation there is greater because of the sacrifices +which they have had to make to buy their seats. When people can go to +hear good music every night, they do not care nearly so much about doing +it.</p> + +<p>I wonder if anybody besides singers get such an extraordinary sense of +contact and connection with members of their audiences? I have sometimes +felt as if thought waves, reaching through the space between, held me +fast to some of those who heard me sing. Who knows what sympathies, what +comprehensions, what exquisite friendships, were blossoming out there in +the dark house like a garden, waiting to be gathered? Letters—not +necessarily love letters—rather, stray messages of appreciation and +understanding—have brought me a similar sense of joy and of safe +intimacy. After the receipt of any such, I have sung with the pleasant +sense that a new friend—yes, friend, not auditor—was listening. I have +suddenly felt at home in the big theatre; and often, very often, have I +looked eagerly over the banked hosts of faces, asking myself wistfully +which were the strangers and which mine own people.</p> + +<p>It was not only in the theatre that I found "admirers." My vacations +were beset with those who wanted to look at and speak to a genuine +<i>prima donna</i> at close range. Indeed, I had frequently to protect myself +from perfectly strange and intrusive people. Often I have gone to +Saratoga during the season. Saratoga was a fashionable resort in those +days and I always had a good audience. One incident that I remember of +Saratoga was a detestable train that invariably came along in the middle +of my performance—the evening train from New York. I always had to stop +whatever I was singing and wait for it to go by. One night I thought I +would cheat it and timed my<a name="page_217" id="page_217"></a> song a little earlier so that I would be +through before the train arrived. It just beat me by a bar; and I could +hear it steaming nearer and nearing as I hurried on. As I came to the +end there was a loud whistle from the locomotive;—but, for once, luck +was on my side, for it was pitched in harmony with my final note! The +coincidence was warmly applauded.</p> + +<p>When on the road I not infrequently practised with my banjo at hotels. +It was more practicable to carry about than a piano and, besides, it was +not always an easy matter to hire a good piano. One time—also in +Saratoga—I was playing that instrument preparatory to beginning my +morning practice, when an old gentleman who had a room on the same +floor, descended to the office in a fine temper. He was a long, slim, +wiry old fellow, with a high, black satin stock about his bony neck, +very few hairs on his little round head, deep sunken eyes, pinched +features, and an extremely nervous manner.</p> + +<p>"See here," he burst out in a cracked voice, as he danced about on the +marble tiling of the office floor, "have you a band of nigger minstrels +in the house, eh! Zounds, sir, there's an infernal banjo tum, tum, +tumming in my ears every morning and I can't sleep. Drat banjoes—I hate +'em. And nigger minstrels—I hate 'em too. You must move me, sir, move +me at once. That banjo'll set me crazy. Move me at once, d'ye hear?—or +I'll leave the house!"</p> + +<p>"Why, sir," said the clerk suavely, "that banjo player is not a nigger +minstrel, at all, sir, but Miss Clara Louise Kellogg, who uses a banjo +to practise with."</p> + +<p>The hard lines in the old fellow's face relaxed, he looked sharply at +the clerk and, leaning over the counter, remarked:<a name="page_218" id="page_218"></a></p> + +<p>"What, Clara Louise Kellogg! W—why, I'll go up and listen! Zounds, man, +she's my particular favourite. She's charmed me with her sweet voice +many a time. D—— n it, give her another banjo! Tell her to play all +day if she wants to! Clara Louise Kellogg, eh? H'm, well, well!"</p> + +<p>He tottered off and, as I observed, after that so long as I stayed left +the door of his room open down the hall so that he could hear my "tum, +tum, tumming."</p> + +<p>A very different, though equally ingenuous tribute to my powers was that +given by an old Indian trapper who, when in Chicago to sell his hides, +went to hear me sing and expressed his emotions to a newspaper man of +that city in approximately the following language:</p> + +<div class="blockquot"><p>I have heard most of the sweet and terrible noises that natives +make. I have heard the thunder among the Hills when the Lord was +knocking against the earth until it passed; and I have heard the +wind in the pines and the waves on the beaches, when the darkness +of night was in the woods, and nature was singing her Evening Song +and there was no bird nor beast the Lord has made, and I have not +heard a voice that would make as sweet a noise as nature makes when +the Spirit of the Universe speaks through the stillness; but that +sweet lady has made sounds to-night sweeter than my ears have heard +on hill or lake shore at noon, or in the night season, and I +certainly believe that the Spirit of the Lord has been with her and +given her the power to make such sweet sounds. A man might like to +have these sweet sounds in his ears when his body lies in his cabin +and his spirit is standing on the edge of the great clearing. I +wish she could sing for me when my eyes grow dim and my feet strike +the trail that no man strikes but once, nor travels both ways.</p></div> + +<p><a name="page_219" id="page_219"></a></p> + +<p>Surely among my friends, if not among my "sincere admirers," I may +include Okakura, who came over here with the late John La Farge as an +envoy from the Japanese Government to study the art of this country as +well as that of Europe. His dream was to found some sort of institution +in Japan for the preservation and development of his country's old, +national ideals in art. His criticisms of Raphael and Titian, by the +way, were something extraordinary. As for music, he had a marvellous +sense for it. La Farge took him to a Thomas Concert and he was vastly +impressed by the music of Beethoven. One might have thought that he had +listened to Occidental classics all his life. But, for that matter, I +know two little Japanese airs that Davidson of London told me might well +have been written by Beethoven himself; so it may be that there is an +obscure bond of sympathy, which our less acute ears would not always +recognise, between our great master and the composers of Okakura's +native land.</p> + +<p>Okakura was only twenty-six when I first met him at Richard Watson +Gilder's studio in New York, but he was already a professor and spoke +perfect English and knew all our best literature. When Munkacsy, the +Hungarian painter, came over, his colleague, Francis Korbay, the +musician, gave him an evening reception, and I took my Japanese friend. +It was a charming evening and Okakura was the success of the reception. +When he started being introduced he was nothing but a professor. Before +he had gone the rounds he had become an Asiatic prince and millionaire. +He had the "grand manner" and wore gorgeous clothes on formal occasions.</p> + +<p>Some years later I called on his wife in Tokio. I considered this was +the polite thing for me to do<a name="page_220" id="page_220"></a> although Okakura himself was in Osaka at +the time. Okakura had an art school in Tokio, kept up with the aid of +the Government, where he was trying to fulfil his old ambition of +preserving the individuality of his own people's work and of driving out +Occidental encroachments. At the school, where we had gone with a guide +who could serve also as interpreter, I asked for Madame. My request to +see her was met with consternation. I was asking a great deal—how much, +I did not realise until afterwards. Before I could enter, I was +requested to take off my shoes. This I considered impossible as I was +wearing high-laced boots. Furthermore, we were having winter weather, +very cold and raw, and nothing was offered me to put on in their place, +as the Japanese custom is at the entrances of the temples. My refusal to +remove my shoes halted proceedings for a while; but, eventually, I was +led around to a side porch where I could sit on a <i>chair</i> (I was amazed +at their having such a thing) and speak with the occupants of the house +as they knelt inside on their heels. The <i>shoji</i>, or bamboo and paper +screen, was pushed back, revealing an interior wonderfully clever in its +simplicity. The furniture consisted of a beautiful brassier and two rare +kakamonos on the wall—nothing more.</p> + +<p>In came Madame Okakura in a grey kimono and bare feet. Down she went on +her knees and saluted me in the prettiest fashion imaginable. We talked +through the interpreter until her daughter entered, who spoke to me in +bad, limited French. The daughter was an unattractive girl, with an +artificially reddened mouth, but I thought the mother charming, like a +most exquisite Parisienne masquerading as a "Japanese Lady."<a name="page_221" id="page_221"></a></p> + +<p>Not long after my visit I saw Okakura himself and told him how much I +had enjoyed seeing his wife. He gave me an annoyed glance and remained +silent. I was nonplussed and somewhat mortified. I could not understand +what could be the trouble, for he acted as if his honour were offended. +In time I learned that the unpardonable breach of good form in Japan was +to mention his wife to a Japanese!</p> + +<p>So graceful, so delicate in both expression and feeling are the letters +that I have received from Okakura, that I cannot resist my inclination +to include them in this chapter,—although, possibly, they are somewhat +too personal. On January 4, 1887, he wrote:</p> + +<div class="blockquot"><p class="nind"><span class="smcap">My dear Miss Kellogg</span>:</p> + +<p>France lies three nights ahead of us. The returning clouds still +seek the western shore and the ocean rolls back my dreams to you. +Your music lives in my soul. I carry away America in your voice; +and what better token can your nation offer? But praises to the +great sound like flattery, and praises to the beautiful sound like +love. To you they must both be tiresome. I shall refrain. You +allude to the Eastern Lights. Alas, the Lamp of Love flickers and +Night is on the plains of Osaka. There are lingering lights on the +crown of the Himalayas, on the edges of the Kowrous, among the +peaks of Hira and Kora. But what do they care for the twilight of +the Valley? They stand like the ocean moon, regardless of the +tempest below. Seek the light in the mansion of your own soul. Are +you not yourself the <i>Spirit Nightingale of the West</i>? Are you not +crying for the moon in union with your Emersons and +Longfellows—with your La Farges and your Gilders? Or am I +mistaken? I enclose my picture and submit the translation of the +few lines on the back to your <i>axe of anger and the benevolence of +your criticism</i> as we say at home. I need a great deal of your +benevolence and deserve more of your<a name="page_222" id="page_222"></a> anger, as the lines sound so +poor in the English. However they do not appear very grand in the +original and so I submit them to your guillotine with a free +conscience. The lines are different from the former, for I forget +them—or care not to repeat.</p> + +<p>Will you kindly convey my best regards to Mrs. Gilder, for I owe so +much to her, to say nothing of your friendship! Will you also +condescend to write to me at your leisure?</p> + +<p class="cb">. . . . . +. . . . . +. . . . . +. . . . . +. . . . .</p> + +<p>(<i>Translation</i>:—One star floats into the ocean of Night. Past the +back of Taurus, away among the Pleiades, whither dost thou go? +Sadly I watch them all. My soul wanders after them into the +infinite. Shall my soul return, or—never?)</p></div> + +<div class="blockquot"><p class="r"><span class="smcap">Vienna</span>, March 4, 1887.</p> + +<p class="nind"><span class="smcap">My dear Miss Kellogg</span>:</p> + +<p>The home of a traveller is in his sweet memories. Under the shadow +of Vesuvius and on the waters of Leman my thoughts were always for +America, which you and your friends have made so pleasant to me. +Pardon me therefore if my pen again turns toward you. How kind of +you to remember me! Your letter reached me here last night and I +regret that I did not stay longer in Paris to receive it sooner. +Will you not favour me by writing again?</p> + +<p>Europe is an enigma—often a source of sadness to me. The forces +that developed her are tearing her asunder. Is it because all +civilisations are destined to have their days and nights of Brahma? +Or was the principle that organised the European nations itself a +false one? Did they grasp the moon in the waters and at last +disturb the image? I know not. I only feel that the Spirit of +Unrest is standing beside me. War is coming and must come, sooner +or later. Conflicting opinions chase each other across the +continent as if the demons fought in the air before the battle of +men began. The policy of maintaining peace by increasing the<a name="page_223" id="page_223"></a> +armies is absurd. It is indeed a sad state of things to make such a +sophism necessary. I am getting tired of this, though there is some +consolation that there are more fools in the world than the +Oriental.</p> + +<p>I have been rather disappointed in the French music. Perhaps I am +too much prejudiced by <i>The Persian Serenade</i> to appreciate +anything else. The acting was artificial and there was no voice +which had anything of the Spirit Nightingale in it. You once told +me that you intended to cross the Atlantic this summer. When? My +dreams are impatient of your arrival. May you come soon and correct +my one-sided impression of Europe!</p> + +<p>I am going to Rome after two or three weeks' stay in this place. +That city interests me deeply, as yet the spiritual centre of the +West, whose voice still influences the politics of Central Europe. +In May I shall be at the Paris Salon and cross over to London in +the early part of June.</p> + +<p>It snows every day in Vienna and I spend my time mostly with the +old doctors of the University. Their talks on philosophy and +science are indeed interesting, but somehow or other I don't feel +the delight I had in your society in New York. Why?</p></div> + +<div class="blockquot"><p class="r">July 12, 1887.</p> + +<p class="nind"><span class="smcap">My dear Miss Kellogg</span>:</p> + +<p>I am very glad to hear that you are in Europe. My duties in London +end this week and I have decided to start for Munich next morning, +thence to Dresden and Berlin. I am thus looking forward to the +great pleasure of meeting you again and gathering fragrance from +your conversation. Mrs. Gilder wrote to me that you were not quite +well since your tour in the West and my anxiety mingles with my +hopes. The atmosphere of English civilisation weighs heavily on me +and I am longing to be away. It seems that civilisation does not +agree with a member of an Eastern barbaric tribe. My conception of +music has<a name="page_224" id="page_224"></a> been gradually changing. The Ninth Symphony has +revolutionised it. Where is the future of music to be?</p> + +<p>Many questions crowd on me and I am impatient to lay them before +you at Carlsbad. Will you allow me to do so?</p></div> + +<div class="blockquot"><p class="r"><span class="smcap">Berlin. Kaiserhauf</span>, July 24th.</p> + +<p class="nind"><span class="smcap">My dear Miss Kellogg</span>:</p> + +<p>The Spirit of Unrest chases me northward. Dresden glided dimly +before me. Holbein was a disappointment. The Sistine Madonna was +divine beyond my expectation. I saw Raphael in his purity and was +delighted. None of his pictures is so inspired as this. Still my +thoughts wandered amid these grand creations. They flitted past in +a shower of colours and shadows and I have drifted hither through +the hazy forests of Heine and the troubled grey of Millet's +twilight....</p> + +<p>To me your friendship is the boat that bears me proudly home. I +wait with pleasure any line you may send me there. Wishing every +good to you, I remain yours respectfully.</p></div> + +<div class="blockquot"><p class="r"><span class="smcap">Kaiserhauf</span>, July 28th, 1887.</p> + +<p class="nind"><span class="smcap">My Dear Miss Kellogg</span>:</p> + +<p>Ten thousand thanks for your kind letter. My address in Japan is +Monbusho, Tokio, and if you will write to me there I shall be so +happy! The task which I have imposed upon myself—the preserving of +historical continuity and internal development, etc.,—has to work +very slowly. I must be patient and cautious. Still I shall be +delighted to confide to you from time to time how I am getting on +with my dream if you will allow me to do so. You say that you have +a hope of finding what you long for in Buddhism. Surely your lotus +must be opening to the dawn. European philosophy has reached to a +point where no advance is possible except through mysticism. Yet +they ignore the hidden truths on limited scientific grounds. The +Berlin University has thus been forced to return to Kant and begin +afresh. They have destroyed but have no power to<a name="page_225" id="page_225"></a> construct, and +they never will if they refuse to <i>see</i> more into themselves....</p> + +<p>Hoping you the best and the brightest, I am</p> + +<p class="r"> +<span style="margin-right: 2em;">Yours faithfully,</span><br /> +<span class="smcap">Okakura Kakudzo</span>.</p> +</div> + +<p>And so I come to one of all these who was really a "sincere admirer," +and a faithful lover, although I never knew him. It is a difficult +incident to write of, for I feel that it holds some of the deepest +elements of sentiment and of tragedy with which I ever came in touch.</p> + +<p>I was singing in Boston when a man sent me a message saying that he was +connected with a newspaper and had something of great importance about +which he wanted to see me. He furthermore said that he wished to see me +alone. It was an extraordinary request and, at first, I refused. I +suspected a subterfuge—a wager, or something humiliating of that sort. +But he persisted, sending yet another message to the effect that he had +something to communicate to me which was of an essentially personal +nature. Finally I consented to grant him the interview and, as he had +requested, I saw him alone.</p> + +<p>He was just back from the front where he had been war correspondent +during the heart of the Civil War, and he told me that he had a letter +to give to me from a soldier in his division who had been shot. The +soldier was mortally wounded when the reporter found him. He was lying +at the foot of a tree at the point of death, and the correspondent asked +if he could take any last messages for him to friends or relatives. The +soldier asked him to write down a message to take to a woman whom he had +loved for four years, but who did not know of his love.<a name="page_226" id="page_226"></a></p> + +<p>"Tell her," he said, speaking with great difficulty, "that I would not +try even to meet her; but that I have loved her, before God, as well as +any man ever loved a woman." He asked the reporter to feel inside his +uniform for the woman's picture. "It is Miss Kellogg," he added, just +before he died. "You—don't think that she will be offended if I send +her this message—now—do you?"</p> + +<p>He asked the correspondent to draw his sabre and cut off a lock of hair +to send to me, and the reporter wrote down the message on the only +scraps of paper at his disposal—torn bits scribbled over with reports +of the enemy's movements, and the names of other dead soldiers whose +people must be notified when the battle was over. And then the +soldier—my soldier—died; and the correspondent left him the picture +and came away.</p> + +<p>The scribbled message and the lock of hair he put into my hands, saying:</p> + +<p>"He was very much worried lest you would think him presumptuous. I told +him that I was sure you would not."</p> + +<p>I was weeping as he spoke, and so he left me.<a name="page_227" id="page_227"></a></p> + +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XXI" id="CHAPTER_XXI"></a>CHAPTER XXI<br /><br /> +ON THE ROAD</h2> + +<p class="nind"><span class="letra">O</span>H, those first tours! Not only was it exceedingly uncomfortable to +travel in the South and West at that time, but it was decidedly risky as +well. Highway robberies were numerous and, although I myself never +happened to suffer at the hands of any desperadoes, I have often heard +first-hand accounts from persons who had been robbed of everything they +were carrying. While I was touring in Missouri, Jesse James and his men +were operating in the same region and the celebrated highway man himself +was once in the train with me. I slipped quietly through to catch a +glimpse of him in the smoking-car. Two of his "aides" were with him and, +although they were behaving themselves peacefully enough for the time +being, I think that most of the passengers were willing to give them a +wide berth. During one concert trip of our company I saw something of a +situation which might have developed dramatically. There was a "three +card monte" gang working on the train. One of their number pretended to +be a farmer and entirely innocent, so as to lure victims into the game. +I saw this particularly tough-looking individual disappear into the +toilet room and come out made up as the farmer. It was like a play. I +also saw him finger a pistol that he was carrying in his right hip +pocket: and I experienced a somewhat blood-thirsty<a name="page_228" id="page_228"></a> desire that there +might be a genuine excitement in store for us, but the alarm spread and +nobody was snared that trip.</p> + +<p>As there were frequently no through trains on Sundays, we had sometimes +to have special trains. I never quite understood the idea of not having +through trains on Sundays, for surely other travellers besides +unfortunate singers need occasionally to take journeys on the Sabbath. +But so it was. And once our "special" ran plump into a big strike of +locomotive engineers at Dayton, Ohio. Our engine driver was held up by +the strikers bivouacked in the railroad yards and we were stalled there +for hours. At last an engineer from the East was found who consented to +take our train through and there was much excitement while he was being +armed with a couple of revolvers and plenty of ammunition, for the +strikers had threatened to shoot down any "scab" who attempted to break +the strike. We were all ordered to get down on the floor of the car to +avoid the stones that might be thrown through the windows when we +started; and when the train began to move slowly our situation was +decidedly trying. We could hear a hail of shots being fired, as the +engine gathered speed, but our volunteer engineer knew his business and +had been authorised to drive the engine at top speed to get us out of +the trouble, so soon the noise of shooting and the general uproar were +left behind. The plucky strike-breaker was barely grazed, but I, +personally, never cared to come any closer to lawlessness than I was +then.</p> + +<p>There were some bright spots on these disagreeable journeys. One day as +I was coming out of a hall in Duluth where I had been rehearsing for the +concert we were giving that evening, I ran into a man I knew,<a name="page_229" id="page_229"></a> an +Englishman whom I had not seen since I was in London.</p> + +<p>"There!" he exclaimed, "I knew it was you!"</p> + +<p>"Did you see the advertisement?" I asked.</p> + +<p>"No," he returned, "I'm just off the yacht that's lying out there in the +Lake. I'm out looking into some mining interests, you know. I heard your +voice from the boat and I knew it must be you, so I thought I'd take a +run on shore and look you up."</p> + +<p>But such pleasant experiences were the exception. The South in general +was in a particularly blind and dull condition just then. The people +could not conceive of any amusement that was not intended literally to +"amuse." They felt it incumbent to laugh at everything. My <i>cheval de +bataille</i> was the Polonaise from <i>Mignon</i>, at the end of which I had +introduced some chromatic trills. It is a wonderful piece and required a +great deal of genuine technique to master. A portion of the house would +appreciate it, of course, but on one occasion a detestable young couple +thought the trills were intended to be humorous. Whenever I sang a trill +they would poke each other in the ribs and giggle and, when there was a +series of the chromatic trills, they nearly burst. The chromatics +introduced by me were never written. They went like this:</p> + +<p class="figcenter"> +<a href="images/ill_pg_229_lg.png"> +<img src="images/ill_pg_229_sml.png" width="550" height="102" alt="Musical notation." title="musical notation" /></a> +</p> + +<p>One disapproving unit in an audience can spoil a whole evening for a +singer. I recall one concert when I was obsessed by a man in the front +row. He would not even look at me. Possibly he considered that I was a +spoiled creature and he did not wish to aid and abet the<a name="page_230" id="page_230"></a> spoiling, or, +perhaps, he was really bored and disgusted. At any rate, he kept his +eyes fixed on a point high over my head and not with a beatific +expression, either. He clearly did not think much of my work. Well—I +sang my whole programme to that one man. And I was a failure. Charmed I +ever so wisely, I could not really move him. But I <i>did</i> make him +uncomfortable! He wriggled and sat sidewise and clearly was uneasy. He +must have felt that I was trying to win him over in spite of himself. I +sometimes wonder if other singers do the same with obdurate auditors? +Surely they must, for it is a sort of fetish of the profession that +there is always one person present who is by far the most difficult to +charm. In that clever play <i>The Concert</i> the pianist tells the young +woman in love with him that he was first interested in her when he saw +her in the audience because she did not cry. He played his best in order +to moisten her eyes and, when he saw a tear roll down her cheek, he knew +that he had triumphed as an artist. Our audiences were frequently inert +and indiscriminating. One night an usher brought me a programme from +some one in the audience with a suggestion scribbled on the margin:</p> + +<p>"Can't you sing something devilish for a change?"</p> + +<p>I believe they really wanted a song and dance, or a tight-rope +exhibition. We had a baritone who sang well "The Evening Star" from +<i>Tannhauser</i> and his performance frequently ended in a chill silence +with a bit of half-hearted clapping. He had a sense of humour and he +used to come off the stage and say:</p> + +<p>"That didn't go very well! Do you think I'd better do my bicycle act +next?"</p> + +<p class="figcenter"> +<a href="images/clara_as_carmen_lg.jpg"> +<img src="images/clara_as_carmen_sml.jpg" width="292" height="550" alt="Clara Louise Kellogg as Carmen + +From a photograph" title="" /></a> +<br /> +<span class="caption"><b>Clara Louise Kellogg as Carmen</b><br /> + +From a photograph</span> +</p> + +<p>Times change and standards with them. The towns where they yearned for +bicycle acts and "something<a name="page_231" id="page_231"></a> devilish" are to-day centres of musical +taste and cultivation. I never think of the change of standards without +being reminded of an old tale of my father's which is curious in itself, +although I cannot vouch for it nor verify it. He said that somewhere in +Germany there was a bell in a church tower which, when it was first +hung, many years before, was pitched in the key of <i>C</i> and which was +found to ring, in the nineteenth century, according to our present +pitch, at about our <i>B</i> flat. The musical scientists said that the +change was not in the bell but in our own standard of pitch, which had +been gradually raised by the manufacturers of pianos who pitched them +higher and higher to get a more brilliant tone.</p> + +<p>My throat was very sensitive in those days. I took cold easily and used, +besides, to be subject to severe nervous headaches. Yet I always managed +to sing. Indeed, I have never had much sympathy with capricious <i>prime +donne</i> who consider themselves and their own physical feelings before +their obligation to the public that has paid to hear them. While, of +course, in fairness to herself, a singer must somewhat consider her own +interests, I do believe that she cannot be too conscientious in this +connection. In <i>Carmen</i> one night I broke my collar bone in the fall in +the last act. I was still determined to do my part and went out, after +it had been set, and bought material to match my costumes so that the +sling the surgeon had ordered should not be noticed. And, for once +fortunately, my audiences were either not exacting or not observing, +for, apparently, no comment was ever made on the fact that I could not +use my right arm. I could not help questioning whether my gestures were +usually so wooden that an arm, more or less, was not perceptible!<a name="page_232" id="page_232"></a> Our +experiences in general with physicians on the road were lamentable. As a +result my mother carried a regular medicine chest about with her and all +of my fellow-artists used to come to her when anything was the matter +with them.</p> + +<p>Another hardship that we all had to endure was the being on exhibition. +It is one of the penalties of fame. Special trains were most unusual, +and so were <i>prime donne</i>, and crowds used to gather on the station +platforms wherever we stopped, waiting to catch a glimpse of us as we +passed through.</p> + +<p>And the food! Some of our trials in regard to food—or, rather, the lack +of it—were very trying. Voices are very dependent on the digestion; +hence the need of, at least, eatable food, however simple it may be. On +one trip we really nearly starved to death for, of course, there were no +dining-cars and the train did not stop at any station long enough to +forage for a square meal. Finally, in desperation, I told one of the men +in the company that, if he would get some "crude material" at the next +stop and bring it in, I would cook it. So he succeeded in securing a +huge bundle of raw chops, a loaf of bread and some butter. There was a +big stove at one end of the car and on its coals I broiled the chops, +made tea and toast, and we all feasted. Indeed, it seemed a feast after +ten hours with nothing at all! Another time I got off our "special" to +hunt luncheon and was left behind. I raced wildly to catch the train but +could not make it. After a while the company discovered that they had +lost me on the way and backed up to get me. Speaking of food, I shall +never forget the battle royal I once had with a hotel manager on the +road in regard to my coloured maid, Eliza. She was a very nice and +entirely presentable girl and he would<a name="page_233" id="page_233"></a> not let her have even a cup of +tea in the dining-room. We had had a long, hard journey, and she was +quite as tired as the rest of us. So, when I found her still waiting +after I had lunched, I made a few pertinent remarks to the effect that +her presence at the table was much to be preferred to the men who had +eaten there without table manners, uncouth, feeding themselves with +their knives.</p> + +<p>"And what else did we have the war for!" I finally cried. How the others +laughed at me. But Eliza was fed, and well fed, too.</p> + +<p>I had always to carry my own bedclothes on the Western tours. When we +first started out, I did not realise the necessity, but later, I became +wiser. Cleanliness has always been almost more than godliness to me. +Before I would use a dressing-room I nearly always had it thoroughly +swept out and sometimes cleaned and scrubbed. This all depended on the +part of the country we were in. I came to know that in certain sections +of the South-west I should have to have a regular house-cleaning done +before I would set foot in their accommodations. I missed my bath +desperately, and my piano, and all the other luxuries that have become +practical necessities to civilised persons. When I could not have a +state-room on a train, my maid would bring a cup of cold water to my +berth before I dressed that was a poor apology for a bath, but that +saved my life on many a morning after a long, stuffy night in a sleeper.</p> + +<p>The lesser hardships perhaps annoyed me most. Bad food, bad air, rough +travelling, were worse than the more serious ills of fatigue and +indispositions. But the worst of all was the water. One can, at a pinch, +get along with poor food or with no food at all to speak of, but bad +water is a much more serious matter. Even<a name="page_234" id="page_234"></a> dirt is tolerable if it can +be washed off afterwards. But I have seen many places where the water +was less inviting than the dirt. When I first beheld Missouri water I +hardly dared wash in it, much less drink it, and was appalled when it +was served to me at the table. I gazed with horror at the brown liquid +in my tumbler, and then said faintly to the waiter:</p> + +<p>"Can't you get me some clear water, please?"</p> + +<p>"Oh, yes," said he, "it'll be clearer, ma'am, <i>but it won't be near so +rich</i>!"</p> + +<p>And all the time I was working, for, no matter what the hardships or +distractions that may come an artist's way, he or she must always keep +at work. Singing is something that must be worked for just as hard after +it is won as during the winning process. Liszt is supposed to have said +that when he missed practising one day he knew it; when he missed two +days his friends knew it; on the third day the public knew it. I often +rehearsed before a mirror, so that I could know whether I looked right +as well as sounded right; and, <i>apropos</i> of this, I have been much +impressed by the fact that ways of rehearsing are very different and +characteristic. Ellen Terry once told me that, when she had a new part +to study, she generally got into a closed carriage, with the window +open, and was driven about for two or three hours, working on her lines.</p> + +<p>"It is the only way I can keep my repose," she said. "I only wish I had +some of Henry's repose when studying a part!"</p> + +<p class="figcenter"> +<a href="images/henry_irving_ellen_terry_lg.jpg"> +<img src="images/henry_irving_ellen_terry_sml.jpg" width="393" height="550" alt="Sir Henry Irving and Ellen Terry as the Vicar and Olivia + +From a photograph by Window & Grove" title="" /></a> +<br /> +<span class="caption"><b>Sir Henry Irving and Ellen Terry as the Vicar and Olivia</b><br /> + +From a photograph by Window & Grove</span> +</p> + +<p><a name="page_235" id="page_235"></a></p> + +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XXII" id="CHAPTER_XXII"></a>CHAPTER XXII<br /><br /> +LONDON AGAIN</h2> + +<p class="nind"><span class="letra">A</span>FTER nearly three years of concert and oratorio and racketing about +America on tours, it was a joy to go to England again for another +season. The Peace Jubilee Association asked me to sing at their +celebration in Boston that spring, but I went to London instead. The +offer from the Association was a great compliment, however, and +especially the wording of the resolution as communicated to me by the +secretary.</p> + +<p>"Unanimously voted:—That Miss Clara Louise Kellogg, the leading <i>prima +donna</i> of America, receive the special invitation of the Executive +Committee, etc."</p> + +<p>The spring season in London was well along when we arrived there and, +before I had been in the city a day, I began to feel at home again. +Newcastle and Dr. Quinn called almost immediately and Alfred Rothschild +sent me flowers, all of which made me realize that this was really +England once more and that I was among old and dear friends.</p> + +<p>I was again to sing under Mapleson's management. The new opera house, +built on the site of Her Majesty's that had burned, was highly +satisfactory; and he had nearly all of his old singers again—Titjiens, +Nilsson, and myself among others. Patti and Lucca were still our rivals +at Covent Garden; also Faure and Cotogni; and there was a pretty, young, +new singer from Canada with them, Mme. Albani, who had a light, sweet +voice<a name="page_236" id="page_236"></a> and was attractive in appearance. Our two innovations at Her +Majesty's were Marie Roze from the Paris Opera Comique—later destined +to be associated with me professionally and with Mapleson +personally—and Italo Campanini. Campanini was the son of a blacksmith +in Italy and had worked at the forge himself for many years before going +on the stage, and was the hero of the hour, for not only was his voice a +very lovely one, but he was also a fine actor. It was worth while to see +his Don José. People forgot that Carmen herself was in the opera. Our +other tenor was Capoul, the Frenchman, Trebelli-Bettini was our leading +contralto and my friend Foli—"the Irish Italian from Connecticut"—was +still with us.</p> + +<p>Campanini, the idol of the town, was, like most tenors, enormously +pleased with himself. To be sure, he had some reason, with his heavenly +voice, his dramatic gift, and his artistic instinct; but one would like +some day to meet a man gifted with a divine vocal organ and a simple +spirit both, at the same time. It appears to be an impossible +combination. When Mapleson told Campanini that he was to sing with me in +<i>Lucia</i> he frowned and considered the point.</p> + +<p>"An American," he muttered doubtfully. "I have never heard her—do I +know that she can sing? I—Campanini—cannot sing with a <i>prima donna</i> +of whom I know nothing! Who is this Miss Kellogg anyway?"</p> + +<p>"You're quite right," said the Colonel with the most cordial air of +assent. "You'd better hear her before you decide. She's singing Linda +to-night. Go into the stalls and listen to her for a few moments. If you +don't want to sing with her, you don't have to."</p> + +<p>That evening Campanini was on hand, ready to controvert the very idea of +an American <i>prima donna</i><a name="page_237" id="page_237"></a> daring to sing with him. After the first act +he came out into the foyer and ran into the Colonel.</p> + +<p>"Well," remarked that gentleman casually, winking at Jarrett, "can she +sing?"</p> + +<p>"Sing?" said Campanini solemnly, "she has the voice of a flute. It is +the absolutely perfect tone. It is a—miracle!"</p> + +<p>So, after all, Campanini and I sang together that season in <i>Lucia</i> and +in other operas. While Campanini was a great artist, he was a very petty +man in many ways. A little incident when Capoul was singing <i>Faust</i> one +night is illustrative. Capoul, much admired and especially in America, +was intensely nervous and emotional with a quick temper. Between him and +Italo Campanini a certain rivalry had been developing for some time, +and, whatever may be asserted to the contrary, male singers are much +bitterer rivals than women ever are. On the night I speak of, Campanini +came into his box during the <i>Salve dimora</i> and set down to listen. As +Capoul sang, the Italian's face became lined with a frown of annoyance +and, after a moment or two, he began to drum on the rail before him as +if he could not conceal his exasperation and <i>ennui</i>. The longer Capoul +sang, the louder and more irritated the tapping became until most of the +audience was unkind enough to laugh just a little. Poor Capoul tried, in +vain, to sing down that insistent drumming, and, when the act was over, +he came behind the scenes and actually cried with rage.</p> + +<p>On what might be called my second <i>début</i> in London, I had an ovation +almost as warm as my welcome home to my native land had been three years +before. I had forgotten how truly the English people were my friends +until I heard the applause which greeted me as I walked<a name="page_238" id="page_238"></a> onto the stage +that night in <i>Linda di Chamouix</i>. Sir Michael Costa, who was conducting +that year, was always an irascible and inflexible autocrat when it came +to operatic rules and ideals. One of the points of observance upon which +he absolutely insisted was that the opera must never be interrupted for +applause. Theoretically this was perfectly correct; but nearly all good +rules are made to be broken once in a while and it was quite obvious +that the audience intended this occasion to be one of the times. Sir +Michael went on leading his orchestra and the people in front went on +clapping until the whole place became a pandemonium. The house at last, +and while still applauding, began to hiss the orchestra so that, after a +minute of a tug-of-war effect, Sir Michael was obliged to lay down his +baton—although with a very bad grace—and let the applause storm itself +out. I could see him scowling at me as I bowed and smiled and bowed +again, nearly crying outright at the friendliness of my welcome. There +were traitors in his own camp, too, for, as soon as the baton was +lowered, half the orchestra—old friends mostly—joined in the applause! +Sir Michael never before had broken through his rule; and I do not fancy +he liked me any the better for being the person to force upon him this +one exception.</p> + +<p>I include here a letter written to someone in America just after this +performance by Bennett of <i>The London Telegraph</i> that pleased me +extremely, both for its general appreciative friendliness and because it +was a <i>résumé</i> of the English press and public regarding my former and +my present appearance in England.</p> + +<div class="blockquot"><p>Miss Kellogg has not been forgotten during the years which +intervened, and not a few <i>habitués</i> cherished a hope<a name="page_239" id="page_239"></a> that she +would be led across the Atlantic once more. She was, however, +hardly expected to measure herself against the <i>crème-de-la-crème</i> +of the world's <i>prime donne</i> with no preliminary beat of drum and +blowing of trumpet, trusting solely to her own gifts and to the +fairness of an English public. This she did, however, and all the +English love of "pluck" was stirred to sympathy. We felt that here +was a case of the real Anglo-Saxon determination, and Miss Kellogg +was received in a manner which left nothing of encouragement to be +desired. Defeat under such circumstances would have been +honourable, but Miss Kellogg was not defeated. So far from this, +she at once took a distinguished place in our galaxy of "stars"; +rose more and more into favour with each representation, and ended, +as Susannah in <i>Le Nozze di Figaro</i> by carrying off the honours +from the Countess of Mlle. Titjiens and the Cherubino of Mlle. +Nilsson. A greater achievement than this last Miss Kellogg's +ambition could not desire. It was "a feather in her cap" which she +will proudly wear back to her native land as a trophy of no +ordinary conflict and success. You may be curious to know the exact +grounds upon which we thus honour your talented countrywoman, and +in stating them I shall do better than were I to criticise +performances necessarily familiar. In the first place, we recognise +in Miss Kellogg an artist, and not a mere singer. People of the +latter class are plentiful enough, and are easily to be +distinguished by the way in which they "reel" off their task—a way +brilliant, perhaps, but exciting nothing more than the admiration +due to efficient mechanism. The artist, on the other hand, shows in +a score of forms that he is more than a machine and that something +of human feeling may be made to combine with technical correctness. +Herein lies the great charm often, perhaps, unconsciously +acknowledged, of Miss Kellogg's efforts. We know at once, listening +to her, that she sings from the depth of a keenly sensitive +artistic nature, and never did anybody do this without calling out +a sympathetic response. It is not less<a name="page_240" id="page_240"></a> evident that Miss Kellogg +is a consummate musician—that "rare bird" on the operatic boards. +Hence, her unvarying correctness; her lively appreciation of the +composer in his happiest moments, and the manner in which she +adapts her individual efforts to the production of his intended +effects. Lastly, without dwelling upon the charm of a voice and +style perfectly well known to you and ungrudgingly recognised here, +we see in Miss Kellogg a dramatic artist who can form her own +notion of a part and work it out after a distinctive fashion. +Anyone able to do this comes with refreshing effect at a time when +the lyric stage is covered with pale copies of traditionary +excellence. It was refreshing, for example, to witness Miss +Kellogg's Susannah, an embodiment full of realism without +coarseness and <i>esprit</i> without exaggeration. Susannahs, as a rule, +try to be ladylike and interesting. Miss Kellogg's waiting-maid was +just what Beaumarchais intended, and the audience recognised the +truthful picture only to applaud it. For all these reasons, and for +more which I have no space to name, we do honour to the American +<i>prima donna</i>, so that whenever you can spare her on your side we +shall be happy to welcome her on ours.</p></div> + +<p>It was during this season in London that Max Maretzek and Max Strakosch +decided to go into opera management together in America; and Maretzek +came over to London to get the company together. Pauline Lucca and I +were to be the <i>prime donne</i> and one of our novelties was to be Gounod's +new opera <i>Mireille</i>, founded on the poem by the Provençal poet, +Mistral. I say "new opera" because it was still unknown in America; +possibly because it had been a failure in London where it had already +been produced. "The Magnificent" thought it would be sure to do well in +"the States" on account of the wild Gounod vogue that had been started +by <i>Faust</i> and <i>Romeo and Juliette</i>.</p> + +<p class="figcenter"> +<a href="images/faust_score_lg.jpg"> +<img src="images/faust_score_sml.jpg" width="550" height="309" alt="First edition of the Faust score, published in 1859 by +Chousens of Paris, now in the Boston Public Library" title="" /></a> +<br /> +<span class="caption">First edition of the Faust score, published in 1859 by +Chousens of Paris,<br /> +now in the Boston Public Library</span> +</p> + +<p><a name="page_241" id="page_241"></a></p> + +<p>I was to sing it; and Colonel Mapleson sent Mr. Jarrett with me to call +on Gounod, who was then living in London, to get what points I could +from the master himself.</p> + +<p>Everybody who knows anything about Gounod knows also about Mrs. Welldon. +Georgina Welldon, the wife of an English officer, was an exceedingly +eccentric character to say the least. Even the most straight-laced +biographers refer to the "romantic friendship" between the composer and +this lady—which, after all, is as good a way as any of tagging it. She +ran a sort of school for choristers in London and had, I believe, some +idea of training the poor boys of the city to sing in choirs. Her house +was usually full of more or less musical youngsters. She was, also, +something of a musical publisher and the organiser of a woman's musical +association, whether for orchestral or choral music I am not quite +certain. From this it will be seen that she was, at heart, a New Woman, +although her activities were in a period that was still old-fashioned. +If she were in her prime to-day, she would undoubtedly be a militant +suffragette. She was also noted for the lawsuits in which she figured; +one particular case dragging along into an unconscionable length of time +and being much commented upon in the newspapers.</p> + +<p>Gounod and she lived in Tavistock Place, in the house where Dickens +lived so long and that is always associated with his name. On the +occasion of our call, Mr. Jarrett and I were ushered into a study, much +littered and crowded, to wait for the great man. It proved to be a +somewhat long drawn-out wait, for the household seemed to be in a state +of subdued turmoil. We could hear voices in the hall; some one was +asking<a name="page_242" id="page_242"></a> about a music manuscript for the publishers. Suddenly, a woman +flew into the room where we were sitting. She was unattractive and +unkempt; she wore a rumpled and soiled kimono; her hair was much +tousled; her bare feet were thrust into shabby bedroom slippers; and she +did not look in the least as if she had had her bath. Indeed, I am +expressing her appearance mildly and politely! She made a dive for the +master's writing-table, gathered up some papers—sorting and selecting +with lightning speed and an air of authority—and then darted out of the +room as rapidly as she had entered. It was, of course, Mrs. Welldon, of +whom I had heard so much and whom I had pictured as a fascinating woman. +This is the nearest I ever came to meeting this person who was so +conspicuous a figure of her day, although I have seen her a few other +times. When dressed for the street she was most ordinary looking. Gounod +was in the house, it developed, all the time that we waited, although he +could not attend to us immediately. He was living like a recluse so far +as active professional or social life was concerned, but he was a very +busy man and beset with all manner of duties. When he at last came to +us, he greeted us with characteristic French courtesy. His manners were +exceedingly courtly. He was grey-haired, charming, and very quiet. I +think he was really shy. With apologies, he opened his letters, and, +while giving orders and hearing messages, a pretty incident occurred. A +young girl, very graceful and sweet looking, came into the room. She +hurried forward with a little, impulsive movement and, curtseying deeply +to Gounod, seized one of his hands in both of hers and raised it to her +lips.</p> + +<p>"<i>Cher maître!</i>" she murmured adoringly, and flitted away, the master +following her with a smiling glance.<a name="page_243" id="page_243"></a> It was Nita Giatano, an American, +afterwards Mrs. Moncrieff, now the widow of an English officer, who was +studying with Gounod and living there and who, later, became fairly well +known as a singer. Then Gounod proceeded to say pleasant things about my +<i>Marguerite</i> and was interested in hearing that I was planning to do +<i>Mireille</i>. We then and there went over the music together and he gave +me an annotated score of <i>Mireille</i> with his autograph and marginal +directions. I treasured it for years afterwards; and a most tragic fate +overtook it at last. I sent it to a book-binder to be bound, and, when +the score came back, did not immediately look through it. It was some +time later, indeed, that I opened it to show it off to someone to whom I +had been speaking of the precious notes and autograph. I turned page +after page—there were no notes. I looked at the title page—there was +no signature. That wretched book-binder had not scrupled to substitute a +new and valueless score for my beloved copy, and had doubtless sold the +original, with Gounod's autograph and annotations, to some collector for +a pretty sum. When I tried to hunt the man up, I found that he had gone +out of business and moved away. He was not to be found and I have never +been able to regain my score.</p> + +<p><i>Mireille</i> was not given for several years, as affairs turned out, and I +rather congratulated myself that this was so, for it was not one of +Gounod's best productions. I once met Mme. Gounod in Paris, or, rather, +in its environs, at a garden party given at the Menier—the Chocolat +Menier—place. She was a well-mannered, commonplace Frenchwoman, rather +colourless and uninteresting. I came to understand that even Georgina +Welldon, with her untidy kimono and her<a name="page_244" id="page_244"></a> lawsuits, might have been more +entertaining. I asked Gounod, on this occasion, to play some of the +music of <i>Romeo and Juliette</i>. He did so and, at the end, said:</p> + +<p>"I see you like my children!"</p> + +<p>Gounod was chiefly famous in London for the delightful recitals he gave +from time to time of his own music. He had no voice, but he could render +programmes of his own songs with great success. Everybody was +enthusiastic over the beautiful and intricate accompaniments that were +such a novelty. He was so splendid a musician that he could create a +more charming effect without a voice than another man could have +achieved with the notes of an angel. Poor Gounod, like nearly all +creative genuises, had a great many bitter struggles before he obtained +recognition. Count Fabri has told me that, while <i>Faust</i> (the opera +which he sold for twelve hundred dollars) was running to packed houses +and the whole world was applauding it, Gounod himself was really in +need. His music publisher met him in the streets of Paris, wearing a +wretched old hat and looking very seedy.</p> + +<p>"Why on earth," cried the publisher, "don't you get a new hat?"</p> + +<p>"I did not make enough on <i>Faust</i> to pay for one," was the bitter +answer.<a name="page_245" id="page_245"></a></p> + +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XXIII" id="CHAPTER_XXIII"></a>CHAPTER XXIII<br /><br /> +THE SEASON WITH LUCCA</h2> + +<p class="nind"><span class="letra">A</span>FTER the London season and before returning to America we went to +Switzerland for a brief holiday. During this little trip there occurred +a pleasing and somewhat quaint incident. On the Grünewald Glacier we met +a young Italian-Swiss mountaineer who earned his living by making echoes +from the crags with a big horn and by the national art of yodeling. +There was one particular echo which was the pride of the region and, the +day we were exploring the glacier, he did not call it forth as well as +usual. Although he tried several times, we could distinguish very little +echo. Finally, acting on a sudden impulse, I stood up in our carriage +and yodeled for him, ending with a long trill. The high, pure air +exhilarated me and made me feel that I could do absolutely anything in +the world with my voice, and I actually struck one or two of the highest +and strongest notes that I ever sang in my life and one of the best +trills. The echoes came rippling back to us with wonderful effect.</p> + +<p>The young mountaineer took off his Tyrolean hat and bowed to me deeply.</p> + +<p>"Ah, mademoiselle!" he said, "if I could call into being such an echo, +my fortune here would be made!"</p> + +<p>Our stay there was all too short to please me and the day soon came for +us to start for home. We crossed on<a name="page_246" id="page_246"></a> the <i>Cuba</i> of the Cunard Line, and +a very poor steamer she was. It was not in the least an interesting +trip. There was no social intercourse, because all the passengers were +too seasick to talk or even to listen. It seemed to them like a personal +affront for anyone not to succumb to <i>mal de mer</i>.</p> + +<p>"You mean thing," one woman said to me, "why aren't you seasick!"</p> + +<p>Our passenger list was, however, a somewhat striking one. Rubenstein and +Wieniawski were on board and Clara Doria; Mark Smith, the actor; Edmund +Yeats and Maddox, the editor whom I had known in London, and, of course, +Pauline Lucca. She was registered as the Baroness von Raden and had her +baby with her—the one generally believed to have a royal father—and, +with her baby and her seasickness, was very much occupied. Her father +and mother accompanied her. Lucca, as we know, had been a ballerina. Her +toes were all twisted and deformed by her early years of dancing. She +once showed them to me, a pitiful record of the triumphs of a ballet +dancer. There was something of the ballerina in her temperament, also, +which she never entirely outgrew. Certainly she was far from being a +<i>prima donna</i> type. An irresistible sense of fun made her a most amusing +companion; and her charm lay largely in her unexpectedness. One never +could guess what she was going to do or say next. I recall an incident +that occurred a little later in Chicago that illustrates this. A very +handsome music critic—I will not mention his name—came behind the +scenes one night to see us. He was a grave young man, with a brown beard +and beautiful eyes, and his appearance gave a vague sense of familiarity +as if we had seen it in some well-known picture. Yet I could not place<a name="page_247" id="page_247"></a> +the resemblance. Lucca stood off at a little distance studying him +owlishly for a minute or two as he was chatting to me in the wings. +Presently she whisked up to him with her brown eyes dancing and, looking +up at him in the drollest way, said laughingly:</p> + +<p>"And how do you do, my Jesus Christ!"</p> + +<p>On this voyage home I saw more or less of Edmund Yeats who kept us +amused with a steady flow of witty talk and who kept up an equally +steady flow of brandy and soda, and of Maddox who was not seasick and +was willing to both walk and talk. Maddox was an interesting man, with +many strange stories to tell of things and people famous and well-known. +Among other personalities we discussed Adelaide Neilson, whose real +name, by the way, was Mary Ann Rogers. I was speaking of her refinement +and pretty manners on the stage, her gracious and yet unassuming fashion +of accepting applause, and her general air of good breeding, when Maddox +told me, to my great astonishment, that this was more remarkable than I +could possibly imagine since the charming actress had come from the most +disadvantageous beginnings. She had, in fact, led a life that is +generally characterised as "unfortunate" and it was while she was in +this life that Maddox first met her, and, finding the girl full of +ambition and aspirations toward something higher, had put her in the way +of cultivating herself and her talents. These facts as told me by Maddox +have always remained in my mind, not in the least to Neilson's +discredit, but quite the reverse, for they only make her charming and +artistic achievements all the more admirable. I have always enjoyed +watching her. She was always just diffident enough without being +self-conscious. It used to be pretty to see her from a box where I could +look<a name="page_248" id="page_248"></a> at her behind the scenes compose herself before taking a curtain +call. She would slip into the mood of the part that she had just been +playing and that she wished still to suggest to the audience. Which +reminds me that Henry Irving once told me that he and Miss Terry did +exactly this same thing. "We always try to keep within the picture even +after the act is over," he said. "An actor should never take his call in +his own character, but always in that which he has been personating."</p> + +<p>On the whole the particular trip of which I am now speaking stands out +dominantly in my memory because of Rubenstein. I never, never saw anyone +so seasick, nor anyone so completely depressed by the fact. Poor +creature! He swore, faintly, that he would never cross the ocean again +even to get home! Occasionally he would talk feebly, but his spirit was +completely broken. I have not the faintest idea what Rubenstein was like +when he was not seasick. He may have sparkled consummately in a normal +condition; but he did not sparkle on the <i>Cuba</i>.</p> + +<p>The Lucca-Kellogg season which followed was not a comfortable one, but +it netted us large receipts. The work was arduous, the operas heavy, and +the management was up to its ears in contentions and jealousies. New +York was in a musical fever during the early seventies. We were just +finding out how to be musical and it was a great and pleasurable +excitement. We were pioneers, and enjoyed it, and were happy in not +being hide-bound by traditions as were the older countries, because we +had none. One of the season's sensations was Senorita Sanz, a Spanish +contralto, whose voice was not unlike that of Adelaide Phillips. She was +a beautiful woman and a good actress, and, above all, she had the true +Spanish temperament,<a name="page_249" id="page_249"></a> languid, exotic and yet fiery. Her Azucena was a +fine performance; and she created a tremendous <i>furore</i> with La Paloma, +which was then a novelty. She used to sing it at Sunday night concerts +and set the audiences wild with:</p> + +<p class="figcenter"> +<a href="images/ill_pg_249_lg.png"> +<img src="images/ill_pg_249_sml.png" width="550" height="95" alt="Musical notation; Cuan-do...... sa-lí de lo Ha-ba-na +Vál-ga-me Dios!" title="musical notation" /></a> +</p> + +<p>Lucca's operas for the season were <i>Faust</i>, <i>Traviata</i>, <i>L'Africaine</i>, +<i>Fra Diavolo</i> and <i>La Figlia del Regimento</i>. Mine were <i>Trovatore</i>, +<i>Traviata</i>, <i>Crispano</i>, <i>Linda</i> and <i>Martha</i>, and <i>Don Giovanni</i>. It was +to Lucca's <i>Zerlina</i> that I first sang Donna Anna in <i>Don Giovanni</i>; +and, as in the big concert at the Coliseum my friends had felt some +doubts as to the carrying power of my voice, so now many persons +expected the <i>rôle</i> to be too heavy for me. But I believe I succeeded in +proving the contrary. When we did <i>Le Nozze di Figaro</i>, Lucca was the +Cherubino, making the quaintest looking of boys and much resembling one +of Raphael's cherubs in his painting of the <i>Sistine Madonna</i>.</p> + +<p>Personally, the relations between Lucca and myself were always amicable +enough; but we had certain professional frictions, brought about, +indeed, by Jarrett who, although he was nothing but an agent and an +indifferent one at that, was generally regarded as an authority, and +gave out critiques to the newspapers. It so happened that, without my +knowledge, the monopoly of singing in <i>Faust</i> was in her contract and I +was so prevented from singing Marguerite once during our entire +engagement. As Marguerite was my <i>rôle</i> pre-eminently, by right of +conquest, in America, I felt very hurt and angry about the matter and, +at first,<a name="page_250" id="page_250"></a> wanted to resign from the company, but, of course, was talked +out of that attitude. Jarrett would not, however, consent to my even +alternating with Lucca in the part; but possibly he was wise in this as +Marguerite was never one of her best personations. She played a very +impulsive and un-German Gretchen, in spite of herself, being an Austrian +by birth. One of the newspapers said that "she fell in love with Faust +at first sight and the Devil was a useless article!" Her +characterisation of the part was somewhat devilish in itself; her work +was striking, effective, and <i>piquant</i>, but not touched by much +distinction. The difference between our presentations was said to be +that I "convinced by a refined perfection of detail" and Lucca by more +vivid qualities. Indeed, our voices and methods were so dissimilar that +we never felt any personal rivalry, whatever the critics said to the +contrary. As one man justly expressed it: "Neither Lucca nor Kellogg has +the talent for quarrelling." There were, of course, rival factions in +our public. A man one night sent a note behind the scenes to me +containing this message: "Poor Kellogg! you have no chance at all with +Lucca!" Two days later Mme. Lucca came to me laughing and said that some +one had asked her: "How do you dare to sing on the same bill with Miss +Kellogg, the American favourite?"</p> + +<p class="figcenter"> +<a href="images/newspaper_print_season_lg.jpg"> +<img src="images/newspaper_print_season_sml.jpg" width="423" height="550" alt="Newspaper Print of the Kellogg-Lucca Season + +Drawn by Jos. Keppler" title="" /></a> +<br /> +<span class="caption"><b>Newspaper Print of the Kellogg-Lucca Season</b><br /> + +Drawn by Jos. Keppler</span> +</p> + +<p>So interesting did our supposed rivalry become, however, as to excite +considerable newspaper comment. In reply to one of these in <i>The Chicago +Tribune</i> a contributor answered:</p> + +<div class="blockquot"><p class="nind"><i>To the Editor of The Chicago Tribune</i>:</p> + +<p>S<small>IR</small>: In your issue of this morning, there is an editorial headed +"Operatic Failure," which is, in some respects, so unjust and +one-sided as to call for an immediate protest<a name="page_251" id="page_251"></a> against its +injustice. Having taken your ideas from <i>The New York Herald</i>, and +having no other source of information, it is not to be wondered at +that you should fall into error. For reasons best known to Mr. +James Gordon Bennett, <i>The New York Herald</i>, since the commencement +of the Jarrett-Maretzek season, has undertaken to write up Madame +Lucca at the expense of every other artist connected with the +troupe; and it is because of <i>The Herald's</i> fulsome laudations of +Lucca, and its outrageously untruthful criticisms of Kellogg, that +much of the trouble has occurred. Of the two ladies, Kellogg is by +far the superior singer. Lucca has much dramatic force, but, in +musical culture, is not equal to her sister artist, and there is no +jealousy on the part of either lady of the other. The facts are +these: The management, taking their cue from <i>The Herald</i>, and +being afraid of the power of Mr. Bennett, tried to shelve Kellogg, +and the result has been that the dear public would not permit the +injustice, and they, the managers, as well as <i>The Herald</i>, are +amazed and angered at the result of their dirty work.</p> + +<p class="r">O<small>PERA.</small> +</p> + +<p>Chicago, Oct. 28, 1872.</p></div> + +<p>Lucca and I gave <i>Mignon</i> that season together, she playing the part of +Mignon and I that of Felina, the cat. Mignon was always a favourite part +of my own, a sympathetic <i>rôle</i> filled with poetry and sentiment. When I +first studied it, I most carefully read <i>Wilhelm Meister</i>, upon which it +is founded. Regarding the part of Felina, I have often wondered that +people have never been more perceptive than they appear to have been of +the analogy between her name and her qualities, for she has all of the +characteristics of the feline species. Our dual star bill in the opera +was highly successful and effective in spite of Jarrett's continual +attacks upon me through the press and in every way open to him.<a name="page_252" id="page_252"></a> He did +me a particularly cruel turn about Felina. I started off in the <i>rôle</i>, +the opening night, in what I still believe to have been the correct +interpretation. <i>Wilhelm Meister</i> was set in a finicky period and its +characters wore white wigs and minced about in their actions. My part +was all comedy and the gestures should have been little and dainty and +somewhat constrained. So I played it, until I saw this criticism, +written by one of Jarrett's creatures, "Miss Kellogg has no freedom of +movement in the <i>rôle</i> of Felina, etc."</p> + +<p>My mother, always anxious for me to profit by criticism that might have +value, said that perhaps the man was right. At any rate, between the +two, I became so self-conscious that the next time I sang Felina I could +not get into the mood of it at all. Not to seem restricted in gesture, I +waved my arms as if I were in <i>Norma</i>; and the performance was a very +poor one in consequence. Yet, in spite of Jarrett's machinations, it was +said of me in the press of the day:</p> + +<p>" ...Her rendering of Felina was a magnificent success. From the first +scene on the balcony until her light-hearted laughter dies away, she is +a vision of beauty and grace, appealing to every high aesthetic emotion +and charming all hearts with her sweetness."</p> + +<p class="figcenter"> +<a href="images/clara_in_mignon_lg.jpg"> +<img src="images/clara_in_mignon_sml.jpg" width="396" height="550" alt="Clara Louise Kellogg in Mignon + +From a photograph by Mora" title="" /></a> +<br /> +<span class="caption"><b>Clara Louise Kellogg in Mignon</b><br /> + +From a photograph by Mora</span> +</p> + +<p>Furthermore, an eminent Shakespearean critic, writing then, said:</p> + +<div class="blockquot"><p>As an actress, Miss Kellogg's superiority cannot justly be +questioned. Some things are exquisitely represented by the fair +Swede, Miss Nilsson, such as the dazed look, the stupefaction +caused by a great shock, like that of the death of Valentin, for +instance; such as the madness to which the distracting conflict of +many selfish feelings and passions leads. But she is always +circumscribed by her own consciousness.<a name="page_253" id="page_253"></a> Her soul never passes +beyond that limit—never surrounds her—filling the stage and +infecting the audience with a magnetic atmosphere which is a part +of herself, or herself transfused, if such expressions be +allowable. In this respect Miss Kellogg is very different and +greatly superior. Her sympathies are large. She conceives well the +effects of the warmer and more generous passions upon the person +who feels them. She can, by the force of her imagination, abandon +herself to these influences, and, by her artistic skill, give them +apt expression. She can cease to be self-conscious, and feel but +the fictitious consciousness of the personage whom she represents, +while the force of her own illusion magnetises her auditors till +they respond like well-tuned harps to every chord of feeling which +she strikes.</p></div> + +<p>Such notices, such critiques, were compensations! Taken as a whole, +Felina was a successful part for me; largely on account of that piece of +glittering generalities, the Polonaise. In this, according to one +critic, "she aroused the admiration of her auditors to a condition that +was really a tempestuous <i>furore</i>." So, as I say, there were +compensations for Jarrett's unkindnesses.<a name="page_254" id="page_254"></a></p> + +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XXIV" id="CHAPTER_XXIV"></a>CHAPTER XXIV<br /><br /> +ENGLISH OPERA</h2> + +<p class="nind"><span class="letra">T</span>HE idea of giving opera in English has always interested me. I never +could understand why there were any more reasons against giving an +English version of <i>Carmen</i> in New York than against giving a French +version of <i>Die Freischütz</i> in Paris or a German version of <i>La Belle +Hélène</i> in Berlin. To be sure, it goes without saying, from a purist +point of view it is a patent truth, that no libretto is ever so fine +after it has been translated. Not only does the quality and spirit of +the original evaporate in the process of translating, but, also, the +syllables come wrong. Who has not suffered from the translations of +foreign songs into which the translator has been obliged to introduce +secondary notes to fit the extra syllables of the clumsily adapted +English words? These are absolute objections to the performance of any +operas or songs in a language other than the one to which the composer +first set his music. Wagner in French is a joke; so is Goethe in +Italian. A musician of my acquaintance once spoke of Strauss's <i>Salome</i> +as a case in point, although it is a queerly inverse one. "Oscar Wilde's +French poem or play—whichever you like to call it—" he said, "was +translated into German; and it was this translation, or so it is +generally understood, that Strauss set to music. When the opera—a +French opera in spirit, taken from<a name="page_255" id="page_255"></a> French text that was most Frenchly +treated—was given with Oscar Wilde's original French words, the music +often seemed to go haltingly, as though it had been adopted to phrases +for which it had not been composed." Several notable singers have +recently entered a protest against giving opera in English. Miss +Garden—admirable and spontaneous artist though she be—once wrote an +article in which she cited <i>Madame Butterfly</i> as an example of the +inartistic effects of English librettos. I do not recall her exact +words, but they referred to the scene in which Dick Pinkerton offers +Sharpless a whiskey and soda. Miss Garden said, If I remember correctly, +that the very words "whiskey and soda" were inartistic and spoiled the +poetry and picturesqueness of the act. Personally, I do not see that it +was the words that were inartistic, but, rather, the introduction of +whiskey and soda at all into a grand opera. My point is that such +objections obtain not more stringently against English translations than +against German, French, or Italian translations. Furthermore, after all +is said that can be said against translations into whatsoever language, +the fact remains that countries and races are not nearly so different as +they pretend to be; and a human sentiment, a dramatic situation, or a +lovely melody will permeate the consciousness of a Frenchman, an +Englishman, or a German in approximately the same manner and in the same +length of time. Adaptations and translations are merely different means, +poorer or better as the case may be, of facilitating such assimilations; +and, so soon as the idea reaches the audience, the audience is going to +receive it joyfully, no matter what nation it comes from or through what +medium:—that is, if it is a good idea to begin with.<a name="page_256" id="page_256"></a></p> + +<p>Possibly this may be a little beside the point; but, at least, it serves +to introduce the subject of English opera—or, rather, foreign grand +opera given in English—the giving of which was an undertaking on which +I embarked in 1873. I became my own manager and, with C. D. Hess, +organised an English Opera Company that, by its success, brought the +best music to the comprehension of the intelligent masses. I believe +that the enterprise did much for the advancement of musical art in this +country; and it, besides, gave employment to a large number of young +Americans, several of whom began their careers in the chorus of the +company and soon advanced to higher places in the musical world. Joseph +Maas was one of the singers whom this company did much for; and George +Conly was another. The former at first played small parts, but his +chance came to him as Lorenzo in <i>Fra Diavolo</i>, when he made a big hit, +and, eventually, he returned to England and became her greatest oratorio +tenor. I myself made the versions of the standard operas used by us +during the first season of English opera, translating them newly and +directly from the Italian and the French and, in some instances, +restoring the text to a better condition than is found in English opera +generally. My enterprise met with a great deal of criticism and +discussion. Usually, public opinion and the opinion of the press were +favourable. One of my staunch supporters was Will Davis, the husband of +Jessie Bartlett Davis. In <i>The Chicago Tribune</i> he wrote:</p> + +<div class="blockquot"><p>Unless the public can understand what is sung in opera or oratorio +recital, song or ballad, no more than a passing interest can be +awakened in the music-loving public. I do not agree with those who +claim that language or thought<a name="page_257" id="page_257"></a> is a secondary consideration to the +enjoyment of vocal music. I believe that a superior writer of +lyrics can fit words to the music of foreign operas that will not +only be sensible but singable. I agree with <i>The Tribune</i> that +opera in the English language has never had a fair show, but I +claim that the reason for this is because of the bad translations +that have been given to the artists to sing.</p></div> + +<p>After our success had become assured, one of the press notices read:</p> + +<div class="blockquot"><p>Never, in this country, has English opera been so creditably +produced and so energetically managed as by the present +Kellogg-Hess combination. All the business details being supervised +by Mr. Hess, one of the longest-headed and hardest-working men of +business to be found in even this age and nation, are thoroughly, +systematically and promptly attended to; while all the artistic +details, being under the direct personal care of Miss Clara Louise +Kellogg, confessedly the best as well as the most popular singer +America has produced, are brought to and preserved at the highest +attainable musical standard. The performers embraced in the +Hess-Kellogg English Opera Company comprise several artists of the +first rank. The names of Castle, Maas, Peakes, Mrs. Seguin, Mrs. +Van Zandt, and Miss Montague are familiar as household words to the +musical world, while the <i>répertoire</i> embraces not only all the old +established favourites of the public, but many of the most recent +or <i>recherche</i> novelties, such as <i>Mignon</i>, and <i>The Star of the +North</i>, in addition to such genuine English operas as <i>The Rose of +Castille</i>.</p></div> + +<p>During the three seasons of our English Opera Company, we put on a great +number of operas of all schools, from <i>The Bohemian Girl</i> to <i>The Flying +Dutchman</i>. The former is pretty poor stuff—cheap and insipid—I never +liked to sing it. But—the houses it drew! People<a name="page_258" id="page_258"></a> loved it. I believe +there would be a large and sentimental public ready for it to-day. Its +extraneous matter, the two or three popular ballads that had been +introduced, formed a part of its attraction, perhaps. Our Devil's Hoof +in <i>The Bohemian Girl</i> was Ted Seguin who became quite famous in the +part. His wife Zelda Seguin was our contralto and they were among the +earliest people to travel with <i>The Beggar's Opera</i> and other primitive +performances. George A. Conly was our basso and a fine one. He was a +printer by trade and he had his first chance with us at the Globe +Theatre in Boston. He was our Deland, too, in <i>The Flying Dutchman</i>. +Eventually, he was drowned; and I gave a benefit for his widow. Maurice +Grau and Hess had gone to London to engage singers for my English Opera +Company and had selected, among others, Wilfred Morgan for first tenor +and Joseph Maas for second tenor. Morgan had been singing secondary +<i>rôles</i> for some time at Covent Garden. On our opening night of <i>Faust</i> +he gave out with a sore throat, and Maas took his place successfully. +William Carlton once told me that when he was just starting out he +bought the theatrical wardrobe of Alberto Lawrence, a baritone, and was +looking at himself in a mirror, dressed in one of his second costumes, +in the green room of the Academy of Music early during our English +season, when Morgan came up to him and said:</p> + +<p>"Are you going on in those old rags?"</p> + +<p>Carlton had to go on in them. The critics next day gave him a couple of +columns of praise; but Morgan, whose wardrobe was gorgeous, was a +complete failure in his <i>début</i>. Our manager had finally to tell him +that he could be second tenor or resign. In six weeks he was drawing +seventy dollars less salary than Carlton, who<a name="page_259" id="page_259"></a> was a baritone and a +beginner. Carlton said that about this time Wilfred Morgan came up to +him exclaiming,</p> + +<p>"Well, Bill, I wish I had your voice and you had my clothes!"</p> + +<p>William Carlton was a young Englishman, only twenty-three when he joined +us; but he was already married and had two children. When we were +rehearsing <i>The Bohemian Girl</i>, in the scene where the stolen daughter +is recognised and Carlton had to take me in his arms, he said:</p> + +<p>"I ought to kiss you here."</p> + +<p>"Not lower than <i>this</i>!" said I, pointing to my forehead. He was much +amused. Indeed, he was always laughing at my mother and me for our +prudish ways; and my not marrying was always a joke between us.</p> + +<p>"It's a sin," he declared once, when we were talking on a train, "a +woman who would make such a perfect wife!"</p> + +<p>"Louise," interrupted my mother sternly, "don't talk so much! You'll +tire your voice!"</p> + +<p>My good mother! She was always ruffling up like an indignant hen about +me. In one scene of another opera, I remember, the villain and I had +been playing rather more strenuously than usual and he caught my arm +with some force. I staggered a little as I came off the stage and my +mother flew at him.</p> + +<p>"Don't you dare touch my daughter so roughly," she cried, much annoyed.</p> + +<p>Mr. Carlton has paid me a nice tribute when writing of those days and of +me at that time. He has said:</p> + +<div class="blockquot"><p>I have the most grateful memory of the sympathetic assistance I +received from the gifted <i>prima donna</i> when I arrived in this +country under the management of Maurice Grau and C. D. Hess, who +were conducting the business<a name="page_260" id="page_260"></a> details of the Kellogg Grand Opera +Company. Like many Englishmen, I was quite unprepared for the +evidences of perfection which characterised the production of opera +in the United States and, as I had not yet attained my +twenty-fourth year, I was somewhat awed by the importance of the +<i>rôles</i> and the position I was imported to fulfil. It was in a +great measure due to the gracious help I received from Miss Kellogg +that, at my <i>début</i> at the Academy of Music, Philadelphia, as +Valentine in <i>Faust</i> to her Marguerite, I achieved a success which +led up to my renewing the engagement for four consecutive years.</p></div> + +<p>In putting on grand opera in English I had, in each case, the tradition +of two countries to contend with; but I endeavoured to secure some +uniformity of style and usually rehearsed them all myself, sitting at +the piano. The singers were, of course, hide-bound to the awful +translations that were institutional and to them inevitable. None of +them would have ever considered changing a word, even for the better. +The translation of <i>Mignon</i> was probably the most completely +revolutionary of the many translations and adaptations I indulged in. I +shall never forget one fearfully clumsy passage in <i>Trovatore</i>.</p> +<table border="0" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" summary="poetry"> +<tr><td align="left"><span style="margin-left: 0em;">"To the handle,</span></td></tr> +<tr><td align="left"><span style="margin-left: .25em;">To the handle,</span></td></tr> +<tr><td align="left"><span style="margin-left: .25em;">To the handle</span></td></tr> +<tr><td align="left"><span style="margin-left: .25em;">Strike the dagger!"</span></td></tr> +</table> + +<p>There were two modifications possible, either of which was vastly +preferable, and without actually changing a word.</p> + +<table border="0" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" summary="poetry"> +<tr><td align="left"><span style="margin-left: 0em;">"Strike the dagger,</span></td></tr> +<tr><td align="left"><span style="margin-left: 0.25em;">Strike the dagger,</span></td></tr> +<tr><td align="left"><span style="margin-left: 0.25em;">Strike the dagger</span></td></tr> +<tr><td align="left"><span style="margin-left: 0.25em;">To the handle!"</span></td></tr> +</table> +<p><a name="page_261" id="page_261"></a></p> + +<p class="nind">or, which I think was the better way,</p> + +<table border="0" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" summary="poetry"> +<tr><td align="left"><span style="margin-left: 0em;">"Strike the dagger</span></td></tr> +<tr><td align="left"><span style="margin-left: 0.25em;">To the handle,</span></td></tr> +<tr><td align="left"><span style="margin-left: 0.25em;">Strike the dagger</span></td></tr> +<tr><td align="left"><span style="margin-left: 0.25em;">To the handle!"</span></td></tr> +</table> + +<p class="nind">a simple and legitimate repetition of a phrase. This is a case in +illustration of the meaningless absurdity and unintelligibility of the +average libretto.</p> + +<p>Those were the days in which I devoutly appreciated my general sound +musical training. The old stand-bys, <i>Fra Diavolo</i>, <i>Trovatore</i>, and +<i>Martha</i> were all very well. Most singers had been reared on them from +their artistic infancy. But, for example, <i>The Marriage of Figaro</i> was +an innovation. To it I had to bring my best experience and judgment as +cultivated in our London productions; and we finally gave a very +creditable English performance of it. Then there were, besides, the new +operas that had to be incepted and created and toiled over:—<i>The +Talisman</i> and <i>Lily o'Killarney</i> among others. <i>The Talisman</i> by Balfe, +an opera of the Meyerbeerian school, was first produced at the Drury +Lane in London, with Nilsson, Campanini, Marie Roze, Rota, and others. +Our presentation of it was less pretentious, naturally, but we had an +excellent cast, with Joseph Maas as Sir Kenneth, William Carlton as +Cœur de Lion, Mme. Loveday as Queen Berengaria, and Charles Turner as +De Vaux. I was Edith Plantaganet. When the opera was first put on in +London, under the direction of Sir Jules Benedict, it was called <i>The +Knight of the Leopard</i>. Later, it was translated into Italian under the +title of <i>Il Talismano</i>, and from that finally re-translated by us and +given the name of Sir Walter Scott's work on which it was based. It was +not only<a name="page_262" id="page_262"></a> Balfe's one real grand opera, but was also his last important +work. <i>Lily o'Killarney</i>, by Sir Jules Benedict, was not a striking +novelty. It had a graceful duet for the basso and tenor, and one pretty +solo for the <i>prima donna</i>—"I'm Alone"—but, otherwise, it did not +amount to much. But we scored in it because of our good artistry. Our +company was a good one. Parepa Rosa did tremendous things with her +English opera <i>tournées</i>; but I honestly think our work was more +artistic as well as more painstaking. There were not many of us; but we +did our best and pulled together; and I was very happy in the whole +venture. Benedict's <i>Lily o'Killarney</i> was written particularly for me, +and was inspired by <i>Colleen Bawn</i>, Dion Boucicault's big London +success. I have always understood that Oxenford wrote the libretto of +that—a fine one as librettos go—but Grove's Dictionary says that +Boucicault helped him.</p> + +<p>Perhaps this is as good a place as any in which to mention Sir George +Grove and his dictionary. When I was in London I was told that young +Grove—he was not "Sir" then—was compiling a dictionary; and, not +having a very exalted idea of his ability, I am free to confess that, in +a measure, I snubbed him. In his copiously filled and padded dictionary, +he punished me by giving me less than half a column; considerably less +space than is devoted in the corresponding column to one Michael Kelly +"composer of wines and importer of music!" It is an accurate paragraph, +however, and he heaped coals of fire on my head by one passage that is +particularly suitable to quote in a chapter on English opera:</p> + +<div class="blockquot"><p>She organised an English troupe, herself superintending the +translation of the words, the <i>mise en scène</i>, the training<a name="page_263" id="page_263"></a> of the +singers and the rehearsals of the chorus. Such was her devotion to +the project that, in the winter of '74-'75, she sang no fewer than +one hundred and twenty-five nights. It is satisfactory to hear that +the scheme was successful. Miss Kellogg's musical gifts are +great.... She has a remarkable talent for business and is never so +happy as when she is doing a good or benevolent action.</p></div> + +<p>I have never been able to determine to my own satisfaction whether the +"remarkable talent for business" was intended as a compliment or not! +The one hundred and twenty-five record is quite correct, a number of +performances that tried my endurance to the utmost; but I loved all the +work. This particular venture seemed more completely my own than +anything on which I had yet embarked.</p> + +<p>We put on <i>The Flying Dutchman</i>, at the Academy of Music (New York), and +it was a tremendous undertaking. It was another case of not having any +traditions nor impressions to help us. No one knew anything about the +opera and the part of Senta was as unexplored a territory for me as that +of Marguerite had been. One thing I had particular difficulty in +learning how to handle and that was Wagner's trick of long pauses. There +is a passage almost immediately after the spinning song in <i>The Flying +Dutchman</i> during which Senta stands at the door and thinks about the +Flying Dutchman, preceding his appearance. Then he comes, and they stand +still and look at each other while a spell grows between them. She +recognises Vanderdecken as the original of the mysterious portrait; and +he is wondering whether she is the woman fated to save him by +self-sacrifice. The music, so far as Siegfried Behrens, my director at +the time, and I could see, had no meaning whatever. It was just a long, +intermittent mumble,<a name="page_264" id="page_264"></a> continuing for eighteen bars with one slight +interruption of thirds. I had not yet been entirely converted to +innovations such as this and did not fully appreciate the value of so +extreme a pause. I knew, of course, that repose added dignity; but this +seemed too much.</p> + +<p>"For heaven's sake, Behrens," said I, "what's the public going to do +while we stand there? Can we hold their interest for so long while +nothing is happening?"</p> + +<p>Behrens thought there might be someone at the German Theatre who had +heard the opera in Germany and who could, therefore, give us +suggestions; but no one could be found. Finally Behrens looked up +Wagner's own brochure on the subject of his operas and came to me, still +doubtful, but somewhat reassured.</p> + +<p>"Wagner says," he explained, "not to be disturbed by long intervals. If +both singers could stand absolutely still, this pause would hold the +public double the length of time."</p> + +<p>We tried to stand "absolutely still." It was an exceedingly difficult +thing to do. In <i>rôles</i> that have tense moments the whole body has to +hold the tension rigidly until the proper psychological instant for +emotional and physical relaxation. The public is very keen to feel this, +without knowing how or why. A drooping shoulder or a relaxed hand will +"let up" an entire situation. The first time I sang Senta it seemed +impossible to hold the pause until those eighteen bars were over. "I +have <i>got</i> to hold it! I have <i>got</i> to hold it!" I kept saying to +myself, tightening every muscle as if I were actually pulling on a wire +stretched between myself and the audience. I almost auto-hypnotized +myself; which probably helped me to understand the Norwegian girl's own +condition of auto-hypnotism! An inspiration led me to grasp the back of +a tall Dutch<a name="page_265" id="page_265"></a> chair on the stage. That chair helped me greatly and, as +affairs turned out, I held the audience quite as firmly as I held the +chair!</p> + +<p>Afterwards I learned the wonderful telling-power of these "waits" and +the great dignity that they lend to a scene. There is no hurry in +Wagner. His work is full of pauses and he has done much to give leisure +to the stage. When I was at Bayreuth—that most beautiful monument to +genius—I met many actors from the Théâtre Français who had journeyed +there, as to a Mecca, to study this leisurely stage effect among others.</p> + +<p>Our production was a fair one but not elaborate. We had, I remember, a +very good ship, but there were many shortcomings. There is supposed to +be a transfiguration scene at the end in which Senta is taken up to +heaven; but this was beyond us and <i>I</i> was never thus rewarded for my +devotion to an ideal! I liked Senta's clothes and make-up. I used to +wear a dark green skirt, shining chains, and a wonderful little apron, +long and of white woollen. For hair, I wore Marguerite's wig arranged +differently. I should like to be able to put on a production of <i>Die +Fliegende Holländer</i> now! There is just one artist, and only one, whom I +would have play the Dutchman—and that is Renaud, for the reason, +principally, that he would have the necessary repose for the part. I had +understudies as a matter of course. One of them was wall-eyed; and, on +an occasion when I was ill, she essayed Senta. William Carlton, was, as +usual, our Dutchman, and he had not been previously warned of Senta's +infirmity. He came upon it so unexpectedly, indeed, and it was so +startling to him, that he sang the whole opera without looking at her +for fear that he would break down!<a name="page_266" id="page_266"></a></p> + +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XXV" id="CHAPTER_XXV"></a>CHAPTER XXV<br /><br /> +ENGLISH OPERA (<i>Continued</i>)</h2> + +<p class="nind"><span class="letra">N</span>O account of our English Opera would be complete without mention of +Mike. He was an Irish lad with all the wit of his race, and his head was +of a particularly classic type. He was only sixteen when he joined us, +but he became an institution, and I kept track of him for years +afterwards. His duties were somewhat arbitrary, and chiefly consisted of +calling at the dressing-room of the chorus each night after the opera +with a basket to collect the costumes. Beyond this, his principal +occupation was watching my scenes and generally pervading the +performances with genuine interest. He particularly favoured the third +act of <i>Faust</i>, I remember; and absolutely considered himself a part of +my career, constantly making use of the phrase "Me and Miss Kellogg."</p> + +<p>One of the operas we gave in English was my old friend <i>The Star of the +North</i>. It was quite as much a success in English as it had been in the +original. We chose it for our <i>gala</i> performance in Washington when the +Centennial was celebrated, and my good friends, President and Mrs. +Grant, were in the audience. The King of Hawaii was also present, with +his suite, and came behind the scenes and paid me extravagant +compliments. His Hawaiian Majesty sent me lovely heliotropes, I +remember,—my favourite flower and my<a name="page_267" id="page_267"></a> favourite perfume. At one +performance of <i>The Star of the North</i> at a matinée in Booth's Theatre, +New York, there occurred an incident that was reminiscent of my London +experience with Sir Michael Costa's orchestra. It was in the third act, +the camp scene. There is a quartette by Peter, Danilowitz and two +<i>vivandières</i> almost without accompaniment in the tent on the stage, and +I, as Catherine, had to take up the note they left and begin a solo at +its close. The orchestra was supposed to chime in with me, a simple +enough matter to do if they had not fallen from the key. It is +surprising how relative one's pitch is when suddenly appealed to. Even a +very trained ear will often go astray when some one gives it a wrong +keynote. Music more than almost any other art is dependent; every tone +hangs on other tones. That particular quartette was built on a musical +phrase begun by one of the sopranos and repeated by each. She started on +the key. The mezzo took it up a shade flat. The tenor, taking the phrase +from the mezzo, dropped a little more, and when the basso got through +with it, they were a full semitone lower. Had I taken my <i>attaque</i> from +their pitch, imagine the situation when the orchestra came in! My heart +sank as I saw ahead of us the inevitable discord. It came to the last +note. I allowed a half-second of silence to obliterate their false +pitch. Then I <i>concentrated</i>—and took up my solo in the <i>original and +correct key</i>. That "absolute pitch" again! Behrens expressed his +amazement after the curtain fell.</p> + +<p>The company, after that, was never tired of experimenting with my gift. +It became quite a joke with them to cry out suddenly, at any sort of +sound—a whistle, or a bell:</p> + +<p>"Now, what note is that? What key was that in, Miss Kellogg?"<a name="page_268" id="page_268"></a></p> + +<p>Most of our travelling on these big western tours of opera was very +tiresome, although we did it as easily as we could and often had special +cars put at our disposal by railroad directors. We were still looked +upon as a species of circus and the townspeople of the places we passed +through used to come out in throngs at the stations. I have said so much +about the poor hotels encountered at various times while on the road +that I feel I ought to mention the disastrous effect produced once by a +really good hotel. It was at the end of our first English Opera season +and, in spite of the fact that we were all worn out with our +experiences, we proceeded to give an auxiliary concert trip. We had a +special sleeper in which, naturally, no one slept much; and by the time +we reached Wilkesbarre we were even more exhausted. The hotel happened +to be a good one, the rooms were quiet, and the beds comfortable. Every +one of us went promptly to bed, not having to sing until the next night, +and William Carlton left word at the office that he was going to sleep: +"and don't call me unless there's a fire!" he said. In strict accordance +with these instructions nobody did call him and he slept twenty-four +hours. When he awoke it was time to go to the theatre for the +performance and—he found he couldn't sing! He had slept so much that +his circulation had become sluggish and he was as hoarse as a crow. +Consequently, we had to change the programme at the last moment.</p> + +<p>Carlton, like most nervous people, was very sensitive and easily put out +of voice, even when he had not slept twenty-four consecutive hours. Once +in <i>Trovatore</i> he was seized with a sharp neuralgic pain in his eyes +just as he was beginning to sing "Il Balen" and we had to stop in the +middle of it. During this same performance, an<a name="page_269" id="page_269"></a> unlucky one, Wilfred +Morgan, who was Manrico, made both himself and me ridiculous. In the +<i>finale</i> of the first act of the opera, the Count and Manrico, rivals +for the love of Leonora, draw their swords and are about to attack each +other, when Leonora interposes and has to recline on the shoulder of +Manrico, at which the attack of the Count ceases. Morgan was burly of +build and awkward of movement and, for some reason, failed to support +me, and we both fell heavily to the floor. It is so easy to turn a +serious dramatic situation into ridicule that, really, it was very +decent indeed of our audience to applaud the <i>contretemps</i> instead of +laughing.</p> + +<p>Ryloff, an eccentric Belgian, was our musical director for a short time. +He was exceedingly fond of beer and used to drink it morning, noon, and +night,—especially night. Even our rehearsals were not sacred from his +thirst. In the middle of one of our full dress rehearsals he suddenly +stopped the orchestra, laid down his baton, and said to the men:</p> + +<p>"Boys, I <i>must</i> have some beer!"</p> + +<p>Then he got up and deliberately went off to a nearby saloon while we +awaited his good pleasure.</p> + +<p>I have previously mentioned what a handsome and dashing Fra Diavolo +Theodore Habelmann was, and naturally other singers with whom I sang the +opera later have suffered by comparison. In discussing the point with a +young girl cousin who was travelling with me, we once agreed, I +remember, that it was a great pity no one could ever look the part like +our dear old Habelmann. Castle was doing it just then, and doing it very +well except for his clothes and general make-up. But he was so extremely +sensitive and yet, in some ways, so opinionated, that it was impossible +to tell him<a name="page_270" id="page_270"></a> plainly that he did not look well in the part. At last, my +cousin conceived the brilliant scheme of writing him an anonymous +letter, supposed to be from some feminine admirer, telling him how +splendid and wonderful and irresistible he was, but also suggesting how +he could make himself even more fascinating. A description of +Habelmann's appearance followed and, to our great satisfaction, our +innocent little plot worked to a charm. Castle bought a new costume +immediately and strutted about in it as pleased as Punch. He really did +present a much more satisfactory appearance, which was a comfort to me, +as it is really so deplorably disillusioning to see a man looking frumpy +and unattractive while he is singing a gallant song like:</p> + +<p class="figcenter"> +<a href="images/ill_pg_270_lg.png"> +<img src="images/ill_pg_270_sml.png" width="550" height="190" alt="Musical notation; Proud-ly and wide ... my stand-ard + +flies O'er dar-ing heads, a no-ble band!" title="musical notation" /></a> +</p> + +<p>Naturally these tours brought me all manner of adventures that I have +long since forgotten—little incidents "along the road" and meetings +with famous personages. Among them stand out two experiences, one grave +and one gay. The former was an occasion when I went behind the scenes +during a performance of <i>Henry VIII</i> to see dear Miss Cushman (it must +have been in the early seventies, but I do not know the exact date), who +was playing Queen Katherine. She asked me if I would be kind enough to +sing the solo for her. I was very glad to be able to do so, of course, +and so, on the spur of the moment, complied.<a name="page_271" id="page_271"></a> I have wondered since how +many people in front ever knew that it was I who sang <i>Angels Ever +Bright and Fair</i> off stage, during the scene in which the poor, +wonderful Queen was dying! The other experience of these days which I +treasure was my meeting with Eugene Field. It was in St. Louis, where +Field was a reporter on one of the daily papers. He came up to the old +Lindell Hotel to interview me; but that was something I would <i>not</i> +do—give interviews to the press—so my mother went down to the +reception room with her sternest air to dismiss him. She found the +waiting young man very mild-mannered and pleasant, but she said to him +icily:</p> + +<p>"My daughter never sees newspaper men."</p> + +<p>"Oh," said he, looking surprised, "I'm a singer and I thought Miss +Kellogg might help me. I want to have my voice trained." (This is the +phrase used generally by applicants for such favours.) Mother looked at +the young man suspiciously and pointed to the piano.</p> + +<p>"Sing something," she commanded.</p> + +<p>Field obediently sat down at the instrument and sang several songs. He +had a pleasing voice and an expressive style of singing, and my mother +promptly sent for me. We spent some time with him in consequence, +singing, playing, and talking. It was an excellent "beat" for his paper, +and neither my mother nor I bore him any malice, we had liked him so +much, when we read the interview next day. After that he came to see me +whenever I sang where he happened to be and we always had a laugh over +his "interview" with me—the only one, by the way, obtained by any +reporter in St. Louis.</p> + +<p>On one concert tour—a little before the English<a name="page_272" id="page_272"></a> Opera venture—we had +arrived late one afternoon in Toledo where the other members of the +company were awaiting me. Petrelli, the baritone, met me at the train +and said immediately:</p> + +<p>"There is a strange-looking girl at the hotel waiting for you to hear +her sing."</p> + +<p>"Oh, dear," I exclaimed, "another one to tell that she hasn't any +ability!"</p> + +<p>"She's <i>very</i> queer looking," Petrelli assured me.</p> + +<p>As I went to my supper I caught a glimpse of a very unattractive person +and decided that Petrelli was right. She was exceedingly plain and +colourless, and had a large turned-up nose. After supper, I went to my +room to dress, as I usually did when on tour, for the theatre +dressing-rooms were impossible, and presently there was a knock at the +door and the girl presented herself.</p> + +<p>She was poorly clad. She owned no warm coat, no rubbers, no proper +clothing of any sort. I questioned her and she told me a pathetic tale +of privation and struggle. She lived by travelling about from one hotel +to the next, singing in the public parlour when the manager would permit +it, accompanying herself upon her guitar, and passing around a plate or +a hat afterwards to collect such small change as she could.</p> + +<p>"I sang last night here," she told me, "and the manager of the hotel +collected eleven dollars. That's all I've got—and I don't suppose he'll +let me have much of that!"</p> + +<p>Of course I, who had been so protected, was horrified by all this. I +could not understand how a girl could succeed in doing that kind of +thing. She told me, furthermore, that she took care of her mother, +brothers, and sisters.<a name="page_273" id="page_273"></a></p> + +<p>"I must go to the post-office now and see if there's a letter from +mother!" she exclaimed presently, jumping up. It was pouring rain +outside.</p> + +<p>"Show me your feet!" I said.</p> + +<p>She grinned ruefully as she exhibited her shoes, but she was off the +next moment in search of her letter. When she came back to the hotel, I +got hold of her again, gave her some clothes, and took her to the +concert in my carriage. After I had sung my first song she rushed up to +me.</p> + +<p>"Let me look down your throat," she cried excitedly, "I've got to see +where it all comes from!"</p> + +<p>After the concert we made her sing for us and our accompanist played for +her. She asked me frankly if I thought she could make her living by her +voice and I said yes. Her poverty and her desire to get on naturally +appealed to me, and I was instrumental in raising a subscription for her +so that she could come East. My mother immediately saw the hotel +proprietor and arranged that what money he had collected the night +before should be turned over to her. It has been said that I am +responsible for Emma Abbott's career upon the operatic stage, but I may +be pardoned if I deny the allegation. My idea was that she intended to +sing in churches, and I believe she did so when she first came to New +York. She was the one girl in ten thousand who was really worth helping, +and of course my mother and I helped her. When we returned from my +concert tour, I introduced her to people and saw that she was properly +looked out for. And she became, as every one knows, highly successful in +opera—appearing in many of my own <i>rôles</i>. In a year's time from when I +first met her, Emma Abbott was self-supporting. She was a girl of +ability and I am glad that I started her off fairly,<a name="page_274" id="page_274"></a> although, as a +matter of fact, she would have got on anyway, whether I had done +anything for her or not. Her way to success might have been a longer +way, unaided, but she would have succeeded. She was eaten up with +ambition. Yet there is much to respect in such a dogged determination to +succeed. Of course, she was never particularly grateful to me. Of all +the girls I have helped—and there have been many—only one has ever +been really grateful, and she was the one for whom I did the least. Emma +wrote me a flowery letter once, full of such sentences as "when the +great <i>Prima Donna</i> shined on me," and "I was almost in heaven, and I +can remember just how you sang and looked," and "never can I forget all +your goodness to me." But in the little ways that count she never +actually evinced the least appreciation. Whenever we were in any way +pitted against each other, she showed herself jealous and ungenerous. +She made enemies in general by her lack of tact, and never could get on +in London, for instance, although in her day the feeling there for +American singers was becoming most kindly.</p> + +<p>Emma Abbott did appalling things with her art, of which one of the +mildest was the introduction into <i>Faust</i> of the hymn <i>Nearer My God to +Thee</i>! It was in Italy that she did it, too. I believe she introduced it +to please the Americans in the audience, many of whom applauded, +although the Italians pointedly did not. And yet she was always trying +to "purify" the stage and librettos! I have always felt about Emma +Abbott that she had <i>too much</i> force of character. Another thing that I +never liked about her was the manner in which she puffed her own +successes. She was reported to have made five times more than she +actually did; but, at that, her earnings were considerable, for she +would<a name="page_275" id="page_275"></a> sacrifice much—except the character—to money-getting. Indeed, +she was a very fine business woman.</p> + +<p>I have spoken about George Conly's tragic death by drowning and of the +benefit the Kellogg-Hess English Opera Company gave for his widow. Conly +had also sung with Emma Abbott and, when the benefit was given, she and +I appeared on the same programme. She knew my baritone, Carlton, and +sent for him before the performance. She explained that she wanted him +to appear on the bill with her in <i>Maritana</i> and, also, to see that all +donations from my friends and colleagues were sent to her, so that her +collection should be larger than mine. Carlton explained to her that he +was singing with Miss Kellogg and so would send any money that he could +collect to her. It seems incredible that any one could do so small an +action, and I can only consider it one of many little attempts to be +spiteful and to show me that my erstwhile <i>protégée</i> was now at the "top +of the ladder."</p> + +<p>Her thirst for profits finally was the indirect means of her death. When +Utah was still a territory, the town of Ogden, where many travelling +companies gave concerts, was very primitive. The concert hall had no +dressing-room and was cold and draughty. I always refused outright to +sing in such theatres, or else dressed in my hotel and drove to the +concert warmly wrapped up. Emma Abbott was warned that the stage in the +concert hall of the town of Ogden was bitterly cold. The house had sold +well, however, and the receipts were considerable. Emma dressed in an +improvised screened-off dressing-room, and, having a severe cold to +begin with, she caught more on that occasion, and suddenly developed a +serious case of pneumonia from which she died, a victim to her own +indiscretion.<a name="page_276" id="page_276"></a></p> + +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XXVI" id="CHAPTER_XXVI"></a>CHAPTER XXVI<br /><br /> +AMATEURS—AND OTHERS</h2> + +<p class="nind"><span class="letra">I</span>N the seventies New York was interesting musically, chiefly because of +its amateurs. This sounds something like a paradox, but at that time New +York had a collection of musical amateurs who were almost as highly +cultivated as professionals. It was a set that was extremely interesting +and quite unique; and which bridged in a wonderful way the traditional +gulf between art and society.</p> + +<p>Those of us who were fortunate enough to know New York then look about +us with wonder and amazement now. It seems, with our standards of an +earlier generation, as if there were no true social life to-day, just as +there are left no great social leaders. As for music—but perhaps it +behooves a retired <i>prima donna</i> to be discreet in making comparisons.</p> + +<p>Mrs. Peter Ronalds; Mrs. Samuel Barlow; her daughter Elsie, who became +Mrs. Stephen Henry Olin; May Callender; Minnie Parker—the granddaughter +of Mrs. Hill and later the wife of M. de Neufville;—these and many +others were the amateurs who combined music and society in a manner +worthy of the great French hostesses and originators of <i>salons</i>. Mrs. +Barlow was in advance of everybody in patronising music. She was +cultivated and artistic, had travelled a great deal abroad, and had +acquired a great many charming<a name="page_277" id="page_277"></a> foreign graces in addition to her own +good American brains and breeding, and her fine natural social tact. +When I returned to New York after a sojourn on the other side, she came +to see me one day, and said:</p> + +<p>"Louise, you've been away so much you don't know what our amateurs are +doing. I want you to come to my house to-night and hear them sing."</p> + +<p>Like all professionals, I was a bit inclined to turn up my nose at the +very word "amateur," but of course I went to Mrs. Barlow's that evening, +and I have rarely spent a more enjoyable three hours. Elsie Barlow sang +delightfully. She had a limited voice, but an unusual musical +intelligence; I have seldom heard a public singer give a piece of music +a more delicate and discriminating interpretation. Then Miss May +Callender sang "Nobile Signor" from the <i>Huguenots</i>, and astonished me +with her artistic rendering of that <i>aria</i>. Miss Callender could have +easily been an opera singer, and a distinguished one, if she had so +chosen. Eugene Oudin, a Southern baritone, also sang with charming +effect. Minnie Parker, an eminent connoisseur in music, had her turn. +She sang "Bel Raggio" from <i>Semiramide</i> with fine execution and all the +Rossini traditions. And I must not forget to mention Fanny Reed, Mrs. +Paran Stevens's sister, who sang very agreeably an <i>aria</i> from <i>Il +Barbiere</i>. Altogether it was a most startling and illuminating evening, +and I was proud of my country and of a society that could produce such +amateurs.</p> + +<p>Mrs. Peter Ronalds was another charming singer of that group; as was, +also, Mrs. Moulton, who was Lillie Greenough before her marriage. Both +had delightful and well cultivated voices. Mrs. Moulton had studied +abroad, but for the most part the amateurs of that day were purely +American products.<a name="page_278" id="page_278"></a></p> + +<p>I often visited Mrs. Barlow at her country place at Glen Cove, L. I. She +was the most tactful of hostesses, and in her house there was no fuss or +formality, nothing but kind geniality and courtesy. She was the first +hostess in the United States to ask her women guests to bring their +maids; and she never once has asked me to sing when I was there. I did +sing, of course, but she was too well-bred to let me feel under the +slightest obligation. American hostesses are certainly sometimes very +odd in this connection. I have mentioned Fanny Reed and Mrs. Stevens in +Boston, and the time I had to play "Tommy Tucker" and sing for my +supper; and I am now reminded of another occasion even more +unpardonable, one that made me indirectly quite a bit of trouble.</p> + +<p>Once upon a time when I was visiting in Chicago, and was being made much +of as an American <i>prima donna</i> freshly arrived from European triumphs, +some old friends of my father gave me a reception. I had been for nearly +fourteen months abroad, and had come back with the associations and +manners of the best people of the older countries: and this I +particularly mention to suggest what a shock my treatment was to me.</p> + +<p>On the day of the reception I had one of my worst sick headaches. I did +not want to go, naturally, but the husband of the woman giving the +reception called for me and begged that I would show myself there, if +only for a few moments. My mother also urged me to make an effort and +go. I made it—and went. In view of what afterwards occurred, I want to +say that my costume was a black velvet gown created by Worth, with a +heavy, long, handsome coat and a black velvet hat. When I reached the +house I was so ill that I<a name="page_279" id="page_279"></a> could not stand at the door with my hostess +to receive the guests, but remained seated, hoping that I would not +groan aloud with the throbbing of my head.</p> + +<p>The ladies began arriving, and nearly every one of them was in full +evening dress—<i>in the afternoon</i>! Mrs. Marshall Field, I remember, came +in an elaborate point lace shawl, and no hat.</p> + +<p>I had not been there half an hour before I was asked to sing! I had +brought no music, there was no accompanist, and I was so dizzy that I +could hardly see the keys of the piano, yet, as the request was not +altogether the fault of my hostess, I did my best, playing some sort of +an accompaniment and singing something—very badly, I imagine. Then I +went home and to bed.</p> + +<p>That episode was served up to me for eight years. I never went to +Chicago without reading some reference to it in the newspapers, and my +friends have told me that years later it was still discussed with +bitterness. It was stated that I was "ungracious," "rude," and that I +had "insulted the guests by my plain street attire" (shade of the great +Worth!); that I only sang once and then with no attempt to do my best; +that I did not eat the elaborate refreshments; did not rise from my +chair when people were presented to me; and left the house inside an +hour, although the reception was given for me. The bitterest attack was +an article printed in one of the morning papers, an article written by a +woman who had been among the guests. I never answered that or any other +of the attacks because the host and hostess were old friends and felt +very badly about the affair; but I have a memory of Chicago that will go +with me to the grave. It was very different with the New York hostesses +of whom Mrs. Barlow, Mrs. Ronalds, and Mrs. Gilder were the +representatives.<a name="page_280" id="page_280"></a> By them a singer was treated as a little more, not +less, than an ordinary human being!</p> + +<p>O you unfortunate people of a newer day who have not the memory of that +enchanting meeting-ground in East Fifteenth Street:—the delightful +Gilder studio, the rebuilding of which from a carriage house into a +studio-home was about the first piece of architectural work done by +Stanford White. There was one big, beautiful room, drawing-room and +sitting-room combined, with a fine fireplace in it. Many a time have I +done some scene from an opera there, in the firelight, to a sympathetic +few. Everybody went to the Richard Watson Gilders'—at least, everybody +who was worth while. They were in New York already the power that they +remained for so many years. Some pedantic enthusiast once said of them +that, "The Gilders were empowered by divine right to put the <i>cachet</i> of +recognition upon distinction."</p> + +<p>Miss Jeannette Gilder came into my life as long ago as 1869. I was +singing in a concert in Newark and she was in the wings, listening to my +first song. My mother and my maid were near her and, when I came off the +stage, as we were trying to find a certain song for an <i>encore</i>, the +pile of music fell at her feet. Promptly the tall young stranger said:</p> + +<p>"Please let me hold them for you."</p> + +<p>Her whole personality expressed a species of beaming admiration. I +looked at her critically; and from this small service began our +friendship.</p> + +<p>The Gilders were then living in Newark. The father, who was a Chaplain +in the 40th New York Volunteers, died during the Civil War. His sons, +Richard Watson Gilder and William H. Gilder, were also soldiers in the +Civil War. The Richard Watson<a name="page_281" id="page_281"></a> Gilders were married in 1874. Mrs. Gilder +was Miss Helena de Kay, granddaughter of Joseph Rodman Drake, who was +the author of <i>The Culprit Fay</i>.</p> + +<p>I met many interesting people at the Fifteenth Street studio. Helen Hunt +Jackson, I remember well. She was then Mrs. Hunt, long before she had +married Mr. Jackson or had written <i>Ramona</i>. She was a most pleasing +personality, just stout enough to be genuinely genial. And Mrs. Frances +Hodgson Burnett I first met there, about the time her <i>Lass o'Lowrie's</i> +appeared, a story we all thought most impressive. George Cable was +discovered by the Gilders, like so many other literary lights, and he +and I used to sing Creole melodies before their big fireplace. His voice +was queer and light, without colour, but correct and well in tune. He +had only one bit of colour in him and that—the poetry of his nature—he +gave freely and exquisitely in his tales of Creole life. At a much later +time I saw something of the old French Quarter of New Orleans of which +he wrote, the whole spirit of which was so lovely. I also first met John +Alexander at the Gilders' after he came back from Paris; and John La +Farge, who brought there with him Okakura, the Japanese art connoisseur. +That was when I first met Okakura; and on the same occasion he was +introduced to Modjeska, she and I being the first stage people he had +ever met socially.</p> + +<p>Later, in '79-'80, I saw a good deal of the Gilders in Paris, where they +had a studio in the Quartier Latin. At that time, Mr. Gilder arranged +for Millet's autobiography which first made him widely known in America; +and in their Paris studio I met Sargent and Bastien Le Page and many +other notables. I recall how becomingly Rodman Gilder—then three or +four years old—was always dressed, in "Little Lord Fauntleroy" fashion<a name="page_282" id="page_282"></a> +long before the days of his young lordship. It was at this same period +that I went to Fontainebleau to study the Barbizon School and met the +son of Millet, who was trying to paint and never succeeded.</p> + +<p>Speaking of the Gilders reminds me, albeit indirectly, of Helena +Modjeska, whom I first saw in Sacramento, playing <i>Adrienne Lecouvreur</i>. +I was simply enchanted and thought I had never seen such delicate and +yet such forcible acting. One reason why I was so greatly impressed was +that I had acquired the foreign standard of acting, and had been much +disturbed when I came home to find such lack of elegance and ease upon +the stage. She had the foreign manner—the grace and, at the same time, +the authority of the great French and German players; and it seemed to +me that she ought to be heard by the big critics. So I wrote home to +Jeannette Gilder in New York an enthusiastic account of this actress who +was being wasted on the Sacramento Valley. The public-spirited efforts +of the Gilders in promoting anything artistic was so well and so long +known that it is almost unnecessary to add that they interested +themselves in the Polish artist and secured for her an opportunity to +play in the East. She came, saw, and conquered; and I shall always feel, +therefore, that I was definitely instrumental in launching Modjeska in +theatrical New York.</p> + +<p>"Didn't I tell you so?" I said to Jeannette Gilder. There was always +something very odd to me about Helena Modjeska. I never liked her +personally half as much as I did as an actress. But she certainly was a +wonderful actress. I once met John McCullough and talked with him about +Modjeska, and he told me that she first acted in Polish to his +English—Ophelia to his Hamlet—out West somewhere, I think it was in +San<a name="page_283" id="page_283"></a> Francisco. He said that he had been the first to urge her to learn +English, and he was most enthusiastic about the wonderful effect she +created even at that early time. As I had seen her in Sacramento during, +approximately, the same period, I could discuss her with him +sympathetically and intelligently.</p> + +<p>Although I never personally liked Helena Modjeska, I have liked as well +as known many stage folk and have had, first and last, many real friends +among them. It was my good fortune to know the elder Salvini in America. +He happened to be stopping at the same hotel. He looked like a +successful farmer; a very plain man,—very. He told me, among other +interesting things, that no matter how small his part happened to be, he +always played each succeeding act in a stronger colour, maintaining a +steady <i>crescendo</i>, so that the last impression of all was the climax. I +remember him in Othello, particularly his delicate and lovely <i>silent</i> +acting. When Desdémona came in and told the court how he had won her, +Salvini only looked at her and spoke but the one word: "Desdémona!"—but +the way he said it "made the tears rise in your heart and gather to your +eyes."</p> + +<p>Irving and Terry, always among my close friends, I first met in London, +at the McHenrys' house in Holland Park. At that time the McHenrys' +Sunday night dinners were an institution. Later, when they came to +America, I saw a great deal of them; and I remember Ellen Terry saying +once, after a luncheon given by me at Delmonico's, "What a splendid +woman Jeannette Gilder is! You know—" and she gave me a rueful +glance—"I am <i>always</i> wrong about men,—but seldom about women!"</p> + +<p>Dear Ellen Terry! She has always been the freshest,<a name="page_284" id="page_284"></a> the most wholesome, +and the most spontaneous personality on the stage: a sweet and candid +woman, with a sound, warm heart and a great genius. At Lady Macmillan's +a number of people, most of them literary, were discussing that deadly +worthy and respectable actress Madge Robertson—Mrs. Kendall. The morals +of stage people was the subject, and Mrs. Kendall was cited as an +example of propriety. One of the women present spoke up from her corner:</p> + +<p>"Well," said she, "all I can say is that if I were giving a party for +young girls I would steer very clear of Mrs. Kendall and ask Miss Terry +instead. The Kendall lady does nothing but tell objectionable stories +that lead to the glorification of her own purity, but you will never in +a million years hear an indelicate word from the lips of Ellen Terry!"</p> + +<p>The only complaint Henry Irving had to make against New York was that he +"had no one to play with." He insisted, and quite justly, too, that New +York had no leisure class: that cultivated Bohemia, the playground for +people of intellectual tastes and varied interests, did not exist in New +York. He used to say that after the theatre, and after supper, he could +not find anybody at his club who would discuss with him either modern +drama or the old dramatic traditions; or give him any exchange of ideas +or intelligent comradeship.</p> + +<p class="figcenter"> +<a href="images/ellen_terry_lg.jpg"> +<img src="images/ellen_terry_sml.jpg" width="377" height="550" alt="Ellen Terry + +From a photograph by Sarony" title="" /></a> +<br /> +<span class="caption"><b>Ellen Terry</b><br /> + +From a photograph by Sarony</span> +</p> + +<p>He and I had many delightful talks, and I wish now that I had made notes +of the things he told me about stagecraft. He had a great deal to say +about stage lighting, a subject he was for ever studying and about which +he was always experimenting. It was his idea to do away with shadows +upon the stage, and he finally accomplished his effect by lighting the +wings<a name="page_285" id="page_285"></a> very brilliantly. Until his radical reforms in this direction +the theatres always used to be full of grotesque masses of light and +shade. To-day the art of lighting may be said to have reached +perfection.</p> + +<p>One of the most interesting things about Henry Irving was the way in +which he made use of the smallest trifles that might aid him in getting +his effects. He knew perfectly his own limitations, and was always +seeking to compensate for them. For example, he was utterly lacking in +any musical sense; like Dr. Johnson, he did not even possess an +appreciation of sweet sounds, and did not care to go to either concerts +or operas. But he knew how important music was in the theatre, and he +knew instinctively—with that extraordinary stage-sense of his—what +would appeal to an audience, even if it did not appeal to him. So, if he +went anywhere and heard a melody or sequence of chords that he thought +might fit in somewhere, he had it noted down at once, and collected bits +of music in this way wherever he went. Sometime, he felt, the need for +that particular musical phrase would arrive in some production he was +putting on, and he would be ready with it. That was a wonderful thing +about Irving—he was always prepared.</p> + +<p>Speaking of Irving and his statement about the lack of a cultivated +leisure class in New York, reminds me of the Vanderbilts, who were +shining examples of this very lack, for they were immensely wealthy and +yet did not half understand, at that time, the possibilities of wealth. +William H. Vanderbilt was always my very good friend. His father, +Cornelius, the founder of the family, used to say of him that "Bill +hadn't sense enough to make money himself—he had to have it left to +him!" The old man was wont to add, "Bill's no<a name="page_286" id="page_286"></a> good anyway!" The +Vanderbilts were plain people in those days, but had the kindest hearts. +"Bill" took a course in practical railroading, filling the position of +conductor on the Hudson River Railroad, from which "job" he had just +been promoted when I first knew him. He did turn out to be some "good" +in spite of his father's pessimistic predictions.</p> + +<p>My mother and I spent many summers at "Clarehurst," my country home at +Cold Spring on the Hudson. The Vanderbilts' railroad, the New York +Central, ran through Cold Spring, so that my Christmas present from +William H. Vanderbilt each year was an annual pass. He began sending it +to me alone, and then included my mother, until it became a regular +institution. We saw something of Mr. and Mrs. Vanderbilt at Saratoga +also, which was then a fashionable resort, before Newport supplanted it +with a higher standard of formality and extravagance. I remember I once +started to ask William H. Vanderbilt's advice about investing some +money.</p> + +<p>"You may know of some good security—" I began.</p> + +<p>"I don't! I don't!" he exclaimed with heat.</p> + +<p>Then he shook his finger at me impressively, saying:</p> + +<p>"Let me tell you something that my father always said, and don't you +ever forget it. He said that 'it takes a smart man to make money, but a +<i>damned sight smarter one to keep it</i>!'"</p> + +<p>My place at Cold Spring was where I went to rest between seasons, a +lovely place with the wind off the Hudson River, and gorgeous oak trees +all about. When the acorns dropped on the tin roof of the veranda in the +dead of night they made an alarming noise like tiny ghostly footsteps.</p> + +<p>One day when I was off on an herb-hunting expedition,<a name="page_287" id="page_287"></a> some highwaymen +tried to stop my carriage, and that was the beginning of troublous times +at Cold Spring. It developed that a band of robbers was operating in our +neighbourhood, with headquarters in a cave on Storm King Mountain, just +opposite us. They made a specialty of robbing trains, and were led by a +small man with such little feet that his footprints were easily enough +traced;—traced, but not easily caught up with! He never was caught, I +believe. But he, or his followers, skulked about our place; and we were +alarmed enough to provide ourselves with pistols. That was when I +learned to shoot, and I used to have shooting parties for target +practice. My father would prowl about after dark, firing off his pistol +whenever he heard a suspicious sound, so that, for a time, what with +acorns and pistols, the nights were somewhat disturbed.</p> + +<p>During the summers I drove all over the country and had great fun +stopping my pony—he was a dear pony, too,—and rambling about picking +flowers. I never passed a spring without stopping to drink from it. I've +always had a passion for woods and brooks; and was the enterprising one +of the family when it came to exploring new roads. Of the beaten track I +can stand only just so much; then my spirit rises in rebellion. I love a +cowpath.</p> + +<p>I used to be an adept, too, at finding flag-root, which was "so good to +put in your handkerchief to take to church"! (We carried our +handkerchiefs in our hands in those days.) Or dill, or fresh fennel, "to +chew through the long service"! Now the dill flavour is called caraway +seed; but it isn't the same, or doesn't seem so. And there was fresh, +sweet, black birch! Could anything be more delicious than the taste of +black birch? The<a name="page_288" id="page_288"></a> present generation, with its tea-rooms and soda-water +fountains, does not know the refreshment of those delicacies prepared by +Nature herself. I feel sure that John Burroughs appreciates black birch, +being, as he is, one of the survivals of the fittest!<a name="page_289" id="page_289"></a></p> + +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XXVII" id="CHAPTER_XXVII"></a>CHAPTER XXVII<br /><br /> +"THE THREE GRACES"</h2> + +<p class="nind"><span class="letra">I</span>N 1877, I embarked upon a venture that was destined, in spite of much +success, to be one of the most unpleasant experiences of my professional +career. Max Strakosch and Colonel Mapleson, the younger—Henry +Mapleson—organised a Triple-Star Tour all over America, the three being +Marie Roze, Annie Louise Cary, and Clara Louise Kellogg. The press +called us "The Three Graces" and wrote much fulsome nonsense about +"three pure and irreproachable women appearing together upon the +operatic stage, etc." The classification was one I did not care for. +Here, after many intervening years, I enter and put on record my +protest. At the time it all served as advertising to boom the tour and, +as it was most of it arranged for by Mapleson himself, I had to let it +go by in dignified silence.</p> + +<p>Nor was Henry Mapleson any better than he should have been either, in +his personal life or in his business relations, as his wives and I have +reason to know. I say "wives" advisedly, for he had several. Marie Roze +was never really married to him but, as he called her Mrs. Mapleson, she +ought to be counted among the number. At the time of our "Three-Star +Tour," she was playing the <i>rôle</i> of Mapleson's wife and finding it +somewhat perilous. She was a mild and gentle woman,<a name="page_290" id="page_290"></a> very sweet-natured +and docile and singularly stupid, frequently incurring her managerial +"husband's" rage by doing things that he thought were impolitic, for he +had always to manage every effect. She seldom complained of his +treatment but nobody could know them without being sorry for her. +Previous to this relation with Mapleson, Marie Roze had married an +exceedingly fine man, a young American singer of distinction, who died +soon after the marriage. She had two sons, one of whom, Raymond Roze, +passed himself off as her nephew for years. I believe he is a musical +director of position and success in London at the present day. Henry +Mapleson did not inherit any of the strong points of his father, Col. J. +M. Mapleson of London, who really did know something about giving opera, +although he had his failings and was difficult to deal with. Henry +Mapleson always disliked me and, over and over again, he put Marie in a +position of seeming antagonism to me; but I never bore malice for she +was innocent enough. She had some spirit tucked away in her temperament +somewhere, only, when we first knew her, she was too intimidated to let +it show. When she was singing <i>Carmen</i> she was the gentlest mannered +gypsy that was ever stabbed by a jealous lover—a handsome Carmen but +too sweet and good for anything. Carlton was the Escamillo and he said +to her quite crossly once at rehearsal,</p> + +<p>"You don't make love to me enough! You don't put enough devil into it!"</p> + +<p>Marie flared up for a second.</p> + +<p>"I can be a devil if I like," she informed him. But, in spite of this +assertion, she never put any devil into anything she did—on the stage +at least.</p> + +<p class="figcenter"> +<a href="images/henry_mapleson_lg.jpg"> +<img src="images/henry_mapleson_sml.jpg" width="377" height="550" alt="Colonel Henry Mapleson + +From a photograph by Downey" title="" /></a> +<br /> +<span class="caption"><b>Colonel Henry Mapleson</b><br /> + +From a photograph by Downey</span> +</p> + +<p>Very few singers ever seem to get really inside<a name="page_291" id="page_291"></a> Carmen. Some of the +modern ones come closer to her; but in my day there was an unwritten law +against realism in emotion. In most of the old standard <i>rôles</i> it was +all right to idealise impulses and to beautify the part generally, but +Carmen is too terribly human to profit by such treatment. She cannot be +glossed over. One can, if one likes, play <i>Traviata</i> from an elegant +point of view, but there is nothing elegant about Mérimée's Gypsy. +Neither is there any sentiment. Carmen is purely—or, rather, +impurely—elemental, a complete little animal. I used to love the part, +though. When I was studying the part, I got hold of Prosper Mérimée's +novel and read it and considered it until I really understood the girl's +nature which, <i>en passant</i>, I may say is more than the critic of <i>The +New York Tribune</i> had done. I doubt if he had ever read Mérimée at all, +for he said that my rendering of Carmen was too realistic! The same +column spoke favourably in later years, of Mme. Calvé's performance, so +it was undoubtedly a case of <i>autres temps, autres mœurs</i>! Carmen +was, of course, too low for me. It was written for a low mezzo, and +parts of it I could not sing without forcing my lower register. The +Habanera went very well by being transposed half a tone higher; but the +card-playing scene was another matter. The La Morte <i>encore</i> lies very +low and I could not raise it. Luckily the orchestra is quite light there +and I could sing reflectively as if I were saying to myself, as I sat on +the bales, "My time is coming!"</p> + +<p class="figcenter"> +<a href="images/ill_pg_291_lg.png"> +<img src="images/ill_pg_291_sml.png" width="550" height="203" alt="Musical notation: Ri-pe-te-rà: l'av-el!....an-cor! + +au-cor!..La Morte n-cor!" title="musical notation" /></a> +</p> + +<p><a name="page_292" id="page_292"></a>2</p> + +<p>In the fortune-telling quartette I arranged with one of the Gypsy +girls—Frasquita, I think it was,—to sing my part and let me sing hers, +which was very high, and thus relieve me.</p> + +<p>A <i>rôle</i> in which I made my <i>début</i> while I was with Marie Roze and Gary +was Aïda. Mapleson was anxious that Roze should have it, but Strakosch +gave it to me. One of Mapleson's critics wrote severely about my sitting +on a low seat instead of on the steps of the dais during the return of +Rhadames, I remember in this connection. But nothing could prevent Aïda +from being a success and it became one of my happiest <i>rôles</i>. A year or +two later when I sang it in London my success was confirmed. Gary was +Amneris in it and ranked next to the Amneris for whom Verdi wrote it, +although she rather over-acted the part. I have never seen an Amneris +who did not. There is something about the part that goes to the head. +Speaking of my new <i>rôles</i> at that period, I must not forget to mention +my mad scene from <i>Hamlet</i>; nor my one act of <i>Lohengrin</i> that I added +to my <i>répertoire</i>. Lucia had always been one of my successes; and I +believe that one of the points that made my Senta interesting was that I +interpreted her as a girl obsessed with what was almost a monomania. She +was a highly abnormal creature and that was the way I played her. It was +a satisfaction to me that a few people here and there really appreciated +this rather subtle interpretation. In commendation of this +interpretation there appeared an anonymous letter in <i>The Chicago +Inter-Ocean</i>, a part of which read:</p> + +<div class="blockquot"><p>"In her rendering of this strange character (Senta) Miss Kellogg +keeps constantly true to the ideal of the great composer, Wagner. +In her acting, as well as in her singing, we see nothing of the +woman; only the abnormal manifestations<a name="page_293" id="page_293"></a> of the subject of a +monomania. The writer is informed by a physician whose observations +of the insane, extending over many years, enable him to judge of +Miss Kellogg's acting in this character, and he does not hesitate +to say that she delineates truthfully the victim of a mind +diseased. Such a delineation can only be the result of a careful +study of the insane, aided by a wonderful intuitive faculty. The +representation of the mad Ophelia in the last act of <i>Hamlet</i>, +given by Miss Kellogg last Saturday, fully confirms the writer in +the belief that no woman since Ristori possesses such power in +rendering the manifestations of the insane."</p></div> + +<p class="figcenter"> +<a href="images/clara_as_aida_lg.jpg"> +<img src="images/clara_as_aida_sml.jpg" width="376" height="550" alt="Clara Louise Kellogg as Aïda + +From a photograph by Mora" title="" /></a> +<br /> +<span class="caption"><b>Clara Louise Kellogg as Aïda</b><br /> + +From a photograph by Mora</span> +</p> + +<p>The portion of my tour with Roze and Cary under the management of Max +Strakosch that took me to the far West, was particularly uncomfortable. +Fortunately the financial results compensated in a large measure for the +annoyances. Not only did I have Mapleson's influence and his +determination to push Marie Roze at all costs to contend with, and the +trying actions and personality of Annie Louise Cary, but I also was +subjected to much embarrassment from a manager named Bianchi, with whom, +early in my career, I had partially arranged to go to California. Our +agreement had fallen through because he was unable to raise the sum +promised me; so, when I did go, with Roze and Cary and Strakosch, he was +exceedingly bitter against me.</p> + +<p>Annie Louise Cary was, strictly speaking, a contralto; yet she contrived +to be considered as a mezzo and even had a try at regular soprano +<i>rôles</i> like <i>Mignon</i>. It is almost superfluous to state that she +disliked me. So far as I was concerned, she would have troubled me very +little indeed if she had been willing to let me alone. I would not know +her socially, but professionally I always treated her with entire +courtesy and would have been satisfied to hold with her the most +amicable<a name="page_294" id="page_294"></a> relations in the world, as I have with all singers with whom I +have appeared in public. Annie Louise Cary, however, willed it +otherwise. <i>The Tribune</i> once printed a long editorial in which Max +Strakosch was described as pacing up and down the room distractedly, +crying: "Oh, what troubles! For God's sake, don't break up my troupe!" +This was rather exaggerated; but I daresay there was more truth than +fiction in it. Poor Max did have his troubles!</p> + +<p>Max Strakosch was an Austrian by birth and, having lived the greater +part of twenty-five years in this country, considered himself an +American. He began his career with Parodi, somewhere back in the rosy +dawn of our operatic history. Parodi was a great dramatic singer—the +only woman of her day—brought over as the rival of Jenny Lind. Later +Max Strakosch was with Thalberg, after which he was connected with the +importation of various opera troupes having in their lists such singers +as Madame Gazzaniga, Madame Coulsen, Albertini, Stigelli, Brignoli, and +Susini. In all these early enterprises he was associated with his +brother Maurice. He would himself have become a musician, but Maurice +advised differently. So, as he expressed it, he always engaged his +artists "by ear"; that is, he had them sing to him and in that way +judged of their availability. Maurice used to say to him, "If you are +merely a technical musician you can only tell what will please +musicians. If you have general musical culture, and know the public, you +can tell what will please the public." And, as Max sometimes amplified, +"I have discovered this to be correct in many cases. Jarrett, who acted +as the agent of Nilsson and Lucca, is not a practical musician. Neither +is Morelli, who is a great impresario; neither is Mapleson.<a name="page_295" id="page_295"></a> But they +know what the public want and they furnish it." After he separated from +his brother in operatic management, Max travelled with Gottschalk, with +Carlotta Patti, and first brought Nilsson to America. Capoul, Campanini, +and Maurel all made their appearance on the American operatic stage +under his guidance.</p> + +<div class="blockquot"><p>Do you find your artists difficult to manage? [he was asked by a +San Francisco reporter].</p> + +<p>In some respects, yes, [was his reply]. They have certain operas +which they wish to sing and they decline to learn others. The +public get tired of these and demand novelty. With Miss Kellogg +there is never this trouble. She knows forty operas and knows them +well. She has a wonderful musical memory. She is a student, and +learns everything new that is published. She has worked her way to +her present high position step by step. She is sure of her +position. She has an independent fortune, but loves her art and her +country. But she is not obliged to confine herself to America. She +has offers from London, Paris, and St. Petersburg, and will +probably visit those places next season. She is just now at the +zenith of her powers. She has learned <i>Paul and Virginia</i>, a very +charming opera written for Capoul, and which will be given here for +the first time in the United States. If we give our contemplated +season of opera here she will sing Valentine in <i>The Huguenots</i> for +the first time.</p></div> + +<p>This same reporter has described Max as follows:</p> + +<div class="blockquot"><p>He can be seen almost at any hour about the Palace Hotel when not +engaged with a myriad of musicians—opera singers long ago stranded +on this coast, young vocalists with voices to be tried, chorus +singers seeking employment, players on instruments wanting to +perform in his orchestra, and people who come on all imaginable +errands—or looking at the objects of curiosity about the<a name="page_296" id="page_296"></a> city. He +is always in a state of vibration; has a tongue forever in motion +and a body never at rest. He is as demonstrative as a Frenchman. He +talks with all the oscillations, bobs, shrugs, and nervous +twitchings of the most mercurial Parisian. He has a pronounced +foreign accent. When speaking, his voice runs over the entire +gamut, only stopping at <i>C</i> sharp above the lines. In the +dining-room he attracts the attention of guests and waiters by the +eagerness of his manner. When interested in the subject of +conversation, he throws his arms sideways, endangering the lives of +his neighbours with his knife and fork, rises in his seat, makes +extravagant gestures.... His greeting is always cordial, +accompanied by a grasp of the hand like a patent vice or the gentle +nip of a hay-press.</p></div> + +<p>Mlle. Ilma de Murska, "The Hungarian Nightingale," was with us part of +the time on this tour. She was a well-known Amina in <i>Sonnambula</i> and +appeared in our all-star casts of <i>Don Giovanni</i>. She was said to have +had five husbands. I know she had a chalk-white face, a belt of solid +gold, and a menagerie of snakes and lizards that she carried about with +her. This is all I remember with any vividness of Murska.</p> + +<p>It all seems long, long ago; and, I find, it is the ridiculously +unimportant things that stand out most clearly in my memory. For +instance, we gave extra concerts, of course, and one of them lasted so +long, thanks to <i>encores</i> and general enthusiasm, that Strakosch had to +send word to hold the train by which we were leaving. But the audience +wanted more, and yet more, and at last I had to go out on the stage and +say:</p> + +<p>"There's a train waiting for me! If I sing again, I'll miss that train!"</p> + +<p>Then the people laughingly consented to let me go.</p> + +<p>Another funny little episode happened in San Francisco,<a name="page_297" id="page_297"></a> when I did for +once break down in the middle of a scene. It was—let me see—I think it +must have been in our last season of English opera, instead of in "The +Three Graces" tour, for it occurred in <i>The Talisman</i>, but speaking of +California suggests it to me. We carried six Russian singers. They all +joined the Greek Church choir later. One of them was a little man about +five feet high, with a sweet voice, but an extremely nervous +temperament. There was an unimportant <i>rôle</i> in <i>The Talisman</i> of a +crusading soldier who had to rush on and sing a phrase to the effect +that St. George's boats and horses were approaching from both sides; I +do not recall the words. The only man who could sing the "bit" was our +five-foot Russian friend. He had to wear a large Saracen helmet and +carry a shield six feet high; and his entrance was a running one. I, +playing Lady Edith Plantagenet, looked around to see the poor little +chap come staggering along under the immense shield and to hear a very +shaky and frightened voice gasp: "Sire, St. George's floats and boats, +and flounts and mounts—" I tried to sing "A traitor! A traitor!" but +got only as far as "A trai—" when I was overcome with an impulse of +laughter and the curtain had to be rung down!</p> + +<p>I recall, too, a visit I had from a Chinese woman. I had bought +something from a Chinese shop in San Francisco, and the wife of the +merchant, dressed most ceremoniously and accompanied by four servants, +came to see me and expressed her desire to have me call on her. So a +cousin who was with me and I went, expecting to see a Chinese interior; +but we found the most <i>banal</i> of American furnishings and surroundings. +Afterwards we visited Chinatown and one of the opium dens, where we saw +the whole process of opium smoking<a name="page_298" id="page_298"></a> by the men there, lying in bunks +along the wall like shelves. It was on this trip, too, when going West, +that, as we reached the Junction in Utah to branch off to Salt Lake +City, we found the tracks were all filled up with the funeral +train—flat decorated cars with seats—left from the funeral of Brigham +Young.</p> + +<p>But the strongest recollection of all—yes, even than the troubles +between Annie Louise Cary and myself—stands out, of that Western tour, +the knowledge of the good friends I won, personally and professionally, +a collective testimonial of which remains with me in the form of a large +gold brooch shaped like a lyre, across which is an enamelled bar of +music from <i>Faust</i> delicately engraved in gold and with diamonds used as +the notes. On the back is inscribed:</p> + +<p>"Farewell from friends who love thee."</p> + +<p>The same year I sang at the triennial festival of the Händel and Haydn +Society of Boston. Emma Thursby, a high coloratura soprano, was with us. +So were Charles Adams and M. W. Whitney. Gary also sang. It was a very +brilliant musical event for the Boston of those days. It was in Boston, +too, although a little later, that Von Bulow called on me and, speaking +of practising on the piano, showed me his fingers, upon the tips of +every one of which were very tough corns. In further conversation he +remarked, with regard to Wagner, "Ah, he married my widow!" When singing +in Boston one night, during "The Three Graces" tour, at a performance of +<i>Mignon</i>, there was noted by one newspaper man who was present the +somewhat curious fact that in singing that Italian opera only one of the +principals sang in his or in her native tongue. Cary was an American, +Roze a Frenchwoman, Tom Karl (Carroll) an Irishman, Verdi (Green) an<a name="page_299" id="page_299"></a> +American, and myself. The only Italian was Frapoli, the new tenor.</p> + +<p class="figcenter"> +<a href="images/faust_brooch_lg.jpg"> +<img src="images/faust_brooch_sml.jpg" width="448" height="550" alt="Faust Brooch Presented to Clara Louise Kellogg" title="" /></a> +<br /> +<span class="caption"><b>Faust Brooch Presented to Clara Louise Kellogg</b></span> +</p> + +<p>In 1878, on a Western trip, I remember my making a point, in some place +in Kansas, of singing in an institute on Sunday for the pleasure of the +inmates. We had done this sort of thing frequently before, notably in +Utica. So we went to the prison to sing to the prisoners. I said to the +company, "I am going to sing to give <i>pleasure</i>, and not a hymn is to be +in the programme!" When I was told of the desperadoes in the place I was +almost intimidated. The guards were particularly imposing. I played my +own accompaniments and I sang negro melodies. I never had such an +audience, of all my appreciative audiences. Never, I feel sure, have I +given quite so much pleasure as to those lawless prisoners out in +Kansas.<a name="page_300" id="page_300"></a></p> + +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XXVIII" id="CHAPTER_XXVIII"></a>CHAPTER XXVIII<br /><br /> +ACROSS THE SEAS AGAIN</h2> + +<p class="nind"><span class="letra">I</span> was glad to be going again to England. My farewell to my native land +was, however, more like an ovation than a farewell. One long table of +the ship's grand saloon was heaped with flowers sent me by friends and +"admirers." The list of my fellow passengers on this occasion was a +distinguished one, including Bishop Littlejohn, Bishop Scarborough, +Bishop Clarkson, and other Episcopal prelates who were going over to +attend the conference in London; the Rev. Dr. John Hall; Maurice Grau, +Max Strakosch, Henry C. Jarrett, John McCullough, Lester Wallack, +General Rathbone of Albany, Colonel Ramsay of the British army, +Frederick W. Vanderbilt, and Joseph Andrede, the Cape of Good Hope +millionaire. I was interviewed by a <i>Sun</i> reporter, on deck, and assured +him that I was going abroad for rest only.</p> + +<p>"No," I said, "I shall not sing a note. How could I, after such a +season—one hundred and fifty nights of constant labour. No; I shall +breathe the sea air, and that of the mountains, and see +Paris—delightful Paris! With such a lovely summer before me, it would +be a little hard to have to work."</p> + +<p>It was like old times to be in England once more. Yet I found many +changes. One of them was in the state of my old friend James McKenzie +who had been<a name="page_301" id="page_301"></a> in the East Indian trade and had a delightful place in +Scotland adjoining that of the Queen, through which she used to drive +with the incomparable John Brown. I had been invited up there on my +first visit to England, but was not able to accept. When I asked for him +this time I learned that he had been knighted for loaning money to the +Prince of Wales. A girl I knew quite well told me, this year, a touching +little story of a half-fledged romance which had taken place at Sir +James's place in Scotland. The Prince who was known in England as +"Collars and Cuffs" and who died young, was with the McKenzies for the +hunting season and there met my friend,—such a pretty American girl she +was! They fell in love with each other and, though of course nothing +could come of it, they played out their pathetic little drama like any +ordinary young lovers.</p> + +<p>"Come down early to dinner," the Prince would whisper. "I'll have a bit +of heather for you!"</p> + +<p>And when they met in London, later, he took her to Marlborough House and +showed her the royal nurseries and the shelves where his toys were still +kept. The girl nearly broke down when she told me about it. I have +thought of the little story more than once since.</p> + +<p>"He hated to have me courtesy to him," she said. "He used to whisper +quite fiercely: 'don't you courtesy to me when you can avoid it—I can't +bear to have you do it!'"</p> + +<p>My new <i>rôle</i> in London that season was Aïda. For, of course, I was +singing! It went so well that Mapleson (père) wanted to extend my +engagement. But I was very, very tired and, for some reason—this, +probably,—not in my usual "form," to borrow an Anglicism, so I decided +to go to Paris and rest, meanwhile waiting for something to develop that +I liked well enough to accept.<a name="page_302" id="page_302"></a> Maurice Strakosch had been my agent in +England, but it seemed to me that his methods were becoming somewhat +antiquated. So I gave him up and decided that I would get along without +any agent at all. I also gave up Colonel Mapleson. Mapleson owed me +money—although, for that matter, he owed everybody. Poor Titjiens sang +for years for nothing. So, when, as soon as I was fairly settled in +Paris, the Colonel sent me earnest and prayerful summons to come back to +London and go on singing <i>Aïda</i>, I turned a deaf ear and sent back word +that I was too tired.</p> + +<p>My first appearance in London this season was at a Royal Concert at +Buckingham Palace to which, as before, I was "commanded." There were +present many royalties, any number of foreign ambassadors, dukes, +duchesses, marquises, marchionesses, archbishops, earls, countesses, +lords, and viscounts. Her Royal Highness, the Princess of Wales wore, I +remember, a gown of crème satin brocade trimmed with point d'Alençon, +trimmed with pansy-coloured velvet; and her jewels were diamonds, +pearls, and sapphires. Her tiara was of diamonds and she was decorated +with many orders. Said an American press notice:</p> + +<div class="blockquot"><p>Miss Kellogg, it is a pleasure to say, achieved a complete triumph +and received the congratulations of the Prince and Princess of +Wales and of everyone present.... And not a whit behind this was +the great triumph she gained on the evening of June 19th, in her +character of Aïda, without doubt the most impressive and ambitious +of her impersonations, and which has won for her in America the +highest praise from musical people and public on account of the +intensity of feeling which she throws into the dramatic action and +music. The London <i>Times</i> critic, who is undoubtedly the best in +London, bestows praise in unequivocal<a name="page_303" id="page_303"></a> language for the excellence +of Miss Kellogg's interpretation. That Miss Kellogg has been so +successful as a singer will be glad news to her friends, and that +she has been so successful as an American singer will be still +better news to those people who feel keenly for our national +reputation as lovers and promoters of the fine arts.</p></div> + +<p>In an interview in London Max Strakosch was asked with regard to his +plans for another season:</p> + +<div class="blockquot"><p>"Why do you contemplate giving English opera instead of Italian?"</p> + +<p>"For two reasons," he replied. "The first is that English is very +popular now and the great generality of people in England and +America prefer it. This is especially the case in England. The +second reason is that, although Kellogg is the equal of an Italian +operatic star, fully as fine as Gerster, immeasurably superior to +Hauck, people with set ideas will always have their favourites, and +partisanship is possible; whereas in English opera Kellogg stands +alone, unapproachable, the indisputable queen."</p> + +<p>"What is all this talk I hear about a lot of rich men coming to the +front in New York to support Mapleson's operatic ventures with +their money?"</p> + +<p>"Why, it is all talk; that's just it. That sort of talk has been +talked for years back, but they never do anything. Why didn't these +rich men that want opera in New York give me any money? I stood +ready to bring out any artists they wanted if they would guarantee +me against loss. But they never did anything of the kind, and I +have brought out the leading artists of our times at my own risks. +The only man who's worth anything of all that lot that's talking so +much about opera now in New York is Mr. Bennett. He's got the +<i>Herald</i>, and that has influence."</p> + +<p>"What do you think of Americans as an opera-going people?" he was +asked.</p> + +<p>"While we have many music-lovers in America, it is<a name="page_304" id="page_304"></a> nevertheless a +difficult matter to cater to our public," Max replied. "Here in +England there is such an immense constituency for opera; people who +have solid fortunes, which nothing disturbs, and who want opera and +all other beautiful and luxurious things, and will pay largely for +them. In America hard times may set everybody to economising and, +of course, one of the first things cut off is going to the opera."</p> + +<p>"Was all that gossip about disputes and jealousies between Kellogg +and Gary last season a managerial dodge for notoriety?"</p> + +<p>"Dear me, no. I haven't the slightest idea how all that stuff and +nonsense started. Kellogg and Gary were always good friends. If +Gary wasn't pleased with her treatment last year, why should she +engage with us again? Besides, what rivalry could there possibly be +between a soprano and a contralto? The soprano is the <i>prima donna</i> +incontestably, the star of the troupe."</p></div> + +<p>In Paris my mother and I took an apartment on the Rue de Chaillot, just +off the Champs Élysées. One of the first things I did in Paris was to +refuse an offer to sing in Budapesth. While in Paris I, of course, did +sing many times, but it was always unprofessionally. I had a wonderful +stay in Paris, and went to everything from horse shows to operas. Those +were the charming days when Mme. Adam had her <i>salon</i>. I met there some +of the most gifted and brilliant people of the age. She was the editor +of the <i>Nouvelle Revue</i>, and it was through her that I met Coquelin. He +frequently recited at her receptions; and it was a great privilege to +hear his wonderful French and his inimitable intonation in an <i>intime</i> +way.</p> + +<p>The house where I enjoyed visiting more than any other except the +Adams', was that of Theodore Robin, who had married a rich American +widow and had a<a name="page_305" id="page_305"></a> beautiful home on Parc Monceau. His baritone voice was +a very fine one, and he had studied at first with a view to making a +career for himself; but he was naturally indolent and, having married +money, his indolence never decreased. Valentine Black was another friend +of ours and we spent many an evening at his house listening to Godard +and Widor play their songs. Widor was the organist at Saint Sulpice and +had composed some charming lyric music. Godard was a very small man, +intensely musical. He had the curious gift of being able to copy another +composer's style exactly. Few people know, for instance, that he wrote +all the recitative music for <i>Carmen</i>. It is almost incredible that +another brain than Bizet's should have so marvellously caught the spirit +and the mood of that music.</p> + +<p>The Stanley Club gave me a dinner in the following March at which my +mother and I were the only ladies present. Mr. Ryan was the President of +the Club and represented the <i>New York Herald</i>. The foreign +correspondents of the <i>Evening Post</i> and the <i>Boston Advertiser</i> were +there, and next to Ryan sat Richard Watson Gilder who was representing +the <i>Century Magazine</i>. There were also there several poets and writers, +and more than one painter whose picture hung in the <i>Salon</i> of that +year. No one asked me to sing; but I felt that I wanted to and did so. +After the "Jewel Song" and the "Polonaise," someone asked for "Way Down +on the Suwanee River." I sang it, and was struck by the incongruous +touch of the little negro melody, the brilliant Stanley Club, and all +Paris outside.</p> + +<p>No one can live in the atmosphere of artistic Paris without being +interested in other branches of art besides one's own. That is a +charming trait of French<a name="page_306" id="page_306"></a> people;—they are not a bit prejudiced when it +comes to recognising forms of genius that are unfamiliar. The stupidest +Parisian painter will weep over Tschaikowsky's <i>Pathétique Symphony</i> or +will wildly applaud one of the rather cumbersome Racine tragedies at the +Théâtre Français. I knew Cabanel quite well (not, I hasten to add, that +he would be apt to cultivate an artistic taste in anybody) and I met +Jules Stewart at the Robins', whose father was the greatest collector of +Fortuneys in the world. I think it was he who took me to the Loan +Exhibition of the Barbizon School of Painting that year. The pictures +were hung beautifully, I remember, so that one could see the stages of +their development.</p> + +<p>It was about the same time that I first heard Josephine de Reszke in +Paris. In any case it was somewhere in the seventies. She was a soprano +with a beautiful voice but not an attractive personality. Her neck was +exceptionally short and set so far down into her shoulders that she just +escaped deformity. She was very much the blonde, northern type, and +still a young woman. I have heard that she did not have to sing for +monetary reasons. A few years later she married a wealthy Polish banker +and left the stage. At the time I first heard her the de Reszke men were +not singing. It was in <i>Le Roi de Lahore</i> that I heard her, with +Lascelle. I never listened to anything more magnificently done than +Lascelle's singing of the big baritone <i>aria</i>. Maurel followed him as a +baritone. He was a great artist also, with possibly more intelligence in +his singing than Lascelle. Lascelle relied entirely on his glorious +voice; in consequence he never realised all in his career that might +have been possible. In reality, if you have one great gift, you have to +develop as many other gifts as<a name="page_307" id="page_307"></a> possible in order to present and to +protect that one properly! A little later I heard Maurel in <i>Iago</i>. +(This reminds me of <i>Othello</i> in Munich, when Vogel, the tenor, sang out +of tune and nearly spoiled Maurel's work). What an actor, and what an +intelligence! One felt in Maurel a man who had studied his <i>rôles</i> from +the original plots. He played a great part in costuming, but, curiously +enough, he could never play parts of what I call elemental +picturesqueness. His Amonasro in <i>Aïda</i> was good, but it was a bit too +clean and tidy. He looked as if he were just out of a Turkish bath, +immaculate, in spite of his uncivilised guise. He could, however, play a +small part as if it were the finest <i>rôle</i> in the piece; and he had an +inimitable elegance and art, even with a certain primitive romantic +quality lacking. But what days those were—of what marvellous singing +companies! I hear no such vocalism now, in spite of the elaborate and +expensive opera that is put on each year.</p> + +<p>In my mother's diary of this period I find:</p> + +<div class="blockquot"><p>Louise presented to Verdi and we had no idea she would appear in +any newspaper in consequence....</p> + +<p>She went to hear the damnation of <i>Faust</i> last Sunday and says the +orchestra was <i>very</i> fine. The singing is not so much. She went to +hear <i>Aïda</i> last night at the Grau Opera House with Verdi to +conduct and Krauss as Aïda. Chorus and orchestra fine artists. +<i>Well</i>—she was <i>disappointed</i>! Krauss sings so false and has not +as much power as Louise. She came home quite proud of herself. Took +her opera and marked everything. Says her <i>tempo</i> was very nearly +correct; but yet she was disappointed. Krauss changes her dress. +Louise does not....</p> + +<p>We went to Miss Van Zandt's <i>début</i>. She made a veritable success. +Has a very light tone. The <i>Théâtre Comique</i><a name="page_308" id="page_308"></a> is small. She is +extremely slender and, if not worked too hard, will develop into a +fine artist. Our box joined Patti's. I sat next to her and we lost +no time in chatting over everything that was interesting to us +both. She told me her whole story. I was very much interested; and +had a most agreeable evening. Was glad I went.</p></div> + +<p>In a letter written by my mother to my father I find another mention of +my meeting Verdi:</p> + +<p>"Louise was invited to breakfast with Verdi, the composer of <i>Aïda</i>. She +said he was the most natural, unaffected, and the most amiable man +(musical) she ever met."<a name="page_309" id="page_309"></a></p> + +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XXIX" id="CHAPTER_XXIX"></a>CHAPTER XXIX<br /><br /> +TEACHING AND THE HALF-TALENTED</h2> + +<p class="nind"><span class="letra">I</span> have gone abroad nearly every summer and it was on one of these trips, +in 1877, that I first met Lilian Nordica. It was at a garden party given +by the Menier Chocolat people at their <i>usine</i> just outside Paris, after +she had returned from making a tour of Europe with Patrick Gilmore's +band. A few years later she and I sang together in Russia; and we have +always been good friends. At the time of the Gilmore tour she was quite +a girl, but she dressed her hair in a fashion that made her look much +older than she really was and that threw into prominence her admirably +determined chin. She always attributed her success in life to that chin. +Before becoming an opera singer she had done about everything else. She +had been a book-keeper, had worked at the sewing machine, and sung in +obscure choirs. The chin enabled her to surmount such drudgery. A young +person with a chin so expressive of determination and perseverance could +not be downed. She told me at that early period that she always kept her +eyes fixed on some goal so high and difficult that it seemed impossible, +and worked toward it steadily, unceasingly, putting aside everything +that stood in the path which led to it. In later years she spoke again +of this, evidently having kept the idea throughout her career. "When I +sang Elsa," she said,<a name="page_310" id="page_310"></a> "I thought of Brunhilde,—then Isolde,—" My +admiration for Mme. Nordica is deep and abounding. Her breathing and +tone production are about as nearly perfect as anyone's can be, and, if +I wanted any young student to learn by imitation, I could say to her, +"Go and hear Nordica and do as nearly like her as you can!" There are +not many singers, nor have there ever been many, of whom one could say +that. And one of the finest things about this splendid vocalism is that +she has had nearly as much to do with it as had God Almighty in the +first place. When I first knew her she had no dramatic quality above <i>G</i> +sharp. She could reach the upper notes, but tentatively and without +power. She had, in fact, a beautiful mezzo voice; but she could not hope +for leading <i>rôles</i> in grand opera until she had perfect control of the +upper notes needed to complete her vocal equipment. She went about it, +moreover, "with so much judition," as an old man I know in the country +says. But it was not until after the Russian engagement that she went to +Sbriglia in Paris and worked with him until she could sing a high <i>C</i> +that thrilled the soul. That <i>C</i> of hers in the Inflammatus in Rossini's +<i>Stabat Mater</i> was something superb. Not many singers can do it as +successfully as Nordica, although they can all accomplish a certain +amount in "manufactured" notes. Fursch-Nadi, also a mezzo, had to +acquire upper notes as a business proposition in order to enlarge her +<i>répertoire</i>. She secured the notes and the requisite <i>rôles</i>; yet her +voice lost greatly in quality. Nordica's never did. She gained all and +lost nothing. Her voice, while increasing in register, never suffered +the least detriment in tone nor <i>timbre</i>.</p> + +<p>It was Nordica who first told me of Sbriglia, giving<a name="page_311" id="page_311"></a> him honest credit +for the help he had been to her. Like all truly big natures she has +always been ready to acknowledge assistance wherever she has received +it. Some people—and among them artists to whom Sbriglia's teaching has +been of incalculable value—maintain a discreet silence on the subject +of their study with him, preferring, no doubt, to have the public think +that they have arrived at vocal perfection by their own incomparable +genius alone. All of my training had been in my native country and I had +always been very proud of the fact that critics and experts on two +continents cited me as a shining example of what American musical +education could do. All the same, when I was in Paris during an off +season, I took advantage of being near the great teacher, Sbriglia, to +consult him. I really did not want him actually to do anything to my +voice as much as I wanted him to tell me there was nothing that needed +doing. At the time I went to him I had been singing for twenty years. +Sbriglia tried my voice carefully and said:</p> + +<p>"Mademoiselle, you have saved your voice by singing far <i>forward</i>."</p> + +<p>"That's because I've been worked hard," I told him, "and have had to +place it so in self-defence. Many a night I've been so tired it was like +<i>pumping</i> to sing! Then I would sing 'way, <i>'way</i> in front and, by so +doing, was able to get through."</p> + +<p>"Ah, that's it!" said he. "You've sung against your teeth—the best +thing in the world for the preservation of the voice. You get a <i>white</i>, +flat sound that way."</p> + +<p>"Then I don't sing wrong?" I asked, for I knew that the first thing +great vocal masters usually have to do is to tell one how not to sing.</p> + +<p>"Mademoiselle," said Sbriglia, "you breathe by the<a name="page_312" id="page_312"></a> grace of God! +Breathing is all of singing and I can teach you nothing of either."</p> + +<p>Sbriglia's method was the old Italian method known to teachers as +<i>diaphragmatic</i>, of all forms of vocal training the one most productive +of endurance and stability in a voice. I went several times to sing for +him and, on one occasion, met Plançon who had been singing in Marseilles +and, from a defective method, had begun to sing out of tune so badly +that he resolved to come to Paris to see if he could find someone who +might help him to overcome it. He was quite frank in saying that +Sbriglia had "made him." I used to hear him practising in the Maestro's +apartment and would listen from an adjoining room so that, when I met +him, I was able to congratulate him on his improvement in tone +production from day to day. Phrasing and expression are what make so +many great French artists—that, and an inborn sense of the general +effect. French actors and singers never forget to keep themselves +picturesque and harmonious. They may get off the key musically but never +<i>artistically</i>. Germans have not a particle of this sense. They are +individualists, egoists, and are forever thinking of themselves and not +of the whole. When I heard Slezak, I said to myself: "If only somebody +would photograph that man and show him for once what he looks like!"</p> + +<p>The worst thing Sbriglia had to contend with was the obtuseness of +people. They did not know when they were doing well or ill, and would +not believe him when he told them. I remember being there one day while +a young Canadian girl was making tones for the master. She had a good +voice and could have made a really fine effect if she could only have +heard herself with her<a name="page_313" id="page_313"></a> brain. After he had been working with her for a +time, she sang a delightful note properly placed.</p> + +<p>"Good!" exclaimed Sbriglia.</p> + +<p>"That was lovely," I put in.</p> + +<p>"<i>That?</i> I wouldn't sing like that for anything! It sounded like an old +woman's voice!" cried the girl, quite amazed.</p> + +<p>Sbriglia threw up his hands in a frenzy and ordered her out of the +house. So that was an end of her as far as he was concerned.</p> + +<p>Sbriglia really loved to teach. It was a genuine joy to him to put the +finishing touches on a voice; to do those things for it that, +apparently, the Creator had not had time to do. I know one singer who, +when complimented upon his vast improvement, replied without the +slightest intention of impiety:</p> + +<p>"Yes, I am singing well now, thanks to Sbriglia,—and, of course, <i>le +bon Dieu</i>!" he added as an after-thought.</p> + +<p>Everyone knows what Sbriglia did for Jean de Reszke, turning him from an +unsuccessful baritone into the foremost tenor of the world. Sbriglia +first met the Polish singer at some Paris party, where de Reszke told +him that he was discouraged, that his career as a baritone had not been +a fortunate one, and that he had about made up his mind to give it all +up and leave the stage. He was a rich man and did not sing for a living +like most professionals. Sbriglia had heard him sing. Said he:</p> + +<p>"M. de Reszke, you are not a baritone."</p> + +<p>"I am coming to that conclusion myself," said Monsieur ruefully.</p> + +<p>"No, you are not a baritone," repeated Sbriglia. "You are a tenor."<a name="page_314" id="page_314"></a></p> + +<p>Jean de Reszke laughed. A tenor? He? But it was absurd!</p> + +<p>Nevertheless Sbriglia was calmly assured; and he was the greatest master +of singing in France, if not in the world. After a little conversation, +he convinced M. de Reszke sufficiently, at least, to give the new theory +a chance.</p> + +<p>"You need not pay me anything," said the great teacher to the young man. +"Not one franc will I take from you until I have satisfied you that my +judgment is correct. Study with me for six months only and then I will +leave it to you—and the world!"</p> + +<p>That was the beginning of the course of study which launched Jean de +Reszke upon his extraordinarily prosperous and brilliant career.</p> + +<p>Speaking of Sbriglia leads my thoughts from the study of singing in +general to the struggle of young singers, first, for education, and, +second, for recognition. I would like to impress upon those who think of +trying to make a career or who would like to make one the benefit to be +derived from reading the twenty-third and twenty-fourth chapters of +George Eliot's <i>Daniel Deronda</i>, in which she makes clear how much early +environment counts. There must have been some musical atmosphere, even +if not of an advanced or educated kind. Music must be absorbed with the +air one breathes and the food one eats, so as to form part of the blood +and tissue.</p> + +<p>It is sad to see the number of girls with the idea that they are +possessed of great gifts just ready to be developed by a short period of +study, after which they will blossom out into successful singers. +Injudicious friends—absolutely without judgment or musical +discrimination—are responsible for the cruel disillusions<a name="page_315" id="page_315"></a> that so +frequently follow. I would like to cry out to them to reject the +thought; or only to entertain it when encouraged by those capable by +experience or training of truly judging their gifts. Many and many a +girl comes out of a household where the highest musical knowledge has +been the hand-organ in the street, and believes that she is going to +take the world by storm. She is prepared to save and scrimp and struggle +to go upon the stage when she really should be stopping at home, ironing +the clothes and washing the dishes allotted her by a discriminating and +judicious Providence. Said Klesner to Gwendolen who wants to go on the +stage in <i>Daniel Deronda</i>:</p> + +<div class="blockquot"><p>You have exercised your talents—you recite—you sing—from the +drawing-room <i>Standpunkt</i>. My dear <i>Fräulein</i>, you must unlearn all +that. You have not yet conceived what excellence is. You must +unlearn your mistaken admirations. You must know what you have to +strive for, and then you must subdue your mind and body to unbroken +discipline. Your <i>mind</i>, I say. For you must not be thinking of +celebrity. Put that candle out of your eyes and look only at +excellence. You would, of course, earn nothing. You could get no +engagement for a long while. You would need money for yourself and +your family....</p> + +<p>A mountebank's child who helps her father to earn shillings when +she is six years old—a child that inherits a singing throat from a +long line of choristers and learns to sing as it learns to +talk—has a likelier beginning. Any great achievement in acting or +in music grows with the growth. Whenever an artist has been able to +say, "I came, I saw, I conquered," it has been at the end of +patient practice. Genius at first is little more than a great +capacity for receiving discipline. Singing and acting, like the +fine dexterity of the juggler with his cups and balls, require a +shaping of the organs toward a finer and finer certainty of<a name="page_316" id="page_316"></a> +effect. Your muscles—your whole frame—must go like a watch, true, +true, true, to a hair. That is the work of springtime, before +habits have been determined.</p></div> + +<p>This demonstrates what I cannot emphasise too heartily—the +impossibility of taking people out of their normal environment and +making anything worth while of them. There is a place in the world for +everybody and, if everybody would stay in that place, there would be +less confusion and fewer melancholy misfits. Singing is not merely +vocal. It is spiritual. One must be <i>in</i> music in some way; must hear it +often, or, even, hear it talked about. Merely hearing it talked about +gives one a chance to absorb some musical ideas while one's mental +attitude is being moulded. Studying in classes supplies the musical +atmosphere to a certain extent; and so does hearing other people sing, +or reading biographies of musicians. All these are better than +nothing—much better—and yet they can never take the place of really +musical surroundings in childhood. Being brought up in a household where +famous composers are known, loved, and discussed, where the best music +is played on the piano and where certain critical standards are a part +of the intellectual life of the inmates is a large musical education in +itself. The young student will absorb thus more real musical feeling, +and judgment, and knowledge, than in spending years at a conservatory.</p> + +<p>I have often and often received letters asking for advice and begging me +to hear the voices of girls who have been told they have talent. It is a +heart-breaking business. About one in sixty has had something resembling +a voice and then, ten chances to one, she has not been in a position to +cultivate herself. It is<a name="page_317" id="page_317"></a> difficult to tell a girl that a woman must +have many things besides a voice to make a success on the stage. It +seems so—well!—so <i>conceited</i>—to say to her:</p> + +<p>"My poor child, you must have presence and personality; good teeth and a +knowledge of how to dress; grace of manner, dramatic feeling, high +intelligence, and an aptitude for foreign languages besides a great many +other essentials that are too numerous to mention but that you will +discover fast enough if you try to go ahead without them!"</p> + +<p>An impulsive and warm-hearted friend was visiting me once when I +received a letter from a young woman whom I will call "E. H.," asking +permission to come and sing for me. I read the note in despair and threw +it over to my friend.</p> + +<p>"What are you going to do about it?" she asked, after she had glanced +through it.</p> + +<p>"Nothing. The girl has no talent."</p> + +<p>"How do you know that?" protested my friend.</p> + +<p>"By her letter. It is a crassly ignorant letter. I feel perfectly sure +that she can't sing."</p> + +<p>"You are very unkind!" my friend reproached me. "You ought at least to +hear her. You may be discouraging a genuine genius——"</p> + +<p>"Now see here," I interrupted, "'E. H.' is evidently ignorant and +uneducated. She further admits that she is poor. These facts taken +together make a terrible handicap. She'd have to be a miracle to make +good in spite of them."</p> + +<p>"I will pay her expenses to come here and see you," declared my dear +friend, obstinate in well-doing, like many another mistaken +philanthropist.</p> + +<p>I told her that she might take that responsibility if she liked, but +that I would have nothing to do with<a name="page_318" id="page_318"></a> raising a girl's false hopes in +any such way. "It's a little hard on her," I said, "to have to borrow +money to take a journey simply to be told that she can't sing. However, +have it your own way and bring her."</p> + +<p>She came. I saw her approaching up the driveway and simply pointed her +out to my misguided friend. Anyone would have known the minute he saw +"E. H." that she could not sing. She slouched and dragged her feet and +was hopelessly ordinary, every inch of her. It was not merely a matter +of plainness, but something far worse. She was quite hopeless. It turned +out, poor soul, that she was a chambermaid in a hotel. People had heard +her singing at her work and had told her that she ought to have her +voice cultivated. It was, as usual, a case of injudicious friends, and, +by the way, the very fact of being carried away by such praise is in +itself a mark of a certain lack of intelligence. This girl had no +temperament, no ear, no equipment, no taste, no advantages in the way of +having heard music. I had to say to her:</p> + +<p>"You have a pretty voice but nothing else, and not a sign of a career. +Dismiss it all, for you must have something more than a few sweet +notes."</p> + +<p>She cried, and I did, too. I hate to be obliged to tell girls such +disagreeable truths.</p> + +<p>Another girl came to me with her mother. She was full of herself and her +mother equally wrapped up in her. She had taken part in small village +affairs in the little Connecticut town where she lived. Her voice was +not bad, but she produced her notes in a wrong manner. Her teacher had +encouraged her and promised her success. But teachers do that, many of +them! I do not know that they can altogether be blamed.</p> + +<p>"You don't breathe right," I said to this Connecticut<a name="page_319" id="page_319"></a> girl. "You don't +produce your tone right. You've no experience and, of course, you +believe your teacher. But you forget one thing. Your teacher has to live +and you pay him for stimulating you, even if he does so without +justification."</p> + +<p>What I did not go on to say to her, although I longed to, was that she +was not the <i>build</i> of which <i>prime donne</i> are made. A <i>prima donna</i> has +to be compactly, sturdily made, with a strong backbone to support her +hard work and a <i>lifted</i> chest to let the tones out freely. A niece of +Bret Harte's, who appeared for a time in grand opera, drooped her chest +as she exhausted her breath and, when I saw her do it, I said:</p> + +<p>"She sings well; but she won't sing long!"</p> + +<p>She didn't.</p> + +<p>My Connecticut girl was big and sloppy, a long-drawn-out person, such as +is never, never gifted with a big voice.</p> + +<p>There is something else which is very necessary for every girl to +consider in going on the operatic stage. Has she the means for +experimenting, or does she have to earn her living in some way +meanwhile? If the former is the case, it will do no harm for her to play +about with her voice, burn her fingers if need be, and come home to her +mother and father not much the worse for the experience. I sympathise +somewhat with the teachers in not speaking altogether freely in cases +like these. There is no reason why anyone should take from a girl even +one remote chance if <i>she</i> can afford to take it. But poor girls should +be told the truth. So I said to my young Connecticut friend:</p> + +<p>"My dear, you are trying to support yourself and your mother, aren't +you? Very well. Now, suppose you go on and find that you can't—what +will you do<a name="page_320" id="page_320"></a> then? What are you fitted for? What can you turn your hand +to? What have you acquired? Look how few singers ever arrive and, if you +are not one of the few, will you not merely have entirely unfitted +yourself for the life struggle along other lines?"</p> + +<p>Herewith I say the same to four-fifths of all the girl singers who, in +villages, in shops, in schools, everywhere, are all yearning to be +great. They came to me in shoals in Paris and Milan, begging for just +enough money to get home with. I have shipped many a failure back to +America, and my soul has been sick for their disappointment and +disillusionment. But they will <i>not</i> be guided by advice or warning. +They have got to learn actually and bitterly. Neither are they ever +grateful for discouragement nor yet for encouragement. If you give them +the former, they think you are a selfish pessimist; and if you give them +the latter, they accept it as no more than their due. As I have +previously mentioned, I have known only one grateful girl and she was of +ordinary ability. Emma Abbott, for whom I certainly did a great deal, +was only grateful because she knew it was expected of her by the world +at large. I believe she really thought that all I did was to hasten her +success a little and that she really had not needed my assistance. +Possibly, she had not. But this other girl, to whom I gave a little, +unimportant advice, wrote me afterwards a most appreciative letter, +saying that my advice had been invaluable to her. It was the only word +of genuine gratitude I ever received from a young singer; and I kept her +letter as a curiosity.</p> + +<p>I believe there are, or were, more would-be <i>prime donne</i> in Chicago +than anywhere else on earth. I shall never forget appointing a Thursday +afternoon in the<a name="page_321" id="page_321"></a> Windy City to hear twelve aspirants to operatic +fame—pretty, fresh, self-conscious, young girls for the most part. +There was one of the number who was particularly pretty and particularly +aggressive. She criticised the others lavishly, but hung back from +singing herself. She talked a great deal about her voice, saying that +she had sung for Theodore Thomas and that he had told her there was no +hall big enough for it! Such colossal conceit prejudiced me in advance +and I must confess I felt a little curiosity to hear this "phenomenal +organ." It proved to be perfectly useless. She had neither power nor +quality nor comprehension. She could, however, make a big noise, as I +told her. On Sunday my friends began coming in to see me, full of an +article that had appeared in one of the papers that morning. Everyone +began with:</p> + +<p>"Good morning, Louise. My dear! Have you seen,"—etc.</p> + +<p>The article, that had quite openly been given the paper by the young +lady whose voice had been so much admired by Theodore Thomas, described +my unkindness to young singers, my jealous objection to praising +aspirants, my discouragement of good voices!</p> + +<p>As a matter of fact, I have always been the friend of young girls, +especially of young singers. So far from wishing to hurt or discourage +them, I have often gone out of my way to help them along. And I believe +that every time I have been obliged to tell a young and eager girl that +there was no professional triumph ahead of her, it has cut me almost, if +not quite, as deeply as it has cut her. For I always feel that I am +maiming, even killing some beautiful thing in discouraging her,—even +when I know it to be necessary and beneficial.</p> + +<p>Another thing that I wish young would-be artists<a name="page_322" id="page_322"></a> would remember is +that, if it is worth while to sing the music of a song, it is equally +worth while to sing the words, and that you cannot sing the words +really, unless you are singing their meaning. Do I make myself +understood, I wonder? Once a girl with a sweetly pretty voice sang to me +Nevin's <i>Mighty Lak a Rose</i>, the little negro song which Madame Nordica +gave so charmingly. When the girl had finished, I said:</p> + +<p>"My dear, have you read those words?"</p> + +<p>She looked at me blankly. I know she thought I was crazy.</p> + +<p>"Because," I proceeded, "if you read the poetry over before you sing +that song again, you'll find that it will help you."</p> + +<p>She had, I presume, "read" the words or she could not have actually +pronounced them; but she had not made the slightest attempt to read the +spirit of the little song. No picture had come to her of a rosy baby +dropping asleep and of a loving mammy crooning over him. She had not +read the <i>feeling</i> of the song, even if she had memorised the syllables. +Girls hate to work. They, even more than boys, want a short cut to +efficiency and success. Labour and effort are cruel words to them. They +want the glamour and the fun all at once. What would they say to the +noble and inspiring example of old E. S. Jaffray, a merchant of sixty, +whom I once knew, who, at that age, decided to learn Italian in order to +read Dante in the original?</p> + +<p>The best way—as I have said before and as I insist on saying—for +anyone to learn to sing is by imitation and assimilation. My friend +Franceschetti, a Roman gentleman, poor but of noble family, has classes +that I always attend when I am in the Eternal City, and wherein the +instruction is most advantageously given.<a name="page_323" id="page_323"></a> He criticises each student in +the presence of the others and, if the others are listening at all +intelligently, they must profit. But you must listen, and then listen, +and then keep on listening, and finally begin to listen all over again. +You must keep your ear ready, and your mind as well.</p> + +<p>Just as Faure, when he heard the bad baritone, said to himself, "that's +my note! Now how does he do it?" so you must hold yourself ready to +learn from the most humble as well as from the most unlikely sources. +Never forget that Faure learned from the really poor singer what no good +one had been able to teach him. Remember, too, that Patti learned one of +her own flexible effects from listening to Faure himself: and that these +great artists were not too proud to acknowledge it. I never went to hear +Patti, myself, without studying the fine, forward placing of her voice +and coming home immediately and trying to imitate it.</p> + +<p>Yet, after all one's efforts to help, one can only let the young singers +find out for themselves. If we could profit by each other's experience, +there would be no need for the doctrine of reincarnation. But I +wish—oh, how I wish—that I could save some foolish girls from +embarking on the ocean of art as half of them do with neither chart or +compass, nor even a seaworthy boat.</p> + +<p>A better metaphor comes to me in my recollection of a famous lighthouse +that I once visited. The rocks about were strewn with dead +birds—pitiful, little, eager creatures that had broken their wings and +beaten out their lives all night against the great revolving light. So +the lighthouse of success lures the young, ambitious singers. And so +they break their wings against it.<a name="page_324" id="page_324"></a></p> + +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XXX" id="CHAPTER_XXX"></a>CHAPTER XXX<br /><br /> +THE WANDERLUST AND WHERE IT LED ME</h2> + +<p class="nind"><span class="letra">T</span>HAT season of 1879 in Paris was certainly a wonderful one; and yet, +before it was over, I caught that strange fever of unrest that sends +birds migrating and puts the Romany tribes on the move. With me it came +as a result of over-fatigue and ill-health; an instinctive craving for +the medicine of change. The preceding London season had been exacting +and, in Paris, I had not had a moment in which to really rest. Although +the days had been filled most pleasantly and interestingly, they had +been filled to over-flowing, and I was very, very tired. So, in the grip +of the wanderlust, we packed our trunks and went to Aix-les-Bains. We +had not the slightest idea what we would do next. My mother was not very +well, either, and my coloured maid, Eliza, had to be in attendance upon +her a good deal of the time, so that I was forced to consider the detail +of proper chaperonage. We were in a French settlement and I was a <i>prima +donna</i>, fair game for gossip and comment. Therefore, I invited a friend +of mine, a charming young Englishwoman, down from Paris to visit me. She +was very curious about America, I remember. She was always asking me +about "the States" and was especially interested in my accounts of the +anti-negro riots. The fact that they had been almost entirely instigated +by the Irish Catholics in<a name="page_325" id="page_325"></a> New York excited her so that she felt obliged +to go and talk with a priest in Aix about it. It was she, also, who said +something one day that I thought both amusing and significant.</p> + +<p>"My dear," she exclaimed, "tell me what are 'buttered nuts'?"</p> + +<p>"Never heard of them," I replied.</p> + +<p>"Oh, yes, my dear Louise, you must have! They are in all American +books!"</p> + +<p>Of course she meant <i>butternuts</i>, as I laughingly explained. A moment +later she observed meditatively, "you know, I never take up an American +novel that I don't read some description of food!"</p> + +<p>I think what she said was quite true. I have remarked it since. Although +I do not consider that we are a greedy nation in practice when it comes +to food, we do love reading and hearing about good things to eat.</p> + +<p>Presently, as my mother felt better and had no real need of me, I +decided to take a little trip, leaving her at Aix with Eliza. Not quite +by myself, of course. I never reached such a degree of emancipation as +that. But I asked my English friend to go with me, and one fine day she +and I set out in search of whatever entertaining thing might come our +way. I had been so held down to routine all my life, my comings and +goings had been so ordered and so sensible, that I deeply desired to do +a bit of real gypsy wandering without the handicap of a travelling +schedule. No travelling is so delightful as this sort. Don Quixote it +was, if I remember rightly, who let his horse wander whithersoever he +pleased, "believing that in this consisted the very being of +adventures."</p> + +<p>We went first to Geneva and so over the Simplon<a name="page_326" id="page_326"></a> Pass into Italy. We +dreamed among the lakes, reading guide-books to help us decide on our +next stopping-point. So, on and on, until after a while we reached +Vienna. Three hours after my arrival there Alfred Fischoff, the Austrian +impresario, routed me out.</p> + +<p>"Where are you bound for?" he wanted to know.</p> + +<p>"Nowhere. That is just the beauty of it!"</p> + +<p>"Ah!" he commented understandingly. And then he asked, "How would you +like to sing?"</p> + +<p>Even though I was on a pleasure trip the idea allured me, for I always +like to sing.</p> + +<p>"Sing where?" I questioned.</p> + +<p>"Here, in Vienna."</p> + +<p>"I couldn't. I don't sing in German," I objected.</p> + +<p>"You could sing <i>als Gast</i>" (as a guest), he said.</p> + +<p>Finally it was so arranged and, I may add, I was the only <i>prima donna</i> +except Nilsson who had ever been permitted to sing in Italian at the +Imperial Opera House, while the other artists sang in German. A letter +from my mother to my father at that time discloses a light upon her +point of view.</p> + +<p>"Louise telegraphed for Eliza and her costumes. I thought at first she +was crazy, but it appears she was sane after all. A fine Vienna +engagement...."</p> + +<p>It was an undertaking to travel in Germany in those days. The German +railway officials spoke nothing but German and, furthermore, they are +never adaptable and quick like the Italians. In France or Italy they +understood you whether you spoke their language or not; but a Teuton has +to have everything translated into his own untranslatable tongue. When +my mother had finally gathered together my costumes, she wrote out a +long document that she had translated into German, concerning all that +Eliza was to do, and<a name="page_327" id="page_327"></a> where she was to go, and gave it to her so that +she could produce it along the way and be passed on to the next official +without explanation or complication. And after this fashion Eliza and my +costumes reached me safely. She was a good traveller and a good maid. +She was also very popular in that part of the world. Negroes had no +particular stigma attached to them on the Continent. Many of them were +no darker of hue than the Hindu and Mohammedan royalties who journeyed +there occasionally. So, wherever we went, my good, dark-skinned Eliza +was a real belle.</p> + +<p>There was much to interest me in Vienna, not only as a foreign capital +of note, but also as a curiosity. In a long life, and after many and +diverse experiences, I never had been in a city so entirely bound up in +its own interests and traditions. The luckless sinner battering vainly +upon the gates of Heaven has a better fighting chance, all told, than +has the ambitious outsider who aspires to social recognition by the +Viennese aristocracy. If an American is ever heard to say that he or she +has been received by Viennese society, those hearing the speech may +laugh in their sleeve and wonder what society it was. The thing cannot +be done. A handle to one's name, an estate, all the little earmarks of +"nobility" are not only required but insisted on. I believe it to be a +safe statement to make that no one without a title, and a title +recognised by the Austrians as one of distinction, can be received into +the inner circle. Even diplomatic representatives of republics are not +exempt from this ruling. They may have the wealth of the Indies, and +their wives may possess the beauty of Helen herself, and yet they are +not admitted. For this reason Austria is a most difficult post for +republican legations. Republican representatives<a name="page_328" id="page_328"></a> do not stay there +long. Usually, the report is that they are recalled for diplomatic +reasons, or their health has failed, or some other pride-saving excuse +to satisfy a democratic populace. Vienna was, and I suppose is, the +dullest Court in the whole world. The German Court at one time had the +distinction of being the dullest, but that has looked up a bit during +the reign of the present Kaiser. But Austria! The society of Vienna has +absolutely no interest in anything or anybody outside its own sacred +Inner Circle.</p> + +<p>On one occasion I was guilty of a great breach of etiquette. Meyerbeer's +son-in-law, a Baron of good lineage, was calling on me, and a +correspondent from <i>The London Daily Telegraph</i>, whom I had met socially +and not professionally, happened to be present. Although I knew from my +foreign experiences that possibly it was hardly the correct thing to do, +I, not unnaturally, presented them to each other. To my surprise the +Baron became stiff and the young Englishman somewhat ill at ease. I must +say, however, the Englishman carried it off better than the Baron did. +When the Austrian had departed, my newspaper acquaintance told me that I +had committed a social <i>faux pas</i> in making them known to each other. +Introductions are absolutely <i>taboo</i> between titled persons and +"commoners," as they are sternly called. A baron could not meet a +newspaper man!</p> + +<p>As a case in point, an Englishman of very distinguished connections +arrived in Vienna at the time of one of the Court balls. He applied at +his Embassy for an invitation, but was told that such a thing would be +quite impossible. Viennese etiquette was too rigid, etc. Therefore, he +did not go to the ball. But it so chanced that, a little later, when he +went to call on the<a name="page_329" id="page_329"></a> British Ambassador, he mentioned, casually enough, +that he had a courtesy title but never used it when travelling.</p> + +<p>"Why didn't you say so?" exclaimed the Ambassador. "I could have got you +an invitation quite easily, if you had only explained that!"</p> + +<p>Even the opera was very official and imperial. The Court Theatre was a +government house, and the manager of it an <i>Intendant</i> and a rather +grand person. In my time he was Baron Hoffman; and he and the Baroness +asked me often to their home and placed boxes at the opera at my +disposal, this last courtesy being one that the regular artists at the +opera are never permitted to receive. The Imperial Opera House of Vienna +is perhaps the most complete operatic organisation in existence and +especially, at that time, was the company rich in fine <i>prime donne</i>. +Mme. Materna was considered to be the greatest dramatic singer then +living. Mlle. Bianchi was a marvellous <i>chanteuse légère</i>, the equal of +Gerster. Mme. Ehn was the most poetical of <i>prime donne</i> and not unlike +Nilsson. Of Lucca's fame it is needless to speak again.</p> + +<p>I sang seven <i>rôles</i> in Vienna: <i>Lucia</i>, the <i>Ballo in Maschera</i>, +<i>Mignon</i>, <i>Traviata</i>, <i>Trovatore</i>, <i>Marta</i>, and one act of +<i>Hamlet</i>,—the mad scene, of course. It was during <i>Marta</i> that I had +paid to me one of the most satisfying compliments of my life. Dr. +Hanslick was then the greatest musical critic of Europe, a distinguished +and highly cultivated musical scholar, even if he did war against Wagner +and the new school. To the astonishment of the whole theatre, between +the acts, he wandered in by himself behind the scenes to call upon me +and offer his congratulations. Only one other singer had ever been thus +honoured by him before. He was<a name="page_330" id="page_330"></a> graciousness itself and, in his paper, +the <i>Neue Frei Presse</i>, he wrote these memorable words:</p> + +<p>"Miss Kellogg is an artist of the first order—the only one to compare +with Patti. It is the first time since Patti has gone that we have heard +what one can call singing! I congratulate Vienna on having heard such a +colossal artist!"</p> + +<p>Later, I was asked to the Hoffmans' again to meet Herr Hanslick and his +wife; and they were only two of the many distinguished and interesting +people that I met at the <i>Intendant's</i> house. Sonnenthal was one of +them, the great actor from the Hoftheatre. And Fanny Elssler was +another. I wonder how many people to-day know even the name of Fanny +Elssler, the dancer who captivated the young King of Rome and lived with +him for so long? There is mention of her in <i>L'Aiglon</i>. When I met her +she was seventy odd, and very quiet and dull. She was vastly respected +in Austria and held an exceedingly dignified position.</p> + +<p>I learned enough German to be able to sing in German for the <i>Intendant</i> +and his friends, with I know not what sort of accent. They were very +polite about it always, saying more than once to me, "what a gentle +accent!" But my German was dealt with less kindly by my audience one +night. The spoken dialogue in <i>Mignon</i> simply had to be made +comprehensible and therefore I had mastered it, as I thought, quite +acceptably enough. But somewhere in it I came what our English friends +call a most awful "cropper." I do not know to this day what dreadful +thing I could have said, but it afforded the house an ecstasy of +amusement. The whole audience laughed loudly and heartily and long; and +I confess I was considerably disconcerted. But, all things considered, +the Viennese audiences were<a name="page_331" id="page_331"></a> satisfactory to sing to. They have one +little custom, or mannerism, that is decidedly encouraging. When they +like anything very much, they do not break the action by applauding, +but, instead, a little soft "Ah!" goes all over the house. It was an +indescribably comforting sound and spurred a singer on to do her best to +please them. I sang Felina in <i>Mignon</i>, and the Viennese, to my eternal +gratitude, liked me in the part. I remembered Jarrett and the "wooden +gestures" he had fixed upon me in the <i>rôle</i>, and it was most +satisfactory to have people in the Austrian Capitol declare that I was +"an exquisite creation after Watteau!" Of course the Germans and +Austrians were so wedded to Materna's rather heroic style of singing +that I suppose any less strenuous methods might well have struck them as +unforceful, but—<i>à propos</i> of Materna and the inevitable comparison of +my work with hers—the <i>Fremden Blatt</i> was kind enough to print:</p> + +<p>"The grand voice, the powerful high tones, and the stupendously +passionate accents were not heard. Yet she knows how to sing with a +full, strong voice, with high tones, and with a graceful +passionateness!"</p> + +<p>That expression "graceful passionateness" has remained in my vocabulary +ever since, for it is a triumph of clumsy phraseology, even for a German +paper.</p> + +<p>I want to quote Dr. Hanslick once more;—it is such a lovely and amazing +thing to quote:</p> + +<p>"From her lips," said this illustrious critic, speaking of your humble +servant, "we have heard Verdi's hardest and harshest melodies come forth +refined and softened."</p> + +<p>Is this believable? Edward Hanslick did really apply the adjectives +"hard" and "harsh" to Verdi's music! It has to be read to be believed, +but what he said is on file.<a name="page_332" id="page_332"></a></p> + +<p>Speaking of "gentle accent," I had, on one occasion, the full beauty of +the Teutonic language borne in upon me in a peculiarly striking form. It +was in <i>Robert der Teufel</i>, that I heard in Vienna. The instance that +struck me was in the great scene during which he practises magic in the +cave and makes the dead to rise so that they can dance a <i>ballet</i> later +on. Alice is wandering around, and the devil is in a great state of mind +lest she has seen or overheard something of his magic.</p> + +<p>"<i>Was hast du gesehen?</i>" says he.</p> + +<p>"<i>Nichts!</i>" she replies.</p> + +<p>"<i>Nichts?</i>" he repeats.</p> + +<p>"<i>Nichts</i>," insists she.</p> + +<p>That "<i>Nichts!</i>" was repeated over and over until the whole theatre +echoed and resounded with "nichts-ts-ts-ts!" like spitting cats. There +never was anything less musical.</p> + +<p>"Heavens, Alfred," said I to Fischoff, who was with me at the time, +"can't they change it to '<i>Nein?</i>'"</p> + +<p>But he regarded me in a shocked manner at the very idea of so +sacrilegiously altering the text!</p> + +<p>German scores are full of loud ringing passages, built on guttural, +hissing, spitting consonants. But, then, we must remember that +librettists the world over are apparently men of an inferior quality of +intellect who know little about music or singing. I cannot help feeling +that by nature and cultivation the German writers of the texts for opera +suffer from an additional handicap of traditional density. Even one of +the greatest of all operas, <i>Faust</i>, suffers from being built upon a +German theme. At least, I should perhaps say, it suffers in sparkle, +vivacity, dramatic glitter. In the deeper, poetic meanings it remains +impervious alike to<a name="page_333" id="page_333"></a> time, place, and individual view-point. I never +fully appreciated the <i>rôle</i> of Marguerite until I met the German people +at close range. Then I learned by personal observation why she was so +dull, and limited, and unimaginative. Such traits are, as I suddenly +realised, not only individual; they are racial. Any middle-class girl of +sixteen might of course have been deceived by Faust with the aid of +Mephisto, but that Gretchen was German made the whole thing a hundred +times simpler.<a name="page_334" id="page_334"></a></p> + +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XXXI" id="CHAPTER_XXXI"></a>CHAPTER XXXI<br /><br /> +PETERSBURG</h2> + +<p class="nind"><span class="letra">W</span>HEN I received my engagement to sing at the Opera in Petersburg I was +much pleased. The opera seasons in Russia had for years been notably +fine. Since then they have, I understand, gone off, and fewer and fewer +stars of the first magnitude go there to sing. In 1880, however, it was +a criterion of artistic excellence and position to have sung in the +Petersburg Opera. My mother and I, a manager to represent me, my +coloured maid Eliza, and some seventeen or eighteen trunks set out from +Vienna; and we looked forward with pleasurable anticipation to our +winter in the mysterious White Kingdom, not knowing then that it was to +be one of the dreariest in our lives.</p> + +<p>Our troubles began just before we reached Warsaw, when we had to cross +the frontier. We were, of course, stopped for the examination of +passports and luggage and, although the former were all right, the +latter was not, according to the views of the Russian officials. I had, +personally, fifteen trunks, containing the costumes for my entire +<i>repertoire</i> and to watch those Russians inspect these trunks was a +veritable study in suspicion. It was late at night. Unpleasant +travelling incidents always happen late at night it would seem, when +everything is most inconvenient and one is most tired. The Russians +appeared ten times more official than the<a name="page_335" id="page_335"></a> officials of any other nation +ever did, and the lateness of the hour added to this impression. Indeed +they were highly picturesque, with their high boots and the long skirts +of their coats. The lanterns threw queer shadows, and the wind that +swept the platform had in it already the chill of the <i>steppes</i>. I have +no idea what they believed me to be smuggling, bombs or anarchistic +literature, but they were not satisfied until they had gone through +every trunk to its uttermost depths. Even then, when they had found +nothing more dangerous than wigs and cloaks and laces, they still seemed +doubtful. The trunks might look all right; but surely there must be +something wrong with a woman who travelled with fifteen personal trunks! +And I do not know that I altogether blame them. At all events they were +not going to let me cross the frontier without further investigation, +and I was rapidly falling into despair when, suddenly, I had a brilliant +thought. I gave an order to my maid, who proceeded to scatter about the +entire contents of one trunk and finally found for me a large, thin, +official-looking document, with seals and signatures attached to it. The +Russians stood about, watchful and mystified. Then I presented my +talisman triumphantly.</p> + +<p>"The Czar!" they exclaimed in awed whispers; "the Czar's signature!"</p> + +<p>Whereupon several of them began bowing, almost genuflecting, to show +their respect for anyone who possessed a paper signed by the Czar. It +was only my contract. The singers at the Russian Opera are not engaged +by an impresario, but by the Czar, and that document which served us so +well on this occasion was a personal contract with His Imperial Majesty +himself.</p> + +<p>So we succeeded in eventually crossing the frontier<a name="page_336" id="page_336"></a> and getting into +Russia, and, after that, the <i>espionage</i> became a regular thing. The spy +system in Russia is beyond belief. One is watched and tracked and +followed and records are kept of one, and a species of censorship is +maintained of everything that reaches one. At first, one hardly realises +this, for the officials have had so much practice that it is done with +the most consummate skill. Every letter was opened before it reached me +and then sealed up again so cleverly that it was impossible to detect it +except with the keenest and most suspicious eye. Every newspaper that I +received, even those mailed to me by friends in England and France, had +been gone over carefully, and every paragraph referring to Russia—the +army, the government, the diplomacy policy, the Nihilistic +agitations—had been stamped out in solid black.</p> + +<p>We stopped at the Hotel d'Europe, and one might think one would be free +from surveillance there. Not a bit of it. We soon saw that if we wanted +to talk with any freedom or privacy we should have to hang thick towels +over the keyholes. And this is precisely what we did!</p> + +<p>As soon as we reached Petersburg, I was called for a rehearsal—merely a +piano affair. I went to it garmented in a long fur cloak, some +flannel-lined boots that I had once bought in America for a Canadian +trip, and a little bonnet perched, in the awful fashion of the day, on +the very top of my head. It was early in October at this time and not +any colder than our normal winter climate in the United States of +America. There is but little vibration of temperature in Russia, but +there are days before November when the snow melts that are very trying. +This was one of them. The first thing that happened to me at that +rehearsal to<a name="page_337" id="page_337"></a> which I went in my flannel-lined shoes and my little +bonnet, was that a stern doctor confronted me and called me to account +for the manner in which I was dressed! A doctor at a rehearsal was new +to me; but it seemed that the thoughtful Czar employed two for this +purpose. So many singers pretended to be ill when they really were not +that His Majesty kept medical men on the spot to prove or disprove any +excuses. The doctor who descended upon me was named Thomaschewski. He +was the doctor mentioned in Marie Bashkirtseff's <i>Journal</i>; and he +remained my friend and physician all the time I was in the city. Said +he, brusquely, on this first meeting:</p> + +<p>"Never come out dressed like that again! Get some goloshes immediately, +and a hat that comes over your forehead!"</p> + +<p>I did not understand at the moment why he insisted so strongly on the +hat. I soon learned, however, what so few Americans are aware of, that +it is through the forehead that one generally catches cold. As for the +goloshes, it was self-evident that I needed them, and, after that +morning, I never set foot out of doors in Russia without the regular +protection worn by everyone in that climate. A big fur cap, tied on with +a white woollen scarf arranged as we now arrange motor veils, completed +the necessary outfit.</p> + +<p>Marcella Sembrich and Lillian Nordica were both in the opera company +that year. Sembrich had a small, high, clear voice at that time; but she +was always the musician and well up in the Italian vocal tricks. Scalchi +was there, too, and Cotogni, the famous baritone. He was a masterful +singer and an amusing man, with a quaint way of putting things. He is +still living in Rome and has, I am sorry to say, fallen from his<a name="page_338" id="page_338"></a> great +estate upon hard times. The tenors were Masini and a Russian named +Petrovitch, with whom I sang the <i>Ballo in Maschera</i>. They were all very +frankly curious about "the American <i>prima donna</i>" and about everything +concerning her. The <i>Intendant</i> of the Imperial Opera was a man with the +title of Baron Küster, the son of one of the Czar's gardeners. No one +could understand why he had been made a Baron, but, for some reason, he +was in high favour.</p> + +<p>My <i>début</i> was in <i>Traviata</i>, as Violetta. There was an enormous +audience and the American Minister was in a stage box. Throughout the +performance I never lost a sense of isolation and of chill. The +strangeness, the watchfulness, the sense of apprehension with which the +air seemed charged, were all on my nerves. It was said that the +Opera-House had been undermined by the Nihilists and was ready to +explode if the Czar entered. This idea was hardly conducive to ease of +mind or cheerfulness of manner. I was glad that it was not sufficiently +a gala occasion for the Czar to be present. Never before had I ever sung +without having friends in front, friends who could come behind the +scenes between the acts and tell me how I was doing and, if need be, +cheer me up a bit. I knew nobody in the audience that first night, which +gave me a most forlorn feeling, as if the place were filled with +unfriendliness as well as with strangers. At last I thought of the +American Minister, Mr. Foster (our legation in Russia had not yet +attained the dignity of an embassy). I sent my agent to the Fosters' +box, asking them to call upon me in my <i>loge</i> at the end of the opera. +When he delivered the message, he was met by blank astonishment.</p> + +<p>"Of course we should be delighted—and it is very<a name="page_339" id="page_339"></a> kind of Miss +Kellogg," said Mr. Foster, "but there is not a chance that we should be +allowed to do so!"</p> + +<p>And they were not.</p> + +<p>The vigilance, even on the stage, was something appalling. Every scene +shifter and stage carpenter had a big brass number fastened +conspicuously on his arm, strapped on, in fact, over his flannel shirt +so that he could be easily checked off and kept track of. Everything in +Russia is numbered. There are no individuals there—only units. I used +to feel as if I must have a number myself; as if I, too, must soon be +absorbed into that grim Monster System, and my feeling of helplessness +and oppression steadily increased.</p> + +<p>I had over twenty curtain calls that evening—the largest number I ever +had. But they did not entirely repay me for the heaviness of heart from +which I suffered. Never before or since was I so unhappy during a +performance. The house had been undoubtedly cold at first. As an +American correspondent to one of the newspapers wrote home: "The house +had small confidence in an operatic singer from America, for all history +of that country is silent on the subject of <i>prime donne</i>, while there +is no lack of account of such other persons as Indians, Aztecs, and +emigrants from the lower orders of Europe!"</p> + +<p>In Russia they still reserve the right of hissing a singer that they do +not like. It is lucky that I did not know this then, for it would have +made me even more nervous than I was. My curtain calls were a real +triumph. Even the ladies of the audience arose and waved their +handkerchiefs, calling out many times: "Kellogg, <i>sola</i>!" They wanted me +to receive the honours alone; and the gentlemen joined in their calls, +"Kellogg! Kellogg! Kellogg!" until they were hoarse.<a name="page_340" id="page_340"></a></p> + +<p>The subscribers to the opera were divided into three classes in +Petersburg; and, as a singer who was popular was demanded by all the +subscribers for each of the three nights, it was a novel sensation to +conquer an entirely new audience each night.</p> + +<p>In the Opera-House, as in every other house in Petersburg, one had to go +through innumerable doors, one after the other. This architectural +peculiarity is what makes the buildings so warm. Russians build for the +cold weather as Italians build for warm. The result is that one can be +colder in an Italian house than anywhere else on earth, and more +correspondingly comfortable in a Russian. Even the Petersburg public +Post-Office had to be approached through eight separate doorways. There +were a number of other unusual features about that theatre. One was the +custom of permitting the <i>isvoshiks</i> (drivers) and <i>mujiks</i> (servants) +to come inside to stay while the opera was going on. It struck me as +most inconsistent with the general strictness and red tape; but it was +entertaining to see them stowed away in layers on ledges along the +walls, sleeping peacefully until the people who had engaged them were +ready to go home. Another odd thing was the odour that permeated the +house. It was not an unpleasant odour; it seemed to me a little like +Russia leather. I could not imagine what it was at first. Afterwards I +found that it <i>did</i> come from the sheep-skins worn by the <i>isvoshiks</i>. +The skins are cured in some peculiar way which leaves them with this +faint smell.</p> + +<p>The thing I particularly appreciated that first night was the honour and +good fortune of making my <i>début</i> with Masini, who, according to my +opinion, was without exception the best tenor of his time. He would +have<a name="page_341" id="page_341"></a> pleased the most exacting of modern critics, for he was the true +<i>bel canto</i>. It is told of him that, in the early years of his career, +he sang so badly out of tune that no impresario would bother with him. +So he retired, and worked, until he had not only overcome it but had +also made himself into a very great artist. The night before I sang with +him, I went to hear him. At first I thought his voice a trifle husky, +but, before the evening was over, I did not know if it were husky or +not, he sang so beautifully, his method was so perfect, his +breath-control was so wonderful. It was a naturally enchanting voice +besides. I have never heard a length of breath like his. No phrase ever +troubled him; he had the necessary wind for anything. In <i>L'Africaine</i> +there is a passage in the big tenor solo needing very careful breathing. +Masini did simply what he liked with it, swelling it out roundly and +generously when it seemed as if his breath must be exhausted. When the +breath of other tenors gave out, Masini only just began to draw on his. +I am placing all this emphasis on his method because I know breathing to +be the whole secret of singing—and of living, too! Masini was a grave, +kind man, not a great actor, but with a stage presence of complete +repose and dignity. His manner to me was charmingly thoughtful and +considerate during our work together. Yet he was a man who never spoke. +I mean this literally: I cannot recall the sound of his speaking voice, +although I rehearsed with him for a whole season. His greatest <i>rôle</i> +was the Duke in <i>Rigoletto</i> and there was no one I ever heard who could +compare with him in it.</p> + +<p>Nordica was a young singer doing minor <i>rôles</i> that season and, both +being Americans, we saw a good deal of each other and exchanged +sympathies, for we equally<a name="page_342" id="page_342"></a> disliked Russia. Our Yankee independence was +being constantly outraged by the Russian spy system, and we were always +at odds with it. One night, when we were not singing ourselves, we had a +box together to hear our fellow-artists, and invited Sir Frederick +Hamilton to share it with us. As we knew there was sure to be a crowd +after the opera, Nordica suggested that we should leave our wraps in an +empty dressing-room behind the scenes and go out by that way when the +performance was over. This we accordingly did, going behind through the +house by the back door of the boxes, and as a matter of course we took +Sir Frederick with us. We had momentarily forgotten that in Russia one +never does what one wants to, or what seems the natural thing to do. +When we were discovered bringing an Englishman behind the scenes, there +was nearly a revolution in that theatre!</p> + +<p>I sang in <i>Traviata</i> four or five times in Petersburg and in <i>Don +Giovanni</i> and in <i>Semiramide</i>. This last was the forty-fifth <i>rôle</i> of +my <i>répertoire</i>. The Russian Opera season was less brilliant than usual +that year because the Czarina had recently died and the Court was in +mourning. The situation was one that afforded me some amusement. The +Czar, Alexander, who was killed that same winter, had for a long time +lived with the Princess Dolgoruki, as is well known, and, when the +Czarina died, he married the Dolgoruki within a few weeks. To be sure, +the marriage did not really count, for she could never be a Czarina +because she was not royal, but she was determined to establish her +social position as his wife and insisted on keeping him in the country +with her at one of the out-of-the-way places. And all the time the Czar +went right on with his official mourning for the Czarina! There was +something<a name="page_343" id="page_343"></a> about this that strongly appealed to my American sense of +humour. When the Czar did finally leave the country palace and come back +to Petersburg, he was in such fear of the Nihilists that he did not dare +come in state, but got off the train at a way-station and drove in. +Fancy the Czar of all the Russias having to sneak into his own city like +that! And the worst of it was that all that vigilance was proved soon +after to have been justified. Because of the situation of affairs, the +Royal Box at the Opera was never occupied. Even the Czarevitch and his +wife (Dagmar of Denmark, sister of Alexandra of England) could not +appear. I am inclined to believe that, on the whole, Petersburg society +was rather glad of the dull season. As there were no Court functions, +the individual social leaders did not have to keep up their end either, +and it must have been a relief, for times were hard, owing to the recent +Nihilistic panic, and Russians do not know how to entertain unless they +can do it magnificently. As a result of the dull social season, I did +not go out much in society. But I was much interested in such glimpses +as I had of it, for "smart" Russia is most gorgeously picturesque. Many +Americans visit Petersburg in summer when everyone is away and so never +see the true Russian life. Indeed, it is a very stunning spectacle. The +sleighs, the splendid liveries, the beautiful horses, the harnesses, the +superb furs—it is all like a pageant. I loved to see the <i>troikas</i> +drawn by three horses, with great gold ornaments on the harnesses; and +the <i>drozhkis</i> in which the <i>isvoshiks</i> drive standing up. The third +horse of the <i>troika</i> is one of the typically Russian features. He is +attached to the pair that does the work, and his part is to play the +fool.</p> + +<p>I remember a famous sleigh ride I had in a very<a name="page_344" id="page_344"></a> smart <i>drozhki</i>, behind +a horse belonging to one of the English Embassy secretaries. The horse +was an extraordinarily fast one and the <i>drozhki</i> was exceptionally +light and small. The seat was so narrow that the secretary and I had to +be literally buttoned into it to keep us from falling out. The +<i>isvoshik's</i> seat was so high that he was practically standing erect and +nearly leaning back against it. Evidently the man's directions were to +show off the horse's gait to the best advantage; and I know that the +speed of that frail sleigh upon the icy snow crust became so terrific +that I had to grip the sash of the <i>isvoshik</i> in front of me to stay in +the sleigh at all.</p> + +<p>And, oh, the flatness and mournfulness of those chill wastes of snow +outside the city! It was of course bitterly cold, but one did not feel +that so much on account of the fine dryness of the air. For me the +light—or, rather, the lack of it,—was the most difficult thing to +become accustomed to. But if I did not altogether realise the cold for +myself, I certainly realised it for my poor horses. I had a splendid +pair of blacks that winter and, when I was driven down to the theatre, +they would be lathered with sweat. When I came out they would be covered +with ice and as white as snow. There would be ice on the harness too, +and the other horses we passed were in the same condition. I was much +distressed at first, but it appeared that Russian horses were quite used +to it and, so I was told, actually throve on it.</p> + +<p>Petersburg is full of little squares and in every square were heaps of +logs, laid one across another like a funeral pyre, which were frequently +lighted as a place for the <i>isvoshiks</i> to warm themselves. The leaping +flames and the men crowded about, in such contrast to<a name="page_345" id="page_345"></a> the white snow, +seemed so startling and theatrical in the heart of the city that nothing +could have more sharply reminded us that we were in a strange and +unknown land.</p> + +<p>The fact that the days were so unbelievably, gloomily short (dawn and +bright noonday and the afternoon were unknown) grew to be very +depressing. Coasting on the great ice-hills is a favourite Russian +amusement, and it is a fine winter sport. But that, too, is shadowed by +the strange half-light, which, to anyone accustomed to the long, bright +days of more temperate lands, is always conducive to melancholy. There +was no sun to speak of. Such as there was moved around in almost one +place and stopped shining at four in the afternoon. I never had the +least idea of the time; hardly knowing, in fact, whether it was day or +night.<a name="page_346" id="page_346"></a></p> + +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XXXII" id="CHAPTER_XXXII"></a>CHAPTER XXXII<br /><br /> +GOOD-BYE TO RUSSIA—AND THEN?</h2> + +<p class="nind"><span class="letra">P</span>RINCE Oldenburg, the Czar's cousin, was the only member of the Royal +Family who could be called a patron of music and had himself composed +more or less. On his seventy-fifth birthday the Imperial Opera organised +a concert in his honour, that took place at the Winter Palace; and we +were really quite <i>intriguée</i>, having heard of the Winter Palace for +years. I said to Nordica:</p> + +<p>"If you'll find out how we get there, I'll send my carriage for you and +we will go together."</p> + +<p>She found out, and we arranged to have the hotel people instruct the +coachman as to the particular entrance of the palace to which he was to +drive us, for he was a Russian and did not understand any other +language. Once started, he had to go according to instructions or else +turn around and take me back to the hotel for new directions and a fresh +start. More than once have I found myself in such a dilemma. However, on +this occasion, he seemed to be fairly clear as to our destination and +showed gleams of intelligence when reminded that he must make no +mistake, since there were only certain doors by which we could enter. +The others were open only to the Royal Family and the nobility.</p> + +<p>Among the five <i>prime donne</i> who had been invited,<a name="page_347" id="page_347"></a> or, rather, +commanded, to appear at this function, there had been some discussion as +to our costumes. All of them except myself sent for special gowns, one +to Paris, one to Vienna, one to Berlin, one to Dresden—for this concert +was to be before members of the Imperial Family and extra preparations +had to be made.</p> + +<p>"What are you going to wear?" Nordica asked me.</p> + +<p>"Well," said I, "I'll never be in Russia again—God permitting—and I +shall wear a gown that I have, a creation of Worth's, made some years +ago, without period or date." It was really a gorgeous affair and quite +good enough, of an odd, warm, rust colour that was always very becoming +to me.</p> + +<p>We arrived at the palace before anyone else and were driven to the door +indicated. There we were not permitted to enter, but were directed to +yet another entrance. Again we met with the same refusal and were sent +on to another door. At last we drove in under a porte-cochère and an +endless stream of lackeys came out and took charge of us. When they had +escorted us inside, one took one golosh, and one took another, and then +they took off our furs and wraps, and there was no escape for us except +by mounting the beautiful red-carpeted marble staircase. At the top of +it we were met by two very good-looking young men in uniform, who +received us cordially and escorted us to the ballroom, leaving us only +when the other artists arrived. The other artists looked cross, I +thought. At any rate, they looked somewhat ill at ease and conscious of +their elegant new clothes. It was the crackling, ample period, in which +it was difficult to be graceful. About the middle of the evening Dr. +Thomaschewski came up to me and said:<a name="page_348" id="page_348"></a></p> + +<p>"The Grand Duchess Olga desires me to ask who made Mlle. Kellogg's gown. +She finds it the handsomest she ever saw!"</p> + +<p>So much for my old clothes! I was thankful to be able to say the gown +was a creation of Worth's; and I did not add how many years before! The +next day, after the affair of the concert was pleasantly over, Nordica +came into my room like a whirlwind.</p> + +<p>"There's the d—— to pay down in the theatre!" she exclaimed +breathlessly. "All the other <i>prime donne</i> are threatening to resign! +And, apparently, it is our fault!"</p> + +<p>"What have we done?"</p> + +<p>"It seems," she went on with an appreciative chuckle, "that we came up +the Royal Staircase and were received as members of the Imperial Family, +while they had to come in the back way as befitted poor dogs of +artists!"</p> + +<p>"Nordica," said I, "isn't that just plain American luck! Such a thing +could never happen to anybody but an American!"</p> + +<p>We learned in due course that our handsome young men, who had been so +agreeable and courteous, were Grand Dukes! But the other <i>prime donne</i> +recovered from their mortification and thought better of their project +of resigning.</p> + +<p>We began to be frightfully tired of Russian food. The Russian +arrangement for cold storage was very primitive. They merely froze solid +anything they wanted to keep and unfroze it when it was needed for use. +The staple for every day, and all day, was <i>gelinotte</i>, some sort of +game. We lived on it until we were ready to starve rather than ever +taste it again. It was not so bad, really, in its way, if there had not +been so much of it. Some of the Russian food was possible<a name="page_349" id="page_349"></a> enough, +however. The famous sour milk soup, for instance, made of curdled milk +and cabbage and, I think, a little fish, was rather nice; and they had a +pretty way of serving <i>bouchers</i> between the soup and fish courses. But +my mother and I began to feel that we should die if we did not have some +plain American food. In fact, we both developed a vulgar craving for +corned-beef. And, wonder of wonders! by inquiring at a little shop where +garden tools were sold, we found the thing we longed for. As it turned +out, the shop was kept by an American and his wife; so we got our +corned-beef and my mother made delicious hash of it over our alcohol +lamp. She was famous for getting up all manner of dainty and delicious +food with a minute saucepan and a tiny spirit flame.</p> + +<p>The water everywhere was horrid and we were obliged to boil it always +before we dared to take a swallow. And all these things told on my poor +mother, whose health was becoming very wretched. She came to hate Russia +and pined to get away. So I tried to break my contract and leave +(considering my mother's health a sufficiently valid reason), but, +although money was due me that I was willing to forfeit, I found I could +not go until I had sung out the full term of my engagement. I was so +wrathful at this that I went to see the American Minister about leaving +in spite of everything; but even he was powerless to help us. Apparently +the Russians were accustomed to having their country prove too much for +foreign singers, for the Minister remarked meditatively:</p> + +<p>"Finland used to be open, but so many artists escaped that way that it +is now closed!"</p> + +<p>It proved to be even harder to get out of Russia than it had been to get +in. One mother and daughter whom<a name="page_350" id="page_350"></a> I knew went to five hotels in +twenty-four hours, trying to evade the officials, so as to leave without +the usual red tape; but they were kept merciless track of everywhere and +their passports sent for at every one of the five. Such proceedings must +be rather expensive for the government. Some Russian friends of mine +once came to Aix without notifying their governmental powers and were +sent for to come back within twenty-four hours. Fancy being kept track +of like that! I am devoutly thankful that I do not live under a +<i>paternal</i> government. In time, however, we did succeed in obtaining +permission to leave Russia; and profoundly glad were we of it. I had but +one desire before we left that dark and frigid land forever, and that +was to see the Czar just once. My friends of the English Embassy told me +that my best chance would be on the route between the Winter Palace and +the Military Riding Academy, where the Czar went every Sunday to +stimulate horsemanship. So I started out the following Sunday, alone, in +my brougham.</p> + +<p>There were crowds of the faithful blocking the way everywhere—well +interspersed with Nihilists, I have little doubt. Russian men are, on +the whole, impressive in appearance; big and fierce and immensely +virile. They are half-savage, anyway. The better class wear coats lined +and trimmed with black or silver fur; while a crowd of soldiers and +peasants make a most picturesque sight. On this occasion the cavalry and +mounted police patrolled the route, and ranks of soldiers were drawn up +on either side. Yet there was such a surging populace that, in spite of +all the military surveillance, there was some confusion. I was driven up +and down very slowly. Then I grew cold and got out of the carriage to +walk for a short distance. I had gone but a<a name="page_351" id="page_351"></a> little way and was turning +back when I felt a hand on my shoulder. It was an official who informed +me that I might drive but could not be permitted to walk! So I +re-entered the brougham and was driven again, up and down, bowing +sweetly each time to the officer who had halted me and dared to take me +by the shoulder. And, finally, I caught only a glimpse of the Czar, +through the hosts of guardians that surrounded him like a cloud. I could +not believe that he cared for all that pomp and ceremony, for he was a +weary-looking man and I felt sorry for him. I believe that he would have +been as democratic as anyone could well be if he could only have had +half a chance. The wife of the shop-keeper who sold garden tools told me +that the Czar was perfectly accessible to them and very friendly. He +liked new inventions and patents and ingenious farming implements and +American machine inventions. A man I once knew had been trying for +months to obtain an official introduction at Court in order to exploit a +patent which he thought would interest His Majesty, and in vain. But, +when he chanced to meet a friend of the Czar's in a picture gallery and +told him about his idea, he had no further difficulty. His Minister, who +had told him it was hopeless to try to get access to the Czar, was +amazed to find him going about at the Court balls in the most intimate +manner.</p> + +<p>"How did you do it?" he demanded. "How did you manage to reach the +Czar?"</p> + +<p>"Just met him through a friend as I would any other fellow," was the +reply.</p> + +<p>We were in Petersburg at the Christmas and New Year's celebrations, +which are held two weeks later than ours are. The customs were odd and +interesting—notably the one of driving out in a sleigh to "meet the<a name="page_352" id="page_352"></a> +New Year coming in." This pretty custom was always observed by Mme. +Helena Modjeska and her husband, Count Bozenta, even in America. I went +to services in several of the churches, where I heard divine singing, +unaccompanied by any instrument. The vibrations were very slow and +throbbed like the tones of an organ. Nothing can be more splendid than +bass voices. The decorations of the churches were strange and barbaric +to eyes accustomed to the Italian and French cathedrals. The savagery as +well as the orientalism of the Russians comes out in a curious way in +their ecclesiastical architecture. The walls were often inlaid with +lapis and malachite, like the decorations of some Eastern temple, and +the <i>ikons</i> were painted gaudily upon metals. There were no pews of any +sort; the populace dropped upon its knees and stayed there.</p> + +<p>The little wayside shrines erected over every spot where anything tragic +had ever happened to a royal person are an interesting feature of +worship in Russia. As the rulers of Russia have usually passed rather +calamitous lives, there are plenty of these shrines, and loyal subjects +always kneel and make them reverence. I could see one of these shrines +from my window in the Hotel d'Europe and marvelled at the devout fervour +of the kneeling men in their picturesque cloaks, praying for this or +some other Emperor, with the thermometer far below zero. It was always +the men who prayed. I do not remember ever seeing a woman on her knees +in the snow.</p> + +<p>Our experiences in the shops of Petersburg were sometimes interesting. +Of course in the larger ones French was spoken, and also German, but in +the small places where "notions" were sold, or writing materials, only +Russian was understood. To facilitate the shopping<a name="page_353" id="page_353"></a> of foreigners, +little pictures of every conceivable thing for sale were hung outside +the shops. All one had to do was to point to the reproduction of a +spool, or a safety pin, or an egg, or a trunk, and produce a pocketbook. +One day my mother wanted some shoe buttons and we wagered that she could +not buy them unaided. I felt sure there would be no painting of a shoe +button on the shop wall. But she came back victoriously with the +buttons, quite proud of herself because she had thought of pointing to +her own boots instead of wasting time hunting among the pictures.</p> + +<p>It was the collection of Colonel Villiers that first awakened in me an +interest in old silver, and the beginning I made in Russia that winter +ended in my possessing a collection of value and beauty. Villiers was a +member of the Duke of Buckingham's family and was a Queen's Messenger, a +position of responsibility and trust. And I had several other friends at +the British Embassy. Lord and Lady Dufferin I knew; and one of the +secretaries, Mr. Alan, now Sir Alan Johnston, who married Miss +Antoinette Pinchot, sister of Gifford Pinchot, I had first met in +Vienna. The night that Villiers arrived in Petersburg (before I had met +him) some of the English <i>attachés</i> had been invited to dine with us; +but the First Secretary arrived at the last moment to explain that the +Queen's Messenger was expected with private letters and that they had to +be received in person and handed in at Court promptly.</p> + +<p>"It's the only way they have of sending really private letters, you +see," he explained. "Alexandra probably wants to tell Dagmar about the +children's last attacks of indigestion, so we have to stay at home to +receive the letters!"</p> + +<p>Well—the glad day did finally come when my mother<a name="page_354" id="page_354"></a> and I turned our +backs on Russia and its eternal twilight and repaired to Nice for a +little amusement and recuperation after the Petersburg season. A number +of our friends were there, and it was unusually gay. I was warmly +welcomed and congratulated, for Petersburg had put the final <i>cachet</i> +upon my success. Although I might win other honours, I could win none +that the world appraised more highly than those that had come to me that +year. In a letter to my father, from Nice, my mother says:</p> + +<div class="blockquot"><p>The Grand Duke Nicholas has been here in our hotel a month, and his +two sons and suite, doctor, <i>Aide-de-camp</i>. and servants. There is +an inside balcony running two sides of the hotel which is lovely: +but the whole is square with other rooms—this width +carpeted—sofa—chairs—table—a glass roof. We all assemble there +after dinner, and sit around and talk, take <i>café</i> and tea on +little tables.... We sat every day after dinner close to the Grand +Duke (the Czar's brother) and his suite; knew his doctor and +finally the Duke and his sons. I was sitting on the balcony, +because I could see everybody who came in or who went out, and I +was looking down and saw the Grand Duke receive the despatch of the +assassination—and the commotion and emotion was the most exciting +thing I ever witnessed. The Grand Duke is a most amiable gentleman, +sweet and good as a man can be; his son, sixteen, was the loveliest +and most gentle and affectionate of sons. I looked at the Duke all +the time. I was almost upset myself by the excitement. Despatches +came every twenty minutes. I looked on—sat there <i>seven hours</i>. As +the Russians outside heard of it they would come in—I saw two +women cry—the Duke stayed in his room—I heard that he had +fainted—he is in somewhat delicate health.... It seemed as if the +others were looking around for their friends and for sympathy, as +was natural. I had not talked much with the Doctor because<a name="page_355" id="page_355"></a> I never +felt equal to it in French—especially on ordinary subjects of +conversation—but he looked up and saw me on the balcony and came +directly to me. I took both his hands—the tears came into his +eyes—and we <i>talked</i>—the words came to me, enough to show him we +were his friends. I said America would sympathise with Russia. He +seemed pleased and said, "Yes; but Angleterre, no!" I did not have +much to say to that. But I did him good. He told Louise and me the +particulars. We both knew the very spot near the bridge where the +Czar had fallen. Our sympathy was mostly with the man whose brother +had been murdered and his friends. There was a long book downstairs +in which people who came in wrote their names from time to time. I +do not understand it exactly, but Louise says it contains the names +of those who feel an allegiance. Many Russians came in the day of +the assassination and wrote their names. Our Consul wrote his, and +a beautiful sentence of sympathy. He wanted to lower our flag, but +dared not, quite. Louise and I went down and wrote ours—and, while +standing, the Duke's physician said to us that there had not been +one English name signed. The hotel is all English, nearly. It was +an interesting, eventful day. The Duke was pleased when Louise told +him his people had been very kind to her in Russia at Petersburg. +They all left day before yesterday at 6 <span class="smcap">P.M.</span></p></div> + +<p>The assassination of the Czar took place three weeks to the day from +that Sunday when I had seen him. It all came back to me very clearly, of +course—the troops, the crowding people, and the snow. No wonder they +were watchful of him, poor man!</p> + +<p>The bottom dropped out of the season at Nice and people began to flit +away. The tragedy of the Czar's death spread a shadow over everything. +Nobody felt much like merry-making or recreation, and, again, I was +becoming restless—restless in a new way.<a name="page_356" id="page_356"></a></p> + +<p>"Mother," I said, "let's go back to America. I have had enough of Nice +and Petersburg and Paris and Vienna and London. I'm tired to death of +foreign countries and foreign ways and foreign audiences and foreign +honours. I want to go home!"</p> + +<p>"Thank God!" said my mother.<a name="page_357" id="page_357"></a></p> + +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XXXIII" id="CHAPTER_XXXIII"></a>CHAPTER XXXIII<br /><br /> +THE LAST YEARS OF MY PROFESSIONAL CAREER</h2> + +<p class="nind"><span class="letra">A</span>T Villefranche, on our way to Nice, I had been given a formal reception +by the officers of the flagship <i>Trenton</i>, that was then lying in the +harbour. Admiral Dahlgren was in command, and the reception was more of +a tribute to the <i>prima donna</i> than a personal tribute. It was arranged +under the auspices of Lieutenant Emory and Lieutenant Clover; and I did +not sing. Emory was a natural social leader and the whole affair was +perfect in detail. A much more interesting reception, however, arranged +by Lieutenant Emory, was the informal one given me by the same hosts not +long after. Although informal, it was conducted on the same lines of +elegance that marked every social function with which Emory was ever +connected. As soon as we appeared on the gun deck, accompanied by +Lieutenant-Commander Gridley, to be presented to Captain Ramsay, the +orchestra greeted us with the familiar strains of <i>Hail, Columbia!</i> At +the end of the <i>déjeuner</i> the whole crew contemplated us from afar as I +conversed with our hosts, and, realising what might be expected of me, I +sang, as soon as the orchestra had adjusted their instruments, the solo +of Violetta from <i>Traviata</i>: <i>Ah force e lui che l'anima</i>. As an +<i>encore</i> I sang <i>Down on the Suwanee River</i>. The orchestra not being +able to accompany me, I accompanied myself<a name="page_358" id="page_358"></a> on a banjo that happened to +be handy. I was told afterwards that "the one sweet, familiar plantation +melody was better to us than a dozen Italian cavatinas." After the +<i>Suwanee River</i>, I sang yet another negro melody, <i>The Yaller Gal +Dressed in Blue</i>, which was received with much appreciative laughter.</p> + +<p>On our way from Nice we went to Milan to visit the Exposition, which was +an artistically interesting one, and at which we happened to see the +father and mother of the present King of Italy. From Milan we went to +Aix-les-Bains; and from there to Paris.</p> + +<p>I returned to America without an engagement; but on October 5th the +Kellogg Concert Company, under the management of Messrs. Pond and +Bachert, gave the first concert of a series in Music Hall, Boston. I was +supported by Brignoli, the "silver-voiced tenor," Signer Tagliapietra, +and Miss Alta Pease, contralto. With us, also, were Timothie Adamowski, +the Polish violinist; Liebling, the pianist, and the Weber Quartette. My +reception in America, after nearly two years' absence abroad, was, +really, almost an ovation. But I want to say that Boston has always been +particularly gracious and cordial to me. By way of showing how +appreciative was my reception, I cannot resist giving an extract from +the <i>Boston Transcript</i> of the following morning:</p> + +<div class="blockquot"><p>Her singing of her opening number, Filina's <i>Polonaise</i> in +<i>Mignon</i>, showed at once that she had brought back to us unimpaired +both her voice and her exquisite art; that she is now, as formerly, +the wonderfully finished singer with the absolutely beautiful and +true soprano voice. Her stage experience during the past few years, +singing taxing grand soprano parts, so different and more trying to +the vocal<a name="page_359" id="page_359"></a> physique than the light florid parts, the Aminas, +Zerlinas, and Elviras, she began by singing, seems to have had no +injurious effect upon the quality and trueness of her voice, which +has ever been fine and delicate; just the sort of beautiful voice +which one would fear to expose to much intense dramatic wear and +tear. Its present perfect purity only proves how much may be dared +by a singer who can trust to a thoroughly good method.</p></div> + +<p>In the following May I sang with Max Strakosch's opera company in +Providence to an exceptionally large audience. One of the daily +newspapers of the city said, in reference to this occasion:</p> + +<div class="blockquot"><p>Miss Kellogg must take it as a compliment to herself personally, +for the other artists were unknown here, and therefore it must have +been her name that attracted so many. She has always been popular +here, and has made many personal as well as professional friends. +She must have added many more of the latter last night, for she +never appeared to better advantage. She was well supported by +Signor Giannini as Faust [we gave <i>Faust</i> and I was Marguerite] and +Signor Mancini as Mephistopheles.</p></div> + +<p>This same year, 1882, I went on a concert trip through the South. In New +Orleans I had a peep into the wonderful pawnshops, large, spacious, all +filled with beautiful things. I had long been a collector of pewter and +silver and old furniture and, on this trip, took advantage of some of my +opportunities. For instance, I bought the bureau that had belonged to +Barbara Frietchie, and a milk jug and some spoons that had belonged to +Henry Clay. Also, I visited Libby Prison and various other prisons, a +battle-field, and several cemeteries. One cemetery was half filled with +the graves of boys of seventeen, eighteen, and nineteen<a name="page_360" id="page_360"></a> years of age, +showing that in the Civil War the South could not have kept it up much +longer. The sight was pitiful!</p> + +<p>In 1884 I went on a concert tour with Major Pond in the West, making of +it so far as we could, as Pond said, something of a picnic. We crossed +by the Northern Pacific, seeing, I remember, the ranch of the Duc de +Morney, son of the Duc de Morney who was one of Louis Philippe's +creations, and who had married the daughter of a wealthy ranchman, Baron +von Hoffman. The house of his ancestor in the Champs Élysées and the +house next door that he built for his mistress were points of interest +in Paris when I first went there. In Miles City, on the way to Helena, +Montana, we visited some of the gambling dens, and were interested in +learning that the wildest and worst one in the place was run by a +Harvard graduate. The streets of the town were strangely deserted and +this we did not understand until a woman said to me:</p> + +<p>"Umph! they don't show themselves when respectable people come along!"</p> + +<p>My memory of the trip and of the Yellowstone Park consists of a series +of strangely beautiful and primitive pictures. We passed through a +prairie fire, when the atmosphere was so hot and dense that extra +pressure of steam was put on our locomotive to rush our train through +it. Never before had I seen Indian women carrying their papooses. I +particularly recall one settlement of wigwams on a still, wonderful +evening, the chiefs gorgeous in their blankets, when the fires were +being lighted and the spirals of smoke were ascending straight up into +the clear atmosphere. One day a couple of Indians ran after the train. +They looked very fine as they ran and finally succeeded in getting<a name="page_361" id="page_361"></a> on +to the rear platform, where they rode for some distance. At Deer Lodge I +sang all of one evening to two fine specimens of Indian manhood. We went +down the Columbia River in a boat, greatly enjoying the impressive +scenery. One of my most vivid mental impressions was that of an Indian +fisherman, standing high out over the rushing waters, at least forty +feet up, on a projection of some kind that had been built for the +purpose of salmon fishing, his graceful, vigorous bronze form clearly +silhouetted against the background of rock and foliage and sky. On the +banks of the river farther along we saw a circus troupe boiling their +supper in a huge caldron and smoking the <i>kalama</i> or peace pipe. I was +so hungry I wanted to eat of the caldron's contents but, on second +thoughts, refrained. And we stopped at Astoria where the canning of +salmon was done, a town built out over the river on piles. The forest +fires had caused some confusion and, for one while, we could hardly +breathe because of the smoke. Indeed we travelled days and days through +that smoke. The first cowboy I ever saw drove me from the station of +Livingston through Yellowstone Park. In Butte City my company went down +into the Clarke Copper Mine, but I did not care to join them in the +undertaking. Our first sight of Puget Sound was very beautiful. And it +was at Puget Sound that I first saw half-, or, rather, quarter-breeds. I +remember Pond saying how quickly the half-breeds die of consumption.</p> + +<p>Later, that same year, I went South again on another concert tour. All +through the State of Mississippi there was a strange, horrible flavour +to the food, I recall, and, so all-pervading was this flavour that +finally I could hardly eat anything. The contralto and I were talking +about it one day on the train and saying how glad we<a name="page_362" id="page_362"></a> should be to get +away from it. There being no parlour-cars, we were in an ordinary coach, +and a woman who sat in front of me and overheard us, turned around and +said:</p> + +<p>"<i>I</i> know what you mean! <i>I</i> can tell you what it is. It's cotton seed. +Everything tastes of cotton seed in this country. They feed their cows +on it, and their chickens. <i>Everything</i> tastes of it; eggs, butter, +biscuits, milk!"</p> + +<p>This was true. The only thing, it seems, that could not be raised on +cotton seed was fruit; and unfortunately it was not a fruit season when +I was there.</p> + +<p>The recollection of this trip necessitates my saying a little something +of Southern hospitality. I was not satisfied with any of the +arrangements that had been made for me. I had also taken a severe cold, +and, when we reached Charlottesville, where we were to give a concert, I +said I would not go on. This brought matters to a climax. I simply would +not and could not sing in the condition I was; and declared I would not +be subjected to any such treatment at the insistence of the management. +The end of it was that I took my maid and started for New York.</p> + +<p>The trip at first promised to be a very uncomfortable one. Travelling +accommodations were poor; food was difficult to obtain, and I was nearly +ill. At one point, where the opening of a new bridge had just taken +place, we stopped, and I noticed a private car attached to our train, +which I coveted. Imagine my gratitude and pleasure, therefore, when the +porter presently came to me and said courteously that "Colonel Cawyter" +sent his compliments and invited me into his private car. I accepted, of +course. But this was not all. As I was making inquiries about train +connections and facilities<a name="page_363" id="page_363"></a> for food, of one of the gentlemen in the +car, he realised what was before me, and said that I could go to his +home where his wife would care for me. I protested, but he insisted and +gave me his card. When we reached the station, I took a carriage and +drove to the house, where I was received very courteously. It was a +simple household of a mother, grandmother, and children, and they had +already lunched when I got there. But they piled on more coal, and in a +very short time made me a lunch that was simply delicious—all so +easily, simply, and naturally, in spite of the haphazard fashion in +which they seemed to live, as to quite win my admiration. And this +incident of Southern hospitality enabled me to proceed on my way +nourished and restored.</p> + +<p>Another incident that I recall was of a similar nature in its +fundamental kindness. I had no money with which to pay for my berth, and +was asking the conductor if there was anyone who would cash a check for +me, when a perfect stranger offered me the amount I needed. At first I +refused, but finally consented to accept the loan in the same spirit in +which it had been offered.</p> + +<p>On the reorganised version of this trip we went down into Texas, giving +concerts in Waco, Dallas, Cheyenne, San Antonio, and Galveston, among +other places. This was before the wonderful railroad had been built that +runs for miles through the water; and before the tidal wave that wiped +the old Galveston out of existence. At Cheyenne, I remember, we had to +ford a river to keep our engagement. At Waco a negro was found under the +bed of one of the company; a bridge was burning; and a <i>posse</i> of men, +with bloodhounds, was starting out to track the incendiaries. I remember +speaking there with a negro woman who had a white<a name="page_364" id="page_364"></a> child in her charge. +The child was busily chewing gum and the woman told me that often the +child would put her hand on her jaw saying, "Oh, I'm <i>so</i> tired!" But +she could not be induced to stop chewing! At Dallas we sang in a hall +that had a tin roof, and, during the concert, a terrific thunderstorm +came on, so that I had to stop singing. This is the only time, I +believe, that the elements ever succeeded in drowning me out. I never +before had seen adobe houses, and I found San Antonio very interesting, +and drove as far as I could along the road of the old Spanish Missions +that maintain the traditions and aspects of the Spanish in the New +World. The Southern theatres are the dirtiest places that can be +imagined; and I recall eating opossum that was served to us with great +pride by my waiter.</p> + +<p>From this time on I did not contemplate any long engagements. I did not +care for them, although I sometimes went to places to sing—and to +collect pewter!</p> + +<p>I never formally retired from public life, but quietly stopped when it +seemed to me the time had come. It was a Kansas City newspaper reporter +who incidentally brought home to me the fact that I was no longer very +young. I had a few grey hairs, and, after an interview granted to this +representative of the press—a woman, by the way—I found, on reading +the interview in print the next day, that my grey hairs had been +mentioned.</p> + +<p>"They'll find that my voice is getting grey next," I said to myself.</p> + +<p>I really wanted to stop before everybody would be saying, "You ought to +have heard her sing ten years ago!"</p> + +<p class="figcenter"> +<a href="images/carl_strakosch_lg.jpg"> +<img src="images/carl_strakosch_sml.jpg" width="305" height="550" alt="Carl Strakosch + +From a photograph by H. W. Barnett" title="" /></a> +<br /> +<span class="caption"><b>Carl Strakosch</b><br /> + +From a photograph by H. W. Barnett</span> +</p> + +<p><a name="page_365" id="page_365"></a></p> + +<p>The last time I saw Patti I said to her:</p> + +<p>"Adelina, have you got through singing?"</p> + +<p>"Oh, I still sing for <i>mes pauvres</i> in London," she replied; but she +didn't explain who were her poor.</p> + +<p>On my last western concert tour I sang at Oshkosh. A special train of +three cars on the Central brought down a large delegation for the +occasion from Fond du Lac, Ripon, Neenah and Menasha, Appleton and other +neighbouring towns. The audience was in the best of humour and a +particularly sympathetic one. At the close of the concert I remarked +that it was one of the finest audiences I ever sang to. And I added, by +way of pleasantry, that, having sung at Oshkosh, I was now indeed ready +to leave the stage!</p> + +<p>But there were even more serious reasons that influenced me in my +decision, one of which was that my mother had for some time past been in +a poor state of health. More than once, when I went to the theatre, I +had the feeling that she might not be alive when I returned home; and +this was a nervous strain to me that, combined with a severe attack of +bronchitis, brought about a physical condition which might have had +seriously lasting results if I had not taken care of myself in time.</p> + +<p>It was not easy to stop. When each autumn came around, it was very +difficult not to go back to the public. I had an empty feeling. There is +no sensation in the world like singing to an audience and knowing that +you have it with you. I would not change my experience for that of any +crowned head. The singer and the actor have, at least, the advantage +over all other artists of a personal recognition of their success; +although, of course, the painter and writer live in their work while the +singer and the actor become only<a name="page_366" id="page_366"></a> traditions. But such traditions! On +the subject of the actor's traditions Edwin Booth has written:</p> + +<div class="blockquot"><p>In the main, tradition to the actor is as true as that which the +sculptor perceives in Angelo, the painter in Raphael, and the +musician in Beethoven.... Tradition, if it be traced through pure +channels and to the fountainhead, leads one as near to Nature as +can be followed by her servant, Art. Whatever Quinn, Barton Booth, +Garrick, and Cooke gave to stagecraft, or as we now term it, +"business," they received from their predecessors; from Betterton +and perhaps from Shakespeare himself, who, though not distinguished +as an actor, well knew what acting should be; and what they +inherited in this way they bequeathed in turn to their art and we +should not despise it. Kean knew without seeing Cooke, who in turn +knew from Macklin, and so back to Betterton, just what to do and +how to do it. Their great Mother Nature, who reiterates her +teachings and preserves her monotone in motion, form, and sound, +taught them. There must be some similitude in all things that are +True!</p></div> + +<p>The traditions of singing are not what they used to be, however, for the +new school of opera does not require great finish, although it does +demand greater dramatic art. It used to be that Tetrazzinis could make +successes through coloratura singing alone; but to-day coloratura +singing has no great hold on the public after the novelty has worn off. +But it does very well in combination with heavier music, as in Mozart's +<i>Magic Flute</i> or <i>The Huguenots</i>, and so modern singers have to be both +coloraturists and dramaticists. <i>A propos</i> of singing and methods, I +append a newspaper interview that a reporter had with me in Paris, 1887. +He had been shown a new dinner dress of white <i>moire</i> with ivy leaves +woven into the tissue, and writes:<a name="page_367" id="page_367"></a></p> + +<p class="figcenter"> +<a href="images/letter_pg_1_lg.jpg"> +<img src="images/letter_pg_1_sml.jpg" width="361" height="550" alt="Letter from Edwin Booth to Clara Louise Kellogg" title="" /></a><br /> + +<a href="images/letter_pg_2_lg.jpg"> +<img src="images/letter_pg_2_sml.jpg" width="348" height="550" alt="Letter from Edwin Booth to Clara Louise Kellogg" title="" /></a><br /> + +<a href="images/letter_pg_3_lg.jpg"> +<img src="images/letter_pg_3_sml.jpg" width="550" height="348" alt="Letter from Edwin Booth to Clara Louise Kellogg" title="" /></a> +<br /> +<span class="caption"><b>Letter from Edwin Booth to Clara Louise Kellogg</b></span> +</p> + +<div class="blockquot"><p>I examined the rustling treasure critically and decided it was a +complete success. The train was long, the stuff rich, the taste +perfect, and yet—the great essential was wanting. I could not but +reflect on the transformation which would come over that regal robe +were it once hung on the shapely shoulders of the famous <i>prima +donna</i>.</p> + +<p>"You see, there is nothing like singing to fill out dresses where +they should be filled out, and conversely," said Sbriglia, who +happened to be present as we came back into the <i>salon</i>; +"consequently my advice to all ladies who wish to improve their +figure is to take vocal lessons."</p> + +<p>"Yes," agreed Miss Kellogg, "if they can only find right +instruction. But, unfortunately good teachers nowadays are rarer +than good voices. Even the famous Paris Conservatory doesn't +contain good vocal instruction. If there be any teaching in the +world which is thoroughly worthless, it is precisely that given in +the Rue Bergère. But I cannot do justice to the subject. Do give us +your ideas, Professor, about the Paris Conservatory and the French +School of voice culture."</p> + +<p>"As to any French vocal school," replied Sbriglia, "there is none. +Each professor has a system of his own that is only less bad than +the system of some rival professor. One man tells you to breathe up +and down and another in and out. One claims that the musical tones +are formed in the head, while another locates them in the throat. +And when these gentlemen receive a fresh, untrained voice, their +first care is to split it up into three distinct parts which they +call registers, and for the arrangement of which they lay down +three distinct sets of rules.</p> + +<p>"As to the Conservatory, it is a national disgrace; and I have no +hesitation in saying that it not only does no good, but is actually +the means of ruining hundreds of fine voices. Look at the results. +It is from the Conservatory that the Grand Opera chooses its French +singers, and the simple fact is that in the entire <i>personnel</i> +there are no great French artists. There are artists from Russia, +Italy, Germany<a name="page_368" id="page_368"></a> and America, but there are none from France. And +yet the most talented students of the Conservatory make their +<i>débuts</i> there every year with fine voices and brilliant prospects; +but, as a famous critic has well said, 'after singing for three +years under the system which they have been taught, they acquire a +perfect "style" and lose their voice.'</p> + +<p>"You ask me what I consider to be the correct method. I dislike +very much the use of the word 'method,' because it seems to imply +something artificial; whereas in all the vocal processes, there is +only a single logical method and that is the one taught us all by +nature at our birth. Watch a baby crying. How does he breathe? +Simply by pushing the abdomen forward, thus drawing air into the +lungs, to fill the vacuum produced, and then bringing it back +again, which expels the air. And every one breathes that way, +except certain advocates of theoretical nonsense, who have learned +with great difficulty to exactly reverse this operation. Such +singers make a bellows of the chest, instead of the abdomen, and, +as the strain to produce long sounds is evidently greater in +forcing the air out than in simply drawing it in, their inevitable +tendency is to unduly contract the chest and to distend the +abdomen."</p> + +<p>"Let me give you an illustration of the truth of M. Sbriglia's +argument," said Miss Kellogg, rising from her seat. "Now watch me +as I utter a musical note." And immediately the rich voice that has +charmed so many thousands filled the apartment with a clear +"a-a-a-a" as the note grew in volume.</p> + +<p>"You see Miss Kellogg has little to fear from consumption!" +exclaimed Sbriglia. "And I am convinced that invalids with +disorders of the chest would do well to stop taking drugs and study +the art of breathing and singing."</p> + +<p>"And even those who have no voice," said Miss Kellogg, "would by +this means not only improve in health and looks, but would also +learn to read and speak correctly, for the same principles apply to +all the vocal processes. It<a name="page_369" id="page_369"></a> is astonishing how few people use the +voice properly. For instance I could read in this tone all the +afternoon without fatigue, but if I were to do this" (making a +perceptible change in the position of her head), "I should begin to +cough before finishing a column. Don't you notice the difference? +In the one case the sounds come from here" (touching her chest) +"and are free and musical; but in the other, I seem to speak in my +throat, and soon feel an irritation there which makes me want the +traditional glass of sugar and water."</p> + +<p>"The irritation which accompanies what you call 'speaking in the +throat,'" explained Sbriglia, "is caused by pressing too hard upon +the vocal cords, that become, in consequence, congested with blood, +instead of remaining white as they should be. Persons who have this +habit grow hoarse after very brief vocal exertion, and it is +largely for that reason that American men rarely make fine singers. +On the other hand, look at Salvini, who, by simply knowing how to +place his voice, is able to play a tremendous part like Othello +without the slightest sense of fatigue.</p> + +<p>"About the American 'twang'? Oh, no, it does not injure the voice. +On the contrary, this nasal peculiarity, especially common among +your women, is of positive value in a proper production of certain +tones."</p></div> + +<p><a name="page_370" id="page_370"></a></p> + +<h2><a name="CODA" id="CODA"></a>CODA</h2> + +<p class="nind"><span class="letra">T</span>HE Coda in music is, literally, the tail of the composition, the +finishing off of the piece. The influence of Wagner did away with the +Coda: yet, as my place in the history of opera is that of an exponent of +the Italian rather than the German form, I feel that a Coda, or a last +few words of farewell, is admissible.</p> + +<p>In some ways the Italian opera of my day seems banal. Yet Italian opera +is not altogether the thing of the past that it is sometimes supposed to +be. More and more, I believe, is it coming back into public favour as +people experience a renewed realisation that melody is the perfect +thing, in art as in life. I believe that <i>Mignon</i> would draw at the +present time, if a good cast could be found. But it would be difficult +to find a good cast.</p> + +<p>Italian opera did what it was intended to do:—it showed the art of +singing. It was never supposed to be but an accompaniment to the +orchestra as German opera often is; an idea not very gratifying to a +singer, and sometimes not to the public. Yet we can hardly make +comparisons. Personally, I like German opera and many forms of music +beside the Italian very much, even while convinced of the fact that +German critics are not the whole audience. At least, the opera could not +long be preserved on them alone.</p> + +<p class="figcenter"> +<a href="images/elpstone_lg.jpg"> +<img src="images/elpstone_sml.jpg" width="550" height="375" alt=""Elpstone" + +New Hartford, Connecticut" title="" /></a> +<br /> +<span class="caption"><b>"Elpstone"</b><br /> + +New Hartford, Connecticut</span> +</p> + +<p>It seems to me as I look back over the preceding pages that I have put +into them all the irrelevant<a name="page_371" id="page_371"></a> matter of my life and left out much that +was important. Many of my dearest <i>rôles</i> I have forgotten to mention, +and many of my most illustrious acquaintances I have omitted to honour. +But when one has lived a great many years, the past becomes a good deal +like an attic: one goes there to hunt for some particular thing, but the +chances are that one finds anything and everything except what one went +to find. So, out of my attic, I have unearthed ever so many unimportant +heirlooms of the past, leaving others, perhaps more valuable and more +interesting, to be eaten by moths and corrupted by rust for all time.</p> + +<p>There is very little more for me to say. I do not want to write of my +last appearances in public. Even though I did leave the operatic stage +at the height of my success, there is yet something melancholy in the +end of anything. As Richard Hovey says:</p> + +<table border="0" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" summary="poetry"> +<tr><td align="left"><span style="margin-left: 0em;">There is a sadness in all things that pass;</span></td></tr> +<tr><td align="left"><span style="margin-left: 0em;">We love the moonlight better for the sun,</span></td></tr> +<tr><td align="left"><span style="margin-left: 0em;">And the day better when the night is near.</span></td></tr> +<tr><td align="left"><span style="margin-left: 0em;">The last look on a place where we have dwelt</span></td></tr> +<tr><td align="left"><span style="margin-left: 0em;">Reveals more beauty than we dreamed before,</span></td></tr> +<tr><td align="left"><span style="margin-left: 0em;">When it was daily ...</span></td></tr> +</table> + +<p>In our big, young country of America there are the possibilities of many +another singer greater than I have been. I shall be proud and grateful +if the story of my high ambitions, hard work, and kindly treatment +should chance to encourage one of these. For, while it is true that +there is nothing that should be chosen less lightly than an artistic +career, it is also true that, having chosen it, there is nothing too +great to be given up for it. I have no other message to give; no further +lesson to teach. I have lived and sung, and, in these memories,<a name="page_372" id="page_372"></a> have +tried to tell something of the living and the singing: but when I seek +for a salient and moving word as a last one, I find that I am dumb. Yet +I feel as I used to feel when I sang before a large audience. Somewhere +out in the audience of the world there must be those who are in +instinctive sympathy with me. My thoughts go wandering toward them as, +long ago, my thoughts would wander toward the unknown friends sitting +before me in the theatre and listening. So poignant is this sense within +me that, halting as my message may have been, I feel quite sure that +somehow, here and there, some one will hear it, responsive in the +heart.<a name="page_373" id="page_373"></a></p> + +<h2><a name="INDEX" id="INDEX"></a>INDEX</h2> + +<p class="cb"><a href="#A">A</a>, +<a href="#B">B</a>, +<a href="#C">C</a>, +<a href="#D">D</a>, +<a href="#E">E</a>, +<a href="#F">F</a>, +<a href="#G">G</a>, +<a href="#H">H</a>, +<a href="#I">I</a>, +<a href="#J">J</a>, +<a href="#K">K</a>, +<a href="#L">L</a>, +<a href="#M">M</a>, +<a href="#N">N</a>, +<a href="#O">O</a>, +<a href="#P">P</a>, +<a href="#Q">Q</a>, +<a href="#R">R</a>, +<a href="#S">S</a>, +<a href="#T">T</a>, +<a href="#V">V</a>, +<a href="#W">W</a>, +<a href="#Y">Y</a>, +<a href="#Z">Z</a></p> + +<p class="nind"> +<a name="A" id="A"></a>Abbott, Emma, in <i>Camille</i>, <a href="#page_070">70</a>;<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">meeting with, <a href="#page_272">272-275</a>; <a href="#page_320">320</a></span><br /> + +Academy of Music, the, <i>début</i> of Kellogg at, <a href="#page_033">33</a>;<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">stage conditions at, <a href="#page_037">37</a>;</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">director of, <a href="#page_040">40</a>;</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">winter season at, <a href="#page_091">91</a>;</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">benefit at, <a href="#page_092">92</a>;</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">return to, <a href="#page_201">201</a>; <a href="#page_258">258</a>, <a href="#page_259">259</a>, <a href="#page_263">263</a></span><br /> +Adam, Mme., <a href="#page_304">304</a><br /> +Adamowski, Timothie, <a href="#page_358">358</a><br /> +Adams, Charles, <a href="#page_298">298</a><br /> +Adams, Maud, in <i>Joan of Arc</i>, <a href="#page_066">66</a><br /> +Aïda, <a href="#page_292">292</a>, <a href="#page_301">301</a>, <a href="#page_302">302</a>, <a href="#page_307">307</a><br /> +Albani, Mme., <a href="#page_235">235</a><br /> +Albertini, <a href="#page_294">294</a><br /> +Albites, suggestion of, <a href="#page_102">102</a><br /> +Alboni, Mme., Rovere and, <a href="#page_094">94</a>;<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">anecdote of, <a href="#page_175">175</a></span><br /> +Aldrich, Thomas Bailey, <a href="#page_047">47</a>, <a href="#page_048">48</a><br /> +Alexander, John, <a href="#page_281">281</a><br /> +Amina, the <i>rôle</i> of, <a href="#page_064">64</a>;<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">the opera of, <a href="#page_065">65</a>;</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Murska as, <a href="#page_296">296</a></span><br /> +Amodio, <a href="#page_013">13</a>;<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">personal appearance of, <a href="#page_014">14</a>;</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">in <i>Don Giovanni</i>, <a href="#page_074">74</a></span><br /> +Amonasro, <a href="#page_307">307</a><br /> +Andrede, Joseph, <a href="#page_300">300</a><br /> +Annetta, <a href="#page_091">91</a>;<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">contrast between Marguerite and, <a href="#page_093">93</a>;</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Malibran as, <a href="#page_094">94</a>;</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Grisi as, <a href="#page_094">94</a>;</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Kellogg as, <a href="#page_093">93</a>, <a href="#page_094">94</a>, <a href="#page_096">96</a></span><br /> +Anschutz, <i>Faust</i> and, <a href="#page_078">78</a><br /> +Appleton, Tom, <a href="#page_046">46</a>, <a href="#page_047">47</a><br /> +Arditi, <a href="#page_135">135</a>, <a href="#page_138">138</a>, <a href="#page_162">162-164</a>, <a href="#page_168">168</a>, <a href="#page_171">171</a>, <a href="#page_173">173</a><br /> +Armitage, Sir George, <a href="#page_195">195-198</a><br /> +Association, Peace Jubilee, <a href="#page_235">235</a><br /> +Azucena, <a href="#page_249">249</a><br /> +<br /> +<a name="B" id="B"></a>Babcock, William, <a href="#page_007">7</a><br /> +Bachert, Pond and, <a href="#page_358">358</a><br /> +Balfe, <a href="#page_261">261</a>, <a href="#page_262">262</a><br /> +<i>Ballo in Maschera</i>, <a href="#page_055">55</a>, <a href="#page_062">62</a>, <a href="#page_329">329</a>, 338<a name="page_374" id="page_374"></a><br /> +Banjo, first mention of, <a href="#page_008">8</a>;<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">music of, <a href="#page_009">9</a>;</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">old man and the, <a href="#page_217">217</a>, <a href="#page_218">218</a>;</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">accompaniment of, <a href="#page_358">358</a></span><br /> +<i>Barbiere, Il</i>, realistic performance of, <a href="#page_038">38</a>; <a href="#page_056">56</a>, <a href="#page_091">91</a>, <a href="#page_097">97</a>, <a href="#page_167">167</a>, <a href="#page_277">277</a><br /> +Barbizon School, <a href="#page_306">306</a><br /> +Barlow, Judge Peter, <a href="#page_102">102</a><br /> +Barlow, Mrs. Samuel, <a href="#page_276">276-279</a><br /> +Bateman concerts, <a href="#page_101">101</a><br /> +Beecher, Henry Ward, <a href="#page_214">214</a><br /> +Beethoven, <a href="#page_078">78</a>;<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Jubilee, <a href="#page_209">209</a>;</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Okakura and music of, <a href="#page_219">219</a>;</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">reference to, <a href="#page_366">366</a></span><br /> +Behrens, Siegfried, <a href="#page_263">263</a>, <a href="#page_264">264</a>, <a href="#page_267">267</a><br /> +Bellini, <a href="#page_054">54</a>;<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">traditions of, <a href="#page_067">67</a>;</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">music of, <a href="#page_080">80</a></span><br /> +Benedict, Sir Jules, <a href="#page_006">6</a>, <a href="#page_197">197</a>, <a href="#page_261">261</a>, <a href="#page_262">262</a><br /> +Bennett, James Gordon, <a href="#page_251">251</a>, <a href="#page_303">303</a><br /> +Bennett, Mr., <a href="#page_164">164</a>, <a href="#page_174">174</a>, <a href="#page_238">238</a><br /> +Bentinck, Mrs. Cavendish, <a href="#page_190">190</a><br /> +Bernhardt, <a href="#page_208">208</a><br /> +<i>Beware</i>, Longfellow and, <a href="#page_046">46</a>;<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">singing of, <a href="#page_175">175</a>, <a href="#page_178">178</a>, <a href="#page_197">197</a></span><br /> +Bey, Khalil, <a href="#page_156">156</a>, <a href="#page_157">157</a><br /> +Biachi as Mephistopheles, <a href="#page_086">86</a><br /> +Bianchi, Mlle., <a href="#page_329">329</a><br /> +Bierstadt, Albert, <a href="#page_160">160</a><br /> +Bizet, <a href="#page_305">305</a><br /> +Black, Valentine, <a href="#page_305">305</a><br /> +<i>Bohème, La</i>, <a href="#page_091">91</a><br /> +<i>Bohemian Girl, The</i>, <a href="#page_257">257</a>, <a href="#page_259">259</a><br /> +Booth, Edwin, letter from, <a href="#page_016">16</a>;<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">on stage traditions, <a href="#page_366">366</a></span><br /> +Booth, Wilkes, <a href="#page_111">111</a><br /> +Borde, Mme. de la, in <i>Les Huguenots</i>, <a href="#page_013">13</a>;<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">voice of, <a href="#page_013">13</a></span><br /> +Borgia, Lucretia, Grisi as, <a href="#page_159">159</a><br /> +Bososio, Mlle., as Prascovia, <a href="#page_102">102</a><br /> +Boucicault, Dion, <a href="#page_015">15</a>, 262<a name="page_375" id="page_375"></a><br /> +Brignoli, <a href="#page_013">13</a>, <a href="#page_014">14</a>;<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">tour with, <a href="#page_022">22</a>;</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">temper of, <a href="#page_022">22</a>, <a href="#page_023">23</a>;</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">origin of, <a href="#page_024">24</a>;</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">mascot of, <a href="#page_024">24</a>, <a href="#page_165">165</a>;</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">point of view of, <a href="#page_024">24</a>;</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">anecdote of, <a href="#page_025">25</a>;</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">death of, <a href="#page_025">25</a>;</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">in <i>I Puritani</i>, <a href="#page_029">29</a>;</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">in opera with, <a href="#page_036">36</a>;</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">difficulties with, <a href="#page_041">41</a>;</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">in Boston with, <a href="#page_044">44</a>;</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">farewell performance for, <a href="#page_064">64</a>;</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Americanisation of, <a href="#page_071">71</a>;</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">in <i>Poliuto</i>, <a href="#page_072">72</a>;</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Gottschalk and, <a href="#page_107">107</a>;</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">mention of, <a href="#page_294">294</a>, <a href="#page_358">358</a></span><br /> +Brougham, John, <a href="#page_015">15</a><br /> +Bulow, Von, <a href="#page_298">298</a><br /> +Burnett, Mrs. Frances Hodgson, <a href="#page_281">281</a><br /> +Burroughs, John, reference to, <a href="#page_288">288</a><br /> +Butterfly, Madame, <a href="#page_255">255</a><br /> +<br /> +<a name="C" id="C"></a>Cabanel, <a href="#page_306">306</a><br /> +Cable, George, <a href="#page_281">281</a><br /> +Callender, May, <a href="#page_276">276</a>, <a href="#page_277">277</a><br /> +Calvé, <a href="#page_081">81</a>;<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">as Carmen, <a href="#page_291">291</a></span><br /> +<i>Camille</i>, Matilda Heron in, <a href="#page_015">15</a>;<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">public attitude toward, <a href="#page_069">69</a>;</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">mention of, <a href="#page_070">70</a>;</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">libretto of, <a href="#page_135">135</a></span><br /> +Campanini, Italo, <a href="#page_236">236</a>, <a href="#page_237">237</a>, <a href="#page_261">261</a>, <a href="#page_295">295</a><br /> +Capoul, <a href="#page_184">184</a>, <a href="#page_236">236</a>, <a href="#page_237">237</a>, <a href="#page_295">295</a><br /> +Carlton, William, <a href="#page_258">258-261</a>, <a href="#page_265">265</a>, <a href="#page_268">268</a>, <a href="#page_275">275</a>;<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Marie Roze and, <a href="#page_290">290</a></span><br /> +Carmen, <a href="#page_073">73</a>, <a href="#page_091">91</a>;<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Minnie Hauck as, <a href="#page_102">102</a>;</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Kellogg in, <a href="#page_231">231</a>, <a href="#page_236">236</a>;</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">in English, <a href="#page_254">254</a>;</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Marie Roze as, <a href="#page_290">290</a>;</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">the <i>rôle</i> of, <a href="#page_291">291</a>;</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Calvé as, <a href="#page_291">291</a>;</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">music of, <a href="#page_305">305</a></span><br /> +Carvalho, Mme. Miolan-, <a href="#page_077">77</a>;<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">wig of, <a href="#page_082">82</a>, <a href="#page_140">140</a>;</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">as Marguerite, <a href="#page_084">84</a></span><br /> +Cary, Annie Louise, <a href="#page_193">193</a>;<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Kellogg and, <a href="#page_289">289</a>, <a href="#page_292">292-294</a>, <a href="#page_298">298</a>, <a href="#page_304">304</a></span><br /> +<i>Castille, The Rose of</i>, <a href="#page_257">257</a><br /> +Castle, <a href="#page_257">257</a>, <a href="#page_269">269</a>, <a href="#page_270">270</a><br /> +Catherine, in <i>Star of the North</i>, <a href="#page_102">102</a>;<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">jewels for, <a href="#page_104">104</a>;</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">incident when singing, <a href="#page_267">267</a></span><br /> +Châtelet, Théâtre, <a href="#page_140">140</a><br /> +Christina, ex-Queen, <a href="#page_143">143</a>, <a href="#page_144">144</a><br /> +Clarke, James Freeman, <a href="#page_050">50</a><br /> +Clarkson, Bishop, <a href="#page_300">300</a><br /> +Clover, Lieutenant, <a href="#page_357">357</a><br /> +Club, Stanley, <a href="#page_305">305</a><br /> +Colson, Pauline, tour with, <a href="#page_022">22</a>;<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">advice of, <a href="#page_026">26</a>;</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">example in costuming of, <a href="#page_027">27</a>;</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">illness of, <a href="#page_027">27</a></span><br /> +Combermere, Viscountess, <a href="#page_125">125</a>;<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">anecdote of, <a href="#page_128">128</a></span><br /> +Comédie Française, 15<a name="page_376" id="page_376"></a><br /> +Concerts, private, <a href="#page_168">168</a>;<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Buckingham Palace, <a href="#page_179">179-186</a>, <a href="#page_302">302</a>;</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Benedict's, <a href="#page_197">197</a>;</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">tours, <a href="#page_200">200-203</a>, <a href="#page_208">208</a>, <a href="#page_227">227-230</a>;</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">trials of, <a href="#page_232">232-234</a>;</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">in Russia, <a href="#page_346">346</a></span><br /> +Conklin, Ellen, effect of slavery on, <a href="#page_058">58</a>, <a href="#page_059">59</a><br /> +Conly, George, <a href="#page_256">256</a>, <a href="#page_258">258</a>, <a href="#page_275">275</a><br /> +Connaught, Duke of, <a href="#page_183">183</a>, <a href="#page_184">184</a><br /> +Contessa, incident in Titjien's <i>rôle</i> of, <a href="#page_169">169</a>, <a href="#page_170">170</a>, <a href="#page_239">239</a><br /> +Cook, W. H., <a href="#page_124">124</a><br /> +Coquelin, <a href="#page_304">304</a><br /> +Costa, Sir Michael, <a href="#page_169">169</a>, <a href="#page_170">170</a>, <a href="#page_194">194</a>, <a href="#page_238">238</a>, <a href="#page_267">267</a><br /> +Cotogni, <a href="#page_235">235</a>, <a href="#page_337">337</a><br /> +Coulsen, <a href="#page_294">294</a><br /> +Crinkle, Nym, <i>see</i> Wheeler<br /> +<i>Crispino e la Comare</i>, <a href="#page_091">91</a>, <a href="#page_094">94</a>;<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Cobbler in, <a href="#page_094">94</a>;</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">mention of, <a href="#page_097">97</a>, <a href="#page_249">249</a></span><br /> +<i>Curiose, Le Donne</i>, <a href="#page_091">91</a><br /> +Cushman, Charlotte, attendance at theatre by, <a href="#page_033">33</a>;<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">evening in Boston with, <a href="#page_050">50</a>, <a href="#page_052">52</a>;</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">in Rome with, <a href="#page_160">160</a>;</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">as Queen Katherine, <a href="#page_270">270</a>, <a href="#page_271">271</a></span><br /> +Cusins, <a href="#page_176">176</a>, <a href="#page_178">178</a><br /> +Custer, <a href="#page_057">57</a>, <a href="#page_058">58</a><br /> +Czar, the, Ronconi and, <a href="#page_095">95</a>;<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">daughter of, <a href="#page_182">182</a>, <a href="#page_183">183</a>;</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">signature of, <a href="#page_335">335</a>;</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">physician of, <a href="#page_337">337</a>;</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Nihilists and, <a href="#page_338">338</a>, <a href="#page_343">343</a>;</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">mourning of, <a href="#page_342">342</a>;</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">sight of, <a href="#page_350">350</a>, <a href="#page_351">351</a>;</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">assassination of, <a href="#page_354">354</a>, <a href="#page_355">355</a></span><br /> +<br /> +<a name="D" id="D"></a>Dahlgren, Admiral, <a href="#page_183">183</a>, <a href="#page_357">357</a><br /> +<i>Dame Blanche, La</i>, <a href="#page_096">96</a><br /> +D'Angri, <a href="#page_013">13</a><br /> +<i>Daniel Deronda</i>, quotation from, <a href="#page_315">315-316</a><br /> +Davidson, <a href="#page_167">167</a>, <a href="#page_190">190</a>, <a href="#page_195">195</a><br /> +Davis, Jefferson, at West Point, <a href="#page_019">19</a>;<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">son of, <a href="#page_019">19</a>;</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">wife of, <a href="#page_020">20</a></span><br /> +Davis, Will, <a href="#page_256">256</a><br /> +Debussy, <a href="#page_079">79</a><br /> +Deland, Conly as, <a href="#page_258">258</a><br /> +de Reszke, Jean, in <i>L'Africaine</i>, <a href="#page_040">40</a>;<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Sbriglia and, <a href="#page_313">313</a>, <a href="#page_314">314</a></span><br /> +de Reszke, Josephine, <a href="#page_306">306</a><br /> +<i>Diavolo, Fra</i>, <a href="#page_016">16</a>, <a href="#page_091">91</a>;<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">benefit performance of, <a href="#page_092">92</a>, <a href="#page_093">93</a>;</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">fondness for, <a href="#page_097">97</a>;</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">scenes from, <a href="#page_159">159</a>;</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Lucca in, <a href="#page_174">174</a>, <a href="#page_249">249</a>;</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Conly in, <a href="#page_256">256</a>;</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">mention of, <a href="#page_261">261</a>;</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Habelmann as, 269<a name="page_377" id="page_377"></a></span><br /> +Dickens, house of, <a href="#page_241">241</a><br /> +Donizetti, <a href="#page_056">56</a>;<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">opera of <i>Betly</i> by, <a href="#page_068">68</a>;</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><i>Poliuto</i> by, <a href="#page_071">71</a>;</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">music of, <a href="#page_080">80</a></span><br /> +Donna Anna, <i>rôle</i> of, <a href="#page_074">74</a>, <a href="#page_137">137</a>;<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Titjiens as, <a href="#page_169">169</a>, <a href="#page_170">170</a>, <a href="#page_173">173</a>;</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Kellogg as, <a href="#page_249">249</a></span><br /> +Doria, Clara, <a href="#page_246">246</a><br /> +Douglass, William, <a href="#page_126">126</a>, <a href="#page_203">203</a><br /> +Duc de Morney, <a href="#page_360">360</a><br /> +Dudley, Lord, <a href="#page_189">189</a><br /> +Dufferin, Lord and Lady, <a href="#page_353">353</a><br /> +Dukas, <a href="#page_079">79</a><br /> +Duse, <a href="#page_208">208</a><br /> +<i>Dutchman, The Flying</i>, <a href="#page_257">257</a>, <a href="#page_258">258</a>, <a href="#page_263">263-265</a><br /> +<br /> +<a name="E" id="E"></a>Eames, Mme., <a href="#page_083">83</a><br /> +Edinburgh, Duchess of, <a href="#page_182">182</a>, <a href="#page_183">183</a><br /> +Edward, Miss, <a href="#page_121">121</a>, <a href="#page_137">137</a><br /> +Ehn, Mme., <a href="#page_329">329</a><br /> +Elssler, Fanny, <a href="#page_330">330</a><br /> +Elvira, Donna, <a href="#page_137">137</a>, <a href="#page_170">170</a>, <a href="#page_173">173</a><br /> +Emerson, <a href="#page_045">45</a>, <a href="#page_221">221</a><br /> +Emory, Lieutenant, <a href="#page_357">357</a><br /> +<i>Ernani</i>, Patti in, <a href="#page_148">148</a>, <a href="#page_155">155</a><br /> +Errani, <a href="#page_011">11</a><br /> +Eugénie, Empress, <a href="#page_149">149</a>, <a href="#page_150">150</a><br /> +Evans, Dr., <a href="#page_150">150</a><br /> +<br /> +<a name="F" id="F"></a>Fabri, Count, <a href="#page_244">244</a><br /> +Falstaff, <a href="#page_091">91</a><br /> +Farragut, Admiral, <a href="#page_157">157</a>, <a href="#page_158">158</a><br /> +Farrar, Geraldine, as Marguerite, <a href="#page_081">81</a>, <a href="#page_083">83</a>, <a href="#page_089">89</a><br /> +Faure, <a href="#page_145">145</a>, <a href="#page_147">147</a>, <a href="#page_178">178</a>, <a href="#page_179">179</a>, <a href="#page_184">184</a>, <a href="#page_235">235</a>, <a href="#page_323">323</a><br /> +<i>Faust</i>, first suggestion of Kellogg in, <a href="#page_040">40</a>;<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">anecdote about, <a href="#page_046">46</a>;</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">public attitude toward, <a href="#page_068">68</a>;</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">decision of Maretzek about, <a href="#page_075">75</a>;</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">on the Continent, <a href="#page_077">77</a>;</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">criticism of <a href="#page_078">78</a>;</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">estimate of <a href="#page_079">79</a>;</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">early effect on public of, <a href="#page_081">81</a>, <a href="#page_089">89</a>;</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Alice Neilson in <a href="#page_082">82</a>;</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><i>Poliuto</i> and, <a href="#page_088">88</a>;</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">liberties with score of, <a href="#page_088">88</a>, <a href="#page_089">89</a>;</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Santley in, <a href="#page_132">132</a>;</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">French treatment of, <a href="#page_140">140</a>;</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">in America, <a href="#page_240">240</a>;</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">mention of, <a href="#page_244">244</a>, <a href="#page_307">307</a>;</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Lucca in, <a href="#page_249">249</a>, <a href="#page_250">250</a>;</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Carlton in, <a href="#page_260">260</a>;</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Drury Lane and, <a href="#page_132">132</a>, <a href="#page_135">135</a>, <a href="#page_137">137</a>, <a href="#page_162">162</a>, <a href="#page_174">174</a>, <a href="#page_189">189</a>, <a href="#page_261">261</a>;</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Mike and, <a href="#page_266">266</a>;</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Emma Abbott in, <a href="#page_274">274</a>;</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">testimonial, <a href="#page_298">298</a>;</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">libretto of, <a href="#page_333">333</a>;</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">mention of, 359<a name="page_378" id="page_378"></a></span><br /> +Fechter, Mr., <a href="#page_168">168</a><br /> +Federici as Marguerite, <a href="#page_080">80</a><br /> +Felina, <a href="#page_251">251-253</a>, <a href="#page_331">331</a>, <a href="#page_358">358</a><br /> +Ferri, tour with, <a href="#page_022">22</a>;<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">as Rigoletto, <a href="#page_033">33</a>;</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">blindness of, <a href="#page_033">33</a>, <a href="#page_041">41</a></span><br /> +Fidelio, Titjiens as, <a href="#page_169">169</a><br /> +Field, Eugene, <a href="#page_271">271</a><br /> +Field, Mrs. Marshall, <a href="#page_279">279</a><br /> +Fields, James T., home of, <a href="#page_045">45</a>;<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">anecdote of, <a href="#page_046">46</a>;</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">friends of, <a href="#page_047">47</a>, <a href="#page_048">48</a>;</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">opinion of "copy" of Mrs. Stowe, <a href="#page_049">49</a>;</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">hospitality of, <a href="#page_050">50</a>;</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">letter to, <a href="#page_089">89</a></span><br /> +Fioretti, <a href="#page_195">195</a><br /> +Fischoff, <a href="#page_326">326</a>, <a href="#page_332">332</a><br /> +Flotow, opera of <i>Martha</i> by, <a href="#page_073">73</a><br /> +Flute, playing of, <a href="#page_002">2</a>;<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Lanier and, <a href="#page_051">51</a>;</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Wagner's use of, <a href="#page_052">52</a></span><br /> +<i>Flute, The Magic</i>, <a href="#page_074">74</a>, <a href="#page_146">146</a>, <a href="#page_366">366</a>;<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">song from <i>The Star</i> in, <a href="#page_173">173</a></span><br /> +Foley, Walter, <a href="#page_131">131</a>, <a href="#page_167">167</a>, <a href="#page_236">236</a><br /> +Foster, Mr., <a href="#page_338">338</a>, <a href="#page_339">339</a><br /> +Franceschetti, <a href="#page_322">322</a><br /> +Frapoli, <a href="#page_299">299</a><br /> +<i>Freischütz, Der</i>, <a href="#page_254">254</a><br /> +French, art of the, <a href="#page_140">140</a><br /> +Fursch-Nadi, <a href="#page_310">310</a><br /> +<br /> +<a name="G" id="G"></a>Gaiety, <a href="#page_093">93</a>, <a href="#page_094">94</a>;<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Italian, <a href="#page_160">160</a></span><br /> +Gannon, Mary, <a href="#page_015">15</a><br /> +Garden, Covent, <a href="#page_129">129</a>, <a href="#page_135">135</a>, <a href="#page_167">167</a>, <a href="#page_171">171</a>, <a href="#page_172">172</a>, <a href="#page_178">178</a>, <a href="#page_194">194-196</a>, <a href="#page_235">235</a><br /> +Garden, Mary, artistic spirit of, <a href="#page_040">40</a>;<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">English opera and, <a href="#page_255">255</a></span><br /> +<i>Gazza Ladra, La</i>, <a href="#page_166">166-168</a>, <a href="#page_173">173</a><br /> +Gazzaniga, Mme., <a href="#page_294">294</a><br /> +Gerster, <a href="#page_303">303</a>, <a href="#page_329">329</a><br /> +Giatano, Nita, <a href="#page_242">242</a>, <a href="#page_243">243</a><br /> +Gilda, study of the <i>rôle</i> of, <a href="#page_029">29</a>;<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">appearance in, <a href="#page_034">34</a>, <a href="#page_035">35</a>, <a href="#page_063">63</a>;</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">comparison with Marguerite of, <a href="#page_079">79</a>;</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Kellogg as, <a href="#page_081">81</a></span><br /> +Gilder, Jeannette, <a href="#page_193">193</a>, <a href="#page_280">280</a>, <a href="#page_282">282</a>;<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Ellen Terry and, <a href="#page_283">283</a></span><br /> +Gilder, Richard Watson, <a href="#page_192">192</a>, <a href="#page_219">219</a>, <a href="#page_221">221</a>;<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Mrs., <a href="#page_279">279</a>, <a href="#page_281">281</a>;</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">studio of, <a href="#page_280">280-282</a></span><br /> +Gilder, Rodman, <a href="#page_281">281</a><br /> +Gilder, William H., <a href="#page_280">280</a><br /> +Gilmore, Patrick, <a href="#page_309">309</a><br /> +<i>Giovanni, Don</i>, <a href="#page_062">62</a>;<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">under Grau in, <a href="#page_074">74</a>;</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">at Her Majesty's, <a href="#page_137">137</a>, <a href="#page_167">167</a>, <a href="#page_170">170</a>, <a href="#page_173">173</a>, <a href="#page_174">174</a>, <a href="#page_197">197</a>, <a href="#page_198">198</a>;</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">mention of, <a href="#page_249">249</a>, <a href="#page_296">296</a>, <a href="#page_342">342</a></span><br /> +Godard, 305<a name="page_379" id="page_379"></a><br /> +Goddard, Mr., <a href="#page_190">190</a><br /> +Goethe, <a href="#page_254">254</a><br /> +Goodwin, <a href="#page_168">168</a>, <a href="#page_197">197</a><br /> +<i>Götterdämmerung, Die</i>, <a href="#page_091">91</a><br /> +Gottschalk, <a href="#page_106">106</a>, <a href="#page_107">107</a>, <a href="#page_295">295</a><br /> +Gounod, new opera by, <a href="#page_075">75</a>;<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">as revolutionist, <a href="#page_078">78</a>, <a href="#page_079">79</a>;</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">mention of, <a href="#page_132">132</a>;</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">reference to, <a href="#page_133">133</a>;</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">in London, <a href="#page_140">140</a>, <a href="#page_240">240-244</a>;</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Gounod, Madame, <a href="#page_243">243</a></span><br /> +Grange, Mme. de la, in <i>Les Huguenots</i>, <a href="#page_013">13</a>;<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">in <i>Sonnambula</i>, <a href="#page_038">38</a>;</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">in <i>The Star of the North</i>, <a href="#page_102">102</a></span><br /> +Grant, General, in Chicago, <a href="#page_114">114</a>, <a href="#page_115">115</a>;<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">President and Mrs., <a href="#page_266">266</a></span><br /> +Grau, Maurice, <a href="#page_067">67</a>;<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><i>Traviata</i> and, <a href="#page_069">69</a>;</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">in Boston with, <a href="#page_074">74</a>, <a href="#page_258">258</a>, <a href="#page_259">259</a>;</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">mention of, <a href="#page_300">300</a>;</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Opera House, <a href="#page_307">307</a></span><br /> +Greeley, Horace, funeral of, <a href="#page_209">209</a><br /> +Greenough, Lillie, <a href="#page_277">277</a><br /> +Gridley, Lieutenant-Commander, <a href="#page_357">357</a><br /> +Grisi, opportunity to hear, <a href="#page_014">14</a>;<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">opera costumier and, <a href="#page_085">85</a>;</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">as Annetta, <a href="#page_094">94</a>;</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">family of, <a href="#page_158">158</a>;</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">story of, <a href="#page_159">159</a></span><br /> +Grove, Sir George, <a href="#page_262">262</a><br /> +Gye, Mr., <a href="#page_129">129</a>, <a href="#page_135">135</a>, <a href="#page_171">171</a>, <a href="#page_172">172</a><br /> +<br /> +<a name="H" id="H"></a>Habelmann, Theodor, in <i>Fra Diavolo</i>, <a href="#page_096">96</a>, <a href="#page_269">269</a>, <a href="#page_270">270</a><br /> +Hall, Dr. John, <a href="#page_300">300</a><br /> +Hamilton, Sir Frederick, <a href="#page_342">342</a><br /> +Hamilton, Gail, <a href="#page_050">50</a><br /> +Hamlet, in French, <a href="#page_141">141</a>;<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Nilsson in, <a href="#page_145">145</a>;</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Faure as, <a href="#page_147">147</a>;</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">McCullough as, <a href="#page_282">282</a>;</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">mad scene in, <a href="#page_292">292</a>, <a href="#page_329">329</a></span><br /> +Handel, Festival, <a href="#page_172">172</a>;<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><i>Messiah</i> of, <a href="#page_209">209</a>;</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">and Haydn Society, <a href="#page_298">298</a></span><br /> +Hanslick, Dr., <a href="#page_195">195</a>;<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">complimented by, <a href="#page_329">329-331</a></span><br /> +Harrington, Earl of, <a href="#page_126">126</a>;<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">ice-box of, <a href="#page_127">127</a>;</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">daughter of, <a href="#page_127">127</a>;</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">at the opera, <a href="#page_198">198</a></span><br /> +Harte, Bret, niece of, <a href="#page_319">319</a><br /> +Hauck, Minnie, as Prascovia, <a href="#page_102">102</a>, <a href="#page_103">103</a>;<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">characterisation of, <a href="#page_103">103</a>;</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">mention of, <a href="#page_303">303</a></span><br /> +Haute, M. De la, <a href="#page_159">159</a><br /> +Hawaii, King of, <a href="#page_266">266</a><br /> +Hawthorne, Julian, 49<a name="page_380" id="page_380"></a><br /> +Hawthorne, Nathaniel, <a href="#page_048">48</a><br /> +<i>Hélène, La Belle</i>, <a href="#page_254">254</a><br /> +Heron, Matilda, <a href="#page_015">15</a><br /> +Hess, C. D., <a href="#page_256">256-259</a>;<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">benefit of Kellogg, <a href="#page_275">275</a></span><br /> +Heurtly, Mrs., <a href="#page_190">190</a><br /> +Hinckley, Isabella, <a href="#page_041">41</a>;<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">in <i>Il Barbiere</i>, <a href="#page_056">56</a>;</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">in <i>Betly</i>, <a href="#page_068">68</a></span><br /> +Hissing, custom of, in Spain, <a href="#page_145">145</a><br /> +Hoey, Mrs. John, <a href="#page_015">15</a><br /> +Hoffman, Baron, <a href="#page_329">329</a>, <a href="#page_330">330</a><br /> +Holmes, Oliver Wendell, <a href="#page_046">46</a>;<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">breakfasts with, <a href="#page_052">52</a>;</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">opinion of English women of, <a href="#page_053">53</a></span><br /> +Hosmer, Harriet, <a href="#page_160">160</a><br /> +Howe, Julia Ward, <a href="#page_046">46</a>, <a href="#page_049">49</a>, <a href="#page_061">61</a><br /> +Huger, General Isaac, son of, <a href="#page_018">18</a>, <a href="#page_057">57</a><br /> +<i>Huguenots, Les</i>, <a href="#page_091">91</a>, <a href="#page_174">174</a>, <a href="#page_295">295</a>, <a href="#page_366">366</a><br /> +<br /> +<i><a name="I" id="I"></a>Iago</i>, <a href="#page_307">307</a><br /> +Irving, Henry, great strength of, <a href="#page_040">40</a>;<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">repose of, <a href="#page_234">234</a>, <a href="#page_248">248</a>;</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">first meeting with, <a href="#page_282">282</a>;</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">complaint of, <a href="#page_284">284</a>;</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">reforms of, <a href="#page_284">284</a>, <a href="#page_285">285</a></span><br /> +<br /> +<a name="J" id="J"></a>Jackson, Helen Hunt, <a href="#page_281">281</a><br /> +Jaffray, E. S., <a href="#page_322">322</a><br /> +Jarrett, <a href="#page_120">120</a>, <a href="#page_162">162</a>, <a href="#page_163">163</a>;<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">daughter of, <a href="#page_163">163</a>, <a href="#page_164">164</a>, <a href="#page_168">168</a>, <a href="#page_173">173</a>, <a href="#page_198">198</a>;</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Colonel Stebbins and, <a href="#page_173">173</a>;</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Gounod and, <a href="#page_241">241</a>;</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">mention of, <a href="#page_249">249</a>, <a href="#page_250">250</a>, <a href="#page_251">251</a>, <a href="#page_252">252</a>, <a href="#page_253">253</a>, <a href="#page_294">294</a>, <a href="#page_300">300</a>, <a href="#page_331">331</a></span><br /> +Jerome, Leonard, <a href="#page_188">188</a><br /> +Johnston, Sir Alan, <a href="#page_353">353</a><br /> +Jordan, Jules, <a href="#page_206">206</a>, <a href="#page_207">207</a><br /> +Juliet, saying of Modjeska about, <a href="#page_070">70</a>;<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Patti as, <a href="#page_194">194</a>, <a href="#page_198">198</a>;</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Romeo and, <a href="#page_240">240</a>;</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Gounod and, <a href="#page_244">244</a></span><br /> +<br /> +<a name="K" id="K"></a>Karl, Tom, <a href="#page_298">298</a><br /> +Katherine, Queen, <a href="#page_270">270</a>, <a href="#page_271">271</a><br /> +Keene, Laura, <a href="#page_015">15</a><br /> +Kellogg, Clara Louise, first appearance of, <a href="#page_006">6</a>;<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">description as a child of, <a href="#page_007">7</a>;</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">dress of, <a href="#page_008">8</a>, <a href="#page_025">25</a>, <a href="#page_026">26</a>, <a href="#page_039">39</a>, <a href="#page_040">40</a>, <a href="#page_070">70</a>, <a href="#page_084">84</a>, <a href="#page_085">85</a>, <a href="#page_135">135</a>, <a href="#page_136">136</a>, <a href="#page_137">137</a>, <a href="#page_210">210</a>, <a href="#page_265">265</a>, <a href="#page_347">347</a>;</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Muzio and, <a href="#page_011">11</a>, <a href="#page_012">12</a>, <a href="#page_013">13</a>;</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">early singers heard by, <a href="#page_013">13</a>;</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">histrionic skill of, <a href="#page_015">15</a>, <a href="#page_016">16</a>;</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">resemblance to Rachel of, <a href="#page_016">16</a>;</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><i>début</i> as Gilda of, <a href="#page_033">33</a>;</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">as Marguerite, <a href="#page_040">40</a>, <a href="#page_075">75-92</a>;</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">hospitalities toward, <a href="#page_044">44</a>, <a href="#page_045">45</a>, <a href="#page_093">93</a>, <a href="#page_100">100</a>, <a href="#page_101">101</a>, <a href="#page_278">278</a>, <a href="#page_279">279</a>, <a href="#page_362">362</a>, <a href="#page_363">363</a>;</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">wig of, <a href="#page_082">82-84</a>;<a name="page_381" id="page_381"></a></span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">in Opéra Comique, <a href="#page_091">91-98</a>;</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">jewelry of, <a href="#page_093">93</a>, <a href="#page_104">104</a>, <a href="#page_105">105</a>, <a href="#page_298">298</a>;</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">as Flower Prima Donna, <a href="#page_103">103</a>, <a href="#page_202">202</a>;</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Lucca and, <a href="#page_245">245-252</a>;</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">in English Opera, <a href="#page_254">254-270</a>;</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">favourite flower of; <a href="#page_266">266</a>;</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">in "Three Graces" Tour, <a href="#page_289">289-304</a></span><br /> +Kellogg, George, flute of, <a href="#page_002">2</a>;<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">failure of, <a href="#page_009">9</a>;</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Irish servants and, <a href="#page_061">61</a>;</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">in New Hartford with, <a href="#page_067">67</a>;</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">story of, <a href="#page_231">231</a></span><br /> +Keppel, Colonel, <a href="#page_133">133</a><br /> +Korbay, Francis, <a href="#page_219">219</a><br /> +Krauss, <a href="#page_307">307</a><br /> +Küster, Baron, <a href="#page_338">338</a><br /> +<br /> +<a name="L" id="L"></a>La Farge, John, <a href="#page_219">219</a>, <a href="#page_221">221</a>, <a href="#page_280">280</a><br /> +<i>L'Africaine</i>, de Reszke in, <a href="#page_040">40</a>;<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Lucca in, <a href="#page_249">249</a>;</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Masini in, <a href="#page_341">341</a></span><br /> +Lang, <a href="#page_190">190</a>, <a href="#page_198">198</a><br /> +Lanier, Sidney, <a href="#page_050">50</a>;<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">anecdote of, <a href="#page_051">51</a></span><br /> +Lascelle, <a href="#page_306">306</a><br /> +Lawrence, Alberto, <a href="#page_258">258</a><br /> +<i>Lecouvreur, Adrienne</i>, <a href="#page_282">282</a><br /> +Leonora, Marie Willt as, <a href="#page_152">152</a>;<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Lucca as, <a href="#page_179">179</a>;</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Morgan and, <a href="#page_269">269</a></span><br /> +Le Page, Bastien, <a href="#page_281">281</a><br /> +Leporello, Rockitanski as, <a href="#page_170">170</a><br /> +<i>Le Roi de Lahore</i>, <a href="#page_306">306</a><br /> +Librettos, inartistic, <a href="#page_255">255</a>;<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Emma Abbott and, <a href="#page_274">274</a>;</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">texts of, <a href="#page_332">332</a></span><br /> +Liebling, <a href="#page_358">358</a><br /> +<i>Lily o'Killarney</i>, <a href="#page_261">261</a>, <a href="#page_262">262</a><br /> +Lincoln, Abraham, call for volunteers by, <a href="#page_054">54</a>;<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">anecdote of, <a href="#page_110">110</a>;</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">death of, <a href="#page_111">111</a>;</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">lying-in-state of, <a href="#page_112">112-114</a>, <a href="#page_118">118</a></span><br /> +Lind, Jenny, <a href="#page_005">5</a>, <a href="#page_006">6</a>, <a href="#page_294">294</a><br /> +Linda di Chamounix, first public appearance of Kellogg in, <a href="#page_025">25</a>;<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Boston's attitude toward, <a href="#page_036">36</a>;</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">origin of, <a href="#page_036">36</a>;</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">story of, <a href="#page_036">36</a>, <a href="#page_037">37</a>;</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">costuming of, <a href="#page_038">38</a>, <a href="#page_039">39</a>;</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Susini, in, <a href="#page_042">42</a>;</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Mme. Medori as, <a href="#page_042">42</a>;</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Kellogg in Boston as, <a href="#page_043">43</a>, <a href="#page_050">50</a>, <a href="#page_054">54</a>, <a href="#page_062">62</a>;</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">teaching of, <a href="#page_063">63</a>;</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">comparison with Marguerite of, <a href="#page_079">79</a>;</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><i>Clara Louise Polka</i> and, <a href="#page_088">88</a>;</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Patti in, <a href="#page_129">129</a>;</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">mention of, <a href="#page_132">132</a>, <a href="#page_249">249</a>;</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">at Her Majesty's, <a href="#page_135">135</a>, <a href="#page_167">167</a>, <a href="#page_236">236</a>, <a href="#page_238">238</a></span><br /> +Liszt, saying of, 234<a name="page_382" id="page_382"></a><br /> +Littlejohn, Bishop, <a href="#page_300">300</a><br /> +<i>Lohengrin</i>, <a href="#page_292">292</a><br /> +Longfellow, <a href="#page_046">46</a>, <a href="#page_047">47</a>;<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">poems of, <a href="#page_046">46</a>, <a href="#page_047">47</a>;</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">anecdote of, <a href="#page_047">47</a>;</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">letter by, <a href="#page_089">89</a>;</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">reference to, <a href="#page_221">221</a></span><br /> +Lorenzo, Conly as, <a href="#page_256">256</a><br /> +Loveday, Mme., <a href="#page_261">261</a><br /> +Lowell, <a href="#page_046">46</a>, <a href="#page_047">47</a><br /> +Lucca, Pauline, Piccolomini's resemblance to, <a href="#page_014">14</a>;<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">travelling of, <a href="#page_028">28</a>;</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">as Marguerite, <a href="#page_082">82</a>;</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">in <i>Fra Diavolo</i>, <a href="#page_174">174</a>;</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">at rehearsal, <a href="#page_178">178</a>, <a href="#page_179">179</a>;</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">at Buckingham Palace, <a href="#page_184">184</a>, <a href="#page_185">185</a>;</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">at Covent Garden, <a href="#page_196">196</a>, <a href="#page_235">235</a>;</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">in America, <a href="#page_240">240</a>;</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Kellogg and, <a href="#page_245">245-250</a>;</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">as Mignon, <a href="#page_251">251</a>;</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">mention of, <a href="#page_294">294</a>, <a href="#page_329">329</a></span><br /> +Lucia, Patti in, <a href="#page_015">15</a>, <a href="#page_062">62</a>;<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">comparison with Linda of, <a href="#page_073">73</a>;</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">standing of, <a href="#page_073">73</a>;</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Kellogg in Chicago as, <a href="#page_113">113</a>, <a href="#page_237">237</a>;</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><i>rôle</i> of, <a href="#page_292">292</a>;</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Kellogg as, <a href="#page_329">329</a></span><br /> +<br /> +<a name="M" id="M"></a>Maas, Joseph, <a href="#page_256">256-258</a>, <a href="#page_261">261</a><br /> +Macci, Victor, opera by, <a href="#page_068">68</a><br /> +Macmillan, Lady, <a href="#page_284">284</a><br /> +Maddox, <a href="#page_194">194</a>, <a href="#page_195">195</a>, <a href="#page_246">246</a>, <a href="#page_247">247</a><br /> +Maeterlinck, Mme., saying of, <a href="#page_103">103</a><br /> +Malibran, <a href="#page_094">94</a><br /> +Manchester, Consuelo, Duchess of, <a href="#page_184">184</a><br /> +Mancini, <a href="#page_359">359</a><br /> +Mansfield, Richard, mother of, <a href="#page_165">165</a><br /> +Manzocchi, <a href="#page_011">11</a><br /> +Mapleson, Col. J. M., <a href="#page_120">120</a>, <a href="#page_139">139</a>, <a href="#page_162">162</a>, <a href="#page_166">166</a>, <a href="#page_168">168</a>, <a href="#page_170">170</a>, <a href="#page_171">171</a>, <a href="#page_173">173</a>, <a href="#page_174">174</a>, <a href="#page_198">198</a>, <a href="#page_200">200</a>, <a href="#page_235">235</a>, <a href="#page_236">236</a>, <a href="#page_241">241</a>, <a href="#page_301">301</a>, <a href="#page_302">302</a><br /> +Mapleson, Henry, <a href="#page_289">289</a>, <a href="#page_290">290</a>, <a href="#page_292">292-294</a>, <a href="#page_303">303</a><br /> +Maretzek, Max, at the Academy, <a href="#page_040">40</a>;<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">during the war, <a href="#page_055">55</a>;</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">decision with regard to <i>Faust</i> of, <a href="#page_075">75</a>, <a href="#page_077">77</a>, <a href="#page_078">78</a>;</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Colonel Stebbins and, <a href="#page_085">85</a>;</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Mazzoleni and, <a href="#page_086">86</a>;</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><i>Faust</i> and, <a href="#page_087">87</a>, <a href="#page_088">88</a>;</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">benefit custom and, <a href="#page_091">91</a>, <a href="#page_092">92</a>, <a href="#page_119">119</a>;</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">in Philadelphia with, <a href="#page_201">201</a>;</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">saying of, <a href="#page_215">215</a>;</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">management of, <a href="#page_240">240</a></span><br /> +Marguerite, interpretation of, <a href="#page_042">42</a>;<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">estimate of, <a href="#page_080">80-84</a>, <a href="#page_333">333</a>;</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Nilsson as, <a href="#page_082">82</a>, <a href="#page_129">129</a>;</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">costume<a name="page_383" id="page_383"></a></span><br /> +of, <a href="#page_084">84</a>, <a href="#page_085">85</a>;<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Patti as, in France, <a href="#page_140">140</a>, <a href="#page_141">141</a>;</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">reference to, <a href="#page_243">243</a>, <a href="#page_263">263</a>;</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Lucca as, <a href="#page_249">249</a>, <a href="#page_250">250</a>;</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Kellogg as, <a href="#page_359">359</a></span><br /> +<i>Maria de Rohan</i>, Rovere in, <a href="#page_095">95</a><br /> +Mario, Grisi and, <a href="#page_014">14</a>;<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">mention of, <a href="#page_147">147</a>, <a href="#page_167">167</a>, <a href="#page_185">185</a>, <a href="#page_195">195</a>, <a href="#page_196">196</a></span><br /> +Martha, <a href="#page_062">62</a>, <a href="#page_073">73</a>, <a href="#page_074">74</a>;<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">comparison with Marguerite of, <a href="#page_079">79</a>;</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><i>Faust</i> and, <a href="#page_088">88</a>;</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">as Opéra Comique, <a href="#page_091">91</a>;</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">at Her Majesty's, <a href="#page_135">135</a>;</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Nilsson as, <a href="#page_145">145</a>;</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Kellogg as, <a href="#page_249">249</a>, <a href="#page_261">261</a>, <a href="#page_329">329</a></span><br /> +Martin, Mrs., <a href="#page_202">202-207</a><br /> +Masaniello, <a href="#page_096">96</a><br /> +Masini, <a href="#page_338">338</a>, <a href="#page_340">340</a>, <a href="#page_341">341</a><br /> +Materna, Mme., <a href="#page_329">329</a>, <a href="#page_331">331</a><br /> +Matthews, Brander, wife of, <a href="#page_069">69</a>;<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">reception by father of, <a href="#page_100">100</a>, <a href="#page_101">101</a></span><br /> +Maurel, <a href="#page_141">141</a>, <a href="#page_295">295</a>, <a href="#page_306">306</a>, <a href="#page_307">307</a><br /> +Mazzoleni as Faust, <a href="#page_086">86</a>, <a href="#page_087">87</a><br /> +McCook, Alec, <a href="#page_018">18</a>, <a href="#page_057">57</a><br /> +McCreary, Lieutenant, <a href="#page_018">18</a>, <a href="#page_057">57</a><br /> +McCullough, John, <a href="#page_282">282</a>, <a href="#page_300">300</a><br /> +McHenry, <a href="#page_143">143</a>, <a href="#page_145">145</a>, <a href="#page_148">148</a>, <a href="#page_158">158</a>, <a href="#page_167">167</a>, <a href="#page_190">190</a>, <a href="#page_197">197</a>, <a href="#page_198">198</a><br /> +McKenzie, Sir Edward, <a href="#page_190">190</a>, <a href="#page_300">300</a>, <a href="#page_301">301</a><br /> +McVickar, Commodore, <a href="#page_121">121</a>, <a href="#page_126">126</a><br /> +Medori, Mme., as Linda, <a href="#page_042">42</a>;<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">in Don Giovanni, <a href="#page_074">74</a></span><br /> +<i>Meister, Wilhelm</i>, <a href="#page_251">251</a>, <a href="#page_252">252</a><br /> +<i>Meistersinger, Die</i>, <a href="#page_091">91</a><br /> +Melodies, negro, <a href="#page_001">1</a>, <a href="#page_009">9</a>, <a href="#page_117">117</a>, <a href="#page_146">146</a>, <a href="#page_305">305</a>, <a href="#page_357">357</a><br /> +Menier, Chocolat, <a href="#page_243">243</a>, <a href="#page_309">309</a><br /> +Meyerbeer, <a href="#page_090">90</a>;<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">craze for, <a href="#page_101">101</a>;</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">a song of, <a href="#page_102">102</a>;</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">son-in-law of, <a href="#page_328">328</a></span><br /> +Mignon, effect on audience of, <a href="#page_059">59</a>;<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Polonaise from, <a href="#page_183">183</a>, <a href="#page_229">229</a>, <a href="#page_305">305</a>, <a href="#page_358">358</a>;</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Lucca and Kellogg in, <a href="#page_251">251</a>;</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">in English, <a href="#page_257">257</a>, <a href="#page_260">260</a>;</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Cary as, <a href="#page_293">293</a>;</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">cast of, <a href="#page_298">298</a>;</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Kellogg as, <a href="#page_329">329</a>, <a href="#page_330">330</a>, <a href="#page_331">331</a>;</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">reference to, <a href="#page_370">370</a></span><br /> +Mike, <a href="#page_266">266</a><br /> +Millet, <a href="#page_011">11</a>;<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">son of, <a href="#page_282">282</a></span><br /> +Mind, sub-conscious, <a href="#page_013">13</a>;<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">workings of the, <a href="#page_035">35</a>, <a href="#page_169">169</a>, <a href="#page_216">216</a></span><br /> +Minstrels, negro, <a href="#page_008">8</a><br /> +Mireille, <a href="#page_240">240</a>, <a href="#page_243">243</a><br /> +Mistral, <a href="#page_240">240</a><br /> +Modjeska, Helena, in <i>Adrienne</i><a name="page_384" id="page_384"></a><br /> +<i>Lecouvreur</i>, <a href="#page_059">59</a>;<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">in Camille <a href="#page_069">69</a>;</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">saying of, <a href="#page_070">70</a>;</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Okakura and, <a href="#page_281">281</a>;</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Kellogg and, <a href="#page_282">282</a>, <a href="#page_283">283</a>;</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">custom of, <a href="#page_352">352</a></span><br /> +Moncrieff, Mrs., <a href="#page_243">243</a><br /> +Morelli, <a href="#page_294">294</a><br /> +Morgan, Wilfred, <a href="#page_258">258</a>, <a href="#page_259">259</a>, <a href="#page_269">269</a><br /> +Mother, first mention of, <a href="#page_002">2</a>, <a href="#page_003">3</a>, <a href="#page_004">4</a>;<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">attitude toward theatre of, <a href="#page_030">30</a>, <a href="#page_031">31</a>;</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">presence at performance of Gilda of, <a href="#page_035">35</a>;</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">in Boston with, <a href="#page_044">44</a>, <a href="#page_052">52</a>;</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">in New Hartford with, <a href="#page_067">67</a>;</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><i>Faust</i> and, <a href="#page_081">81</a>;</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">character of, <a href="#page_108">108</a>;</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">anecdote of, <a href="#page_128">128</a>;</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">in England, <a href="#page_137">137</a>;</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">in Paris, <a href="#page_139">139</a>, <a href="#page_143">143</a>;</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">diary of, <a href="#page_154">154-157</a>, <a href="#page_163">163</a>, <a href="#page_164">164</a>, <a href="#page_166">166-168</a>, <a href="#page_173">173</a>, <a href="#page_174">174</a>, <a href="#page_178">178</a>, <a href="#page_197">197</a>, <a href="#page_198">198</a>, <a href="#page_308">308</a>, <a href="#page_326">326</a>;</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">mention of, <a href="#page_186">186</a>, <a href="#page_188">188</a>, <a href="#page_190">190</a>, <a href="#page_194">194</a>, <a href="#page_195">195</a>, <a href="#page_200">200</a>, <a href="#page_252">252</a>, <a href="#page_259">259</a>, <a href="#page_286">286</a>, <a href="#page_304">304</a>, <a href="#page_307">307</a>, <a href="#page_334">334</a>;</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Eugene Field and, <a href="#page_271">271</a>;</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">in Russia, <a href="#page_349">349</a>, <a href="#page_352">352-356</a>;</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">health of, <a href="#page_365">365</a></span><br /> +Moulton, melody of <i>Beware</i> by, <a href="#page_175">175</a><br /> +Moulton, Mrs., <a href="#page_277">277</a><br /> +Mowbray, J. P., <i>see</i> Wheeler<br /> +Mozart, operas of, <a href="#page_074">74</a>;<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">English and, <a href="#page_136">136</a>;</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><i>arias</i> of, <a href="#page_146">146</a>;</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">with Titjiens in operas of, <a href="#page_169">169</a>;</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">all-star casts of, <a href="#page_170">170</a>;</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">music of, <a href="#page_366">366</a></span><br /> +Munkacsy, <a href="#page_219">219</a><br /> +Murska, Mlle., Ilma de, <a href="#page_296">296</a><br /> +Muzio, <a href="#page_011">11</a>;<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">appearance of, <a href="#page_012">12</a>;</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">opinion of, <a href="#page_017">17</a>;</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">concert tour of Kellogg with, <a href="#page_022">22</a>;</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Italian traditions and, <a href="#page_066">66</a>;</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">concert tour under, <a href="#page_072">72</a>;</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">polka by, <a href="#page_088">88</a></span><br /> +<br /> +<a name="N" id="N"></a>Napoleon III, <a href="#page_148">148</a>, <a href="#page_149">149</a><br /> +Negroes, treatment of, <a href="#page_058">58</a>;<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">in New York during the war, <a href="#page_060">60</a>;</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">discussions regarding the, <a href="#page_060">60</a>;</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">anti-negro riots, <a href="#page_323">323</a></span><br /> +Neilson, Adelaide, <a href="#page_247">247</a><br /> +Neilson, Alice, in <i>Faust</i>, <a href="#page_082">82</a><br /> +Nevin, <a href="#page_322">322</a><br /> +Newcastle, Duchess of, <a href="#page_184">184</a>, <a href="#page_188">188</a>, <a href="#page_197">197</a><br /> +Newcastle, Duke of, <a href="#page_100">100</a>, <a href="#page_125">125</a>;<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">in box of, <a href="#page_146">146</a>, <a href="#page_167">167</a>, <a href="#page_168">168</a>, <a href="#page_173">173</a>, <a href="#page_174">174</a>, <a href="#page_188">188</a>, <a href="#page_189">189</a>, <a href="#page_191">191</a>, <a href="#page_192">192</a>;</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">pin of the, <a href="#page_193">193</a>, <a href="#page_194">194</a>, <a href="#page_197">197</a>, <a href="#page_198">198</a>, <a href="#page_235">235</a></span><br /> +Newson, <a href="#page_006">6</a>, <a href="#page_007">7</a><br /> +Nicolini, <a href="#page_130">130</a>, <a href="#page_148">148</a>, <a href="#page_184">184</a>, 185<a name="page_385" id="page_385"></a><br /> +Night, Queen of the, Nilsson as, <a href="#page_146">146</a><br /> +Nilsson, Christine, as Marguerite, <a href="#page_082">82</a>;<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">in London, <a href="#page_129">129</a>, <a href="#page_131">131</a>, <a href="#page_132">132</a>, <a href="#page_137">137</a>, <a href="#page_169">169</a>, <a href="#page_173">173</a>, <a href="#page_235">235</a>;</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">as Martha, <a href="#page_145">145</a>;</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">voice of, <a href="#page_146">146</a>, <a href="#page_147">147</a>;</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">superstition of, <a href="#page_165">165</a>, <a href="#page_166">166</a>;</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">in opera with, <a href="#page_169">169</a>;</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Sir Michael Costa and, <a href="#page_170">170</a>;</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">at Buckingham Palace, <a href="#page_184">184</a>;</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">friend of, <a href="#page_190">190</a>;</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">reference to, <a href="#page_196">196</a>, <a href="#page_239">239</a>, <a href="#page_252">252</a>, <a href="#page_261">261</a>, <a href="#page_294">294</a>, <a href="#page_295">295</a>, <a href="#page_326">326</a>, <a href="#page_329">329</a></span><br /> +<i>Noces de Jeannette, Les</i>, <a href="#page_029">29</a>, <a href="#page_062">62</a>;<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">libretto of, <a href="#page_068">68</a></span><br /> +Nordica, Lillian, <a href="#page_309">309</a>, <a href="#page_310">310</a>;<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Nevin's song and, <a href="#page_322">322</a>;</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">in Russia with, <a href="#page_337">337</a>, <a href="#page_341">341</a>, <a href="#page_347">347</a>, <a href="#page_348">348</a></span><br /> +Norma, Grisi as, <a href="#page_158">158</a>;<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">reference to, <a href="#page_252">252</a></span><br /> +<i>Nozze di Figaro, Le</i>, <a href="#page_170">170</a>, <a href="#page_171">171</a>, <a href="#page_174">174</a>, <a href="#page_197">197</a>, <a href="#page_198">198</a>, <a href="#page_249">249</a>, <a href="#page_261">261</a><br /> +<br /> +<i><a name="O" id="O"></a>Oh, had I Jubal's Lyre!</i> <a href="#page_172">172</a><br /> +Okakura, <a href="#page_219">219-222</a>, <a href="#page_281">281</a><br /> +Oldenburg, Prince, <a href="#page_346">346</a><br /> +Olin, Mrs. Stephen Henry, <a href="#page_276">276</a>, <a href="#page_277">277</a><br /> +<i>Opera, The Beggar's</i>, <a href="#page_258">258</a><br /> +Opéra bouffe, <a href="#page_090">90</a><br /> +Opéra comique, <a href="#page_090">90</a>, <a href="#page_091">91</a>, <a href="#page_097">97</a>;<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">of Paris, <a href="#page_236">236</a></span><br /> +Opera, traditions of, <a href="#page_012">12</a>, <a href="#page_077">77</a>, <a href="#page_079">79</a>, <a href="#page_263">263</a>, <a href="#page_277">277</a>;<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">necessities of, <a href="#page_034">34</a>;</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">effect of war on, <a href="#page_055">55</a>, <a href="#page_056">56</a>;</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">houses in America for, <a href="#page_068">68</a>;</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">early customs of, <a href="#page_084">84</a>;</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">innovations of, <a href="#page_087">87</a>;</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">benefit custom of, <a href="#page_091">91</a>;</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Her Majesty's, <a href="#page_120">120</a>, <a href="#page_129">129</a>, <a href="#page_136">136</a>, <a href="#page_171">171</a>, <a href="#page_178">178</a>, <a href="#page_235">235</a>;</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">French, <a href="#page_140">140</a>, <a href="#page_141">141</a>;</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">English, <a href="#page_254">254-258</a>, <a href="#page_260">260-303</a>;</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">translations of, <a href="#page_255">255</a>, <a href="#page_256">256</a>, <a href="#page_260">260</a>, <a href="#page_261">261</a>;</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Strakosch and, <a href="#page_303">303</a>;</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Imperial, <a href="#page_326">326</a>;</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">in Petersburg, <a href="#page_334">334-342</a>;</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">preparation for, <a href="#page_367">367</a>;</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">province of Italian, <a href="#page_370">370</a></span><br /> +Ophelia, Modjeska as, <a href="#page_282">282</a>;<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Kellogg as, <a href="#page_293">293</a></span><br /> +Othello, Salvini as, <a href="#page_283">283</a>;<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">in Munich <a href="#page_307">307</a></span><br /> +Oudin, Eugene, <a href="#page_277">277</a><br /> +Oxenford, <a href="#page_262">262</a><br /> +<br /> +<a name="P" id="P"></a>Palace, Buckingham, <a href="#page_176">176-179</a>;<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">concerts at, <a href="#page_179">179-186</a>, <a href="#page_302">302</a></span><br /> +Palace, Crystal, <a href="#page_172">172</a>, <a href="#page_174">174</a>, 209<a name="page_386" id="page_386"></a><br /> +Palmer, Anna, <a href="#page_011">11</a><br /> +Paloma, La, <a href="#page_249">249</a><br /> +Parker, Minnie, <a href="#page_276">276</a>, <a href="#page_277">277</a><br /> +Parodi, <a href="#page_294">294</a><br /> +<i>Pasquale, Don</i>, <a href="#page_096">96</a><br /> +Patey, Mme., <a href="#page_174">174</a><br /> +Patti, Adelina, <a href="#page_005">5</a>;<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">early appearance of, <a href="#page_015">15</a>;</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">as Marguerite, <a href="#page_082">82</a>;</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">voice of, <a href="#page_129">129</a>, <a href="#page_130">130</a>, <a href="#page_132">132</a>, <a href="#page_323">323</a>;</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">in London <a href="#page_077">77</a>, <a href="#page_129">129</a>, <a href="#page_132">132</a>, <a href="#page_135">135</a>, <a href="#page_184">184</a>, <a href="#page_185">185</a>, <a href="#page_195">195-198</a>, <a href="#page_235">235</a>;</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">sister of, <a href="#page_129">129</a>;</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">in Paris with, <a href="#page_308">308</a>;</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">comparison with, <a href="#page_330">330</a>;</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">questioning of, <a href="#page_365">365</a></span><br /> +Patti, Carlotta, <a href="#page_295">295</a><br /> +<i>Paul and Virginia</i>, <a href="#page_295">295</a><br /> +Peakes, <a href="#page_257">257</a><br /> +Pease, Miss Alta, <a href="#page_358">358</a><br /> +Pergolese, opera of <i>La Serva Padrona</i> by, <a href="#page_014">14</a><br /> +Peto, Sir Morton, banquet of, <a href="#page_099">99</a><br /> +Petrelli, <a href="#page_272">272</a><br /> +Petrovitch, <a href="#page_338">338</a><br /> +Phillips, Adelaide, as Maddalena, <a href="#page_041">41</a>;<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">as Pierotto, <a href="#page_041">41</a>, <a href="#page_248">248</a></span><br /> +Photography, new effects in, <a href="#page_208">208</a><br /> +Piccolomini, <a href="#page_014">14</a>, <a href="#page_074">74</a><br /> +Pinchot, Gifford, sister of, <a href="#page_353">353</a><br /> +Pine, Louisa, <a href="#page_013">13</a><br /> +Pitch, absolute, <a href="#page_004">4</a>, <a href="#page_165">165</a>, <a href="#page_267">267</a>;<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">standard of, <a href="#page_231">231</a></span><br /> +Plançon, <a href="#page_312">312</a><br /> +Plantagenet, Lady Edith, <a href="#page_297">297</a><br /> +<i>Poliuto</i>, <a href="#page_062">62</a>;<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">plot of, <a href="#page_071">71</a>;</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><i>Faust</i> and, <a href="#page_088">88</a></span><br /> +<i>Polka, Clara Louise</i>, <a href="#page_088">88</a><br /> +Pond, Major, <a href="#page_360">360</a>, <a href="#page_361">361</a><br /> +Pope Pius IX., <a href="#page_160">160</a><br /> +Porter, Ella, <a href="#page_011">11</a>;<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">in Paris, <a href="#page_084">84</a></span><br /> +Porter, General Horace, <a href="#page_019">19</a>, <a href="#page_020">20</a>, <a href="#page_057">57</a><br /> +Prascovia, Minnie Hauck as, <a href="#page_102">102</a>, <a href="#page_103">103</a><br /> +Press, criticisms of the, <a href="#page_027">27</a>, <a href="#page_035">35</a>, <a href="#page_039">39</a>, <a href="#page_042">42</a>, <a href="#page_068">68</a>, <a href="#page_070">70</a>, <a href="#page_075">75</a>, <a href="#page_078">78</a>, <a href="#page_088">88</a>, <a href="#page_089">89</a>, <a href="#page_094">94</a>, <a href="#page_097">97</a>, <a href="#page_133">133</a>, <a href="#page_135">135</a>, <a href="#page_164">164</a>, <a href="#page_200">200</a>, <a href="#page_211">211</a>, <a href="#page_215">215</a>, <a href="#page_239">239</a>, <a href="#page_240">240</a>, <a href="#page_250">250</a>, <a href="#page_252">252</a>, <a href="#page_256">256</a>, <a href="#page_258">258</a>, <a href="#page_271">271</a>, <a href="#page_279">279</a>, <a href="#page_291">291</a>, <a href="#page_358">358</a>;<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">standing of the, <a href="#page_328">328</a>;</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">in Vienna, <a href="#page_331">331</a>;</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">censorship in Russia of the, <a href="#page_336">336</a>;</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">interview, <a href="#page_366">366</a></span><br /> +Public, English, <a href="#page_136">136</a>, <a href="#page_194">194</a>, <a href="#page_237">237</a>;<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">American, <a href="#page_229">229</a>, <a href="#page_230">230</a>, <a href="#page_238">238</a>;</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">rival factions of the, <a href="#page_250">250</a>;</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">characteristics of the, <a href="#page_264">264</a>, <a href="#page_296">296</a>;</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Petersburg, <a href="#page_339">339</a>;</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Boston, <a href="#page_358">358</a>;</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">charm of the, <a href="#page_365">365</a>, 372<a name="page_387" id="page_387"></a></span><br /> +<i>Puritani, I</i>, Brignoli in, <a href="#page_029">29</a>;<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Kellogg in, <a href="#page_054">54</a>, <a href="#page_062">62</a>, <a href="#page_063">63</a></span><br /> +<br /> +<a name="Q" id="Q"></a>Quinn, Dr., <a href="#page_168">168</a>, <a href="#page_191">191</a>, <a href="#page_235">235</a><br /> +<br /> +<a name="R" id="R"></a>Rachel, <a href="#page_016">16</a><br /> +Racine, <a href="#page_306">306</a><br /> +Rampolla, Cardinal, <a href="#page_161">161</a><br /> +Ramsay, Captain, <a href="#page_357">357</a><br /> +Ramsay, Col., <a href="#page_300">300</a><br /> +Randegger, <a href="#page_195">195</a><br /> +Rathbone, General, <a href="#page_300">300</a><br /> +Reed, Miss Fanny, in Boston, <a href="#page_045">45</a>;<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">in New York, <a href="#page_277">277</a>, <a href="#page_278">278</a></span><br /> +Reeves, Sims, <a href="#page_174">174</a>, <a href="#page_175">175</a><br /> +<i>Reggimento, La Figlia del</i>, <a href="#page_056">56</a>, <a href="#page_058">58</a>, <a href="#page_062">62</a>;<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">at close of Civil War, <a href="#page_114">114</a>;</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Lucca in, <a href="#page_249">249</a></span><br /> +Renaud in opera, <a href="#page_040">40</a>, <a href="#page_265">265</a><br /> +Rice brothers, <a href="#page_094">94</a><br /> +<i>Rigoletto</i>, <a href="#page_029">29</a>, <a href="#page_034">34</a>, <a href="#page_036">36</a>;<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">opinion of Boston of, <a href="#page_036">36</a>;</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">origin of, <a href="#page_036">36</a>, <a href="#page_062">62</a>;</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">meaning of, <a href="#page_081">81</a>, <a href="#page_167">167</a>;</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Masini as, <a href="#page_341">341</a></span><br /> +Ristori, <a href="#page_016">16</a><br /> +Rivarde, <a href="#page_011">11</a><br /> +<i>Robert le Diable</i>, <a href="#page_086">86</a>, <a href="#page_201">201</a>, <a href="#page_332">332</a><br /> +Robertson, Agnes, <a href="#page_015">15</a><br /> +Robertson, Madge (Mrs. Kendall), <a href="#page_284">284</a><br /> +Robin, Theodore, <a href="#page_304">304-306</a><br /> +Rockitanski, <a href="#page_170">170</a><br /> +Ronalds, Mrs. Peter, <a href="#page_276">276</a>, <a href="#page_277">277</a>, <a href="#page_279">279</a><br /> +Ronconi, <a href="#page_094">94</a>;<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">The Czar and, <a href="#page_095">95</a>;</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">in <i>Fra Diavolo</i>, <a href="#page_095">95</a>;</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">anecdote of, <a href="#page_096">96</a></span><br /> +Rosa, Carl, <a href="#page_101">101</a><br /> +Rosa, Euphrosyne Parepa, <a href="#page_101">101</a>, <a href="#page_209">209</a>, <a href="#page_262">262</a><br /> +Rosina, <a href="#page_091">91</a>, <a href="#page_093">93</a>, <a href="#page_096">96</a>, <a href="#page_097">97</a>, <a href="#page_137">137</a><br /> +Rossini, <a href="#page_013">13</a>, <a href="#page_097">97</a>;<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">reference to, <a href="#page_133">133</a>;</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">English and, <a href="#page_136">136</a>;</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">traditions of, <a href="#page_277">277</a>;</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Nordica and, <a href="#page_310">310</a></span><br /> +Rossmore, Lady, <a href="#page_192">192</a>, <a href="#page_198">198</a><br /> +Rota, <a href="#page_261">261</a><br /> +Rothschild, Baron Alfred de, <a href="#page_194">194</a>, <a href="#page_198">198</a>, <a href="#page_235">235</a><br /> +Rovere, <a href="#page_094">94</a><br /> +Roze, Marie, <a href="#page_236">236</a>, <a href="#page_261">261</a>, <a href="#page_289">289</a>, <a href="#page_290">290</a>, <a href="#page_292">292</a>, <a href="#page_293">293</a>, <a href="#page_298">298</a><br /> +Rubenstein, <a href="#page_246">246</a>, <a href="#page_248">248</a><br /> +Rudersdorf, Mme. Erminie, <a href="#page_165">165</a><br /> +Ryan, Mr., <a href="#page_305">305</a><br /> +Ryloff, 269<a name="page_388" id="page_388"></a><br /> +<br /> +<i><a name="S" id="S"></a>Salome</i>, suppression of, <a href="#page_069">69</a>, <a href="#page_254">254</a><br /> +Salvini, <a href="#page_283">283</a><br /> +Sampson, Mr., <a href="#page_190">190</a>, <a href="#page_198">198</a><br /> +Sandford, Wright, <a href="#page_126">126</a>, <a href="#page_203">203</a><br /> +Santley, Ronconi and, <a href="#page_095">95</a>;<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">as Valentine, <a href="#page_132">132</a>;</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">kindness of, <a href="#page_134">134</a>;</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">as Almaviva, <a href="#page_137">137</a>, <a href="#page_167">167</a>, <a href="#page_168">168</a>, <a href="#page_170">170</a>, <a href="#page_173">173</a>, <a href="#page_174">174</a>, <a href="#page_184">184</a>, <a href="#page_198">198</a></span><br /> +Sanz, <a href="#page_248">248</a>, <a href="#page_249">249</a><br /> +Sargent, <a href="#page_281">281</a><br /> +Sbriglia, <a href="#page_310">310-313</a>;<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Jean de Reszke and, <a href="#page_313">313</a>, <a href="#page_314">314</a>, <a href="#page_367">367-369</a></span><br /> +Scalchi, Sofia, <a href="#page_172">172</a>, <a href="#page_185">185</a>;<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">in Petersburg, <a href="#page_337">337</a></span><br /> +Scarborough, Bishop, <a href="#page_300">300</a><br /> +Scola, lessons in acting from, <a href="#page_029">29</a>, <a href="#page_038">38</a><br /> +Scott, Sir Walter, <a href="#page_261">261</a><br /> +Sebasti, <a href="#page_161">161</a><br /> +Seguin, Stella, <a href="#page_257">257</a>, <a href="#page_258">258</a><br /> +Seguin, Ted, <a href="#page_258">258</a><br /> +Sembrich, Marcella, <a href="#page_337">337</a><br /> +Semiramide, <a href="#page_171">171</a>, <a href="#page_277">277</a>, <a href="#page_342">342</a><br /> +Senta, <a href="#page_263">263-265</a>, <a href="#page_292">292</a><br /> +<i>Serenade, The Persian</i>, <a href="#page_223">223</a><br /> +Shakespeare in music, <a href="#page_141">141</a><br /> +Sherman, General, in Chicago, <a href="#page_114">114</a><br /> +Siebel, Miss Sulzer as, <a href="#page_087">87</a><br /> +Singing, methods of, <a href="#page_005">5</a>;<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Grisi and, <a href="#page_158">158</a>, <a href="#page_159">159</a>;</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><i>prime donne</i> and, <a href="#page_231">231</a>;</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">early, <a href="#page_307">307</a>;</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Nordica and, <a href="#page_310">310</a>;</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Sbriglia and, <a href="#page_311">311-321</a>, <a href="#page_367">367-369</a>;</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">traditions of, <a href="#page_366">366</a></span><br /> +Sinico, Mme., <a href="#page_137">137</a><br /> +Sinnett, A. P., <a href="#page_189">189</a><br /> +Slezak, <a href="#page_312">312</a><br /> +Smith, Mark, <a href="#page_246">246</a><br /> +Society, Arion, <a href="#page_206">206</a><br /> +Somerset, Duchess of, <a href="#page_121">121-124</a>;<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">letters by, <a href="#page_125">125</a>;</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">beadwork of, <a href="#page_126">126</a>, <a href="#page_137">137</a>, <a href="#page_144">144</a>, <a href="#page_197">197</a>, <a href="#page_168">168</a>, <a href="#page_188">188</a>, <a href="#page_197">197</a></span><br /> +<i>Sonnambula, La</i>, <a href="#page_054">54</a>, <a href="#page_062">62-64</a>;<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">teaching of, <a href="#page_065">65</a>, <a href="#page_066">66</a>;</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><i>aria</i> from <a href="#page_067">67</a>;</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Murska in, <a href="#page_296">296</a></span><br /> +Sonnenthal, <a href="#page_330">330</a><br /> +Southern, the elder, <a href="#page_015">15</a><br /> +Spofford, Harriet Prescott, <a href="#page_050">50</a><br /> +<i>Stabat Mater</i>, <a href="#page_310">310</a><br /> +Stackpoole, Major, <a href="#page_192">192</a>, <a href="#page_197">197</a>, <a href="#page_198">198</a><br /> +Stage, attitude toward, <a href="#page_011">11</a>;<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Italian attitude toward, <a href="#page_012">12</a>;</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">English precedent of, <a href="#page_012">12</a>;</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">superstitions of, <a href="#page_024">24</a>, <a href="#page_036">36</a>, <a href="#page_165">165</a>;</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">primitive conditions of, <a href="#page_025">25</a>, <a href="#page_027">27</a>, <a href="#page_028">28</a>, <a href="#page_037">37</a>, <a href="#page_038">38</a>, <a href="#page_087">87</a>;</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">in France, 140<a name="page_389" id="page_389"></a></span><br /> +Stanley, <a href="#page_189">189</a><br /> +<i>Star of the North, The</i>, <a href="#page_102">102</a>;<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">flute song of, <a href="#page_173">173</a>;</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">in English, <a href="#page_257">257</a>, <a href="#page_266">266</a>;</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">quartette in, <a href="#page_267">267</a></span><br /> +<i>Star, The Evening</i>, <a href="#page_230">230</a><br /> +Stebbins, Colonel Henry G., <a href="#page_010">10</a>;<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">daughters of, <a href="#page_011">11</a>;</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">home of, <a href="#page_016">16</a>;</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">sister of, <a href="#page_033">33</a>;</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><i>Faust</i> and, <a href="#page_085">85</a>;</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">in England, <a href="#page_122">122-124</a>, <a href="#page_137">137</a>;</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">in Scotland, <a href="#page_131">131</a>;</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">in France, <a href="#page_155">155</a>, <a href="#page_158">158</a>;</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">daughter of, <a href="#page_160">160</a>;</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">friendship of, <a href="#page_171">171</a>, <a href="#page_173">173</a>, <a href="#page_174">174</a>, <a href="#page_197">197</a>, <a href="#page_198">198</a></span><br /> +Stevens, Mrs. Paran, in Boston, <a href="#page_044">44</a>, <a href="#page_045">45</a>, <a href="#page_278">278</a>;<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">sister of, <a href="#page_277">277</a></span><br /> +Stewart, Jules, <a href="#page_306">306</a><br /> +Stigelli, <a href="#page_033">33</a>, <a href="#page_071">71</a>, <a href="#page_294">294</a><br /> +Stowe, Harriet Beecher, <a href="#page_046">46</a>, <a href="#page_049">49</a><br /> +Strakosch, Maurice, <a href="#page_130">130</a>, <a href="#page_148">148</a>;<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Napoleon and, <a href="#page_149">149</a>;</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">at Covent Garden with, <a href="#page_194">194</a>, <a href="#page_198">198</a>;</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Patti and, advice of, <a href="#page_294">294</a>;</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">methods of, <a href="#page_302">302</a></span><br /> +Strakosch, Max, <a href="#page_200">200</a>, <a href="#page_201">201</a>, <a href="#page_204">204</a>, <a href="#page_205">205</a>, <a href="#page_240">240</a>, <a href="#page_289">289</a>, <a href="#page_292">292</a>, <a href="#page_294">294-296</a>, <a href="#page_300">300</a>, <a href="#page_303">303</a>, <a href="#page_359">359</a><br /> +Strauss, <a href="#page_079">79</a>, <a href="#page_254">254</a><br /> +Sulzer, Miss, <a href="#page_087">87</a><br /> +<i>Summer, The Last Rose of</i>, <a href="#page_135">135</a><br /> +Susanna, Kellogg as, <a href="#page_170">170</a>, <a href="#page_240">240</a><br /> +Susini, name of, <a href="#page_022">22</a>;<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">as the Baron in <i>Linda</i>, <a href="#page_041">41</a>;</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">wife of, <a href="#page_041">41</a>;</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">sense of humour of, <a href="#page_042">42</a>;</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">salute of Grant and Sherman by, <a href="#page_115">115</a>;</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">mention of, <a href="#page_294">294</a></span><br /> +<br /> +<a name="T" id="T"></a>Tadema, Alma, <a href="#page_191">191</a><br /> +Tagliapietra, <a href="#page_358">358</a><br /> +<i>Talisman, The</i>, <a href="#page_261">261</a>, <a href="#page_297">297</a><br /> +Talleyrand, Marquis de, <a href="#page_157">157</a>, <a href="#page_158">158</a><br /> +<i>Tannhäuser</i>, <a href="#page_140">140</a>, <a href="#page_230">230</a><br /> +Tennants, <a href="#page_189">189</a><br /> +Terry, Ellen, <a href="#page_234">234</a>, <a href="#page_248">248</a>;<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">opinion of, <a href="#page_283">283</a>, <a href="#page_284">284</a></span><br /> +Thalberg, <a href="#page_106">106</a>;<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Strakosch and, <a href="#page_294">294</a></span><br /> +Theatre, in England, <a href="#page_131">131</a>;<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">in France, <a href="#page_140">140</a>, <a href="#page_141">141</a>;</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Her Majesty's <a href="#page_189">189</a>, <a href="#page_235">235</a>;</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">traditions of the, <a href="#page_366">366</a></span><br /> +Theatre, Booth's, <a href="#page_267">267</a><br /> +Théâtre Comique, <a href="#page_307">307</a><br /> +Théâtre Français, <a href="#page_265">265</a>, <a href="#page_306">306</a><br /> +Théâtre Lyrique, <a href="#page_145">145</a><br /> +Thomas, Ambrose, 146<a name="page_390" id="page_390"></a><br /> +Thomas, Theodore, at the Academy, <a href="#page_040">40</a>;<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">in Chicago, <a href="#page_321">321</a></span><br /> +Thomaschewski, Dr., <a href="#page_337">337</a>, <a href="#page_347">347</a><br /> +Thompson troupe, Lydia, <a href="#page_069">69</a><br /> +<i>Thorough-base</i>, <a href="#page_002">2</a><br /> +Thursby, Emma, <a href="#page_298">298</a><br /> +Tilton, Mrs. Elizabeth, <a href="#page_214">214</a><br /> +Titjiens, in London, <a href="#page_077">77</a>, <a href="#page_129">129</a>, <a href="#page_132">132</a>, <a href="#page_137">137</a>, <a href="#page_139">139</a>, <a href="#page_170">170</a>, <a href="#page_173">173</a>;<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">pet of, <a href="#page_168">168</a>, <a href="#page_169">169</a>, <a href="#page_178">178</a>, <a href="#page_179">179</a>, <a href="#page_185">185</a>, <a href="#page_196">196</a>, <a href="#page_235">235</a>, <a href="#page_239">239</a>, <a href="#page_302">302</a></span><br /> +<i>Traviata</i>, Piccolomini in, <a href="#page_014">14</a>;<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">the part of Violetta in, <a href="#page_015">15</a>, <a href="#page_062">62</a>;</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">libretto of, <a href="#page_068">68</a>;</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">public opinion of, <a href="#page_069">69</a>, <a href="#page_070">70</a>;</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Patti in, <a href="#page_130">130</a>;</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">at Her Majesty's, <a href="#page_135">135</a>, <a href="#page_164">164</a>;</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">costume in, <a href="#page_136">136</a>;</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">rehearsal of, <a href="#page_163">163</a>;</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">success of, <a href="#page_164">164</a>;</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Lucca in, <a href="#page_249">249</a>;</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">interpretation of, <a href="#page_291">291</a>;</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Kellogg in <a href="#page_329">329</a>, <a href="#page_338">338</a>, <a href="#page_342">342</a>;</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">solo from, <a href="#page_357">357</a></span><br /> +Trebelli-Bettini, <a href="#page_236">236</a><br /> +Trentini, Emma, superstition of, <a href="#page_166">166</a><br /> +Trobriand, Baron de, opinions and stories of, <a href="#page_016">16</a><br /> +Trollope, Anthony, <a href="#page_046">46</a>, <a href="#page_048">48</a><br /> +<i>Trovatore</i>, Mme. de la Grange in, <a href="#page_013">13</a>;<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Marie Willt in, <a href="#page_153">153</a>;</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Lucca in, <a href="#page_179">179</a>;</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Kellogg in, <a href="#page_201">201</a>, <a href="#page_249">249</a>, <a href="#page_260">260</a>, <a href="#page_261">261</a>, <a href="#page_329">329</a>;</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Carlton in, <a href="#page_268">268</a></span><br /> +Tschaikowsky, <a href="#page_306">306</a><br /> +Turner, Charles, <a href="#page_261">261</a><br /> +<br /> +<a name="V" id="V"></a>Valentine, Carlton as, <a href="#page_260">260</a>;<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Kellogg as, <a href="#page_295">295</a></span><br /> +Vanderbilt, Frederick W., <a href="#page_300">300</a><br /> +Vanderbilt, William H., <a href="#page_197">197</a>, <a href="#page_285">285</a>, <a href="#page_286">286</a><br /> +Vane-Tempest, Lady Susan, <a href="#page_192">192</a>, <a href="#page_197">197</a><br /> +Van Zandt, Miss, <a href="#page_307">307</a><br /> +Van Zandt, Mrs., <a href="#page_257">257</a><br /> +Verdi, mention of, <a href="#page_011">11</a>;<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Falstaff of, <a href="#page_091">91</a>;</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">reference to, <a href="#page_133">133</a>, <a href="#page_292">292</a>, <a href="#page_298">298</a>;</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">meeting with, <a href="#page_307">307</a>, <a href="#page_308">308</a>;</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">criticism of, <a href="#page_331">331</a></span><br /> +Vernon, Mrs., <a href="#page_015">15</a><br /> +Victoria, Queen, <a href="#page_177">177</a>, <a href="#page_186">186</a>, <a href="#page_301">301</a><br /> +Villiers, Colonel, <a href="#page_353">353</a><br /> +Violetta, <a href="#page_015">15</a>;<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">character of, <a href="#page_070">70</a>;</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">gowns of <a href="#page_070">70</a>;</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">jewels for, <a href="#page_104">104</a>;</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Patti as, <a href="#page_130">130</a>;</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">costume of, <a href="#page_135">135</a>;</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Kellogg as, <a href="#page_338">338</a>;</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">solo of, <a href="#page_357">357</a></span><br /> +Vogel, <a href="#page_307">307</a><br /> +Voltaire, house of, 143<a name="page_391" id="page_391"></a><br /> +<br /> +<a name="W" id="W"></a>Wagner, fondness of Kellogg for music of, <a href="#page_030">30</a>;<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">use of flute by, <a href="#page_052">52</a>;</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">as a revolutionist, <a href="#page_078">78</a>, <a href="#page_263">263</a>, <a href="#page_264">264</a>, <a href="#page_265">265</a>;</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">reviewers and, <a href="#page_088">88</a>;</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">mention of, <a href="#page_090">90</a>, <a href="#page_292">292</a>;</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">French idea of, <a href="#page_140">140</a>, <a href="#page_253">253</a>;</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">von Bulow and, <a href="#page_298">298</a>;</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Hanslick and, <a href="#page_329">329</a>, <a href="#page_330">330</a></span><br /> +Walcot, Charles, <a href="#page_015">15</a><br /> +Wales, Prince of, <a href="#page_133">133</a>, <a href="#page_164">164</a>, <a href="#page_177">177</a>, <a href="#page_178">178</a>, <a href="#page_180">180-183</a>;<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">daughter of, <a href="#page_190">190</a>, <a href="#page_192">192</a>, <a href="#page_301">301</a>, <a href="#page_302">302</a></span><br /> +Wales, Princess of, <a href="#page_178">178</a>, <a href="#page_180">180-183</a>, <a href="#page_302">302</a><br /> +Wallack, John, exclamation of, <a href="#page_016">16</a><br /> +Wallack, Lester, <a href="#page_300">300</a><br /> +<i>Waltz, The Kellogg</i>, <a href="#page_135">135</a>, <a href="#page_138">138</a><br /> +War, Civil, West Point before the, <a href="#page_019">19</a>;<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">beginning of the, <a href="#page_054">54</a>;</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">attitude of public toward, <a href="#page_055">55</a>;</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">riots in New York during, <a href="#page_059">59-61</a>;</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">opera during the, <a href="#page_074">74</a>, <a href="#page_075">75</a>;</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">close of, <a href="#page_110">110</a>;</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">after the, <a href="#page_201">201</a>;</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">reference to, <a href="#page_233">233</a>, <a href="#page_359">359</a>, <a href="#page_360">360</a></span><br /> +Wehli, James M., <a href="#page_201">201</a><br /> +Welldon, Georgina, <a href="#page_241">241-243</a><a name="page_392" id="page_392"></a><br /> +Werther, <a href="#page_091">91</a><br /> +West Point, primitive conditions of, <a href="#page_017">17</a>;<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">conspiracies at, <a href="#page_018">18</a></span><br /> +Wheeler, A. C., <a href="#page_042">42</a>, <a href="#page_075">75</a><br /> +White, Stanford, <a href="#page_280">280</a><br /> +Whitney, M. W., <a href="#page_298">298</a><br /> +Widor, <a href="#page_305">305</a><br /> +Wieniawski, <a href="#page_246">246</a><br /> +Wig, for Marguerite, <a href="#page_082">82-84</a>, <a href="#page_140">140</a>;<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">of Leuta, <a href="#page_265">265</a></span><br /> +Wilde, Oscar, <a href="#page_254">254</a>, <a href="#page_255">255</a><br /> +Willt, Marie, anecdote of, <a href="#page_153">153</a><br /> +Witherspoon, Herbert, in Norfolk, <a href="#page_009">9</a>;<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">in New Hartford, <a href="#page_067">67</a></span><br /> +Wood, Mrs. John, <a href="#page_015">15</a><br /> +Worth, creations of, <a href="#page_136">136</a>, <a href="#page_278">278</a>, <a href="#page_279">279</a>, <a href="#page_347">347</a>, <a href="#page_348">348</a><br /> +Wyckoff, Chevalier, <a href="#page_148">148</a>, <a href="#page_188">188</a><br /> +<br /> +<a name="Y" id="Y"></a>Yeats, Edmund, <a href="#page_246">246</a>, <a href="#page_247">247</a><br /> +Young, Brigham, <a href="#page_298">298</a><br /> +<br /> +<a name="Z" id="Z"></a>Zerlina, Piccolomini as, <a href="#page_014">14</a>;<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Kellogg as, <a href="#page_074">74</a>, <a href="#page_091">91-93</a>, <a href="#page_097">97</a>, <a href="#page_137">137</a>, <a href="#page_170">170</a>;</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">country of, <a href="#page_159">159</a>;</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Lucca as, <a href="#page_249">249</a></span><br /> +</p> + +<p><a name="page_393" id="page_393"></a></p> + +<hr /> + +<p class="cb"><i>A Selection from the Catalogue of</i><br /> +G. P. PUTNAM'S SONS</p> + +<p class="cb">Complete Catalogue sent on application</p> + +<p><a name="page_394" id="page_394"></a></p> + +<p><a name="page_395" id="page_395"></a></p> + +<div class="boxx"> + +<p>"<i>A grab-bag of fascinations, for open the pages where one will, each +chapter has its racy anecdote and astonishing story.</i>"</p> + +<hr /> + +<p class="c"><big>My Autobiography</big></p> + +<p class="cb">————</p> + +<p class="cb">Madame Judith<br /> +of the Comédie Française</p> + +<p class="cb">Edited by Paul G'Sell</p> + +<p class="cb">Translated by Mrs. Arthur Bull</p> + +<p class="c"><i>With Photogravure Frontispiece. $3.50 net By mail, $3.75</i></p> + +<p>Madame Judith was not only a stage rival but a close friend of the great +French actress, Rachel, and the intimate of Victor Hugo, Alfred de +Musset, Alexandra Dumas, Prince Napoleon, and many other men of letters +and rank.</p> + +<p>Madame Judith's memories extend over an intensely interesting period of +French history, commencing with the Revolution that ushered in the +Second Empire, and ending with the foundation of the Republic after the +Franco-Prussian War.</p> + +<p>Famous actors and actresses, poets, novelists, dramatists, members of +the imperial family, statesmen, and minor actors in the drama of life +flit across the canvas, their personalities being vividly realized by +some significant anecdotes or telling characterizations.</p> + +<p>Kind-hearted, clear-headed, and brilliantly gifted, Madame Judith led an +active and fascinating life, and it is to her credit that while she does +not hesitate to tell of the weaknesses of others, she is equally ready +to acknowledge her own.</p> + +<hr /> + +<p class="cb">New York G. P. Putnam's Sons London</p> +</div> + +<div class="boxx"> + +<p class="cb">The Life of</p> + +<p class="cb">Henry Labouchere</p> + +<p class="cb">By Algar Labouchere Thorold</p> + +<p class="c"><i>Authorized Edition. 2 vols. With 6 Photogravure Illustrations</i></p> + +<p>The authorized edition has been prepared by the nephew of Mr. +Labouchere, who for the last ten years has been a close neighbor of, and +in intimate and personal relation with him. Mr. Labouchere frequently +communicated to Mr. Thorold many details of his early life, and +discussed with him his numerous activities with great freedom. Mr. +Thorold has, furthermore, sole access to a voluminous correspondence, +including letters from King Edward VII. when Prince of Wales, Mr. +Gladstone, Lord Morley, Sir William Harcourt, Mr. Parnell, Lord Randolph +Churchill, and Sir Henry Campbell-Bannerman, which shed a new and +unexpected light upon his political and personal relations with the +events and people of his time, in particular his connection with the +Radical Party over a period of a considerable number of years. His life +as a war correspondent during the siege of Paris and his action in +connection with the Parnell Commission, culminating in the dramatic +confession of Pigott, will be treated in full detail. As is well-known +Mr. Labouchere was the founder and first editor of <i>Truth</i>, that unique +production of modern journalism; and much new and interesting +information concerning the foundation and early days of this remarkable +journal will be brought before the public.</p> + +<hr /> + +<p class="cb">New York G. P. Putnam's Sons London</p> +</div> + +<div class="boxx"> + +<p class="cb">A Woman's Defense</p> + +<hr /> + +<p class="cb"><big>My Own Story</big></p> + +<p class="cb">By Louisa of Tuscany<br /> +Ex-Crown Princess of Saxony</p> + +<p class="c"><i>With 19 Illustrations from Original Photographs 8º. $3.50 net. (By +mail, $3.75)</i></p> + +<p>In this volume Princess Louisa gives for the first time the authentic +inside history of the events that led to her sensational escape from the +Court of Saxony and her meeting with Monsieur Giron, with whom the +tongue of scandal had associated her name. It is a story of Court +intrigue that reads like romance.</p> + +<p>"As the story of a woman's life, as a description of the private affairs +of Royal houses, we have had nothing more intimate, more scandalous, or +more readable than this very frank story."</p> + +<p> +<i>Miss Jeannette L. Gilder in "The Reader."</i><br /> +</p> + +<p>"Frank, free, amazingly intimate, refreshing.... She has spared nobody +from kings and kaisers to valets and chambermaids."</p> + +<p> +<i>London Morning Post.</i><br /> +</p> + +<p>"The Princess is a decidedly vivacious writer, and she does not mince +words in describing the various royalties by whom she was surrounded. +Some of her pictures of Court life will prove a decided revelation to +most readers."—<i>N. Y. Times.</i></p> + +<hr /> + +<p class="cb">New York G. P. Putnam's Sons London</p> +</div> + +<div class="boxxx"> +<p class="cbu">A STARTLING BOOK!</p> + +<p class="cb"><big><big><big>My Past</big></big></big></p> + +<p class="cb">Reminiscences of the Courts of Austria and of Bavaria</p> + +<p class="cb">By the Countess Marie Larisch<br /> +Née Baroness Von Wallersee<br /> +Daughter of Duke Ludwig and Niece of the Late Empress Elizabeth of +Austria</p> + +<p class="c"><i>8º. With 21 Illustrations from Original Photographs $3.50 net. By mail, +$3.75</i></p> + +<p class="cbu"><i>The True Story of the Tragic Death of Rudolph, Crown Prince of Austria</i></p> + +<p>The author was the favourite niece of the Empress Elizabeth of Austria +and enjoyed her aunt's complete trust. The Empress confided to her many +circumstances which this cautious ruler withheld from others close to +her person. Her station at the Austrian Court has enabled her to tell +many intimate and curiosity-arousing anecdotes concerning the noble +families of Europe.</p> + +<p>Interesting and full of glamour as her life was, however, her place in +history is assured primarily through her inadvertent connection with the +amour which Crown Prince Rudolph of Austria carried on with the Baroness +Mary Vetsera, and which culminated in the tragic death of the lovers at +Meyerling.</p> + +<p>"<i>An amazing chronicle of imperial and royal scandals, which spares no +member of the two august houses to which she is related.</i>"—<i>N. Y. +Tribune.</i></p> + +<hr /> + +<p class="cb">New York G. P. Putnam's Sons London</p> +</div> + +<hr class="full" /> + + + + + + + + +<pre> + + + + + +End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of Memoirs of an American Prima Donna, by +Clara Louise Kellogg + +*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK MEMOIRS OF AN AMERICAN PRIMA DONNA *** + +***** This file should be named 38023-h.htm or 38023-h.zip ***** +This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: + http://www.gutenberg.org/3/8/0/2/38023/ + +Produced by Chuck Greif, University of Michigan Libraries +and the Online Distributed Proofreading Team at +http://www.pgdp.net + + +Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions +will be renamed. + +Creating the works from public domain print editions means that no +one owns a United States copyright in these works, so the Foundation +(and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United States without +permission and without paying copyright royalties. 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You may copy it, give it away or +re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included +with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org + + +Title: Memoirs of an American Prima Donna + +Author: Clara Louise Kellogg + +Release Date: November 15, 2011 [EBook #38023] + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: ASCII + +*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK MEMOIRS OF AN AMERICAN PRIMA DONNA *** + + + + +Produced by Chuck Greif, University of Michigan Libraries +and the Online Distributed Proofreading Team at +http://www.pgdp.net + + + + + + + + +[Illustration: Signature; Clara Louise Kellogg Strakosch] + + + + +Memoirs of an + +American Prima Donna + +By + +Clara Louise Kellogg +(Mme. Strakosch) + +_With 40 Illustrations_ + +G. P. Putnam's Sons +New York and London +The Knickerbocker Press +1913 + +COPYRIGHT, 1913 +BY +CLARA LOUISE KELLOGG STRAKOSCH + +The Knickerbocker Press, New York + + WITH AFFECTION AND DEEPEST APPRECIATION OF HER WORTH + AS BOTH A RARE WOMAN AND A RARER FRIEND + I INSCRIBE THIS RECORD OF MY + PUBLIC LIFE TO + + JEANNETTE L. GILDER + + + + +FOREWORD + + +The name of Clara Louise Kellogg is known to the immediate generation +chiefly as an echo of the past. Yet only thirty years ago it was written +of her, enthusiastically but truthfully, that "no living singer needs a +biography less than Miss Clara Louise Kellogg; and nowhere in the world +would a biography of her be so superfluous as in America, where her name +is a household word and her illustrious career is familiar in all its +triumphant details to the whole people." + +The past to which she belongs is therefore recent; it is the past of +yesterday only, thought of tenderly by our fathers and mothers, spoken +of reverently as a poignant phase of their own ephemeral youth, one of +their sweet lavender memories. The pity is (although this is itself part +of the evanescent charm), that the singer's best creations can live but +in the hearts of a people, and the fame of sound is as fugitive as life +itself. + +A record of such creations is, however, possible and also enduring; +while it is also necessary for a just estimate of the development of +civilisations. As such, this record of her musical past--presented by +Clara Louise Kellogg herself--will have a place in the annals of the +evolution of musical art on the North American continent long after +every vestige of fluttering personal reminiscence has vanished down the +ages. A word of appreciation with regard to the preparation of this +record is due to John Jay Whitehead, Jr., whose diligent chronological +labours have materially assisted the editor. + +Clara Louise Kellogg came from New England stock of English heritage. +She was named after Clara Novello. Her father, George Kellogg, was an +inventor of various machines and instruments and, at the time of her +birth, was principal of Sumter Academy, Sumterville, S. C. Thus the +famous singer was acclaimed in later years not only as the Star of the +North (the _role_ of Catherine in Meyerbeer's opera of that name being +one of her achievements) but also as "the lone star of the South in the +operatic world." She first sang publicly in New York in 1861 at an +evening party given by Mr. Edward Cooper, the brother of Mrs. Abram +Hewitt. This was the year of her _debut_ as Gilda in Verdi's opera of +_Rigoletto_ at the Academy of Music in New York City. When she came +before her countrymen as a singer, she was several decades ahead of her +musical public, for she was a lyric artist as well as a singer. America +was not then producing either singers or lyric artists; and in fact we +were, as a nation, but just getting over the notion that America could +not produce great voices. We held a very firm contempt for our own +facilities, our knowledge, and our taste in musical matters. If we did +discover a rough diamond, we had to send it to Italy to find out if it +were of the first water and to have it polished and set. Nothing was so +absolutely necessary for our self-respect as that some American woman +should arise with sufficient American talent and bravery to prove beyond +all cavil that the country was able to produce both singers and artists. + +For rather more than twenty-five years, from her appearance as Gilda +until she quietly withdrew from public life, when it seemed to her that +the appropriate moment for so doing had come, Clara Louise Kellogg +filled this need and maintained her contention. She was educated in +America, and her career, both in America and abroad, was remarkable in +its consistent triumphs. When Gounod's _Faust_ was a musical and an +operatic innovation, she broke through the Italian traditions of her +training and created the _role_ of Marguerite according to her own +beliefs; and throughout her later characterisations in Italian opera, +she sustained a wonderfully poised attitude of independence and of +observance with regard to these same traditions. In London, in St. +Petersburg, in Vienna, as well as in the length and breadth of the +United States, she gained a recognition and an appreciation in opera, +oratorio, and concert, second to none: and when, later, she organised an +English Opera Company and successfully piloted it on a course of +unprecedented popularity, her personal laurels were equally supreme. + +In 1887, Miss Kellogg married Carl Strakosch, who had for some time been +her manager. Mr. Strakosch is the nephew of the two well-known +impresarios, Maurice and Max Strakosch. After her marriage, the public +career of Clara Louise Kellogg virtually ended. The Strakosch home is in +New Hartford, Connecticut, and Mrs. Strakosch gave to it the name of +"Elpstone" because of a large rock shaped like an elephant that is the +most conspicuous feature as one enters the grounds through the +poplar-guarded gate. Mr. and Mrs. Strakosch are very fond of their New +Hartford home, but, the Litchfield County climate in winter being +severe, they usually spend their winters in Rome. They have also +travelled largely in Oriental countries. + +In 1912, Mr. and Mrs. Strakosch celebrated their Silver Wedding at +Elpstone. On this occasion, the whole village of New Hartford was given +up to festivities, and friends came from miles away to offer their +congratulations. Perhaps the most pleasant incident of the celebration +was the presentation of a silver loving cup to Mr. and Mrs. Strakosch by +the people of New Hartford in token of the affectionate esteem in which +they are both held. + +The woman, Clara Louise Kellogg, is quite as distinct a personality as +was the _prima donna_. So thoroughly, indeed, so fundamentally, is she a +musician that her knowledge of life itself is as much a matter of +harmony as is her music. She lives her melody; applying the basic +principle that Carlyle has expressed so admirably when he says: "See +deeply enough and you see musically." + +ISABEL MOORE. + +WOODSTOCK, N. Y. +August, 1913 + + + + +CONTENTS + + +CHAPTER PAGE + + I. MY FIRST NOTES 1 + + II. GIRLHOOD 11 + + III. "LIKE A PICKED CHICKEN!" 22 + + IV. A YOUTHFUL REALIST 33 + + V. LITERARY BOSTON 43 + + VI. WAR TIMES 55 + + VII. STEPS OF THE LADDER 62 + +VIII. MARGUERITE 77 + + IX. OPERA COMIQUE 90 + + X. ANOTHER SEASON AND A LITTLE MORE SUCCESS 99 + + XI. THE END OF THE WAR 110 + + XII. AND SO--TO ENGLAND! 119 + +XIII. AT HER MAJESTY'S 129 + + XIV. ACROSS THE CHANNEL 139 + + XV. MY FIRST HOLIDAY ON THE CONTINENT 152 + + XVI. FELLOW-ARTISTS 163 + +XVII. THE ROYAL CONCERTS AT BUCKINGHAM PALACE 177 + + XVIII. THE LONDON SEASON 188 + + XIX. HOME AGAIN 200 + + XX. "YOUR SINCERE ADMIRER" 212 + + XXI. ON THE ROAD 227 + + XXII. LONDON AGAIN 235 + + XXIII. THE SEASON WITH LUCCA 245 + + XXIV. ENGLISH OPERA 254 + + XXV. ENGLISH OPERA--_Continued_ 266 + + XXVI. AMATEURS AND OTHERS 276 + + XXVII. "THE THREE GRACES" 289 + +XXVIII. ACROSS THE SEAS AGAIN 300 + + XXIX. TEACHING AND THE HALF-TALENTED 309 + + XXX. THE WANDERLUST, AND WHERE IT LED ME 324 + + XXXI. SAINT PETERSBURG 334 + + XXXII. GOOD-BYE TO RUSSIA--AND THEN? 346 + +XXXIII. THE LAST YEARS OF MY PROFESSIONAL CAREER 357 + + XXXIV. _CODA_ 370 + + + + +ILLUSTRATIONS + + + + PAGE + + CLARA LOUISE KELLOGG STRAKOSCH _Frontispiece_ + + LYDIA ATWOOD 2 + Maternal Grandmother of Clara Louise Kellogg + + CHARLES ATWOOD 4 + Maternal Grandfather of Clara Louise Kellogg + From a Daguerreotype + + GEORGE KELLOGG 10 + Father of Clara Louise Kellogg + From a photograph by Gurney & Son + + CLARA LOUISE KELLOGG, AGED THREE 12 + From a photograph by Black & Case + + CLARA LOUISE KELLOGG, AGED SEVEN 14 + From a photograph by Black & Case + + CLARA LOUISE KELLOGG AS A GIRL 20 + From a photograph by Sarony + + CLARA LOUISE KELLOGG AS A YOUNG LADY 28 + From a photograph by Black & Case + + BRIGNOLI, 1865 42 + From a photograph by C. Silvy + + JAMES RUSSELL LOWELL, IN 1861 46 + From a photograph by Brady + + CHARLOTTE CUSHMAN, 1861 52 + From a photograph by Silabee, Case & Co. + + CLARA LOUISE KELLOGG AS FIGLIA 56 + From a photograph by Black & Case + + GENERAL HORACE PORTER 58 + From a photograph by Pach Bros. + + MUZIO 66 + From a photograph by Gurney & Son + + CLARA LOUISE KELLOGG AS LUCIA 72 + From a photograph by Elliott & Fry + + CLARA LOUISE KELLOGG AS MARTHA 74 + From a photograph by Turner + + CLARA LOUISE KELLOGG AS MARGUERITE, 1865 82 + From a photograph by Sarony + + CLARA LOUISE KELLOGG AS MARGUERITE, 1864 88 + From a silhouette by Ida Waugh + + GOTTSCHALK 106 + From a photograph by Case & Getchell + + JANE ELIZABETH CROSBY 108 + Mother of Clara Louise Kellogg + From a tintype + + GENERAL WILLIAM TECUMSEH SHERMAN, 1877 116 + From a photograph by Mora + + HENRY G. STEBBINS 122 + From a photograph by Grillet & Co. + + ADELINA PATTI 130 + From a photograph by Fredericks + + CLARA LOUISE KELLOGG AS LINDA, 1868 134 + From a photograph by Stereoscopic Co. + + MR. JAMES MCHENRY 138 + From a photograph by Brady + + CHRISTINE NILSSON, AS QUEEN OF THE NIGHT 146 + From a photograph by Pierre Petit + + DUKE OF NEWCASTLE 188 + From a photograph by John Burton & Sons + + CLARA LOUISE KELLOGG AS CARMEN 230 + From a photograph + + SIR HENRY IRVING AND ELLEN TERRY AS THE VICAR + AND OLIVIA 234 + From a photograph by Window & Grove + + FIRST EDITION OF THE "FAUST" SCORE, PUBLISHED + IN 1859 BY CHOUSENS OF PARIS, NOW IN THE + BOSTON PUBLIC LIBRARY 240 + + NEWSPAPER PRINT OF THE KELLOGG-LUCCA SEASON 250 + Drawn by Jos. Keppler + + CLARA LOUISE KELLOGG IN _MIGNON_ 252 + From a photograph by Mora + + ELLEN TERRY 284 + From a photograph by Sarony + + COLONEL HENRY MAPLESON 290 + From a photograph by Downey + + CLARA LOUISE KELLOGG AS AIDA 292 + From a photograph by Mora + + FAUST BROOCH PRESENTED TO CLARA LOUISE + KELLOGG 298 + + CARL STRAKOSCH 364 + From a photograph by H. W. Barnett + + LETTER FROM EDWIN BOOTH TO CLARA LOUISE + KELLOGG 366 + + "ELPSTONE," NEW HARTFORD, CONNECTICUT 370 + + + + + +Memoirs of An American Prima Donna + + + + +CHAPTER I + +MY FIRST NOTES + + +I was born in Sumterville, South Carolina, and had a negro mammy to take +care of me, one of the real old-fashioned kind, of a type now almost +gone. She used to hold me in her arms and rock me back and forth, and as +she rocked she sang. I don't know the name of the song she crooned; but +I still know the melody, and have an impression that the words were: + + "Hey, Jim along,--Jim along Josy; + Hey, Jim along,--Jim along Joe!" + +She used to sing these two lines over and over, so that I slept and +waked to them. And my first musical efforts, when I was just ten months +old, were to try to sing this ditty in imitation of my negro mammy. + +When my mother first heard me she became apprehensive. Yet I kept at it; +and by the time I was a year old I could sing it so that it was quite +recognisable. I do not remember this period, of course, but my mother +often told me about it later, and I am sure she was not telling a fairy +story. + +There is, after all, nothing incredible or miraculous about the fact, +extraordinary as it certainly is. We are not surprised when the young +thrush practises a trill. And in some people the need for music and the +power to make it are just as instinctive as they are in the birds. What +effects I have achieved and what success I have found must be laid to +this big, living fact: music was in me, and it had to find expression. + +My music was honestly come by, from both sides of the house. When the +family moved north to New England and settled in Birmingham, +Connecticut,--it is called Derby now--my father and mother played in the +little town choir, he a flute and she the organ. They were both +thoroughly musical people, and always kept up with musical affairs, +making a great many sacrifices all their lives to hear good singers +whenever any sort of opportunity offered. As for my maternal +grandmother--she was a woman with a man's brain. A widow at +twenty-three, with no money and three children, she chose, of all ways +to support them, the business of cotton weaving; going about Connecticut +and Massachusetts, setting up looms--cotton gins they were called--and +being very successful. She was a good musician also, and, in later +years, after she had married my grandfather and was comfortably off, +people begged her to give lessons; so she taught _thorough-base_, in +that day and generation! Pause for a moment to consider what that meant, +in a time when the activity of women was very limited and unrecognised. +Is it any wonder that the granddaughter of a woman who could master and +teach the science of _thorough-base_ at such a period should be born +with music in her blood? + +[Illustration: =Lydia Atwood= + +Maternal Grandmother of Clara Louise Kellogg] + +My other grandmother, my father's mother, was musical, too. She had a +sweet voice, and was the soprano of the church choir. + +Everyone knew I was naturally musical from my constant attempts to sing, +and from my deep attention when anyone performed on any instrument, even +when I was so little that I could not reach the key-board of the piano +on tip-toe. That particular piano, I remember, was very +old-fashioned--one of the square box-shaped sort--and stood extremely +high. + +One day my grandmother said to my mother: + +"I do believe, Jane, if we lifted that baby up to the piano, she could +play!" + +Mother said: "Oh, pshaw!" + +But they did lift me up, and I did play. I played not only with my right +hand but also with my left hand; and I made harmonies. Probably they +were not in any way elaborate chords, but they _were_ chords, and they +harmonised. I have known some grown-up musicians whose chords didn't! + +I was three then, and a persistent baby, already detesting failure. I +never liked to try to do anything, even at that age, in which I might be +unsuccessful, and so learned to do what I wanted to do as soon as +possible. + +My mother was gifted in many ways. She used to paint charmingly; and has +told me that when she was a young girl and could not get paint brushes, +she made her own of hairs pulled from their old horse's tail. + +My maternal grandfather was not at all musical. He used to say that to +him the sweetest note on the piano was when the cover went down! Yet it +was he who accidentally discovered a fortunate possession of +mine--something that has remained in my keeping ever since, and, like +many fortunate gifts, has at times troubled as much as it has consoled +me. + +One day he was standing by the piano in one room and I was playing on +the floor in another. He idly struck a note and asked my mother: + +"What note is that I am striking? Guess!" + +"How can I tell?" said my mother. "No one could tell that." + +"Why, mother!" I cried from the next room, "don't you know what note +that is?" + +"I do not," said my mother, "and neither do you." + +"I do, too," I declared. "It's the first of the three black keys going +up!" + +It was, in fact, F sharp, and in this manner it was discovered that I +had what we musicians call "absolute pitch"; the ability to place and +name a note the moment it is heard. As I have said, this has often +proved to be a very trying gift, for it is, and always has been +impossible for me to decipher a song in a different key from that in +which it is written. If it is written in C, I hear it in C; and conceive +the hideous discord in my brain while the orchestra or the pianist +renders it in D flat! When I see a "Do," I want to sing it as a "Do," +and not as a "Re." + +This episode must have been when I was about five years old, and soon +afterward I began taking regular piano lessons. I remember my teacher +quite well. He used to come out from New Haven by the Naugatuck +railway--that had just been completed and was a great curiosity--for the +purpose of instructing a class of which I was a member. + +[Illustration: =Charles Atwood= + +Maternal Grandfather of Clara Louise Kellogg + +From a daguerreotype] + +I had the most absurd difficulty in learning my notes. I could play +anything by ear, but to read a piece of music and find the notes on +the piano was another matter. My teacher struggled with this odd +incapacity; but I used to cheat him shockingly. + +"_Do_ play this for me!" I would beg. "Just once, so I can tell how it +goes." + +In spite of this early slowness in music reading, or, perhaps because of +it, when I _did_ learn to read, I learned to read thoroughly. I could +really play; and I cannot over-estimate the help this has been to me all +my life. It is so essential--and so rare--for a _prima donna_ to be not +only a fine singer but also a good musician. + +There was then no idea of my becoming a singer. All my time was given to +the piano and to perfecting myself in playing it. But my parents made +every effort to have me hear fine singing, for the better cultivation of +my musical taste, and I am grateful to them for doing so, as I believe +that singing is largely imitative and that, while singers need not begin +to train their voices very early, they should as soon as possible +familiarise themselves with good singing and with good music generally. +The wise artist learns from many sources, some of them quite unexpected +ones. Patti once told me that she had caught the trick of her best +"turn" from listening to Faure, the baritone. + +My father and mother went to New York during the Jenny Lind _furore_ and +carried me in their arms to hear her big concert. I remember it clearly, +and just the way in which she tripped on to the stage that night with +her hair, as she always wore it, drawn down close over her ears--a +custom that gave rise to the popular report that she had no ears. + +That concert is my first musical recollection. I was much amused by the +baritone who sang _Figaro la Figaro qua_ from _The Barber_. I thought +him and his song immensely funny; and everyone around us was in a great +state over me because I insisted that the drum was out of tune. I was +really dreadfully annoyed by that drum, for it _was_ out of tune! I +remember Jenny Lind sang: + + "Birdling, why sing'st thou in the forest wild? + Say why,--say why,--say why!" + +and one part of it sounded exactly like the call of a bird. Sir Jules +Benedict, who was always her accompanist, once told me many years later +in London that she had a "hole" in her voice. He said that he had been +obliged to play her accompaniments in such a way as to cover up certain +notes in her middle register. A curious admission to come from him, I +thought, for few people knew of the "hole." + +Only once during my childhood did I sing in public, and that was in a +little school concert, a song _Come Buy My Flowers_, dressed up daintily +for the part and carrying a small basketful of posies of all kinds. When +I had finished singing, a man in the audience stepped down to the +footlights and held up a five-dollar bill. + +"To buy your flowers!" said he. + +That might be called my first professional performance! The local paper +said I had talent. As a matter of fact, I don't remember much about the +occasion; but I do remember only too well a dreadful incident that +occurred immediately afterward between me and the editor of the +aforesaid local paper,--Mr. Newson by name. + +I had a pet kitten, and it went to sleep in a rolled up rug beside the +kitchen door one day, and the cook stepped on it. The kitten was +killed, of course, and the affair nearly killed me. I was crying my eyes +out over my poor little pet when that editor chanced along. And he made +fun of me! + +I turned on him in the wildest fury. I really would have killed him if I +could. + +"Laugh, will you!" I shrieked, beside myself. "Laugh! laugh! laugh!" + +He said afterwards that I absolutely frightened him, I was so small and +so tragic. + +"I knew then," he declared, "that that child had great emotional and +dramatic possibilities in her. Why, she nearly burned me up!" + +Years later, when I was singing in St. Paul, the _Dispatch_ printed this +story in an interview with Mr. Newson himself. He made a heartless jest +of the alliteration--"Kellogg's Kitten Killed"--and referred to my +"inexpressible expression of sorrow and disgust" as I cried, "Laugh, +will you!" Said Mr. Newson in summing up: + +"It was a real tragedic act!" + +Mr. Newson's description of me as a child is: "A black-eyed little girl, +somewhat wayward--as she was an only child--kind-hearted, affectionate, +self-reliant, and very independent!" + +Well--sight-reading became so easy to me, presently, that I could not +realise any difficulty about it. To see a note was to be able to sing +it; and I was often puzzled when people expressed surprise at my +ability. When I was about eleven, someone took me to Hartford to "show +me off" to William Babcock, a teacher and a thorough musician. He got +out some of his most difficult German songs; songs far more intricate +than anything I had ever before seen, of course, and was frankly amazed +to find that I read them just about as readily as the simple airs to +which I was accustomed. + +My childhood was very quiet and peaceful, rather commonplace in fact, +except for music. Reading was a pleasure, too, and, as my father was a +student and had a wonderful library, I had all the books I wanted. I was +literally brought up on Carlyle and Chaucer. I must have been a rather +queer child, in some ways. Even as a little thing I liked clothes. When +only nine years old I conceived a wild desire for a pair of kid gloves. +Kid gloves were a sign of great elegance in those days. At last my +clamours were successful and I was given a pair at Christmas. They were +a source of great pride, and I wore them to church, where I did my +little singing in the choir with the others. By this time I could read +any music at sight and would sit up and chirp and peep away quite +happily. As I spread my kid-gloved hands out most conspicuously, what I +had not noticed became very noticeable to everyone else: the fingers +were nearly two inches too long. And the choir laughed at me. I was +dreadfully mortified and sat there crying, until the kind contralto +comforted me. + +In my young days the negro minstrels were a great diversion. They were +amusing because they were so typical. There are none left, but in the +old times they were delightful, and it is a thousand pities that they +have passed away. All the essence of slavery, and the efforts of the +slaves to amuse themselves, were in their quaint performances. The banjo +was almost unknown to us in the North, and when it found its way to New +England it was a genuine novelty. I was simply fascinated by it as a +little girl and used to go to all the minstrel shows, and sit and watch +the men play. Their banjos had five strings only and were played with +the back of the nail,--not like a guitar. This was the only way to get +the real negro twang. There was no refinement about such playing, but I +loved it. I said: + +"I believe I could play that if I had one!" + +My father, the dignified scholar, was horrified. + +"When a banjo comes in, I go out," said he. + +At last a friend gave me one, and I watched and studied the darkies +until I had picked up the trick of playing it, and soon acquired a real +negro touch. And I also acquired some genuine darky songs. One, of which +I was particularly fond, was called: _Hottes' co'n y' ever eat_. + +I really believe I was the first American girl who ever played a banjo! +In a few years along came Lotta, and made the banjo a great feature. + +Banjo music has natural syncopation, and its peculiarities undoubtedly +originated the "rag-time" of our present-day imitations. There was one +song that I learned from hearing a man sing it who had, in turn, caught +it from a darky, that has never to my knowledge been published and is +not to be found in any collection. + +It began: + +[Illustration: Musical notation; It'll set this dar-key cra-zy. I don't +know what I'll do,] + +and remains with me in my _repertoire_ unto this day. I have been known +to sing it with certain effect--for when I am asked, now, to sing it, my +husband leaves the room! The last time I sang it was only a couple of +years ago in Norfolk. Herbert Witherspoon said: + +"Listen to that high C!" + +"Ah," said I, "that is the last remnant--the very last!" + +But this chapter is to be about my first notes, not my last ones. + +In 1857, my father failed, the beautiful books were sold and we went to +New York to live. Almost directly afterward occurred one of the most +important events of my career. Although I was not being trained for a +singer, but as a musician in general, I could no more help singing than +I could held breathing, or sleeping, or eating; and, one day, Colonel +Henry G. Stebbins, a well-known musical amateur, one of the directors of +the Academy of Music, was calling on my father and heard me singing to +myself in an adjoining room. Then and there he asked to be allowed to +have my voice cultivated; and so, when I was fourteen, I began to study +singing. The succeeding four years were the hardest worked years of my +life. + +To young girls who are contemplating vocal study, I always say that it +is mostly a question of what one is willing to give up. + +If you really are prepared to sacrifice all the fun that your youth is +entitled to; to work, and to deny yourself; to eat and sleep, not +because you are hungry or sleepy, but because your strength must be +conserved for your art; to make your music the whole interest of your +existence;--if you are willing to do all this, you may have your reward. + +But music will have no half service. It has to be all or nothing. + +In Rostand's play, they ask Chanticleer: + +"What is your life?" + +And he answers: + +"My song." + +"What is your song?" + +"My life." + +[Illustration: =George Kellogg= + +Father of Clara Louise Kellogg + +Photograph by Gurney & Son] + + + + +CHAPTER II + +GIRLHOOD + + +In taking up vocal study, however, I had no fixed intention of going on +the stage. All I decided was to make as much as I could of myself and of +my voice. Many girls I knew studied singing merely as an accomplishment. +In fact, the girl who aspired professionally was almost unknown. + +I first studied under a Frenchman named Millet, a graduate of the +Conservatory of Paris, who was teaching the daughters of Colonel +Stebbins and, also, the daughter of the Baron de Trobriand. Later, I +worked with Manzocchi, Rivarde, Errani and Muzio, who was a great friend +of Verdi. + +Most of my fellow-students were charming society girls. Ella Porter and +President Arthur's wife were with me under Rivarde, and Anna Palmer who +married the scientist, Dr. Draper. The idea of my going on the stage +would have appalled the families of these girls. In those days the life +of the theatre was regarded as altogether outside the pale. One didn't +know stage people; one couldn't speak to them, nor shake hands with +them, nor even look at them except from a safe distance across the +footlights. There were no "decent people on the stage"; how often did I +hear that foolish thing said! + +It is odd that in that most musical and artistic country, Italy, much +the same prejudice exists to this day. I should never think of telling a +really great Italian lady that I had been on the stage; she would +immediately think that there was something queer about me. Of course in +America all that was changed some time ago, after England had +established the precedent. People are now pleased not only to meet +artists socially, but to lionise them as well. But when I was a girl +there was a gulf as deep as the Bottomless Pit between society and +people of the theatre; and it was this gulf that I knew would open +between myself and the friends of whom I was really fond as, in time, I +realised that I was improving sufficiently to justify some definite +ambitions. My work was steady and unremitting, and by the time I began +study with Muzio my mind was pretty nearly made up. + +A queer, nervous, brusque, red-headed man was Muzio, from the north of +Italy, where the type always seems so curiously German. Besides being +one of the conductors of the Opera, he organised concert tours, and +promised to see that I should have my chance. It was said that he had +fled from political disturbances in Italy, but this I never heard +verified. Certainly he was quite a big man in the New York operatic +world of his day, and was a most cultivated musician, with the "Italian +traditions" of opera at his fingers' ends. It is to Muzio, incidentally, +that I owe my trill. + +[Illustration: =Clara Louise Kellogg. Aged Three= + +From a photograph by Black & Case] + +Oddly enough, I had great difficulty with that trill for three years; +but in four weeks' study he taught me the trick,--for it is a trick, +like so many other big effects. I believe I got it finally by using my +sub-conscious mind. Don't you know how, after striving and straining +for something, you at last relax and let some inner part of your brain +carry on the battle? And how, often and often, it is then that victory +comes? So it was with my trill; and so it has been with many difficult +things that I have succeeded in since then. + +No account of my education would be complete without a mention of the +great singers whom I heard during that receptive period; that is, the +years between fourteen and eighteen, before my professional _debut_. The +first artist I heard when I was old enough really to appreciate good +singing was Louisa Pine, who sang in New York in second-rate English +Opera with Harrison, of whom she was deeply enamoured and who usually +sang out of tune. We did not then fully understand how well-schooled and +well-trained she was; and her really fine qualities were only revealed +to me much later in a concert. + +Then there was D'Angri, a contralto who sang Rossini to perfection. +_Italiani in Algeria_ was produced especially for her. About that same +time Mme. de la Grange was appearing, together with Mme. de la Borde, a +light and colorature soprano, something very new in America. Mme. de la +Borde sang the Queen to Mme. de la Grange's Valentine in _Les +Huguenots_, and had a French voice--if I may so express it--light, and +of a strange quality. The French claimed that she sang a scale of +_commas_, that is, a note between each of our chromatic intervals. She +may have; but it merely sounded to the listener as if she wasn't singing +the scale clearly. Mme. de la Grange was a sort of goddess to me, I +remember. I heard her first in _Trovatore_ with Brignoli and Amodio. + +Piccolomini arrived here a couple of years later and I heard her, too. +She was of a distinguished Italian family, and, considering Italy's +aristocratic prejudices, it is strange that she should have been an +opera singer. She made _Traviata_, in which she had already captured the +British public, first known to us: yet she was an indifferent singer and +had a very limited _repertoire_. She received her adulation partly +because people didn't know much then about music. Adulation it was, too. +She made $5000 a month, and America had never before imagined such an +operatic salary. She looked a little like Lucca; was small and dark, and +decidedly clever in comedy. I was fortunate enough to see her in +Pergolese's delightful, if archaic, opera, _La Serva Padrona_--"The Maid +as Mistress"--and she proved herself to be an exceptional _comedienne_. +She was excellent in tragedy, too. + +Brignoli was the first great tenor I ever heard; and Amodio the first +famous baritone. Brignoli--but all the world knows what Brignoli was! As +for Amodio; he had a great and beautiful voice; but, poor man, what a +disadvantage he suffered under in his appearance. He was so fat that he +was grotesque, he was absurdly short, and had absolutely no saving grace +as to physique. He played Mazetto to Piccolomini's Zerlina, and the +whole house roared when they came on dancing. + +I heard nearly all the great singers of my youth; all that were to be +heard in New York, at any rate, except Grisi. I missed Grisi, I am sorry +to say, because on the one occasion when I was asked to hear her sing, +with Mario, I chose to go to a children's party instead. I am much +ashamed of this levity, although I was, to be sure, only ten years old +at the time. + +[Illustration: =Clara Louise Kellogg. Aged Seven= + +Photograph by Black & Case] + +Adelina Patti I heard the year before my own _debut_. She was a slip of +a girl then, when she appeared over here in _Lucia_, and carried the +town by storm. What a voice! I had never dreamed of anything like it. +But, for that matter, neither had anyone else. + +What histrionic skill I ever developed I attribute to the splendid +acting that I saw so constantly during my girlhood. And what actors and +actresses we had! As I look back, I wonder if we half appreciated them. +It is certainly true that, viewed comparatively, we must cry "there were +giants in those days!" Think of Mrs. John Wood and Jefferson at the +Winter Garden; of Dion Boucicault and his wife, Agnes Robertson; of +Laura Keene--a revelation to us all--and of the French Theatre, which +was but a little hole in the wall, but the home of some exquisite art (I +was brought up on the Raouls in French pantomime); and all the wonderful +old Wallack Stock Company! Think of the elder Sothern, and of John +Brougham, and of Charles Walcot, and of Mrs. John Hoey, Mrs. Vernon, and +Mary Gannon,--that most beautiful and perfect of all _ingenues_! Those +people would be world-famous stars if they were playing to-day; we have +no actors or companies like them left. Not even the Comedie Francaise +ever had such a gathering. + +It may be imagined what an education it was for a young girl with stage +aspirations to see such work week after week. For I was taken to see +everyone in everything, and some of the impressions I received then were +permanent. For instance, Matilda Heron in _Camille_ gave me a picture of +poor Marguerite Gautier so deep and so vivid that I found it invaluable, +years later, when I myself came to play Violetta in _Traviata_. + +I saw both Ristori and Rachel too. The latter I heard recite on her last +appearance in America. It was the _Marseillaise_, and deeply impressive. +Personally, I loved best her _Moineau de Lesbie_. Shall I ever forget +her enchanting reading of the little scene with the jewels?--_Suis-je +belle?_ + +The father of one of my fellow students was, as I have said before, +Baron de Trobriand, a very charming man of the old French aristocracy. +He came often to the home of Colonel Stebbins and always showed a great +deal of interest in my development. He knew Rachel very well; had known +her ever since her girlhood indeed, and always declared that I was the +image of her. As I look at my early portraits, I can see it myself a +little. In all of them I have a desperately serious expression as though +life were a tragedy. How well I remember the Baron and his wonderful +stories of France! He had some illustrious kindred, among them the +Duchesse de Berri, and we were never tired of his tales concerning her. + +I find, to-day, as I look through some of my old press notices, that +nice things were always said of me as an actress. Once, John Wallack, +Lester's father, came to hear me in _Fra Diavolo_, and exclaimed: + +"I wish to God that girl would lose her voice!" + +He wanted me to give up singing and go on the dramatic stage; and so did +Edwin Booth. I have a letter from Edwin Booth that I am more proud of +than almost anything I possess. But these incidents happened, of course, +later. + +From all I saw and all I heard I tried to learn and to keep on learning. +And so I prepared for the time of my own initial bow before the public. +As I gradually studied and developed, I began to feel more and more +sure that I was destined to be a singer. I felt that it was my life and +my heritage; that I was made for it, and that nothing else could ever +satisfy me. And Muzio told me that I was right. In another six months I +would be ready to make my _debut_. It was a serious time, when I faced +the future as a public singer, but I was very happy in the contemplation +of it. + +That summer I took a rest, preparatory to my first season,--how +thrillingly professional that sounded, to be sure!--and it was during +that summer that I had one of the most pleasant experiences of my +girlhood,--one really delightful and _young_ experience, such as other +girls have,--a wonderful change from the hard-working, serious months of +study. I went to West Point for a visit. In spite of my sober +bringing-up, I was full of the joy of life, and loved the days spent in +a place filled with the military glamour that every girl adores. + +West Point was more primitive then than it is now. But it was just as +much fun. I danced, and watched the drill, and walked about, and made +friends with the cadets,--to whom the fact that they were entertaining a +budding _prima donna_ was both exciting and interesting--and had about +the best time I ever had in my life. + +Looking back now, however, I can feel a shadow of sadness lying over the +memory of all that happy visit. We were just on the eve of war, little +as we young people thought of it, and many of the merry, good-looking +boys I danced with that summer fell at the front within the year. Some +of them entered the Union Army the following spring when war was +declared, and some went South to serve under the Stars and Bars. Among +the former was Alec McCook--"Fighting McCook," as he was called. +Lieutenant McCreary was Southern, and was killed early in the war. So, +also, was the son of General Huger--the General Huger who was then +Postmaster General and later became a member of the Cabinet of the +Confederacy. + +It is interesting to consider that West Point, at the time of which I +write, was a veritable hotbed of conspiracy. The Southerners were +preparing hard and fast for action; the atmosphere teemed with plotting, +so that even I was vaguely conscious that something exceedingly serious +was going on. The Commandant of the Post, General Delafield, was an +officer of strong Southern sympathies and later went to fight in Dixie +land. When the war did finally break out, nearly all the ammunition was +down South; and this had been managed from West Point. + +Of course, all was done with great circumspection. Buchanan was a +Democratic president; and the Democrats of the South sent a delegation +to West Point to try to get the commanding officers to use their +influence in reducing the military course from four to three years. This +at least was their ostensible mission, and it made an excellent excuse +as well as offered great opportunities for what we Federal sympathisers +would call treason, but which they probably considered was justified by +patriotism. Indeed, James Buchanan was allotted a very difficult part in +the political affairs of the day; and the censure he received for what +is called his "vacillation" was somewhat unjust. He held that the +question of slavery and its abolition was not a national, but a local +problem; and he never took any firm stand about it. But the conditions +were bewilderingly new and complex, and statesmen often suffer from +their very ability to look on both sides of a question. + +Jefferson Davis was then at West Point; and, as for "Mrs. Jeff"--I +always believed she was a spy. She had her niece and son with her at the +Point, the latter, "Jeff, Jr.," then a child of five or six years old. +He had the worst temper I ever imagined in a boy; and I am ashamed to +relate that the officers took a wicked delight in arousing and +exhibiting it. He used to sit several steps up on the one narrow +stairway of the hotel and swear the most horrible, hot oaths ever heard, +getting red in the face with fury. Alec McCook, assistant instructor and +a charming fellow of about thirty, would put him on a bucking donkey +that was there and say: + +"Now then, lad, don't you let him put you off!" + +And the "lad" would sit on the donkey, turning the air blue with +profanity. But one thing can be said for him: he did stick on! + +Lieutenant Horace Porter, who was among my friends of that early summer, +was destined to serve with distinction on the Northern side. I met him +not long ago, a dignified, distinguished General; and it was difficult +to see in him the high-spirited, young lieutenant of the old Point days. + +"Do you know," he said, "Mrs. Jeff Davis sent for me to come and see her +when she was in New York! _Of course_ I didn't go!" + +He had not forgotten. One does not forget the things that happened just +before the war. The great struggle burned them too deeply into our +memories. + +Nothing would satisfy the cadets, who were aware that I was preparing to +go on the stage as a professional singer, but that I should sing for +them. I was only too delighted to do so, but I didn't want to sing in +the hotel. So they turned their "hop-room" into a concert-hall for the +occasion and invited the officers and their friends, in spite of Mrs. +Jeff Davis, who tried her best to prevent the ball-room from being given +to us for our musicale. She did not attend; but the affair made her +exceedingly uncomfortable, for she disliked me and was jealous of the +kindness and attention I received from everyone. She always referred to +me as "that singing girl!" + +As I have said, many of those attractive West Point boys and officers +were killed in the war so soon to break upon us. Others, like General +Porter, have remained my friends. A few I have kept in touch with only +by hearsay. But throughout the Civil War I always felt a keener and more +personal interest in the battles because, for a brief space, I had come +so close to the men who were engaged in them; and the sentiment never +passed. + +Ever and ever so many years after that visit to West Point, a note came +behind the scenes to me during one of my performances, and with it was a +mass of exquisite flowers. "Please wear one of these flowers to-night!" +the note begged me. It was from one of the cadets to whom I had sung so +long before, but whom I had never seen since. + +I wore the flower: and I put my whole soul into my singing that night. +For that little episode of my girlhood, the meeting with those eager and +plucky young spirits just before our great national crisis, has always +been close to my heart. As for the three dark years that followed--ah, +well,--I never want to read about the war now. + +[Illustration: =Clara Louise Kellogg as a Girl= + +From a photograph by Sarony] + +It was almost time for my _debut_, and there was still something I had +to do. To my sheltered, puritanically brought up consciousness, there +could be no two views among conventional people as to the life I was +about to enter upon. I knew all about it. So, a few weeks before I was +to make my professional bow to the public, I called my girl friends +together, the companions of four years' study, and I said to them: + +"Girls, I've made up my mind to go on the stage! I know just how your +people feel about it, and I want to tell you now that you needn't know +me any more. You needn't speak to me, nor bow to me if you meet me in +the street. I shall quite understand, and I shan't feel a bit badly. +_Because I think the day will come when you will be proud to know me!_" + + + + +CHAPTER III + +"LIKE A PICKED CHICKEN" + + +Before my _debut_ in opera, Muzio took me out on a concert tour for a +few weeks. Colson was the _prima donna_, Brignoli the tenor, Ferri the +baritone, and Susini the basso. Susini had, I believe, distinguished +himself in the Italian Revolution. His name means _plums_ in Italian, +and his voice as well as his name was rich and luscious. + +I was a general utility member of the company, and sang to fill in the +chinks. We sang four times a week, and I received twenty-five dollars +each time--that is, one hundred dollars a week--not bad for +inexperienced seventeen, although Muzio regarded the tour for me as +merely educational and part of my training. + +My mother travelled with me, for she never let me out of her sight. Yet, +even with her along, the experience was very strange and new and rather +terrifying. I had no knowledge of stage life, and that first _tournee_ +was comprised of a series of shocks and surprises, most of them +disillusioning. + +We opened in Pittsburg, and it was there, at the old Monongahela House, +that I had my first exhibition of Italian temperament, or, rather, +temper! + +When we arrived, we found that the dining-room was officially closed. We +were tired out after a long hard trip of twenty-four hours, and, of +course, almost starved. We got as far as the door, where we could look +in hungrily, but it was empty and dark. There were no waiters; there was +nothing, indeed, except the rows of neatly set tables for the next meal. + +Brignoli demanded food. He was very fond of eating, I recall. And, in +those days, he was a sort of little god in New York, where he lived in +much luxury. When affairs went well with him, he was not an unamiable +man; but he was a selfish egotist, with the devil's own temper on +occasion. + +The landlord approached and told us that the dinner hour was past, and +that we could not get anything to eat until the next meal, which would +be supper. And oh! if you only knew what supper was like in the +provincial hotel of that day! + +Brignoli was wild with wrath. He would start to storm and shout in his +rage, and would then suddenly remember his voice and subside, only to +begin again as his anger rose in spite of himself. It was really +amusing, though I doubt if anyone appreciated the joke at the moment. + +At last, as the landlord remained quite unmoved, Brignoli dashed into +the room, grabbed the cloth on one of the tables near the door and +pulled it off--dishes, silver, and all! The crash was terrific, and +naturally the china was smashed to bits. + +"You'll have to pay for that!" cried the landlord, indignantly. + +"Pay for it!" gasped Brignoli, waving his arms and fairly dancing with +rage, "of course I'll pay for it--just as I'll pay for the dinner, +if----" + +"What!" exclaimed the landlord, in a new tone, "you will pay _extra_ for +the dinner, if we are willing to serve it for you now?" + +"_Dio mio_, yes!" cried Brignoli. + +The landlord stood and gaped at him. + +"Why didn't you say so in the first place?" he asked with a sort of +contemptuous pity, and went off to order the dinner. + +When will the American and the Italian temperaments begin to understand +each other! + +Brignoli was not only a fine singer but a really good musician. He told +me that he had given piano lessons in Paris before he began to sing at +all. But of his absolute origin he would never speak. He was a handsome +man, with ears that had been pierced for ear-rings. This led me to infer +that he had at some time been a sailor, although he would never let +anyone mention the subject. Anyhow, I always thought of Naples when I +looked at him. + +Most stage people have their pet superstitions. There seems to be +something in their make-up that lends itself to an interest in signs. +But Brignoli had a greater number of singular ones than any person I +ever met. He had, among other things, a mascot that he carried all over +the country. This was a stuffed deer's head, and it was always installed +in his dressing-room wherever he might be singing. When he sang well, he +would come back to the room and pat the deer's head approvingly. When he +was not in voice, he would pound it and swear at it in Italian. + +Brignoli lived for his voice. He adored it as if it were some phenomenon +for which he was in no sense responsible. And I am not at all sure that +this is not the right point of view for a singer. He always took +tremendous pains with his voice and the greatest possible care of +himself in every way, always eating huge quantities of raw oysters each +night before he sang. The story is told of him that one day he fell off +a train. People rushed to pick him up, solicitous lest the great tenor's +bones were broken. But Brignoli had only one fear. Without waiting even +to rise to his feet, he sat up, on the ground where he had fallen, and +solemnly sang a bar or two. Finding his voice uninjured, he burst into +heartfelt prayers of thanks-giving, and climbed back into the car. + +Brignoli only just missed being very great. But he had the indolence of +the Neapolitan sailor, and he was, of course, sadly spoiled. Women were +always crazy about him, and he posed as an _elegante_. Years afterward, +when I heard of his death, I never felt the loss of any beautiful thing +as I did the loss of his voice. The thought came to me:--"and he hasn't +been able to leave it to anyone as a legacy--" + +But to return to our concert tour. + +I remember that the concert room in Pittsburg was over the town market. +That was what we had to contend with in those primitive days! Imagine +our little company of devoted and ambitious artists trying to create a +musical atmosphere one flight up, while they sold cabbages and fish +downstairs! + +The first evening was an important event for me, my initial public +appearance, and I recall quite distinctly that I sang the Cavatina from +_Linda di Chamounix_--which I was soon to sing operatically--and that I +wore a green dress. Green was an unusual colour in gowns then. Our young +singers generally chose white or blue or pink or something insipid; but +I had a very definite taste in clothes, and liked effects that were not +only pretty but also individual and becoming. + +Speaking of clothes, I learned on that first experimental tour the +horrors of travel when it comes to keeping one's gowns fresh. I speedily +acquired the habit, practised ever since, of carrying a big crash cloth +about with me to spread on stages where I was to sing. This was not +entirely to keep my clothes clean, important as that was. It was also +for the sake of my voice and its effect. Few people know that the +floor-covering on which a singer stands makes a very great difference. +On carpets, for instance, one simply cannot get a good tone. + +Just before I went on for that first concert, Madame Colson stopped me +to put a rose in my hair, and said to me: + +"Smile much, and show your teeth!" + +After the concert she supplemented this counsel with the words: + +"Always dress your best, and always smile, and always be gracious!" + +I never forgot the advice. + +The idea of pretty clothes and a pretty smile is not merely a pose nor +an artificiality. It is likewise carrying out a spirit of courtesy. Just +as a hostess greets a guest cordially and tries to make her feel at +ease, so the tactful singer tries to show the people who have come to +hear her that she is glad to see them. + +Pauline Colson was a charming artist, a French soprano of distinction in +her own country and always delightful in her work. She had first come to +America to sing in the French Opera in New Orleans where, for many +years, there had been a splendid opera season each winter. She had just +finished her winter's work there when some northern impresario engaged +her for a brief season of opera in New York; and it was at the +termination of this that Muzio engaged her for our concert tour. She +was one of the few artists who rebelled against the bad costuming then +prevalent; and it was said that for more than one of her _roles_ she +made her gowns herself, to be sure that they were correct. It was her +example that fired me in the revolutionary steps I was to take later +with regard to my own costumes. + +Our next stop was Cincinnati--_Cincinnata_, as it was called! I had +there one of the shocks of my life. The leading newspaper of the city, +in commenting on our concert, said of me that "this young girl's parents +ought to remove her from public view, do her up in cotton wool, nourish +her well, and not allow her to appear again until she looks less like a +picked chicken"! + +No one said anything about my voice! Indeed, I got almost no +encouragement before we reached Detroit, and I recall that I cried a +good part of the way between the two cities over my failure in +Cincinnati. But in Detroit Colson was taken ill, so I had a chance to do +the _prima donna_ work of the occasion. And I profited by the chance, +for it was in Detroit that an audience first discovered that I had some +nascent ability. + +I _must_ have been an odd, young creature--just five feet and four +inches tall, and weighing only one hundred and four pounds. I was frail +and big-eyed, and wrapped up in music (not cotton wool), and exceedingly +childlike for my age. I knew nothing of life, for my puritanical +surroundings and the way in which I had been brought up were developing +my personality very slowly. + +That was a hard tour. Indeed, all tours were hard in those days. +Travelling accommodations were limited and uncomfortable, and most of +the hotels were very bad. Trains were slow, and connections uncertain, +and of course there was no such thing as a Pullman or, much less, a +dining-car. Sometimes we had to sit up all night and were not able to +get anything to eat, not infrequently arriving too late for the meal +hour of the hotel where we were to stop. The journeys were so long and +so difficult that they used to say Pauline Lucca always travelled in her +nightgown and a black velvet wrapper. + +All through that tour, as during every period of my life, I was working +and studying and practising and learning: trying to improve my voice, +trying to develop my artistic consciousness, trying to fit myself in a +hundred ways for my career. Work never frightened me; there was always +in me the desire to express myself--and to express that self as fully +and as variously as I might have opportunity for doing. + +It sometimes seems to me that one of the strangest things in this world +is the realisation that there is never time to perfect everything in us; +that we carry seeds in our souls that cannot flower in one short life. +Perhaps Paradise will be a place where we can develop every possibility +and become our complete selves. + +In one's brain and one's soul lies the power to do almost anything. I +believe that the psychological phenomena we hear so much about are +nothing but undiscovered forces in ourselves. I am not a spiritualist. I +do not care for so-called supernatural manifestations. Many of my +friends have been interested in such matters, and I was taken to the +celebrated "Stratford Knockings" and other mediumistic demonstrations +when I was a mere child; but it has never seemed to me that the marvels +I encountered came from an outside spiritual agency. I believe, +profoundly, that, one and all, they are the workings of forces in _us_ +that we have not yet learned to develop fully nor to use wisely. + +[Illustration: =Clara Louise Kellogg as a Young Lady= + +From a photograph by Black & Case] + +I never did anything in my life without study. The ancient axiom that +"what is worth doing at all is worth doing well" is more of a truth than +most people understand. The thing that one has chosen for one's life +work in the world:--what labour could be too great for it, or what too +minute? + +When I knew that I was to make my _debut_ as Gilda, in Verdi's opera of +_Rigoletto_, I settled down to put myself into that part. I studied for +nine months, until I was not certain whether I was really Gilda--or only +myself! + +I was taking lessons in acting with Scola then, in addition to my +musical study. And, besides Scola's regular course, I closely observed +the methods of individuals, actors, and singers. I remember seeing +Brignoli in _I Puritani_, during that "incubating period" before my +first appearance in opera. I was studying gesture then,--the free, +simple, _inevitable_ gesture that is so necessary to a natural effect in +dramatic singing; and during the beautiful melody, _A te, o cara_, which +he sang in the first act, Brignoli stood still in one spot and thrust +first one arm out, and then the other, at right angles from his body, +twenty-three consecutive times. I counted them, and I don't know how +many times he had done it before I began to count! + +"Heavens!" I said, "that's one thing not to do, anyway!" + +Languages were a very important part of my training. I had studied +French when I was nine years old, in the country, and as soon as I began +taking singing lessons I began Italian also. Much later, when I sang in +_Les Noces de Jeannette_, people would speak of my French and ask where +I had studied. But it was all learned at home. + +I never studied German. There was less demand for it in music than there +is now. America practically had no "German opera;" and Italian was the +accepted tongue of dramatic and tragic music, as French was the language +of lighter and more popular operas. Besides, German always confused me; +and I never liked it. + +Many years later than the time of which I am now writing, I was charmed +to be confirmed in my anti-German prejudices when I went to Paris. After +the Franco-Prussian War the signs and warnings in that city were put up +in every language in the world except German! The German way of putting +things was too long; and, furthermore, the French people didn't care if +Germans did break their legs or get run over. + +Of course, all this is changed--and in music most of all. For example, +there could be no greater convert to Wagnerism than I! + +My mother hated the atmosphere of the theatre even though she had wished +me to become a singer, and always gloried in my successes. To her rigid +and delicate instinct there was something dreadful in the free and easy +artistic attitude, and she always stood between me and any possible +intimacy with my fellow-singers. I believe this to have been a mistake. +Many traditions of the stage come to one naturally and easily through +others; but I had to wait and learn them all by experience. I was always +working as an outsider, and, naturally, this attitude of ours +antagonised singers with whom we appeared. + +Not only that. My brain would have developed much more rapidly if I had +been allowed--no, if I had been _obliged_ to be more self-reliant. To +profit by one's own mistakes;--all the world's history goes to show that +is the only way to learn. By protecting me, my mother really robbed me +of much precious experience. For how many years after I had made my +_debut_ would she wait for me in the _coulisses_, ready to whisk me off +to my dressing-room before any horrible opera singer had a chance to +talk with me! + +Yet she grieved for my forfeited youth--did my dear mother. She always +felt that I was being sacrificed to my work, and just at the time when I +would have most delighted in my girlhood. Of course, I was obliged to +live a life of labour and self-denial, but it was not quite so difficult +for me as she felt it to be, or as other people sometimes thought it +was. Not only did I adore my music, and look forward to my work as an +artist, but I literally never had any other life. I knew nothing of what +I had given up; and so was happy in what I had undertaken, as no girl +could have been happy who had lived a less restricted, hard-working and +yet dream-filled existence. + +My mother was very strait-laced and puritanical, as I have said, and, +naturally, by reflection and association, I was the same. I lay stress +on this because I want one little act of mine to be appreciated as a +sign of my ineradicable girlishness and love of beauty. When I earned my +first money, I went to Mme. Percival's, the smart lingerie shop of New +York, and bought the three most exquisite chemises I could find, +imported and trimmed with real lace! + +I daresay this harmless ebullition of youthful daintiness would have +proved the last straw to some of my Psalm-singing New England relatives. +There was one uncle of mine who vastly disapproved of my going on the +stage at all, saying that it would have been much better if I had been a +good, honest milliner. He used to sing: + +[Illustration: Musical notation; "Broad is the road That leads to +Hell!"] + +in a minor key, with the true, God-fearing, nasal twang in it. + +How I detested that old man! And I had to bury him, too, at the last. I +wonder whether I should have been able to do so if I had gone into the +millinery business! + + + + +CHAPTER IV + +A YOUTHFUL REALIST + + +As I have said, I studied Gilda for nine months. At the end of that time +I was so imbued with the part as to be thoroughly at ease. Present-day +actors call this condition "getting inside the skin" of a _role_. I +simply could not make a mistake, and could do everything connected with +the characterisation with entire unconsciousness. Yet I want to add that +I had little idea of what the opera really meant. + +My _debut_ was in New York at the old Academy of Music, and Rigoletto +was the famous Ferri. He was blind in one eye and I had always to be on +his seeing side,--else he couldn't act. Stigelli was the tenor. Stiegel +was his real name. He was a German and a really fine artist. But I had +then had no experience with stage heroes and thought they were all going +to be exactly as they appeared in my romantic dreams, and--poor man, he +is dead now, so I can say this!--it was a dreadful blow to me to be +obliged to sing a love duet with a man smelling of lager beer and +cheese! + +Charlotte Cushman--who was a great friend of Miss Emma Stebbins, the +sister of Colonel Stebbins--had always been interested in me; so when +she knew that I was to make my _debut_ on February 26 (1861), she put +on _Meg Merrilies_ for that night because she could get through with it +early enough for her to see part of my first performance. She reached +the Academy in time for the last act of _Rigoletto_; and I felt that I +had been highly praised when, as I came out and began to sing, she +cried: + +"The girl doesn't seem to know that she has any arms!" + +My freedom of gesture and action came from nothing but the most complete +familiarity with the part and with the detail of everything I had to do. +In opera one cannot be too temperamental in one's acting. One cannot +make pauses when one thinks it effective, nor alter the stage business +to fit one's mood, nor work oneself up to an emotional crescendo one +night and not do it the next. Everything has to be timed to a second and +a fraction of a second. One cannot wait for unusual effects. The +orchestra does not consider one's temperament, and this fact cannot be +lost sight of for a moment. This is why I believe in rehearsing and +studying and working over a _role_ so exhaustively--and exhaustingly. +For it is only in that most rigidly studied accuracy of action that any +freedom can be attained. When one becomes so trained that one cannot +conceivably retard a bar, and cannot undertime a stage cross nor fail to +come in promptly in an _ensemble_, then, and only then, can one reach +some emotional liberty and inspiration. + +If I had not worked so hard at Gilda I should never have got through +that first performance. I was not consciously nervous, but my throat--it +is quite impossible to tell in words how my throat felt. I have heard +singers describe the first-night sensation variously,--a tongue that +felt stiff, a palate like a hot griddle, and so on. My throat and my +tongue were dry and thick and woolly, like an Oriental rug with a "pile" +so deep and heavy that, if water is spilled on it, the water does not +soak in, but lies about the surface in globules,--just a dry and +unabsorbing carpet. + +My mother was with me behind the scenes; and my grandmother was in front +to see me in all my stage grandeur. I am afraid I did not care +particularly where either of them were. Certainly I had no thought for +anyone who might be seated out in the Great Beyond on the far side of +the footlights. I sang the second act in a dream, unconscious of any +audience:--hardly conscious of the music or of myself--going through it +all mechanically. But the sub-conscious mind had been at work all the +time. As I was changing my costume after the second act, my mother said +to me: + +"I cannot find your grandmother anywhere. I have been looking and +peeping through the hole in the curtain and from the wings, but I cannot +seem to discover where she is sitting." + +Hardly thinking of the words, I answered at once: + +"She is over there to the left, about three rows back, near a pillar." + +The criticisms of the press next day said that my most marked specialty +was my ability to strike a tone with energy. I liked better, however, +one kindly reviewer who observed that my voice was "cordial to the +heart!" The newspapers found my stage appearance peculiar. There was +about it "a marked development of the intellectual at the expense of the +physical to which her New England birth may afford a key." The man who +wrote this was quite correct. He had discovered the Puritan maid behind +the stage trappings of Gilda. + +If omens count for anything I ought to have had a disastrous first +season, for everything went wrong during that opening week. I lost a +bracelet of which I was particularly fond; I fell over a stick in making +an entrance and nearly went on my head; and at the end of the third act +of the second performance of _Rigoletto_ the curtain failed to come +down, and I was obliged to stay in a crouching attitude until it could +be put into working order again. But these trying experiences were not +auguries of failure or of disaster. In fact my public grew steadily +kinder to me, although it hung back a little until after Marguerite. +Audiences were not very cordial to new singers. They distrusted their +own judgment; and I don't altogether wonder that they did. + +The week after my _debut_ we went to Boston to sing. Boston would not +have _Rigoletto_. It was considered objectionable, particularly the +ending. For some inexplicable reason _Linda di Chamounix_ was expected +to be more acceptable to the Bostonian public, and so I was to sing the +part of Linda instead of that of Gilda. I had been working on Linda +during a part of the year in which I studied Gilda, and was quite equal +to it. The others of the company went to Boston ahead of me, and I +played Linda at a _matinee_ in New York before following them. This was +the first time I sang in opera with Brignoli. I went on in the part with +only one rehearsal. Opera-goers do not hear _Linda_ any more, but it is +a graceful little opera with some pretty music and a really charmingly +poetic story. It was taken from the French play, _La Grace de Dieu_, and +_Rigoletto_ was taken from Victor Hugo's _Le Roi S'Amuse_. The story of +_Linda_ is that of a Swiss peasant girl of Chamounix who falls in love +with a French noble whom she has met as a strolling painter in her +village. He returns to Paris and she follows him there, walking all the +way and accompanied by a faithful rustic, Pierotto, who loves her +humbly. He plays a hurdy-gurdy and Linda sings, and so the poor young +vagrants pay their way. In Paris the nobleman finds her and lavishes all +manner of jewels and luxuries upon little Linda, but at last abandons +her to make a rich marriage. On the same day that she hears the news of +her lover's wedding her father comes to her house in Paris and denounces +her. She goes mad, of course. Most operatic heroines did go mad in those +days. And, in the last act, the peasant lover with the hurdy-gurdy takes +her back to Chamounix among the hills. On the lengthy journey he can +lure her along only by playing a melody that she knows and loves. It is +a dear little story; but I never could comprehend how Boston was induced +to accept the second act since they drew the line at _Rigoletto_! + +I liked Linda and wanted to give a truthful and appealing impersonation +of her. But the handicaps of those days of crude and primitive theatre +conditions were really almost insurmountable. Now, with every assistance +of wonderful staging, exquisite costuming, and magical lighting, the +artist may rest upon his or her surroundings and accessories and know +that everything possible to art has been brought together to enhance the +convincing effect. In the old days at the Academy, however, we had no +system of lighting except glaring footlights and perhaps a single, +unimaginative calcium. We had no scenery worthy the name; and as for +costumes, there were just three sets called by the theatre _costumier_ +"Paysannes" (peasant dress); "Norma" (they did not know enough even to +call it "classic"); and "Rich!" The last were more or less of the Louis +XIV period and could be slightly modified for various operas. These +three sets were combined and altered as required. Yet, of course, the +audiences were correspondingly unexacting. They were so accustomed to +nothing but primitive effects that the simplest touch of true realism +surprised and delighted them. Once during a performance of _Il Barbiere_ +the man who was playing the part of Don Basilio sent his hat out of +doors to be snowed on. It was one of those Spanish shovel hats, long and +square-edged, like a plank. When he wore it in the next act, all white +with snowflakes from the blizzard outside, the audience was so simple +and childlike that it roared with pleasure, "Why, it's _real_ snow!" + +It was also the time when hoop skirts were universally fashionable, so +we all wore hoops, no matter what the period we were supposed to be +representing. Scola first showed me how to fall gracefully in a hoop +skirt, not in the least an easy feat to accomplish; and I shall always +remember seeing Mme. de la Grange go to bed in one, in her sleep-walking +scene in _Sonnambula_. Indeed, there was no illusion nor enchantment to +help one in those elementary days. One had to conquer one's public alone +and unaided. + +I confided myself at first to the hands of the _costumier_ with +characteristic truthfulness. I had considered the musical and dramatic +aspects of the part; it did not occur to me that the clothes would +become my responsibility as well. That theatre _costumier_ at the +Academy, I found, could not even cut a skirt. Linda's was a strange +affair, very long on the sides, and startlingly short in front. But this +was the least of my troubles on the afternoon of that first _matinee_ +in New York. When it came to the last act--there having been no +rehearsals, and my experience being next to nothing--I asked innocently +for my costume, and was told that I would have to wear the same dress I +had worn in the first act. + +"But, I can't!" I gasped. "That fresh, new gown, after months are +supposed to have gone by!--when Linda has walked and slept in it during +the whole journey!" + +"No one will think of that," I was assured. + +But _I_ thought of it and simply could not put on that clean dress for +poor Linda's travel-worn last act. I sent for an old shawl from the +chorus and ripped my costume into rags. By this time the orchestra was +almost at the opening bars of the third act and there was not a moment +to lose. Suddenly I looked at my shoes and nearly collapsed with +despair. One always provided one's own foot-gear and the shoes I had on +were absolutely the only pair of the sort required that I possessed; +neat little slippers, painfully new and clean. We had not gone to any +extra expense, in case I did not happen to make a success that would +justify it, and that was the reason I had only the one pair. Well--there +was a moment's struggle before I attacked my pretty shoes--but my +passion for realism triumphed. I sent a man out into Fourteenth Street +at the stage door of the Academy and had him rub those immaculate +slippers in the gutter until they were thoroughly dirty, so that when I +wore them onto the stage three minutes later they looked as if I had +really walked to Paris and back in them. + +The next day the newspapers said that the part of Linda had never before +been sung with so much pathos. + +"Aha!" said I, "that's my old clothes! That's my dirt!" + +I had learned that the more you look your part the less you have to act. +The observance of this truth was always Henry Irving's great strength. +The more completely you get inside a character the less, also, are you +obliged to depend on brilliant vocalism. Mary Garden is a case in point. +She is not a great singer, although she sings better than she is +credited with doing or her voice could not endure as much as it does, +but above all she is intelligent and an artistic realist, taking care +never to lose the spirit of her _role_. Renaud is one of the few men I +have ever seen in opera who was willing to wear dirty clothes if they +chanced to be in character. I shall never forget Jean de Reszke in +_L'Africaine_. In the Madagascar scene, just after the rescue from the +foundered vessel, he appeared in the most beautiful fresh tights +imaginable and a pair of superb light leather boots. Indeed, the most +distinguished performance becomes weak and valueless if the note of +truth is lacking. + +Theodore Thomas was the first violin in the Academy at the time of which +I am writing, and not a very good one either. The director was +Maretzek--"Maretzek the Magnificent" as he was always called, for he was +very handsome and had a vivid and compelling personality--on whom be +benisons, for it was he who, later, suggested the giving of _Faust_, and +me for the leading _role_. + +I was not popular with my fellow-artists and did not have a very +pleasant time preparing and rehearsing for my first parts. The chorus +was made up of Italians who never studied their music, merely learned it +at rehearsal, and the rehearsals themselves were often farcical. The +Italians of the chorus were always bitter against me for, up to that +time, Italians had had the monopoly of music. It was not generally +conceded that Americans could appreciate, much less interpret opera; and +I, as the first American _prima donna_, was in the position of a +foreigner in my own country. The chorus, indeed, could sometimes hardly +contain themselves. "Who is she," they would demand indignantly, "to +come and take the bread out of our mouths?" + +One other person in the company who never gave me a kind word (although +she was not an Italian) was Adelaide Phillips, the contralto. She was a +fine artist and had been singing for many years, so, perhaps, it galled +her to have to "support" a younger countrywoman. When it came to +dividing the honours she was not at all pleased. As Maddalena in +_Rigoletto_ she was very plain; but when she did Pierotto, the boyish, +rustic lover in _Linda_, she looked well. She had the most perfectly +formed pair of legs--ankles, feet and all--that I ever saw on a woman. + +In singing with Brignoli there developed a difficulty to which Ferri's +blindness was nothing. Brignoli seriously objected to being touched +during his scene! Imagine playing love scenes with a tenor who did not +want to be touched, no matter what might be the emotional exigencies of +the moment or situation. The bass part in _Linda_ is that of the Baron, +and when I first sang the opera it was taken by Susini, who had been +with us on our preparatory _tournee_. His wife was Isabella Hinckley, a +good and sweet woman, also a singer with an excellent soprano voice. I +found that the big basso (he was a very large man with a buoyant sense +of humour) was a fine actor and had a genuine dramatic gift in singing. +His sense of humour was always bubbling up, in and out of performances. +I once lost a diamond from one of my rings during the first act. My +dressing-room and the stage were searched, but with no result. We went +on for the last act and, in the scene when I was supposed to be +unconscious, Susini caught sight of the stone glittering on the floor +and picked it up. As he needed his hands for gesticulations, he popped +the diamond into his mouth and when I "came to" he stuck out his tongue +at me with the stone on the end of it! + +While I was working on the part of Linda myself, I heard Mme. Medori +sing it. She gave a fine emotional interpretation, getting great tragic +effects in the Paris act, but she did not catch the _naive_ and +ingenuous quality of poor, young Linda. It could hardly have been +otherwise, for she was at the time a mature woman. There are some +parts,--Marguerite is one of them, also,--that can be made too +complicated, too subtle, too dramatic. I was criticised for my +immaturity and lack of emotional power until I was tired of hearing such +criticism; and once had a quaint little argument about my abilities and +powers with "Nym Crinkle," the musical critic of _The World_, A. C. +Wheeler. (Later he made a success in literature under the name of "J. P. +Mowbray.") + +"What do you expect," I demanded, in my old-fashioned yet childish way, +being at the time eighteen, "what do you expect of a person of my age?" + +[Illustration: =Brignoli, 1865= + +From a photograph by C. Silvy] + + + + +CHAPTER V + +LITERARY BOSTON + + +My friends in New York had given me letters to people in Boston, so I +went there with every opportunity for an enjoyable visit. But, +naturally, I was much more absorbed in my own _debut_ and in what the +public would think of me than I was in meeting new acquaintances and +receiving invitations. Now I wish that I had then more clearly realised +possibilities, for Boston was at the height of its literary reputation. +All my impressions of that Boston season, however, sink into +insignificance compared to that of my first public appearance. I sang +Linda; and there were only three hundred people in the house! + +If anything in the world could have discouraged me that would have, but, +as a matter of fact, I do not believe anything could. At any rate, I +worked all the harder just because the conditions were so adverse; and I +won my public (such as it was) that night. I may add that I kept it for +the remainder of my stay in Boston. + +At that period of my life I was very fragile and one big performance +would wear me out. Literally, I used myself up in singing, for I put +into it every ounce of my strength. I could not save myself when I was +actually working, but my way of economising my vitality was to sing only +twice a week. + +It was after that first performance of _Linda_, some time about +midnight, and my mother and I had just returned to our apartment in the +Tremont House and had hardly taken off our wraps, when a knock came at +the door. Our sitting-room was near a side entrance for the sake of +quietness and privacy, but we paid a penalty in the ease with which we +could be reached by anyone who knew the way. My mother opened the door; +and there stood two ladies who overwhelmed us with gracious speeches. +"They had heard my Linda! They had come because they simply could not +help it; because I had moved them so deeply! Now, _would_ we both come +the following evening to a little _musicale_; and they would ask that +delightful Signor Brignoli too! It would be _such_ a pleasure! etc." + +Although I was not singing the following night, I objected to going to +the _musicale_ because certain experiences in New York had already bred +caution. I said, however, with perfect frankness, that I would go on one +condition. + +"On _any_ condition, dear Miss Kellogg!" + +"You wouldn't expect me to sing?" + +"Oh no; no, no!" + +Accordingly, the next night my mother and I presented ourselves at the +house of the older of the two ladies. The first words our hostess +uttered when I entered the room were: + +"Why! where's your music?" + +"I thought it was understood that I was not to sing," said I. + +But, in spite of their previous earnest disclaimers on this point, they +became so insistent that, after resisting their importunities for a few +moments, I finally consented to satisfy them. I asked Brignoli to play +for me, and I sang the Cavatina from _Linda_. Then I turned on my heel +and went back to my hotel; and I never again entered that woman's house. +After so many years there is no harm in saying that the hostess who was +guilty of this breach of tact, good taste, and consideration, was Mrs. +Paran Stevens, and the other lady was her sister, Miss Fanny Reed, one +of the talented amateurs of the day. They were struggling hard for +social recognition in Boston and every drawing card was of value, even a +new, young singer who might become famous. Later, of course, Mrs. +Stevens did "arrive" in New York; but she travelled some difficult roads +first. + +This was by no means the first time that I had contended with a lack of +consideration in the American hostess, especially toward artists. Her +sisters across the Atlantic have better taste and breeding, never +subjecting an artist who is their guest to the annoyance and indignity +of having to "sing for her supper." But whenever I was invited anywhere +by an American woman, I always knew that I would be expected to bring my +music and to contribute toward the entertainment of the other guests. An +Englishwoman I once met when travelling on the Continent hit the nail on +the head, although in quite another connection. + +"You Americans are so queer," she remarked. "I heard a woman from the +States ask a perfectly strange man recently to stop in at a shop and +match her some silk while he was out! I imagine it is because you don't +mind putting yourselves under obligations, isn't it?" + +Literary Boston of that day revolved around Mr. and Mrs. James T. +Fields, at whose house often assembled such distinguished men and women +as Emerson, Longfellow, Oliver Wendell Holmes, Lowell, Anthony +Trollope, Harriet Beecher Stowe, and Julia Ward Howe. Mr. Fields was the +editor of _The Atlantic Monthly_, and his sense of humour was always a +delight. + +"A lady came in from the suburbs to see me this morning," he once +remarked to me. "'Well, Mr. Fields,' she said, with great +impressiveness, 'what have you new in literature to-day? I'm just +_thusty_ for knowledge!'" + +Your true New Englander always says "thust" and "fust" and "wust," and +Mr. Fields had just the intonation--which reminds me somehow--in a +roundabout fashion--of a strange woman who battered on my door once +after I had appeared in _Faust_, in Boston, to tell me that "that man +Mephisto-fleas was just great!" + +It was a wonderful privilege to meet Longfellow. He was never gay, never +effusive, leaving these attributes to his talkative brother-in-law, Tom +Appleton, who was a wit and a humourist. Indeed, Longfellow was rather +noted for his cold exterior, and it took a little time and trouble to +break the ice, but, though so unexpressive outwardly, his nature was +most winning when one was once in touch with it. His first wife was +burned to death and the tragedy affected him permanently, although he +made a second and a very successful marriage with Tom Appleton's sister. +The brothers-in-law were often together and formed the oddest possible +contrast to each other. + +[Illustration: =James Russell Lowell in 1861= + +From a photograph by Brady] + +Longfellow and I became good friends. I saw him many times and often +went to his house to sing to him. He greatly enjoyed my singing of his +own _Beware_. It was always one of my successful _encore_ songs, +although it certainly is not Longfellow at his best. But he liked me +to sit at the piano and wander from one song to another. The older the +melodies, the sweeter he found them. Longfellow's verses have much in +common with simple, old-fashioned songs. They always touched the common +people, particularly the common people of England. They were so simple +and so true that those folk who lived and laboured close to the earth +found much that moved them in the American writer's unaffected and +elemental poetry. Yet it seems a bit strange that his poems are more +loved and appreciated in England than in America, much as Tennyson's are +more familiar to us than to his own people. Some years later, when I was +singing in London, I heard that Longfellow was in town and sent him a +box. He and Tom Appleton, who was with him, came behind the scenes +between the acts to see me and, my mother being with me, both were +invited into my dressing-room. In the London theatres there are women, +generally advanced in years, who assist the _prima donna_ or actress to +dress. These do not exist in American theatres. I had a maid, of course, +but there was this woman of the theatre, also, a particularly ordinary +creature who contributed nothing to the gaiety of nations and who, +indeed, rarely showed feeling of any sort. I happened to say to her: + +"Perkins, I am going to see Mr. Longfellow." + +Her face became absolutely transfigured. + +"Oh, Miss," she cried in a tone of awe and curtseying to his name, "you +don't mean 'im that wrote _Tell me not in mournful numbers_? Oh, Miss! +_'im!_" + +Lowell I knew only slightly, yet his distinguished and distinctive +personality made a great impression on me. Thomas Bailey Aldrich, a +blond, curly-headed young man, whose later prosperity greatly +interfered with his ability, I first met about this same time. He was +too successful too young, and it stultified his gifts, as being +successful too young usually does stultify the natural gifts of anybody. +On one occasion I met Anthony Trollope at the Fields', the English +novelist whose works were then more or less in vogue. He had just come +from England and was filled with conceit. English people of that time +were incredibly insular and uninformed about us, and Mr. Trollope knew +nothing of America, and did not seem to want to know anything. +Certainly, English people when they are not thoroughbred can be very +common! Trollope was full of himself and wrote only for what he could +get out of it. I never, before or since, met a literary person who was +so frankly "on the make." The discussion that afternoon was about the +recompense of authors, and Trollope said that he had reduced his +literary efforts to a working basis and wrote so many words to a page +and so many pages to a chapter. He refrained from using the actual word +"money"--the English shrink from the word "money"--but he managed to +convey to his hearers the fact that a considerable consideration was the +main incentive to his literary labour, and put the matter more +specifically later, to my mother, by telling her that he always _chose +the words that would fill up the pages quickest_. + +Nathaniel Hawthorne, though he was one of the Fields' circle, I never +met at all. He was tragically shy, and more than once escaped from the +house when we went in rather than meet two strange women. + +"Hawthorne has just gone out the other way," Mrs. Fields would whisper, +smiling. "He's too frightened to meet you!" + +I met his boy Julian, however, who was about twelve years old. He was a +nice lad and I kissed him--to his great annoyance, for he was shy too, +although not so much so as his father. Not so very long ago Julian +Hawthorne reminded me of this episode. + +"Do you remember," he said, laughing, "how embarrassed I was when you +kissed me? 'Never you mind' you said to me then, 'the time will come, my +boy, when you'll be glad to remember that I kissed you!' And it +certainly did come!" + +All Boston that winter was stirred by the approaching agitations of war; +and those two remarkable women, Mrs. Stowe and Mrs. Howe were using +their pens to excite the community into a species of splendid rage. I +first met them both at the Fields' and always admired Julia Ward Howe as +a representative type of the highest Boston culture. Harriet Beecher +Stowe had just finished _Uncle Tom's Cabin_. Many people believed that +it and the disturbance it made were partly responsible for the war +itself. Mr. Fields told me that her "copy" was the most remarkable +"stuff" that the publishers had ever encountered. It was written quite +roughly and disconnectedly on whatever scraps of paper she had at hand. +I suppose she wrote it when the spirit moved her. At any rate, Mr. +Fields said it was the most difficult task imaginable to fit it into any +form that the printers could understand. Mrs. Stowe was a quiet, elderly +woman, and talked very little. I had an odd sort of feeling that she had +put so much of herself into her book that she had nothing left to offer +socially. + +I did not realise until years afterwards what a precious privilege it +was to meet in such a charming _intime_ way the men and women who really +"made" American literature. The Fields literally kept open house. They +were the most hospitable of people, and I loved them and spent some +happy hours with them. I cannot begin to enumerate or even to remember +all the literary lights I met in their drawing-room. Of that number +there were James Freeman Clarke, Harriet Prescott Spofford, whom I knew +later in Washington, and Gail Hamilton who was just budding into +literary prominence; and Sidney Lanier. But, as I look back on that +first Boston engagement, I see plainly that the most striking impression +made upon my youthful mind during the entire season was the opening +night of _Linda di Chamounix_ and the three hundred auditors! + +It was long, long after that first season that I had some of my +pleasantest times in Boston with Sidney Lanier. This may not be the +right place to mention them, but they certainly belong under the heading +of this chapter. + +The evening that stands out most clearly in my memory was one, in the +'seventies, that I spent at the house of dear Charlotte Cushman who was +then very ill and who died almost immediately after. Sidney Lanier was +there with his flute, which he played charmingly. Indeed, he was as much +musician as poet, as anyone who knows his verse must realise. He was +poor then, and Miss Cushman was interested in him and anxious to help +him in every way she could. There were two dried-up, little, Boston old +maids there too--queer creatures--who were much impressed with High Art +without knowing anything about it. One composition that Lanier played +somewhat puzzled me--my impertinent absolute pitch was, as usual, hard +at work--and at the end I exclaimed: + +"That piece doesn't end in the same key in which it begins!" + +Lanier looked surprised and said: + +"No, it doesn't. It is one of my own compositions." + +He thought it remarkable that I could catch the change of key in such a +long and intricately modulated piece of music. The little old maids of +Boston were somewhat scandalised by my effrontery; but there was even +more to come. After another lovely thing which he played for us, I was +so impressed by the rare tone of his instrument that I asked: + +"Is that a Boehm flute?" + +He, being a musician, was delighted with the implied compliment; but the +old ladies saw in my question only a shocking slight upon his execution. +Turning to one another they ejaculated with one voice, and that one +filled with scorn and pity: + +"She thinks it's the _flute_!" + +This difference between professionals and the laity is odd. The more +enchanted a professional is with another artist's performance, the more +technical interest and curiosity he feels. The amateur only knows how to +rhapsodise. This seems to be so in everything. When someone rides in an +automobile for the first time he only thinks how exciting it is and how +fast he is going. The experienced motorist immediately wants to know +what sort of engine the machine has, and how many cylinders. + +I have always loved a flute. It is a difficult instrument to play with +colour and variety. It is not like the violin, on which one can get +thirds, and sixths, and sevenths, by using the arpeggio: it is a single, +thin tone and can easily become monotonous if not played skilfully. +Furthermore, there are only certain pieces of music that ever ought to +be played on it. Wagner uses the flute wonderfully. He never lets it +bore his audience. The Orientals have brought flute playing and flute +music to a fine art, and it is one of the oldest of instruments, but, +unlike the violin and other instruments, it is more perfectly +manufactured to-day than it was in the past. The modern flutes have a +far more mellow and sympathetic tone than the old ones. + +That whole evening at Miss Cushman's was complete in its fulness of +experience, as I recall it, looking back across the years. How many +people know that Miss Cushman had studied singing and had a very fine +_baritone_ contralto voice? Two of her songs were _The Sands o' Dee_ and +_Low I Breathe my Passion_. That night, the last time I ever heard her +sing, I recalled how often before I had seen her seating herself at the +piano to play her own accompaniments, always a difficult thing to do. +Again I can see her, at this late day, turning on the stool to talk to +us between songs, emphasising her points with that odd, inevitable +gesture of the forefinger that was so characteristic of her, and then +wheeling back to the instrument to let that deep voice of hers roll +through the room in + + "Will she wake and say good night?"... + +During that first Boston season of mine, my mother and I used to give +breakfasts at the Parker House. We were somewhat noted characters there +as we were the first women to stop at it, the Parker House being +originally a man's restaurant exclusively; and breakfast was a meal of +ceremony. The _chef_ of the Parker House used to surpass himself at our +breakfast entertainments for he knew that such an epicure as Oliver +Wendell Holmes might be there at any time. This _chef_, by the way, was +the first man to put up soups in cans and, after he left the Parker +House kitchens, he made name and money for himself in establishing the +canned goods trade. + +[Illustration: =Charlotte Cushman, 1861= + +From a photograph by Silsbee, Case & Co.] + +Dear Dr. Holmes! What a delightful, warm spontaneous nature was his, and +what a fine mind! We were always good friends and I am proud of the +fact. Shall I ever forget the dignity and impressiveness of his bearing +as, after the fourth course of one of my breakfasts, he glanced up, saw +the waiter approaching, arose solemnly as if he were about to make a +speech, went behind his chair,--we all thought he was about to give us +one of his brilliant addresses--shook out one leg and then the other, +all most seriously and without a word, so as to make room for the next +course! + +Years later Dr. Holmes and I crossed from England on the same steamer. +He had been feted and made much of in England and we discussed the +relative brilliancy of American and English women. I contended that +Americans were the brighter and more sparkling, while English women had +twice as much real education and mental training. Dr. Holmes agreed, but +with reservations. He professed himself to be still dazzled with British +feminine wit. + +"I'm tired to death," he declared. "At every dinner party I went to they +had picked out the cleverest women in London to sit on each side of me. +I'm utterly exhausted trying to keep up with them!" + +This was the voyage when the benefit for the sailors was given--for the +English sailors, that is. It was well arranged so that the American +seamen could get nothing out of it. Dr. Holmes was asked to speak and I +was asked to sing; but we declined to perform. We did write our names +on the programmes, however, and as these sold for a considerable price, +we added to the fund in spite of our intentions. + +My first season in Boston--from which I have strayed so far so many +times--was destined to be a brief one, but also very strenuous, due to +the fact that in the beginning I had only two operas in my _repertoire_, +one of which Boston did not approve. After _Linda_, I was rushed on in +Bellini's _I Puritani_ and had to "get up in it" in three days. It went +very well, and was followed with _La Sonnambula_ by the same composer +and after only one week's rehearsal. I was a busy girl in those weeks; +and I should have been still busier if opera in America had not received +a sudden and tragic blow. + +The "vacillating" Buchanan's reign was over. On March 4th Lincoln was +inaugurated. A hush of suspense was in the air:--a hush broken on April +12th by the shot fired by South Carolina upon Fort Sumter. On April 14th +Sumter capitulated and Abraham Lincoln called for volunteers. The Civil +War had begun. + + + + +CHAPTER VI + +WAR TIMES + + +At first the tremendous crisis filled everyone with a purely impersonal +excitement and concern; but one fine morning we awoke to the fact that +our opera season was paralysed. + +The American people found the actual dramas of Bull Run, Big Bethel and +Harpers Ferry more absorbing than any play or opera ever put upon the +boards, and the airs of _Yankee Doodle_ and _The Girl I Left Behind Me_ +more inspiring than the finest operatic _arias_ in the world. They did +not want to go to the theatres in the evening. They wanted to read the +bulletin boards. Every move in the big game of war that was being played +by the ruling powers of our country was of thrilling interest, and as +fast as things happened they were "posted." + +Maretzek "the Magnificent," so obstinate that he simply did not know how +to give up a project merely because it was impossible, packed a few of +us off to Philadelphia to produce the _Ballo in Maschera_. We hoped +against hope that it would be light enough to divert the public, at even +that tragic moment. But the public refused to be diverted. Why I ever +sang in it I cannot imagine. I weighed barely one hundred and four +pounds and was about as well suited to the part of Amelia as a sparrow +would have been. I never liked the _role_; it is heavy and uncongenial +and altogether out of my line. I should never have been permitted to do +it, and I have always suspected that there might have been something of +a plot against me on the part of the Italians. But all this made no +difference, for we abandoned the idea of taking the opera out on a short +tour. We could plainly see that opera was doomed for the time being in +America. + +Then Maretzek bethought himself of _La Figlia del Reggimento_, a +military opera, very light and infectious, that might easily catch the +wave of public sentiment at the moment. We put it on in a rush. I played +the Daughter and we crowded into the performance every bit of martial +feeling we could muster. I learned to play the drum, and we introduced +all sorts of military business and bugle calls, and altogether contrived +to create a warlike atmosphere. We were determined to make a success of +it; but we were also genuinely moved by the contagious glow that +pervaded the country and the times, and to this combined mood of +patriotism and expediency we sacrificed many artistic details. For +example, we were barbarous enough to put in sundry American national +airs and we had the assistance of real Zouaves to lend colour; and this +reminds me that about the same period Isabella Hinckley even sang _The +Star Spangled Banner_ in the middle of a performance of _Il Barbiere_. + +Our attempt was a great success. We played Donizetti's little opera to +houses of frantic enthusiasm, first in Baltimore, then in Washington on +May the third, where naturally the war fever was at its highest heat. +The audiences cheered and cried and let themselves go in the hysterical +manner of people wrought up by great national excitements. Even on the +stage we caught the feeling. I sang the Figlia better than I had ever +sung anything yet, and I found myself wondering, as I sang, how many of +my cadet friends of a few months earlier were already at the front. + +[Illustration: =Clara Louise Kellogg as Figlia= + +From a photograph by Black & Case] + +I felt very proud of these friends when I read the despatches from the +front. They all distinguished themselves, some on one side and some on +the other. Alec McCook was Colonel of the 1st Ohio Volunteers, being an +Ohio man by birth, and did splendid service in the first big battle of +the war, Bull Run. He was made Major-General of Volunteers later, I +believe, and always held a prominent position in American military +affairs. From Fort Pulaski came word of Lieutenant Horace Porter who, +though only recently graduated, was in command of the battlements there. +He was speedily brevetted Captain for "distinguished gallantry under +fire," and after Antietam he was sent to join the Army of the Ohio. He +was everywhere and did everything imaginable during the +war--Chattanooga, Chickamauga, the Battle of the Wilderness--and was +General Grant's _aide-de-camp_ in some of the big conflicts. McCreary +and young Huger I heard less of because they were on the other side; but +they were both brave fellows and did finely according to their +convictions. It is odd to recall that Huger's father, General Isaac +Huger, had fought for the Union in the early wars and yet turned against +her in the civil struggle between the blues and the greys. The Hugers +were South Carolinians though, and therefore rabid Confederates. + +With the war and its many memories, ghosts will always rise up in my +recollection of Custer, the "Golden Haired Laddie,"--as his friends +called him. He was a good friend of mine, and after the war was over he +used to come frequently to see me and tell me the most wonderful, +thrilling stories about it, and of his earliest fights with the Indians. +He was a most vivid creature; one felt a sense of vigour and energy and +eagerness about him; and he was so brave and zealous as to make one know +that he would always come up to the mark. I never saw more magnificent +enthusiasm. He was not thirty at that time and when on horseback, riding +hard, with his long yellow hair blowing back in the wind, he was a +marvellously striking figure. He was not really a tall man, but looked +so, being a soldier. Oh, if I could only remember those stories of +his--stories of pluck and of danger and of excitement! + +It has always been a matter of secret pride with me that, in my small +way, I did something for the Union too. I heard that our patriotic and +inartistic _Daughter of the Regiment_ caused several lads to enlist. I +do not know if this were true, but I hoped so at the time, and it might +well have been so. + +I had a dresser, Ellen Conklin, who had some strange and rather ghastly +tales to tell of the slave trade in the days before the war. She had +been in other opera companies, small troupes, that sang their way from +the far South, and the primitive and casual manner of their travel had +offered many opportunities for her to visit any number of slave markets. +She frequently had been harrowed to the breaking point by the sight of +mothers separated from their children, and men and women who loved each +other being parted for life. The worst horror of it all had been to her +the examining of the female slaves as to their physical equipment, in +which the buyers were more often brutal than not. Ellen was Irish and +emotional; and it tore her heart out to see such things; but she kept +on going to the slave sales just the same. + +[Illustration: =General Horace Porter= + +From a photograph by Pach Bros.] + +"They nearly killed me, Miss," she declared to me with tears in her +eyes, "but I could never resist one!" + +Though I quite understood Ellen's emotions, I found it a little +difficult to understand why she invited them so persistently. But I have +learned that this is a very common human weakness--luckily for managers +who put on harrowing plays. Many people go to the theatre to cry. When I +sang Mignon the audience always cried and wiped its eyes; and I felt +convinced that many had come for exactly that purpose. Two women I know +once went to see Helena Modjeska in _Adrienne Lecouvreur_ and, when the +curtain fell, one of them turned to the other with streaming eyes and +gasped between her choking sobs: + +"L--l--let's come--(sob)--again--(sob)--t--t--to-morrow night! (sob, +sob)." + +Personally, I think there are occasions enough for tears in this life, +bitter or consoling, without having somebody on the stage draw them out +over fictitious joys and sorrows. + +In the beginning of the war the feeling against the negroes was really +more bitter in the North than in the South. The riots in New York were a +scandal and a disgrace, although very few people have any idea how bad +they actually were. The Irish Catholics were particularly rabid and +asserted openly, right and left, that the freeing of the slaves would +mean an influx of cheap labour that would become a drug on the market. +It was an Irish mob that burned a coloured orphan asylum, after which +taste of blood the most innocent black was not safe. Perfectly harmless +coloured people were hanged to lamp-posts with impunity. No one ever +seemed to be punished for such outrages. The time was one of open +lawlessness in New York City. The Irish seem sometimes to be peculiarly +possessed by this unreasoning and hysterical mob spirit which, as Ruskin +once pointed out, they always manage to justify to themselves by some +high abstract principle or sentiment. A story that has always seemed to +me illustrative of this is that of the Hibernian contingent that hanged +an unfortunate Jew because his people had killed Jesus Christ and, when +reminded that it had all happened some time before, replied that "that +might be, but they had only just heard of it!" It is a singularly +significant story, with much more truth than jest in it. Years later, I +recollect that those Irish riots in New York over the negro question +served as the basis for some exceedingly heated arguments between an +English friend of mine at Aix-les-Bains and a Catholic priest living +there. The priest sought to justify them, but his reasonings have +escaped me. + +At the time of these riots our New York home was on Twenty-second Street +where Stern's shop now stands. We rented it from the Bryces, +Southerners, who had a coloured coachman, a fact that made our residence +a target for the animosity of our more ignorant neighbours who lived in +the rear. The house was built with a foreign porte-cochere; and, time +and again, small mobs would throng under that porte-cochere, battering +on the door and trying to break in to get the coachman. The hanging of a +negro near St. John's Chapel was an occasion for rejoicing and +festivity, and the lower class Irish considered it a time for their best +clothes. One hears of bear-baiting and bull-fights. But think of the +barbarity of all this! + +Once, when we went away for a day or two, we left Irish servants in the +house and, on returning, I found that the maids had been wearing my +smartest gowns to view the riots and lynchings. A common lace collar was +pinned to one of my French dresses and I had little difficulty in +getting the waitress to admit that she had worn it. She explained +_naively_ that the riots were gala occasions, "a great time for the +Irish." She added that she had met my father on the stairs and had been +afraid that he would recognise the dress; but, although she was penitent +enough about "borrowing" the finery, she did not in the least see +anything odd in her desire to dress up for the tormenting of an +unfortunate fellow-creature. + +Everybody went about singing Mrs. Howe's _Battle Hymn of the Republic_ +and it was then that I first learned that the air--the simple but +rousing little melody of _John Brown's Body_--was in reality a melody by +Felix Mendelssohn. Martial songs of all kinds were the order of the day +and all more classic music was relegated to the background for the time +being. It was not until the following winter that public sentiment +subsided sufficiently for us to really consider another musical season. + + + + +CHAPTER VII + +STEPS OF THE LADDER + + +In the three years between my _debut_ and my appearance in _Faust_ I +sang, in all, a dozen operas:--_Rigoletto_, _Linda_, _I Puritani_, +_Sonnambula_, _Ballo in Maschera_, _Figlia del Reggimento_, _Les Noces +de Jeannette_, _Lucia_, _Don Giovanni_, _Poliuto_, _Marta_, and +_Traviata_. Besides these, I sang a good deal in concert, but I never +cared for either concert or oratorio work as much as for opera. My real +growth and development came from big parts in which both musical and +dramatic accomplishment were necessary. + +Like all artists, I look back upon many fluctuations in my artistic +achievements. Sometimes I was good, and often not so good; and, +curiously enough, I was usually best, according to my friends and +critics, when most dissatisfied with myself. But of one thing I am +fairly confident:--I never really went backward, never seriously +retrograded artistically. Each _role_ was a step further and higher. To +each I brought a clearer vision, a surer touch, a more flexible method, +a finer (how shall I say it in English?) _attaque_ is nearest what I +mean. This I say without vanity, for the artist who does not grow and +improve with each succeeding part is deteriorating. There is no standing +still in any life work; or, if there is, it is the standing still of +successful effort, the hard-won tenure of a difficult place from which +most people slip back. The Red Queen in _Through the Looking Glass_ +expressed it rightly when she told Alice that "you have to run just as +hard as you can to stay where you are." + +As Gilda I was laying only the groundwork. My performance was, I +believe, on the right lines. It rang true. But it was far from what it +became in later years when the English critics found me "the most +beautiful and convincing of all Gildas!" As Linda I do not think that I +showed any great intellectual improvement over Gilda, but I had acquired +a certain confidence and authority. I sang and acted with more ease; and +for the first time I had gained a sense of _personal responsibility_ +toward, and for, an audience. When I beheld only three hundred people in +my first-night Boston audience and determined to win them, and did win +them, I came into possession of new and important factors in my work. +This consciousness and earnest will-power to move one's public by the +force of one's art is one of the first steps toward being a true _prima +donna_. + +_I Puritani_ never taught me very much, simply as an opera. The part was +too heavy as my voice was then, and our production of it was so hurried +that I had not time to spend on it the study which I liked to give a new +_role_. But in this very fact lay its lesson for me. The necessity for +losing timidity and self-consciousness, the power to fling oneself into +a new part without time to coddle one's vanity or one's habits of mind, +the impersonal courage needed to attack fresh difficulties:--these +points are of quite as much importance to a young opera singer as are +fine breath control and a gift for phrasing. _Sonnambula_, too, had to +be "jumped into" in the same fashion and was even more of an +undertaking, though the _role_ suited me better and is, in fact, a +rarely grateful one. Yet think of being Amina with only one week's +rehearsing! _Sonnambula_ was first given by us as a benefit performance +for Brignoli. It was generally understood to be in the nature of a +farewell. Indeed, I think he said so himself. But, of course, he never +had the slightest idea of really leaving America. He stayed here until +he died. But to his credit be it said that he never had any more +"farewell" appearances. He did not form the habit. + +I have spoken of how hopeless it is for an opera singer to try to work +emotionally or purely on impulse; of how futile the merely temperamental +artist becomes on the operatic stage. Yet too much stress cannot be laid +on the importance of feeling what one does and sings. It is in just this +seeming paradox that the truly professional artist's point of view may +be found. The amateur acts and sings temperamentally. The trained +student gives a finished and correct performance. It is only a +genius--or something very near it--who can do both. There is something +balanced and restrained in a genuine _prima donna's_ brain that keeps +her emotions from running away with her, just as there is at the same +time something equally warm and inspired in her heart that animates the +most clear-cut of her intellectual work and makes it living and lovely. +Sometimes it is difficult for an experienced artist to say just where +instinct stops and art begins. When I sang Amina I was greatly +complimented on my walk and my intonation, both most characteristic of a +somnambulist. I made a point of keeping a strange, rhythmical, dreamy +step like that of a sleep-walker and sang as if I were talking in my +sleep. I breathed in a hard, laboured way, and walked with the headlong +yet dragging gait of someone who neither sees, knows, nor cares where +she is going. Now, this effect came not entirely from calculation nor +yet from intuition, but from a combination of the two. I was in the +_mood_ of somnambulism and acted accordingly. But I deliberately placed +myself in that mood. This only partly expresses what I wish to say on +the subject; but it is the root of dramatic work as I know it. + +The opera of _Sonnambula_, incidentally, taught me one or two things not +generally included in stage essentials. Among others, I had to learn not +to be afraid, physically afraid, or at any rate not to mind being +afraid. In the sleep-walking scene Amina, carrying her candle and robed +in white, glides across the narrow bridge at a perilous height while the +watchers below momentarily expect her to be dashed to pieces on the +rocks underneath. Our bridge used to be set very high indeed (it was +especially lofty in the Philadelphia Opera House where we gave the opera +a little later), and I had quite a climb to get up to it at all. There +was a wire strung along the side of the bridge, but it was not a bit of +good to lean on--merely a moral support. I had to carry the candle in +one hand and couldn't even hold the other outstretched to balance +myself, for sleep-walkers do not fall! This was the point that I had to +keep in mind; I could not walk carefully, but I had to walk with +certainty. In a sense it was suggestive of a hypnotic condition and I +had to get pretty nearly into one myself before I could do it. At all +events, I had to compose myself very summarily first. Just in the middle +of the crossing the bridge is supposed to crack. Of course the edges +were only broken; but I had to give a sort of "jog" to carry out the +illusion and I used to wonder, the while I jogged, if I were going over +the side _that_ time! In the wings they used to be quite anxious about +me and would draw a general breath of relief when I was safely across. +Every night I would be asked if I were sure I wanted to undertake it +that night, and every time I would answer: + +"I don't know whether I _can_!" + +But, of course, I always did it. Somehow, one always does do one's work +on the stage, even if it is trying to the nerves or a bit dangerous. I +have heard that when Maud Adams put on her big production of _Joan of +Arc_, her managers objected seriously to having her lead the mounted +battle charge herself. A "double" was costumed exactly like her and was +ready to mount Miss Adams's horse at the last moment. But did she ever +give a double a chance to lead her battle charge? Not she: and no more +would any true artist. + +[Illustration: =Muzio= + +From a photograph by Gurney & Son] + +_Sonnambula_ also helped fix in my mentality the traditions of Italian +opera; those traditions that my teachers--Muzio particularly--had been +striving so hard to impress upon and make real to me. The school of the +older operas, while the greatest school for singers in the world, is one +in which tradition is, and must be, pre-eminent. In the modern growths, +springing up among us every year, the singer has a chance to create, to +trace new paths, to take venturesome flights. The new operas not only +permit this, they require it. But it is a pity to hear a young, +imaginative artist try to interpret some old and classic opera by the +light of his or her modern perceptions. They do not improve on the +material. They only make a combination that is bizarre and inartistic. +This struck me forcibly not long ago when I heard a young, talented +American sing _A non giunge_, the lovely old _aria_ from the last act +of _Sonnambula_. The girl had a charming voice and she sang with musical +feeling and taste. But she had not one "tradition" as we understood the +term, and, in consequence, almost any worn-out, old-school singer could +have rendered the _aria_ more acceptably to trained ears. Traditions are +as necessary to the Bellini operas as costumes are to Shakespeare's +plays. To dispense with them may be original, but it is bad art. And +yet, while I became duly impressed with the necessity of the +"traditions," during those early performances, I always tried to avoid +following them too servilely or too artificially. I tried to interpret +for myself, within certain well-defined limits, according to my personal +conception of the characters I was personating. The traditions of +Italian opera combined with my own ideals of the lyric heroines,--this +became my object and ambition. + +The summer after my _debut_, I went on a concert tour under Grau's +management, but my throat was tired after the strain and nervous effort +of my first season, and I finally went up to the country for a long +rest. In New Hartford, Connecticut, my mother, father, and I renewed +many old friendships, and it was a genuine pleasure to sing again in a +small choir, to attend sewing circles, and to live the every-day life +from which I had been so far removed during my studies and professional +work. People everywhere were charming to me. Though only nineteen, I was +an acknowledged _prima donna_, and so received all sorts of kindly +attentions. This was the summer, I believe, (although it may have been a +later one) when Herbert Witherspoon, then only a boy, determined to +become a professional singer. He has always insisted that it was my +presence and the glamour that surrounded the stage because of me that +finally decided him. + +I did not sing again in New York until the January of 1862. Before that +we had a short season on the road, Philadelphia, Baltimore, and other +places. As there were then but nine opera houses in America our +itinerary was necessarily somewhat limited. In November of that year I +sang in _Les Noces de Jeannette_, in Philadelphia, a charming part +although not a very important one. It is a simple little operetta in one +act by Victor Macci. The _libretto_ was in French and I sang it in that +language. Pleasing speeches were made about my French and people wanted +to know where I had studied it--I, who had never studied it at all +except at home! The opera was not long enough for a full evening's +entertainment, so Miss Hinckley was put on in the same bill in +Donizetti's _Betly_. The two went very well together. + +The critics found _Jeannette_ a great many surprising things, "broad," +"risque," "typically French," and so on. In reality it was innocent +enough; but it must be remembered that this was a day and generation +which found _Faust_ frightfully daring, and _Traviata_ so improper that +a year's hard effort was required before it could be sung in Brooklyn. I +sympathised with one critic, however, who railed against the translated +_libretto_ as sold in the lobby. After stating that it was utter +nonsense, he added with excellent reason: + +"But this was to have been expected. That anyone connected with an opera +house should know enough about English to make a decent translation into +it is, of course, quite out of the question." + +It was really funny about _Traviata_. In 1861 President Chittenden, of +the Board of Directors of the Brooklyn Academy of Music, made a +sensational speech arraigning the plot of _Traviata_,[1] and protesting +against its production in Brooklyn on the grounds of propriety, or, +rather, impropriety. Meetings were held and it was finally resolved that +the opera was objectionable. The feeling against it grew into a series +of almost religious ceremonies of protest and, as I have said, it took +Grau a year of hard effort to overcome the opposition. When, at last, in +'62, the opera was given, I took part; and the audience was all on edge +with excitement. There had been so much talk about it that the whole +town turned out to see _why_ the Directors had withstood it for a year. +Every clergyman within travelling distance was in the house. + + [1] The book is founded upon Dumas's _La Dame aux Camelias_. + +Its dramatic sister _Camille_ was also opposed violently when Mme. +Modjeska played it in Brooklyn in later years. These facts are amusing +in the light of present-day productions and their morals, or dearth of +them. _Salome_ is, I think, about the only grand opera of recent times +that has been suppressed by a Directors' Meeting. But in my youth +Directors were very tender of their public's virtuous feelings. When +_The Black Crook_ and the Lydia Thompson troupe first appeared in New +York, people spoke of those comparatively harmless shows with bated +breath and no one dared admit having actually seen them. The "Lydia +Thompson Blonds" the troupe was called. They did a burlesque song and +dance affair, and wore yellow wigs. Mr. Brander Matthews married one of +the most popular and charming of them. I wonder what would have happened +to an audience of that time if a modern, up-to-date, Broadway musical +farce had been presented to their consideration! + +At any rate, the much-advertised _Traviata_ was finally given, being a +huge and sensational success. Probably I did not really understand the +character of Violetta down in the bottom of my heart. Modjeska once said +that a woman was only capable of playing Juliet when she was old enough +to be a grandmother; and if that be true of the young Verona girl, how +much more must it be true of poor Camille. My interpretation of the Lady +of the Camellias must have been a curiously impersonal one. I know that +when Emma Abbott appeared in it later, the critics said that she was so +afraid of allowing it to be suggestive that she made it so, whereas I +apparently never thought of that side of it and consequently never +forced my audiences to think of it either. + + There are some things accessible to genius that are beyond the + reach of character [wrote one reviewer]. Abbott expects to make + _Traviata_ acceptable very much as she would make a capon + acceptable. She is always afraid of the words. So she substitutes + her own. Kellogg sang this opera and nobody ever thought of the bad + there is in it. Why? _Because Kellogg never thought of it._ Abbott + reminds me of a girl of four who weeps for pantalettes on account + of the wickedness of the world! + +Violetta's gowns greatly interested me. I liked surprising the public +with new and startling effects. I argued that Violetta would probably +love curious and exotic combinations, so I dressed her first act in a +gown of rose pink and pale primrose yellow. Odd? Yes; of course it was +odd. But the colour scheme, bizarre as it was, always looked to my mind +and the minds of other persons altogether enchanting. + +_A propos_ of the Violetta gowns, I sang the part during one season with +a tenor whose hands were always dirty. I found the back of my pretty +frocks becoming grimier and grimier, and greasier and greasier, and, as +I provided my own gowns and had to be economical, I finally came to the +conclusion that I could not and would not afford such wholesale and +continual ruin. So I sent my compliments to Monsieur and asked him +please to be extra careful and particular about washing his hands before +the performance as my dress was very light and delicate, etc.,--quite a +polite message considering the subject. Politeness, however, was +entirely wasted on him. Back came the cheery and nonchalant reply: + +"All right! Tell her to send me some soap!" + +I sent it: and I supplied him with soap for the rest of the season. This +was cheaper than buying new clothes. + +Tenors are queer creatures. Most of them have their eccentricities and +the soprano is lucky if these are innocuous peculiarities. I used to +find it in my heart, for instance, to wish that they did not have such +queer theories as to what sort of food was good for the voice. Many of +them affected garlic. Stigelli usually exhaled an aroma of lager beer; +while the good Mazzoleni invariably ate from one to two pounds of cheese +the day he was to sing. He said it strengthened his voice. Brignoli had +been long enough in this country to become partly Americanised, so he +never smelled of anything in particular. + +_Poliuto_ by Donizetti was never as brilliant a success as other operas +by the same composer. It is never given now. The scene of it is laid in +Rome, in the days of the Christian martyrs, and it has some very +effective moments, but for some reason those classic days did not +appeal to the public of our presentation. I do not believe _Quo Vadis_ +would ever have gone then as it did later. The music of _Poliuto_ was +easy and showed off the voice, like all of Donizetti's music: and the +part of Paulina was exceptionally fine, with splendid opportunities for +dramatic work. The scene where she is thrown into the Colosseum was +particularly effective. But the American audiences did not seem to be +deeply interested in the fate of Paulina nor in that of Septimus +Severus. The year before my _debut_ in _Rigoletto_ I had rehearsed +Paulina and had made something tragically near to a failure of it as I +had not then the physical nor vocal strength for the part. Indeed, I +should never then have been allowed to try it, and I have always had a +suspicion that I was put in it for the express purpose of proving me a +failure. That was when Muzio decided to "try me out" in the concert +_tournee_ as a sort of preliminary education. Therefore, one of the most +comforting elements of the final _Poliuto_ production to me was the +realisation that I was appearing, and appearing well, in a part in which +I had rehearsed so very discouragingly such a short time before. It was +a small triumph, perhaps, but it combined with many other small matters +to establish that sure yet humble confidence which is so essential to a +singer. So far as personal success went, Brignoli made the hit of +_Poliuto_. + +[Illustration: =Clara Louise Kellogg as Lucia= + +From a photograph by Elliott & Fry] + +Lucia was never one of my favourite parts, but it is a singularly +grateful one. It has very few bad moments, and one can attack it without +the dread one sometimes feels for a _role_ containing difficult +passages. Of course Lucia, with her hopeless, weak-minded love for +Edgardo, and her spectacular mad scene, reminded me of my beloved +Linda, and there were many points of similarity in the two operas. I +found, therefore, that Lucia involved much less original and +interpretive work than most of my new parts; and it was never fatiguing. +Being beautifully high, I liked singing it. My voice, though flexible +and of wide range, always slipped most easily into the far upper +registers. I can recall the positive ache it was to sing certain parts +of Carmen that took me down far too low for comfort. Sometimes too, I +must admit, I used to "cheat" it. We nearly always opened in _Lucia_ +when we began an opera season. Its success was never sensational, but +invariably safe and sure. Sometimes managers would be dubious and +suggest some production more startling as a commencement, but I always +had a deep and well-founded faith in _Lucia_. + +"It never draws a capacity house," I would be told. + +"But it never fails to get a fair one." + +"It never makes a sensation." + +"But it never gets a bad notice." I would say. + +Martha was a light and pleasing part to play. Vocally it taught me very +little--little, that is to say, that I can now recognise, although I am +loath to make such a statement of any _role_. There are so many slight +and obscure ways in which a part can help one, almost unconsciously. The +point that stands out most strikingly in my recollection of _Martha_ is +the rather rueful triumph I had in it with regard to realistic acting. +Everyone who knows the story of Flotow's opera will recall that the +heroine is horribly bored in the first act. She is utterly uninterested, +utterly blasee, utterly listless. Accordingly, so I played the first +act. Later in the opera, when she is in the midst of interesting +happenings and no longer bored, she becomes animated and eager, quite a +different person from the languid great lady in the beginning. So, also, +I played that part. Here came my triumph, although it was a left-handed +compliment aimed with the intention only to criticise and to criticise +severely. One reviewer said, the morning after I had first given my +careful and logical interpretation, that "it was a pity Miss Kellogg had +taken so little pains with the first act. She had played it dully, +stupidly, without interest or animation. Later, however, she brightened +up a little and somewhat redeemed our impression of her work as we had +seen it in the early part of the evening." I felt angry and hurt about +this at the time, yet it pleased me too, for it was a huge tribute even +if the critic did not intend it to be so. + +Although I did sing in _Don Giovanni_ under Grau that year in Boston, I +never really considered it as belonging to that period. I did so much +with this opera in after years--singing both Donna Anna and Zerlina at +various times and winning some of the most notable praise of my +career--that I always instinctively think of it as one of my later and +more mature achievements. I always loved the opera and feel that it is +an invaluable part of every singer's education to have appeared in it. +_The Magic Flute_ never seemed to me to be half so genuinely big or so +inspired. In _Don Giovanni_ Mozart gave us his richest and most complete +flower of operatic work. In our cast were Amodio, whom I had heard with +Piccolomini, and Mme. Medori, my old rival in _Linda_, who had recently +joined the Grau Company. + +[Illustration: =Clara Louise Kellogg as Martha= + +From a photograph by Turner] + +All this time the war was going on and our opera ventures, even at their +best, were nothing to what they had been in the days of peace. It +seemed quite clear for a while that the old favourites would not draw +audiences from among the anxious and sorrowing people. For a big success +we needed something novel, sensational, exceptional. + +On the other side of the world people were all talking of Gounod's new +opera--the one he had sold for only twelve hundred dollars, but which +had made a wonderful hit both in Paris and London. It was said to be +startlingly new; and Max Maretzek, in despair over the many lukewarm +successes we had all had, decided to have a look at the score. The opera +was _Faust_. + +With all my pride, I was terrified and appalled when "the Magnificent" +came to me and abruptly told me that I was to create the part of +Marguerite in America. This was a "large order" for a girl of twenty; +but I took my courage in both hands and resolved to make America proud +of me. I was a pioneer when I undertook Gounod's music and I had no +notion of what to do with it, but my will and my ambition arose to meet +the situation. + +Just here, because of its general bearing on the point, I feel that it +is desirable to quote a paragraph which was written by my old friend--or +was he enemy?--many years later when I had won my measure of success, +"Nym Crinkle" (A. C. Wheeler), and which I have always highly valued: + + There isn't a bit of snobbishness about Kellogg's opinions [he + wrote]. For a woman who has sung everywhere, she retains a very + wholesome opinion of her own country. She always seems to me to be + trying to win two imperishable chaplets, one of which is for her + country. So you see we have got to take our little flags and wave + them whether it is the correct thing or not. And, so far as I am + concerned, I think it is the correct thing.... She has this + tremendous advantage that, when she declares in print that America + can produce its own singers, she is quite capable of going + afterwards upon the stage and proving it! + + + + +CHAPTER VIII + +MARGUERITE + + +Mme. Miolan-Carvalho created Marguerite in Paris, at the Theatre +Lyrique. In London Patti and Titjiens had both sung it before we put it +on in America,--Adelina at Covent Garden and Titjiens at Her Majesty's +Opera House, where I was destined to sing it later. Except for these +productions of _Faust_ across the sea, that opera was still an +unexplored field. I had absolutely nothing to guide me, nothing to help +me, when I began work on it. I, who had been schooled and trained in +"traditions" and their observances since I had first begun to study, +found myself confronted with conditions that had as yet no traditions. I +had to make them for myself. + +Maretzek secured the score during the winter of '62-'63 and then spoke +to me about the music. I worked at the part off and on for nine months, +even while I was singing other parts and taking my summer vacation. But +when the season opened in the autumn of 1863, the performance was +postponed because a certain reaction had set in on the part of the +public. People were beginning to want some sort of distraction and +relaxation from the horrors and anxieties of war, and now began to come +again to hear the old favourites. So Maretzek wanted to wait and put off +his new sensation until he really needed it as a drawing card. + +Then came the news that Anschutz, the German manager, was about to bring +a German company to the Terrace Garden in New York with a fine +_repertoire_ of grand opera, including _Faust_. Of course this settled +the question. Maretzek hurried the new opera into final rehearsal and it +was produced at The Academy of Music on November 25, 1863, when I was +very little more than twenty years old. + +Before I myself say anything about _Faust_, in which I was soon to +appear, I want to quote the views of a leading newspaper of New York +after I had appeared. + + A brilliant audience assembled last night. The opera was _Faust_. + Such an audience ought, in figurative language, "to raise the roof + off" with applause. But with the clumsily written, uninspired + melodies that the solo singers have to declaim there was the least + possible applause. And this is not the fault of the vocalists, for + they tried their best. We except to this charge of dullness the + dramatic love scene where the tolerably broad business concludes + the act. With these facts plain to everyone present we cannot + comprehend the announcement of the success of _Faust_! + +Who was it said "the world goes round with revolutions"? It is a great +truth, whoever said it. Every new step in art, in progress along any +line, has cost something and has been fought for. Nothing fresh or good +has ever come into existence without a convulsion of the old, dried-up +forms. Beethoven was a revolutionist when he threw aside established +musical forms with the _Ninth Symphony_; Wagner was a revolutionist when +he contrived impossible intervals of the eleventh and the thirteenth, +and called them for the first time dissonant harmonies; so, also, was +Gounod when he departed from all accepted operatic forms and +institutions in _Faust_. + +You who have heard _Cari fior_ upon the hand-organs in the street, and +have whistled the _Soldiers' Chorus_ while you were in school; who have +even grown to regard the opera of _Faust_ as old-fashioned and of light +weight, must re-focus your glass a bit and look at Gounod's masterpiece +from the point of view of nearly fifty years ago! It was just as +startling, just as strange, just as antagonistic to our established +musical habit as Strauss and Debussy and Dukas are to some persons +to-day. What is new must always be strange, and what is strange must, +except to a few adventurous souls, prove to be disturbing and, hence, +disagreeable. People say "it is different, therefore it must be wrong." +Even as battle, murder, and sudden death are upsetting to our lives, so +Gounod's bold harmonies, sweeping airs, and curious orchestration were +upsetting to the public ears. + +Not the public alone, either. Though from the first I was attracted and +fascinated by the "new music," it puzzled me vastly. Also, I found it +very difficult to sing. I, who had been accustomed to Linda and Gilda +and Martha, felt utterly at sea when I tried to sing what at that time +seemed to me the remarkable intervals of this strange, new, operatic +heroine, Marguerite. In the simple Italian school one knew approximately +what was ahead. A _recitative_ was a fairly elementary affair. An _aria_ +had no unexpected cadences, led to no striking nor unusual effects. But +in _Faust_ the musical intelligence had an entirely new task and was +exercised quite differently from in anything that had gone before. This +sequence of notes was a new and unlearned language to me, which I had to +master before I could find freedom or ease. But when once mastered, how +the music enchanted me; how it satisfied a thirst that had never been +satisfied by Donizetti or Bellini! Musically, I loved the part of +Marguerite--and I still love it. Dramatically, I confess to some +impatience over the imbecility of the girl. From the first I summarily +apostrophised her to myself as "a little fool!" + +Stupidity is really the keynote of Marguerite's character. She was not +quite a peasant--she and her brother owned their house, showing that +they belonged to the stolid, sound, sheltered burgher class. On the +other hand, she explicitly states to Faust that she is "not a lady and +needs no escort." In short, she was the ideal victim and was selected as +such by Mephistopheles who, whatever else he may have been, was a judge +of character. Marguerite was an easy dupe. She was entirely without +resisting power. She was dull, and sweet, and open to flattery. She +liked pretty things, with no more discrimination or taste than other +girls. She was a well-brought-up but uneducated young person of an +ignorant age and of a stupid class, and innocent to the verge of idiocy. + +I used to try and suggest the peasant blood in Marguerite by little +shynesses and awkwardnesses. After the first meeting with Faust I would +slyly stop and glance back at him with girlish curiosity to see what he +looked like. People found this "business" very pretty and convincing, +but I understand that I did not give the typically Teutonic bourgeois +impression as well as Federici, a German soprano who was heard in +America after me. She was of the class of Gretchen, and doubtless found +it easier to act like a peasant unused to having fine gentlemen speak to +her, than I did. + +There was very little general enthusiasm before the production of +_Faust_. There were so few American musicians then that no one knew nor +cared about the music. Neither was the poem so well read as it was +later. The public went to the opera houses to hear popular singers and +familiar airs. They had not the slightest interest in a new opera from +an artistic standpoint. + +I had never been allowed to read Goethe's poem until I began to study +Marguerite. But even my careful mother was obliged to admit that I would +have to familiarise myself with the character before I interpreted it. +It is doubtful, even then, if I entered fully into the emotional and +psychological grasp of the _role_. All that part of it was with me +entirely mental. I could seize the complete mental possibilities of a +character and work them out intelligently long before I had any +emotional comprehension of them. As a case in point, when I sang Gilda I +gave a perfectly logical presentation of the character, but I am very +sure that I had not the least notion of what the latter part of +_Rigoletto_ meant. Fear, grief, love, courage,--these were emotions that +I could accept and with which I could work; but I was still too immature +to have much conception of the great sex complications that underlay the +opera that I sang so peacefully. And I dare say that one reason why I +played Marguerite so well was because I was so ridiculously innocent +myself. + +Most of the Marguerites whom I have seen make her too sophisticated, too +complicated. The moment they get off the beaten path, they go to +extremes like Calve and Farrar. It is very pleasant to be original and +daring in a part, but anything original or daring in connection with +Marguerite is a little like mixing red pepper with vanilla _blanc +mange_. Nilsson, even, was too--shall I say, _knowing_? It seems the +only word that fits my meaning. Nilsson was much the most attractive of +all the Marguerites I have ever seen, yet she was altogether too +sophisticated for the character and for the period, although to-day I +suppose she would be considered quite mild. Lucca was an absolute little +devil in the part. She was, also, one of the Marguerites who wore black +hair. As for Patti--I have a picture of Adelina as Marguerite in which +she looks like Satan's own daughter, a young and feminine Mephistopheles +to the life. Once I heard _Faust_ in the Segundo Teatro of Naples with +Alice Neilson, and thought she gave a charming performance. She was +greatly helped by not having to wear a wig. A wig, however becoming, and +no matter how well put on, does certainly do something strange to the +expression of a woman's face. This was what I had to have--a wig--and it +was one of the most dreadful difficulties in my preparations for the +great new part. + +[Illustration: =Clara Louise Kellogg as Marguerite, 1865= + +From a photograph by Sarony] + +A wig may sound like a simple requirement. But I wonder if anybody has +any idea how difficult it was to get a good wig in those days. Nobody in +America knew how to make one. There was no blond hair over here and none +could be procured, none being for sale. The poor affair worn by Mme. +Carvalho as Marguerite, illustrates what was then considered a +sufficient wig equipment. It is hardly necessary to add that to my +truth-loving soul no effort was too great to obtain an effect that +should be an improvement on this sort of thing. My own hair was so dark +as to look almost black behind the footlights, and in my mind there was +no doubt that Marguerite must be a blond. To-day _prime donne_ besides +Lucca justify the use of their own dark locks--notably Mme. Eames and +Miss Farrar--but I cannot help suspecting that this comes chiefly from a +wish to be original, to be _different_ at all costs. There is no real +question but that the young German peasant was fair to the flaxen point. +Yet, though I knew how she should be, I found it was simpler as a theory +than as a fact. I tried powders--light brown powder, yellow powder, +finally, gold powder. The latter was little, I imagine, but brass +filings, and it gave the best effect of all my early experiments, +looking, so long as it stayed on my hair, very burnished and sunny. +But--it turned my scalp green! This was probably the verdigris from the +brass filings in the stuff. I was frightened enough to dispense entirely +with the whole gold and green effect; after which I experimented with +all the available wigs, in spite of a popular prejudice against them as +immovable. They were in general composed of hemp rope with about as much +look about them of real hair as--Mme. Carvalho's! I had, finally, to +wait until I could get a wig made in Europe and have it imported. When +it came at last, it was a beauty--although my hair troubles were not +entirely over even then. I had so much hair of my own that all the +braiding and pinning in the world would not eliminate it entirely, and +it had a tendency to stick out in lumps over my head even under the wig, +giving me some remarkable bumps of phrenological development. I will say +that we put it on pretty well in spite of all difficulties, my mother at +last achieving a way of brushing the hair of the wig into my own hair +and combining the two in such a way as to let the real hair act as a +padding and lining to the artificial braids. The result was very good, +but it was, I am inclined to believe, more trouble than it was worth. +Wigs were so rare and, as a rule, so ugly in those days that my big, +blond perruque, that cost nearly $200 (the hair was sold by weight), +caused the greatest sensation. People not infrequently came behind the +scenes and begged to be allowed to examine it. Artists were not nearly +so sacred nor so safe from the public then. Now, it would be impossible +for a stranger to penetrate to a _prima donna's_ dressing-room or hotel +apartment; but we were constantly assailed by the admiring, the critical +and, above all, the curious. + +Of course I did not know what to wear. My old friend Ella Porter was in +Paris at the time and went to see Carvalho in Marguerite, especially on +my account, and sent me rough drawings of her costumes. I did not like +them very well. I next studied von Kaulbach's pictures and those of +other German illustrators, and finally decided on the dress. First, I +chose for the opening act a simple blue and brown frock, such as an +upper-class peasant might wear. Everyone said it ought to be white, +which struck me as singularly out of place. German girls don't wear +frocks that have to be constantly washed. Not even now do they, and I am +certain they had even less laundry work in the period of the story. It +was said that a white gown in the first act would symbolise innocence. +In the face of all comment and suggestion, however, I wore the blue +dress trimmed with brown and it looked very well. Another one of my +points was that I did not try to make Marguerite angelically beautiful. +There is no reason to suppose that she was even particularly pretty. +"Henceforth," says Mephisto to the rejuvenated Faustus, "you will greet +a Helen in every wench you meet!" + +In the church scene I wore grey and, at first, a different shade of +grey in the last act; but I changed this eventually to white because +white looked better when the angels were carrying me up to heaven. + +As for the cut of the dresses, I seem to have been the first person to +wear a bodice that fitted below the waist line like a corset. No living +mortal in America had ever seen such a thing and it became almost as +much of a curiosity as my wonderful golden wig. The theatre costumier +was horrified. She had never cared for my innovations in the way of +costuming, and her tradition-loving Latin soul was shocked to the core +by the new and dreadful make-up I proposed to wear as Marguerite. + +"I make for Grisi," she declared indignantly, "and I _nevair_ see like +dat!" + +Well, I worked and struggled and slaved over every detail. No one else +did. There was no great effort made to have good scenic effects. The +lighting was absurd, and I had to fight for my pot of daisies in the +garden scene. The jewel box I provided myself, and the jewels. I +felt--O, how deeply I felt--that everything in my life, every note I had +sung, every day I had worked, had been merely preparation for this great +and lovely opera. + +Colonel Stebbins, who was anxious, said to Maretzek: + +"Don't you think she had better have a German coach in the part?" + +Maretzek, who had been watching me closely all along, shook his head. + +"Let her alone," he said. "Let her do it her own way." + +So the great night came around. + +There was no public excitement before the production. People knew +nothing about the new opera. On the first night of _Faust_ there was a +good house because, frankly, the public liked me! Nevertheless, in spite +of "me," the house was a little inanimate. The audience felt doubtful. +It was one thing to warm up an old and popular piece; but something +untried was very different! The public had none of the present-day +chivalry toward the first "try-out" of an opera. + +Mazzoleni of the cheese addiction was Faust, and on that first night he +had eaten even more than usual. In fact, he was still eating cheese when +the curtain went up and munched cheese at intervals all through the +laboratory scene. He was a big Italian with a voice as big as himself +and was, in a measure, one of Max Maretzek's "finds." "The Magnificent" +had taken an opera company to Havana when first the war slump came in +operatic affairs, and had made with it a huge success and a wide +reputation. Mazzoleni was one of the leading tenors of that company. He +sang Faust admirably, but dressed it in an atrocious fashion, looking +like a cross between a Jewish rabbi and a Prussian _gene d'arme_. Of +course, he gave no idea of the true age of Faust--the experienced, +mature point of view showing through the outward bloom of his artificial +youth. Very few Fausts do give this; and Mazzoleni suggested it rather +less than most of them. But the public was not enlightened enough to +realise the lack. + +Biachi was Mephistopheles. He was very good and sang the _Calf of Gold_ +splendidly. Yet that solo, oddly enough, never "caught on" with our +houses. Biachi was one of the few artists of my day who gave real +thought and attention to the question of costuming. He took his general +scheme of dress from _Robert le Diable_ and improved on it, and looked +very well indeed. The woman he afterwards married was our contralto, a +Miss Sulzer, an American, who made an excellent Siebel and considered +her work seriously. + +At first everyone was stunned by the new treatment. In ordinary, +accepted operatic form there were certain things to be +expected;--_recitatives_, _andantes_, _arias_, choruses--all neatly laid +out according to rule. In this everything was new, startling, +overthrowing all traditions. About the middle of the evening some of my +friends came behind the scenes to my dressing-room with blank faces. + +"Heavens, Louise," they exclaimed, "what do you do in this opera anyway? +Everyone in the front of the house is asking 'where's the _prima +donna_?'" + +Indeed, an opera in which the heroine has nothing to do until the third +act might well have startled a public accustomed to the old Italian +forms. However, I assured everyone: + +"Don't worry. You'll get more than enough of me before the end of the +evening!" + +The house was not much stirred until the love scene. That was +breathless. We felt more and more that we were beginning to "get them." + +There were no modern effects of lighting; but a calcium was thrown on me +as I stood by the window, and I sang my very, very best. As Mazzoleni +came up to the window and the curtain went down there was a dead +silence. + +Not a hand for ten seconds. Ten seconds is a long time when one is +waiting on the stage. Time and the clock itself seemed to stop as we +stood there motionless and breathless. Maretzek had time to get through +the little orchestra door and up on the stage before the applause came. +We were standing as though paralysed, waiting. We saw Maretzek's pale, +anxious face. The silence held a second longer; then-- + +The house came down. The thunders echoed and beat about our wondering +ears. + +"Success!" gasped Maretzek, "success--success--_success_!" + +Yet read what the critics said about it. The musicians picked it to +pieces, of course, and so did the critics, much as the German reviewers +did Wagner's music dramas. The public came, however, packing the houses +to more than their capacity. People paid seven and eight dollars a seat +to hear that opera, an unheard-of thing in those days when two and three +dollars were considered a very fair price for any entertainment. +Furthermore, only the women occupied the seats on the _Faust_ nights. I +speak in a general way, for there were exceptions. As a rule, however, +this was so, while the men stood up in regiments at the back of the +house. We gave twenty-seven performances of _Faust_ in one season; seven +performances in Boston in four weeks; and I could not help the welcome +knowledge that, in addition to the success of the opera itself, I had +scored a big, personal triumph. + +[Illustration: =Clara Louise Kellogg as Marguerite, 1864= + +From a silhouette by Ida Waugh] + +As I have mentioned, we took wicked liberties with the operas, such as +introducing the _Star Spangled Banner_ and similar patriotic songs into +the middle of Italian scores. I have even seen a highly tragic act of +_Poliuto_ put in between the light and cheery scenes of _Martha_; and I +have myself sung the _Venzano_ waltz at the end of this same _Martha_, +although the real quartette that is supposed to close the opera is much +more beautiful, and the _Clara Louise Polka_ as a finish for _Linda di +Chamounix_! The _Clara Louise Polka_ was written for me by my old +master, Muzio, and I never thought much of it. Nothing could give +anyone so clear an idea of the universal acceptance of this custom of +interpolation as the following criticism, printed during our second +season: + +"The production of _Faust_ last evening by the Maretzek troupe was +excellent indeed. But why, O why, the eternal _Soldiers' Chorus_? Why +this everlasting, tedious march, _when there are so many excellent band +pieces on the market that would fit the occasion better_?" + +As a rule the public were quite satisfied with this chorus. It was +whistled and sung all over the country and never failed to get eager +applause. But no part of the opera ever went so well as the _Salve +dimora_ and the love scene. All the latter part of the garden act went +splendidly although nearly everyone was, or professed to be, shocked by +the frankness of the window episode that closes it. It is a pity those +simple-souled audiences could not have lived to see Miss Geraldine +Farrar draw Faust with her into the house at the fall of the curtain! +There is, indeed, a place for all things. _Faust_ is not the place for +that sort of suggestiveness. It is a question, incidentally, whether any +stage production is; but the argument of that is outside our present +point. + +Dear Longfellow came to see the first performance of _Faust_; and the +next day he wrote a charming letter about it to Mr. James T. Fields of +Boston. Said he: + +"The Margaret was beautiful. She reminded me of Dryden's lines: + + "'So pois'd, so gently she descends from high, + It seems a soft dismission from the sky.'" + + + + +CHAPTER IX + +OPERA COMIQUE + + +To most persons "opera comique" means simply comic opera. If they make +any distinction at all it is to call it "high-class comic opera." As a +matter of fact, tragedy and comedy are hardly farther apart in spirit +than are the rough and farcical stuff that we look upon as comic opera +nowadays and the charming old pieces that formed the true "opera +comique" some fifty years ago. "Opera bouffe" even is many degrees below +"opera comique." Yet "opera bouffe" is, to my mind, something infinitely +superior and many steps higher than modern comic opera. So we have some +delicate differentiations to make when we go investigating in the fields +of light dramatic music. + +In Paris at the Comique they try to keep the older distinction in mind +when selecting their operas for production. There are exceptions to this +rule, as to others, for play-houses that specialise; but for the most +part these Paris managers choose operas that are light. I use the word +advisedly. By _light_ I mean, literally, _not heavy_. Light music, light +drama, does not necessarily mean humorous. It may, on the contrary, be +highly pathetic and charged with sentiment. The only restriction is that +it shall not be expressed in the stentorian orchestration of a +Meyerbeer, nor in the heart-rending tragedy of a Wagner. In theme and +in treatment, in melodies and in text, it must be of delicate fibre, +something easily seized and swiftly assimilated, something intimate, +perfumed, and agreeable, with no more harshness of emotion than of +harmony. + +Judged by this standard such operas as _Martha_, _La Boheme_, even +_Carmen_--possibly, even _Werther_--are not entirely foreign to the +requirements of "opera comique." _Le Donne Curiose_ may be considered as +an almost perfect revival and exemplification of the form. A careful +differentiation discovers that humour, a happy ending, and many +rollicking melodies do not at all make an "opera comique." These +qualities all belong abundantly to _Die Meistersinger_ and to Verdi's +_Falstaff_, yet these great operas are no nearer being examples of +genuine "comique" than _Les Huguenots_ is or _Goetterdaemmerung_. + +It was my good fortune to sing in the space of a year three delightful +_roles_ in "opera comique," each of which I enjoyed hugely. They were +Zerlina in _Fra Diavolo_; Rosina in _Il Barbiere_; and Annetta in +_Crispino e la Comare_. _Fra Diavolo_ was first produced in Italian in +America during the autumn of 1864, the year after I appeared in +Marguerite, and it remained one of our most popular operas throughout +the season of '65-66. I loved it and always had a good time the nights +it was given. We put it on for my "benefit" at the end of the regular +winter season at the Academy. The season closed with the old year and +the "benefit" took place on the 28th of December. The "benefit" custom +was very general in those days. Everybody had one a year and so I had to +have mine, or, at least, Maretzek thought I had to have it. _Fra +Diavolo_ was his choice for this occasion as I had made one of my best +successes in the part of Zerlina, and the opera had been the most liked +in our whole _repertoire_ with the exception of _Faust_. _Faust_ had +remained from the beginning our most unconditional success, our _cheval +de bataille_, and never failed to pack the house. + +I don't know quite why that _Fra Diavolo_ night stands out so happily +and vividly in my memory. I have had other and more spectacular +"benefits"; but that evening there seemed to be the warmest and most +personal of atmospheres in the old Academy. The audience was full of +friends and, what with the glimpses I had of these familiar faces and my +loads of lovely flowers and the kindly, intimate enthusiasm that greeted +my appearance, I felt as if I were at a party and not playing a +performance at all. I had to come out again and again; and finally +became so wrought up that I was nearly in tears. + +As a climax I was entirely overcome when I suddenly turned to find +Maretzek standing beside me in the middle of the stage, smiling at me in +a friendly and encouraging manner. I had not the slightest idea what his +presence there at that moment meant. The applause stopped instantly. +Whereupon "Max the Magnificent" made a little speech in the quick hush, +saying charming and overwhelming things about the young girl whose +musical beginning he had watched and who in a few years had reached "a +high pinnacle in the world of art. The young girl"--he went on to +say--"who at twenty-one was the foremost _prima donna_ of America." + +"And now, my dear Miss Kellogg," he wound up with, holding out to me a +velvet case, "I am instructed by the stockholders of the Opera Company +to hand you this, to remind you of their admiration and their pride in +you!" + +I took the case; and the house cheered and cheered as I lifted out of it +a wonderful flashing diamond bracelet and diamond ring. Of course I +couldn't speak. I could hardly say "thank you." I just ran off with eyes +and heart overflowing to the wings where my mother was waiting for me. + +The bracelet and the ring are among the dearest things I possess. Their +value to me is much greater than any money could be, for they symbolise +my young girl's sudden comprehension of the fact that I had made my +countrymen proud of me! That seemed like the high-water mark; the finest +thing that could happen. + +Annetta was my second creation. There could hardly be imagined a greater +contrast than she presented to the part of Marguerite. Gretchen was all +the virtues in spite of her somewhat spectacular career; gentleness and +sweetness itself. Annetta, the ballad singer, was quite the opposite. I +must say that I really enjoyed making myself shrewish, sparkling, and +audacious. Perhaps I thus took out in the lighter _roles_ I sang many of +my own suppressed tendencies. Although I lived such an essentially +ungirlish life, I was, nevertheless, full of youthful feeling and high +spirits, so, when I was Annetta or Zerlina or Rosina, I had a flying +chance to "bubble" just a little bit. Merriment is one of the finest and +most helpful emotions in the world and I dare say we all have the +possibilities of it in us, one way or another. But it is a shy sprite +and does not readily come to one's call. I often think that the art, or +the ability,--on the stage or off it--which makes people truly and +innocently gay, is very high in the scale of human importance. +Personally, I have never been happier than when I was frolicking through +some entirely light-weight opera, full of whims and quirks and laughing +music. I used to feel intimately in touch with the whole audience then, +as though they and I were sharing some exquisite secret or delicious +joke; and I would reach a point of ease and spontaneity which I have +never achieved in more serious work. + +_Crispino_ had made a tremendous hit in Paris the year before when +Malibran had sung Annetta with brilliant success. It has been sometimes +said that Grisi created the _role_ of Annetta in America; but I still +cling to the claim of that distinction for myself. The composers of the +opera were the Rice brothers. I do not know of any other case where an +opera has been written fraternally; and it was such a highly successful +little opera that I wish I knew more about the two men who were +responsible for it. All that I remember clearly is that they both of +them knew music thoroughly and that one of them taught it as a +profession. + +Our first Cobbler in _Crispino e la Comare_ ("The Cobbler and the +Fairy") was Rovere, a good Italian buffo baritone. He was one of those +extraordinary artists whose art grows and increases with time and, by +some law of compensation, comes more and more to take the place of mere +voice. Rovere was in his prime in 1852 when he sang in America with Mme. +Alboni. Later, when he sang with me, a few of the New York critics +remembered him and knew his work and agreed that he was "as good as +ever." His voice--no. But his art, his method, his delightful +manner--these did not deteriorate. On the contrary, they matured and +ripened. Our second Cobbler, Ronconi, was even more remarkable. He was, +I believe, one of the finest Italian baritones that ever lived, and he +succeeded in getting a degree of genuine high comedy out of the part +that I have never seen surpassed. He used to tell of himself a story of +the time when he was singing in the Royal Opera of Petersburg. The +Czar--father of the one who was murdered--said to him once: + +"Ronconi, I understand that you are so versatile that you can express +tragedy with one side of your face when you are singing and comedy with +the other. How do you do it?" + +"Your Majesty," rejoined Ronconi, "when I sing _Maria de Rohan_ +to-morrow night I will do myself the honour of showing you." + +And, accordingly, the next evening he managed to turn one side of his +face, grim as the Tragic Mask, to the audience, while the other, which +could be seen from only the Imperial Box, was excessively humorous and +cheerful. The Czar was greatly amused and delighted with the exhibition. + +Once in London, Santley was talking with me about this great baritone +and said: + +"Ronconi did something with a phrase in the sextette of _Lucia_ that I +have gone to hear many and many a night. I never could manage to catch +it or comprehend how he gave so much power and expression to + +[Illustration: Musical notation; Ah! e mio san-gue, l'ho-tra-di-ta!] + +Ronconi was deliciously amusing, also, as the Lord in _Fra Diavolo_. He +sang it with me the first time it was ever done here in Italian, when +Theodor Habelmann was our Diavolo. Though he was a round-faced German, +he was so dark of skin and so finely built that he made up excellently +as an Italian; and he had been thoroughly trained in the splendid school +of German light opera. He was really picturesque, especially in a +wonderful fall he made from one precipice to another. We were not +accustomed to falls on the stage over here, and had never seen anything +like it. Ronconi sang with me some years later, as well, when I gave +English opera throughout the country, and I came to know him quite well. +He was a man of great elegance and decorum. + +"You know," he said to me once, "I'm a sly dog--a very sly dog indeed! +When I sing off the key on the stage or do anything like that, I always +turn and look in an astounded manner at the person singing with me as if +to say 'what on earth did you do that for?' and the other artist, +perfectly innocent, invariably looks guilty! O, I'm a _very_ sly dog!" + +_Don Pasquale_ was another of our "opera comique" ventures, as well as +_La Dame Blanche_ and _Masaniello_. It was a particularly advantageous +choice at the time because it required neither chorus nor orchestra. We +sang it with nothing but a piano by way of accompaniment; which possibly +was a particularly useful arrangement for us when we became short of +cash, for we--editorially, or, rather, managerially speaking--were +rather given in those early seasons to becoming suddenly "hard up," +especially when to the poor operatic conditions, engendered +spasmodically by the war news, was added the wet blanket of Lent which, +in those days, was observed most rigidly. + +Of the three _roles_, Zerlina, Rosina, and Annetta, I always preferred +that of Rosina. It was one of my best _roles_, the music being +excellently placed for me. _Il Barbiere_ had led the school of "opera +comique" for years, but soon, one after the other, the new +operas--notably _Crispino_--were hailed as the legitimate successor of +_Il Barbiere_, and their novelty gave them a drawing power in advance of +their rational value. In addition to my personal liking for the _role_ +of Rosina, I always felt that, although the other operas were charming +in every way, they musically were not quite in the class with Rossini's +masterpiece. The light and delicate qualities of this form of operatic +art have never been given so perfectly as by him. I wish _Il Barbiere_ +were more frequently heard. + +Yet I was fond of _Fra Diavolo_ too. I was forever working at the _role_ +of Zerlina or, rather, playing at it, for the old "opera comique" was +never really work to me. It was all infectious and inspiring; the music +full of melody; the story light and pretty. Many of the critics said +that I ought to specialise in comedy, cut out my tragic and romantic +_roles_, and attempt even lighter music and characterisation than +Zerlina. People seemed particularly to enjoy my "going to bed" scene. +They praised my "neatness and daintiness" and found the whole picture +very pretty and attractive. I used to take off my skirt first, shake it +well, hang it on a nail, then discover a spot and carefully rub it out. +That little bit of "business" always got a laugh--I do not quite know +why. Then I would take off my bodice dreamily as I sang: +"To-morrow--yes, to-morrow I am to be married!" + +[Illustration: Musical notation; Si, do-ma-ni, Si, do-ma-ni sa-rem +ma-ri-to e moghi,] + +One night while I was carrying the candle in that scene a gust of wind +from the wings made the flame gutter badly and a drop of hot grease fell +on my hand. Instinctively I jumped and shook my hand without thinking +what I was doing. There was a perfect gale of laughter from the house. +After that, I always pretended to drop the grease on my hand, always +gave the little jump, and always got my laugh. + +As I say, nearly everybody liked that scene. I was myself so girlish +that it never struck anybody as particularly suggestive or immodest +until one night an old couple from the country came to see the opera and +created a mild sensation by getting up and going out in the middle of +it. The old man was heard to say, as he hustled his meek spouse up the +aisle of the opera house: + +"Mary, we'd better get out of this! It may be all right for city folks, +but it's no place for us. We may be green; but, by cracky,--we're +_decent_!" + + + + +CHAPTER X + +ANOTHER SEASON AND A LITTLE MORE SUCCESS + + +One of the pleasant affairs that came my way that year was Sir Morton +Peto's banquet in October. Sir Morton was a distinguished Englishman who +represented big railway interests in Great Britain and who was then +negotiating some new and important railroading schemes on this side of +the water. There were two hundred and fifty guests; practically +everybody present, except my mother and myself, standing for some large +financial power of the United States. I felt much complimented at being +invited, for it was at a period when very great developments were in the +making. America was literally teeming with new projects and plans and +embryonic interests. + +The banquet was given at Delmonico's, then at Fifth Avenue and +Fourteenth Street, and the rooms were gorgeous in their drapings of +American and English flags. The war was about drawing to its close and +patriotism was at white heat. The influential Americans were in the mood +to wave their banners and to exchange amenities with foreign potentates. +Sir Morton was a noted capitalist and his banquet was a sort of "hands +across the sea" festival. He used, I recall, to stop at the Clarendon, +now torn down and its site occupied by a commercial "sky scraper," but +then the smart hostelry of the town. + +I sang that night after dinner. My services had not been engaged +professionally, so, when Sir Morton wanted to reward me lavishly, I of +course did not care to have him do so. We were still so new to _prime +donne_ in New York that we had no social code or precedent to refer to +with regard to them; and I preferred, personally, to keep the episode on +a purely friendly and social basis. I was an invited guest only who had +tried to do her part for the entertainment of the others. I was +honoured, too. It was an experience to which anyone could look back with +pride and pleasure. + +But, being English, Sir Morton Peto had a solution and, within a day or +two, sent me an exquisite pearl and diamond bracelet. It is odd how much +more delicately and graciously than Americans all foreigners--of +whatever nationality indeed--can relieve a situation of awkwardness and +do the really considerate and appreciative thing which makes such a +situation all right. I later found the same tactful qualities in the +Duke of Newcastle who, with his family, were among the closest friends I +had in England. Indeed, I was always much impressed with the good taste +of English men and women in this connection. + +An instance of the American fashion befell me during the winter of +'63-'64 on the occasion of a big reception that was given by the father +of Brander Matthews. I was invited to go and asked to sing, my host +saying that if I would not accept a stipulated price he would be only +too glad to make me a handsome present of some kind. The occasion turned +out to be very unfortunate and unpleasant altogether, both at the time +and with regard to the feeling that grew out of it. I happened to wear a +dress that was nearly new, a handsome and expensive gown, and this was +completely ruined by a servant upsetting melted ice cream over it. My +host and hostess were all concern, saying that, as they were about to go +to Paris, they would buy me a new one. I immediately felt that if they +did this, they would consider the dress as an equivalent for my singing +and that I should never hear anything more of the handsome present. Of +course I said nothing of this, however, to anyone. Well--they went to +Paris. Days and weeks passed. I heard nothing from them about either +dress or present. I went to Europe. They called on me in Paris. In the +course of time we all came home to America; and the night after my +return I received a long letter and a set of Castilian gold jewelry, +altogether inadequate as an equivalent. There was nothing to do but to +accept it, which I did, and then proceeded to give away the ornaments as +I saw fit. The whole affair was uncomfortable and a discredit to my +entertainers. Not only had I lost a rich dress through the carelessness +of one of their servants, but I received a very tardy and inadequate +recompense for my singing. I had refused payment in money because it was +the custom to do so. But I was a professional singer, and I had been +asked to the reception as a professional entertainer. This, however, I +must add, is the most flagrant case that has ever come under my personal +notice of an American host or hostess failing to "make good" at the +expense of a professional. + +Well--from time to time after Sir Morton's banquet, I sang in concert. +On one occasion I replaced Euphrosyne Parepa--she had not then married +Carl Rosa--at one of the Bateman concerts. The Meyerbeer craze was then +at its height. Good, sound music it was too, if a little brazen and +noisy. _L'Etoile du Nord_ (I don't understand why we always speak of it +as _L'Etoile du Nord_ when we never once sang it in French) had been +sung in America by my old idol, Mme. de la Grange, nearly ten years +before I essayed Catarina. My _premiere_ in the part was given in +Philadelphia; but almost immediately we came back to New York for the +spring opera season and I sang _The Star_ as principal attraction. Later +on I sang it in Boston. + +It was always good fun playing in Boston, for the Harvard boys adored +"suping" and we had our extra men almost without the asking. They were +such nice, clean, enthusiastic chaps! The reason why I remember them so +clearly is that I never can forget how surprised I was when, in the boat +at the end of the first act of _The Star of the North_, I chanced to +look down and caught sight of Peter Barlow (now Judge Barlow) grinning +up at me from a point almost underneath me on the stage, and how I +nearly fell out of the boat! + +We had difficulty in finding a satisfactory Prascovia. Prascovia is an +important soprano part, and had to be well taken. At last Albites +suggested a pupil of his. This was Minnie Hauck. Prascovia was sung at +our first performance by Mlle. Bososio who was not equal to the part. +Minnie Hauck came into the theatre and sang a song of Meyerbeer's, and +we knew that we had found our Prascovia. Her voice was very light but +pleasing and well-trained, for Albites was a good teacher. She +undoubtedly would add value to our cast. So she made her _debut_ as +Prascovia, although she afterwards became better known to the public as +one of the most famous of the early Carmens. Indeed, many people +believed that she created that _role_ in America although, as a matter +of fact, I sang Carmen several months before she did. As Prascovia she +and I had a duet together, very long and elaborate, which we introduced +after the tent scene and which made an immense hit. We always received +many flowers after it--I, particularly, to be quite candid. By this time +I was called The Flower Prima Donna because of the quantities of +wonderful blossoms that were sent to me night after night. When singing +_The Star of the North_ there was one bouquet that I was sure of getting +regularly from a young man who always sent the same kind of flowers. I +never needed a card on them or on the box to know from whom they came. +Miss Hauck used to help me pick up my bouquets. The only trouble was +that every one she picked up she kept! As a rule I did not object, and, +anyway, I might have had difficulty in proving that she had appropriated +my flowers after she had taken the cards off: but one night she included +in her general haul my own special, unmistakable bouquet! I recognised +it, saw her take it, but, as there was no card, had the greatest +difficulty in getting it away from her. I did, though, in the end. + +Minnie Hauck was very pushing and took advantage of everything to +forward and help herself. She never had the least apprehension about the +outcome of anything in which she was engaged and, in this, she was +extremely fortunate, for most persons cursed with the artistic +temperament are too sensitive to feel confident. She was clever, too. +This is another exception, for very few big singers are clever. I think +it is Mme. Maeterlinck who has made use of the expression "too clever to +sing well." I am convinced that there is quite a truth in it as well as +a sarcasm. Wonderful voices usually are given to people who are, +intrinsically, more or less nonentities. One cannot have everything in +this world, and people with brains are not obliged to sing! But Minnie +Hauck was a singer and she was also clever. If I remember rightly, she +married some scientific foreign baron and lived afterwards in Lucerne. + +Once I heard of a soldier who was asked to describe Waterloo and who +replied that his whole impression of the battle consisted of a mental +picture of the kind of button that was on the coat of the man in front +of him. It is so curiously true that one's view of important events is +often a very small one,--especially when it comes to a matter of mere +memory. Accordingly, I find my amethysts are almost my most vivid +recollection in connection with _L'Etoile du Nord_. I wanted a set of +really handsome stage jewelry for Catarina. In fact, I had been looking +for such a set for some time. There are many _roles_, Violetta for +instance, for which rich jewels are needed. My friends were on the +lookout for me, also, and it was while I was preparing for _The Star of +the North_ that a man I knew came hurrying in with a wonderful tale of a +set of imitation amethysts that he had discovered, and that were, he +thought, precisely what I was looking for. + +"The man who has them," he told me, "bought them at a bankrupt sale for +ninety-six dollars and they are a regular white elephant to him. Of +course, they are suitable only for the stage; and he has been hunting +for months for some actress who would buy them. You'd better take a look +at them, anyhow." + +I had the set sent to me and, promptly, went wild over it. The stones, +that ranged from the size of a bean to that of a large walnut, appeared +to be as perfect as genuine amethysts, and the setting--genuine soft, +old, worked gold--was really exquisite. There were seventy stones in +the whole set, which included a necklace, a bracelet, a large brooch, +ear-rings and a most gorgeous tiara. The colour of the gems was very +deep and lovely, bordering on a claret tone rather than violet. The +crown was apparently symbolic or suggestive of some great house. It was +made of roses, shamrocks, and thistles, and every piece in the set was +engraved with a small hare's head. I wish I knew heraldry and could tell +to whom the lovely ornaments had first belonged. Of course I bought +them, paying one hundred and fifty dollars for the set, which the man +was glad enough to get. I wore it in _The Star_ and in other operas, and +one day I took it down to Tiffany's to have it cleaned and repaired. + +The man there, who knew me, examined it with interest. + +"It will cost you one hundred and seventy dollars," he informed me. + +"What!" I gasped. "That is more than the whole set is worth!" + +He looked at me as if he thought I must be a little crazy. + +"Miss Kellogg," he said, "if you think that, I don't believe you know +what you've really got. What do you think this jewelry is really worth?" + +"I don't know," I admitted. "What do you think it is worth?" + +"Roughly speaking," he replied, "I should say about six thousand +dollars. The workmanship is of great value, and every one of the stones +is genuine." + +Through all these years, therefore, I have been fearful that some Rip +Van Winkle claimant might rise up and take my beloved amethysts away +from me! + +My general impressions of this period of my life include those of the +two great pianists, Thalberg and Gottschalk. They were both wonderful, +although I always admired Gottschalk more than the former. Thalberg had +the greater technique; Gottschalk the greater charm. Sympathetically, +the latter musician was better equipped than the former. The very +simplest thing that Gottschalk played became full of fascination. +Thalberg was marvellously perfect as to his method; but it was +Gottschalk who could "play the birds off the trees and the heart out of +your breast," as the Irish say. Thalberg's work was, if I may put it so, +mental; Gottschalk's was temperamental. + +Gottschalk was one of the first big pianists to come to New York +touring. He was from New Orleans, having been born there in the French +Quarter, and spoke only French, like so many persons from that city up +to thirty years ago. But he had been educated abroad and always ranked +as a foreign artist. He must have been a Jew, from his name. Certainly, +he looked like one. He had peculiarly drooping eyelids and was +considered to be very attractive. He wrote enchanting Spanish-sounding +songs; and gave the banjo quite a little dignity by writing a piece +imitating it, much to my delight, because of my fondness for that +instrument. He was in no way a classical pianist. Thalberg was. Indeed, +they were altogether different types. Thalberg was nothing like so +interesting either as a personality or as a musician, although he was +much more scholarly than his predecessor. I say predecessor, because +Thalberg followed Gottschalk in the touring proposition. Gottschalk +began his work before I began mine, and I first sang with him in my +second season. He and I figured in the same concerts not only in those +early days but also much later. + +[Illustration: =Gottschalk= + +Photograph by Case & Getchell] + +Gottschalk was a gay deceiver and women were crazy about him. Needless +to say, my mother never let me have anything to do with him except +professionally. He was pursued by adoring females wherever he went and +inundated with letters from girls who had lost their hearts to his +exquisite music and magnetic personality. I shall always remember +Gottschalk and Brignoli comparing their latest love letters from matinee +girls. Some poor, silly maiden had written to Gottschalk asking for a +meeting at any place he would appoint. Said Gottschalk: + +"It would be rather fun to make a date with her at some absurd, +impossible place,--say a ferry-boat, for instance." + +"Nonsense," said Brignoli, "a ferry-boat is not romantic enough. She +wouldn't think of coming to a ferry-boat to meet her ideal!" + +"She would come anywhere," declared Gottschalk, not at all +vaingloriously, but as one stating a simple truth. "I'll make her come; +and you shall come too and see her do it!" + +"Will you bet?" asked Brignoli. + +"I certainly will," replied Gottschalk. + +They promptly put up quite a large sum of money and Gottschalk won. That +dear, miserable goose of a girl did go to the ferry-boat to meet the +illustrious pianist of her adoration, and Brignoli was there to see. If +only girls knew as much as I do about the way in which their stage +heroes take their innocent adulation, and the wicked light-heartedness +with which they make fun of it! But they do not; and the only way to +teach them, I suppose, is to let them learn by themselves, poor little +idiots. + +As I look back I feel a continual sense of outrage that I mixed so +little with the people and affairs that were all about me; interesting +people and important affairs. My dear mother adored me. It is strange +that we can never even be adored in the particular fashion in which we +would prefer to be adored! My mother's way was to guard me eternally; +she would have called it protecting me. But, really, it was a good deal +like shutting me up in a glass case, and it was a great pity. My mother +was an extraordinarily fine woman, upright as the day and of an unusual +mentality. Uncompromising she was, not unnaturally, according to her +heritage of race and creed and generation. Yet I sometimes question if +she were as uncompromising as she used to seem to me, for was not the +life she led with me, as well as her acceptance of it in the beginning, +one long compromise between her nature and the actualities? At any rate, +where she seemed to draw the line was in keeping me as much as possible +aloof from my inevitable associates. I led a deadly dull and virtuous +life, of necessity. To be sure, I might have been just as virtuous or +even more so had I been left to my own devices and judgments; but I +contend that such a life is not up to much when it is compulsory. +Personal responsibility is necessary to development. Perhaps I reaped +certain benefits from my mother's close chaperonage. Certainly, if there +were benefits about it, I reaped them. But I very much question its +ultimate advantage to me, and I confess freely that one of the things I +most regret is the innocent, normal coquetry which is the birthright of +every happy girl and which I entirely missed. It is all very well to be +carefully guarded and to be made the archetype of American virtue on the +stage, but there is a great deal of entirely innocuous amusement that I +might have had and did not have, which I should have been better off +for having. My mother could hardly let me hold a friendly conversation +with a man--much less a flirtation. + +[Illustration: =Jane Elizabeth Crosby= + +Mother of Clara Louise Kellogg + +From a tintype] + + + + +CHAPTER XI + +THE END OF THE WAR + + +The Civil War was now coming to its close. Abraham Lincoln was the hero +of the day, as he has been of all days since, in America. The White +House was besieged with people from all walks of life, persistently +anxious to shake hands with the War President, and he used to have to +stand, for incredible lengths of time, smiling and hand-clasping. But he +was ever a fine economist of energy and he flatly refused to talk. No +one could get out of him more than a smile, a nod, or possibly a brief +word of greeting. + +One man made a bet that he would have some sort of conversation with the +President while he was shaking hands with him. + +"No, you won't," said the man to whom he was speaking, "I'll bet you +that you won't get more than two words out of him!" + +"I bet I will," said the venturesome one; and he set off to try his +luck. + +He went to the White House reception and, when his turn came and his +hand was in the huge presidential grasp, he began to talk hastily and +volubly, hoping to elicit some response. Lincoln listened a second, +gazing at him gravely with his deep-set eyes, and then he laid an +enormous hand in a loose, wrinkled white glove across his back. + +"Don't dwell!" said he gently to his caller; and shoved him along, +amiably but relentlessly, with the rest of the line. So the man got only +his two words after all. + +One week before the President was murdered I was in Washington and sat +in the exact place in which he sat when he was shot. It was the same +box, the same chair, and on Friday too,--one week to the day and hour +before the tragedy. When I heard the terrible news I was able to picture +exactly what it had been like. I could see just the jump that Booth must +have had to make to get away. I never knew Wilkes Booth personally nor +saw him act, but I have several times seen him leaving his theatre after +a performance, with a raft of adoring matinee girls forming a more or +less surreptitous guard afar off. He was a tremendously popular idol and +strikingly handsome. Even after his wicked crime there were many women +who professed a sort of hysterical sympathy and pity for him. Somebody +has said that there would always be at least one woman at the death-bed +of the worst criminal in the world if she could get to it; and there +were hundreds of the sex who would have been charmed to watch beside +Booth's, bad as he was and crazy into the bargain. It is a mysterious +thing, the fascination that criminals have for some people, particularly +women. Perhaps it is fundamentally a respect for accomplishment; +admiration for the doing of something, good or evil, that they would not +dare to do themselves. + +We had all gone to Chicago for our spring opera season and were ready to +open, when the tragic tidings came and shut down summarily upon every +preparation for amusement of any kind. Every city in the Union went into +mourning for the man whom the country idolised; of whom so many people +spoke as _our_ "Abraham Lincoln." Perhaps it was because of this +universal and almost personal affection that the authorities did such an +odd thing--or, at least, it struck me as odd,--with his body. He was +taken all over the country and "lay-in-state," as it is called, in +different court houses in different states. + +I was stopping in the Grand Pacific Hotel when the body was brought to +Chicago, and my windows overlooked the grounds of the Court House of +that city. Business was entirely suspended, not simply for a few +memorial moments as was the case when President McKinley was killed, but +for many hours during the "lying-in-state." This, however, was probably +only partly official. Everyone was so afraid that he would not be able +to see the dead hero's face that business men all over the town +suspended occupation, closed shops and offices, and made a pilgrimage to +the Court House. All citizens were permitted to go into the building and +look upon the Martyr President, and vast numbers availed themselves of +the privilege--waited all night, indeed, to claim it. From sunset to +sunrise the grounds were packed with a silent multitude. The only sound +to be heard was the shuffling echo of feet as one person after another +went quietly into the Court House, shuffle, shuffle, shuffle,--I can +hear it yet. There was not a word uttered. There was no other sound than +the sound of the passing feet. One thing that must have been official +was that, for quite a long time, not a wheel in the city was allowed to +turn. This was an impressive tribute to a man whom the whole American +nation loved and counted a friend. + +The only diversion in the whole melancholy solemnity of it all was the +picking of pockets. The crowds were enormous, the people in a mood of +sentiment and off their guard, and the army of crooks did a thriving +business. It is a sickening thing to realise that in all hours of great +national tragedy or terror there will always be people degenerate enough +to take advantage of the suffering and ruin about them. Burning or +plague-stricken cities have to be put under military law; and it is said +that to the multiplied horrors of the San Francisco earthquake the +people look back with a shudder to the ghastly system of looting which +prevailed afterwards in the stricken city. + +Every imaginable kind of flowers were sent to the dead President, +splendid wreaths and bouquets from distinguished personages, and many +little cheap humble nosegays from poor people who had loved him even +from afar and wanted to honour him in some simple way. No man has ever +been loved more in his death than was Abraham Lincoln. + +I sent a cross of white camellias. I do not like camellias when they are +sent to me, because they always seem such heartless, soulless flowers +for living people to wear. But just for that reason, just because they +are the most perfect and the most impersonal of all flowers that grow +and blossom they seem right and suitable for death. Ever since that time +I have associated white camellias with the thought of Abraham Lincoln +and with my strange, impressive memory of those days in Chicago. + +However, nations go on even after the beloved rulers of them are laid in +the ground. Our Chicago season opened soon--I in Lucia--and everything +went along as though nothing had happened. The only difference was that +the end of the war had made the nation a little drunk with excitement +and our performances went with a whirl. + +Finally the victorious generals, Lieutenant-General Grant and +Major-General Sherman, came to Chicago as the guests of the city and we +gave a gala performance for them. As the _Daughter of the Regiment_ had +been our choice to inaugurate the commencement of the great conflict, so +the _Daughter of the Regiment_ was also our choice to commemorate its +close. The whole opera house was gay with flags and flowers and +decorations, and the generals were given the two stage boxes, one on +each side of the house. The audience began to come in very early; and it +was a huge one. The curtain had not yet risen--indeed, I was in my +dressing-room still making-up--when I heard the orchestra break into +_See the Conquering Hero Comes_, and then the roof nearly came off with +the uproar of the people cheering. I sent to find out what was +happening, and was told that General Grant had just entered his box. We +were ridiculously excited behind the scenes, all of us; even the +foreigners. They were such emotional creatures that they flung +themselves into a mood of general excitement even when it was based on a +patriotism to which they were aliens. The wild and jubilant state of the +audience infected us. I had felt something of the same emotion in +Washington at the beginning of the war, when we had done _Figlia_ +before, to the frantically enthusiastic houses there. Yet that was +different. Mingled with that feeling there had been a grimness and pain +and apprehension. Now everyone was triumphant and happy and emotionally +exultant. + +General Sherman came into his box early in the first act and the +orchestra had to stop while the house cheered him, and cheered again. +Sherman was always just a bit theatrical and loved applause, and he, +with his staff, stood bowing and smiling and bowing and smiling. The +whole proceeding took almost the form of a great military reception. As +I look back at it, I think one of the moments of the evening was created +by our basso, Susini. Susini--himself a soldier of courage and +experience, a veteran of the Italian rebellion--made his entrance, +walked forward, stood, faced one General after the other and saluted +each with the most military exactness. They were both plainly delighted; +while the house, in the mood to be moved by little touches, broke into +the heartiest applause. + +I had a moment of triumph also when we sang the _Rataplan, rataplan_. +Since the early hit I had made with my drum I always played it as the +Daughter of the Regiment, and when we came to this scene I directed the +drum first toward one box and then toward the other, as I gave the +rolling salute. The audience went mad again; and again the orchestra had +to stop until the clapping and the hurrahs had subsided. It may not have +been a great operatic performance but it was a great evening! Such +moments written about afterwards in cold words lose their thrill. They +bring up no pictures except to those who have lived them. But on a night +such as that, one's heart seems like a musical instrument, wonderfully +played upon. + +Between the acts the two distinguished officers came behind the scenes +and were introduced to the artists, making pleasant speeches to us all. +Immediately, I liked best the personality of General Grant. There was +nothing the least spectacular or egotistical about him; he was +absolutely simple and quiet and unaffected. He bewildered me by +apologising courteously for not being able to shake hands with me. + +"You have had an accident to your hand!" I exclaimed. + +"Not exactly an accident," he said, smiling. "I think I may call it +design!" + +He explained that he had shaken hands with so many people that he could +not use his right hand for a while. He held it out for me to see and, +sure enough, it was terribly swollen and inflamed and must have been +very painful. + +The great evening came to an end at last. We were not sorry on the whole +for, thrilling as it had been, it had been also very tiring. I wonder if +such mad, national excitement could come to people to-day? I cannot +quite imagine an opera performance being conducted on similar lines in +the Metropolitan Opera House. Perhaps, however, it is not because we are +less enthusiastic but because our events are less dramatic. + +In recalling General Sherman I find myself thinking of him chiefly in +the later years of my acquaintance with him. After that Chicago night, +he never failed to look me up when I sang in any city where he was and +we grew to be good friends. He was always quite enthusiastic about +operatic music; much more so than General Grant. He confided to me once +that above all songs he especially disliked _Marching through Georgia_, +and that, naturally, was the song he was constantly obliged to listen +to. People, of course, thought it must be, or ought to be, his favourite +melody. But he hated the tune as well as the words. He was desperately +tired of the song and, above all, he detested what it stood for, and +what it forced him to recall. + +[Illustration: =General William Tecumseh Sherman, 1877= + +From a photograph by Mora] + +Like nearly all great soldiers, Sherman was naturally a gentle person +and saddened by war. Everything connected with fighting brought to him +chiefly the recollection of its horrors and tragedies and always filled +him with pain. So it was that his real heart's preference was for such +simple, old-fashioned, plantation-evoking, country-smelling airs as _The +Little Old Log Cabin in the Lane_. One day during his many visits to our +home he asked me to sing this and, when I informed him that I could not +because I did not know and did not have the words, he said he would send +them to me. This he did; and I took pains after that never to forget his +preference. + +[Illustration: Musical notation; In de lit-tle old log cab-in in de +lane.] + +One night when I was singing in a concert in Washington, I caught sight +of him sitting quietly in the audience. He did not even know that I had +seen him. Presently the audience wanted an encore and, as was my custom +in concerts, I went to the piano to play my own accompaniment. I turned +and, meeting the General's eyes, smiled at him. Then I sang his beloved +_Little Old Log Cabin_. My reward was his beaming expression of +appreciation. He was easily touched by such little personal tributes. + +"Why on earth did you sing that queer old song, Louise," someone asked +me when I was back behind the scenes again. + +"It was an official request," I replied mysteriously. The end of the war +was a strenuous time for the nation; and for actors and singers among +others. The combination of work and excitement sent me up to New +Hartford in sore need of my summer's rest. But I think, of all the many +diverse impressions which that spring made upon my memory, the one that +I still carry with me most unforgetably, is a _sound_:--the sound of +those shuffling feet, shuffle, shuffle, shuffle,--in the Court House +grounds in Chicago: a sound like a great sea or forest in a wind as the +people of the nation went in to look at their President whom they loved +and who was dead. + + + + +CHAPTER XII + +AND SO--TO ENGLAND! + + +The following season was one of concerts and not remarkably enjoyable. +In retrospect I see but a hurried jumble of work until our decision, in +the spring, to go to England. + +For two or three years I had wanted to try my wings on the other side of +the world. Several matters had interfered and made it temporarily +impossible, chiefly an unfortunate business agreement into which I had +entered at the very outset of my professional career. During the second +season that I sang, an _impresario_, a Jew named Ulman, had made me an +offer to go abroad and sing in Paris and elsewhere. Being very eager to +forge ahead, it seemed like a satisfactory arrangement, and I signed a +contract binding myself to sing under Ulman's management _if I went +abroad_ any time in three years. When I came to think it over, I +regretted this arrangement exceedingly. I felt that the _impresario_ was +not the best one for me. To say the least, I came to doubt his ability. +At any rate, because of this complication, I voluntarily tied myself up +to Max Maretzek for several years and felt it a release as now I could +not tour under Ulman even if I cared to. By 1867, however, my Ulman +contract had expired and I was free to do as I pleased. I had no +contract abroad to be sure, nor any very definite prospects, but I +determined to go to England on a chance and see what developed. At any +rate I should have the advantage of being able to consult foreign +teachers and to improve my method. The uncertainties of my professional +outlook did not disturb me in the least. Indeed, what I really wanted +was, like any other girl, to go abroad, as the gentleman in the +old-fashioned ballad says: + + ... to go abroad; + To go strange countries for to see! + +I greatly enjoyed the voyage as I have enjoyed every voyage that I have +made since, even including the channel crossing when everyone else on +board was seasick, and also the one in which I was nearly ship-wrecked +off the Irish coast. I have crossed the Atlantic between sixty and +seventy times and every trip has given me pleasure of one kind or +another. I am never nervous when travelling. Like poor Jack, I have a +vague but sure conviction that nothing will happen to _me_; that I am +protected by "a sweet little cherub that sits up aloft!" + +At Queenstown, where we touched before going on to our regular port of +Liverpool, a man came on board asking for Miss Clara Louise Kellogg. He +was from Jarrett, the agent for Colonel Mapleson who was then +_impresario_ of "Her Majesty's Opera" in London, and he brought me word +that Mapleson wanted me to call on him as soon as I reached London and, +until we could definitely arrange matters, to please give him the +refusal of myself, if I may so express it. Perhaps I wasn't a proud and +happy girl! Mapleson, I heard later, was then believed to be on the +verge of failure and it was hoped that my appearance in his company +would revive his fortunes. I grew afterwards cordially to detest and to +distrust him, and we had more troubles than I can or care to keep track +of: and, as for Jarrett, he was a most unpleasant creature with a +positive genius for making trouble. But on that day in Queenstown +harbour, with the sun shining and the little Irish fisher boats--their +patched sails streaming into the blue off-shore distance,--the man +Jarrett had sent to meet me on behalf of Colonel Mapleson seemed like a +herald of great good cheer. + +When we reached London we went to Miss Edward's Hotel in Hanover Square. +It was a curious institution, distinctive of its day and generation, a +real old-fashioned English hotel, behind streets that were "chained-up" +after nightfall. It was called a "private hotel" and unquestionably was +one; deadly dull, but maintained in the most aristocratic way +imaginable, like a formal, pluperfect, private house where one might +chance to be invited to visit. Everyone dined in his own sitting-room, +which was usually separated from the bedroom, and never a soul but the +servants was seen. The Langham was the first London hotel to introduce +the American style of hotel and it, with its successors, have had such +an influence upon the other hostelries of London as gradually to +undermine the quaint, old, truly English places we used to know, until +there are no more "private hotels" like Miss Edward's in existence. + +We had friends in London and quickly made others. Commodore McVickar, of +the New York Yacht Club, had given me a letter to a friend of his, the +Dowager Duchess of Somerset. Her cards, by the way, were engraved in +just the opposite fashion--"Duchess Dowager." McVickar told me that, if +she liked, she could make things very pleasant for me in London. It +appeared that she was something of a lion hunter and was always on the +lookout for celebrities either arriving or arrived. She went in for +everything foreign to her own immediate circle--art, intellect, and +Americans--chiefly Americans, in fact, because they were more or less of +a novelty, and she had the thirst for change in her so strongly +developed that she ought to have lived at the present time. Every night +of her life she gave dinners to hosts of friends and acquaintances. +Indeed, it is a fact that her sole interest in life consisted of giving +dinner parties and making collections of lions, great and small. I have +been told that after dinner she sometimes danced the Spanish fandango +toward the end of the evening. I never happened to see her do it, but I +quite believe her to have been capable of that or of anything else +vivacious and eccentric, although she was seventy or eighty in the shade +and not entirely built for dancing. + +I was somewhat impressed by the prospect of meeting a real live Duchess, +and had to be coached before-hand. In the early part of the eighteenth +century the mode of address "Your Grace" was used exclusively, and very +pretty and courtly it must have sounded. Nowadays it is only servants or +inferiors who think of using it. Plain "Duke" or "Duchess" is the later +form. At the period of which I am writing the custom was just betwixt +and between, in transition, and I was duly instructed to say "Your +Grace," but cautioned to say it _very_ seldom! + +[Illustration: =Henry G. Stebbins= + +From a photograph by Grillet & Co.] + +On the nineteenth of November, Colonel Stebbins and I went to call. +Maria, Dowager Duchess of Somerset lived in Park Lane in a house of +indifferent aspect. Its distinctive feature was the formidable number of +flunkeys ranged on the steps and standing in front, all in powdered +wigs and white silk stockings and wearing waistcoats of a shade carrying +out the dominant colour of the ducal coat of arms. It was raining hard +when we got there, but not one of these gorgeous functionaries would +demean himself sufficiently to carry an umbrella down to our carriage. +In the drawing-room we had to wait a long time before a sort of +gilt-edged Groom of the Chambers came to the door and announced, + +"Her Grace, the Duchess!" + +My youthful American soul was prepared for someone quite dazzling, a +magnificent presence. What is the use of diadems and coronets if the +owner does not wear them? Of course I knew, theoretically, that +duchesses did not wear their coronets in the middle of the day, but I +did nevertheless hope for something brilliant or impressive. + +Then in walked Maria, Dowager Duchess of Somerset. I cannot adequately +describe her. She was a little, dumpy, old woman with no corsets, and +dressed in a black alpaca gown and prunella shoes--those awful things +that the present generation are lucky enough never to have even seen. +She furthermore wore a _fichu_ of a style which had been entirely +extinct for fifty years at least. I really do not know how there +happened to be anyone living even then who could or would make such +things for her. No modern modiste could have achieved them and survived. +Her whole appearance was certainly beyond words. But she had very +beautiful hands, and when she spoke, the great lady was heard instantly. +It was all there, of course, only curiously costumed, not to say +disguised. + +After Colonel Stebbins had presented me and she had greeted me kindly, +he said: + +"I am sure Miss Kellogg will be glad to sing for you." + +"O," said Her Grace, carelessly, "I haven't a piano. I don't play or +sing and so I don't need one. But I'll get one in." + +I was amazed at the idea of a Duchess not owning a piano and having to +hire one when, in America, most middle-class homes possess one at +whatever sacrifice, and every little girl is expected to take music +lessons whether she has any ability or not. Even yet I do not quite +understand how she managed without a piano for her musical lions to play +on. + +She did get one in without delay and I was speedily invited to come and +sing. I thought I would pay a particular compliment to my English +hostess on that occasion by choosing a song the words of which were +written by England's Poet Laureate, so I provided myself with the lovely +setting of _Tears, Idle Tears_; music written by an American, W. H. Cook +by name, who besides being a composer of music possessed a charming +tenor voice. In my innocence I thought this choice would make a hit. +Imagine my surprise therefore when my hostess's comment on the text was: + +"Very pretty words. Who wrote them?" + +"Why," I stammered, "Tennyson." + +"Indeed? And, my dear Miss Kellogg, who _was_ Tennyson?" + +Almost immediately after Colonel Stebbins bought her a handsome set of +the Poet Laureate's works with which she expressed herself as hugely +pleased, although I am personally doubtful if she ever opened a single +volume. + +She did not forget the _Tears, Idle Tears_ episode, however, and had the +wit and good humour often to refer to it afterwards and, usually, quite +aptly. One of her most charming notes to me touches on it gracefully. +She was a great letter-writer and her epistles, couched in flowery terms +and embellished with huge capitals of the olden style, are treasures in +their way: + +" ...I know all I feel; and the Tears (_not idle Tears_) that overflow +when I read about that Charming and Illustrious 'glorious Queen' ... who +is winning all hearts and delighting everyone...." + +Another letter, one which I think is a particularly interesting specimen +of the Victorian style of letter-writing, runs: + +...I read with great delight the "critique" of you in _The London + Review_, which your Mamma was good enough to send me. The Writer is + evidently a man of highly Cultivated Mind, capable of appreciating + Excellency and Genius, and like the experienced Lapidary knows a + pearl and a Diamond when he has the good fortune to fall in the way + of one of high, pure first Water, and great brilliancy. Even _you_ + must now feel you have captivated the "elite" of the British + Public, and taken root in the country, deep, deep, deep.... + +My mother and I used often to go to see the Duchess and, through her met +many pleasant English people; the Duke and Duchess of Newcastle, Lady +Susan Vane-Tempest who was Newcastle's sister, Lord Dudley, Lord +Stanley, Lord Derby, Viscountess Combermere, Prince de la Tour +D'Auvergne, the French Ambassador,--I cannot begin to remember them +all--and I came really to like the quaint little old Duchess, who was +always most charming to me. One small incident struck me as +pathetic,--at least, it was half pathetic and half amusing. One day she +told me with impressive pride that she was going to show me one of her +dearest possessions, "a wonderful table made from a great American +treasure presented to her by her dear friend, Commodore McVickar." She +led me over to it and tenderly withdrew the cover, revealing to my +amazement a piece of rough, cheap, Indian beadwork, such as all who +crossed from Niagara to Canada in those days were familiar with. It was +about as much like the genuine and beautiful beadwork of the older +tribes as the tawdry American imitations are like true Japanese textures +and curios. This poor specimen the Duchess had had made into a table-top +and covered it with glass mounted in a gilt frame, and had given it a +place of honour in her reception room. I suppose Mr. McVickar had sent +it to her to give her a rough general idea of what Indian work looked +like. I cannot believe that he intended to play a joke on her. She was +certainly very proud of it and, so far as I know, nobody ever had the +heart to disillusion her. + +More than once I encountered in England this incongruous and +inappropriate valuation of American things. I do not put it down to a +general admiration for us but, on the contrary, to the fact that the +English were so utterly and incredibly ignorant with regard to us. The +beadwork of the Duchess reminds me of another somewhat similar incident. + +At that time there were only two really rich bachelors in New York +society, Wright Sandford and William Douglass. Willie Douglass was of +Scotch descent and sang very pleasingly. Women went wild over him. He +had a yacht that won everything in sight. While we were in London, he +and his yacht put in an appearance at Cowes and he asked us down to pay +him a visit. It was a delightful experience. The Earl of Harrington's +country seat was not far away and the Earl with his daughters came on +board to ask the yacht's party to luncheon the day following. Of course +we all went and, equally of course, we had a wonderful time. Lunch was a +deliciously informal affair. At one stage of the proceedings, somebody +wanted more soda water, when young Lord Petersham, Harrington's eldest +son, jumped up to fetch it himself. He rushed across the room and flung +open, with an air of triumph, the door of a common, wooden ice-box,--the +sort kept in the pantry or outside the kitchen door by Americans. + +"Look!" he cried, "did you ever see anything so splendid? It's our +American refrigerator and the joy of our lives! I suppose you've seen +one before, Miss Kellogg?" + +I explained rather feebly that I had, although not in a dining-room. But +the family assured me that a dining-room was the proper place for it. I +have seldom seen anything so heart-rendingly incongruous as that plain +ugly article of furniture in that dining-room all carved woodwork, +family silver, and armorial bearings! + +They were dear people and my heart went out to them more completely than +to any of my London friends. I soon discovered why. + +"You are the most cordial English people I've met yet," I said to Lady +Philippa Stanhope, the Earl's charming daughter. Her eyes twinkled. + +"Oh, we're not English," she explained, "we're Irish!" + +Yet even if I did not find the Londoners quite so congenial, I did like +them. I could not have helped it, they were so courteous to my mother +and me. Probably they supposed us to have Indians in our back-yards at +home; nevertheless they were always courteous, at times cordial. One of +the most charming of the Englishwomen I met was the Viscountess +Combermere. She was one of the Queen's ladies-in-waiting, a very +vivacious woman, and used to keep dinner tables in gales of laughter. +Just then when anyone in London wanted to introduce or excuse an +innovation, he or she would exclaim, "the Queen does it!" and there +would be nothing more for anyone to say. This became a sort of +catch-word. I recall one afternoon at the Dowager Duchess of Somerset's, +a cup of hot tea was handed to the Viscountess who, pouring the liquid +from the cup into the saucer and then sipping it from the saucer, said: + +"Now ladies, do not think this is rude, for I have just come from the +Queen and saw her do the same. Let us emulate the Queen!" Then, seeing +us hesitate, "the Queen does it, ladies! the Queen does it!" + +Whereupon everyone present drank tea from their saucers. + +It was the Viscountess, also, who so greatly amused my mother at a +luncheon party by saying to her with the most polite interest: + +"You speak English remarkably well, Mrs. Kellogg! Do they speak English +in America?" + +"Yes, a little," replied mother, quietly. + + + + +CHAPTER XIII + +AT HER MAJESTY'S + + +Adelina Patti came to see us at once. I had known her in America when +she was singing with her sister and when, if the truth must be told, +many people found Carlotta the more satisfactory singer of the two. I +was glad to see her again even though we were _prime donne_ of rival +opera organisations. Adelina headed the list of artists at Covent Garden +under Mr. Gye, among whom were some of the biggest names in Europe. +Indeed, I found myself confronted with the competition of several +favourites of the English people. At my own theatre, Her Majesty's, was +Mme. Titjiens, always much beloved in England and still a fine artist. +Christine Nilsson was also a member of the company; had sung there +earlier in that year and was to sing there again later in the season. + +A _tour de force_ of Adelina's was my old friend _Linda di Chamounix_. +She was supposed to be very brilliant in the part, especially in the +_Cavatina_ of the first act. As for Marguerite it was considered her +private and particular property at Covent Garden, and Nilsson's private +and particular property at Her Majesty's. + +I have been often asked my opinion of Patti's voice. She had a beautiful +voice that, in her early days, was very high, and she is, on the whole, +quite the most remarkable singer that I ever heard. But her voice has +not been a high one for many years. It has changed, changed in pitch and +register. It is no longer a soprano; it is a mezzo and must be judged by +quite different standards. I heard her when she sang over here in +America thirteen years ago. She gave her old _Cavatina_ from _Linda_ and +sang the whole of it a tone and a half lower than formerly. While the +public did not know what the trouble was, they could not help perceiving +the lack of brilliancy. Ah, those who have heard her in only the last +fifteen years or so know nothing at all about Patti's voice! Yet it was +always a light voice, although I doubt if the world realised the fact. +She was always desperately afraid of overstraining it, and so was +Maurice Strakosch for her. She never could sing more than three times in +a week and, of those three, one _role_ at least had to be very light. A +great deal is heard about the wonderful preservation of Patti's voice. +It _was_ wonderfully preserved thirteen years ago. How could it have +been otherwise, considering the care she has always taken of herself? +Such a life! Everything divided off carefully according to _regime_:--so +much to eat, so far to walk, so long to sleep, just such and such things +to do and no others! And, above all, she has allowed herself few +emotions. Every singer knows that emotions are what exhaust and injure +the voice. She never acted; and she never, never felt. As Violetta she +did express some slight emotion, to be sure. Her _Gran Dio_ in the last +act was sung with something like passion, at least with more passion +than she ever sang anything else. Yes: in _La Traviata_, after she had +run away with Nicolini, she did succeed in putting an unusual amount of +warmth into the _role_ of Violetta. + +[Illustration: =Adelina Patti= + +From a photograph by Fredericks] + +But her great success was always due to her wonderful voice. Her acting +was essentially mechanical. As an intelligent actress, a creator of +parts, or even as an interesting personality, she could never approach +Christine Nilsson. Nilsson had both originality and magnetism, a +combination irresistibly captivating. Her singing was the embodiment of +dramatic expression. + +In September of that year we went down to Edinburgh to see the ruins of +Melrose Abbey. To confess the truth, I remember just two things clearly +about Scotland. One was that, at the ruins, Colonel Stebbins picked up a +piece of crumbling stone, spoke of the strange effect of age upon it, +and let it drop. Around turned the showman, or guide, or whatever the +person was called who crammed the sights down our throats. + +"You Americans are the curse of the country!" he exclaimed sharply. + +My other distinct memory--with associations of much discomfort and +annoyance--is that I left one rubber overshoe in Loch Lomond. + +So much for Scotland. We did not stay long; and were soon back in London +ready for work. + +Our rehearsals were rather fun. It seemed strange to be able to walk +across a stage without getting the hem of one's skirt dirty. English +theatres are incredibly clean when one considers what a dirty, sooty, +grimy town London is. Our opera was at the old Drury Lane, although we +always called it Her Majesty's because that was the name of the opera +company. I was amused to find that a member of the company, a big young +basso named "Signor Foli," turned out to be none other than Walter +Foley, a boy from my old home in the Hartford region. I always called +him "the Irish Italian from Connecticut." + +We opened on November 2d in _Faust_. There was rather a flurry of +indignation that a young American _prima donna_ should dare to plunge +into Marguerite the very first thing. The fact that the young American +had sung it before other artists had, with the exception of Patti and +Titjiens, and that she was generally believed to know something about +it, mattered not at all. English people are acknowledged idolaters and +notoriously cold to newcomers. They cling to some imperishable memory of +a poor soul whose voice has been dead for years: and it was undoubtedly +an inversion of this same loyalty to their favourites that made them so +dislike the idea of Marguerite being selected for the new young woman's +_debut_. But, really, though on a slightly different scale, it was not +so unlike the early days of _Linda_, over again when the Italians +accused me with so much animosity of taking the bread out of their +mouths. It can easily be believed that, with Nilsson holding all records +of Marguerite at Her Majesty's, and with Adelina waiting at Covent +Garden with murderous sweetness to see what I was going to do with her +favourite _role_, I was wretchedly nervous. When the first night came +around no one had a good word for me; everybody was indifferent; and I +honestly do not know what I should have done if it had not been for +Santley--dear, big-hearted Santley. He was our Valentine, that one, +great, incomparable Valentine for whom Gounod wrote the _Dio possente_. +I was walking rather shakily across the stage for my first entrance, +feeling utterly frightened and lonely, and looking, I dare say, nearly +as miserable as I felt, when a warm, strong hand was laid gently on my +shoulder. + +"Courage, little one, courage," said Santley, smiling at me and patting +me as if I had been a very small, unhappy, frightened child. + +I smiled back at him and, suddenly, I felt strong and hopeful and brave +again. Onto the stage I went with a curiously sure feeling that I was +going to do well after all. + +I suppose I must have done well. There was a packed house and very soon +I felt it with me. I was called out many times, once in the middle of +the act after the church scene, an occurrence that was so far as I know +unprecedented. Colonel Keppel, the Prince of Wales's aide (I did not +dream then how well-known the name Keppel was destined to be in +connection with that of his royal master), came behind during the +_entr'acte_ to congratulate me on behalf of the Prince. In later +performances his Highness did me the honour of coming himself. The +London newspapers--of which, frankly, I had stood in great dread--had +delightful things to say. This is the way in which one of them welcomed +me: " ...She has only one fault: if she were but English, she would be +simply perfect!" The editorial comments in _The Athenaeum_ of Chorley, +that gorgon of English criticism, included the following paragraph: + + Miss Kellogg has a voice, indeed, that leaves little to wish for, + and proves by her use of it that her studies have been both + assiduous and in the right path. She is, in fact, though so young, + a thoroughly accomplished singer--in the school, at any rate, + toward which the music of M. Gounod consistently leans, and which + essentially differs from the florid school of Rossini and the + Italians before Verdi. One of the great charms of her singing is + her perfect enunciation of the words she has to utter. She never + sacrifices sense to sound; but fits the verbal text to the music, + as if she attached equal importance to each. Of the Italian + language she seems to be a thorough mistress, and we may well + believe that she speaks it both fluently and correctly. These + manifest advantages, added to a graceful figure, a countenance full + of intelligence, and undoubted dramatic ability, make up a sum of + attractions to be envied, and easily explain the interest excited + by Miss Kellogg at the outset and maintained by her to the end. + +But, oh, how grateful I was to that good Santley for giving the little +boost to my courage at just the right moment! He was always a fine +friend, as well as a fine singer. I admired him from the bottom of my +heart, both as an artist and a man, and not only for what he was but +also for what he had grown from. He was only a ship-chandler's clerk in +the beginning. Indeed, he was in the office of a friend of mine in +Liverpool. From that he rose to the foremost rank of musical art. Yet +that friend of mine never took the least interest in Santley, nor was he +ever willing to recognise Santley's standing. Merely because he had once +held so inferior a position this man I knew--and he was not a bad sort +of man otherwise--was always intolerant and incredulous of Santley's +success and would never even go to hear him sing. It is true that +Santley never did entirely shake off the influences of his early +environment, a characteristic to be remarked in many men of his +nationality. In addition to this, some men are so sincere and +simple-hearted and earnest that they do not take kindly to artificial +environment and I think Santley was one of these. And he was a dear man, +and kind. His wife, a relative of Fanny Kemble, I never knew very well +as she was a good deal of an invalid. + +[Illustration: =Clara Louise Kellogg as Linda, 1868= + +From a photograph by Stereoscopic Co.] + +On the 9th we repeated _Faust_ and on the 11th we gave _Traviata_. This +also, I feel sure, must have irritated Adelina. It is a curious little +fact that, while the opera of _Traviata_ was not only allowed but also +greatly liked in London, the play _La Dame aux Camilias_--which as we +all know is practically the _Traviata libretto_--had been rigorously +banned by the English censor! _Traviata_ brought me more curtain calls +than ever. The British public was really growing to like me! + +_Martha_ followed on the 15th. This was another _role_ in which I had to +challenge comparison with Nilsson, who was fond of it, although I never +liked her classic style in the part. It was given in Italian; but I sang +_The Last Rose of Summer_ in English, like a ballad, and the people +loved it. I wore a blue satin gown as Martha which, alas! I lost in the +theatre fire not long after. + +Then came _Linda di Chamounix_, the second _role_ that I had ever sung. +I was glad to sing it again, and in England, and the newspapers spoke of +it as "a great and crowning success" for me. As soon as we had given +this opera, Gye, the _impresario_ at Covent Garden, decided it was time +to show off Patti in that _role_. So he promptly--hastily, even--revived +Linda for her. I have always felt, however, that Linda was tacitly given +to me by the public. Arditi, our conductor at Her Majesty's, wrote a +waltz for me to sing at the close of the opera, _The Kellogg Waltz_, and +I wore a charming new costume in the part, a simple little yellow gown, +with a blue moire silk apron and tiny pale pink roses. The combination +of pink and yellow was always a favourite one with me. I wore it in my +early appearance as Violetta and, later, also in _Traviata_, I wore a +variant of the same colour scheme that was called by my friends in +London my "rainbow frock." It was composed of a _grosgrain_ silk +petticoat of the hue known as apricot, trimmed with mauve and pale +turquoise shades; the overskirt was caught back at either side with a +turquoise bow and the train was of plain turquoise. I took a serious +interest in my costumes in those days--and, indeed, in all days! This +latter gown was one of Worth's creations and met with much admiration. +More than once have I received letters asking where it was made. + +The English public was most cordial and kindly toward me and unfailingly +appreciative of my work. But I believe from the bottom of my heart that, +inherently and permanently, the English are an unmusical people. They do +not like fire, nor passion, nor great moments in either life nor art. +Mozart's music, that runs peacefully and simply along, is precisely what +suits them best. They adore it. They likewise adore Rossini and Handel. +They think that the crashing emotional climaxes of the more advanced +composers are extravagant; and, both by instinct and principle, they +dislike the immoderate and the extreme in all things. They are in fact a +simple and primitive people, temperamentally, actually, and +artistically. I remember that the first year I was in London all the +women were singing: + + My mother bids me bind my hair + And lace my bodice blue! + +It wandered along so sweetly and mildly, not to say insipidly, that of +course it was popular with Victorian England. + +Finally, came _Don Giovanni_ on December 3d. I played Zerlina as I had +done in America. Later I came to prefer Donna Anna. But in London +Titjiens did Donna Anna. Santley was the Almaviva and Mme. Sinico was +the Donna Elvira. The following spring when we gave our "all star cast" +Nilsson was the Elvira. I had no Zerlina costume with me and the +decision to put on the opera was made in a hurry, so I got out my old +Rosina dress and wore it and it answered the purpose every bit as well +as if I had had a new one. + +The opera went splendidly, so splendidly that, two days later, on the +5th, we gave it again at a matinee, or, as it was the fashion to say +then, a "morning performance." The success was repeated. I caught a most +terrible cold, however, and returned in a bad temper to Miss Edward's +Hotel to nurse myself for a few days and get in condition for the next +performance. But there was destined to be no next performance at the old +Drury Lane. + +The following evening at about half-past ten, my mother, Colonel +Stebbins, and I were talking in our sitting-room with the window-shades +up. Suddenly I saw a red glow over the roofs of the houses and pointed +it out. + +"It's a fire!" I exclaimed. + +"And it's in the direction of the theatre!" said Colonel Stebbins. + +"Oh, I hope that Her Majesty's is in no danger!" cried my mother. + +We did not think at first that it could be the theatre itself, but +Colonel Stebbins sent his valet off in a hurry to make enquiries. While +he was gone a messenger arrived in great haste from the Duchess of +Somerset asking for assurances of my safety. Then came other messages +from friends all over London and soon the man servant returned to +confirm the reports that were reaching us. Her Majesty's had caught fire +from the carpenter's shop underneath the stage and, before morning, had +burned to the ground. + +Arditi had been holding an orchestra rehearsal there at the time and the +last piece of music ever played in the old theatre was _The Kellogg +Waltz_. + +[Illustration: =Mr. McHenry= + +From a photograph by Brady] + + + + +CHAPTER XIV + +ACROSS THE CHANNEL + + +Titjiens had smelled smoke and she had been told that it was nothing but +shavings that were being burned. Luckily, nobody was hurt and, although +some of our costumes were lost, we artists did not suffer so very much +after all. But of course our season was summarily put an end to and we +all scattered for work and play until the spring season when Mapleson +would want us back. + +My mother and I went across to Paris without delay. I had wanted to see +"the Continent" since I was a child and I must say that, in my heart of +hearts, I almost welcomed the fire that set me free to go sightseeing +and adventuring after the slavery of dressing-rooms and rehearsals. +Crossing the Channel I was the heroine of the boat because, while I was +just a little seasick, I was not enough so to give in to it. I can +remember forcing myself to sit up and walk about and even talk with a +grim and savage feeling that I would die rather than admit myself beaten +by a silly and disgusting _malaise_ like that; and after crossing the +ocean with impunity too. Everyone else on board was abjectly ill and I +expect it was partly pride that kept me well. + +In Paris we went first to the Louvre Hotel where we were nearly frozen +to death. As soon as we could, we moved into rooms where we might thaw +out and become almost warm, although we never found the temperature +really comfortable the whole time we lived in French houses. We saw any +number of plays, visited cathedrals and picture galleries, and bought +clothes. In fact we did all the regulation things, for we were +determined to make the most of every minute of our holiday. Rather +oddly, one of the entertainments I remember most distinctly was a +production of _Gulliver's Travels_ at the Theatre Chatelet. It was the +dullest play in the world; but the scenery and effects were splendid. + +I was not particularly enthusiastic over the French theatres. Indeed, I +found them very limited and disappointing. I had gone to France +expecting every theatrical performance in Paris to be a revelation. +Probably I respect French art as much as any one; but I believe it is +looked up to a great deal more than is justified. Consider Mme. +Carvalho's wig for example, and, as for that, her costume as well. Yet +we all turned to the Parisians as authority for the theatre. The +pictures of the first distinguished Marguerite give a fine idea of the +French stage effects in the sixties. A few years ago I heard +_Tannhaeuser_ in Paris. The manner in which the pilgrims wandered in +convinced me in my opinion. The whole management was inefficient and +Wagner's injunctions were disregarded at every few bars. The French +Gallicise everything. They simply cannot get inside the mental point of +view of any other country. Though they are popularly considered to be so +facile and adaptable, they are in truth the most obstinate, one-idead, +single-sided race on earth barring none except, possibly, the Italians. +Gounod's _Faust_ is a good example--a Ger man story treated by +Frenchmen. Remarkably little that is Teutonic has been left in it. +Goethe has been eliminated so far as possible. The French were held by +the drama, but the poetry and the symbolism meant nothing at all to +them. Being German, they had no use for its poetry and its symbolism. +The French colour and alter foreign thought just as they colour and +alter foreign phraseology. They do it in a way more subtle than any +usual difficulties of translation from one tongue to another. The +process is more a form of transmuting than of translating--words, +thoughts, actions--into another element entirely. How idiotic it sounds +when Hamlet sings: + + _Etre--ou n'etre pas!_ + +Perhaps this, however, is not entirely the fault of the French. +Shakespeare should never be set to music. + +There is also the question of traditions. I may seem to be contradicting +myself when I find fault with a certain French school for its blind and +bigoted adherence to traditions; but there should be moderation in all +things and a hidebound rigidity in stupid old forms is just as +inartistic as a free-and-easy elasticity in flighty new ones. It is +possible to put some old wine in new bottles, but it must be poured in +very gently. French artists learn most when once they get away from +France. Maurel is a good example. Look at the way he grew and developed +when he went to England and America and was allowed to work problems and +ideas out by himself. + +Once when in Paris I wanted to vary and freshen my costume of +Marguerite, give it a new yet consistent touch here and there. I was not +planning to renovate the _role_, only the girl's clothes. Having always +felt that the Grand Opera was a Mecca to us artists from afar, I +hastened there and climbed up the huge stairway to pay my respects to +the Director. Monsieur had never heard of me. Frenchmen make a point +never to have heard of any one outside of France. The fact that I was +merely the first and the most famous Marguerite across the sea did not +count. He was, however, very polite. He brought out his wonderful +costume books that were full of new ideas to me and delighted me with +numberless fresh possibilities. I saw unexplored fields in the direction +of correct costuming and exclaimed over the designs, Monsieur watching +my enthusiasm with bored civility. There was one particularly enchanting +design for a silver chatelaine, heavy and mediaeval in character. I could +see it with my mind's eye hanging from Marguerite's bodice. This I said +to M. le Directeur: but he shook his dignified head with a frown. + +"Too rich. Marguerite was too poor," he said with weary brevity. + +"Oh, no!" I explained volubly and eagerly, "she was of the well-to-do +class--the burghers--don't you remember? Marguerite and Valentine owned +their house and, though they were of course of peasant blood, this sort +of chatelaine seems to me just the thing that any German girl might +possess." + +"Too rich," Monsieur put in imperturbably. + +"But," I protested, "it might be an heirloom, you know, and----" + +"Too rich," he repeated politely; and he added in a calm, dreamy voice +as he shut up the book, "I think that Mademoiselle will make a mistake +_if she ever tries anything new_!" + +As for sightseeing in France, my mother and I did any amount of it on +that first visit. Sometimes I was charmed but more often I was +disillusioned. There have been few "sights" in my life that have come up +to my "great expectations" or been half as wonderful as my dreams. This +is the penalty of a too vivid imagination; nothing can ever be as +perfect as one's fancy paints it. The view of Mont Blanc from the +terrace of Voltaire's house near the borderland of France and +Switzerland is one of the few in my experience that I have found more +lovely than I could have dreamed it to be. Of all the palaces that I +have been in--and they have numbered several--the only one that ever +seemed to me like a real palace was Fontainebleau. Small but exquisite, +it looked like a haven of rest and loveliness, as though its motto might +well be: "How to be happy though a crowned head!" + +Speaking of crowned heads reminds me that while we were in Paris Mr. +McHenry, our English friend from Holland Park, made an appointment for +me to be presented to the ex-Queen of Spain, the Bourbon princess, +Christina, so beloved by many Spaniards. I was delighted because I had +never been presented to royalty and a Spanish queen seemed a very +splendid sort of personage even if she did not happen to be ruling at +the moment. Christina had withdrawn from Spain and had married the Duke +de Rienzares. They lived in a beautiful palace on the Champs Elysees. +There are nothing but shops on the site now but it used to be very +imposing, especially the formal entrance which, if I remember correctly, +was off the Rue St. Honore. Mrs. and Mr. McHenry went with me and, after +being admitted, we were shown up a marble staircase into what was called +the Cameo Room, a small, austere apartment filled with cameos of the +Bourbons. Queen Christina liked to live in small and unpretentious +rooms; they seemed less suggestive of a palace. + +I found that "royalty at home" was about as simple as anything could +conceivably be; not quite as plain as the old Dowager Duchess of +Somerset to be sure but quite plain enough. The Queen and the Duke de +Rienzares entered without ceremony. The Queen wore a severe and simple +black gown that cleared the floor by an inch or two. It was a perfectly +practical and useful dress, admirably suited for housekeeping or tidying +up a room. Around the royal lady's shoulders hung a little red plaid +shawl such as no American would wear. She was Spanishly dark and her +black hair was pulled into a knot about the size of a silver dollar in +the middle of the back of her head. I have never seen her _en grande +toilette_ and so do not know whether or not she ever looked any less +like a respectable housekeeper. She had a delightful manner and was most +gracious. She had, with all the Bourbon pride, also the Bourbon gift of +making herself pleasant and of putting people at their ease. Of course +she was immensely accomplished and spoke Italian as perfectly as she did +Spanish. The Duke seemed harmless and amiable. He had little to say, was +thoroughly subordinate, and seemed entirely acclimated to his position +in life as the ordinarily born husband of a Queen. + +Our visit was not much of an ordeal after all. It was really quite +instinctively that I courtesied and backed out of the room and observed +the other points of etiquette that are correct when one is introduced to +royalty. As it was a private presentation, it had not been thought +necessary to coach me, and as I backed myself out of the august +presence, keeping myself as nearly as possible in a courtesying +attitude, I caught Mr. McHenry looking at me with amused approval. + +"Well," said he, when we were safe in the hall and I had straightened +up, "I should say that you had been accustomed to courts and crowned +heads all your life! You acted as if you had been brought up on it!" + +"Ah," I replied, "that comes from my opera training. We learn on the +stage how to treat kings and queens." + +Not more than a fortnight after this I had an offer for an engagement at +the Madrid Opera for $400.00 a night, very good for Spain in those days. +I suppose that it came indirectly through the influence of Queen +Christina. I wanted to go to Spain, but my mother would not let me +accept. We were almost pioneers of travel in the modern sense and had no +one to give us authoritative ideas of other countries. People alarmed us +about the climate, declaring it unhealthy; and about the public, which +they said was capricious and rude. The warning about the public +particularly frightened me. I should never object to my efforts being +received in silence in case of disapproval, but I felt that I could not +survive what I had been told was the Spanish custom of hissing. I was +also told that Spanish audiences were very mercurial and difficult to +win. So we refused the Madrid Opera offer, and I have never sung in +either Spain or Italy principally because of my dread of the hissing +habit. + +That same year I heard Christine Nilsson for the first time, in _Martha_ +at the Theatre Lyrique and, later, in _Hamlet_ at the same theatre with +Faure. Shortly after both Nilsson and Faure were taken over by the Grand +Opera. Ophelie had been written for Nilsson and composed entirely around +her voice. She created the part, singing it exquisitely, and Ambrose +Thomas paid her the compliment of taking his two principal soprano +melodies from old Swedish folk-songs. Nilsson could sing Swedish +melodies in a way to drive one crazy or break one's heart. I have been +quite carried away with them again and again. There was one delicious +song that she called _Le Bal_ in which a young fellow asks a girl to +dance and she is very shy. It was slight, but ever so pretty, and it had +a minor melody that was typically northern. These were the good days +before her voice became impaired. In this connection I may mention that +it was Christine Nilsson who, having heard the Goodwin girls sing _Way +Down upon the Swanee River_, first introduced it on the stage as an +_encore_. + +While speaking of Nilsson, I want to record that I was present on the +night, much later, when she practically murdered the high register of +her voice. She had five upper notes the quality of which was unlike any +other I ever heard and that possessed a peculiar charm. The tragedy +happened during a performance of _The Magic Flute_ in London and I was +in the Newcastles' box, which was near the stage. Nilsson was the Queen +of the Night, one of her most successful early _roles_. The second aria +in _The Magic Flute_ is more famous and less difficult than the first +aria and, also, more effective. Nilsson knew well the ineffectiveness of +the ending of the first _aria_ in the two weakest notes of a soprano's +voice, A natural and B flat. I never could understand why a master like +Mozart should have chosen to use them as he did. There is no climax to +the song. One has to climb up hard and fast and then stop short in the +middle. It is an appalling thing to do: and that night Nilsson took +those two notes at the last in _chest tones_. + +[Illustration: =Christine Nilsson as Queen of the Night= + +From a photograph by Pierre Petit] + +"Great heavens!" I gasped, "what is she doing? What is the woman +thinking of!" + +Of course I knew she was doing it to get volume and vibration and to +give that trying climax some character. But to say that it was a fatal +attempt is to put it mildly. She absolutely killed a certain quality in +her voice there and then and she _never recovered it_. Even that night +she had to cut out the second great _aria_. Her beautiful high notes +were gone for ever. Probably the fatality was the result of the last +stroke to a continued strain which she had put upon her voice. After +that she, like Mario, began to be dramatic to make up for what she had +lost. She, the classical and cold artist, became full of expression and +animation. But the later Nilsson was very different from the Nilsson +whom I first heard in Paris during the winter of 1868, when, besides +singing the music perfectly, she was, with her blond hair and broad +brow, a living Ophelie. As I have said, Faure, the baritone, was her +Hamlet in that early performance. He was a great artist, a great actor +in whatever _role_ he took. His voice was not wonderful, but he was +saved, and more than saved, by his style and his art. He was a +particularly cultivated, musicianly man whose dignity of carriage and +elegance of manner could easily make people forget a certain ungrateful +quality in his voice. It was Faure who had the brains and perseverance +to learn how to sing a particular note from a really bad singer. The bad +singer had only one good note in his voice and that happened to be the +worst one in Faure's. So, night after night, the great artist went to +hear and to study the inferior one to try and learn how he got that +note. And he succeeded, too. This is a fair sample of his careful and +finished way of doing anything. He was a big artist, and to big +artists, especially in singing, music is almost mathematical in its +exactness. + +Adelina Patti, who had also left London for the winter, was singing at +the _Italiens_ in Paris. I went to hear her give an indifferent +performance of _Ernani_. It was never one of her advantageous _roles_. +Adelina had a most extraordinary charm and a great power over men of +very diverse sorts. De Caux, Nicolini, Maurice Strakosch, who married +Adelina's sister Amelia, all adored her and felt that whatever she did +must be right because she did it. Nicolini, who had been a star tenor +singing all over Italy before she captured him, was willing to forget +that he ever had a wife or children. Maurice was for years her "manager +and representative," and as such put up with incredible complexities in +the situation. There is a long and lurid tale about Nicolini's wife +appearing in Italy when Nicolini, Maurice, and Adelina were all there. +The story ended with Nicolini being kicked downstairs and the press +commented upon the episode with an apt couplet from Schiller to the +effect that "life is hard, but merry is art!" + +The names of Paris and of Maurice Strakosch in conjunction conjure up +the thought of Napoleon III, who, in his young days of exile, used to be +very intimate with Maurice. Louis Napoleon, after he had escaped from +the fortress of Ham, spent some time in London, and he and Maurice +frequently lunched or dined together. By the way, some years later, at a +dinner at the McHenrys' in Holland Park, I was told by Chevalier Wyckoff +that it was he who rescued Napoleon from the prison of Ham by smuggling +clothes in to him and by having a boat waiting for him. Maurice used to +tell of one rather amusing incident that occurred during the London +period. Louis Napoleon's dress clothes were usually in pawn, and one +night when he wanted to go to some party, he presented himself at +Maurice's rooms to borrow his. Maurice was out; but nevertheless Louis +Napoleon took the dress clothes anyway, adding all of Maurice's orders +and decorations. When he was decked out to his satisfaction he went to +the party. Shortly after, in came Maurice, to dress for the same party, +and called to his valet to bring him his evening clothes. + +"Mr. Bonaparte's got 'em on, sir," said the man: and Maurice stayed at +home! + +Napoleon III was a man of many weaknesses. Yet he kept his promises and +remembered his friends--when he could. As soon as he became Emperor he +sent for Maurice Strakosch and offered him the management of the +_Italiens_; but Maurice declined the honour. He was too busy +"representing" Patti in those days to care for any other engagement. He +did give singing lessons to the Empress Eugenie however, and was always +on good terms with her and with the Emperor. + +When I was in Paris in '68 Napoleon and Eugenie were in power at the +Tuileries and day after day I saw them driving behind their splendid +horses. Paris was extremely gay and yet somewhat ominous, for there was +a wide-spread feeling that clouds were gathering about the throne. When +thinking of that period I sometimes quote to myself Owen Meredith's +poem, _Aux Italiens_, + + At Paris it was at the opera there ... + + * * * * * + + The Emperor there in his box of state + Looked grave, as if he had just then seen + The red flag wave from the city gate, + Where his eagles in bronze had been. + +The Tuileries court was a very brilliant one and we were accustomed to +splendid costumes and gorgeous turnouts in the Bois, but one day I came +home with a particularly excited description of the "foreign princess" I +had seen. Her clothes, her horses (she drove postilion), her carriage, +her liveries, her servants, all, to my innocent and still ignorant mind, +proclaimed her some distinguished visiting royalty. How chagrined I was +and how I was laughed at when my "princess" turned out to be one of the +best known _demi-mondaines_ in Paris! Even then it was difficult to tell +the two _mondes_ apart. + +A unique character in Paris was Dr. Evans, dentist to the Emperor and +Empress. He was an American and a witty, talented man. I remember +hearing him laughingly boast: + +"I have looked down the mouth of every crowned head of Europe!" + +When disaster overtook the Bonapartes, he proved that he could serve +crowned heads in other ways besides filling their teeth. It was he who +helped the Empress to escape, and the fact made him an exile from Paris. +He came to see me in London years afterwards and told me something of +that dark and dramatic time of flight. He felt very homesick for Paris, +which had been his home for so long, but the dear man was as merry and +charming as ever. + +We spent in all only a short time in Paris. Two months were taken out of +the middle of that winter for travelling on the Continent, after which +we returned to the French city for March. When we first started from +Paris on our trip we were headed for Nice. It was Christmas Day, and +cold as charity. Why _did_ we choose that day of all others on which to +begin a journey? Our Christmas dinner consisted of cold soup swallowed +at a station. Christmas!--I could have wept! + + + + +CHAPTER XV + +MY FIRST HOLIDAY ON THE CONTINENT + + +It seemed very odd to be really idle. From the time I was thirteen I had +been working and studying so systematically that to get the habit of +leisure was like learning a new and a difficult lesson. It took time, +for one thing, to find out how to relax; nervous persons never acquire +this art naturally nor possess it instinctively. It is with them the +artificial product of painful experience. All my life I had been +expending energy at top pressure and building it up again as fast as I +could instead of sometimes letting it lie fallow for a bit. When I +became exhausted my mother would speedily make strong broths with rice +and meat and vegetables and anything else that she considered nourishing +to stimulate my jaded vitality; then I would go at my work again harder +than ever. When I had finished one thing I plunged, nerves, body, and +brain, into another. To be an artist is bad enough; but to be an +American artist--! To the temperamental excitability and intensity is +added the racial nervousness; and lucky are such if they do not go up in +a final smoke of over-energised effort. When I was singing I was always +in a fever before the curtain rose. All the day before I was restless to +the point of desperation. Instead of letting myself go and becoming +comfortably limp so that I might conserve my strength for the +performance itself, I would cast about for a hundred secondary ways in +which to waste my nervous force. I was nearly as bad as the Viennese +_prima donna_, Marie Willt. The story is told of her that a reporter +from a Vienna newspaper went to interview her the afternoon before she +was to sing in _Il Trovatore_ at the Royal Opera and enquired of the +scrubwoman in the hall where he could find Frau Willt. + +"Here," responded the scrubwoman, sitting up to eye him calmly. + +When the young man expressed surprise and incredulity she explained, as +she continued to mop the soapy water, that she invariably scrubbed the +floor the day she was going to sing. "It keeps me busy," she concluded +sententiously. + +Think of the force that went into that scrubbing-brush which might have +gone into the part of Leonora! But it is not for me to find fault with +such a course of action because I followed a very similar one. If I did +not exactly scrub floors, I did, somehow, contrive to find other equally +adequate ways of dissipating my strength before I sang. Yet here I was, +actually taking a holiday, with no chance at all to work even if I +wanted to! + +When we arrived in Nice the lemons and oranges on the trees and a sky as +blue as painted china made the place seem to me somewhat unnatural, like +a stage setting. Not yet having learned my lesson of relaxation, I soon +became restless and wanted to be again on the move. Nevertheless we +stayed there for nearly a month. My mother seemed to like it. She made +many friends and spent hours every day painting little pictures--quite +dear little pictures they were--of the bright coloured wild flowers +that grew roundabout. But possibly a few extracts from the diary kept by +my mother of this visit will not be out of place here. The capital +letters and italics are hers. + + _Dec. 25_--Christmas morning. Sun shone for two hours. Left for + Nice. Arrived at 5 P.M. A very cold night. Cars warmed by zink + hollow planks [boxes] filled with Boiling water which are replaced + every three hours at the different stations. Notwithstanding shawls + and wraps suffered with the cold. Nothing to eat until we arrived + at twelve at Marseilles, where [we] got a poor, cold soup and + miserable cup of tea. Arrived at the Hotel Luxembourg in Nice at + 6.30 P.M. The city and hotels crowded with people from all parts of + the world. Rheumatic people rush here to get into the _sunshine_--a + _thing_ seldom seen in Paris or London in winter. Nice is simply a + watering-place _without the water_, unless one means the Sea + Mediterranean which almost rushes into the Halls of the Hotels. All + languages are here spoken; therefore no trouble for any nation to + obtain what it desires. The streets are pulverised magnesia. + Everybody looks after walking as though they had been to mill + "turning hopper." + + In our promenade [to-day, Dec. 27] we meet in less than twenty + minutes as many different nationalities, or representatives of + each. Poor in soil, poor in colour, poor in taste is Nice. The + Hotels compose the City. Roses bloom by the roadsides in abundance. + The gardens of the Hotels are yellow with Oranges. Palm trees line + the streets, none of which have shade trees that ever grow enough + to shade but _one person at a time_--no soil--no vigour--sun does + all the maturing. Things ripen from necessity, not from the soil. + + _Saturday 28_--Clear beautiful morning. Beach covered with + promenaders. At twelve Louise and I took a long walk towards Villa + Franca--sun very hot--met Richard Palmer who had just arrived. + Enjoyed the morning; were refreshed by our walk. Mr. Stebbins and + Charlie called. Drive at 5. Evening had a light wood fire upon the + hearth, making rooms and hearts cheerful in direct opposition to + the roaring of the wild sea at our very feet. Proprietor of Hotel + sent up his Piano for Louise. Basket Phaetons--2 ponies--are hired + here for one franc an hour--fine woods but dusty. + + _29th.--Sunday_--Magnificent morning. The sea smooth as glass. + Women line the beach spreading clothes to bleach. There is a short + diluted Season of Italian Opera here. _Ernani_ was announced for + last evening. There is no odor from the Mediterranean, no sea + weeds, no shells, a perfectly clean barren beach. I don't believe + it is even salt. Shall go and sip to satisfy Yankee curiosity. + There are two Irish heiresses here whose combined weight in gold is + 9000 lbs., and the way the nobs and snobs tiptoe, bow, and scrape + is something to behold. They are always dressed alike. We are cold + enough to have a small wood fire morning and evening in a very + primitive style fireplace 18 inches square. Handirons made of 2 + cast iron virgins' heads and busts. Bellows thrown in. + + _One_ P.M.--Took a double Pony Basket Phaeton, Louise and I on the + front seat, she driving a grey and bay pony. Drove to Villa Franca + where the American fleet is anchored. Saw the old flag once more, + which brought home most vividly to my heart and roused the old + longing for the dear old spot. + + _30th._ No letters. No news of trunks. The Monotonous sea singing + Hush at measured intervals, not one wave even an inch higher than + another. This cannot be a real sea, the Mediterranean, _or it would + sometime change its tone_. Yesterday rode through the old Italian + part of the City. Houses 6 or 7 stories high. Streets just wide + enough for a donkey cart to get through. Never can pass each other. + One has to back out. + + _Tuesday 31._ Took our usual walk. Listened to the band in the + Public Gardens. This is a poor, barren country. I believe the + plates are _licked by the inhabitants instead of the dogs_. This + place is too poor for _them_. The only good conditioned looking + people here are the priests. They are bursting with inward + satisfaction and joy. When in Paris last October we heard of a most + wonderful pair of earrings that had been presented to Adelina Patti + by a Gent who glided under the name of Khalil Bey, worth Millions! + When in Paris again in December there was a great stir about the + Private Picture Gallery of a very wealthy man who had met with + severe and great losses at the gaming table. Our friends tried to + obtain admission for us to see them, but through some slip we + failed. Upon our arrival in Nice, one day there was great confusion + and agitation among the Eager. Servants were standing in corners + and evidence of something was very vivid. Finally the mystery was + solved. And we learned that a great Prince had arrived from St. + Petersburg. A Turk! Who was sharing our fate (the order of things + is all reversed in Nice. You commence life there by beginning at + the top and working your way down) and taken rooms on the 6th + floor, accompanied by 2 servants, one especially to take care of + the Pipe. His name is Khalil Bey--about 50 years old--a hard, + Chinese, cast-iron face run when the iron was very hot--sinking + well into the mould--one eye almost blind--short small feet--he + seemed to commence to grow at the feet and grew bigger and wider as + he went up. + + _3rd._ He moves in the best "society" over here--has his Box at the + Opera--tells frankly his losses at cards--so many million + francs--is a man of influence even among a certain class and that + far above mediocre. Met him at an evening entertainment. Found him + a great admirer of Patti in certain _roles_--very good judgment + upon musical matters in general--and a professed _Gambler_. + + _4th._ Rained all day. A lost day to comfort outside and in. + + _5th._ Another day of the same sort. Weary with looking at the + sea. + + _6th._ Clearing. Sunshine at intervals. + + _7th._ Mr. Kinney called in afternoon. Conversation related to + Americans in Europe. Came to the conclusion that as a general rule + none but the class denominated "fast" come to Europe and like it. + Mr.---- said he would give any American young gentleman or lady + just 18 months in European society to lose all refinement and all + moral principle, young ladies in particular. The moral principle + cannot be strong when one is _laughed at for blushing_! + + _8th._ Mr. and Mrs. L---- came over in the evening. Sat two hours. + Discussed Europe generally and decided _America_ was the _only + place for decent people to live in_. _Death_ is all over Europe, an + epidemic that has no cure. Death of all moral responsibility. Death + of ambition in the way of virtue. Death of all comforts of life. + The last man that dies will be carried from the _card table_. + +In my own recollection of Nice the two men principally mentioned in my +mother's diary, Khalil Bey and Admiral Farragut, stand out strikingly. +Khalil Bey was a fabulously rich Turk who spent his life wandering +luxuriously over the face of the earth with a huge retinue of retainers +nearly as picturesque as he was. He was a big, dark, murderous looking +creature, not unattractive in a sinister, strange, and piratical way. He +had a wild and lurid record and was especially notorious for his +reckless gambling, at which his luck was said to be miraculous. He was +an opera enthusiast, having heard it in every city in Europe, and was +one of Adelina's admirers. My mother disliked him exceedingly, declaring +he was like a big snake. But my mother never had any tolerance for +foreign noblemen. There were many of them at Nice and her comments were +caustic and often apt. I remember her casual summing up of the Marquis +de Talleyrand (the particular friend of Mrs. Stevens, an American woman +from Hoboken whom he afterwards married) as "a young man belonging to +some goose pond or other!" + +Admiral Farragut, who was in the harbour with his flagship the +_Hartford_ and several other American battle-ships, was greatly feted, +being just then a great hero of the war. The United States Consul gave a +reception for him which he explained in advance was to be +"characteristically American." The only noticeable thing about the +entertainment seemed to be the quantity and variety of drinkables that +were unceasingly served by swift and persuasive waiters. The +Continentals must have had a startling impression of American thirst! +The Admiral himself, however, was hardly given time to swallow anything +at all, people were so anxious to ask him questions and to shake hands. + +The Stebbinses and McHenrys joined us when we had been in Nice only a +short time, and, after a little stay there together, we went on by way +of Genoa and the Corniche Road to Pisa, and thence to Florence. At +Florence we met the Admiral again and found him more charming the better +we knew him. In Florence, too, we had several glimpses of the Grisi +family, Madame and her three daughters. Grisi was, I think, a striking +example of a singer being born and not made. When she sang Adalgisa in +_Norma_ in Milan, she made a sudden and overwhelming hit. Next day every +one was rushing about demanding, "Who was her teacher? Who gave her this +wonderful style and tone?" Grisi herself was asked about it and she gave +the names of several teachers under whom she had worked. But, needless +to say, another Grisi was never made. In her case it didn't happen to be +the teacher. Often the credit is given to the master when it really +belongs to the pupil, or, rather, to _le bon Dieu_ who made the vocal +chords in the first place. For, however we may agree or disagree about +fundamental requirements for an artist--breath control, voice placing, +tone colour, interpretation,--the simple fact remains that the one great +essential for a singer is a voice! One little story that I recall of +Grisi interested me. It was said that, when she was growing old and +severe exertion told on her, she always, after her fall as Lucretia +Borgia, had a glass of beer come up through the floor to her and would +drink it as she lay there with her back half turned to the audience. +This is what was _said_; and it seemed to me like a very good scheme. + +The director of the railway between Rome and Naples, M. De la Haute, put +his private car at our disposal. In the present era of cars equipped +with baths and barber shops, libraries and writing rooms, it would seem +primitive, but it was quite the last word in the railroad luxury of that +period. I was charmed with the Italian scenery as we steamed through it +and, above all, with the highly pictorial peasants that we passed. Their +clothes, of quaint cut and vivid hues, were exactly like stage costumes. + +"Why," I exclaimed excitedly, peering from the car window, "they are all +just out of scenes from _Fra Diavolo_!" + +We were, indeed, going through the mountains of the _Fra Diavolo_ +country, where the inhabitants lived in continual fear of the bands of +brigands that infested the mountains. Zerlina and Fra Diavolo were +literally in their midst. + +M. De la Haute gave a delightful breakfast for us on one of the terraces +outside Naples with the turquoise blue bay beneath, the marvellous +Italian sky overhead, and Vesuvius before us. Albert Bierstadt, the +American artist, was of the company, and afterwards turned up in Rome, +whither we went next. When we made the ascent of Vesuvius, my mother +recounts in her diary: "There must have been at least a hundred Italian +devils jumping about and screaming to take us up. It seemed as if they +must have just jumped out of the burning brimstone." + +In Rome we dined with Charlotte Cushman. This was, of course, some years +before her death and she was not yet ravaged by her tragic illness. She +was very full of anecdotes of her friends, the Carlyles, Tennyson, and +others, whom she had just left in England. To our little party was added +Emma Stebbins, who had been doing famously in sculpture, and, also, +Harriet Hosmer, the artist, as well as one or two clever men. It was +Carnival Week, and so I had my first glimpse of a true Continental +_festa_. I had never before seen any real Latin merriment. The +Anglo-Saxon variety is apt to be heavy, rough, or vulgar. But those +fascinating people had the wonderful power of being genuinely and +innocently gay. They became like happy children at play. They threw +confetti, sang and laughed, and tossed flowers about. It was a veritable +lesson in joy to us more sober and commonplace Americans who looked on. + +While I was in Rome I was presented to the Pope, Pius IX, a most lovely +and genial personality with a delightful atmosphere about him. I was +told that he had very much wanted to be made Pope and had played the +invalid so that the Cardinals would not think it was very important +whether they elected him or not; so that they could say (as they did +say), "Let us elect him:--he'll die anyhow!" He was duly elected and, +just as soon as he was in the Pontifical Chair, his health became +miraculously restored! When we were presented I could not help being +amused at the extraordinary articles brought by people for the good man +to bless. One woman had a pair of marble hands. Another offered the +Pontiff a photograph of himself; and his Holiness had evident difficulty +in keeping a straight face as he explained to her that really he could +not bless a likeness of himself. Etiquette at these Vatican receptions +is very strict as to what one must wear, what one must do, and where one +must stand. Sebasti, of Sebasti e Reali, the famous Roman bankers, has +the tale to tell of a Hebrew millionaire from America who contrived to +secure an invitation to one of these select audiences and, not being +able to see the Pope clearly on account of the crowd, climbed upon a +chair to get a better view. In the twinkling of an eye a dozen +attendants were after him, whispering harshly, "Giu! Giu! Giu!" ("Get +down! Get down! Get down!") and the Israelite climbed down exclaiming in +crestfallen accents: "How did you know it?" + +I have never been presented to the present Pope, but I gather from my +friends in Rome that his administration is, as usual, a rather +complicated affair. The ruling power is Cardinal Rampolla, the Mephisto +of the Church, for whom a distinguished Marchesa has a _salon_ and +entertains, so that, in this way, he can meet people on neutral ground. + +On our return trip we crossed Mont Cenis by diligence. From Lombardy, +with the smell of orange flowers all about us, we mounted up and up +until the green growing things became fewer and frailer, and the air +chillier and more rarified. Between six and seven thousand feet up we +struck snow and changed to a sleigh. We made the whole trip in eleven +hours--a record in those days. Think of it, you modern tourists who +cross Mont Cenis in three! But you will do well to envy us our diligence +and sleigh just the same, for you--oh, horrors!--have to do it through a +tunnel instead of over a mountain pass! We felt quite adventurous, for +it was generally considered a rather hazardous undertaking. By March +first we were back again in Paris and, before the end of the month, Mr. +Jarrett and Arditi joined us with my renewed contract with Colonel +Mapleson. + +It seemed to me a very short period before it was time for me to go back +to Drury Lane for the real London season. Spring had come and Mapleson +was ready to make a record opera season; so we said good-bye to our +friends in Paris and turned once more toward England. + + + + +CHAPTER XVI + +FELLOW-ARTISTS + + +My mother's diary reads as follows: + + _March 25_ Left Paris for London accompanied by Arditi and Mr. + Jarrett. Came by Dover and Calais. Very sick. Had a band on the + boat to entice the passengers into the idea that everything was + lovely and there is no such thing as seasickness. Arrived in London + at ten minutes before six. + + _28._ Went out house-hunting. Rooms too small. + + _29._ House-hunting. Dirty houses. A vast difference between + American and English housekeeping. Couldn't stand it. Visited ten. + Col. Chandler came in the evening. Miss Jarrett went with us. + + _30._ Went again. Saw a highfalutin Lady who said she wanted to get + a _fancy price_ for her house. Couldn't see it. + + _April 1st._ Miss Jarrett, Lou and I started again and had about + given up the ship when Louise discovered a house with "to let" on + it. So we ventured in without cards. Lovely! _Neat_ and _nice_. + Beautiful large garden, lawn, etc. We were taken to see the Agent + who had it in charge. When we got outside we 3 embraced each other + and I screamed with _joy_. She (the Landlady) was the first to have + a house "to let" that was not painted and powdered an inch thick. + + _2._ Rehearsal of _Traviata_ for the 4th. Three hours long. + Bettini, Santley, Poley and "Miss Kellogg." + + _3._ Stage rehearsal. + + _4._ First appearance in the regular season of Miss Kellogg in + _Traviata_. Prince of Wales came down end of 2nd act and + congratulated her warmly. Also brought the warmest congratulations + from the Princess--splendid--called out three times--received 8 + bouquets. Forgot powder--sent Annie home--too late--hurried, + daubed, nervous, out of breath. Couldn't get champagne opened quick + enough--rushed and tore--delayed orchestra 5 minutes--got on all + right--at last--went off splendidly. Miss Jarrett, Mr. Jarrett, + Arditi, Mr. Bennett of the Press [critic of _The Daily Telegraph_] + came and congratulated Louise. The Prince of Wales was very + kind--said he remembered the hospitality of the Americans to him + years agone. [Louise] Had a new ball room dress--all white with red + camilias. + +This somewhat incoherent record as jotted down by my mother is sketchy +but true in spirit. Never in my life, before or since, was I ever so +nervous as at our opening performance in London of _Traviata_; no, not +even had my American _debut_ tried me so sorely. Everything in the world +went wrong that could go wrong on this occasion. I forgot my powder and +the skirt of my dress, and Annie, my maid, had to rush home in a cab to +get them. I tore my costume while making my first entrance and had to +play the entire act with a streamer of silk dangling at my feet. I went +on half made up, daubed, nervous, out of breath. _Never_ was I in such a +state of nerves. But to my astonishment I made a very big success. There +was a burst of applause after the first act and I could hardly believe +my ears. It struck me as most extraordinary that what I considered so +unsatisfactory should please the house. Several of the artists singing +with me came to me during the evening much upset. + +"Don't you know why everything on the stage has been going so badly +to-night?" they said. "We've a _jettatura_ in front!" + +Madame Erminie Rudersdorf, the mother of Richard Mansfield, was in one +of the boxes; and she was generally believed to have the Evil Eye. The +Italian singers took it very seriously indeed and made horns all through +the opera (that is, kept their fingers crossed) to ward off the satanic +influence! Madame Rudersdorf was a tall, heavy, and swarthy Russian with +ominously brilliant eyes; and one of the most commanding personalities I +ever came in contact with. Although she had a dangerously bad temper, I +never saw any evidences of it, nor of the _jettatura_ either. She came +that night and congratulated me:--and it meant something from her. + +My professional vocation has brought me up against almost every +conceivable superstition, from Brignoli's stuffed deer's head to the +more commonplace fetish against thirteen as a number. But I never saw +any one more obsessed by an idea of this sort than Christine Nilsson. +She actually would not sing unless some one "held her thumbs" first. +"Holding thumbs" is quite an ancient way of inviting good luck. One +promises to "hold one's thumbs" for a friend who is going through some +ordeal, like a first night or an operation for appendicitis or a wedding +or anything else desperate. Nilsson was the first person I ever knew who +practised the charm the other way about. Before she would even go on the +stage somebody, if only the stage carpenter, had to take hold of her two +thumbs and press them. She was convinced that the mystic rite brought +her good fortune. Many of the Italian artists that I knew believed in +the efficacy of coral as a talisman and always kept a bit of it about +them to rub "for luck" just before they went on for their part of the +performance. Somebody has told me that Emma Trentini had a queer +individual superstition: when she was singing for Hammerstein she would +never go on the stage until he had given her a quarter of a dollar! +Ridiculous as all these _idees fixes_ appear when writing them down, I +am convinced that they do help some people. A sense of confidence is a +great, an invaluable thing, and whatever can bring that about must +necessarily, however foolish in itself, make for a measure of success. I +caught Nilsson's "holding thumbs" trick myself without ever believing in +it, and often have done it to people since in a sort of general +luck-wishing, friendly spirit. The last time I was in Algiers I entered +an antique shop that I always visit there and found the little woman who +kept it in a somewhat indisposed and depressed state of mind:--so much +so in fact that when I left I pinched her thumbs for luck. Not long +afterwards I had the sweetest letter from her. "I cannot thank you +enough," she wrote; "you did something--whatever it was--that has +brought me luck. I feel sure it is all through you!" + +To return to my mother's diary after our first performance of _Traviata_ +in London: + + _Sunday._ Sat around. Afternoon drove through Hyde Park. + + _Monday 6th._ Rehearsal of _Gazza Ladra_. I went all over to find + dress for Linda--failed. + + _Tuesday._ Moved out to 48 Grove End Road--8 guineas a week. + Received check on County Bank from Mapleson for L100. Drew the + money. + + _Wednesday 8th._ Heard rehearsal of _Gazza Ladra_. Remained in + theatre till 5.25 P.M. fitting costume. Rode home in 22 minutes. + + _Thursday 9th._ Saw Linda. Magnificent. Best thing. Called out + three times. Bouquet--dress--yellow. _Moire_ blue satin apron--pink + roses--gay! + + _Friday--Good Friday._ Regulated house. In the evening _Don + Giovanni_ was performed. Louise wore her Barber dress--pink satin + one--made by Madame Vinfolet in New York--splendid! Poli told me + that in the height of the Messiah Season he often made 75 guineas a + week. He looked at his operatic engagement as secondary. + + _Sunday 12._ Louise received basket of Easter eggs with a beautiful + bluebird over them from Mrs. McHenry--Paris--beautiful--shall take + it to America. Mrs. G---- dined with us at 5. + + _13th._ Rehearsal of _G. Ladra_--3 hours. I took cold waiting in + cold room. No letters. + + _Tuesday 14._ Letters from Mary Gray, Nell and Leonard and Carter. + Pay day at Theatre but it didn't come. 3 hours rehearsal. At 4 P.M. + Louise, Mr. S---- and I called by appointment upon the Duchess of + Somerset. Met her 3 nieces and the Belgian Minister--a splendid + affair--tea was served at 5--went home--dined at 6--went to Covent + Garden to hear Mario & Fionetti, the latter said to be the best + type of Italian school. Louise thought little of it. Didn't know + whether to think less of Davidson's judgment or more of her own. + + * * * * * + + _21st._ Green room rehearsal of _Gazza Ladra_. _Don Giovanni_ in + the evening--fine house. + + _22nd._ Rehearsed one act of _Gazza Ladra_. Louise tired and + nervous. Rained. Santley rode part way home with us. + + _23rd._ _Rigoletto_--full house--Duke of Newcastle brought Lord + Duppelin for introduction. Opera went off splendidly. Check for + L100. Saw the Godwins--Bryant's son-in-law. + + _24th. Friday._ Drew the money. Reception at the Langs. + + _25th._ Louise went to new Philharmonic to rehearsal. In the + evening went to Queen's Theatre to see Toole in _Oliver + Twist_--splendid. Mr. Santley went to Paris. + + _26th. Sunday._ Dr. Quinn, Mr. Fechter and Arditi called. Louise + and Miss Jarrett washed the dog! [This pet was one of the puppies + of Titjiens's tiny and beautiful Pomeranian and I had it for a long + time and adored it.] The 3 Miss Edwards called. Letter from Sarah. + + _27._ Louise and I go to Rehearsal of _Gazza Ladra_ and to hear Mr. + Fechter in _No Thoroughfare_. He thinks more of himself than of the + thoroughfare--good performance though. Letter from George + Farnsworth. + + _28._ Clear and cold. Rehearsed _Gazza Ladra_. + + _29._ [Louise] sang at Philharmonic--duet _Nozze di Figaro_ with + Foli. + + _30th._ Long rehearsal of Gazza. Dined at Duchess of Somerset's at + 8 P.M. Met many best men of London. Duke of Newcastle took Louise + in to dinner. Col. Williams took me. Duchess is an old tyrant--sang + Louise to death--unmerciful--I despise her for her selfishness. + +Indeed, every minute of those spring weeks was occupied and more than +occupied. I never was so busy before and never had such a good time. The +"season" was a delightful one; and certainly no one had a more varied +part in it than I. Thanks to the Dowager Duchess and our friends we went +out frequently; and I was singing four and five times a week counting +concerts. Private concerts were a great fad that season and I have often +sung at two or three different ones in the same evening. + +Colonel Mapleson was in great feather, having three _prime donne_ at his +disposal at once, for Christine Nilsson had soon joined us, that +curious mixture of "Scandinavian calm and Parisian elegance" as I have +heard her described. No two singers were ever less alike, either +physically or temperamentally, than she and I; yet, oddly enough, we +over and over again followed each other in the same _roles_. Titjiens, +Nilsson, and I sang together a great deal that season, not only in opera +but also in concert. Our voices went well together and we always got on +pleasantly. Madame Titjiens was no longer at the zenith of her great +power, but she was very fine for all that. I admired Titjiens greatly as +an artist in spite of her perfunctory acting. Cold and stately, she was +especially effective in purely classic music, having at her command all +its traditions:--Donna Anna for instance, and Fidelio and the Contessa. +I sang with her in the Mozart operas. Particularly do I recall one night +when the orchestra was under the direction of Sir Michael Costa. Both +Titjiens and Nilsson were singing with me, and the former had to follow +me in the _recitative_. Where Susanna gives the attacking note to the +Contessa Sir Michael's 'cello gave me the wrong chord. I perceived it +instantly, my absolute pitch serving me well, but I hardly knew what to +do. I was singing in Italian, which made the problem even more +difficult; but, as I sang, my sixth sense was working subconsciously. I +was saying over and over in my brain: "_I've got to give Titjiens the +right note or the whole thing will be a mess. How am I going to do it?_" +I sang around in circles until I was able to give the Contessa the +correct note. Titjiens gratefully caught it up and all came out well. +When the number was over, both Titjiens and Nilsson came and +congratulated me for what they recognised as a good piece of +musicianship. But Sir Michael was in a rage. + +"What do you mean," he demanded, "by taking liberties with the music +like that?" + +One cannot afford to antagonise a conductor and he was, besides, so +irascible a man that I did not care to mention to him that his 'cello +had been at fault. He was a most indifferent musician as well as a +narrow, obstinate man, although London considered him a very great +leader. He only infuriated me the more by remarking indulgently, one +night not long after, as if overlooking my various artistic +shortcomings: "Well, well,--you're a very pretty woman anyway!" It was +his "anyway" that irrevocably settled matters between us. He disliked +Nilsson too. He declared both in public and in private that her use of +her voice was mere "charlatanry and trickery" and not worthy to be +called musical. Nilsson was not, in fact, a good musician; few _prime +donne_ are. On one occasion she did actually sing one bar in advance of +the accompaniment for ten consecutive measures. This is almost +inconceivable, but she did it, and Sir Michael never forgave her. + +Mapleson was planning as a _tour de force_ with which to stun London a +series of operas in which he could present all of us. "All-star casts" +were rare in those days. Most managers saved their singers and doled +them out judiciously, one at a time, in a very conservative fashion. But +Mapleson had other notions. Our "all-star" Mozart casts were the wonder +of all London. Think of _Don Giovanni_ with Santley as the Don and +Titjiens as Donna Anna; Nilsson as Donna Elvira, Rockitanski of Vienna +the Leporello, and myself as Zerlina! Think of _Le Nozze di Figaro_ with +Titjiens as the Countess, Nilsson Cherubino, Santley the Count, and me +as Susanna! These were casts unequalled in all Europe--almost, I +believe, in all time! + +Gye, of Covent Garden, declared that we were killing the goose that laid +the golden egg by putting all our _prime donne_ into one opera. He said +that this made it not only impossible for rival houses to draw any +audiences, but that it also cut off our own noses. Nobody wanted to go +on ordinary nights to hear operas that had only one _prima donna_ in +them when they could go on star nights and hear three at once. However, +Colonel Mapleson found that the scheme paid and our "triple-cast" +performances brought us most sensational houses. Personally, as I have +already said, I never liked Mapleson, and I had many causes for +resentment in a business way. I remember one battle I had with him and +the stage manager about a dress I was to wear in _Le Nozze di Figaro_. I +do not recall what it was they wanted me to wear; but I know that, +whatever it was, I would not wear it. I left in the middle of rehearsal, +drove home in an excited state of indignation, and seized upon poor +Colonel Stebbins, always my steady help in time of trouble. He went, +saw, fought, and conquered, after which the rehearsals went on more or +less peaceably. + +Undoubtedly we had some fine artists at Her Majesty's, but occasionally +Mapleson missed a big chance of securing others. One day we were putting +on our wraps after rehearsal when my mother and I heard a lovely +contralto voice. On inquiry, we learned that Colonel Mapleson and Arditi +were trying the voice of a young Italian woman who had come to London in +search of an engagement. The Colonel and the Director sat in the +orchestra while the young woman sang an _aria_ from _Semiramide_. When +the trial was over the girl went away at once and I rushed out to speak +to Mapleson. + +"Surely you engaged that enchanting singer!" I exclaimed. + +"Indeed I didn't," he replied. + +She went directly to Gye at Covent Garden, who engaged her promptly and, +when she appeared two weeks later, she made a sensation. Her name was +Sofia Scalchi. + +Besides the private concerts of that season there were also plenty of +public concerts, a particularly notable one being a Handel Festival at +the Crystal Palace on May 1st, when I sang _Oh, had I Jubal's Lyre_! +Everything connected with that occasion was on a large scale. There were +seven thousand people in the house, the largest audience by far that I +had ever sung to before. The place was so crowded that people hung about +the doors trying to get in even after every seat was filled; and not one +person left the hall until after I had finished--a remarkable record in +its way! Some time later, when I was on my way home to America and +wanted to buy some antiques, I wandered into a little, odd Dickens-like +shop in Wardour Street. I wanted to have some articles sent on approval +to meet me at Liverpool, but hesitated to ask the old man in the shop to +take such a risk without knowing me. To my surprise he smiled at me a +kindly, wrinkled smile and said, with the prettiest old-fashioned bow: + +"Madame, you are welcome to take any liberties you will with my entire +stock. I heard you sing 'Jubal's Lyre.' I shall never forget it, nor be +able to repay you for the pleasure you gave me!" + +I always felt this to be one of my sincerest tributes. Perhaps that is +partly why the night of my first Crystal Hall Concert remains so clearly +defined in my memory. + +My mother's diary of this period continues: + + _May 4._ Mr. Santley dined with us. Played Besique in the evening. + _I beat_. + + _5._ Louise and I went to St. James Hall rehearsal. After went to + Theatre. Learned Nilsson did not have as good a house 2nd night as + Louise's first one in _La Gazza Ladra_. Mr. Arditi came to rehearse + the waltz. + + _6th._ _La Gazza Ladra._ Full house--enthusiasm--Duke of Newcastle + came in. + + _7._ Arditi's rehearsal for his concert at his house at 5 + P.M.--went--house full--hot and funny. Mr. S---- came in the + evening--played one game Besique. + + _8._ Intended to go to Haymarket Theatre but Miss J---- had + headache. Santley came in the afternoon to practise Susanna. + + _9._ Santley called. McHenry and Stebbins, with another Budget of + disagreeables from Mapleson who, not satisfied with cheating her + [Louise] out of $500., deliberately asked her to give him 3 nights + more! Shall have his money if we have to go to law about it. + + _Monday._ [Louise] Sang at Old Philharmonic flute song from _The + Star_. Mr. Stebbins went to Jarrett and told him Miss Kellogg would + sing no longer than the 15th--her engagement closes then--but that + Mapleson must pay her what he owed her--that he would have the + checks that day or sue him. + + _Tuesday._ Just got the second check of L150, showing that a little + _hell fire and brimstone administered in large doses_ is a good + thing. The Englishman has not outwitted the Yankee yet! + + _12._ Louise sang _Don Giovanni_--Titjiens "Donna Anna," Santley + "Don Giovanni," Nilsson "Elvira." Crowded house--seats sold at a + premium--Louise received all the honours--everything encored--4 + bouquets. Nilsson and Titjiens were encored only for the grand + trio. The applause on _Batti Batti_ was something unequalled. + + _13._ Went to photographers. Miss Jarrett, Santley and ourselves + dined at Mr. Stebbins'--went to hear Lucca in _Fra Diavolo_--was + delighted--she was not pretty but intelligent--sang well--not + remarkable, but showed great cleverness--full of talent--acted it + well--filled out the scenes--kept the thing going. The Tenor was + good. I remained through the second act. Dropped my fan onto a bald + head. Went over to Drury Lane--heard one act of _The Hugenots_. + + _14._ Mr. S---- dined with us--played Besique in the + evening--Louise beat of course. + + _15._ [Louise] Sang _Don Giovanni_ to a full house. Bennett came + and Smith and Mapleson and Duke of Newcastle. + + _16._ Santley sang in rehearsal _Le Nozze di Figaro_. Mr. Stebbins + dined with us. Played solitaire in the evening with the new Besique + box. + +I sang several times at the Crystal Palace Concerts with Sims Reeves, +the idolised English tenor. Never have I heard of or imagined an artist +so spoiled as Reeves. The spring was a very hot one for London, although +to us who were accustomed to the summer heat of America, it seemed +nothing. But poor Sims Reeves evidently expected to have heat +prostration or a sunstroke, for he always wore a big cork helmet to +rehearsals, the kind that officers wear on the plains of India. The +picture he made sitting under his huge helmet with a white puggaree +around it, fanning himself feebly, was one never to be forgotten. He had +a somewhat frumpy wife who waited on him like a slave. I had little +patience with him, especially with his trick of disappointing his +audiences at the eleventh hour. But he could sing! He was a real artist, +and, when he was not troubling about the temperature, or his diet, he +was an artist with whom it was a privilege to sing. I remember singing +with him and Mme. Patey at a concert at Albert Hall. Mme. Patey was an +admirable contralto and gifted with a superb technique. We three sang a +trio without a rehearsal and, when it was over, Reeves declared that it +was really wonderful the way in which we all three had "taken breath" at +exactly the same points, showing that we were all well trained and could +phrase a song in the only one correct way. This was also noticed and +remarked upon by several professionals who were present. + +I also sang with Alboni. At an Albert Hall concert on my second visit to +England a year or two later, I said to her: + +"Madame, I cannot tell you how honoured I feel in singing on the same +programme with you." + +She bowed and smiled. She was a very, very large woman, heavily built, +but she carried her size with remarkable dignity. I was considerably +amused when she replied: + +"Ah, Mademoiselle, I am only a shadow of what I have been!" + +My most successful song that season was my old song _Beware_. It was +unusual to see a _prima donna_ play her own accompaniment, which I +always did to this song and to most _encores_. The simple, rather +insipid melody was written by Moulton, the first husband of the present +Baronne de Hegeman, and it was not long before it was the rage in the +sentimental younger set of London. How tired I became of that ridiculous +sign-post cover and the "As Sung by Miss Clara Louise Kellogg" staring +up at me! And how much more tired of the foolish tune: + +[Illustration: Musical notation; I know a maid-en fair to see, Take +care! Take care!] + +One of the greatest honours paid me was the command to sing in one of +the two concerts at Buckingham Palace given each season by the reigning +sovereign. I have always kept the letter that told me I had been chosen +for this great privilege. Cusins, from whom it came, was the Director of +the Queen's music at the Palace. + + + + +CHAPTER XVII + +THE ROYAL CONCERTS AT BUCKINGHAM + + +The Royal Private Concerts at Buckingham Palace formed in those days, +and I believe still form, the last word in exclusiveness. Many persons +who have been presented at court, in company with a great crowd of other +social aspirants, never come close enough to the inner circle of royalty +to get within even "speaking distance" of these concerts. In them the +court etiquette is almost mediaeval in its brilliant formality; and yet a +certain intimacy prevails which could not be possible in a less +carefully chosen gathering. So sacred an institution is the Royal +Concert that they have a fixed price--twenty-five guineas for all the +solo singers, whatever their customary salaries,--the discrepancies +between the greater and the lesser being supposedly filled in with the +colossal honour done the artists by being asked to appear. + +Queen Victoria seldom presided at these or similar functions. The Prince +of Wales usually represented the Crown and did the honours, always +exceedingly well. I have been told by people who professed to know that +his good nature was rather taken advantage of by his august mother, who +not only worked him half to death in his official capacity, but never +allowed him enough income for the purpose. Personally, I always liked +the Prince. He was a tactful, courteous man with real artistic feeling +and cultivation. He filled a difficult position with much graciousness +and good sense. More than once has he come behind the scenes during an +operatic performance to congratulate and encourage me. The Princess was +good looking, but was said to be both dull and inflexible. The former +impression might easily have been the result of her deafness that so +handicapped her where social graces were concerned. She could not hear +herself speak and, therefore, used a voice so low as to be almost +inaudible. When she spoke to me I could not hear a word of what she +said. I hope it was agreeable. + +My mother's entries in her diary at this point are: + + _Monday. 17_. 3 P.M. Rehearsal at Anderson's for Buckingham Palace + Concert. Met Lucca there. A perfect original. Private concert in + the evening at No. 7 Grafton Street. Pinsuti conducted. Louise + _encored_ with _Beware_. Concert commenced at eleven. Closed at 2 + A.M. Saw about five bushels of diamonds. + + _18th. Tuesday._ Went to Buckingham Palace. Rehearsed at eleven. + Very good palace, but dirty. + + _19._ Rehearsal of Somnambula. Got home at 4. Mr. S---- came in the + evening. + + _20._ Buckingham Palace Concert. + +The rehearsal at Buckingham Palace was held in the great ballroom with +the Queen's orchestra, under Cusins, and the artists were Titjiens, +Lucca, Faure, and myself. These concerts were composed of picked singers +from both Covent Garden and Her Majesty's and were supposed to represent +the best of each. As my mother notes, I first met Pauline Lucca +there--such an odd little creature. She amused me immensely. She was +always doing absurd things and making quaint, entertaining speeches. +She was not pretty, but her eyes were beautiful. On this occasion, I +remember, Titjiens was rehearsing one of her great, classic _arias_. +When she had finished we all, the orchestra included, applauded. Lucca +was sitting between Faure and myself, her feet nowhere near touching the +floor, and she applauded rhythmically and quite indifferently, +slap-bang! slap-bang! slinging her arms out so as to hit both of us and +then slapping them together, the while she kicked up her small feet like +a child of six. She was regardless of appearances and was applauding to +please herself. + +Lucca used to warn me not to abuse my upper notes. We knew her as almost +a mezzo. She told me, however, that she had once had an exceedingly high +voice, and that one of her best parts was Leonora in _Trovatore_. She +had abused her gift; but she always had a delightful quality of voice +and put a great deal of personality into her work. + +The approach to the Palace on concert nights was very impressive, for +the Grenadier Guards were drawn up outside, and inside were other guards +even more gorgeously arrayed than the cavalry. In the concert room +itself was stationed a royal bodyguard of the Yeomen of the Guards. The +commanding officer was called the Exon-in-Waiting. The proportions of +the room were magnificent and there were some fine frescoes and an +effective way of lighting up the stained glass windows from the outside; +but the general impression was not particularly regal. The decorations +were plain and dull--for a palace. The stage was arranged with chairs, +rising tier above tier, very much like a stage for oratorio singers. +Before royalty appears, the singers seat themselves on the stage and +remain there until their turn comes to sing. This is always a trial to +a singer, who really needs to get into the mood and to warm up to her +appearance. To stand up in cold blood and just _sing_ is discouraging. +The prospect of this dreary deliberateness did not tend to raise our +spirits as we sat and waited. + +At last, after we had become utterly depressed and out of spirits, there +was a little stir and the great doors at the side of the ballroom were +thrown open. First of all entered the Silver-Sticks in Waiting, a dozen +or so of them, backing in, two by two. All were, of course, +distinguished men of title and position; and they were dressed in +costumes in which silver was the dominant note and carried long wands of +silver. They were followed by the Gold-Sticks in Waiting--men of even +more exalted rank--and, finally, by the Royal Party. We all arose and +curtesied, remaining standing until their Highnesses were seated. + +The concerts were called informal and therefore long trains and court +veils were not insisted on; but the men had to appear in ceremonial +dress--knee breeches and silk stockings--and the women invariably wore +gorgeous costumes and family jewels, so that the scene was one full of +colour and glitter. The uniforms of the Ambassadors of different +countries made brilliant spots of colour. The Prince of Wales and his +Princess simply sparkled with orders and decorations. I happened to hear +the names of a few of her Royal Highness's. They were the Orders of +Victoria and Albert, the Star of India, St. Catherine of Russia, and the +Danish Family Order. She also wore many of the crown jewels, and with +excellent taste on every occasion I have seen her. With a black satin +gown and court train of crimson, for example, she wore only diamonds; +while another time I remember she wore pearls and sapphires with a +velvet gown of cream and pansy colour. Such good sense and discretion in +the choice of gems is rare. So many women seem to think that any jewels +are appropriate to any toilet. + +Tremendously august personages used to be in the audiences of those +Buckingham Palace concerts at which I sang then and later, such as the +Duke and Duchess of Teck, the Prince and Princess Christian of +Schleswig-Holstein, the Duke and Duchess of Cambridge, the Crown Prince +of Sweden and Norway, the Duke and Duchess of Edinburgh. Indeed, +royalty, peers of the realm and ambassadors or representatives, and +members of the court were the only auditors. In spite of this the +concerts were deadly dull, partly, no doubt, because everybody was so +enormously impressed by the ceremony of the occasion and by the rigours +of court etiquette that they did not dare move or hardly breathe. There +was one woman present at my first Buckingham Palace concert, a +lady-in-waiting (she looked as if she had become accustomed to waiting) +who was even more stiff than any one else and about whose decollete +there seemed to be no termination. Never once, to my certain knowledge, +did she move either head or body an inch to the right or to the left +throughout the performance. + +A breach of etiquette was committed on one occasion by a friend of mine, +a compatriot, who had accompanied me to one of these gilt-edged affairs. +She stood up behind the very last row of the chorus and--used her +opera-glasses! Not unnaturally, she wanted for once, poor girl, to get a +good look at royalty; but it is needless to say that she was hastily and +summarily suppressed. + +When the Prince and Princess were seated the concert could begin. There +were two customs that made those functions particularly oppressive. One +was that all applause was forbidden. An artist, particularly a singer or +stage person of any kind, lives and breathes through approbation: and +for a singer to sing her best and then sit down in a dead and stony +silence without any sort of demonstration, is a very chilling +experience. The only indication that a performance had been acceptable +was when the Prince of Wales wriggled his programme in an approving +manner. A hand-clap would have been a terrific breach of etiquette. The +other drawback--and the one that affected the guests even more than the +artists--was that, when once the Prince and Princess were seated, no one +could rise on any pretext or provocation whatever. I think it was at my +second appearance at the Royal Concerts that an amusing incident +occurred which impressed the inconvenience of this regulation upon my +memory. The Duchess of Edinburgh, daughter of the Czar, entered in the +Prince of Wales's party. She looked an irritable, dissatisfied, bilious +person; and I was told that she was always talking about being "the +daughter of the Czar of all the Russias" and that it galled her that +even the Princess of Wales took precedence over her. Those were the good +old days of tie-backs, made of elastic and steel, a sort of modified +hoop-skirt with all of the hoop in the back. The tie-back was the +passing of the hoop and its management was an education in itself. I +remember mine came from Paris and I had had a bit of difficulty in +learning to sit down in it gracefully. Well--the Duchess of Edinburgh +had not mastered the art. She was all right until she sat down and +looked very regal in a gown of thick, heavy white silk and the most +gorgeous of jewels--encrusted diamonds and Russian rubies, the latter +nearly the size of a pigeon's eggs. Her tiara and stomacher were so +magnificent that they appalled me. The Prince and Princess sat down and +every one else followed suit, the daughter of the Czar of all the +Russias among the others in the front row. And she sat down wrong. Her +tie-back tilted up as she went down; her skirt rose high in front, +revealing a pair of large feet, clad in white shoes, and large ankles, +nearly up to her knees. There was a footstool under the large feet and +they were very much in evidence the whole evening, posing, entirely +against their owner's will, on a temporary monument. The awful part of +it was that the Duchess knew all about it and was so furious that she +could hardly contain herself. It was a study to watch the daughter of +the Czar of all the Russias in these circumstances. Her face showed how +much she wanted to get up and pull down her dress and hide her robust +pedal extremities, but court etiquette forbade, and the Duchess +suffered. + +The end of everything, as a matter of course, was _God Save the Queen_ +and, as there were nearly always two _prime donne_ present, each of us +sang one verse. All the artists and the chorus sang the third, which +constituted "Good-night" and was the official closing of the +performance. I usually sang the first verse. When the concert was over, +the Prince and Princess with the lesser royalties filed out. They passed +by the front of the stage and always had some agreeable thing to say. I +recall with much pleasure Prince Arthur--the present Duke of +Connaught--stopping to compliment me on a song I had just sung--the +Polonaise from _Mignon_--and to remind me that I had sung it at Admiral +Dahlgren's reception at the Navy Yard in Washington during his American +visit. + +"You sang that for me in Washington, didn't you, Miss Kellogg?" he said; +and I was greatly pleased by the slight courteous remembrance. + +After royalty had departed every one drew a long breath of partial +relaxation. The guests could then move about with more or less freedom, +talk with each other, and speak with the artists if they felt so +inclined. I was impressed by the stiffness, the shyness and awkwardness +of the English people--of even these very great English people, the +women especially. One would suppose that authority and ease and +graciousness would be in the very blood of those who are, as the saying +is, "to the manner born," but they did not seem to have that "manner." +Finally I came to the conclusion that they really _liked_ to appear shy +and _gauche_, and deliberately affected the stiffness and the +awkwardness. + +So much has been said about the Victorian prejudice against divorce and +against scandal of all sorts that no one will be surprised when I say +that, on one occasion when I sang at the Palace, I was the only woman +singer whom the ladies present spoke to, although the gentlemen paid +much attention to the others. The Duchess of Newcastle was particularly +cordial to me, as were also the wife of our American Ambassador and +Consuelo, Duchess of Manchester. My fellow-artists on that occasion were +Adelina Patti and Trebelli Bettina and, as each of them had been +associated with scandal, they were left icily alone. At that time Patti +and Nicolini were not married and the papers had much to say about the +tenor's desertion of his family. I have sung with Nilsson and Patti and +Lucca at these concerts. I have sung with Faure and Santley and Capoul +(nice little Capoul, known in America as "the ladies' man") and I have +sung with Scalchi and Titjiens. I have sung there with even the great +Mario. + +There was a supper at the palace after the Royal Concerts--two supper +tables in fact--one for the royal family and one for the artists. I +caught a glimpse on my first appearance there of the table set for the +former with the historic gold plate, with which English crowned heads +entertain their guests. It was splendid, of course, although very heavy +and ponderous, and the food must needs have been something superlative +to have fitted it. I doubt if it was, however, as British cooks are apt +to be mediocre, even those in palaces. Cooking is a matter of the +Epicurean temperament or, rather, with the British, the lack of it. Our +supper was not at all bad in spite of this, although little Lucca did +turn up her nose at it and at the arrangements. + +"What!" she exclaimed tempestuously, "stay here to 'second supper'! +Never! These English prigs want to make us eat with the servants! You +may stay for their horrid supper if you choose. But I would rather +starve--" and off she went, all rustling and fluttering with childish +indignation. + +It was at one of these after-concert "receptions" at the palace that I +had quite a long chat with Adelina Patti about her coming to America. I +urged it, for I knew that a fine welcome was awaiting her here. But +Nicolini,--her husband for the moment,--who was sitting near, exclaimed: +"_Vous voulez la tuer!_" ("Do you want to kill her!") It seems that they +were both terribly afraid of crossing the ocean, although they +apparently recovered from their dread in later years. + +There was one Royal Concert which will always remain in my memory as the +most marvellous and brilliant spectacle, socially speaking, of my whole +life. It was the one given in honour of the Queen's being made Empress +of India and among the guests were not only the aristocracy of Great +Britain, but all the Eastern princes and rajahs representing her +Majesty's new empire. At that time hardly any one had been in India. +Nowadays people make trips around the world and run across to take a +look at the Orient whenever they feel inclined. But then India sounded +to us like a fairy-tale place, impossibly rich and mysterious, a country +out of _The Arabian Nights_ at the very least. + +My mother and I were then living in Belgrave Mansions, not far from the +palace nor from the Victoria Hotel where the Indian princes put up, and +we used to see them passing back and forth, their attendants bearing +exquisitely carved and ornamented boxes containing choice jewels and +decorations and offerings to "The Great White Queen across the +Seas,"--offerings as earnest of good faith and pledges of loyalty. I was +glad to be "commanded" for the Royal Concert at which they were to be +entertained, for I knew that it would be a splendid pageant. And it +turned out to be, as I have said, the richest display I ever saw. The +rich stuffs of the costumes lent themselves most fittingly to a lavish +exhibition of jewels. The ornaments of the royal princesses and +peeresses that I had been admiring up to that occasion seemed as nothing +compared to this array. Every Eastern potentate appeared to be trying to +vie with all the others as to the gems he wore in his turban. + +It would be impossible for me to say how interesting I found all this +sort of thing. It was like a play to me--a delicious play, in which I, +too, had my part. I am an imperialist by nature. I love pomp and +ceremony and circumstance and titles. The few times that I have ever +been dissatisfied with my experiences in the lands of crowned heads, it +was merely because there wasn't quite grandeur enough to suit my taste! + + + + +CHAPTER XVIII + +THE LONDON SEASON + + +Our house in St. John's Wood that we rented for our first London season +was small, but it had a front door and a back garden and, on the whole, +we were very happy there. Whenever my mother became bored or +dissatisfied she thought of the hotels on the Continent and immediately +cheered up. There many people sought us out, and others were brought to +see us. Newcastle was always coming with someone interesting in tow. +Leonard Jerome, who built the Jockey Club, came with Newcastle, I +remember, and so did Chevalier Wyckoff, who had something to do with +_The Herald_, and did not use his title. + +[Illustration: =Duke of Newcastle= + +From a photograph by John Burton & Sons] + +It was always said of the Duke and Duchess of Newcastle that "he married +her for her money and she married him for his title, so that they each +got what they wanted." It may have been true and probably was, for they +did not seem an ardently devoted couple, and yet it is difficult to +believe the rather cruel report--they were both so much too lovable to +merit it. The Duchess was a beauty and, when she wore the big, blue, +Hope Diamond,--(I have often seen her wearing it) she was a most +striking figure. As for Newcastle himself, I always found him a most +simple, warm-hearted, generous man, full of delicate and kindly +feelings. He had big stables and raced his horses all the time, but +it was said of him that he generally lost at the races and one might +almost know that he would. He was a sort of "mark" for the racing sharks +and they plucked him in a shameless manner. I first met the Newcastles +at the dinner table of the Dowager Duchess of Somerset, and more than +once afterwards has Newcastle whispered to her "hang etiquette" and +taken me in to dinner instead of some frumpy marchioness or countess. + +We became acquainted with the Tennants of Richmond Terrace. Their house +was headquarters for an association of Esoteric Buddhism;--A. P. +Sinnett, the author of the book entitled _Esoteric Buddhism_, was a +prominent figure there. The family is perhaps best known from the fact +that Miss Tennant married the celebrated explorer Stanley. But to me it +always stood for the centre of occult societies. The household was an +interesting one but not particularly peaceful. + +I suppose the world is full of queer people and situations, but I do +think that among the queerest of both must be ranked Lord Dudley, who +owned Her Majesty's Theatre. He lived in Park Lane and was a very grand +person in all ways, and, according to hearsay, firmly believed that he +was a teapot, and spent his days in the miserable hope that somebody +would be kind enough to put him on the stove! He did not go about +begging for the stove exactly; his desire was just an ever-present, +underlying yearning! He was a nice man, too, as I remember him. A man by +the name of Cowen represented the poor peer and we gave Cowen his +legitimate perquisites in the shape of benefit concerts and so forth; +but we all felt that the whole thing was in some obscure manner terribly +grim and pathetic. Many things are so oddly both comic and tragic. + +During the warm weather we went often into the country to dine or lunch +at country houses. I shall never forget Mr. Goddard's dinner at his +place. He had a glass house at the end of the regular house that was +half buried in a huge heliotrope plant which had grown so marvellously +that it covered the walls like a vine. The trunk of it was as thick as a +man's arm, and the perfume--! My mother wrote in her diary a single line +summing up the day as it had been for her: "Lovely day. Strawberries and +two black-eyed children." For my part, I gathered all the heliotrope I +wanted for once in my life. + +Mr. Sampson's entertainment is another notable memory. Mr. Sampson was +financial editor of that august journal _The London Times_, much sought +after by the large moneyed interests, and lived in Bushy Park, beyond +Kensington. Mrs. Heurtly was our hostess; and Lang, who had just been +running for Prime Minister, was there and, also, McKenzie, an East +Indian importer in a big way who afterwards became Sir Edward McKenzie, +through loaning to the Prince of Wales the money for the trousseau and +marriage of the Prince of Wales's daughter Louise to the Duke of Fife, +and who then was not invited to the wedding! It was through Sampson, +too, that I first met the famous critic Davidson, and I think it was on +the occasion of his party that I first met Nilsson's great friend Mrs. +Cavendish Bentinck. + +Among all the memories of that time stands out that of the home of the +dear McHenrys in Holland Park, overlooking the great sweep of lawn of +Holland House on which, it is said, the plotters of an elder day went +out to talk and conspire because it was the only place in London where +they could be sure that they would not be overheard. Alma Tadema lived +just around the corner and we often saw him. Another interesting +character of whom I saw a good deal at that time was Dr. Quinn, an +Irishman, connected through a morganatic marriage with the royal family. +He was very short and jolly, and very Irish. He had asthma horribly and +ought really to have considered himself an invalid. He gasped and +wheezed whenever he went upstairs, but he simply couldn't resist dinner +parties. He loved funny stories, too, not only for his own sake but also +because his friend, the Prince of Wales, liked them so much. My mother +was very ready in wit and usually had a fund of stories and jokes at her +command, and Dr. Quinn used to exhaust her supply, taking the greatest +delight in hearing her talk. He would come panting into the house, his +round face beaming, and gasp: + +"Any new American jokes? I'm dining with the Prince and want something +new for him!" + +He loved riddles and conundrums, particularly those that had a poetical +twist in them. One of his favourites was: + + _Why is a sword like the moon?_ + _Because it is the glory of the (k)night!_ + +I have heard him tell that repeatedly, always ending with a little +appreciative sigh and the ejaculation, "that is so poetical, isn't it?" + +One lovely evening we drove out to Greenwich to dinner, in Newcastle's +four-in-hand coach. It was not the new style drag, but a huge, lumbering +affair, all open, in which one sat sideways. There were postillions in +quaint dress and a general flavour of the Middle Ages about the whole +episode. There was nothing of the Middle Ages about the dinner however. +There were twenty-five of us present in all; among the number Lady Susan +Vane-Tempest, a beautiful woman with most brilliant black hair, and +Major Stackpoole, and dear Lady Rossmore, his wife (who was so impulsive +that I have seen her jump up in her box to throw me the flowers she was +wearing), and some of the Hopes (Newcastle's own family), that race that +always behaves so badly! A little later in the season, my mother and I +accepted with delight an invitation from the Duke and Duchess of +Newcastle to visit them at their place in Brighton. The Duke naively +explained that he had been having "a run of rotten luck" of late, and +thought that I might turn it. Apparently I did, for the very day after +we got there his horse won in the races. + +I sang, of course, in the evening, as their guest. There was no thought +of remuneration, nor could there be. The graceful way in which our dear +host showed his appreciation was to send me a pin, beautifully executed, +of a horse and jockey done in enamel, enclosed in a circle of perfect +crystal, the whole surrounded with a rim of superb diamonds and +amethysts--purple and white being his racing colours. The brooch was +inscribed simply with the date on which his horse ran and won. + +I wore that pin for years. When I had it cleaned at Tiffany's a long +time afterwards, it made quite a sensation, it was so unique. Once, I +remember, I was in the studio dwelling on Fifteenth Street of the +Richard Watson Gilders when I discovered that, having dressed in a +hurry, I had put my pin in upside-down. I started to change it, and then +said: + +"O, what's the use. Nobody will ever notice it. They are all too +literary and superior around here!" + +The first man Mrs. Gilder presented to me was evidently quite too much +interested in the pin to talk to me. + +"Excuse me," he at last said politely, "but you will like to know, I +feel sure, that your brooch is upside-down." + +"O, is it," said I sweetly. But I did not take the trouble to change it +even then, and, afterwards, I would not have done so for worlds, for I +should have been cheated out of a great deal of quiet amusement. One of +the contributors to _The Century_ was later presented to me, and the +effect of that pin upside-down was more irritating than it had been to +the first man. He almost stood on his head trying to discover what was +the trouble. At last: + +"You've got your pin upside-down," he snapped at me as though a personal +affront had been offered him. + +"I know I have," I snapped back. + +"What do you wear it that way for?" he demanded. + +"To make conversation!" I returned, nearly as cross as he was. + +"I don't see it," he said curtly. As a matter of fact I had just +realised that upside-down was the way to wear the pin henceforward. I +said to Jeannette Gilder the next day: + +"My upside-down pin was the hit of the evening. I am never going to wear +it any other way!" + +I have kept my word during all these years. Never have I worn +Newcastle's pin except upside-down, and I have never known anyone to +whom I was talking to fail to fall into the trap and beg my pardon and +say, "you have your brooch on upside-down." Years later I was once +talking to Annie Louise Gary in Rome and a perfectly strange man came up +and began timidly: + +"I beg your pardon, but your----" + +"I know," I told him kindly. "My pin is upside-down, isn't it?" + +He retreated, thinking me mad, I suppose. But the fun of it has been +worth some such reputation. Different people approach the subject so +differently. Some are so apologetic and some are so helpful and some, +like my _Century_ acquaintance, are so immensely and disproportionately +annoyed. + +But I am wandering far afield and quite forgetting my first London +season which, even at this remote day, is an absorbing recollection to +me. I had at that time enough youthful enthusiasm and desire to "keep +going" to have stocked a regiment of debutantes! Although I was quite as +carefully chaperoned and looked out for in England as I had been in +America, there was still an unusual sense of novelty and excitement +about the days there. I had all of my clothes from Paris and learned +that, as Sir Michael Costa had insultingly informed me, I was "quite a +pretty woman anyhow." Add to this the generous praise that the London +public gave me professionally, and is it to be considered a wonder that +I felt as if all were a delightful fairy tale with me as the princess? + +As my mother has noted in her diary, we went one evening to Covent +Garden to hear Patti sing. One really charming memory of Patti is her +Juliette. She was never at all resourceful as an actress and was never +able to stamp any part with the least creative individuality; but her +singing of that music was perfect. Maurice Strakosch came into our box +to present to us Baron Alfred de Rothschild who became one of the +English friends whom we never forgot and who never forgot us. Maddox, +too, called on us in the box that evening. He was the editor of a +little journal that was the rival of the _Court Circular_. Maddox I saw +a good deal of later and found him very original and entertaining. He +ordered champagne that night, so we had quite a little party in our box +between the acts. + +As my mother has also noted, I went to Covent Garden to hear Mario for +the first time. Fioretti was the _prima donna_, said to be the best type +of the Italian school. Altogether the occasion was expected to be a +memorable one and I was full of expectations. Davidson, the critic of +_The London Times_ and the foremost musical critic on the Continent, +except possibly Dr. Hanslick of Vienna, was full of enthusiasm. But I +did not think much of Fioretti nor, even, of Mario! Yes, Mario the +great, Mario the golden-voiced, Mario who could "soothe with a tenor +note the souls in Purgatory" was a bitter disappointment to me. I was +too inexperienced still to appreciate the art he exhibited, and his +voice was but a ghost of his past glory. Yet England adored him with her +wonderful loyalty to old idols. + +Several distinguished artists and musicians came into our box that +night, Randegger the singing teacher for one, and my good friend Sir +George Armitage. Sir George was breathless with enthusiasm. + +"There is no one like Mario!" he exclaimed, rubbing his hands with +delight. + +"This is the first time I ever heard him," I said. + +"Ah, what an experience!" he cried. + +"I should never have suspected he was the great tenor," I had to admit. + +"Oh, my dear young lady," said Sir George eagerly, "that 'la' in the +second act! Did you hear that 'la' in the second act? There was the old +Mario!" + +His devotion was so touching that I forebore to remind him that if one +swallow does not make a summer, so one "la" does not make a singer. When +poor Mario came over to America later he was a dire failure. He could +not hold his own at all. He could not produce even his "la" by that +time. Like Nilsson, however, he greatly improved dramatically after his +vocal resonances were impaired, for I have been told that when in +possession of his full voice he was very stiff and unsympathetic in his +acting. + +Sir George Armitage, by the way, was a somewhat remarkable individual, a +typical, well-bred Englishman of about sixty, with artistic tastes. He +was a perfect example of the dilettante of the leisure class, with +plenty of time and money to gratify any vagrant whim. His particular +hobby was the opera; and he divided his attentions equally between +Covent Garden with Adelina and Lucca, and Her Majesty's with Nilsson, +Titjiens, and Kellogg. When operas that he liked were being given at +both opera houses, he would make a schedule of the different numbers and +scenes with the hours at which they were to be sung:--9.20 (Covent +Garden), _Aria_ by Madame Patti. 10 o'clock (Her Majesty's), Duet in +second act between Miss Nilsson and Miss Kellogg. 10.30, Sextette at +Covent Garden, etc., etc. He kept his brougham and horses ready and +would drive back and forth the whole evening, reaching each opera house +just in time to hear the music he particularly cared for. He had seats +in each house and nothing else in the world to do, so it was quite a +simple matter with him, only,--who but an Englishman of the hereditary +class of idleness would think of such a way of spending the evening? He +was a dear old fellow and we all liked him. He really did not know much +about music, but he had a sincere fondness for it and dearly loved to +come behind the scenes and offer suggestions to the artists. We always +listened to him patiently, for it gave him great pleasure, and we never +had to do any of the things he suggested because he forgot all about +them before the next time. + +My mother's diary reads: + + _June 13._ Last night _Nozze di Figaro_. Mr. and Mrs. McHenry sent + five bouquets. Splendid performance. + + _15._ Dined at Duchess of Somerset's. + + _16._ Dined with Mr. and Mrs. McHenry. Stebbins--Vanderbilts. + + _18._ _Don Giovanni._ Checks from Mr. Cowen. Banker came to see us. + Duke of Newcastle--Sir George Armitage. + + _20._ Benedict's Morning Concert, St. James' Hall. _Encore_ + "Beware"--_Don Giovanni_ in the evening. + + _21. Sunday._ Dined with Duke and Duchess of Newcastle. Major + Stackpoole, Lady Susan Vane-Tempest and others. Rehearsed _La + Figula_. + + _Monday._ Rehearsal of _La Figula_. In the evening went to hear + Patti. Didn't like Patti. Received letter from Colonel Stebbins + from Queenstown. + + _Tuesday._ Rehearsed _La Figula_. Called at Langham on Godwin--all + came out in the evening. + + _Wednesday 24._ Morning performance of _Le Nozze_--got home at 6. + P.M. Charity concert for Mr. Cowen at 8.30 at Dudley House. + + _Thursday._ Rehearsal of _La Figula_. Concert in the evening at + Lady Fitzgerald's. + + _Monday._ Louise and I went to drive. Do not learn anything + definite about the future--where I am to be next winter--no one + knows. I do not see any settled home for me any more. Sometimes I + am satisfied to have it so--at others--get nervous and uneasy and + discontented. Yet I have lost interest in going home--it will be so + short a visit--so soon a separation--then to some other stranger + place--new friends--new faces--I want the old. The surface of life + does not interest me. + + _Tuesday._ Dined at Langs'--large party. + + _Wednesday 15._ Went to Crystal Palace--Mapleson's Benefit. The + whole performance closed with the most magnificent display of + Fireworks I ever saw--most marvellous. + + _16._ _Don Giovanni_--full house--great success in the + part--Duchess and Lady Rossmore threw splendid bouquets--house very + enthusiastic--papers fine--Mrs. McHenry and Mr. Sampson came + down--Duke of Newcastle and Major Stackpoole--Miss Jarrett. + + _Monday. Le Nozze di Figaro._ + + _Tuesday. La Figula._ + + _Thursday._ Went to theatre. Saw Nilsson and all the artists. Went + to hear Patti in _Romeo and Juliette_--Strakosch gave us the box. + Strakosch introduced Rothschilds. + + _Friday._ _Le Nozze di Figaro._ Baron Rothschilds, Sir George + Armitage came around. + + _Saturday._ Sir George breakfasted with Louise. Rothschilds + called--letter from Mr. Stebbins. + + _Sunday morning._ Dr. Kellogg of Utica called--spent several hours. + Santley called--and McHenry in the evening. + +I was greatly shocked by the heavy drinking in the 'sixties that was not +only the fashion but almost the requirement of fashion in England. My +horror when I first saw a titled and distinguished Englishwoman in the +opera box of the Earl of Harrington (our friend of the charming luncheon +party), call an attendant and order a brandy and soda will never be +forgotten. It was the general custom to serve refreshments in the boxes +at the opera, and bottles and glasses of all sorts passed in and out of +these private "loges" the entire evening. Indeed, people never dreamed +of drinking water, although they drank their wines "like water" +proverbially. Such prejudice as mine has two sides, as I realise when I +think of the landlady of our apartment which we rented during a later +London season in Belgrave Mansions. When singing, I had to have a late +supper prepared for me--something very light and simple and nourishing. +Our good landlady used to be shocked almost to the verge of tears by my +iniquitous habit of drinking water _pur-et-simple_ with my suppers. + +"Oh, miss," she would beg, "let me put a bit of sherry or _something_ in +it for you! It'll hurt you that way, Miss! It'll make you ill, that it +will!" + + + + +CHAPTER XIX + +HOME AGAIN + + +Mapleson asked me to stay on the other side and sing in England, +Ireland, and France at practically my own terms, but I refused to do so. +I had made my English success and now I wanted to go home in triumph. My +mother agreed with me that it was time to be turning homeward. So I +accepted an engagement to sing under the management of the Strakosches, +Max and Maurice, on a long concert tour. + +I have only gratitude for the manner in which my own people welcomed my +return. The critics found me much improved, and one and all gave me +credit for hard and unremitting work. "Here is a young singer," said +one, "who has steadily worked her way to the highest position in +operatic art." That point of view always pleased me; for I contend now, +as I have contended since I first began to sing, that, next to having a +voice in the first place, the great essential is to work; and then +_work_; and, after that, begin to WORK! + +New York as a city did not please me when I saw it again. I had +forgotten, or never fully realised, how provincial it was. Even to-day I +firmly believe that it is undoubtedly the dirtiest city in the world, +that its traffic regulation is the worst, and its cab service the most +expensive and inconvenient. All this struck me with particular force +when I came home fresh from London and Paris. + +My contract with the Strakosches was for twenty-five weeks, four +appearances a week, making a hundred performances in all. This tour was +only broken by a short engagement under my old director Maretzek at the +Academy of Music in Philadelphia, an arrangement made for me by Max +Strakosch when we reached that city in the spring; and, with the +exception of _Robert le Diable_, _Trovatore_, and one or two other +operas, I spent the next three years singing in concert and oratorio +entirely. It was not enjoyable, but it was successful. We went all over +the country, North, South, East, West, and everywhere found an +enthusiastic public. Particularly was this so in the South as far as I +personally was concerned. The poor South had not yet recovered from the +effects of the Civil War and did not have much money to spend on +amusements, but, when at Richmond the people learned that I was Southern +born, more than one woman said to me: + +"Go? To hear you! Yes, indeed; we'll hang up all we have to go and hear +you!" + +One of my popular fellow-artists on the first tour was James M. Wehli, +the English pianist. He was known as the "left-handed pianist" and was +in reality better suited to a vaudeville stage than to a concert +platform. His particular accomplishment consisted in playing a great +number of pieces brilliantly with his left hand only, a feat remarkable +enough in itself but not precisely an essential for a great artist, and, +even as a pianist, he was not inspired. + +My first appearance after my European experience was in a concert at the +Academy of Music in New York. It was a real welcome home. People cheered +and waved and threw flowers and clapped until I was literally in tears. +I felt that it did not matter in the least whether New York was a real +city or not; America was a real country! When the concert was over, the +men from the Lotus Club took the horses out of my carriage and dragged +it, with me in it, to my hotel. And oh, my flowers! My American title of +"The Flower _Prima Donna_" was soon reestablished beyond all +peradventure. Flowers in those days were much rarer than they are now; +and I received, literally, loads and loads of camellias, and roses +enough to set up many florist shops. Without exaggeration, I sent those +I received by _cartloads_ to the hospitals. And one "floral offering" +that I received in Boston was actually too large for any waggon. A +subscription had been raised and a pagoda of flowers sent. I had to hire +a dray to carry it to my hotel; and then it could not be got up the +stairs but had to spend the night downstairs. In the morning I had the +monstrous thing photographed and sent it off to a hospital. Even this +was an undertaking as I could not, for some reason, get the dray of the +night before; and had to hire several able-bodied men to carry it. I +hope it was a comfort to somebody before it faded! It is a pity that +this tribute on the part of Boston did not assume a more permanent form, +for I should have much appreciated a more lasting token as a remembrance +of the occasion. It must not be thought that I was unappreciative +because I say this. I love anything and everything that blooms, and I +love the spirit that offers me flowers. But I must say that the pagoda +was something of a white elephant. + +While thinking of Boston and my first season at home, I must not omit +mention of Mrs. Martin. Indeed, it will have to be rather more than a +mere mention, for it is quite a little story, beginning indirectly with +Wright Sandford. Wright Sandford was the only man in New York with a big +independent fortune, except "Willie" Douglass who spent most of his time +cruising in foreign waters. Wright Sandford was more of a friend of mine +than "Willie" Douglass, and I used to haul him over the coals +occasionally for his lazy existence. He had eighty thousand a year and +absolutely nothing to do but to amuse himself. + +"What do you expect me to do?" he would demand plaintively. "I've no one +to play with!" + +Whenever I was starting on a tour he would send me wonderful hampers put +up by Delmonico, with the most delicious things to eat imaginable in +them, so that my mother and I never suffered, at least for the first day +or two, from the inconveniences of the bad food usually experienced by +travellers. A very nice fellow was Wright Sandford in many ways, and to +this day I am appreciative of the Delmonico luncheons if of nothing +else. + +When we were _en route_ for Boston on that first tour,--a long trip +then, eight or nine hours at least by the fast trains--there sat close +to us in the car a little woman who watched me all the time and smiled +whenever I glanced at her. I noticed that she had no luncheon with her, +so when we opened our Delmonico hamper, I leaned across and asked her to +join us. I do not exactly know why I did it for I was not in the habit +of making friends with our fellow-travellers; but the little person +appealed to me somehow in addition to her being lunchless. She was the +most pleased creature imaginable! She nibbled a little, smiled, spoke +hardly a word, and after lunch I forgot all about her. + +In Boston, as I was in my room in the hotel practising, before going to +the theatre, there came a faint rap on the door. I called out "Come in," +yet nobody came. I began to practise again and again came a little rap. +"Come in," I called a second time, yet still nothing happened. After a +third rap I went and opened the door. In the dark hall stood a woman. I +did not remember ever having seen her before; but I could hardly +distinguish her features in the passage. + +"I've come," said she in a soft, small voice, "to ask you if you would +please kiss me?" + +Of course I complied. Needless to say, I thought her quite crazy. After +I had kissed her cheek she nodded and vanished into the darkness while +I, much mystified, went back to my singing. That night at the theatre I +saw a small person sitting in the front row, smiling up at me. Her face +this time was somewhat familiar and I said to myself, "I do believe +that's the little woman who had lunch with us on the train!" and +then--"I wonder--_could_ it also be the crazy woman who wanted me to +kiss her?" + +During our week's engagement in Boston we were confronted with a +dilemma. Max Strakosch came to me much upset. + +"What are we going to do in Providence--the only decent hotel in the +town has burned down," he said. "You'll have to stop with friends." + +"I haven't any friends in Providence," I replied. + +"Well, you'll have to get some," he declared. "There's no hotel where +you could possibly stay and we can't cancel your engagement. The houses +are sold out." + +Presently a cousin of mine, acting as my agent on these trips, came and +told me that a man had called on him at the theatre whose wife wished to +"entertain" Miss Kellogg while she was in Providence! + +The idea appalled me and I flatly refused to accept this extraordinary +invitation; but those two men simply forced me into it. Strakosch, +indeed, regarded the incident as a clear dispensation from heaven. +"Nothing could be more fortunate," he said, "never mind who they are, +you go and stay with them anyway. You've wonderful business waiting for +you in Providence." + +Well--I went. Yet I felt very guilty about accepting a hospitality that +would have to be stretched so far. It was no joke to have me for a +guest. I knew well that we would be a burden on any household, +especially if it were a modest one. When I was singing I had to have +dinner at half-past four at the latest; I could not be disturbed by +anything in the morning and, besides, it meant three beds--for mother, +myself, and maid. In Providence we arrived at a tiny house at the door +of which I was met by the little woman of the train who was, as I had +surmised, the same one who had wanted me to kiss her. Supper was served +immediately. Everything was immaculate and dainty and delicious. Our +hostess had remembered some of the contents of the Delmonico hamper that +I had especially liked and had cooked them herself, perfectly. + +She made me promise never to stay anywhere else than with her when I was +in Providence and I never have. In all, throughout the many years that +have intervened between then and now, I must have visited her more than +twenty times. During this period I have been privileged to watch the +most extraordinary development that could be imagined by any +psychologist. When I first stopped with her there was not a book in the +house. While everything was exquisitely clean and well kept, it was +absolutely primitive. On my second visit I found linen sheets upon the +beds and the soap and perfume that I liked were ready for me on the +dressing-table. She studied my "ways" and every time I came back there +was some new and flattering indication of the fact. Have I mentioned her +name? It was Martin, Mrs. Martin, and her husband was conductor on what +was called the "Millionaire's Train" that ran between Boston and +Providence. I saw very little of him, but he was a nice, shy man, much +respected in his business connection. He was "Hezzy" and she was +"Lizy"--short for Hezekiah and Eliza. They were a genuinely devoted +couple in their quiet way although he always stood a trifle in awe of +his wife's friends. She was about ten years older than I and had a +really marvellous gift for growing and improving. After a while they +left the first house and moved into one a little larger and much more +comfortable. They had a library and she began to gather a small circle +of musical friends about her. Her knowledge of music was oddly +photographic. She would bring me a sheet of music and say: + +"Please play this part--here; this is the nice part!" But she was, and +is, a fine critic. Some big singers are glad to have her approval. As in +music so it was with books--the little woman's taste was instinctive but +unerring. She has often brought me a book of poetry, pointed out the +best thing in it, and said in her soft way: + +"Don't you think this is nice? I _do_ think it is _so_ nice! It's a +lovely poem." + +There was a young telegraph operator in Providence who had a voice. His +name was Jules Jordan. Mrs. Martin took him into her house and +practically brought him up. He, too, began to grow and develop and is +now the head of the Arion Society, the big musical association of +Providence that has some of the biggest singers in the country in its +concerts. Mrs. Martin entertains Jules Jordan's artistic friends and +goes to the concert rehearsals and says whether they are good or not. +She knows, too. "I am called the 'Singers'' friend," she said to me not +very long ago. She criticises the orchestra and chorus as well as the +solos, and she is right every time. I consider her one of the finest +critics I know. As for the professional critics, she is acquainted with +them all and they have a very genuine respect for her judgment. She is +the sort of person who is called "queer." Most real characters are. If +she does not like one, the recipient of her opinion is usually fully +aware of what that opinion is. She has no social idea at all, nor any +toleration for it. This constitutes one point in which her development +is so remarkable. Most women who "make themselves" acquire, first of +all, the social graces and veneer, the artificiality in surface matters +that will enable them to pass muster in the "great world." She has +allowed her evolution to go along different lines. She has really grown, +not in accomplishments but in accomplishment; not in manners but in grey +matter. Indeed, I hardly know how to find words with which to speak of +Mrs. Martin for I think her such a wonderful person; I respect and care +for her so much that I find myself dumb when I try to pay her a tribute. +If I have dared to speak of her humble beginnings in the first little +house it is because it seems to me that only so can I really do her +justice as she is to-day. She is a living monument of what a woman can +do with herself unaided, save by the force and the aspiration that is in +her. Meeting her was one of the most valuable incidents that happened to +me in the year of my home-coming. + +It seems as if I spent most of my time in those days being photographed. +Likenesses were stiff and unnatural; and I am inclined to believe that +the picture of me that has always been the best known--the one leaning +on my hand--marked a new epoch in photography. I had been posing a great +deal the day that was taken and was dead tired. There had been much +arranging; many attempts to obtain "artistic effects." Finally, I went +off into a corner and sat down, leaning my head on my hand, while the +photographer put new plates in his camera. Suddenly he happened to look +in my direction and exclaimed: + +"By Jove--if I could only--I'm going to try it anyway!" Then he shouted, +"Don't move, please!" and took me just as I was. He was very doubtful as +to the result for it was a new departure in photography; but the attempt +was very successful, and other photographers began to try for the same +natural and easy effect. Another time I happened to have a handkerchief +in my lap that threw a white reflection on my face, and the photographer +discovered from it the value of large light-coloured surfaces to deflect +the light where it was needed. This, too, I consider, was an unconscious +factor in the introduction of natural effects into photography. I never, +however, took a satisfactory picture. People who depend on expression +and animation for their looks never do. My likenesses never looked the +way I really did--except, perhaps, one that a photographer once caught +while I was talking about Duse, explaining how much more I admired her +than I did Bernhardt. + +In those concert and oratorio years I remember very few pleasurable +appearances: but unquestionably one of the few was on June 15th, when +the Beethoven Jubilee was held and I was asked to sing as alternative +_prima donna_ with Parepa Rosa. Although I had done well in the Crystal +Palace, I was not a singer who was generally supposed nor expected to +fill so large a place as the American Institute Colosseum on Third +Avenue, and many people prophesied that I could not be satisfactorily +heard there. I asked my friends to go to different parts of the house +and to tell me if my voice sounded well. Even some of my friends out in +front, though, did not expect to hear me to advantage. But, contrary to +what we all feared, my voice proved to have a carrying quality that had +never before been adequately recognised. The affair was a great success. +Parepa Rosa did not, as a matter of fact, have quite so big a voice as +she was usually credited with having. She had power only to _G_. Above +the staff it was a mixed voice. She could diminish to an exquisite +quality, but she could not reinforce with any particular volume or +vibration. + +There was another occasion that I remember with a deep sense of its +impressiveness:--that of the funeral of Horace Greeley, at which I sang. +I knew Horace Greeley personally and recall many interesting things +about him; but, naturally perhaps, what stands out in my memory is the +fact that, a few days before he died, he came to hear me sing Handel's +_Messiah_, being, as he said afterwards, particularly touched and +impressed by my rendering of _I know that my Redeemer liveth_. When he +came to die, the last words that he said were those, whispered faintly, +as if they still echoed in his heart. It may have been because of this +fact that it was I who was asked to sing at his funeral. + +On my return from abroad I was, of course, wearing only foreign clothes +and, as a consequence, found myself the embarrassed centre of much +curiosity. American women were still children in the art of dressing. At +one time I was probably the only woman in America who wore silk +stockings and long gloves. People could not accustom themselves to my +Parisian fashions. In Saratoga one dear man, whom I knew very well, came +to me much distressed and whispered that my dress was fastened crooked. +I had the greatest difficulty in convincing him that it was made that +way and that the crookedness was the latest French touch. A recent +fashion was that humped-up effect that gave the wearer the attitude then +known and reviled as the "Grecian Bend." It was made famous by +caricatures and jokes in the funny papers of the time, but I, being a +new-comer so to speak, was not aware of its newspaper notoriety. +Conceive my injured feelings when the small boys in the street ran after +me in gangs shouting "Grecian Bend! Grecian Bend!" + +Another point that hurt the delicate sensibilities of the concert-going +American public was the fact that at evening concerts I wore low-necked +gowns. On the other side the custom of wearing a dress that was cut down +for any and every appearance after dark, was invariable, and it took me +some time to grasp the cause of the sensation with my modestly +_decollete_ frocks. People, further, found my ease effrontery, and my +carriage, acquired after years of effort, "putting on airs." In spite of +the cordiality of my welcome home, therefore, I had many critics who +were not particularly kind. Although one woman did write, "who ever saw +more simplicity on the stage?" there were plenty of the others who said, +"Clara Louise Kellogg has become 'stuck up' during her sojourn abroad." +As for my innocent desire to be properly and becomingly clothed, it +gave rise to comments that were intended to be quite scathing, if I had +only taken sufficient notice of them to think of them ten minutes after +they had reached my ears. That year there was put on the millinery +market a "Clara Louise" bonnet, by the way, that was supposed to be a +great compliment to me, but that I am afraid I would not have been seen +wearing at any price! + +In this connection one champion arose in my defence, however, whose +efforts on my behalf must not be overlooked. He was an Ohio journalist, +and his love of justice was far greater than his knowledge of the French +language. Seeing in some review that Miss Kellogg had "a larger +_repertoire_ than any living _prima donna_," this chivalrous writer +rushed into print as follows: + + We do not of course know how Miss Kellogg was dressed in other + cities, but upon the occasion of her last performance here we are + positively certain that her _repertoire_ did not seem to extend out + so far as either Nilsson's or Patti's. It may have been that her + overskirt was cut too narrow to permit of its being gathered into + such a lump behind, or it may have been that it had been crushed + down accidentally, but the fact remains that both of Miss Kellogg's + rivals wore _repertoires_ of a much more extravagant size--very + much to their discredit, we think ... + + + + +CHAPTER XX + +"YOUR SINCERE ADMIRER" + + +A man whose name I never learned dropped a big, fragrant bunch of +violets at my feet each night for weeks. Becoming discouraged after a +while because I did not seek him out in his gallery seat, he sent me a +note begging for a glance and adding, for identification, this +illuminating point: "_You'll know me by my boots hanging over!_" + +Who could disregard such an appeal? That night my eyes searched the +balconies feverishly. He had not vainly raised my hopes; his boots +_were_ hanging over, large boots, that looked as if they had seen +considerable service. I sang my best to those boots and--dear man!--the +violets fell as sweetly as before. I have conjured up a charming +portrait of this individual, with a soul high enough to love music and +violets and simple enough not to be ashamed of his boots. Would that all +"sincere admirers" might be of such an ingenuous and engaging a pattern. + +The variety of "admirers" that are the lot of a person on the stage is +extraordinary. It is very difficult for the stage persons themselves to +understand it. It has never seemed to me that actors as a class are +particularly interesting. Personally I have always been too cognisant of +the personalities behind the scenes to ever have any theatrical idols; +but to a great many there is something absolutely fascinating about the +stage and stage folk. The actor appears to the audience in a perpetual, +hazy, calcium glory. We are, one and all, children with an inherent love +for fairy tales and it is probably this love which is in a great measure +accountable for the blind adoration received by most stage people. + +I have received, I imagine, the usual number of letters from "your +sincere admirer," some of them funny and some of them rather pathetic. +Very few of them were really impertinent or offensive. In nearly all was +to be found the same touching devotion to an abstract ideal for which, +for the moment, I chanced to be cast. Once in a while there was some one +who, like a person who signed himself "Faust," insisted that I had "met +his eyes" and "encouraged him from afar." Needless to say I had never in +my life seen him; but he worked himself into quite a fever of resentment +on the subject and wrote me several letters. There was also a man who +wrote me several perfectly respectful, but ardent, love letters to +which, naturally, I did not respond. Then, finally, he bombarded me with +another type of screed of which the following is a specimen: + +"Oh, for Heaven's sake, say something,--if it is only to rate me for my +importunities or to tell me to go about my business! Anything but this +contemptuous silence!" + +But these were exceptions. Most of my "admirers'" letters are gems of +either humour or of sentiment. Among my treasures is an epistle that +begins: + + "Miss Clara Louise Kellogg + + Miss: + + Before to expand my feelings, before to make you known the real + intent of this note, in fine before to disclose the secrets of my + heart, I will pray you to pardon my indiscretion (if indiscretion + that can be called) to address you unacquainted," etc. + +Isn't this a masterpiece? + +There was also an absurdly conceited man who wrote me one letter a year +for several years, always in the same vein. He was evidently a very +pious youth and had "gotten religion" rather badly, for in every epistle +he broke into exhortation and urged me fervently to become a "real +Christian," painting for me the joys of true religion if I once could +manage to "find it." In one of his later letters--after assuring me that +he had prayed for me night and morning for three years and would +continue to do so--he ended in this impressive manner: + + " ...And if, in God's mercy, we are both permitted to walk 'the + Golden Streets,' I shall there seek you out and give you more fully + my reasons for writing you." + +Could anything be more entertaining than this naive fashion of making a +date in Heaven? + +Not all my letters were love letters. Sometimes I would receive a few +words from some woman unknown to me but full of a sweet and +understanding friendliness. Mrs. Elizabeth Tilton, then the centre of +the stage scandal through her friendship with Henry Ward Beecher, wrote +me a charming letter that ended with what struck me as a very pathetic +touch: + + "I am unwilling to be known by you as the defiant, discontented + woman of the age--rather, as an humble helper of those less + fortunate than myself----" + +I never knew Mrs. Tilton personally, but have often felt that I should +have liked her. One of the dearest communications I ever received was +from a French working girl, a corset maker, I believe. She wrote: + + "I am but a poor little girl, Mademoiselle, a toiler in the sphere + where you reign a queen, but ever since I was a very little child I + have gone to listen to your voice whenever you have deigned to sing + in New York. Those magic tone-flowers, scattering their perfumed + sweetness on the waiting air, made my child heart throb with a + wonderful pulsation...." + +One of the favourite jests of the critics was my obduracy in matters of +sentiment. It was said that I would always have emotional limitations +because I had no love affairs like other _prime donne_. Once, when I +gave some advice to a young girl to "keep your eyes fixed upon your +artistic future," or some such similar phrase, the press had a good deal +of fun at my expense. "That" it was declared, "was exactly what was the +matter with Clara Louise; she kept her eyes fixed upon an artistic +future instead of upon some man who was in love with her!" I was rather +a good shot, very fond of target shooting, and many jokes were also made +on the supposed damage I did. One newspaper man put it rather more +aptly. "Not only in pistol shooting," he said, "but in everything she +aims at, our _prima donna_ is sure to hit the mark." + +My "sincere admirers" were from all parts of the house, but I think I +found the "gallery" ones most sincere and, certainly, the most amusing. +Max Maretzek used to say that he had no manner of use for an artist +unless she could fill the family circle. I am glad to be able to record +that I always could. My singing usually appealed to the people. _The +Police Gazette_ always gave me good notices! I love the family circle. +As a rule the appreciation there is greater because of the sacrifices +which they have had to make to buy their seats. When people can go to +hear good music every night, they do not care nearly so much about doing +it. + +I wonder if anybody besides singers get such an extraordinary sense of +contact and connection with members of their audiences? I have sometimes +felt as if thought waves, reaching through the space between, held me +fast to some of those who heard me sing. Who knows what sympathies, what +comprehensions, what exquisite friendships, were blossoming out there in +the dark house like a garden, waiting to be gathered? Letters--not +necessarily love letters--rather, stray messages of appreciation and +understanding--have brought me a similar sense of joy and of safe +intimacy. After the receipt of any such, I have sung with the pleasant +sense that a new friend--yes, friend, not auditor--was listening. I have +suddenly felt at home in the big theatre; and often, very often, have I +looked eagerly over the banked hosts of faces, asking myself wistfully +which were the strangers and which mine own people. + +It was not only in the theatre that I found "admirers." My vacations +were beset with those who wanted to look at and speak to a genuine +_prima donna_ at close range. Indeed, I had frequently to protect myself +from perfectly strange and intrusive people. Often I have gone to +Saratoga during the season. Saratoga was a fashionable resort in those +days and I always had a good audience. One incident that I remember of +Saratoga was a detestable train that invariably came along in the middle +of my performance--the evening train from New York. I always had to stop +whatever I was singing and wait for it to go by. One night I thought I +would cheat it and timed my song a little earlier so that I would be +through before the train arrived. It just beat me by a bar; and I could +hear it steaming nearer and nearing as I hurried on. As I came to the +end there was a loud whistle from the locomotive;--but, for once, luck +was on my side, for it was pitched in harmony with my final note! The +coincidence was warmly applauded. + +When on the road I not infrequently practised with my banjo at hotels. +It was more practicable to carry about than a piano and, besides, it was +not always an easy matter to hire a good piano. One time--also in +Saratoga--I was playing that instrument preparatory to beginning my +morning practice, when an old gentleman who had a room on the same +floor, descended to the office in a fine temper. He was a long, slim, +wiry old fellow, with a high, black satin stock about his bony neck, +very few hairs on his little round head, deep sunken eyes, pinched +features, and an extremely nervous manner. + +"See here," he burst out in a cracked voice, as he danced about on the +marble tiling of the office floor, "have you a band of nigger minstrels +in the house, eh! Zounds, sir, there's an infernal banjo tum, tum, +tumming in my ears every morning and I can't sleep. Drat banjoes--I hate +'em. And nigger minstrels--I hate 'em too. You must move me, sir, move +me at once. That banjo'll set me crazy. Move me at once, d'ye hear?--or +I'll leave the house!" + +"Why, sir," said the clerk suavely, "that banjo player is not a nigger +minstrel, at all, sir, but Miss Clara Louise Kellogg, who uses a banjo +to practise with." + +The hard lines in the old fellow's face relaxed, he looked sharply at +the clerk and, leaning over the counter, remarked: + +"What, Clara Louise Kellogg! W--why, I'll go up and listen! Zounds, man, +she's my particular favourite. She's charmed me with her sweet voice +many a time. D---- n it, give her another banjo! Tell her to play all +day if she wants to! Clara Louise Kellogg, eh? H'm, well, well!" + +He tottered off and, as I observed, after that so long as I stayed left +the door of his room open down the hall so that he could hear my "tum, +tum, tumming." + +A very different, though equally ingenuous tribute to my powers was that +given by an old Indian trapper who, when in Chicago to sell his hides, +went to hear me sing and expressed his emotions to a newspaper man of +that city in approximately the following language: + + I have heard most of the sweet and terrible noises that natives + make. I have heard the thunder among the Hills when the Lord was + knocking against the earth until it passed; and I have heard the + wind in the pines and the waves on the beaches, when the darkness + of night was in the woods, and nature was singing her Evening Song + and there was no bird nor beast the Lord has made, and I have not + heard a voice that would make as sweet a noise as nature makes when + the Spirit of the Universe speaks through the stillness; but that + sweet lady has made sounds to-night sweeter than my ears have heard + on hill or lake shore at noon, or in the night season, and I + certainly believe that the Spirit of the Lord has been with her and + given her the power to make such sweet sounds. A man might like to + have these sweet sounds in his ears when his body lies in his cabin + and his spirit is standing on the edge of the great clearing. I + wish she could sing for me when my eyes grow dim and my feet strike + the trail that no man strikes but once, nor travels both ways. + +Surely among my friends, if not among my "sincere admirers," I may +include Okakura, who came over here with the late John La Farge as an +envoy from the Japanese Government to study the art of this country as +well as that of Europe. His dream was to found some sort of institution +in Japan for the preservation and development of his country's old, +national ideals in art. His criticisms of Raphael and Titian, by the +way, were something extraordinary. As for music, he had a marvellous +sense for it. La Farge took him to a Thomas Concert and he was vastly +impressed by the music of Beethoven. One might have thought that he had +listened to Occidental classics all his life. But, for that matter, I +know two little Japanese airs that Davidson of London told me might well +have been written by Beethoven himself; so it may be that there is an +obscure bond of sympathy, which our less acute ears would not always +recognise, between our great master and the composers of Okakura's +native land. + +Okakura was only twenty-six when I first met him at Richard Watson +Gilder's studio in New York, but he was already a professor and spoke +perfect English and knew all our best literature. When Munkacsy, the +Hungarian painter, came over, his colleague, Francis Korbay, the +musician, gave him an evening reception, and I took my Japanese friend. +It was a charming evening and Okakura was the success of the reception. +When he started being introduced he was nothing but a professor. Before +he had gone the rounds he had become an Asiatic prince and millionaire. +He had the "grand manner" and wore gorgeous clothes on formal occasions. + +Some years later I called on his wife in Tokio. I considered this was +the polite thing for me to do although Okakura himself was in Osaka at +the time. Okakura had an art school in Tokio, kept up with the aid of +the Government, where he was trying to fulfil his old ambition of +preserving the individuality of his own people's work and of driving out +Occidental encroachments. At the school, where we had gone with a guide +who could serve also as interpreter, I asked for Madame. My request to +see her was met with consternation. I was asking a great deal--how much, +I did not realise until afterwards. Before I could enter, I was +requested to take off my shoes. This I considered impossible as I was +wearing high-laced boots. Furthermore, we were having winter weather, +very cold and raw, and nothing was offered me to put on in their place, +as the Japanese custom is at the entrances of the temples. My refusal to +remove my shoes halted proceedings for a while; but, eventually, I was +led around to a side porch where I could sit on a _chair_ (I was amazed +at their having such a thing) and speak with the occupants of the house +as they knelt inside on their heels. The _shoji_, or bamboo and paper +screen, was pushed back, revealing an interior wonderfully clever in its +simplicity. The furniture consisted of a beautiful brassier and two rare +kakamonos on the wall--nothing more. + +In came Madame Okakura in a grey kimono and bare feet. Down she went on +her knees and saluted me in the prettiest fashion imaginable. We talked +through the interpreter until her daughter entered, who spoke to me in +bad, limited French. The daughter was an unattractive girl, with an +artificially reddened mouth, but I thought the mother charming, like a +most exquisite Parisienne masquerading as a "Japanese Lady." + +Not long after my visit I saw Okakura himself and told him how much I +had enjoyed seeing his wife. He gave me an annoyed glance and remained +silent. I was nonplussed and somewhat mortified. I could not understand +what could be the trouble, for he acted as if his honour were offended. +In time I learned that the unpardonable breach of good form in Japan was +to mention his wife to a Japanese! + +So graceful, so delicate in both expression and feeling are the letters +that I have received from Okakura, that I cannot resist my inclination +to include them in this chapter,--although, possibly, they are somewhat +too personal. On January 4, 1887, he wrote: + + /* MY DEAR MISS KELLOGG: */ + + France lies three nights ahead of us. The returning clouds still + seek the western shore and the ocean rolls back my dreams to you. + Your music lives in my soul. I carry away America in your voice; + and what better token can your nation offer? But praises to the + great sound like flattery, and praises to the beautiful sound like + love. To you they must both be tiresome. I shall refrain. You + allude to the Eastern Lights. Alas, the Lamp of Love flickers and + Night is on the plains of Osaka. There are lingering lights on the + crown of the Himalayas, on the edges of the Kowrous, among the + peaks of Hira and Kora. But what do they care for the twilight of + the Valley? They stand like the ocean moon, regardless of the + tempest below. Seek the light in the mansion of your own soul. Are + you not yourself the _Spirit Nightingale of the West_? Are you not + crying for the moon in union with your Emersons and + Longfellows--with your La Farges and your Gilders? Or am I + mistaken? I enclose my picture and submit the translation of the + few lines on the back to your _axe of anger and the benevolence of + your criticism_ as we say at home. I need a great deal of your + benevolence and deserve more of your anger, as the lines sound so + poor in the English. However they do not appear very grand in the + original and so I submit them to your guillotine with a free + conscience. The lines are different from the former, for I forget + them--or care not to repeat. + + Will you kindly convey my best regards to Mrs. Gilder, for I owe so + much to her, to say nothing of your friendship! Will you also + condescend to write to me at your leisure? + + * * * * * + + (_Translation_:--One star floats into the ocean of Night. Past the + back of Taurus, away among the Pleiades, whither dost thou go? + Sadly I watch them all. My soul wanders after them into the + infinite. Shall my soul return, or--never?) + + VIENNA, March 4, 1887. + + MY DEAR MISS KELLOGG: + + The home of a traveller is in his sweet memories. Under the shadow + of Vesuvius and on the waters of Leman my thoughts were always for + America, which you and your friends have made so pleasant to me. + Pardon me therefore if my pen again turns toward you. How kind of + you to remember me! Your letter reached me here last night and I + regret that I did not stay longer in Paris to receive it sooner. + Will you not favour me by writing again? + + Europe is an enigma--often a source of sadness to me. The forces + that developed her are tearing her asunder. Is it because all + civilisations are destined to have their days and nights of Brahma? + Or was the principle that organised the European nations itself a + false one? Did they grasp the moon in the waters and at last + disturb the image? I know not. I only feel that the Spirit of + Unrest is standing beside me. War is coming and must come, sooner + or later. Conflicting opinions chase each other across the + continent as if the demons fought in the air before the battle of + men began. The policy of maintaining peace by increasing the + armies is absurd. It is indeed a sad state of things to make such a + sophism necessary. I am getting tired of this, though there is some + consolation that there are more fools in the world than the + Oriental. + + I have been rather disappointed in the French music. Perhaps I am + too much prejudiced by _The Persian Serenade_ to appreciate + anything else. The acting was artificial and there was no voice + which had anything of the Spirit Nightingale in it. You once told + me that you intended to cross the Atlantic this summer. When? My + dreams are impatient of your arrival. May you come soon and correct + my one-sided impression of Europe! + + I am going to Rome after two or three weeks' stay in this place. + That city interests me deeply, as yet the spiritual centre of the + West, whose voice still influences the politics of Central Europe. + In May I shall be at the Paris Salon and cross over to London in + the early part of June. + + It snows every day in Vienna and I spend my time mostly with the + old doctors of the University. Their talks on philosophy and + science are indeed interesting, but somehow or other I don't feel + the delight I had in your society in New York. Why? + + July 12, 1887. + + MY DEAR MISS KELLOGG: + + I am very glad to hear that you are in Europe. My duties in London + end this week and I have decided to start for Munich next morning, + thence to Dresden and Berlin. I am thus looking forward to the + great pleasure of meeting you again and gathering fragrance from + your conversation. Mrs. Gilder wrote to me that you were not quite + well since your tour in the West and my anxiety mingles with my + hopes. The atmosphere of English civilisation weighs heavily on me + and I am longing to be away. It seems that civilisation does not + agree with a member of an Eastern barbaric tribe. My conception of + music has been gradually changing. The Ninth Symphony has + revolutionised it. Where is the future of music to be? + + Many questions crowd on me and I am impatient to lay them before + you at Carlsbad. Will you allow me to do so? + + BERLIN. KAISERHAUF, July 24th. + + MY DEAR MISS KELLOGG: + + The Spirit of Unrest chases me northward. Dresden glided dimly + before me. Holbein was a disappointment. The Sistine Madonna was + divine beyond my expectation. I saw Raphael in his purity and was + delighted. None of his pictures is so inspired as this. Still my + thoughts wandered amid these grand creations. They flitted past in + a shower of colours and shadows and I have drifted hither through + the hazy forests of Heine and the troubled grey of Millet's + twilight.... + + To me your friendship is the boat that bears me proudly home. I + wait with pleasure any line you may send me there. Wishing every + good to you, I remain yours respectfully. + + KAISERHAUF, July 28th, 1887. + + MY DEAR MISS KELLOGG: + + Ten thousand thanks for your kind letter. My address in Japan is + Monbusho, Tokio, and if you will write to me there I shall be so + happy! The task which I have imposed upon myself--the preserving of + historical continuity and internal development, etc.,--has to work + very slowly. I must be patient and cautious. Still I shall be + delighted to confide to you from time to time how I am getting on + with my dream if you will allow me to do so. You say that you have + a hope of finding what you long for in Buddhism. Surely your lotus + must be opening to the dawn. European philosophy has reached to a + point where no advance is possible except through mysticism. Yet + they ignore the hidden truths on limited scientific grounds. The + Berlin University has thus been forced to return to Kant and begin + afresh. They have destroyed but have no power to construct, and + they never will if they refuse to _see_ more into themselves.... + + Hoping you the best and the brightest, I am + + Yours faithfully, + + OKAKURA KAKUDZO. + + +And so I come to one of all these who was really a "sincere admirer," +and a faithful lover, although I never knew him. It is a difficult +incident to write of, for I feel that it holds some of the deepest +elements of sentiment and of tragedy with which I ever came in touch. + +I was singing in Boston when a man sent me a message saying that he was +connected with a newspaper and had something of great importance about +which he wanted to see me. He furthermore said that he wished to see me +alone. It was an extraordinary request and, at first, I refused. I +suspected a subterfuge--a wager, or something humiliating of that sort. +But he persisted, sending yet another message to the effect that he had +something to communicate to me which was of an essentially personal +nature. Finally I consented to grant him the interview and, as he had +requested, I saw him alone. + +He was just back from the front where he had been war correspondent +during the heart of the Civil War, and he told me that he had a letter +to give to me from a soldier in his division who had been shot. The +soldier was mortally wounded when the reporter found him. He was lying +at the foot of a tree at the point of death, and the correspondent asked +if he could take any last messages for him to friends or relatives. The +soldier asked him to write down a message to take to a woman whom he had +loved for four years, but who did not know of his love. + +"Tell her," he said, speaking with great difficulty, "that I would not +try even to meet her; but that I have loved her, before God, as well as +any man ever loved a woman." He asked the reporter to feel inside his +uniform for the woman's picture. "It is Miss Kellogg," he added, just +before he died. "You--don't think that she will be offended if I send +her this message--now--do you?" + +He asked the correspondent to draw his sabre and cut off a lock of hair +to send to me, and the reporter wrote down the message on the only +scraps of paper at his disposal--torn bits scribbled over with reports +of the enemy's movements, and the names of other dead soldiers whose +people must be notified when the battle was over. And then the +soldier--my soldier--died; and the correspondent left him the picture +and came away. + +The scribbled message and the lock of hair he put into my hands, saying: + +"He was very much worried lest you would think him presumptuous. I told +him that I was sure you would not." + +I was weeping as he spoke, and so he left me. + + + + +CHAPTER XXI + +ON THE ROAD + + +Oh, those first tours! Not only was it exceedingly uncomfortable to +travel in the South and West at that time, but it was decidedly risky as +well. Highway robberies were numerous and, although I myself never +happened to suffer at the hands of any desperadoes, I have often heard +first-hand accounts from persons who had been robbed of everything they +were carrying. While I was touring in Missouri, Jesse James and his men +were operating in the same region and the celebrated highway man himself +was once in the train with me. I slipped quietly through to catch a +glimpse of him in the smoking-car. Two of his "aides" were with him and, +although they were behaving themselves peacefully enough for the time +being, I think that most of the passengers were willing to give them a +wide berth. During one concert trip of our company I saw something of a +situation which might have developed dramatically. There was a "three +card monte" gang working on the train. One of their number pretended to +be a farmer and entirely innocent, so as to lure victims into the game. +I saw this particularly tough-looking individual disappear into the +toilet room and come out made up as the farmer. It was like a play. I +also saw him finger a pistol that he was carrying in his right hip +pocket: and I experienced a somewhat blood-thirsty desire that there +might be a genuine excitement in store for us, but the alarm spread and +nobody was snared that trip. + +As there were frequently no through trains on Sundays, we had sometimes +to have special trains. I never quite understood the idea of not having +through trains on Sundays, for surely other travellers besides +unfortunate singers need occasionally to take journeys on the Sabbath. +But so it was. And once our "special" ran plump into a big strike of +locomotive engineers at Dayton, Ohio. Our engine driver was held up by +the strikers bivouacked in the railroad yards and we were stalled there +for hours. At last an engineer from the East was found who consented to +take our train through and there was much excitement while he was being +armed with a couple of revolvers and plenty of ammunition, for the +strikers had threatened to shoot down any "scab" who attempted to break +the strike. We were all ordered to get down on the floor of the car to +avoid the stones that might be thrown through the windows when we +started; and when the train began to move slowly our situation was +decidedly trying. We could hear a hail of shots being fired, as the +engine gathered speed, but our volunteer engineer knew his business and +had been authorised to drive the engine at top speed to get us out of +the trouble, so soon the noise of shooting and the general uproar were +left behind. The plucky strike-breaker was barely grazed, but I, +personally, never cared to come any closer to lawlessness than I was +then. + +There were some bright spots on these disagreeable journeys. One day as +I was coming out of a hall in Duluth where I had been rehearsing for the +concert we were giving that evening, I ran into a man I knew, an +Englishman whom I had not seen since I was in London. + +"There!" he exclaimed, "I knew it was you!" + +"Did you see the advertisement?" I asked. + +"No," he returned, "I'm just off the yacht that's lying out there in the +Lake. I'm out looking into some mining interests, you know. I heard your +voice from the boat and I knew it must be you, so I thought I'd take a +run on shore and look you up." + +But such pleasant experiences were the exception. The South in general +was in a particularly blind and dull condition just then. The people +could not conceive of any amusement that was not intended literally to +"amuse." They felt it incumbent to laugh at everything. My _cheval de +bataille_ was the Polonaise from _Mignon_, at the end of which I had +introduced some chromatic trills. It is a wonderful piece and required a +great deal of genuine technique to master. A portion of the house would +appreciate it, of course, but on one occasion a detestable young couple +thought the trills were intended to be humorous. Whenever I sang a trill +they would poke each other in the ribs and giggle and, when there was a +series of the chromatic trills, they nearly burst. The chromatics +introduced by me were never written. They went like this: + +[Illustration: Musical notation.] + +One disapproving unit in an audience can spoil a whole evening for a +singer. I recall one concert when I was obsessed by a man in the front +row. He would not even look at me. Possibly he considered that I was a +spoiled creature and he did not wish to aid and abet the spoiling, or, +perhaps, he was really bored and disgusted. At any rate, he kept his +eyes fixed on a point high over my head and not with a beatific +expression, either. He clearly did not think much of my work. Well--I +sang my whole programme to that one man. And I was a failure. Charmed I +ever so wisely, I could not really move him. But I _did_ make him +uncomfortable! He wriggled and sat sidewise and clearly was uneasy. He +must have felt that I was trying to win him over in spite of himself. I +sometimes wonder if other singers do the same with obdurate auditors? +Surely they must, for it is a sort of fetish of the profession that +there is always one person present who is by far the most difficult to +charm. In that clever play _The Concert_ the pianist tells the young +woman in love with him that he was first interested in her when he saw +her in the audience because she did not cry. He played his best in order +to moisten her eyes and, when he saw a tear roll down her cheek, he knew +that he had triumphed as an artist. Our audiences were frequently inert +and indiscriminating. One night an usher brought me a programme from +some one in the audience with a suggestion scribbled on the margin: + +"Can't you sing something devilish for a change?" + +I believe they really wanted a song and dance, or a tight-rope +exhibition. We had a baritone who sang well "The Evening Star" from +_Tannhauser_ and his performance frequently ended in a chill silence +with a bit of half-hearted clapping. He had a sense of humour and he +used to come off the stage and say: + +"That didn't go very well! Do you think I'd better do my bicycle act +next?" + +[Illustration: <p>Clara Louise Kellogg as Carmen</p> + +From a photograph] + +Times change and standards with them. The towns where they yearned for +bicycle acts and "something devilish" are to-day centres of musical +taste and cultivation. I never think of the change of standards without +being reminded of an old tale of my father's which is curious in itself, +although I cannot vouch for it nor verify it. He said that somewhere in +Germany there was a bell in a church tower which, when it was first +hung, many years before, was pitched in the key of _C_ and which was +found to ring, in the nineteenth century, according to our present +pitch, at about our _B_ flat. The musical scientists said that the +change was not in the bell but in our own standard of pitch, which had +been gradually raised by the manufacturers of pianos who pitched them +higher and higher to get a more brilliant tone. + +My throat was very sensitive in those days. I took cold easily and used, +besides, to be subject to severe nervous headaches. Yet I always managed +to sing. Indeed, I have never had much sympathy with capricious _prime +donne_ who consider themselves and their own physical feelings before +their obligation to the public that has paid to hear them. While, of +course, in fairness to herself, a singer must somewhat consider her own +interests, I do believe that she cannot be too conscientious in this +connection. In _Carmen_ one night I broke my collar bone in the fall in +the last act. I was still determined to do my part and went out, after +it had been set, and bought material to match my costumes so that the +sling the surgeon had ordered should not be noticed. And, for once +fortunately, my audiences were either not exacting or not observing, +for, apparently, no comment was ever made on the fact that I could not +use my right arm. I could not help questioning whether my gestures were +usually so wooden that an arm, more or less, was not perceptible! Our +experiences in general with physicians on the road were lamentable. As a +result my mother carried a regular medicine chest about with her and all +of my fellow-artists used to come to her when anything was the matter +with them. + +Another hardship that we all had to endure was the being on exhibition. +It is one of the penalties of fame. Special trains were most unusual, +and so were _prime donne_, and crowds used to gather on the station +platforms wherever we stopped, waiting to catch a glimpse of us as we +passed through. + +And the food! Some of our trials in regard to food--or, rather, the lack +of it--were very trying. Voices are very dependent on the digestion; +hence the need of, at least, eatable food, however simple it may be. On +one trip we really nearly starved to death for, of course, there were no +dining-cars and the train did not stop at any station long enough to +forage for a square meal. Finally, in desperation, I told one of the men +in the company that, if he would get some "crude material" at the next +stop and bring it in, I would cook it. So he succeeded in securing a +huge bundle of raw chops, a loaf of bread and some butter. There was a +big stove at one end of the car and on its coals I broiled the chops, +made tea and toast, and we all feasted. Indeed, it seemed a feast after +ten hours with nothing at all! Another time I got off our "special" to +hunt luncheon and was left behind. I raced wildly to catch the train but +could not make it. After a while the company discovered that they had +lost me on the way and backed up to get me. Speaking of food, I shall +never forget the battle royal I once had with a hotel manager on the +road in regard to my coloured maid, Eliza. She was a very nice and +entirely presentable girl and he would not let her have even a cup of +tea in the dining-room. We had had a long, hard journey, and she was +quite as tired as the rest of us. So, when I found her still waiting +after I had lunched, I made a few pertinent remarks to the effect that +her presence at the table was much to be preferred to the men who had +eaten there without table manners, uncouth, feeding themselves with +their knives. + +"And what else did we have the war for!" I finally cried. How the others +laughed at me. But Eliza was fed, and well fed, too. + +I had always to carry my own bedclothes on the Western tours. When we +first started out, I did not realise the necessity, but later, I became +wiser. Cleanliness has always been almost more than godliness to me. +Before I would use a dressing-room I nearly always had it thoroughly +swept out and sometimes cleaned and scrubbed. This all depended on the +part of the country we were in. I came to know that in certain sections +of the South-west I should have to have a regular house-cleaning done +before I would set foot in their accommodations. I missed my bath +desperately, and my piano, and all the other luxuries that have become +practical necessities to civilised persons. When I could not have a +state-room on a train, my maid would bring a cup of cold water to my +berth before I dressed that was a poor apology for a bath, but that +saved my life on many a morning after a long, stuffy night in a sleeper. + +The lesser hardships perhaps annoyed me most. Bad food, bad air, rough +travelling, were worse than the more serious ills of fatigue and +indispositions. But the worst of all was the water. One can, at a pinch, +get along with poor food or with no food at all to speak of, but bad +water is a much more serious matter. Even dirt is tolerable if it can +be washed off afterwards. But I have seen many places where the water +was less inviting than the dirt. When I first beheld Missouri water I +hardly dared wash in it, much less drink it, and was appalled when it +was served to me at the table. I gazed with horror at the brown liquid +in my tumbler, and then said faintly to the waiter: + +"Can't you get me some clear water, please?" + +"Oh, yes," said he, "it'll be clearer, ma'am, _but it won't be near so +rich_!" + +And all the time I was working, for, no matter what the hardships or +distractions that may come an artist's way, he or she must always keep +at work. Singing is something that must be worked for just as hard after +it is won as during the winning process. Liszt is supposed to have said +that when he missed practising one day he knew it; when he missed two +days his friends knew it; on the third day the public knew it. I often +rehearsed before a mirror, so that I could know whether I looked right +as well as sounded right; and, _apropos_ of this, I have been much +impressed by the fact that ways of rehearsing are very different and +characteristic. Ellen Terry once told me that, when she had a new part +to study, she generally got into a closed carriage, with the window +open, and was driven about for two or three hours, working on her lines. + +"It is the only way I can keep my repose," she said. "I only wish I had +some of Henry's repose when studying a part!" + +[Illustration: =Sir Henry Irving and Ellen Terry as the Vicar and Olivia= + +From a photograph by Window & Grove] + + + + +CHAPTER XXII + +LONDON AGAIN + + +After nearly three years of concert and oratorio and racketing about +America on tours, it was a joy to go to England again for another +season. The Peace Jubilee Association asked me to sing at their +celebration in Boston that spring, but I went to London instead. The +offer from the Association was a great compliment, however, and +especially the wording of the resolution as communicated to me by the +secretary. + +"Unanimously voted:--That Miss Clara Louise Kellogg, the leading _prima +donna_ of America, receive the special invitation of the Executive +Committee, etc." + +The spring season in London was well along when we arrived there and, +before I had been in the city a day, I began to feel at home again. +Newcastle and Dr. Quinn called almost immediately and Alfred Rothschild +sent me flowers, all of which made me realize that this was really +England once more and that I was among old and dear friends. + +I was again to sing under Mapleson's management. The new opera house, +built on the site of Her Majesty's that had burned, was highly +satisfactory; and he had nearly all of his old singers again--Titjiens, +Nilsson, and myself among others. Patti and Lucca were still our rivals +at Covent Garden; also Faure and Cotogni; and there was a pretty, young, +new singer from Canada with them, Mme. Albani, who had a light, sweet +voice and was attractive in appearance. Our two innovations at Her +Majesty's were Marie Roze from the Paris Opera Comique--later destined +to be associated with me professionally and with Mapleson +personally--and Italo Campanini. Campanini was the son of a blacksmith +in Italy and had worked at the forge himself for many years before going +on the stage, and was the hero of the hour, for not only was his voice a +very lovely one, but he was also a fine actor. It was worth while to see +his Don Jose. People forgot that Carmen herself was in the opera. Our +other tenor was Capoul, the Frenchman, Trebelli-Bettini was our leading +contralto and my friend Foli--"the Irish Italian from Connecticut"--was +still with us. + +Campanini, the idol of the town, was, like most tenors, enormously +pleased with himself. To be sure, he had some reason, with his heavenly +voice, his dramatic gift, and his artistic instinct; but one would like +some day to meet a man gifted with a divine vocal organ and a simple +spirit both, at the same time. It appears to be an impossible +combination. When Mapleson told Campanini that he was to sing with me in +_Lucia_ he frowned and considered the point. + +"An American," he muttered doubtfully. "I have never heard her--do I +know that she can sing? I--Campanini--cannot sing with a _prima donna_ +of whom I know nothing! Who is this Miss Kellogg anyway?" + +"You're quite right," said the Colonel with the most cordial air of +assent. "You'd better hear her before you decide. She's singing Linda +to-night. Go into the stalls and listen to her for a few moments. If you +don't want to sing with her, you don't have to." + +That evening Campanini was on hand, ready to controvert the very idea of +an American _prima donna_ daring to sing with him. After the first act +he came out into the foyer and ran into the Colonel. + +"Well," remarked that gentleman casually, winking at Jarrett, "can she +sing?" + +"Sing?" said Campanini solemnly, "she has the voice of a flute. It is +the absolutely perfect tone. It is a--miracle!" + +So, after all, Campanini and I sang together that season in _Lucia_ and +in other operas. While Campanini was a great artist, he was a very petty +man in many ways. A little incident when Capoul was singing _Faust_ one +night is illustrative. Capoul, much admired and especially in America, +was intensely nervous and emotional with a quick temper. Between him and +Italo Campanini a certain rivalry had been developing for some time, +and, whatever may be asserted to the contrary, male singers are much +bitterer rivals than women ever are. On the night I speak of, Campanini +came into his box during the _Salve dimora_ and set down to listen. As +Capoul sang, the Italian's face became lined with a frown of annoyance +and, after a moment or two, he began to drum on the rail before him as +if he could not conceal his exasperation and _ennui_. The longer Capoul +sang, the louder and more irritated the tapping became until most of the +audience was unkind enough to laugh just a little. Poor Capoul tried, in +vain, to sing down that insistent drumming, and, when the act was over, +he came behind the scenes and actually cried with rage. + +On what might be called my second _debut_ in London, I had an ovation +almost as warm as my welcome home to my native land had been three years +before. I had forgotten how truly the English people were my friends +until I heard the applause which greeted me as I walked onto the stage +that night in _Linda di Chamouix_. Sir Michael Costa, who was conducting +that year, was always an irascible and inflexible autocrat when it came +to operatic rules and ideals. One of the points of observance upon which +he absolutely insisted was that the opera must never be interrupted for +applause. Theoretically this was perfectly correct; but nearly all good +rules are made to be broken once in a while and it was quite obvious +that the audience intended this occasion to be one of the times. Sir +Michael went on leading his orchestra and the people in front went on +clapping until the whole place became a pandemonium. The house at last, +and while still applauding, began to hiss the orchestra so that, after a +minute of a tug-of-war effect, Sir Michael was obliged to lay down his +baton--although with a very bad grace--and let the applause storm itself +out. I could see him scowling at me as I bowed and smiled and bowed +again, nearly crying outright at the friendliness of my welcome. There +were traitors in his own camp, too, for, as soon as the baton was +lowered, half the orchestra--old friends mostly--joined in the applause! +Sir Michael never before had broken through his rule; and I do not fancy +he liked me any the better for being the person to force upon him this +one exception. + +I include here a letter written to someone in America just after this +performance by Bennett of _The London Telegraph_ that pleased me +extremely, both for its general appreciative friendliness and because it +was a _resume_ of the English press and public regarding my former and +my present appearance in England. + + Miss Kellogg has not been forgotten during the years which + intervened, and not a few _habitues_ cherished a hope that she + would be led across the Atlantic once more. She was, however, + hardly expected to measure herself against the _creme-de-la-creme_ + of the world's _prime donne_ with no preliminary beat of drum and + blowing of trumpet, trusting solely to her own gifts and to the + fairness of an English public. This she did, however, and all the + English love of "pluck" was stirred to sympathy. We felt that here + was a case of the real Anglo-Saxon determination, and Miss Kellogg + was received in a manner which left nothing of encouragement to be + desired. Defeat under such circumstances would have been + honourable, but Miss Kellogg was not defeated. So far from this, + she at once took a distinguished place in our galaxy of "stars"; + rose more and more into favour with each representation, and ended, + as Susannah in _Le Nozze di Figaro_ by carrying off the honours + from the Countess of Mlle. Titjiens and the Cherubino of Mlle. + Nilsson. A greater achievement than this last Miss Kellogg's + ambition could not desire. It was "a feather in her cap" which she + will proudly wear back to her native land as a trophy of no + ordinary conflict and success. You may be curious to know the exact + grounds upon which we thus honour your talented countrywoman, and + in stating them I shall do better than were I to criticise + performances necessarily familiar. In the first place, we recognise + in Miss Kellogg an artist, and not a mere singer. People of the + latter class are plentiful enough, and are easily to be + distinguished by the way in which they "reel" off their task--a way + brilliant, perhaps, but exciting nothing more than the admiration + due to efficient mechanism. The artist, on the other hand, shows in + a score of forms that he is more than a machine and that something + of human feeling may be made to combine with technical correctness. + Herein lies the great charm often, perhaps, unconsciously + acknowledged, of Miss Kellogg's efforts. We know at once, listening + to her, that she sings from the depth of a keenly sensitive + artistic nature, and never did anybody do this without calling out + a sympathetic response. It is not less evident that Miss Kellogg + is a consummate musician--that "rare bird" on the operatic boards. + Hence, her unvarying correctness; her lively appreciation of the + composer in his happiest moments, and the manner in which she + adapts her individual efforts to the production of his intended + effects. Lastly, without dwelling upon the charm of a voice and + style perfectly well known to you and ungrudgingly recognised here, + we see in Miss Kellogg a dramatic artist who can form her own + notion of a part and work it out after a distinctive fashion. + Anyone able to do this comes with refreshing effect at a time when + the lyric stage is covered with pale copies of traditionary + excellence. It was refreshing, for example, to witness Miss + Kellogg's Susannah, an embodiment full of realism without + coarseness and _esprit_ without exaggeration. Susannahs, as a rule, + try to be ladylike and interesting. Miss Kellogg's waiting-maid was + just what Beaumarchais intended, and the audience recognised the + truthful picture only to applaud it. For all these reasons, and for + more which I have no space to name, we do honour to the American + _prima donna_, so that whenever you can spare her on your side we + shall be happy to welcome her on ours. + +It was during this season in London that Max Maretzek and Max Strakosch +decided to go into opera management together in America; and Maretzek +came over to London to get the company together. Pauline Lucca and I +were to be the _prime donne_ and one of our novelties was to be Gounod's +new opera _Mireille_, founded on the poem by the Provencal poet, +Mistral. I say "new opera" because it was still unknown in America; +possibly because it had been a failure in London where it had already +been produced. "The Magnificent" thought it would be sure to do well in +"the States" on account of the wild Gounod vogue that had been started +by _Faust_ and _Romeo and Juliette_. + +[Illustration: First edition of the _Faust_ score, published in 1859 by +Chousens of Paris, now in the Boston Public Library] + +I was to sing it; and Colonel Mapleson sent Mr. Jarrett with me to call +on Gounod, who was then living in London, to get what points I could +from the master himself. + +Everybody who knows anything about Gounod knows also about Mrs. Welldon. +Georgina Welldon, the wife of an English officer, was an exceedingly +eccentric character to say the least. Even the most straight-laced +biographers refer to the "romantic friendship" between the composer and +this lady--which, after all, is as good a way as any of tagging it. She +ran a sort of school for choristers in London and had, I believe, some +idea of training the poor boys of the city to sing in choirs. Her house +was usually full of more or less musical youngsters. She was, also, +something of a musical publisher and the organiser of a woman's musical +association, whether for orchestral or choral music I am not quite +certain. From this it will be seen that she was, at heart, a New Woman, +although her activities were in a period that was still old-fashioned. +If she were in her prime to-day, she would undoubtedly be a militant +suffragette. She was also noted for the lawsuits in which she figured; +one particular case dragging along into an unconscionable length of time +and being much commented upon in the newspapers. + +Gounod and she lived in Tavistock Place, in the house where Dickens +lived so long and that is always associated with his name. On the +occasion of our call, Mr. Jarrett and I were ushered into a study, much +littered and crowded, to wait for the great man. It proved to be a +somewhat long drawn-out wait, for the household seemed to be in a state +of subdued turmoil. We could hear voices in the hall; some one was +asking about a music manuscript for the publishers. Suddenly, a woman +flew into the room where we were sitting. She was unattractive and +unkempt; she wore a rumpled and soiled kimono; her hair was much +tousled; her bare feet were thrust into shabby bedroom slippers; and she +did not look in the least as if she had had her bath. Indeed, I am +expressing her appearance mildly and politely! She made a dive for the +master's writing-table, gathered up some papers--sorting and selecting +with lightning speed and an air of authority--and then darted out of the +room as rapidly as she had entered. It was, of course, Mrs. Welldon, of +whom I had heard so much and whom I had pictured as a fascinating woman. +This is the nearest I ever came to meeting this person who was so +conspicuous a figure of her day, although I have seen her a few other +times. When dressed for the street she was most ordinary looking. Gounod +was in the house, it developed, all the time that we waited, although he +could not attend to us immediately. He was living like a recluse so far +as active professional or social life was concerned, but he was a very +busy man and beset with all manner of duties. When he at last came to +us, he greeted us with characteristic French courtesy. His manners were +exceedingly courtly. He was grey-haired, charming, and very quiet. I +think he was really shy. With apologies, he opened his letters, and, +while giving orders and hearing messages, a pretty incident occurred. A +young girl, very graceful and sweet looking, came into the room. She +hurried forward with a little, impulsive movement and, curtseying deeply +to Gounod, seized one of his hands in both of hers and raised it to her +lips. + +"_Cher maitre!_" she murmured adoringly, and flitted away, the master +following her with a smiling glance. It was Nita Giatano, an American, +afterwards Mrs. Moncrieff, now the widow of an English officer, who was +studying with Gounod and living there and who, later, became fairly well +known as a singer. Then Gounod proceeded to say pleasant things about my +_Marguerite_ and was interested in hearing that I was planning to do +_Mireille_. We then and there went over the music together and he gave +me an annotated score of _Mireille_ with his autograph and marginal +directions. I treasured it for years afterwards; and a most tragic fate +overtook it at last. I sent it to a book-binder to be bound, and, when +the score came back, did not immediately look through it. It was some +time later, indeed, that I opened it to show it off to someone to whom I +had been speaking of the precious notes and autograph. I turned page +after page--there were no notes. I looked at the title page--there was +no signature. That wretched book-binder had not scrupled to substitute a +new and valueless score for my beloved copy, and had doubtless sold the +original, with Gounod's autograph and annotations, to some collector for +a pretty sum. When I tried to hunt the man up, I found that he had gone +out of business and moved away. He was not to be found and I have never +been able to regain my score. + +_Mireille_ was not given for several years, as affairs turned out, and I +rather congratulated myself that this was so, for it was not one of +Gounod's best productions. I once met Mme. Gounod in Paris, or, rather, +in its environs, at a garden party given at the Menier--the Chocolat +Menier--place. She was a well-mannered, commonplace Frenchwoman, rather +colourless and uninteresting. I came to understand that even Georgina +Welldon, with her untidy kimono and her lawsuits, might have been more +entertaining. I asked Gounod, on this occasion, to play some of the +music of _Romeo and Juliette_. He did so and, at the end, said: + +"I see you like my children!" + +Gounod was chiefly famous in London for the delightful recitals he gave +from time to time of his own music. He had no voice, but he could render +programmes of his own songs with great success. Everybody was +enthusiastic over the beautiful and intricate accompaniments that were +such a novelty. He was so splendid a musician that he could create a +more charming effect without a voice than another man could have +achieved with the notes of an angel. Poor Gounod, like nearly all +creative genuises, had a great many bitter struggles before he obtained +recognition. Count Fabri has told me that, while _Faust_ (the opera +which he sold for twelve hundred dollars) was running to packed houses +and the whole world was applauding it, Gounod himself was really in +need. His music publisher met him in the streets of Paris, wearing a +wretched old hat and looking very seedy. + +"Why on earth," cried the publisher, "don't you get a new hat?" + +"I did not make enough on _Faust_ to pay for one," was the bitter +answer. + + + + +CHAPTER XXIII + +THE SEASON WITH LUCCA + + +After the London season and before returning to America we went to +Switzerland for a brief holiday. During this little trip there occurred +a pleasing and somewhat quaint incident. On the Gruenewald Glacier we met +a young Italian-Swiss mountaineer who earned his living by making echoes +from the crags with a big horn and by the national art of yodeling. +There was one particular echo which was the pride of the region and, the +day we were exploring the glacier, he did not call it forth as well as +usual. Although he tried several times, we could distinguish very little +echo. Finally, acting on a sudden impulse, I stood up in our carriage +and yodeled for him, ending with a long trill. The high, pure air +exhilarated me and made me feel that I could do absolutely anything in +the world with my voice, and I actually struck one or two of the highest +and strongest notes that I ever sang in my life and one of the best +trills. The echoes came rippling back to us with wonderful effect. + +The young mountaineer took off his Tyrolean hat and bowed to me deeply. + +"Ah, mademoiselle!" he said, "if I could call into being such an echo, +my fortune here would be made!" + +Our stay there was all too short to please me and the day soon came for +us to start for home. We crossed on the _Cuba_ of the Cunard Line, and +a very poor steamer she was. It was not in the least an interesting +trip. There was no social intercourse, because all the passengers were +too seasick to talk or even to listen. It seemed to them like a personal +affront for anyone not to succumb to _mal de mer_. + +"You mean thing," one woman said to me, "why aren't you seasick!" + +Our passenger list was, however, a somewhat striking one. Rubenstein and +Wieniawski were on board and Clara Doria; Mark Smith, the actor; Edmund +Yeats and Maddox, the editor whom I had known in London, and, of course, +Pauline Lucca. She was registered as the Baroness von Raden and had her +baby with her--the one generally believed to have a royal father--and, +with her baby and her seasickness, was very much occupied. Her father +and mother accompanied her. Lucca, as we know, had been a ballerina. Her +toes were all twisted and deformed by her early years of dancing. She +once showed them to me, a pitiful record of the triumphs of a ballet +dancer. There was something of the ballerina in her temperament, also, +which she never entirely outgrew. Certainly she was far from being a +_prima donna_ type. An irresistible sense of fun made her a most amusing +companion; and her charm lay largely in her unexpectedness. One never +could guess what she was going to do or say next. I recall an incident +that occurred a little later in Chicago that illustrates this. A very +handsome music critic--I will not mention his name--came behind the +scenes one night to see us. He was a grave young man, with a brown beard +and beautiful eyes, and his appearance gave a vague sense of familiarity +as if we had seen it in some well-known picture. Yet I could not place +the resemblance. Lucca stood off at a little distance studying him +owlishly for a minute or two as he was chatting to me in the wings. +Presently she whisked up to him with her brown eyes dancing and, looking +up at him in the drollest way, said laughingly: + +"And how do you do, my Jesus Christ!" + +On this voyage home I saw more or less of Edmund Yeats who kept us +amused with a steady flow of witty talk and who kept up an equally +steady flow of brandy and soda, and of Maddox who was not seasick and +was willing to both walk and talk. Maddox was an interesting man, with +many strange stories to tell of things and people famous and well-known. +Among other personalities we discussed Adelaide Neilson, whose real +name, by the way, was Mary Ann Rogers. I was speaking of her refinement +and pretty manners on the stage, her gracious and yet unassuming fashion +of accepting applause, and her general air of good breeding, when Maddox +told me, to my great astonishment, that this was more remarkable than I +could possibly imagine since the charming actress had come from the most +disadvantageous beginnings. She had, in fact, led a life that is +generally characterised as "unfortunate" and it was while she was in +this life that Maddox first met her, and, finding the girl full of +ambition and aspirations toward something higher, had put her in the way +of cultivating herself and her talents. These facts as told me by Maddox +have always remained in my mind, not in the least to Neilson's +discredit, but quite the reverse, for they only make her charming and +artistic achievements all the more admirable. I have always enjoyed +watching her. She was always just diffident enough without being +self-conscious. It used to be pretty to see her from a box where I could +look at her behind the scenes compose herself before taking a curtain +call. She would slip into the mood of the part that she had just been +playing and that she wished still to suggest to the audience. Which +reminds me that Henry Irving once told me that he and Miss Terry did +exactly this same thing. "We always try to keep within the picture even +after the act is over," he said. "An actor should never take his call in +his own character, but always in that which he has been personating." + +On the whole the particular trip of which I am now speaking stands out +dominantly in my memory because of Rubenstein. I never, never saw anyone +so seasick, nor anyone so completely depressed by the fact. Poor +creature! He swore, faintly, that he would never cross the ocean again +even to get home! Occasionally he would talk feebly, but his spirit was +completely broken. I have not the faintest idea what Rubenstein was like +when he was not seasick. He may have sparkled consummately in a normal +condition; but he did not sparkle on the _Cuba_. + +The Lucca-Kellogg season which followed was not a comfortable one, but +it netted us large receipts. The work was arduous, the operas heavy, and +the management was up to its ears in contentions and jealousies. New +York was in a musical fever during the early seventies. We were just +finding out how to be musical and it was a great and pleasurable +excitement. We were pioneers, and enjoyed it, and were happy in not +being hide-bound by traditions as were the older countries, because we +had none. One of the season's sensations was Senorita Sanz, a Spanish +contralto, whose voice was not unlike that of Adelaide Phillips. She was +a beautiful woman and a good actress, and, above all, she had the true +Spanish temperament, languid, exotic and yet fiery. Her Azucena was a +fine performance; and she created a tremendous _furore_ with La Paloma, +which was then a novelty. She used to sing it at Sunday night concerts +and set the audiences wild with: + +[Illustration: Musical notation; Cuan-do...... sa-li de lo Ha-ba-na +Val-ga-me Dios!] + +Lucca's operas for the season were _Faust_, _Traviata_, _L'Africaine_, +_Fra Diavolo_ and _La Figlia del Regimento_. Mine were _Trovatore_, +_Traviata_, _Crispano_, _Linda_ and _Martha_, and _Don Giovanni_. It was +to Lucca's _Zerlina_ that I first sang Donna Anna in _Don Giovanni_; +and, as in the big concert at the Coliseum my friends had felt some +doubts as to the carrying power of my voice, so now many persons +expected the _role_ to be too heavy for me. But I believe I succeeded in +proving the contrary. When we did _Le Nozze di Figaro_, Lucca was the +Cherubino, making the quaintest looking of boys and much resembling one +of Raphael's cherubs in his painting of the _Sistine Madonna_. + +Personally, the relations between Lucca and myself were always amicable +enough; but we had certain professional frictions, brought about, +indeed, by Jarrett who, although he was nothing but an agent and an +indifferent one at that, was generally regarded as an authority, and +gave out critiques to the newspapers. It so happened that, without my +knowledge, the monopoly of singing in _Faust_ was in her contract and I +was so prevented from singing Marguerite once during our entire +engagement. As Marguerite was my _role_ pre-eminently, by right of +conquest, in America, I felt very hurt and angry about the matter and, +at first, wanted to resign from the company, but, of course, was talked +out of that attitude. Jarrett would not, however, consent to my even +alternating with Lucca in the part; but possibly he was wise in this as +Marguerite was never one of her best personations. She played a very +impulsive and un-German Gretchen, in spite of herself, being an Austrian +by birth. One of the newspapers said that "she fell in love with Faust +at first sight and the Devil was a useless article!" Her +characterisation of the part was somewhat devilish in itself; her work +was striking, effective, and _piquant_, but not touched by much +distinction. The difference between our presentations was said to be +that I "convinced by a refined perfection of detail" and Lucca by more +vivid qualities. Indeed, our voices and methods were so dissimilar that +we never felt any personal rivalry, whatever the critics said to the +contrary. As one man justly expressed it: "Neither Lucca nor Kellogg has +the talent for quarrelling." There were, of course, rival factions in +our public. A man one night sent a note behind the scenes to me +containing this message: "Poor Kellogg! you have no chance at all with +Lucca!" Two days later Mme. Lucca came to me laughing and said that some +one had asked her: "How do you dare to sing on the same bill with Miss +Kellogg, the American favourite?" + +[Illustration: =Newspaper Print of the Kellogg-Lucca Season= + +Drawn by Jos. Keppler] + +So interesting did our supposed rivalry become, however, as to excite +considerable newspaper comment. In reply to one of these in _The Chicago +Tribune_ a contributor answered: + + _To the Editor of The Chicago Tribune_: + + SIR: In your issue of this morning, there is an editorial headed + "Operatic Failure," which is, in some respects, so unjust and + one-sided as to call for an immediate protest against its + injustice. Having taken your ideas from _The New York Herald_, and + having no other source of information, it is not to be wondered at + that you should fall into error. For reasons best known to Mr. + James Gordon Bennett, _The New York Herald_, since the commencement + of the Jarrett-Maretzek season, has undertaken to write up Madame + Lucca at the expense of every other artist connected with the + troupe; and it is because of _The Herald's_ fulsome laudations of + Lucca, and its outrageously untruthful criticisms of Kellogg, that + much of the trouble has occurred. Of the two ladies, Kellogg is by + far the superior singer. Lucca has much dramatic force, but, in + musical culture, is not equal to her sister artist, and there is no + jealousy on the part of either lady of the other. The facts are + these: The management, taking their cue from _The Herald_, and + being afraid of the power of Mr. Bennett, tried to shelve Kellogg, + and the result has been that the dear public would not permit the + injustice, and they, the managers, as well as _The Herald_, are + amazed and angered at the result of their dirty work. + + OPERA. + + Chicago, Oct. 28, 1872. + +Lucca and I gave _Mignon_ that season together, she playing the part of +Mignon and I that of Felina, the cat. Mignon was always a favourite part +of my own, a sympathetic _role_ filled with poetry and sentiment. When I +first studied it, I most carefully read _Wilhelm Meister_, upon which it +is founded. Regarding the part of Felina, I have often wondered that +people have never been more perceptive than they appear to have been of +the analogy between her name and her qualities, for she has all of the +characteristics of the feline species. Our dual star bill in the opera +was highly successful and effective in spite of Jarrett's continual +attacks upon me through the press and in every way open to him. He did +me a particularly cruel turn about Felina. I started off in the _role_, +the opening night, in what I still believe to have been the correct +interpretation. _Wilhelm Meister_ was set in a finicky period and its +characters wore white wigs and minced about in their actions. My part +was all comedy and the gestures should have been little and dainty and +somewhat constrained. So I played it, until I saw this criticism, +written by one of Jarrett's creatures, "Miss Kellogg has no freedom of +movement in the _role_ of Felina, etc." + +My mother, always anxious for me to profit by criticism that might have +value, said that perhaps the man was right. At any rate, between the +two, I became so self-conscious that the next time I sang Felina I could +not get into the mood of it at all. Not to seem restricted in gesture, I +waved my arms as if I were in _Norma_; and the performance was a very +poor one in consequence. Yet, in spite of Jarrett's machinations, it was +said of me in the press of the day: + +" ...Her rendering of Felina was a magnificent success. From the first +scene on the balcony until her light-hearted laughter dies away, she is +a vision of beauty and grace, appealing to every high aesthetic emotion +and charming all hearts with her sweetness." + +[Illustration: =Clara Louise Kellogg in _Mignon_= + +From a photograph by Mora] + +Furthermore, an eminent Shakespearean critic, writing then, said: + + As an actress, Miss Kellogg's superiority cannot justly be + questioned. Some things are exquisitely represented by the fair + Swede, Miss Nilsson, such as the dazed look, the stupefaction + caused by a great shock, like that of the death of Valentin, for + instance; such as the madness to which the distracting conflict of + many selfish feelings and passions leads. But she is always + circumscribed by her own consciousness. Her soul never passes + beyond that limit--never surrounds her--filling the stage and + infecting the audience with a magnetic atmosphere which is a part + of herself, or herself transfused, if such expressions be + allowable. In this respect Miss Kellogg is very different and + greatly superior. Her sympathies are large. She conceives well the + effects of the warmer and more generous passions upon the person + who feels them. She can, by the force of her imagination, abandon + herself to these influences, and, by her artistic skill, give them + apt expression. She can cease to be self-conscious, and feel but + the fictitious consciousness of the personage whom she represents, + while the force of her own illusion magnetises her auditors till + they respond like well-tuned harps to every chord of feeling which + she strikes. + +Such notices, such critiques, were compensations! Taken as a whole, +Felina was a successful part for me; largely on account of that piece of +glittering generalities, the Polonaise. In this, according to one +critic, "she aroused the admiration of her auditors to a condition that +was really a tempestuous _furore_." So, as I say, there were +compensations for Jarrett's unkindnesses. + + + + +CHAPTER XXIV + +ENGLISH OPERA + + +The idea of giving opera in English has always interested me. I never +could understand why there were any more reasons against giving an +English version of _Carmen_ in New York than against giving a French +version of _Die Freischuetz_ in Paris or a German version of _La Belle +Helene_ in Berlin. To be sure, it goes without saying, from a purist +point of view it is a patent truth, that no libretto is ever so fine +after it has been translated. Not only does the quality and spirit of +the original evaporate in the process of translating, but, also, the +syllables come wrong. Who has not suffered from the translations of +foreign songs into which the translator has been obliged to introduce +secondary notes to fit the extra syllables of the clumsily adapted +English words? These are absolute objections to the performance of any +operas or songs in a language other than the one to which the composer +first set his music. Wagner in French is a joke; so is Goethe in +Italian. A musician of my acquaintance once spoke of Strauss's _Salome_ +as a case in point, although it is a queerly inverse one. "Oscar Wilde's +French poem or play--whichever you like to call it--" he said, "was +translated into German; and it was this translation, or so it is +generally understood, that Strauss set to music. When the opera--a +French opera in spirit, taken from French text that was most Frenchly +treated--was given with Oscar Wilde's original French words, the music +often seemed to go haltingly, as though it had been adopted to phrases +for which it had not been composed." Several notable singers have +recently entered a protest against giving opera in English. Miss +Garden--admirable and spontaneous artist though she be--once wrote an +article in which she cited _Madame Butterfly_ as an example of the +inartistic effects of English librettos. I do not recall her exact +words, but they referred to the scene in which Dick Pinkerton offers +Sharpless a whiskey and soda. Miss Garden said, If I remember correctly, +that the very words "whiskey and soda" were inartistic and spoiled the +poetry and picturesqueness of the act. Personally, I do not see that it +was the words that were inartistic, but, rather, the introduction of +whiskey and soda at all into a grand opera. My point is that such +objections obtain not more stringently against English translations than +against German, French, or Italian translations. Furthermore, after all +is said that can be said against translations into whatsoever language, +the fact remains that countries and races are not nearly so different as +they pretend to be; and a human sentiment, a dramatic situation, or a +lovely melody will permeate the consciousness of a Frenchman, an +Englishman, or a German in approximately the same manner and in the same +length of time. Adaptations and translations are merely different means, +poorer or better as the case may be, of facilitating such assimilations; +and, so soon as the idea reaches the audience, the audience is going to +receive it joyfully, no matter what nation it comes from or through what +medium:--that is, if it is a good idea to begin with. + +Possibly this may be a little beside the point; but, at least, it serves +to introduce the subject of English opera--or, rather, foreign grand +opera given in English--the giving of which was an undertaking on which +I embarked in 1873. I became my own manager and, with C. D. Hess, +organised an English Opera Company that, by its success, brought the +best music to the comprehension of the intelligent masses. I believe +that the enterprise did much for the advancement of musical art in this +country; and it, besides, gave employment to a large number of young +Americans, several of whom began their careers in the chorus of the +company and soon advanced to higher places in the musical world. Joseph +Maas was one of the singers whom this company did much for; and George +Conly was another. The former at first played small parts, but his +chance came to him as Lorenzo in _Fra Diavolo_, when he made a big hit, +and, eventually, he returned to England and became her greatest oratorio +tenor. I myself made the versions of the standard operas used by us +during the first season of English opera, translating them newly and +directly from the Italian and the French and, in some instances, +restoring the text to a better condition than is found in English opera +generally. My enterprise met with a great deal of criticism and +discussion. Usually, public opinion and the opinion of the press were +favourable. One of my staunch supporters was Will Davis, the husband of +Jessie Bartlett Davis. In _The Chicago Tribune_ he wrote: + + Unless the public can understand what is sung in opera or oratorio + recital, song or ballad, no more than a passing interest can be + awakened in the music-loving public. I do not agree with those who + claim that language or thought is a secondary consideration to the + enjoyment of vocal music. I believe that a superior writer of + lyrics can fit words to the music of foreign operas that will not + only be sensible but singable. I agree with _The Tribune_ that + opera in the English language has never had a fair show, but I + claim that the reason for this is because of the bad translations + that have been given to the artists to sing. + +After our success had become assured, one of the press notices read: + + Never, in this country, has English opera been so creditably + produced and so energetically managed as by the present + Kellogg-Hess combination. All the business details being supervised + by Mr. Hess, one of the longest-headed and hardest-working men of + business to be found in even this age and nation, are thoroughly, + systematically and promptly attended to; while all the artistic + details, being under the direct personal care of Miss Clara Louise + Kellogg, confessedly the best as well as the most popular singer + America has produced, are brought to and preserved at the highest + attainable musical standard. The performers embraced in the + Hess-Kellogg English Opera Company comprise several artists of the + first rank. The names of Castle, Maas, Peakes, Mrs. Seguin, Mrs. + Van Zandt, and Miss Montague are familiar as household words to the + musical world, while the _repertoire_ embraces not only all the old + established favourites of the public, but many of the most recent + or _recherche_ novelties, such as _Mignon_, and _The Star of the + North_, in addition to such genuine English operas as _The Rose of + Castille_. + +During the three seasons of our English Opera Company, we put on a great +number of operas of all schools, from _The Bohemian Girl_ to _The Flying +Dutchman_. The former is pretty poor stuff--cheap and insipid--I never +liked to sing it. But--the houses it drew! People loved it. I believe +there would be a large and sentimental public ready for it to-day. Its +extraneous matter, the two or three popular ballads that had been +introduced, formed a part of its attraction, perhaps. Our Devil's Hoof +in _The Bohemian Girl_ was Ted Seguin who became quite famous in the +part. His wife Zelda Seguin was our contralto and they were among the +earliest people to travel with _The Beggar's Opera_ and other primitive +performances. George A. Conly was our basso and a fine one. He was a +printer by trade and he had his first chance with us at the Globe +Theatre in Boston. He was our Deland, too, in _The Flying Dutchman_. +Eventually, he was drowned; and I gave a benefit for his widow. Maurice +Grau and Hess had gone to London to engage singers for my English Opera +Company and had selected, among others, Wilfred Morgan for first tenor +and Joseph Maas for second tenor. Morgan had been singing secondary +_roles_ for some time at Covent Garden. On our opening night of _Faust_ +he gave out with a sore throat, and Maas took his place successfully. +William Carlton once told me that when he was just starting out he +bought the theatrical wardrobe of Alberto Lawrence, a baritone, and was +looking at himself in a mirror, dressed in one of his second costumes, +in the green room of the Academy of Music early during our English +season, when Morgan came up to him and said: + +"Are you going on in those old rags?" + +Carlton had to go on in them. The critics next day gave him a couple of +columns of praise; but Morgan, whose wardrobe was gorgeous, was a +complete failure in his _debut_. Our manager had finally to tell him +that he could be second tenor or resign. In six weeks he was drawing +seventy dollars less salary than Carlton, who was a baritone and a +beginner. Carlton said that about this time Wilfred Morgan came up to +him exclaiming, + +"Well, Bill, I wish I had your voice and you had my clothes!" + +William Carlton was a young Englishman, only twenty-three when he joined +us; but he was already married and had two children. When we were +rehearsing _The Bohemian Girl_, in the scene where the stolen daughter +is recognised and Carlton had to take me in his arms, he said: + +"I ought to kiss you here." + +"Not lower than _this_!" said I, pointing to my forehead. He was much +amused. Indeed, he was always laughing at my mother and me for our +prudish ways; and my not marrying was always a joke between us. + +"It's a sin," he declared once, when we were talking on a train, "a +woman who would make such a perfect wife!" + +"Louise," interrupted my mother sternly, "don't talk so much! You'll +tire your voice!" + +My good mother! She was always ruffling up like an indignant hen about +me. In one scene of another opera, I remember, the villain and I had +been playing rather more strenuously than usual and he caught my arm +with some force. I staggered a little as I came off the stage and my +mother flew at him. + +"Don't you dare touch my daughter so roughly," she cried, much annoyed. + +Mr. Carlton has paid me a nice tribute when writing of those days and of +me at that time. He has said: + + I have the most grateful memory of the sympathetic assistance I + received from the gifted _prima donna_ when I arrived in this + country under the management of Maurice Grau and C. D. Hess, who + were conducting the business details of the Kellogg Grand Opera + Company. Like many Englishmen, I was quite unprepared for the + evidences of perfection which characterised the production of opera + in the United States and, as I had not yet attained my + twenty-fourth year, I was somewhat awed by the importance of the + _roles_ and the position I was imported to fulfil. It was in a + great measure due to the gracious help I received from Miss Kellogg + that, at my _debut_ at the Academy of Music, Philadelphia, as + Valentine in _Faust_ to her Marguerite, I achieved a success which + led up to my renewing the engagement for four consecutive years. + +In putting on grand opera in English I had, in each case, the tradition +of two countries to contend with; but I endeavoured to secure some +uniformity of style and usually rehearsed them all myself, sitting at +the piano. The singers were, of course, hide-bound to the awful +translations that were institutional and to them inevitable. None of +them would have ever considered changing a word, even for the better. +The translation of _Mignon_ was probably the most completely +revolutionary of the many translations and adaptations I indulged in. I +shall never forget one fearfully clumsy passage in _Trovatore_. + + "To the handle, + To the handle, + To the handle + Strike the dagger!" + +There were two modifications possible, either of which was vastly +preferable, and without actually changing a word. + + "Strike the dagger, + Strike the dagger, + Strike the dagger + To the handle!" + +or, which I think was the better way, + + "Strike the dagger + To the handle, + Strike the dagger + To the handle!" + +a simple and legitimate repetition of a phrase. This is a case in +illustration of the meaningless absurdity and unintelligibility of the +average libretto. + +Those were the days in which I devoutly appreciated my general sound +musical training. The old stand-bys, _Fra Diavolo_, _Trovatore_, and +_Martha_ were all very well. Most singers had been reared on them from +their artistic infancy. But, for example, _The Marriage of Figaro_ was +an innovation. To it I had to bring my best experience and judgment as +cultivated in our London productions; and we finally gave a very +creditable English performance of it. Then there were, besides, the new +operas that had to be incepted and created and toiled over:--_The +Talisman_ and _Lily o'Killarney_ among others. _The Talisman_ by Balfe, +an opera of the Meyerbeerian school, was first produced at the Drury +Lane in London, with Nilsson, Campanini, Marie Roze, Rota, and others. +Our presentation of it was less pretentious, naturally, but we had an +excellent cast, with Joseph Maas as Sir Kenneth, William Carlton as +Coeur de Lion, Mme. Loveday as Queen Berengaria, and Charles Turner as +De Vaux. I was Edith Plantaganet. When the opera was first put on in +London, under the direction of Sir Jules Benedict, it was called _The +Knight of the Leopard_. Later, it was translated into Italian under the +title of _Il Talismano_, and from that finally re-translated by us and +given the name of Sir Walter Scott's work on which it was based. It was +not only Balfe's one real grand opera, but was also his last important +work. _Lily o'Killarney_, by Sir Jules Benedict, was not a striking +novelty. It had a graceful duet for the basso and tenor, and one pretty +solo for the _prima donna_--"I'm Alone"--but, otherwise, it did not +amount to much. But we scored in it because of our good artistry. Our +company was a good one. Parepa Rosa did tremendous things with her +English opera _tournees_; but I honestly think our work was more +artistic as well as more painstaking. There were not many of us; but we +did our best and pulled together; and I was very happy in the whole +venture. Benedict's _Lily o'Killarney_ was written particularly for me, +and was inspired by _Colleen Bawn_, Dion Boucicault's big London +success. I have always understood that Oxenford wrote the libretto of +that--a fine one as librettos go--but Grove's Dictionary says that +Boucicault helped him. + +Perhaps this is as good a place as any in which to mention Sir George +Grove and his dictionary. When I was in London I was told that young +Grove--he was not "Sir" then--was compiling a dictionary; and, not +having a very exalted idea of his ability, I am free to confess that, in +a measure, I snubbed him. In his copiously filled and padded dictionary, +he punished me by giving me less than half a column; considerably less +space than is devoted in the corresponding column to one Michael Kelly +"composer of wines and importer of music!" It is an accurate paragraph, +however, and he heaped coals of fire on my head by one passage that is +particularly suitable to quote in a chapter on English opera: + + She organised an English troupe, herself superintending the + translation of the words, the _mise en scene_, the training of the + singers and the rehearsals of the chorus. Such was her devotion to + the project that, in the winter of '74-'75, she sang no fewer than + one hundred and twenty-five nights. It is satisfactory to hear that + the scheme was successful. Miss Kellogg's musical gifts are + great.... She has a remarkable talent for business and is never so + happy as when she is doing a good or benevolent action. + +I have never been able to determine to my own satisfaction whether the +"remarkable talent for business" was intended as a compliment or not! +The one hundred and twenty-five record is quite correct, a number of +performances that tried my endurance to the utmost; but I loved all the +work. This particular venture seemed more completely my own than +anything on which I had yet embarked. + +We put on _The Flying Dutchman_, at the Academy of Music (New York), and +it was a tremendous undertaking. It was another case of not having any +traditions nor impressions to help us. No one knew anything about the +opera and the part of Senta was as unexplored a territory for me as that +of Marguerite had been. One thing I had particular difficulty in +learning how to handle and that was Wagner's trick of long pauses. There +is a passage almost immediately after the spinning song in _The Flying +Dutchman_ during which Senta stands at the door and thinks about the +Flying Dutchman, preceding his appearance. Then he comes, and they stand +still and look at each other while a spell grows between them. She +recognises Vanderdecken as the original of the mysterious portrait; and +he is wondering whether she is the woman fated to save him by +self-sacrifice. The music, so far as Siegfried Behrens, my director at +the time, and I could see, had no meaning whatever. It was just a long, +intermittent mumble, continuing for eighteen bars with one slight +interruption of thirds. I had not yet been entirely converted to +innovations such as this and did not fully appreciate the value of so +extreme a pause. I knew, of course, that repose added dignity; but this +seemed too much. + +"For heaven's sake, Behrens," said I, "what's the public going to do +while we stand there? Can we hold their interest for so long while +nothing is happening?" + +Behrens thought there might be someone at the German Theatre who had +heard the opera in Germany and who could, therefore, give us +suggestions; but no one could be found. Finally Behrens looked up +Wagner's own brochure on the subject of his operas and came to me, still +doubtful, but somewhat reassured. + +"Wagner says," he explained, "not to be disturbed by long intervals. If +both singers could stand absolutely still, this pause would hold the +public double the length of time." + +We tried to stand "absolutely still." It was an exceedingly difficult +thing to do. In _roles_ that have tense moments the whole body has to +hold the tension rigidly until the proper psychological instant for +emotional and physical relaxation. The public is very keen to feel this, +without knowing how or why. A drooping shoulder or a relaxed hand will +"let up" an entire situation. The first time I sang Senta it seemed +impossible to hold the pause until those eighteen bars were over. "I +have _got_ to hold it! I have _got_ to hold it!" I kept saying to +myself, tightening every muscle as if I were actually pulling on a wire +stretched between myself and the audience. I almost auto-hypnotized +myself; which probably helped me to understand the Norwegian girl's own +condition of auto-hypnotism! An inspiration led me to grasp the back of +a tall Dutch chair on the stage. That chair helped me greatly and, as +affairs turned out, I held the audience quite as firmly as I held the +chair! + +Afterwards I learned the wonderful telling-power of these "waits" and +the great dignity that they lend to a scene. There is no hurry in +Wagner. His work is full of pauses and he has done much to give leisure +to the stage. When I was at Bayreuth--that most beautiful monument to +genius--I met many actors from the Theatre Francais who had journeyed +there, as to a Mecca, to study this leisurely stage effect among others. + +Our production was a fair one but not elaborate. We had, I remember, a +very good ship, but there were many shortcomings. There is supposed to +be a transfiguration scene at the end in which Senta is taken up to +heaven; but this was beyond us and _I_ was never thus rewarded for my +devotion to an ideal! I liked Senta's clothes and make-up. I used to +wear a dark green skirt, shining chains, and a wonderful little apron, +long and of white woollen. For hair, I wore Marguerite's wig arranged +differently. I should like to be able to put on a production of _Die +Fliegende Hollaender_ now! There is just one artist, and only one, whom I +would have play the Dutchman--and that is Renaud, for the reason, +principally, that he would have the necessary repose for the part. I had +understudies as a matter of course. One of them was wall-eyed; and, on +an occasion when I was ill, she essayed Senta. William Carlton, was, as +usual, our Dutchman, and he had not been previously warned of Senta's +infirmity. He came upon it so unexpectedly, indeed, and it was so +startling to him, that he sang the whole opera without looking at her +for fear that he would break down! + + + + +CHAPTER XXV + +ENGLISH OPERA (_Continued_) + + +No account of our English Opera would be complete without mention of +Mike. He was an Irish lad with all the wit of his race, and his head was +of a particularly classic type. He was only sixteen when he joined us, +but he became an institution, and I kept track of him for years +afterwards. His duties were somewhat arbitrary, and chiefly consisted of +calling at the dressing-room of the chorus each night after the opera +with a basket to collect the costumes. Beyond this, his principal +occupation was watching my scenes and generally pervading the +performances with genuine interest. He particularly favoured the third +act of _Faust_, I remember; and absolutely considered himself a part of +my career, constantly making use of the phrase "Me and Miss Kellogg." + +One of the operas we gave in English was my old friend _The Star of the +North_. It was quite as much a success in English as it had been in the +original. We chose it for our _gala_ performance in Washington when the +Centennial was celebrated, and my good friends, President and Mrs. +Grant, were in the audience. The King of Hawaii was also present, with +his suite, and came behind the scenes and paid me extravagant +compliments. His Hawaiian Majesty sent me lovely heliotropes, I +remember,--my favourite flower and my favourite perfume. At one +performance of _The Star of the North_ at a matinee in Booth's Theatre, +New York, there occurred an incident that was reminiscent of my London +experience with Sir Michael Costa's orchestra. It was in the third act, +the camp scene. There is a quartette by Peter, Danilowitz and two +_vivandieres_ almost without accompaniment in the tent on the stage, and +I, as Catherine, had to take up the note they left and begin a solo at +its close. The orchestra was supposed to chime in with me, a simple +enough matter to do if they had not fallen from the key. It is +surprising how relative one's pitch is when suddenly appealed to. Even a +very trained ear will often go astray when some one gives it a wrong +keynote. Music more than almost any other art is dependent; every tone +hangs on other tones. That particular quartette was built on a musical +phrase begun by one of the sopranos and repeated by each. She started on +the key. The mezzo took it up a shade flat. The tenor, taking the phrase +from the mezzo, dropped a little more, and when the basso got through +with it, they were a full semitone lower. Had I taken my _attaque_ from +their pitch, imagine the situation when the orchestra came in! My heart +sank as I saw ahead of us the inevitable discord. It came to the last +note. I allowed a half-second of silence to obliterate their false +pitch. Then I _concentrated_--and took up my solo in the _original and +correct key_. That "absolute pitch" again! Behrens expressed his +amazement after the curtain fell. + +The company, after that, was never tired of experimenting with my gift. +It became quite a joke with them to cry out suddenly, at any sort of +sound--a whistle, or a bell: + +"Now, what note is that? What key was that in, Miss Kellogg?" + +Most of our travelling on these big western tours of opera was very +tiresome, although we did it as easily as we could and often had special +cars put at our disposal by railroad directors. We were still looked +upon as a species of circus and the townspeople of the places we passed +through used to come out in throngs at the stations. I have said so much +about the poor hotels encountered at various times while on the road +that I feel I ought to mention the disastrous effect produced once by a +really good hotel. It was at the end of our first English Opera season +and, in spite of the fact that we were all worn out with our +experiences, we proceeded to give an auxiliary concert trip. We had a +special sleeper in which, naturally, no one slept much; and by the time +we reached Wilkesbarre we were even more exhausted. The hotel happened +to be a good one, the rooms were quiet, and the beds comfortable. Every +one of us went promptly to bed, not having to sing until the next night, +and William Carlton left word at the office that he was going to sleep: +"and don't call me unless there's a fire!" he said. In strict accordance +with these instructions nobody did call him and he slept twenty-four +hours. When he awoke it was time to go to the theatre for the +performance and--he found he couldn't sing! He had slept so much that +his circulation had become sluggish and he was as hoarse as a crow. +Consequently, we had to change the programme at the last moment. + +Carlton, like most nervous people, was very sensitive and easily put out +of voice, even when he had not slept twenty-four consecutive hours. Once +in _Trovatore_ he was seized with a sharp neuralgic pain in his eyes +just as he was beginning to sing "Il Balen" and we had to stop in the +middle of it. During this same performance, an unlucky one, Wilfred +Morgan, who was Manrico, made both himself and me ridiculous. In the +_finale_ of the first act of the opera, the Count and Manrico, rivals +for the love of Leonora, draw their swords and are about to attack each +other, when Leonora interposes and has to recline on the shoulder of +Manrico, at which the attack of the Count ceases. Morgan was burly of +build and awkward of movement and, for some reason, failed to support +me, and we both fell heavily to the floor. It is so easy to turn a +serious dramatic situation into ridicule that, really, it was very +decent indeed of our audience to applaud the _contretemps_ instead of +laughing. + +Ryloff, an eccentric Belgian, was our musical director for a short time. +He was exceedingly fond of beer and used to drink it morning, noon, and +night,--especially night. Even our rehearsals were not sacred from his +thirst. In the middle of one of our full dress rehearsals he suddenly +stopped the orchestra, laid down his baton, and said to the men: + +"Boys, I _must_ have some beer!" + +Then he got up and deliberately went off to a nearby saloon while we +awaited his good pleasure. + +I have previously mentioned what a handsome and dashing Fra Diavolo +Theodore Habelmann was, and naturally other singers with whom I sang the +opera later have suffered by comparison. In discussing the point with a +young girl cousin who was travelling with me, we once agreed, I +remember, that it was a great pity no one could ever look the part like +our dear old Habelmann. Castle was doing it just then, and doing it very +well except for his clothes and general make-up. But he was so extremely +sensitive and yet, in some ways, so opinionated, that it was impossible +to tell him plainly that he did not look well in the part. At last, my +cousin conceived the brilliant scheme of writing him an anonymous +letter, supposed to be from some feminine admirer, telling him how +splendid and wonderful and irresistible he was, but also suggesting how +he could make himself even more fascinating. A description of +Habelmann's appearance followed and, to our great satisfaction, our +innocent little plot worked to a charm. Castle bought a new costume +immediately and strutted about in it as pleased as Punch. He really did +present a much more satisfactory appearance, which was a comfort to me, +as it is really so deplorably disillusioning to see a man looking frumpy +and unattractive while he is singing a gallant song like: + +[Illustration: Musical notation; Proud-ly and wide ... my stand-ard + +flies O'er dar-ing heads, a no-ble band!] + +Naturally these tours brought me all manner of adventures that I have +long since forgotten--little incidents "along the road" and meetings +with famous personages. Among them stand out two experiences, one grave +and one gay. The former was an occasion when I went behind the scenes +during a performance of _Henry VIII_ to see dear Miss Cushman (it must +have been in the early seventies, but I do not know the exact date), who +was playing Queen Katherine. She asked me if I would be kind enough to +sing the solo for her. I was very glad to be able to do so, of course, +and so, on the spur of the moment, complied. I have wondered since how +many people in front ever knew that it was I who sang _Angels Ever +Bright and Fair_ off stage, during the scene in which the poor, +wonderful Queen was dying! The other experience of these days which I +treasure was my meeting with Eugene Field. It was in St. Louis, where +Field was a reporter on one of the daily papers. He came up to the old +Lindell Hotel to interview me; but that was something I would _not_ +do--give interviews to the press--so my mother went down to the +reception room with her sternest air to dismiss him. She found the +waiting young man very mild-mannered and pleasant, but she said to him +icily: + +"My daughter never sees newspaper men." + +"Oh," said he, looking surprised, "I'm a singer and I thought Miss +Kellogg might help me. I want to have my voice trained." (This is the +phrase used generally by applicants for such favours.) Mother looked at +the young man suspiciously and pointed to the piano. + +"Sing something," she commanded. + +Field obediently sat down at the instrument and sang several songs. He +had a pleasing voice and an expressive style of singing, and my mother +promptly sent for me. We spent some time with him in consequence, +singing, playing, and talking. It was an excellent "beat" for his paper, +and neither my mother nor I bore him any malice, we had liked him so +much, when we read the interview next day. After that he came to see me +whenever I sang where he happened to be and we always had a laugh over +his "interview" with me--the only one, by the way, obtained by any +reporter in St. Louis. + +On one concert tour--a little before the English Opera venture--we had +arrived late one afternoon in Toledo where the other members of the +company were awaiting me. Petrelli, the baritone, met me at the train +and said immediately: + +"There is a strange-looking girl at the hotel waiting for you to hear +her sing." + +"Oh, dear," I exclaimed, "another one to tell that she hasn't any +ability!" + +"She's _very_ queer looking," Petrelli assured me. + +As I went to my supper I caught a glimpse of a very unattractive person +and decided that Petrelli was right. She was exceedingly plain and +colourless, and had a large turned-up nose. After supper, I went to my +room to dress, as I usually did when on tour, for the theatre +dressing-rooms were impossible, and presently there was a knock at the +door and the girl presented herself. + +She was poorly clad. She owned no warm coat, no rubbers, no proper +clothing of any sort. I questioned her and she told me a pathetic tale +of privation and struggle. She lived by travelling about from one hotel +to the next, singing in the public parlour when the manager would permit +it, accompanying herself upon her guitar, and passing around a plate or +a hat afterwards to collect such small change as she could. + +"I sang last night here," she told me, "and the manager of the hotel +collected eleven dollars. That's all I've got--and I don't suppose he'll +let me have much of that!" + +Of course I, who had been so protected, was horrified by all this. I +could not understand how a girl could succeed in doing that kind of +thing. She told me, furthermore, that she took care of her mother, +brothers, and sisters. + +"I must go to the post-office now and see if there's a letter from +mother!" she exclaimed presently, jumping up. It was pouring rain +outside. + +"Show me your feet!" I said. + +She grinned ruefully as she exhibited her shoes, but she was off the +next moment in search of her letter. When she came back to the hotel, I +got hold of her again, gave her some clothes, and took her to the +concert in my carriage. After I had sung my first song she rushed up to +me. + +"Let me look down your throat," she cried excitedly, "I've got to see +where it all comes from!" + +After the concert we made her sing for us and our accompanist played for +her. She asked me frankly if I thought she could make her living by her +voice and I said yes. Her poverty and her desire to get on naturally +appealed to me, and I was instrumental in raising a subscription for her +so that she could come East. My mother immediately saw the hotel +proprietor and arranged that what money he had collected the night +before should be turned over to her. It has been said that I am +responsible for Emma Abbott's career upon the operatic stage, but I may +be pardoned if I deny the allegation. My idea was that she intended to +sing in churches, and I believe she did so when she first came to New +York. She was the one girl in ten thousand who was really worth helping, +and of course my mother and I helped her. When we returned from my +concert tour, I introduced her to people and saw that she was properly +looked out for. And she became, as every one knows, highly successful in +opera--appearing in many of my own _roles_. In a year's time from when I +first met her, Emma Abbott was self-supporting. She was a girl of +ability and I am glad that I started her off fairly, although, as a +matter of fact, she would have got on anyway, whether I had done +anything for her or not. Her way to success might have been a longer +way, unaided, but she would have succeeded. She was eaten up with +ambition. Yet there is much to respect in such a dogged determination to +succeed. Of course, she was never particularly grateful to me. Of all +the girls I have helped--and there have been many--only one has ever +been really grateful, and she was the one for whom I did the least. Emma +wrote me a flowery letter once, full of such sentences as "when the +great _Prima Donna_ shined on me," and "I was almost in heaven, and I +can remember just how you sang and looked," and "never can I forget all +your goodness to me." But in the little ways that count she never +actually evinced the least appreciation. Whenever we were in any way +pitted against each other, she showed herself jealous and ungenerous. +She made enemies in general by her lack of tact, and never could get on +in London, for instance, although in her day the feeling there for +American singers was becoming most kindly. + +Emma Abbott did appalling things with her art, of which one of the +mildest was the introduction into _Faust_ of the hymn _Nearer My God to +Thee_! It was in Italy that she did it, too. I believe she introduced it +to please the Americans in the audience, many of whom applauded, +although the Italians pointedly did not. And yet she was always trying +to "purify" the stage and librettos! I have always felt about Emma +Abbott that she had _too much_ force of character. Another thing that I +never liked about her was the manner in which she puffed her own +successes. She was reported to have made five times more than she +actually did; but, at that, her earnings were considerable, for she +would sacrifice much--except the character--to money-getting. Indeed, +she was a very fine business woman. + +I have spoken about George Conly's tragic death by drowning and of the +benefit the Kellogg-Hess English Opera Company gave for his widow. Conly +had also sung with Emma Abbott and, when the benefit was given, she and +I appeared on the same programme. She knew my baritone, Carlton, and +sent for him before the performance. She explained that she wanted him +to appear on the bill with her in _Maritana_ and, also, to see that all +donations from my friends and colleagues were sent to her, so that her +collection should be larger than mine. Carlton explained to her that he +was singing with Miss Kellogg and so would send any money that he could +collect to her. It seems incredible that any one could do so small an +action, and I can only consider it one of many little attempts to be +spiteful and to show me that my erstwhile _protegee_ was now at the "top +of the ladder." + +Her thirst for profits finally was the indirect means of her death. When +Utah was still a territory, the town of Ogden, where many travelling +companies gave concerts, was very primitive. The concert hall had no +dressing-room and was cold and draughty. I always refused outright to +sing in such theatres, or else dressed in my hotel and drove to the +concert warmly wrapped up. Emma Abbott was warned that the stage in the +concert hall of the town of Ogden was bitterly cold. The house had sold +well, however, and the receipts were considerable. Emma dressed in an +improvised screened-off dressing-room, and, having a severe cold to +begin with, she caught more on that occasion, and suddenly developed a +serious case of pneumonia from which she died, a victim to her own +indiscretion. + + + + +CHAPTER XXVI + +AMATEURS--AND OTHERS + + +In the seventies New York was interesting musically, chiefly because of +its amateurs. This sounds something like a paradox, but at that time New +York had a collection of musical amateurs who were almost as highly +cultivated as professionals. It was a set that was extremely interesting +and quite unique; and which bridged in a wonderful way the traditional +gulf between art and society. + +Those of us who were fortunate enough to know New York then look about +us with wonder and amazement now. It seems, with our standards of an +earlier generation, as if there were no true social life to-day, just as +there are left no great social leaders. As for music--but perhaps it +behooves a retired _prima donna_ to be discreet in making comparisons. + +Mrs. Peter Ronalds; Mrs. Samuel Barlow; her daughter Elsie, who became +Mrs. Stephen Henry Olin; May Callender; Minnie Parker--the granddaughter +of Mrs. Hill and later the wife of M. de Neufville;--these and many +others were the amateurs who combined music and society in a manner +worthy of the great French hostesses and originators of _salons_. Mrs. +Barlow was in advance of everybody in patronising music. She was +cultivated and artistic, had travelled a great deal abroad, and had +acquired a great many charming foreign graces in addition to her own +good American brains and breeding, and her fine natural social tact. +When I returned to New York after a sojourn on the other side, she came +to see me one day, and said: + +"Louise, you've been away so much you don't know what our amateurs are +doing. I want you to come to my house to-night and hear them sing." + +Like all professionals, I was a bit inclined to turn up my nose at the +very word "amateur," but of course I went to Mrs. Barlow's that evening, +and I have rarely spent a more enjoyable three hours. Elsie Barlow sang +delightfully. She had a limited voice, but an unusual musical +intelligence; I have seldom heard a public singer give a piece of music +a more delicate and discriminating interpretation. Then Miss May +Callender sang "Nobile Signor" from the _Huguenots_, and astonished me +with her artistic rendering of that _aria_. Miss Callender could have +easily been an opera singer, and a distinguished one, if she had so +chosen. Eugene Oudin, a Southern baritone, also sang with charming +effect. Minnie Parker, an eminent connoisseur in music, had her turn. +She sang "Bel Raggio" from _Semiramide_ with fine execution and all the +Rossini traditions. And I must not forget to mention Fanny Reed, Mrs. +Paran Stevens's sister, who sang very agreeably an _aria_ from _Il +Barbiere_. Altogether it was a most startling and illuminating evening, +and I was proud of my country and of a society that could produce such +amateurs. + +Mrs. Peter Ronalds was another charming singer of that group; as was, +also, Mrs. Moulton, who was Lillie Greenough before her marriage. Both +had delightful and well cultivated voices. Mrs. Moulton had studied +abroad, but for the most part the amateurs of that day were purely +American products. + +I often visited Mrs. Barlow at her country place at Glen Cove, L. I. She +was the most tactful of hostesses, and in her house there was no fuss or +formality, nothing but kind geniality and courtesy. She was the first +hostess in the United States to ask her women guests to bring their +maids; and she never once has asked me to sing when I was there. I did +sing, of course, but she was too well-bred to let me feel under the +slightest obligation. American hostesses are certainly sometimes very +odd in this connection. I have mentioned Fanny Reed and Mrs. Stevens in +Boston, and the time I had to play "Tommy Tucker" and sing for my +supper; and I am now reminded of another occasion even more +unpardonable, one that made me indirectly quite a bit of trouble. + +Once upon a time when I was visiting in Chicago, and was being made much +of as an American _prima donna_ freshly arrived from European triumphs, +some old friends of my father gave me a reception. I had been for nearly +fourteen months abroad, and had come back with the associations and +manners of the best people of the older countries: and this I +particularly mention to suggest what a shock my treatment was to me. + +On the day of the reception I had one of my worst sick headaches. I did +not want to go, naturally, but the husband of the woman giving the +reception called for me and begged that I would show myself there, if +only for a few moments. My mother also urged me to make an effort and +go. I made it--and went. In view of what afterwards occurred, I want to +say that my costume was a black velvet gown created by Worth, with a +heavy, long, handsome coat and a black velvet hat. When I reached the +house I was so ill that I could not stand at the door with my hostess +to receive the guests, but remained seated, hoping that I would not +groan aloud with the throbbing of my head. + +The ladies began arriving, and nearly every one of them was in full +evening dress--_in the afternoon_! Mrs. Marshall Field, I remember, came +in an elaborate point lace shawl, and no hat. + +I had not been there half an hour before I was asked to sing! I had +brought no music, there was no accompanist, and I was so dizzy that I +could hardly see the keys of the piano, yet, as the request was not +altogether the fault of my hostess, I did my best, playing some sort of +an accompaniment and singing something--very badly, I imagine. Then I +went home and to bed. + +That episode was served up to me for eight years. I never went to +Chicago without reading some reference to it in the newspapers, and my +friends have told me that years later it was still discussed with +bitterness. It was stated that I was "ungracious," "rude," and that I +had "insulted the guests by my plain street attire" (shade of the great +Worth!); that I only sang once and then with no attempt to do my best; +that I did not eat the elaborate refreshments; did not rise from my +chair when people were presented to me; and left the house inside an +hour, although the reception was given for me. The bitterest attack was +an article printed in one of the morning papers, an article written by a +woman who had been among the guests. I never answered that or any other +of the attacks because the host and hostess were old friends and felt +very badly about the affair; but I have a memory of Chicago that will go +with me to the grave. It was very different with the New York hostesses +of whom Mrs. Barlow, Mrs. Ronalds, and Mrs. Gilder were the +representatives. By them a singer was treated as a little more, not +less, than an ordinary human being! + +O you unfortunate people of a newer day who have not the memory of that +enchanting meeting-ground in East Fifteenth Street:--the delightful +Gilder studio, the rebuilding of which from a carriage house into a +studio-home was about the first piece of architectural work done by +Stanford White. There was one big, beautiful room, drawing-room and +sitting-room combined, with a fine fireplace in it. Many a time have I +done some scene from an opera there, in the firelight, to a sympathetic +few. Everybody went to the Richard Watson Gilders'--at least, everybody +who was worth while. They were in New York already the power that they +remained for so many years. Some pedantic enthusiast once said of them +that, "The Gilders were empowered by divine right to put the _cachet_ of +recognition upon distinction." + +Miss Jeannette Gilder came into my life as long ago as 1869. I was +singing in a concert in Newark and she was in the wings, listening to my +first song. My mother and my maid were near her and, when I came off the +stage, as we were trying to find a certain song for an _encore_, the +pile of music fell at her feet. Promptly the tall young stranger said: + +"Please let me hold them for you." + +Her whole personality expressed a species of beaming admiration. I +looked at her critically; and from this small service began our +friendship. + +The Gilders were then living in Newark. The father, who was a Chaplain +in the 40th New York Volunteers, died during the Civil War. His sons, +Richard Watson Gilder and William H. Gilder, were also soldiers in the +Civil War. The Richard Watson Gilders were married in 1874. Mrs. Gilder +was Miss Helena de Kay, granddaughter of Joseph Rodman Drake, who was +the author of _The Culprit Fay_. + +I met many interesting people at the Fifteenth Street studio. Helen Hunt +Jackson, I remember well. She was then Mrs. Hunt, long before she had +married Mr. Jackson or had written _Ramona_. She was a most pleasing +personality, just stout enough to be genuinely genial. And Mrs. Frances +Hodgson Burnett I first met there, about the time her _Lass o'Lowrie's_ +appeared, a story we all thought most impressive. George Cable was +discovered by the Gilders, like so many other literary lights, and he +and I used to sing Creole melodies before their big fireplace. His voice +was queer and light, without colour, but correct and well in tune. He +had only one bit of colour in him and that--the poetry of his nature--he +gave freely and exquisitely in his tales of Creole life. At a much later +time I saw something of the old French Quarter of New Orleans of which +he wrote, the whole spirit of which was so lovely. I also first met John +Alexander at the Gilders' after he came back from Paris; and John La +Farge, who brought there with him Okakura, the Japanese art connoisseur. +That was when I first met Okakura; and on the same occasion he was +introduced to Modjeska, she and I being the first stage people he had +ever met socially. + +Later, in '79-'80, I saw a good deal of the Gilders in Paris, where they +had a studio in the Quartier Latin. At that time, Mr. Gilder arranged +for Millet's autobiography which first made him widely known in America; +and in their Paris studio I met Sargent and Bastien Le Page and many +other notables. I recall how becomingly Rodman Gilder--then three or +four years old--was always dressed, in "Little Lord Fauntleroy" fashion +long before the days of his young lordship. It was at this same period +that I went to Fontainebleau to study the Barbizon School and met the +son of Millet, who was trying to paint and never succeeded. + +Speaking of the Gilders reminds me, albeit indirectly, of Helena +Modjeska, whom I first saw in Sacramento, playing _Adrienne Lecouvreur_. +I was simply enchanted and thought I had never seen such delicate and +yet such forcible acting. One reason why I was so greatly impressed was +that I had acquired the foreign standard of acting, and had been much +disturbed when I came home to find such lack of elegance and ease upon +the stage. She had the foreign manner--the grace and, at the same time, +the authority of the great French and German players; and it seemed to +me that she ought to be heard by the big critics. So I wrote home to +Jeannette Gilder in New York an enthusiastic account of this actress who +was being wasted on the Sacramento Valley. The public-spirited efforts +of the Gilders in promoting anything artistic was so well and so long +known that it is almost unnecessary to add that they interested +themselves in the Polish artist and secured for her an opportunity to +play in the East. She came, saw, and conquered; and I shall always feel, +therefore, that I was definitely instrumental in launching Modjeska in +theatrical New York. + +"Didn't I tell you so?" I said to Jeannette Gilder. There was always +something very odd to me about Helena Modjeska. I never liked her +personally half as much as I did as an actress. But she certainly was a +wonderful actress. I once met John McCullough and talked with him about +Modjeska, and he told me that she first acted in Polish to his +English--Ophelia to his Hamlet--out West somewhere, I think it was in +San Francisco. He said that he had been the first to urge her to learn +English, and he was most enthusiastic about the wonderful effect she +created even at that early time. As I had seen her in Sacramento during, +approximately, the same period, I could discuss her with him +sympathetically and intelligently. + +Although I never personally liked Helena Modjeska, I have liked as well +as known many stage folk and have had, first and last, many real friends +among them. It was my good fortune to know the elder Salvini in America. +He happened to be stopping at the same hotel. He looked like a +successful farmer; a very plain man,--very. He told me, among other +interesting things, that no matter how small his part happened to be, he +always played each succeeding act in a stronger colour, maintaining a +steady _crescendo_, so that the last impression of all was the climax. I +remember him in Othello, particularly his delicate and lovely _silent_ +acting. When Desdemona came in and told the court how he had won her, +Salvini only looked at her and spoke but the one word: "Desdemona!"--but +the way he said it "made the tears rise in your heart and gather to your +eyes." + +Irving and Terry, always among my close friends, I first met in London, +at the McHenrys' house in Holland Park. At that time the McHenrys' +Sunday night dinners were an institution. Later, when they came to +America, I saw a great deal of them; and I remember Ellen Terry saying +once, after a luncheon given by me at Delmonico's, "What a splendid +woman Jeannette Gilder is! You know--" and she gave me a rueful +glance--"I am _always_ wrong about men,--but seldom about women!" + +Dear Ellen Terry! She has always been the freshest, the most wholesome, +and the most spontaneous personality on the stage: a sweet and candid +woman, with a sound, warm heart and a great genius. At Lady Macmillan's +a number of people, most of them literary, were discussing that deadly +worthy and respectable actress Madge Robertson--Mrs. Kendall. The morals +of stage people was the subject, and Mrs. Kendall was cited as an +example of propriety. One of the women present spoke up from her corner: + +"Well," said she, "all I can say is that if I were giving a party for +young girls I would steer very clear of Mrs. Kendall and ask Miss Terry +instead. The Kendall lady does nothing but tell objectionable stories +that lead to the glorification of her own purity, but you will never in +a million years hear an indelicate word from the lips of Ellen Terry!" + +The only complaint Henry Irving had to make against New York was that he +"had no one to play with." He insisted, and quite justly, too, that New +York had no leisure class: that cultivated Bohemia, the playground for +people of intellectual tastes and varied interests, did not exist in New +York. He used to say that after the theatre, and after supper, he could +not find anybody at his club who would discuss with him either modern +drama or the old dramatic traditions; or give him any exchange of ideas +or intelligent comradeship. + +[Illustration: =Ellen Terry= + +From a photograph by Sarony] + +He and I had many delightful talks, and I wish now that I had made notes +of the things he told me about stagecraft. He had a great deal to say +about stage lighting, a subject he was for ever studying and about which +he was always experimenting. It was his idea to do away with shadows +upon the stage, and he finally accomplished his effect by lighting the +wings very brilliantly. Until his radical reforms in this direction +the theatres always used to be full of grotesque masses of light and +shade. To-day the art of lighting may be said to have reached +perfection. + +One of the most interesting things about Henry Irving was the way in +which he made use of the smallest trifles that might aid him in getting +his effects. He knew perfectly his own limitations, and was always +seeking to compensate for them. For example, he was utterly lacking in +any musical sense; like Dr. Johnson, he did not even possess an +appreciation of sweet sounds, and did not care to go to either concerts +or operas. But he knew how important music was in the theatre, and he +knew instinctively--with that extraordinary stage-sense of his--what +would appeal to an audience, even if it did not appeal to him. So, if he +went anywhere and heard a melody or sequence of chords that he thought +might fit in somewhere, he had it noted down at once, and collected bits +of music in this way wherever he went. Sometime, he felt, the need for +that particular musical phrase would arrive in some production he was +putting on, and he would be ready with it. That was a wonderful thing +about Irving--he was always prepared. + +Speaking of Irving and his statement about the lack of a cultivated +leisure class in New York, reminds me of the Vanderbilts, who were +shining examples of this very lack, for they were immensely wealthy and +yet did not half understand, at that time, the possibilities of wealth. +William H. Vanderbilt was always my very good friend. His father, +Cornelius, the founder of the family, used to say of him that "Bill +hadn't sense enough to make money himself--he had to have it left to +him!" The old man was wont to add, "Bill's no good anyway!" The +Vanderbilts were plain people in those days, but had the kindest hearts. +"Bill" took a course in practical railroading, filling the position of +conductor on the Hudson River Railroad, from which "job" he had just +been promoted when I first knew him. He did turn out to be some "good" +in spite of his father's pessimistic predictions. + +My mother and I spent many summers at "Clarehurst," my country home at +Cold Spring on the Hudson. The Vanderbilts' railroad, the New York +Central, ran through Cold Spring, so that my Christmas present from +William H. Vanderbilt each year was an annual pass. He began sending it +to me alone, and then included my mother, until it became a regular +institution. We saw something of Mr. and Mrs. Vanderbilt at Saratoga +also, which was then a fashionable resort, before Newport supplanted it +with a higher standard of formality and extravagance. I remember I once +started to ask William H. Vanderbilt's advice about investing some +money. + +"You may know of some good security--" I began. + +"I don't! I don't!" he exclaimed with heat. + +Then he shook his finger at me impressively, saying: + +"Let me tell you something that my father always said, and don't you +ever forget it. He said that 'it takes a smart man to make money, but a +_damned sight smarter one to keep it_!'" + +My place at Cold Spring was where I went to rest between seasons, a +lovely place with the wind off the Hudson River, and gorgeous oak trees +all about. When the acorns dropped on the tin roof of the veranda in the +dead of night they made an alarming noise like tiny ghostly footsteps. + +One day when I was off on an herb-hunting expedition, some highwaymen +tried to stop my carriage, and that was the beginning of troublous times +at Cold Spring. It developed that a band of robbers was operating in our +neighbourhood, with headquarters in a cave on Storm King Mountain, just +opposite us. They made a specialty of robbing trains, and were led by a +small man with such little feet that his footprints were easily enough +traced;--traced, but not easily caught up with! He never was caught, I +believe. But he, or his followers, skulked about our place; and we were +alarmed enough to provide ourselves with pistols. That was when I +learned to shoot, and I used to have shooting parties for target +practice. My father would prowl about after dark, firing off his pistol +whenever he heard a suspicious sound, so that, for a time, what with +acorns and pistols, the nights were somewhat disturbed. + +During the summers I drove all over the country and had great fun +stopping my pony--he was a dear pony, too,--and rambling about picking +flowers. I never passed a spring without stopping to drink from it. I've +always had a passion for woods and brooks; and was the enterprising one +of the family when it came to exploring new roads. Of the beaten track I +can stand only just so much; then my spirit rises in rebellion. I love a +cowpath. + +I used to be an adept, too, at finding flag-root, which was "so good to +put in your handkerchief to take to church"! (We carried our +handkerchiefs in our hands in those days.) Or dill, or fresh fennel, "to +chew through the long service"! Now the dill flavour is called caraway +seed; but it isn't the same, or doesn't seem so. And there was fresh, +sweet, black birch! Could anything be more delicious than the taste of +black birch? The present generation, with its tea-rooms and soda-water +fountains, does not know the refreshment of those delicacies prepared by +Nature herself. I feel sure that John Burroughs appreciates black birch, +being, as he is, one of the survivals of the fittest! + + + + +CHAPTER XXVII + +"THE THREE GRACES" + + +In 1877, I embarked upon a venture that was destined, in spite of much +success, to be one of the most unpleasant experiences of my professional +career. Max Strakosch and Colonel Mapleson, the younger--Henry +Mapleson--organised a Triple-Star Tour all over America, the three being +Marie Roze, Annie Louise Cary, and Clara Louise Kellogg. The press +called us "The Three Graces" and wrote much fulsome nonsense about +"three pure and irreproachable women appearing together upon the +operatic stage, etc." The classification was one I did not care for. +Here, after many intervening years, I enter and put on record my +protest. At the time it all served as advertising to boom the tour and, +as it was most of it arranged for by Mapleson himself, I had to let it +go by in dignified silence. + +Nor was Henry Mapleson any better than he should have been either, in +his personal life or in his business relations, as his wives and I have +reason to know. I say "wives" advisedly, for he had several. Marie Roze +was never really married to him but, as he called her Mrs. Mapleson, she +ought to be counted among the number. At the time of our "Three-Star +Tour," she was playing the _role_ of Mapleson's wife and finding it +somewhat perilous. She was a mild and gentle woman, very sweet-natured +and docile and singularly stupid, frequently incurring her managerial +"husband's" rage by doing things that he thought were impolitic, for he +had always to manage every effect. She seldom complained of his +treatment but nobody could know them without being sorry for her. +Previous to this relation with Mapleson, Marie Roze had married an +exceedingly fine man, a young American singer of distinction, who died +soon after the marriage. She had two sons, one of whom, Raymond Roze, +passed himself off as her nephew for years. I believe he is a musical +director of position and success in London at the present day. Henry +Mapleson did not inherit any of the strong points of his father, Col. J. +M. Mapleson of London, who really did know something about giving opera, +although he had his failings and was difficult to deal with. Henry +Mapleson always disliked me and, over and over again, he put Marie in a +position of seeming antagonism to me; but I never bore malice for she +was innocent enough. She had some spirit tucked away in her temperament +somewhere, only, when we first knew her, she was too intimidated to let +it show. When she was singing _Carmen_ she was the gentlest mannered +gypsy that was ever stabbed by a jealous lover--a handsome Carmen but +too sweet and good for anything. Carlton was the Escamillo and he said +to her quite crossly once at rehearsal, + +"You don't make love to me enough! You don't put enough devil into it!" + +Marie flared up for a second. + +"I can be a devil if I like," she informed him. But, in spite of this +assertion, she never put any devil into anything she did--on the stage +at least. + +[Illustration: =Colonel Henry Mapleson= + +From a photograph by Downey] + +Very few singers ever seem to get really inside Carmen. Some of the +modern ones come closer to her; but in my day there was an unwritten law +against realism in emotion. In most of the old standard _roles_ it was +all right to idealise impulses and to beautify the part generally, but +Carmen is too terribly human to profit by such treatment. She cannot be +glossed over. One can, if one likes, play _Traviata_ from an elegant +point of view, but there is nothing elegant about Merimee's Gypsy. +Neither is there any sentiment. Carmen is purely--or, rather, +impurely--elemental, a complete little animal. I used to love the part, +though. When I was studying the part, I got hold of Prosper Merimee's +novel and read it and considered it until I really understood the girl's +nature which, _en passant_, I may say is more than the critic of _The +New York Tribune_ had done. I doubt if he had ever read Merimee at all, +for he said that my rendering of Carmen was too realistic! The same +column spoke favourably in later years, of Mme. Calve's performance, so +it was undoubtedly a case of _autres temps, autres moeurs_! Carmen +was, of course, too low for me. It was written for a low mezzo, and +parts of it I could not sing without forcing my lower register. The +Habanera went very well by being transposed half a tone higher; but the +card-playing scene was another matter. The La Morte _encore_ lies very +low and I could not raise it. Luckily the orchestra is quite light there +and I could sing reflectively as if I were saying to myself, as I sat on +the bales, "My time is coming!" + +[Illustration: Musical notation: Ri-pe-te-ra: l'av-el!....an-cor! + +au-cor!..La Morte n-cor!] + +In the fortune-telling quartette I arranged with one of the Gypsy +girls--Frasquita, I think it was,--to sing my part and let me sing hers, +which was very high, and thus relieve me. + +A _role_ in which I made my _debut_ while I was with Marie Roze and Gary +was Aida. Mapleson was anxious that Roze should have it, but Strakosch +gave it to me. One of Mapleson's critics wrote severely about my sitting +on a low seat instead of on the steps of the dais during the return of +Rhadames, I remember in this connection. But nothing could prevent Aida +from being a success and it became one of my happiest _roles_. A year or +two later when I sang it in London my success was confirmed. Gary was +Amneris in it and ranked next to the Amneris for whom Verdi wrote it, +although she rather over-acted the part. I have never seen an Amneris +who did not. There is something about the part that goes to the head. +Speaking of my new _roles_ at that period, I must not forget to mention +my mad scene from _Hamlet_; nor my one act of _Lohengrin_ that I added +to my _repertoire_. Lucia had always been one of my successes; and I +believe that one of the points that made my Senta interesting was that I +interpreted her as a girl obsessed with what was almost a monomania. She +was a highly abnormal creature and that was the way I played her. It was +a satisfaction to me that a few people here and there really appreciated +this rather subtle interpretation. In commendation of this +interpretation there appeared an anonymous letter in _The Chicago +Inter-Ocean_, a part of which read: + + "In her rendering of this strange character (Senta) Miss Kellogg + keeps constantly true to the ideal of the great composer, Wagner. + In her acting, as well as in her singing, we see nothing of the + woman; only the abnormal manifestations of the subject of a + monomania. The writer is informed by a physician whose observations + of the insane, extending over many years, enable him to judge of + Miss Kellogg's acting in this character, and he does not hesitate + to say that she delineates truthfully the victim of a mind + diseased. Such a delineation can only be the result of a careful + study of the insane, aided by a wonderful intuitive faculty. The + representation of the mad Ophelia in the last act of _Hamlet_, + given by Miss Kellogg last Saturday, fully confirms the writer in + the belief that no woman since Ristori possesses such power in + rendering the manifestations of the insane." + +[Illustration: =Clara Louise Kellogg as Aida= + +From a photograph by Mora] + +The portion of my tour with Roze and Cary under the management of Max +Strakosch that took me to the far West, was particularly uncomfortable. +Fortunately the financial results compensated in a large measure for the +annoyances. Not only did I have Mapleson's influence and his +determination to push Marie Roze at all costs to contend with, and the +trying actions and personality of Annie Louise Cary, but I also was +subjected to much embarrassment from a manager named Bianchi, with whom, +early in my career, I had partially arranged to go to California. Our +agreement had fallen through because he was unable to raise the sum +promised me; so, when I did go, with Roze and Cary and Strakosch, he was +exceedingly bitter against me. + +Annie Louise Cary was, strictly speaking, a contralto; yet she contrived +to be considered as a mezzo and even had a try at regular soprano +_roles_ like _Mignon_. It is almost superfluous to state that she +disliked me. So far as I was concerned, she would have troubled me very +little indeed if she had been willing to let me alone. I would not know +her socially, but professionally I always treated her with entire +courtesy and would have been satisfied to hold with her the most +amicable relations in the world, as I have with all singers with whom I +have appeared in public. Annie Louise Cary, however, willed it +otherwise. _The Tribune_ once printed a long editorial in which Max +Strakosch was described as pacing up and down the room distractedly, +crying: "Oh, what troubles! For God's sake, don't break up my troupe!" +This was rather exaggerated; but I daresay there was more truth than +fiction in it. Poor Max did have his troubles! + +Max Strakosch was an Austrian by birth and, having lived the greater +part of twenty-five years in this country, considered himself an +American. He began his career with Parodi, somewhere back in the rosy +dawn of our operatic history. Parodi was a great dramatic singer--the +only woman of her day--brought over as the rival of Jenny Lind. Later +Max Strakosch was with Thalberg, after which he was connected with the +importation of various opera troupes having in their lists such singers +as Madame Gazzaniga, Madame Coulsen, Albertini, Stigelli, Brignoli, and +Susini. In all these early enterprises he was associated with his +brother Maurice. He would himself have become a musician, but Maurice +advised differently. So, as he expressed it, he always engaged his +artists "by ear"; that is, he had them sing to him and in that way +judged of their availability. Maurice used to say to him, "If you are +merely a technical musician you can only tell what will please +musicians. If you have general musical culture, and know the public, you +can tell what will please the public." And, as Max sometimes amplified, +"I have discovered this to be correct in many cases. Jarrett, who acted +as the agent of Nilsson and Lucca, is not a practical musician. Neither +is Morelli, who is a great impresario; neither is Mapleson. But they +know what the public want and they furnish it." After he separated from +his brother in operatic management, Max travelled with Gottschalk, with +Carlotta Patti, and first brought Nilsson to America. Capoul, Campanini, +and Maurel all made their appearance on the American operatic stage +under his guidance. + + Do you find your artists difficult to manage? [he was asked by a + San Francisco reporter]. + + In some respects, yes, [was his reply]. They have certain operas + which they wish to sing and they decline to learn others. The + public get tired of these and demand novelty. With Miss Kellogg + there is never this trouble. She knows forty operas and knows them + well. She has a wonderful musical memory. She is a student, and + learns everything new that is published. She has worked her way to + her present high position step by step. She is sure of her + position. She has an independent fortune, but loves her art and her + country. But she is not obliged to confine herself to America. She + has offers from London, Paris, and St. Petersburg, and will + probably visit those places next season. She is just now at the + zenith of her powers. She has learned _Paul and Virginia_, a very + charming opera written for Capoul, and which will be given here for + the first time in the United States. If we give our contemplated + season of opera here she will sing Valentine in _The Huguenots_ for + the first time. + +This same reporter has described Max as follows: + + He can be seen almost at any hour about the Palace Hotel when not + engaged with a myriad of musicians--opera singers long ago stranded + on this coast, young vocalists with voices to be tried, chorus + singers seeking employment, players on instruments wanting to + perform in his orchestra, and people who come on all imaginable + errands--or looking at the objects of curiosity about the city. He + is always in a state of vibration; has a tongue forever in motion + and a body never at rest. He is as demonstrative as a Frenchman. He + talks with all the oscillations, bobs, shrugs, and nervous + twitchings of the most mercurial Parisian. He has a pronounced + foreign accent. When speaking, his voice runs over the entire + gamut, only stopping at _C_ sharp above the lines. In the + dining-room he attracts the attention of guests and waiters by the + eagerness of his manner. When interested in the subject of + conversation, he throws his arms sideways, endangering the lives of + his neighbours with his knife and fork, rises in his seat, makes + extravagant gestures.... His greeting is always cordial, + accompanied by a grasp of the hand like a patent vice or the gentle + nip of a hay-press. + +Mlle. Ilma de Murska, "The Hungarian Nightingale," was with us part of +the time on this tour. She was a well-known Amina in _Sonnambula_ and +appeared in our all-star casts of _Don Giovanni_. She was said to have +had five husbands. I know she had a chalk-white face, a belt of solid +gold, and a menagerie of snakes and lizards that she carried about with +her. This is all I remember with any vividness of Murska. + +It all seems long, long ago; and, I find, it is the ridiculously +unimportant things that stand out most clearly in my memory. For +instance, we gave extra concerts, of course, and one of them lasted so +long, thanks to _encores_ and general enthusiasm, that Strakosch had to +send word to hold the train by which we were leaving. But the audience +wanted more, and yet more, and at last I had to go out on the stage and +say: + +"There's a train waiting for me! If I sing again, I'll miss that train!" + +Then the people laughingly consented to let me go. + +Another funny little episode happened in San Francisco, when I did for +once break down in the middle of a scene. It was--let me see--I think it +must have been in our last season of English opera, instead of in "The +Three Graces" tour, for it occurred in _The Talisman_, but speaking of +California suggests it to me. We carried six Russian singers. They all +joined the Greek Church choir later. One of them was a little man about +five feet high, with a sweet voice, but an extremely nervous +temperament. There was an unimportant _role_ in _The Talisman_ of a +crusading soldier who had to rush on and sing a phrase to the effect +that St. George's boats and horses were approaching from both sides; I +do not recall the words. The only man who could sing the "bit" was our +five-foot Russian friend. He had to wear a large Saracen helmet and +carry a shield six feet high; and his entrance was a running one. I, +playing Lady Edith Plantagenet, looked around to see the poor little +chap come staggering along under the immense shield and to hear a very +shaky and frightened voice gasp: "Sire, St. George's floats and boats, +and flounts and mounts--" I tried to sing "A traitor! A traitor!" but +got only as far as "A trai--" when I was overcome with an impulse of +laughter and the curtain had to be rung down! + +I recall, too, a visit I had from a Chinese woman. I had bought +something from a Chinese shop in San Francisco, and the wife of the +merchant, dressed most ceremoniously and accompanied by four servants, +came to see me and expressed her desire to have me call on her. So a +cousin who was with me and I went, expecting to see a Chinese interior; +but we found the most _banal_ of American furnishings and surroundings. +Afterwards we visited Chinatown and one of the opium dens, where we saw +the whole process of opium smoking by the men there, lying in bunks +along the wall like shelves. It was on this trip, too, when going West, +that, as we reached the Junction in Utah to branch off to Salt Lake +City, we found the tracks were all filled up with the funeral +train--flat decorated cars with seats--left from the funeral of Brigham +Young. + +But the strongest recollection of all--yes, even than the troubles +between Annie Louise Cary and myself--stands out, of that Western tour, +the knowledge of the good friends I won, personally and professionally, +a collective testimonial of which remains with me in the form of a large +gold brooch shaped like a lyre, across which is an enamelled bar of +music from _Faust_ delicately engraved in gold and with diamonds used as +the notes. On the back is inscribed: + +"Farewell from friends who love thee." + +The same year I sang at the triennial festival of the Haendel and Haydn +Society of Boston. Emma Thursby, a high coloratura soprano, was with us. +So were Charles Adams and M. W. Whitney. Gary also sang. It was a very +brilliant musical event for the Boston of those days. It was in Boston, +too, although a little later, that Von Bulow called on me and, speaking +of practising on the piano, showed me his fingers, upon the tips of +every one of which were very tough corns. In further conversation he +remarked, with regard to Wagner, "Ah, he married my widow!" When singing +in Boston one night, during "The Three Graces" tour, at a performance of +_Mignon_, there was noted by one newspaper man who was present the +somewhat curious fact that in singing that Italian opera only one of the +principals sang in his or in her native tongue. Cary was an American, +Roze a Frenchwoman, Tom Karl (Carroll) an Irishman, Verdi (Green) an +American, and myself. The only Italian was Frapoli, the new tenor. + +[Illustration: =Faust Brooch Presented to Clara Louise Kellogg=] + +In 1878, on a Western trip, I remember my making a point, in some place +in Kansas, of singing in an institute on Sunday for the pleasure of the +inmates. We had done this sort of thing frequently before, notably in +Utica. So we went to the prison to sing to the prisoners. I said to the +company, "I am going to sing to give _pleasure_, and not a hymn is to be +in the programme!" When I was told of the desperadoes in the place I was +almost intimidated. The guards were particularly imposing. I played my +own accompaniments and I sang negro melodies. I never had such an +audience, of all my appreciative audiences. Never, I feel sure, have I +given quite so much pleasure as to those lawless prisoners out in +Kansas. + + + + +CHAPTER XXVIII + +ACROSS THE SEAS AGAIN + + +I was glad to be going again to England. My farewell to my native land +was, however, more like an ovation than a farewell. One long table of +the ship's grand saloon was heaped with flowers sent me by friends and +"admirers." The list of my fellow passengers on this occasion was a +distinguished one, including Bishop Littlejohn, Bishop Scarborough, +Bishop Clarkson, and other Episcopal prelates who were going over to +attend the conference in London; the Rev. Dr. John Hall; Maurice Grau, +Max Strakosch, Henry C. Jarrett, John McCullough, Lester Wallack, +General Rathbone of Albany, Colonel Ramsay of the British army, +Frederick W. Vanderbilt, and Joseph Andrede, the Cape of Good Hope +millionaire. I was interviewed by a _Sun_ reporter, on deck, and assured +him that I was going abroad for rest only. + +"No," I said, "I shall not sing a note. How could I, after such a +season--one hundred and fifty nights of constant labour. No; I shall +breathe the sea air, and that of the mountains, and see +Paris--delightful Paris! With such a lovely summer before me, it would +be a little hard to have to work." + +It was like old times to be in England once more. Yet I found many +changes. One of them was in the state of my old friend James McKenzie +who had been in the East Indian trade and had a delightful place in +Scotland adjoining that of the Queen, through which she used to drive +with the incomparable John Brown. I had been invited up there on my +first visit to England, but was not able to accept. When I asked for him +this time I learned that he had been knighted for loaning money to the +Prince of Wales. A girl I knew quite well told me, this year, a touching +little story of a half-fledged romance which had taken place at Sir +James's place in Scotland. The Prince who was known in England as +"Collars and Cuffs" and who died young, was with the McKenzies for the +hunting season and there met my friend,--such a pretty American girl she +was! They fell in love with each other and, though of course nothing +could come of it, they played out their pathetic little drama like any +ordinary young lovers. + +"Come down early to dinner," the Prince would whisper. "I'll have a bit +of heather for you!" + +And when they met in London, later, he took her to Marlborough House and +showed her the royal nurseries and the shelves where his toys were still +kept. The girl nearly broke down when she told me about it. I have +thought of the little story more than once since. + +"He hated to have me courtesy to him," she said. "He used to whisper +quite fiercely: 'don't you courtesy to me when you can avoid it--I can't +bear to have you do it!'" + +My new _role_ in London that season was Aida. For, of course, I was +singing! It went so well that Mapleson (pere) wanted to extend my +engagement. But I was very, very tired and, for some reason--this, +probably,--not in my usual "form," to borrow an Anglicism, so I decided +to go to Paris and rest, meanwhile waiting for something to develop that +I liked well enough to accept. Maurice Strakosch had been my agent in +England, but it seemed to me that his methods were becoming somewhat +antiquated. So I gave him up and decided that I would get along without +any agent at all. I also gave up Colonel Mapleson. Mapleson owed me +money--although, for that matter, he owed everybody. Poor Titjiens sang +for years for nothing. So, when, as soon as I was fairly settled in +Paris, the Colonel sent me earnest and prayerful summons to come back to +London and go on singing _Aida_, I turned a deaf ear and sent back word +that I was too tired. + +My first appearance in London this season was at a Royal Concert at +Buckingham Palace to which, as before, I was "commanded." There were +present many royalties, any number of foreign ambassadors, dukes, +duchesses, marquises, marchionesses, archbishops, earls, countesses, +lords, and viscounts. Her Royal Highness, the Princess of Wales wore, I +remember, a gown of creme satin brocade trimmed with point d'Alencon, +trimmed with pansy-coloured velvet; and her jewels were diamonds, +pearls, and sapphires. Her tiara was of diamonds and she was decorated +with many orders. Said an American press notice: + + Miss Kellogg, it is a pleasure to say, achieved a complete triumph + and received the congratulations of the Prince and Princess of + Wales and of everyone present.... And not a whit behind this was + the great triumph she gained on the evening of June 19th, in her + character of Aida, without doubt the most impressive and ambitious + of her impersonations, and which has won for her in America the + highest praise from musical people and public on account of the + intensity of feeling which she throws into the dramatic action and + music. The London _Times_ critic, who is undoubtedly the best in + London, bestows praise in unequivocal language for the excellence + of Miss Kellogg's interpretation. That Miss Kellogg has been so + successful as a singer will be glad news to her friends, and that + she has been so successful as an American singer will be still + better news to those people who feel keenly for our national + reputation as lovers and promoters of the fine arts. + +In an interview in London Max Strakosch was asked with regard to his +plans for another season: + + "Why do you contemplate giving English opera instead of Italian?" + + "For two reasons," he replied. "The first is that English is very + popular now and the great generality of people in England and + America prefer it. This is especially the case in England. The + second reason is that, although Kellogg is the equal of an Italian + operatic star, fully as fine as Gerster, immeasurably superior to + Hauck, people with set ideas will always have their favourites, and + partisanship is possible; whereas in English opera Kellogg stands + alone, unapproachable, the indisputable queen." + + "What is all this talk I hear about a lot of rich men coming to the + front in New York to support Mapleson's operatic ventures with + their money?" + + "Why, it is all talk; that's just it. That sort of talk has been + talked for years back, but they never do anything. Why didn't these + rich men that want opera in New York give me any money? I stood + ready to bring out any artists they wanted if they would guarantee + me against loss. But they never did anything of the kind, and I + have brought out the leading artists of our times at my own risks. + The only man who's worth anything of all that lot that's talking so + much about opera now in New York is Mr. Bennett. He's got the + _Herald_, and that has influence." + + "What do you think of Americans as an opera-going people?" he was + asked. + + "While we have many music-lovers in America, it is nevertheless a + difficult matter to cater to our public," Max replied. "Here in + England there is such an immense constituency for opera; people who + have solid fortunes, which nothing disturbs, and who want opera and + all other beautiful and luxurious things, and will pay largely for + them. In America hard times may set everybody to economising and, + of course, one of the first things cut off is going to the opera." + + "Was all that gossip about disputes and jealousies between Kellogg + and Gary last season a managerial dodge for notoriety?" + + "Dear me, no. I haven't the slightest idea how all that stuff and + nonsense started. Kellogg and Gary were always good friends. If + Gary wasn't pleased with her treatment last year, why should she + engage with us again? Besides, what rivalry could there possibly be + between a soprano and a contralto? The soprano is the _prima donna_ + incontestably, the star of the troupe." + +In Paris my mother and I took an apartment on the Rue de Chaillot, just +off the Champs Elysees. One of the first things I did in Paris was to +refuse an offer to sing in Budapesth. While in Paris I, of course, did +sing many times, but it was always unprofessionally. I had a wonderful +stay in Paris, and went to everything from horse shows to operas. Those +were the charming days when Mme. Adam had her _salon_. I met there some +of the most gifted and brilliant people of the age. She was the editor +of the _Nouvelle Revue_, and it was through her that I met Coquelin. He +frequently recited at her receptions; and it was a great privilege to +hear his wonderful French and his inimitable intonation in an _intime_ +way. + +The house where I enjoyed visiting more than any other except the +Adams', was that of Theodore Robin, who had married a rich American +widow and had a beautiful home on Parc Monceau. His baritone voice was +a very fine one, and he had studied at first with a view to making a +career for himself; but he was naturally indolent and, having married +money, his indolence never decreased. Valentine Black was another friend +of ours and we spent many an evening at his house listening to Godard +and Widor play their songs. Widor was the organist at Saint Sulpice and +had composed some charming lyric music. Godard was a very small man, +intensely musical. He had the curious gift of being able to copy another +composer's style exactly. Few people know, for instance, that he wrote +all the recitative music for _Carmen_. It is almost incredible that +another brain than Bizet's should have so marvellously caught the spirit +and the mood of that music. + +The Stanley Club gave me a dinner in the following March at which my +mother and I were the only ladies present. Mr. Ryan was the President of +the Club and represented the _New York Herald_. The foreign +correspondents of the _Evening Post_ and the _Boston Advertiser_ were +there, and next to Ryan sat Richard Watson Gilder who was representing +the _Century Magazine_. There were also there several poets and writers, +and more than one painter whose picture hung in the _Salon_ of that +year. No one asked me to sing; but I felt that I wanted to and did so. +After the "Jewel Song" and the "Polonaise," someone asked for "Way Down +on the Suwanee River." I sang it, and was struck by the incongruous +touch of the little negro melody, the brilliant Stanley Club, and all +Paris outside. + +No one can live in the atmosphere of artistic Paris without being +interested in other branches of art besides one's own. That is a +charming trait of French people;--they are not a bit prejudiced when it +comes to recognising forms of genius that are unfamiliar. The stupidest +Parisian painter will weep over Tschaikowsky's _Pathetique Symphony_ or +will wildly applaud one of the rather cumbersome Racine tragedies at the +Theatre Francais. I knew Cabanel quite well (not, I hasten to add, that +he would be apt to cultivate an artistic taste in anybody) and I met +Jules Stewart at the Robins', whose father was the greatest collector of +Fortuneys in the world. I think it was he who took me to the Loan +Exhibition of the Barbizon School of Painting that year. The pictures +were hung beautifully, I remember, so that one could see the stages of +their development. + +It was about the same time that I first heard Josephine de Reszke in +Paris. In any case it was somewhere in the seventies. She was a soprano +with a beautiful voice but not an attractive personality. Her neck was +exceptionally short and set so far down into her shoulders that she just +escaped deformity. She was very much the blonde, northern type, and +still a young woman. I have heard that she did not have to sing for +monetary reasons. A few years later she married a wealthy Polish banker +and left the stage. At the time I first heard her the de Reszke men were +not singing. It was in _Le Roi de Lahore_ that I heard her, with +Lascelle. I never listened to anything more magnificently done than +Lascelle's singing of the big baritone _aria_. Maurel followed him as a +baritone. He was a great artist also, with possibly more intelligence in +his singing than Lascelle. Lascelle relied entirely on his glorious +voice; in consequence he never realised all in his career that might +have been possible. In reality, if you have one great gift, you have to +develop as many other gifts as possible in order to present and to +protect that one properly! A little later I heard Maurel in _Iago_. +(This reminds me of _Othello_ in Munich, when Vogel, the tenor, sang out +of tune and nearly spoiled Maurel's work). What an actor, and what an +intelligence! One felt in Maurel a man who had studied his _roles_ from +the original plots. He played a great part in costuming, but, curiously +enough, he could never play parts of what I call elemental +picturesqueness. His Amonasro in _Aida_ was good, but it was a bit too +clean and tidy. He looked as if he were just out of a Turkish bath, +immaculate, in spite of his uncivilised guise. He could, however, play a +small part as if it were the finest _role_ in the piece; and he had an +inimitable elegance and art, even with a certain primitive romantic +quality lacking. But what days those were--of what marvellous singing +companies! I hear no such vocalism now, in spite of the elaborate and +expensive opera that is put on each year. + +In my mother's diary of this period I find: + + Louise presented to Verdi and we had no idea she would appear in + any newspaper in consequence.... + + She went to hear the damnation of _Faust_ last Sunday and says the + orchestra was _very_ fine. The singing is not so much. She went to + hear _Aida_ last night at the Grau Opera House with Verdi to + conduct and Krauss as Aida. Chorus and orchestra fine artists. + _Well_--she was _disappointed_! Krauss sings so false and has not + as much power as Louise. She came home quite proud of herself. Took + her opera and marked everything. Says her _tempo_ was very nearly + correct; but yet she was disappointed. Krauss changes her dress. + Louise does not.... + + We went to Miss Van Zandt's _debut_. She made a veritable success. + Has a very light tone. The _Theatre Comique_ is small. She is + extremely slender and, if not worked too hard, will develop into a + fine artist. Our box joined Patti's. I sat next to her and we lost + no time in chatting over everything that was interesting to us + both. She told me her whole story. I was very much interested; and + had a most agreeable evening. Was glad I went. + +In a letter written by my mother to my father I find another mention of +my meeting Verdi: + +"Louise was invited to breakfast with Verdi, the composer of _Aida_. She +said he was the most natural, unaffected, and the most amiable man +(musical) she ever met." + + + + +CHAPTER XXIX + +TEACHING AND THE HALF-TALENTED + + +I have gone abroad nearly every summer and it was on one of these trips, +in 1877, that I first met Lilian Nordica. It was at a garden party given +by the Menier Chocolat people at their _usine_ just outside Paris, after +she had returned from making a tour of Europe with Patrick Gilmore's +band. A few years later she and I sang together in Russia; and we have +always been good friends. At the time of the Gilmore tour she was quite +a girl, but she dressed her hair in a fashion that made her look much +older than she really was and that threw into prominence her admirably +determined chin. She always attributed her success in life to that chin. +Before becoming an opera singer she had done about everything else. She +had been a book-keeper, had worked at the sewing machine, and sung in +obscure choirs. The chin enabled her to surmount such drudgery. A young +person with a chin so expressive of determination and perseverance could +not be downed. She told me at that early period that she always kept her +eyes fixed on some goal so high and difficult that it seemed impossible, +and worked toward it steadily, unceasingly, putting aside everything +that stood in the path which led to it. In later years she spoke again +of this, evidently having kept the idea throughout her career. "When I +sang Elsa," she said, "I thought of Brunhilde,--then Isolde,--" My +admiration for Mme. Nordica is deep and abounding. Her breathing and +tone production are about as nearly perfect as anyone's can be, and, if +I wanted any young student to learn by imitation, I could say to her, +"Go and hear Nordica and do as nearly like her as you can!" There are +not many singers, nor have there ever been many, of whom one could say +that. And one of the finest things about this splendid vocalism is that +she has had nearly as much to do with it as had God Almighty in the +first place. When I first knew her she had no dramatic quality above _G_ +sharp. She could reach the upper notes, but tentatively and without +power. She had, in fact, a beautiful mezzo voice; but she could not hope +for leading _roles_ in grand opera until she had perfect control of the +upper notes needed to complete her vocal equipment. She went about it, +moreover, "with so much judition," as an old man I know in the country +says. But it was not until after the Russian engagement that she went to +Sbriglia in Paris and worked with him until she could sing a high _C_ +that thrilled the soul. That _C_ of hers in the Inflammatus in Rossini's +_Stabat Mater_ was something superb. Not many singers can do it as +successfully as Nordica, although they can all accomplish a certain +amount in "manufactured" notes. Fursch-Nadi, also a mezzo, had to +acquire upper notes as a business proposition in order to enlarge her +_repertoire_. She secured the notes and the requisite _roles_; yet her +voice lost greatly in quality. Nordica's never did. She gained all and +lost nothing. Her voice, while increasing in register, never suffered +the least detriment in tone nor _timbre_. + +It was Nordica who first told me of Sbriglia, giving him honest credit +for the help he had been to her. Like all truly big natures she has +always been ready to acknowledge assistance wherever she has received +it. Some people--and among them artists to whom Sbriglia's teaching has +been of incalculable value--maintain a discreet silence on the subject +of their study with him, preferring, no doubt, to have the public think +that they have arrived at vocal perfection by their own incomparable +genius alone. All of my training had been in my native country and I had +always been very proud of the fact that critics and experts on two +continents cited me as a shining example of what American musical +education could do. All the same, when I was in Paris during an off +season, I took advantage of being near the great teacher, Sbriglia, to +consult him. I really did not want him actually to do anything to my +voice as much as I wanted him to tell me there was nothing that needed +doing. At the time I went to him I had been singing for twenty years. +Sbriglia tried my voice carefully and said: + +"Mademoiselle, you have saved your voice by singing far _forward_." + +"That's because I've been worked hard," I told him, "and have had to +place it so in self-defence. Many a night I've been so tired it was like +_pumping_ to sing! Then I would sing 'way, _'way_ in front and, by so +doing, was able to get through." + +"Ah, that's it!" said he. "You've sung against your teeth--the best +thing in the world for the preservation of the voice. You get a _white_, +flat sound that way." + +"Then I don't sing wrong?" I asked, for I knew that the first thing +great vocal masters usually have to do is to tell one how not to sing. + +"Mademoiselle," said Sbriglia, "you breathe by the grace of God! +Breathing is all of singing and I can teach you nothing of either." + +Sbriglia's method was the old Italian method known to teachers as +_diaphragmatic_, of all forms of vocal training the one most productive +of endurance and stability in a voice. I went several times to sing for +him and, on one occasion, met Plancon who had been singing in Marseilles +and, from a defective method, had begun to sing out of tune so badly +that he resolved to come to Paris to see if he could find someone who +might help him to overcome it. He was quite frank in saying that +Sbriglia had "made him." I used to hear him practising in the Maestro's +apartment and would listen from an adjoining room so that, when I met +him, I was able to congratulate him on his improvement in tone +production from day to day. Phrasing and expression are what make so +many great French artists--that, and an inborn sense of the general +effect. French actors and singers never forget to keep themselves +picturesque and harmonious. They may get off the key musically but never +_artistically_. Germans have not a particle of this sense. They are +individualists, egoists, and are forever thinking of themselves and not +of the whole. When I heard Slezak, I said to myself: "If only somebody +would photograph that man and show him for once what he looks like!" + +The worst thing Sbriglia had to contend with was the obtuseness of +people. They did not know when they were doing well or ill, and would +not believe him when he told them. I remember being there one day while +a young Canadian girl was making tones for the master. She had a good +voice and could have made a really fine effect if she could only have +heard herself with her brain. After he had been working with her for a +time, she sang a delightful note properly placed. + +"Good!" exclaimed Sbriglia. + +"That was lovely," I put in. + +"_That?_ I wouldn't sing like that for anything! It sounded like an old +woman's voice!" cried the girl, quite amazed. + +Sbriglia threw up his hands in a frenzy and ordered her out of the +house. So that was an end of her as far as he was concerned. + +Sbriglia really loved to teach. It was a genuine joy to him to put the +finishing touches on a voice; to do those things for it that, +apparently, the Creator had not had time to do. I know one singer who, +when complimented upon his vast improvement, replied without the +slightest intention of impiety: + +"Yes, I am singing well now, thanks to Sbriglia,--and, of course, _le +bon Dieu_!" he added as an after-thought. + +Everyone knows what Sbriglia did for Jean de Reszke, turning him from an +unsuccessful baritone into the foremost tenor of the world. Sbriglia +first met the Polish singer at some Paris party, where de Reszke told +him that he was discouraged, that his career as a baritone had not been +a fortunate one, and that he had about made up his mind to give it all +up and leave the stage. He was a rich man and did not sing for a living +like most professionals. Sbriglia had heard him sing. Said he: + +"M. de Reszke, you are not a baritone." + +"I am coming to that conclusion myself," said Monsieur ruefully. + +"No, you are not a baritone," repeated Sbriglia. "You are a tenor." + +Jean de Reszke laughed. A tenor? He? But it was absurd! + +Nevertheless Sbriglia was calmly assured; and he was the greatest master +of singing in France, if not in the world. After a little conversation, +he convinced M. de Reszke sufficiently, at least, to give the new theory +a chance. + +"You need not pay me anything," said the great teacher to the young man. +"Not one franc will I take from you until I have satisfied you that my +judgment is correct. Study with me for six months only and then I will +leave it to you--and the world!" + +That was the beginning of the course of study which launched Jean de +Reszke upon his extraordinarily prosperous and brilliant career. + +Speaking of Sbriglia leads my thoughts from the study of singing in +general to the struggle of young singers, first, for education, and, +second, for recognition. I would like to impress upon those who think of +trying to make a career or who would like to make one the benefit to be +derived from reading the twenty-third and twenty-fourth chapters of +George Eliot's _Daniel Deronda_, in which she makes clear how much early +environment counts. There must have been some musical atmosphere, even +if not of an advanced or educated kind. Music must be absorbed with the +air one breathes and the food one eats, so as to form part of the blood +and tissue. + +It is sad to see the number of girls with the idea that they are +possessed of great gifts just ready to be developed by a short period of +study, after which they will blossom out into successful singers. +Injudicious friends--absolutely without judgment or musical +discrimination--are responsible for the cruel disillusions that so +frequently follow. I would like to cry out to them to reject the +thought; or only to entertain it when encouraged by those capable by +experience or training of truly judging their gifts. Many and many a +girl comes out of a household where the highest musical knowledge has +been the hand-organ in the street, and believes that she is going to +take the world by storm. She is prepared to save and scrimp and struggle +to go upon the stage when she really should be stopping at home, ironing +the clothes and washing the dishes allotted her by a discriminating and +judicious Providence. Said Klesner to Gwendolen who wants to go on the +stage in _Daniel Deronda_: + + You have exercised your talents--you recite--you sing--from the + drawing-room _Standpunkt_. My dear _Fraeulein_, you must unlearn all + that. You have not yet conceived what excellence is. You must + unlearn your mistaken admirations. You must know what you have to + strive for, and then you must subdue your mind and body to unbroken + discipline. Your _mind_, I say. For you must not be thinking of + celebrity. Put that candle out of your eyes and look only at + excellence. You would, of course, earn nothing. You could get no + engagement for a long while. You would need money for yourself and + your family.... + + A mountebank's child who helps her father to earn shillings when + she is six years old--a child that inherits a singing throat from a + long line of choristers and learns to sing as it learns to + talk--has a likelier beginning. Any great achievement in acting or + in music grows with the growth. Whenever an artist has been able to + say, "I came, I saw, I conquered," it has been at the end of + patient practice. Genius at first is little more than a great + capacity for receiving discipline. Singing and acting, like the + fine dexterity of the juggler with his cups and balls, require a + shaping of the organs toward a finer and finer certainty of + effect. Your muscles--your whole frame--must go like a watch, true, + true, true, to a hair. That is the work of springtime, before + habits have been determined. + +This demonstrates what I cannot emphasise too heartily--the +impossibility of taking people out of their normal environment and +making anything worth while of them. There is a place in the world for +everybody and, if everybody would stay in that place, there would be +less confusion and fewer melancholy misfits. Singing is not merely +vocal. It is spiritual. One must be _in_ music in some way; must hear it +often, or, even, hear it talked about. Merely hearing it talked about +gives one a chance to absorb some musical ideas while one's mental +attitude is being moulded. Studying in classes supplies the musical +atmosphere to a certain extent; and so does hearing other people sing, +or reading biographies of musicians. All these are better than +nothing--much better--and yet they can never take the place of really +musical surroundings in childhood. Being brought up in a household where +famous composers are known, loved, and discussed, where the best music +is played on the piano and where certain critical standards are a part +of the intellectual life of the inmates is a large musical education in +itself. The young student will absorb thus more real musical feeling, +and judgment, and knowledge, than in spending years at a conservatory. + +I have often and often received letters asking for advice and begging me +to hear the voices of girls who have been told they have talent. It is a +heart-breaking business. About one in sixty has had something resembling +a voice and then, ten chances to one, she has not been in a position to +cultivate herself. It is difficult to tell a girl that a woman must +have many things besides a voice to make a success on the stage. It +seems so--well!--so _conceited_--to say to her: + +"My poor child, you must have presence and personality; good teeth and a +knowledge of how to dress; grace of manner, dramatic feeling, high +intelligence, and an aptitude for foreign languages besides a great many +other essentials that are too numerous to mention but that you will +discover fast enough if you try to go ahead without them!" + +An impulsive and warm-hearted friend was visiting me once when I +received a letter from a young woman whom I will call "E. H.," asking +permission to come and sing for me. I read the note in despair and threw +it over to my friend. + +"What are you going to do about it?" she asked, after she had glanced +through it. + +"Nothing. The girl has no talent." + +"How do you know that?" protested my friend. + +"By her letter. It is a crassly ignorant letter. I feel perfectly sure +that she can't sing." + +"You are very unkind!" my friend reproached me. "You ought at least to +hear her. You may be discouraging a genuine genius----" + +"Now see here," I interrupted, "'E. H.' is evidently ignorant and +uneducated. She further admits that she is poor. These facts taken +together make a terrible handicap. She'd have to be a miracle to make +good in spite of them." + +"I will pay her expenses to come here and see you," declared my dear +friend, obstinate in well-doing, like many another mistaken +philanthropist. + +I told her that she might take that responsibility if she liked, but +that I would have nothing to do with raising a girl's false hopes in +any such way. "It's a little hard on her," I said, "to have to borrow +money to take a journey simply to be told that she can't sing. However, +have it your own way and bring her." + +She came. I saw her approaching up the driveway and simply pointed her +out to my misguided friend. Anyone would have known the minute he saw +"E. H." that she could not sing. She slouched and dragged her feet and +was hopelessly ordinary, every inch of her. It was not merely a matter +of plainness, but something far worse. She was quite hopeless. It turned +out, poor soul, that she was a chambermaid in a hotel. People had heard +her singing at her work and had told her that she ought to have her +voice cultivated. It was, as usual, a case of injudicious friends, and, +by the way, the very fact of being carried away by such praise is in +itself a mark of a certain lack of intelligence. This girl had no +temperament, no ear, no equipment, no taste, no advantages in the way of +having heard music. I had to say to her: + +"You have a pretty voice but nothing else, and not a sign of a career. +Dismiss it all, for you must have something more than a few sweet +notes." + +She cried, and I did, too. I hate to be obliged to tell girls such +disagreeable truths. + +Another girl came to me with her mother. She was full of herself and her +mother equally wrapped up in her. She had taken part in small village +affairs in the little Connecticut town where she lived. Her voice was +not bad, but she produced her notes in a wrong manner. Her teacher had +encouraged her and promised her success. But teachers do that, many of +them! I do not know that they can altogether be blamed. + +"You don't breathe right," I said to this Connecticut girl. "You don't +produce your tone right. You've no experience and, of course, you +believe your teacher. But you forget one thing. Your teacher has to live +and you pay him for stimulating you, even if he does so without +justification." + +What I did not go on to say to her, although I longed to, was that she +was not the _build_ of which _prime donne_ are made. A _prima donna_ has +to be compactly, sturdily made, with a strong backbone to support her +hard work and a _lifted_ chest to let the tones out freely. A niece of +Bret Harte's, who appeared for a time in grand opera, drooped her chest +as she exhausted her breath and, when I saw her do it, I said: + +"She sings well; but she won't sing long!" + +She didn't. + +My Connecticut girl was big and sloppy, a long-drawn-out person, such as +is never, never gifted with a big voice. + +There is something else which is very necessary for every girl to +consider in going on the operatic stage. Has she the means for +experimenting, or does she have to earn her living in some way +meanwhile? If the former is the case, it will do no harm for her to play +about with her voice, burn her fingers if need be, and come home to her +mother and father not much the worse for the experience. I sympathise +somewhat with the teachers in not speaking altogether freely in cases +like these. There is no reason why anyone should take from a girl even +one remote chance if _she_ can afford to take it. But poor girls should +be told the truth. So I said to my young Connecticut friend: + +"My dear, you are trying to support yourself and your mother, aren't +you? Very well. Now, suppose you go on and find that you can't--what +will you do then? What are you fitted for? What can you turn your hand +to? What have you acquired? Look how few singers ever arrive and, if you +are not one of the few, will you not merely have entirely unfitted +yourself for the life struggle along other lines?" + +Herewith I say the same to four-fifths of all the girl singers who, in +villages, in shops, in schools, everywhere, are all yearning to be +great. They came to me in shoals in Paris and Milan, begging for just +enough money to get home with. I have shipped many a failure back to +America, and my soul has been sick for their disappointment and +disillusionment. But they will _not_ be guided by advice or warning. +They have got to learn actually and bitterly. Neither are they ever +grateful for discouragement nor yet for encouragement. If you give them +the former, they think you are a selfish pessimist; and if you give them +the latter, they accept it as no more than their due. As I have +previously mentioned, I have known only one grateful girl and she was of +ordinary ability. Emma Abbott, for whom I certainly did a great deal, +was only grateful because she knew it was expected of her by the world +at large. I believe she really thought that all I did was to hasten her +success a little and that she really had not needed my assistance. +Possibly, she had not. But this other girl, to whom I gave a little, +unimportant advice, wrote me afterwards a most appreciative letter, +saying that my advice had been invaluable to her. It was the only word +of genuine gratitude I ever received from a young singer; and I kept her +letter as a curiosity. + +I believe there are, or were, more would-be _prime donne_ in Chicago +than anywhere else on earth. I shall never forget appointing a Thursday +afternoon in the Windy City to hear twelve aspirants to operatic +fame--pretty, fresh, self-conscious, young girls for the most part. +There was one of the number who was particularly pretty and particularly +aggressive. She criticised the others lavishly, but hung back from +singing herself. She talked a great deal about her voice, saying that +she had sung for Theodore Thomas and that he had told her there was no +hall big enough for it! Such colossal conceit prejudiced me in advance +and I must confess I felt a little curiosity to hear this "phenomenal +organ." It proved to be perfectly useless. She had neither power nor +quality nor comprehension. She could, however, make a big noise, as I +told her. On Sunday my friends began coming in to see me, full of an +article that had appeared in one of the papers that morning. Everyone +began with: + +"Good morning, Louise. My dear! Have you seen,"--etc. + +The article, that had quite openly been given the paper by the young +lady whose voice had been so much admired by Theodore Thomas, described +my unkindness to young singers, my jealous objection to praising +aspirants, my discouragement of good voices! + +As a matter of fact, I have always been the friend of young girls, +especially of young singers. So far from wishing to hurt or discourage +them, I have often gone out of my way to help them along. And I believe +that every time I have been obliged to tell a young and eager girl that +there was no professional triumph ahead of her, it has cut me almost, if +not quite, as deeply as it has cut her. For I always feel that I am +maiming, even killing some beautiful thing in discouraging her,--even +when I know it to be necessary and beneficial. + +Another thing that I wish young would-be artists would remember is +that, if it is worth while to sing the music of a song, it is equally +worth while to sing the words, and that you cannot sing the words +really, unless you are singing their meaning. Do I make myself +understood, I wonder? Once a girl with a sweetly pretty voice sang to me +Nevin's _Mighty Lak a Rose_, the little negro song which Madame Nordica +gave so charmingly. When the girl had finished, I said: + +"My dear, have you read those words?" + +She looked at me blankly. I know she thought I was crazy. + +"Because," I proceeded, "if you read the poetry over before you sing +that song again, you'll find that it will help you." + +She had, I presume, "read" the words or she could not have actually +pronounced them; but she had not made the slightest attempt to read the +spirit of the little song. No picture had come to her of a rosy baby +dropping asleep and of a loving mammy crooning over him. She had not +read the _feeling_ of the song, even if she had memorised the syllables. +Girls hate to work. They, even more than boys, want a short cut to +efficiency and success. Labour and effort are cruel words to them. They +want the glamour and the fun all at once. What would they say to the +noble and inspiring example of old E. S. Jaffray, a merchant of sixty, +whom I once knew, who, at that age, decided to learn Italian in order to +read Dante in the original? + +The best way--as I have said before and as I insist on saying--for +anyone to learn to sing is by imitation and assimilation. My friend +Franceschetti, a Roman gentleman, poor but of noble family, has classes +that I always attend when I am in the Eternal City, and wherein the +instruction is most advantageously given. He criticises each student in +the presence of the others and, if the others are listening at all +intelligently, they must profit. But you must listen, and then listen, +and then keep on listening, and finally begin to listen all over again. +You must keep your ear ready, and your mind as well. + +Just as Faure, when he heard the bad baritone, said to himself, "that's +my note! Now how does he do it?" so you must hold yourself ready to +learn from the most humble as well as from the most unlikely sources. +Never forget that Faure learned from the really poor singer what no good +one had been able to teach him. Remember, too, that Patti learned one of +her own flexible effects from listening to Faure himself: and that these +great artists were not too proud to acknowledge it. I never went to hear +Patti, myself, without studying the fine, forward placing of her voice +and coming home immediately and trying to imitate it. + +Yet, after all one's efforts to help, one can only let the young singers +find out for themselves. If we could profit by each other's experience, +there would be no need for the doctrine of reincarnation. But I +wish--oh, how I wish--that I could save some foolish girls from +embarking on the ocean of art as half of them do with neither chart or +compass, nor even a seaworthy boat. + +A better metaphor comes to me in my recollection of a famous lighthouse +that I once visited. The rocks about were strewn with dead +birds--pitiful, little, eager creatures that had broken their wings and +beaten out their lives all night against the great revolving light. So +the lighthouse of success lures the young, ambitious singers. And so +they break their wings against it. + + + + +CHAPTER XXX + +THE WANDERLUST AND WHERE IT LED ME + + +That season of 1879 in Paris was certainly a wonderful one; and yet, +before it was over, I caught that strange fever of unrest that sends +birds migrating and puts the Romany tribes on the move. With me it came +as a result of over-fatigue and ill-health; an instinctive craving for +the medicine of change. The preceding London season had been exacting +and, in Paris, I had not had a moment in which to really rest. Although +the days had been filled most pleasantly and interestingly, they had +been filled to over-flowing, and I was very, very tired. So, in the grip +of the wanderlust, we packed our trunks and went to Aix-les-Bains. We +had not the slightest idea what we would do next. My mother was not very +well, either, and my coloured maid, Eliza, had to be in attendance upon +her a good deal of the time, so that I was forced to consider the detail +of proper chaperonage. We were in a French settlement and I was a _prima +donna_, fair game for gossip and comment. Therefore, I invited a friend +of mine, a charming young Englishwoman, down from Paris to visit me. She +was very curious about America, I remember. She was always asking me +about "the States" and was especially interested in my accounts of the +anti-negro riots. The fact that they had been almost entirely instigated +by the Irish Catholics in New York excited her so that she felt obliged +to go and talk with a priest in Aix about it. It was she, also, who said +something one day that I thought both amusing and significant. + +"My dear," she exclaimed, "tell me what are 'buttered nuts'?" + +"Never heard of them," I replied. + +"Oh, yes, my dear Louise, you must have! They are in all American +books!" + +Of course she meant _butternuts_, as I laughingly explained. A moment +later she observed meditatively, "you know, I never take up an American +novel that I don't read some description of food!" + +I think what she said was quite true. I have remarked it since. Although +I do not consider that we are a greedy nation in practice when it comes +to food, we do love reading and hearing about good things to eat. + +Presently, as my mother felt better and had no real need of me, I +decided to take a little trip, leaving her at Aix with Eliza. Not quite +by myself, of course. I never reached such a degree of emancipation as +that. But I asked my English friend to go with me, and one fine day she +and I set out in search of whatever entertaining thing might come our +way. I had been so held down to routine all my life, my comings and +goings had been so ordered and so sensible, that I deeply desired to do +a bit of real gypsy wandering without the handicap of a travelling +schedule. No travelling is so delightful as this sort. Don Quixote it +was, if I remember rightly, who let his horse wander whithersoever he +pleased, "believing that in this consisted the very being of +adventures." + +We went first to Geneva and so over the Simplon Pass into Italy. We +dreamed among the lakes, reading guide-books to help us decide on our +next stopping-point. So, on and on, until after a while we reached +Vienna. Three hours after my arrival there Alfred Fischoff, the Austrian +impresario, routed me out. + +"Where are you bound for?" he wanted to know. + +"Nowhere. That is just the beauty of it!" + +"Ah!" he commented understandingly. And then he asked, "How would you +like to sing?" + +Even though I was on a pleasure trip the idea allured me, for I always +like to sing. + +"Sing where?" I questioned. + +"Here, in Vienna." + +"I couldn't. I don't sing in German," I objected. + +"You could sing _als Gast_" (as a guest), he said. + +Finally it was so arranged and, I may add, I was the only _prima donna_ +except Nilsson who had ever been permitted to sing in Italian at the +Imperial Opera House, while the other artists sang in German. A letter +from my mother to my father at that time discloses a light upon her +point of view. + +"Louise telegraphed for Eliza and her costumes. I thought at first she +was crazy, but it appears she was sane after all. A fine Vienna +engagement...." + +It was an undertaking to travel in Germany in those days. The German +railway officials spoke nothing but German and, furthermore, they are +never adaptable and quick like the Italians. In France or Italy they +understood you whether you spoke their language or not; but a Teuton has +to have everything translated into his own untranslatable tongue. When +my mother had finally gathered together my costumes, she wrote out a +long document that she had translated into German, concerning all that +Eliza was to do, and where she was to go, and gave it to her so that +she could produce it along the way and be passed on to the next official +without explanation or complication. And after this fashion Eliza and my +costumes reached me safely. She was a good traveller and a good maid. +She was also very popular in that part of the world. Negroes had no +particular stigma attached to them on the Continent. Many of them were +no darker of hue than the Hindu and Mohammedan royalties who journeyed +there occasionally. So, wherever we went, my good, dark-skinned Eliza +was a real belle. + +There was much to interest me in Vienna, not only as a foreign capital +of note, but also as a curiosity. In a long life, and after many and +diverse experiences, I never had been in a city so entirely bound up in +its own interests and traditions. The luckless sinner battering vainly +upon the gates of Heaven has a better fighting chance, all told, than +has the ambitious outsider who aspires to social recognition by the +Viennese aristocracy. If an American is ever heard to say that he or she +has been received by Viennese society, those hearing the speech may +laugh in their sleeve and wonder what society it was. The thing cannot +be done. A handle to one's name, an estate, all the little earmarks of +"nobility" are not only required but insisted on. I believe it to be a +safe statement to make that no one without a title, and a title +recognised by the Austrians as one of distinction, can be received into +the inner circle. Even diplomatic representatives of republics are not +exempt from this ruling. They may have the wealth of the Indies, and +their wives may possess the beauty of Helen herself, and yet they are +not admitted. For this reason Austria is a most difficult post for +republican legations. Republican representatives do not stay there +long. Usually, the report is that they are recalled for diplomatic +reasons, or their health has failed, or some other pride-saving excuse +to satisfy a democratic populace. Vienna was, and I suppose is, the +dullest Court in the whole world. The German Court at one time had the +distinction of being the dullest, but that has looked up a bit during +the reign of the present Kaiser. But Austria! The society of Vienna has +absolutely no interest in anything or anybody outside its own sacred +Inner Circle. + +On one occasion I was guilty of a great breach of etiquette. Meyerbeer's +son-in-law, a Baron of good lineage, was calling on me, and a +correspondent from _The London Daily Telegraph_, whom I had met socially +and not professionally, happened to be present. Although I knew from my +foreign experiences that possibly it was hardly the correct thing to do, +I, not unnaturally, presented them to each other. To my surprise the +Baron became stiff and the young Englishman somewhat ill at ease. I must +say, however, the Englishman carried it off better than the Baron did. +When the Austrian had departed, my newspaper acquaintance told me that I +had committed a social _faux pas_ in making them known to each other. +Introductions are absolutely _taboo_ between titled persons and +"commoners," as they are sternly called. A baron could not meet a +newspaper man! + +As a case in point, an Englishman of very distinguished connections +arrived in Vienna at the time of one of the Court balls. He applied at +his Embassy for an invitation, but was told that such a thing would be +quite impossible. Viennese etiquette was too rigid, etc. Therefore, he +did not go to the ball. But it so chanced that, a little later, when he +went to call on the British Ambassador, he mentioned, casually enough, +that he had a courtesy title but never used it when travelling. + +"Why didn't you say so?" exclaimed the Ambassador. "I could have got you +an invitation quite easily, if you had only explained that!" + +Even the opera was very official and imperial. The Court Theatre was a +government house, and the manager of it an _Intendant_ and a rather +grand person. In my time he was Baron Hoffman; and he and the Baroness +asked me often to their home and placed boxes at the opera at my +disposal, this last courtesy being one that the regular artists at the +opera are never permitted to receive. The Imperial Opera House of Vienna +is perhaps the most complete operatic organisation in existence and +especially, at that time, was the company rich in fine _prime donne_. +Mme. Materna was considered to be the greatest dramatic singer then +living. Mlle. Bianchi was a marvellous _chanteuse legere_, the equal of +Gerster. Mme. Ehn was the most poetical of _prime donne_ and not unlike +Nilsson. Of Lucca's fame it is needless to speak again. + +I sang seven _roles_ in Vienna: _Lucia_, the _Ballo in Maschera_, +_Mignon_, _Traviata_, _Trovatore_, _Marta_, and one act of +_Hamlet_,--the mad scene, of course. It was during _Marta_ that I had +paid to me one of the most satisfying compliments of my life. Dr. +Hanslick was then the greatest musical critic of Europe, a distinguished +and highly cultivated musical scholar, even if he did war against Wagner +and the new school. To the astonishment of the whole theatre, between +the acts, he wandered in by himself behind the scenes to call upon me +and offer his congratulations. Only one other singer had ever been thus +honoured by him before. He was graciousness itself and, in his paper, +the _Neue Frei Presse_, he wrote these memorable words: + +"Miss Kellogg is an artist of the first order--the only one to compare +with Patti. It is the first time since Patti has gone that we have heard +what one can call singing! I congratulate Vienna on having heard such a +colossal artist!" + +Later, I was asked to the Hoffmans' again to meet Herr Hanslick and his +wife; and they were only two of the many distinguished and interesting +people that I met at the _Intendant's_ house. Sonnenthal was one of +them, the great actor from the Hoftheatre. And Fanny Elssler was +another. I wonder how many people to-day know even the name of Fanny +Elssler, the dancer who captivated the young King of Rome and lived with +him for so long? There is mention of her in _L'Aiglon_. When I met her +she was seventy odd, and very quiet and dull. She was vastly respected +in Austria and held an exceedingly dignified position. + +I learned enough German to be able to sing in German for the _Intendant_ +and his friends, with I know not what sort of accent. They were very +polite about it always, saying more than once to me, "what a gentle +accent!" But my German was dealt with less kindly by my audience one +night. The spoken dialogue in _Mignon_ simply had to be made +comprehensible and therefore I had mastered it, as I thought, quite +acceptably enough. But somewhere in it I came what our English friends +call a most awful "cropper." I do not know to this day what dreadful +thing I could have said, but it afforded the house an ecstasy of +amusement. The whole audience laughed loudly and heartily and long; and +I confess I was considerably disconcerted. But, all things considered, +the Viennese audiences were satisfactory to sing to. They have one +little custom, or mannerism, that is decidedly encouraging. When they +like anything very much, they do not break the action by applauding, +but, instead, a little soft "Ah!" goes all over the house. It was an +indescribably comforting sound and spurred a singer on to do her best to +please them. I sang Felina in _Mignon_, and the Viennese, to my eternal +gratitude, liked me in the part. I remembered Jarrett and the "wooden +gestures" he had fixed upon me in the _role_, and it was most +satisfactory to have people in the Austrian Capitol declare that I was +"an exquisite creation after Watteau!" Of course the Germans and +Austrians were so wedded to Materna's rather heroic style of singing +that I suppose any less strenuous methods might well have struck them as +unforceful, but--_a propos_ of Materna and the inevitable comparison of +my work with hers--the _Fremden Blatt_ was kind enough to print: + +"The grand voice, the powerful high tones, and the stupendously +passionate accents were not heard. Yet she knows how to sing with a +full, strong voice, with high tones, and with a graceful +passionateness!" + +That expression "graceful passionateness" has remained in my vocabulary +ever since, for it is a triumph of clumsy phraseology, even for a German +paper. + +I want to quote Dr. Hanslick once more;--it is such a lovely and amazing +thing to quote: + +"From her lips," said this illustrious critic, speaking of your humble +servant, "we have heard Verdi's hardest and harshest melodies come forth +refined and softened." + +Is this believable? Edward Hanslick did really apply the adjectives +"hard" and "harsh" to Verdi's music! It has to be read to be believed, +but what he said is on file. + +Speaking of "gentle accent," I had, on one occasion, the full beauty of +the Teutonic language borne in upon me in a peculiarly striking form. It +was in _Robert der Teufel_, that I heard in Vienna. The instance that +struck me was in the great scene during which he practises magic in the +cave and makes the dead to rise so that they can dance a _ballet_ later +on. Alice is wandering around, and the devil is in a great state of mind +lest she has seen or overheard something of his magic. + +"_Was hast du gesehen?_" says he. + +"_Nichts!_" she replies. + +"_Nichts?_" he repeats. + +"_Nichts_," insists she. + +That "_Nichts!_" was repeated over and over until the whole theatre +echoed and resounded with "nichts-ts-ts-ts!" like spitting cats. There +never was anything less musical. + +"Heavens, Alfred," said I to Fischoff, who was with me at the time, +"can't they change it to '_Nein?_'" + +But he regarded me in a shocked manner at the very idea of so +sacrilegiously altering the text! + +German scores are full of loud ringing passages, built on guttural, +hissing, spitting consonants. But, then, we must remember that +librettists the world over are apparently men of an inferior quality of +intellect who know little about music or singing. I cannot help feeling +that by nature and cultivation the German writers of the texts for opera +suffer from an additional handicap of traditional density. Even one of +the greatest of all operas, _Faust_, suffers from being built upon a +German theme. At least, I should perhaps say, it suffers in sparkle, +vivacity, dramatic glitter. In the deeper, poetic meanings it remains +impervious alike to time, place, and individual view-point. I never +fully appreciated the _role_ of Marguerite until I met the German people +at close range. Then I learned by personal observation why she was so +dull, and limited, and unimaginative. Such traits are, as I suddenly +realised, not only individual; they are racial. Any middle-class girl of +sixteen might of course have been deceived by Faust with the aid of +Mephisto, but that Gretchen was German made the whole thing a hundred +times simpler. + + + + +CHAPTER XXXI + +PETERSBURG + + +When I received my engagement to sing at the Opera in Petersburg I was +much pleased. The opera seasons in Russia had for years been notably +fine. Since then they have, I understand, gone off, and fewer and fewer +stars of the first magnitude go there to sing. In 1880, however, it was +a criterion of artistic excellence and position to have sung in the +Petersburg Opera. My mother and I, a manager to represent me, my +coloured maid Eliza, and some seventeen or eighteen trunks set out from +Vienna; and we looked forward with pleasurable anticipation to our +winter in the mysterious White Kingdom, not knowing then that it was to +be one of the dreariest in our lives. + +Our troubles began just before we reached Warsaw, when we had to cross +the frontier. We were, of course, stopped for the examination of +passports and luggage and, although the former were all right, the +latter was not, according to the views of the Russian officials. I had, +personally, fifteen trunks, containing the costumes for my entire +_repertoire_ and to watch those Russians inspect these trunks was a +veritable study in suspicion. It was late at night. Unpleasant +travelling incidents always happen late at night it would seem, when +everything is most inconvenient and one is most tired. The Russians +appeared ten times more official than the officials of any other nation +ever did, and the lateness of the hour added to this impression. Indeed +they were highly picturesque, with their high boots and the long skirts +of their coats. The lanterns threw queer shadows, and the wind that +swept the platform had in it already the chill of the _steppes_. I have +no idea what they believed me to be smuggling, bombs or anarchistic +literature, but they were not satisfied until they had gone through +every trunk to its uttermost depths. Even then, when they had found +nothing more dangerous than wigs and cloaks and laces, they still seemed +doubtful. The trunks might look all right; but surely there must be +something wrong with a woman who travelled with fifteen personal trunks! +And I do not know that I altogether blame them. At all events they were +not going to let me cross the frontier without further investigation, +and I was rapidly falling into despair when, suddenly, I had a brilliant +thought. I gave an order to my maid, who proceeded to scatter about the +entire contents of one trunk and finally found for me a large, thin, +official-looking document, with seals and signatures attached to it. The +Russians stood about, watchful and mystified. Then I presented my +talisman triumphantly. + +"The Czar!" they exclaimed in awed whispers; "the Czar's signature!" + +Whereupon several of them began bowing, almost genuflecting, to show +their respect for anyone who possessed a paper signed by the Czar. It +was only my contract. The singers at the Russian Opera are not engaged +by an impresario, but by the Czar, and that document which served us so +well on this occasion was a personal contract with His Imperial Majesty +himself. + +So we succeeded in eventually crossing the frontier and getting into +Russia, and, after that, the _espionage_ became a regular thing. The spy +system in Russia is beyond belief. One is watched and tracked and +followed and records are kept of one, and a species of censorship is +maintained of everything that reaches one. At first, one hardly realises +this, for the officials have had so much practice that it is done with +the most consummate skill. Every letter was opened before it reached me +and then sealed up again so cleverly that it was impossible to detect it +except with the keenest and most suspicious eye. Every newspaper that I +received, even those mailed to me by friends in England and France, had +been gone over carefully, and every paragraph referring to Russia--the +army, the government, the diplomacy policy, the Nihilistic +agitations--had been stamped out in solid black. + +We stopped at the Hotel d'Europe, and one might think one would be free +from surveillance there. Not a bit of it. We soon saw that if we wanted +to talk with any freedom or privacy we should have to hang thick towels +over the keyholes. And this is precisely what we did! + +As soon as we reached Petersburg, I was called for a rehearsal--merely a +piano affair. I went to it garmented in a long fur cloak, some +flannel-lined boots that I had once bought in America for a Canadian +trip, and a little bonnet perched, in the awful fashion of the day, on +the very top of my head. It was early in October at this time and not +any colder than our normal winter climate in the United States of +America. There is but little vibration of temperature in Russia, but +there are days before November when the snow melts that are very trying. +This was one of them. The first thing that happened to me at that +rehearsal to which I went in my flannel-lined shoes and my little +bonnet, was that a stern doctor confronted me and called me to account +for the manner in which I was dressed! A doctor at a rehearsal was new +to me; but it seemed that the thoughtful Czar employed two for this +purpose. So many singers pretended to be ill when they really were not +that His Majesty kept medical men on the spot to prove or disprove any +excuses. The doctor who descended upon me was named Thomaschewski. He +was the doctor mentioned in Marie Bashkirtseff's _Journal_; and he +remained my friend and physician all the time I was in the city. Said +he, brusquely, on this first meeting: + +"Never come out dressed like that again! Get some goloshes immediately, +and a hat that comes over your forehead!" + +I did not understand at the moment why he insisted so strongly on the +hat. I soon learned, however, what so few Americans are aware of, that +it is through the forehead that one generally catches cold. As for the +goloshes, it was self-evident that I needed them, and, after that +morning, I never set foot out of doors in Russia without the regular +protection worn by everyone in that climate. A big fur cap, tied on with +a white woollen scarf arranged as we now arrange motor veils, completed +the necessary outfit. + +Marcella Sembrich and Lillian Nordica were both in the opera company +that year. Sembrich had a small, high, clear voice at that time; but she +was always the musician and well up in the Italian vocal tricks. Scalchi +was there, too, and Cotogni, the famous baritone. He was a masterful +singer and an amusing man, with a quaint way of putting things. He is +still living in Rome and has, I am sorry to say, fallen from his great +estate upon hard times. The tenors were Masini and a Russian named +Petrovitch, with whom I sang the _Ballo in Maschera_. They were all very +frankly curious about "the American _prima donna_" and about everything +concerning her. The _Intendant_ of the Imperial Opera was a man with the +title of Baron Kuester, the son of one of the Czar's gardeners. No one +could understand why he had been made a Baron, but, for some reason, he +was in high favour. + +My _debut_ was in _Traviata_, as Violetta. There was an enormous +audience and the American Minister was in a stage box. Throughout the +performance I never lost a sense of isolation and of chill. The +strangeness, the watchfulness, the sense of apprehension with which the +air seemed charged, were all on my nerves. It was said that the +Opera-House had been undermined by the Nihilists and was ready to +explode if the Czar entered. This idea was hardly conducive to ease of +mind or cheerfulness of manner. I was glad that it was not sufficiently +a gala occasion for the Czar to be present. Never before had I ever sung +without having friends in front, friends who could come behind the +scenes between the acts and tell me how I was doing and, if need be, +cheer me up a bit. I knew nobody in the audience that first night, which +gave me a most forlorn feeling, as if the place were filled with +unfriendliness as well as with strangers. At last I thought of the +American Minister, Mr. Foster (our legation in Russia had not yet +attained the dignity of an embassy). I sent my agent to the Fosters' +box, asking them to call upon me in my _loge_ at the end of the opera. +When he delivered the message, he was met by blank astonishment. + +"Of course we should be delighted--and it is very kind of Miss +Kellogg," said Mr. Foster, "but there is not a chance that we should be +allowed to do so!" + +And they were not. + +The vigilance, even on the stage, was something appalling. Every scene +shifter and stage carpenter had a big brass number fastened +conspicuously on his arm, strapped on, in fact, over his flannel shirt +so that he could be easily checked off and kept track of. Everything in +Russia is numbered. There are no individuals there--only units. I used +to feel as if I must have a number myself; as if I, too, must soon be +absorbed into that grim Monster System, and my feeling of helplessness +and oppression steadily increased. + +I had over twenty curtain calls that evening--the largest number I ever +had. But they did not entirely repay me for the heaviness of heart from +which I suffered. Never before or since was I so unhappy during a +performance. The house had been undoubtedly cold at first. As an +American correspondent to one of the newspapers wrote home: "The house +had small confidence in an operatic singer from America, for all history +of that country is silent on the subject of _prime donne_, while there +is no lack of account of such other persons as Indians, Aztecs, and +emigrants from the lower orders of Europe!" + +In Russia they still reserve the right of hissing a singer that they do +not like. It is lucky that I did not know this then, for it would have +made me even more nervous than I was. My curtain calls were a real +triumph. Even the ladies of the audience arose and waved their +handkerchiefs, calling out many times: "Kellogg, _sola_!" They wanted me +to receive the honours alone; and the gentlemen joined in their calls, +"Kellogg! Kellogg! Kellogg!" until they were hoarse. + +The subscribers to the opera were divided into three classes in +Petersburg; and, as a singer who was popular was demanded by all the +subscribers for each of the three nights, it was a novel sensation to +conquer an entirely new audience each night. + +In the Opera-House, as in every other house in Petersburg, one had to go +through innumerable doors, one after the other. This architectural +peculiarity is what makes the buildings so warm. Russians build for the +cold weather as Italians build for warm. The result is that one can be +colder in an Italian house than anywhere else on earth, and more +correspondingly comfortable in a Russian. Even the Petersburg public +Post-Office had to be approached through eight separate doorways. There +were a number of other unusual features about that theatre. One was the +custom of permitting the _isvoshiks_ (drivers) and _mujiks_ (servants) +to come inside to stay while the opera was going on. It struck me as +most inconsistent with the general strictness and red tape; but it was +entertaining to see them stowed away in layers on ledges along the +walls, sleeping peacefully until the people who had engaged them were +ready to go home. Another odd thing was the odour that permeated the +house. It was not an unpleasant odour; it seemed to me a little like +Russia leather. I could not imagine what it was at first. Afterwards I +found that it _did_ come from the sheep-skins worn by the _isvoshiks_. +The skins are cured in some peculiar way which leaves them with this +faint smell. + +The thing I particularly appreciated that first night was the honour and +good fortune of making my _debut_ with Masini, who, according to my +opinion, was without exception the best tenor of his time. He would +have pleased the most exacting of modern critics, for he was the true +_bel canto_. It is told of him that, in the early years of his career, +he sang so badly out of tune that no impresario would bother with him. +So he retired, and worked, until he had not only overcome it but had +also made himself into a very great artist. The night before I sang with +him, I went to hear him. At first I thought his voice a trifle husky, +but, before the evening was over, I did not know if it were husky or +not, he sang so beautifully, his method was so perfect, his +breath-control was so wonderful. It was a naturally enchanting voice +besides. I have never heard a length of breath like his. No phrase ever +troubled him; he had the necessary wind for anything. In _L'Africaine_ +there is a passage in the big tenor solo needing very careful breathing. +Masini did simply what he liked with it, swelling it out roundly and +generously when it seemed as if his breath must be exhausted. When the +breath of other tenors gave out, Masini only just began to draw on his. +I am placing all this emphasis on his method because I know breathing to +be the whole secret of singing--and of living, too! Masini was a grave, +kind man, not a great actor, but with a stage presence of complete +repose and dignity. His manner to me was charmingly thoughtful and +considerate during our work together. Yet he was a man who never spoke. +I mean this literally: I cannot recall the sound of his speaking voice, +although I rehearsed with him for a whole season. His greatest _role_ +was the Duke in _Rigoletto_ and there was no one I ever heard who could +compare with him in it. + +Nordica was a young singer doing minor _roles_ that season and, both +being Americans, we saw a good deal of each other and exchanged +sympathies, for we equally disliked Russia. Our Yankee independence was +being constantly outraged by the Russian spy system, and we were always +at odds with it. One night, when we were not singing ourselves, we had a +box together to hear our fellow-artists, and invited Sir Frederick +Hamilton to share it with us. As we knew there was sure to be a crowd +after the opera, Nordica suggested that we should leave our wraps in an +empty dressing-room behind the scenes and go out by that way when the +performance was over. This we accordingly did, going behind through the +house by the back door of the boxes, and as a matter of course we took +Sir Frederick with us. We had momentarily forgotten that in Russia one +never does what one wants to, or what seems the natural thing to do. +When we were discovered bringing an Englishman behind the scenes, there +was nearly a revolution in that theatre! + +I sang in _Traviata_ four or five times in Petersburg and in _Don +Giovanni_ and in _Semiramide_. This last was the forty-fifth _role_ of +my _repertoire_. The Russian Opera season was less brilliant than usual +that year because the Czarina had recently died and the Court was in +mourning. The situation was one that afforded me some amusement. The +Czar, Alexander, who was killed that same winter, had for a long time +lived with the Princess Dolgoruki, as is well known, and, when the +Czarina died, he married the Dolgoruki within a few weeks. To be sure, +the marriage did not really count, for she could never be a Czarina +because she was not royal, but she was determined to establish her +social position as his wife and insisted on keeping him in the country +with her at one of the out-of-the-way places. And all the time the Czar +went right on with his official mourning for the Czarina! There was +something about this that strongly appealed to my American sense of +humour. When the Czar did finally leave the country palace and come back +to Petersburg, he was in such fear of the Nihilists that he did not dare +come in state, but got off the train at a way-station and drove in. +Fancy the Czar of all the Russias having to sneak into his own city like +that! And the worst of it was that all that vigilance was proved soon +after to have been justified. Because of the situation of affairs, the +Royal Box at the Opera was never occupied. Even the Czarevitch and his +wife (Dagmar of Denmark, sister of Alexandra of England) could not +appear. I am inclined to believe that, on the whole, Petersburg society +was rather glad of the dull season. As there were no Court functions, +the individual social leaders did not have to keep up their end either, +and it must have been a relief, for times were hard, owing to the recent +Nihilistic panic, and Russians do not know how to entertain unless they +can do it magnificently. As a result of the dull social season, I did +not go out much in society. But I was much interested in such glimpses +as I had of it, for "smart" Russia is most gorgeously picturesque. Many +Americans visit Petersburg in summer when everyone is away and so never +see the true Russian life. Indeed, it is a very stunning spectacle. The +sleighs, the splendid liveries, the beautiful horses, the harnesses, the +superb furs--it is all like a pageant. I loved to see the _troikas_ +drawn by three horses, with great gold ornaments on the harnesses; and +the _drozhkis_ in which the _isvoshiks_ drive standing up. The third +horse of the _troika_ is one of the typically Russian features. He is +attached to the pair that does the work, and his part is to play the +fool. + +I remember a famous sleigh ride I had in a very smart _drozhki_, behind +a horse belonging to one of the English Embassy secretaries. The horse +was an extraordinarily fast one and the _drozhki_ was exceptionally +light and small. The seat was so narrow that the secretary and I had to +be literally buttoned into it to keep us from falling out. The +_isvoshik's_ seat was so high that he was practically standing erect and +nearly leaning back against it. Evidently the man's directions were to +show off the horse's gait to the best advantage; and I know that the +speed of that frail sleigh upon the icy snow crust became so terrific +that I had to grip the sash of the _isvoshik_ in front of me to stay in +the sleigh at all. + +And, oh, the flatness and mournfulness of those chill wastes of snow +outside the city! It was of course bitterly cold, but one did not feel +that so much on account of the fine dryness of the air. For me the +light--or, rather, the lack of it,--was the most difficult thing to +become accustomed to. But if I did not altogether realise the cold for +myself, I certainly realised it for my poor horses. I had a splendid +pair of blacks that winter and, when I was driven down to the theatre, +they would be lathered with sweat. When I came out they would be covered +with ice and as white as snow. There would be ice on the harness too, +and the other horses we passed were in the same condition. I was much +distressed at first, but it appeared that Russian horses were quite used +to it and, so I was told, actually throve on it. + +Petersburg is full of little squares and in every square were heaps of +logs, laid one across another like a funeral pyre, which were frequently +lighted as a place for the _isvoshiks_ to warm themselves. The leaping +flames and the men crowded about, in such contrast to the white snow, +seemed so startling and theatrical in the heart of the city that nothing +could have more sharply reminded us that we were in a strange and +unknown land. + +The fact that the days were so unbelievably, gloomily short (dawn and +bright noonday and the afternoon were unknown) grew to be very +depressing. Coasting on the great ice-hills is a favourite Russian +amusement, and it is a fine winter sport. But that, too, is shadowed by +the strange half-light, which, to anyone accustomed to the long, bright +days of more temperate lands, is always conducive to melancholy. There +was no sun to speak of. Such as there was moved around in almost one +place and stopped shining at four in the afternoon. I never had the +least idea of the time; hardly knowing, in fact, whether it was day or +night. + + + + +CHAPTER XXXII + +GOOD-BYE TO RUSSIA--AND THEN? + + +Prince Oldenburg, the Czar's cousin, was the only member of the Royal +Family who could be called a patron of music and had himself composed +more or less. On his seventy-fifth birthday the Imperial Opera organised +a concert in his honour, that took place at the Winter Palace; and we +were really quite _intriguee_, having heard of the Winter Palace for +years. I said to Nordica: + +"If you'll find out how we get there, I'll send my carriage for you and +we will go together." + +She found out, and we arranged to have the hotel people instruct the +coachman as to the particular entrance of the palace to which he was to +drive us, for he was a Russian and did not understand any other +language. Once started, he had to go according to instructions or else +turn around and take me back to the hotel for new directions and a fresh +start. More than once have I found myself in such a dilemma. However, on +this occasion, he seemed to be fairly clear as to our destination and +showed gleams of intelligence when reminded that he must make no +mistake, since there were only certain doors by which we could enter. +The others were open only to the Royal Family and the nobility. + +Among the five _prime donne_ who had been invited, or, rather, +commanded, to appear at this function, there had been some discussion as +to our costumes. All of them except myself sent for special gowns, one +to Paris, one to Vienna, one to Berlin, one to Dresden--for this concert +was to be before members of the Imperial Family and extra preparations +had to be made. + +"What are you going to wear?" Nordica asked me. + +"Well," said I, "I'll never be in Russia again--God permitting--and I +shall wear a gown that I have, a creation of Worth's, made some years +ago, without period or date." It was really a gorgeous affair and quite +good enough, of an odd, warm, rust colour that was always very becoming +to me. + +We arrived at the palace before anyone else and were driven to the door +indicated. There we were not permitted to enter, but were directed to +yet another entrance. Again we met with the same refusal and were sent +on to another door. At last we drove in under a porte-cochere and an +endless stream of lackeys came out and took charge of us. When they had +escorted us inside, one took one golosh, and one took another, and then +they took off our furs and wraps, and there was no escape for us except +by mounting the beautiful red-carpeted marble staircase. At the top of +it we were met by two very good-looking young men in uniform, who +received us cordially and escorted us to the ballroom, leaving us only +when the other artists arrived. The other artists looked cross, I +thought. At any rate, they looked somewhat ill at ease and conscious of +their elegant new clothes. It was the crackling, ample period, in which +it was difficult to be graceful. About the middle of the evening Dr. +Thomaschewski came up to me and said: + +"The Grand Duchess Olga desires me to ask who made Mlle. Kellogg's gown. +She finds it the handsomest she ever saw!" + +So much for my old clothes! I was thankful to be able to say the gown +was a creation of Worth's; and I did not add how many years before! The +next day, after the affair of the concert was pleasantly over, Nordica +came into my room like a whirlwind. + +"There's the d---- to pay down in the theatre!" she exclaimed +breathlessly. "All the other _prime donne_ are threatening to resign! +And, apparently, it is our fault!" + +"What have we done?" + +"It seems," she went on with an appreciative chuckle, "that we came up +the Royal Staircase and were received as members of the Imperial Family, +while they had to come in the back way as befitted poor dogs of +artists!" + +"Nordica," said I, "isn't that just plain American luck! Such a thing +could never happen to anybody but an American!" + +We learned in due course that our handsome young men, who had been so +agreeable and courteous, were Grand Dukes! But the other _prime donne_ +recovered from their mortification and thought better of their project +of resigning. + +We began to be frightfully tired of Russian food. The Russian +arrangement for cold storage was very primitive. They merely froze solid +anything they wanted to keep and unfroze it when it was needed for use. +The staple for every day, and all day, was _gelinotte_, some sort of +game. We lived on it until we were ready to starve rather than ever +taste it again. It was not so bad, really, in its way, if there had not +been so much of it. Some of the Russian food was possible enough, +however. The famous sour milk soup, for instance, made of curdled milk +and cabbage and, I think, a little fish, was rather nice; and they had a +pretty way of serving _bouchers_ between the soup and fish courses. But +my mother and I began to feel that we should die if we did not have some +plain American food. In fact, we both developed a vulgar craving for +corned-beef. And, wonder of wonders! by inquiring at a little shop where +garden tools were sold, we found the thing we longed for. As it turned +out, the shop was kept by an American and his wife; so we got our +corned-beef and my mother made delicious hash of it over our alcohol +lamp. She was famous for getting up all manner of dainty and delicious +food with a minute saucepan and a tiny spirit flame. + +The water everywhere was horrid and we were obliged to boil it always +before we dared to take a swallow. And all these things told on my poor +mother, whose health was becoming very wretched. She came to hate Russia +and pined to get away. So I tried to break my contract and leave +(considering my mother's health a sufficiently valid reason), but, +although money was due me that I was willing to forfeit, I found I could +not go until I had sung out the full term of my engagement. I was so +wrathful at this that I went to see the American Minister about leaving +in spite of everything; but even he was powerless to help us. Apparently +the Russians were accustomed to having their country prove too much for +foreign singers, for the Minister remarked meditatively: + +"Finland used to be open, but so many artists escaped that way that it +is now closed!" + +It proved to be even harder to get out of Russia than it had been to get +in. One mother and daughter whom I knew went to five hotels in +twenty-four hours, trying to evade the officials, so as to leave without +the usual red tape; but they were kept merciless track of everywhere and +their passports sent for at every one of the five. Such proceedings must +be rather expensive for the government. Some Russian friends of mine +once came to Aix without notifying their governmental powers and were +sent for to come back within twenty-four hours. Fancy being kept track +of like that! I am devoutly thankful that I do not live under a +_paternal_ government. In time, however, we did succeed in obtaining +permission to leave Russia; and profoundly glad were we of it. I had but +one desire before we left that dark and frigid land forever, and that +was to see the Czar just once. My friends of the English Embassy told me +that my best chance would be on the route between the Winter Palace and +the Military Riding Academy, where the Czar went every Sunday to +stimulate horsemanship. So I started out the following Sunday, alone, in +my brougham. + +There were crowds of the faithful blocking the way everywhere--well +interspersed with Nihilists, I have little doubt. Russian men are, on +the whole, impressive in appearance; big and fierce and immensely +virile. They are half-savage, anyway. The better class wear coats lined +and trimmed with black or silver fur; while a crowd of soldiers and +peasants make a most picturesque sight. On this occasion the cavalry and +mounted police patrolled the route, and ranks of soldiers were drawn up +on either side. Yet there was such a surging populace that, in spite of +all the military surveillance, there was some confusion. I was driven up +and down very slowly. Then I grew cold and got out of the carriage to +walk for a short distance. I had gone but a little way and was turning +back when I felt a hand on my shoulder. It was an official who informed +me that I might drive but could not be permitted to walk! So I +re-entered the brougham and was driven again, up and down, bowing +sweetly each time to the officer who had halted me and dared to take me +by the shoulder. And, finally, I caught only a glimpse of the Czar, +through the hosts of guardians that surrounded him like a cloud. I could +not believe that he cared for all that pomp and ceremony, for he was a +weary-looking man and I felt sorry for him. I believe that he would have +been as democratic as anyone could well be if he could only have had +half a chance. The wife of the shop-keeper who sold garden tools told me +that the Czar was perfectly accessible to them and very friendly. He +liked new inventions and patents and ingenious farming implements and +American machine inventions. A man I once knew had been trying for +months to obtain an official introduction at Court in order to exploit a +patent which he thought would interest His Majesty, and in vain. But, +when he chanced to meet a friend of the Czar's in a picture gallery and +told him about his idea, he had no further difficulty. His Minister, who +had told him it was hopeless to try to get access to the Czar, was +amazed to find him going about at the Court balls in the most intimate +manner. + +"How did you do it?" he demanded. "How did you manage to reach the +Czar?" + +"Just met him through a friend as I would any other fellow," was the +reply. + +We were in Petersburg at the Christmas and New Year's celebrations, +which are held two weeks later than ours are. The customs were odd and +interesting--notably the one of driving out in a sleigh to "meet the +New Year coming in." This pretty custom was always observed by Mme. +Helena Modjeska and her husband, Count Bozenta, even in America. I went +to services in several of the churches, where I heard divine singing, +unaccompanied by any instrument. The vibrations were very slow and +throbbed like the tones of an organ. Nothing can be more splendid than +bass voices. The decorations of the churches were strange and barbaric +to eyes accustomed to the Italian and French cathedrals. The savagery as +well as the orientalism of the Russians comes out in a curious way in +their ecclesiastical architecture. The walls were often inlaid with +lapis and malachite, like the decorations of some Eastern temple, and +the _ikons_ were painted gaudily upon metals. There were no pews of any +sort; the populace dropped upon its knees and stayed there. + +The little wayside shrines erected over every spot where anything tragic +had ever happened to a royal person are an interesting feature of +worship in Russia. As the rulers of Russia have usually passed rather +calamitous lives, there are plenty of these shrines, and loyal subjects +always kneel and make them reverence. I could see one of these shrines +from my window in the Hotel d'Europe and marvelled at the devout fervour +of the kneeling men in their picturesque cloaks, praying for this or +some other Emperor, with the thermometer far below zero. It was always +the men who prayed. I do not remember ever seeing a woman on her knees +in the snow. + +Our experiences in the shops of Petersburg were sometimes interesting. +Of course in the larger ones French was spoken, and also German, but in +the small places where "notions" were sold, or writing materials, only +Russian was understood. To facilitate the shopping of foreigners, +little pictures of every conceivable thing for sale were hung outside +the shops. All one had to do was to point to the reproduction of a +spool, or a safety pin, or an egg, or a trunk, and produce a pocketbook. +One day my mother wanted some shoe buttons and we wagered that she could +not buy them unaided. I felt sure there would be no painting of a shoe +button on the shop wall. But she came back victoriously with the +buttons, quite proud of herself because she had thought of pointing to +her own boots instead of wasting time hunting among the pictures. + +It was the collection of Colonel Villiers that first awakened in me an +interest in old silver, and the beginning I made in Russia that winter +ended in my possessing a collection of value and beauty. Villiers was a +member of the Duke of Buckingham's family and was a Queen's Messenger, a +position of responsibility and trust. And I had several other friends at +the British Embassy. Lord and Lady Dufferin I knew; and one of the +secretaries, Mr. Alan, now Sir Alan Johnston, who married Miss +Antoinette Pinchot, sister of Gifford Pinchot, I had first met in +Vienna. The night that Villiers arrived in Petersburg (before I had met +him) some of the English _attaches_ had been invited to dine with us; +but the First Secretary arrived at the last moment to explain that the +Queen's Messenger was expected with private letters and that they had to +be received in person and handed in at Court promptly. + +"It's the only way they have of sending really private letters, you +see," he explained. "Alexandra probably wants to tell Dagmar about the +children's last attacks of indigestion, so we have to stay at home to +receive the letters!" + +Well--the glad day did finally come when my mother and I turned our +backs on Russia and its eternal twilight and repaired to Nice for a +little amusement and recuperation after the Petersburg season. A number +of our friends were there, and it was unusually gay. I was warmly +welcomed and congratulated, for Petersburg had put the final _cachet_ +upon my success. Although I might win other honours, I could win none +that the world appraised more highly than those that had come to me that +year. In a letter to my father, from Nice, my mother says: + + The Grand Duke Nicholas has been here in our hotel a month, and his + two sons and suite, doctor, _Aide-de-camp_. and servants. There is + an inside balcony running two sides of the hotel which is lovely: + but the whole is square with other rooms--this width + carpeted--sofa--chairs--table--a glass roof. We all assemble there + after dinner, and sit around and talk, take _cafe_ and tea on + little tables.... We sat every day after dinner close to the Grand + Duke (the Czar's brother) and his suite; knew his doctor and + finally the Duke and his sons. I was sitting on the balcony, + because I could see everybody who came in or who went out, and I + was looking down and saw the Grand Duke receive the despatch of the + assassination--and the commotion and emotion was the most exciting + thing I ever witnessed. The Grand Duke is a most amiable gentleman, + sweet and good as a man can be; his son, sixteen, was the loveliest + and most gentle and affectionate of sons. I looked at the Duke all + the time. I was almost upset myself by the excitement. Despatches + came every twenty minutes. I looked on--sat there _seven hours_. As + the Russians outside heard of it they would come in--I saw two + women cry--the Duke stayed in his room--I heard that he had + fainted--he is in somewhat delicate health.... It seemed as if the + others were looking around for their friends and for sympathy, as + was natural. I had not talked much with the Doctor because I never + felt equal to it in French--especially on ordinary subjects of + conversation--but he looked up and saw me on the balcony and came + directly to me. I took both his hands--the tears came into his + eyes--and we _talked_--the words came to me, enough to show him we + were his friends. I said America would sympathise with Russia. He + seemed pleased and said, "Yes; but Angleterre, no!" I did not have + much to say to that. But I did him good. He told Louise and me the + particulars. We both knew the very spot near the bridge where the + Czar had fallen. Our sympathy was mostly with the man whose brother + had been murdered and his friends. There was a long book downstairs + in which people who came in wrote their names from time to time. I + do not understand it exactly, but Louise says it contains the names + of those who feel an allegiance. Many Russians came in the day of + the assassination and wrote their names. Our Consul wrote his, and + a beautiful sentence of sympathy. He wanted to lower our flag, but + dared not, quite. Louise and I went down and wrote ours--and, while + standing, the Duke's physician said to us that there had not been + one English name signed. The hotel is all English, nearly. It was + an interesting, eventful day. The Duke was pleased when Louise told + him his people had been very kind to her in Russia at Petersburg. + They all left day before yesterday at 6 P.M. + +The assassination of the Czar took place three weeks to the day from +that Sunday when I had seen him. It all came back to me very clearly, of +course--the troops, the crowding people, and the snow. No wonder they +were watchful of him, poor man! + +The bottom dropped out of the season at Nice and people began to flit +away. The tragedy of the Czar's death spread a shadow over everything. +Nobody felt much like merry-making or recreation, and, again, I was +becoming restless--restless in a new way. + +"Mother," I said, "let's go back to America. I have had enough of Nice +and Petersburg and Paris and Vienna and London. I'm tired to death of +foreign countries and foreign ways and foreign audiences and foreign +honours. I want to go home!" + +"Thank God!" said my mother. + + + + +CHAPTER XXXIII + +THE LAST YEARS OF MY PROFESSIONAL CAREER + + +At Villefranche, on our way to Nice, I had been given a formal reception +by the officers of the flagship _Trenton_, that was then lying in the +harbour. Admiral Dahlgren was in command, and the reception was more of +a tribute to the _prima donna_ than a personal tribute. It was arranged +under the auspices of Lieutenant Emory and Lieutenant Clover; and I did +not sing. Emory was a natural social leader and the whole affair was +perfect in detail. A much more interesting reception, however, arranged +by Lieutenant Emory, was the informal one given me by the same hosts not +long after. Although informal, it was conducted on the same lines of +elegance that marked every social function with which Emory was ever +connected. As soon as we appeared on the gun deck, accompanied by +Lieutenant-Commander Gridley, to be presented to Captain Ramsay, the +orchestra greeted us with the familiar strains of _Hail, Columbia!_ At +the end of the _dejeuner_ the whole crew contemplated us from afar as I +conversed with our hosts, and, realising what might be expected of me, I +sang, as soon as the orchestra had adjusted their instruments, the solo +of Violetta from _Traviata_: _Ah force e lui che l'anima_. As an +_encore_ I sang _Down on the Suwanee River_. The orchestra not being +able to accompany me, I accompanied myself on a banjo that happened to +be handy. I was told afterwards that "the one sweet, familiar plantation +melody was better to us than a dozen Italian cavatinas." After the +_Suwanee River_, I sang yet another negro melody, _The Yaller Gal +Dressed in Blue_, which was received with much appreciative laughter. + +On our way from Nice we went to Milan to visit the Exposition, which was +an artistically interesting one, and at which we happened to see the +father and mother of the present King of Italy. From Milan we went to +Aix-les-Bains; and from there to Paris. + +I returned to America without an engagement; but on October 5th the +Kellogg Concert Company, under the management of Messrs. Pond and +Bachert, gave the first concert of a series in Music Hall, Boston. I was +supported by Brignoli, the "silver-voiced tenor," Signer Tagliapietra, +and Miss Alta Pease, contralto. With us, also, were Timothie Adamowski, +the Polish violinist; Liebling, the pianist, and the Weber Quartette. My +reception in America, after nearly two years' absence abroad, was, +really, almost an ovation. But I want to say that Boston has always been +particularly gracious and cordial to me. By way of showing how +appreciative was my reception, I cannot resist giving an extract from +the _Boston Transcript_ of the following morning: + + Her singing of her opening number, Filina's _Polonaise_ in + _Mignon_, showed at once that she had brought back to us unimpaired + both her voice and her exquisite art; that she is now, as formerly, + the wonderfully finished singer with the absolutely beautiful and + true soprano voice. Her stage experience during the past few years, + singing taxing grand soprano parts, so different and more trying to + the vocal physique than the light florid parts, the Aminas, + Zerlinas, and Elviras, she began by singing, seems to have had no + injurious effect upon the quality and trueness of her voice, which + has ever been fine and delicate; just the sort of beautiful voice + which one would fear to expose to much intense dramatic wear and + tear. Its present perfect purity only proves how much may be dared + by a singer who can trust to a thoroughly good method. + +In the following May I sang with Max Strakosch's opera company in +Providence to an exceptionally large audience. One of the daily +newspapers of the city said, in reference to this occasion: + + Miss Kellogg must take it as a compliment to herself personally, + for the other artists were unknown here, and therefore it must have + been her name that attracted so many. She has always been popular + here, and has made many personal as well as professional friends. + She must have added many more of the latter last night, for she + never appeared to better advantage. She was well supported by + Signor Giannini as Faust [we gave _Faust_ and I was Marguerite] and + Signor Mancini as Mephistopheles. + +This same year, 1882, I went on a concert trip through the South. In New +Orleans I had a peep into the wonderful pawnshops, large, spacious, all +filled with beautiful things. I had long been a collector of pewter and +silver and old furniture and, on this trip, took advantage of some of my +opportunities. For instance, I bought the bureau that had belonged to +Barbara Frietchie, and a milk jug and some spoons that had belonged to +Henry Clay. Also, I visited Libby Prison and various other prisons, a +battle-field, and several cemeteries. One cemetery was half filled with +the graves of boys of seventeen, eighteen, and nineteen years of age, +showing that in the Civil War the South could not have kept it up much +longer. The sight was pitiful! + +In 1884 I went on a concert tour with Major Pond in the West, making of +it so far as we could, as Pond said, something of a picnic. We crossed +by the Northern Pacific, seeing, I remember, the ranch of the Duc de +Morney, son of the Duc de Morney who was one of Louis Philippe's +creations, and who had married the daughter of a wealthy ranchman, Baron +von Hoffman. The house of his ancestor in the Champs Elysees and the +house next door that he built for his mistress were points of interest +in Paris when I first went there. In Miles City, on the way to Helena, +Montana, we visited some of the gambling dens, and were interested in +learning that the wildest and worst one in the place was run by a +Harvard graduate. The streets of the town were strangely deserted and +this we did not understand until a woman said to me: + +"Umph! they don't show themselves when respectable people come along!" + +My memory of the trip and of the Yellowstone Park consists of a series +of strangely beautiful and primitive pictures. We passed through a +prairie fire, when the atmosphere was so hot and dense that extra +pressure of steam was put on our locomotive to rush our train through +it. Never before had I seen Indian women carrying their papooses. I +particularly recall one settlement of wigwams on a still, wonderful +evening, the chiefs gorgeous in their blankets, when the fires were +being lighted and the spirals of smoke were ascending straight up into +the clear atmosphere. One day a couple of Indians ran after the train. +They looked very fine as they ran and finally succeeded in getting on +to the rear platform, where they rode for some distance. At Deer Lodge I +sang all of one evening to two fine specimens of Indian manhood. We went +down the Columbia River in a boat, greatly enjoying the impressive +scenery. One of my most vivid mental impressions was that of an Indian +fisherman, standing high out over the rushing waters, at least forty +feet up, on a projection of some kind that had been built for the +purpose of salmon fishing, his graceful, vigorous bronze form clearly +silhouetted against the background of rock and foliage and sky. On the +banks of the river farther along we saw a circus troupe boiling their +supper in a huge caldron and smoking the _kalama_ or peace pipe. I was +so hungry I wanted to eat of the caldron's contents but, on second +thoughts, refrained. And we stopped at Astoria where the canning of +salmon was done, a town built out over the river on piles. The forest +fires had caused some confusion and, for one while, we could hardly +breathe because of the smoke. Indeed we travelled days and days through +that smoke. The first cowboy I ever saw drove me from the station of +Livingston through Yellowstone Park. In Butte City my company went down +into the Clarke Copper Mine, but I did not care to join them in the +undertaking. Our first sight of Puget Sound was very beautiful. And it +was at Puget Sound that I first saw half-, or, rather, quarter-breeds. I +remember Pond saying how quickly the half-breeds die of consumption. + +Later, that same year, I went South again on another concert tour. All +through the State of Mississippi there was a strange, horrible flavour +to the food, I recall, and, so all-pervading was this flavour that +finally I could hardly eat anything. The contralto and I were talking +about it one day on the train and saying how glad we should be to get +away from it. There being no parlour-cars, we were in an ordinary coach, +and a woman who sat in front of me and overheard us, turned around and +said: + +"_I_ know what you mean! _I_ can tell you what it is. It's cotton seed. +Everything tastes of cotton seed in this country. They feed their cows +on it, and their chickens. _Everything_ tastes of it; eggs, butter, +biscuits, milk!" + +This was true. The only thing, it seems, that could not be raised on +cotton seed was fruit; and unfortunately it was not a fruit season when +I was there. + +The recollection of this trip necessitates my saying a little something +of Southern hospitality. I was not satisfied with any of the +arrangements that had been made for me. I had also taken a severe cold, +and, when we reached Charlottesville, where we were to give a concert, I +said I would not go on. This brought matters to a climax. I simply would +not and could not sing in the condition I was; and declared I would not +be subjected to any such treatment at the insistence of the management. +The end of it was that I took my maid and started for New York. + +The trip at first promised to be a very uncomfortable one. Travelling +accommodations were poor; food was difficult to obtain, and I was nearly +ill. At one point, where the opening of a new bridge had just taken +place, we stopped, and I noticed a private car attached to our train, +which I coveted. Imagine my gratitude and pleasure, therefore, when the +porter presently came to me and said courteously that "Colonel Cawyter" +sent his compliments and invited me into his private car. I accepted, of +course. But this was not all. As I was making inquiries about train +connections and facilities for food, of one of the gentlemen in the +car, he realised what was before me, and said that I could go to his +home where his wife would care for me. I protested, but he insisted and +gave me his card. When we reached the station, I took a carriage and +drove to the house, where I was received very courteously. It was a +simple household of a mother, grandmother, and children, and they had +already lunched when I got there. But they piled on more coal, and in a +very short time made me a lunch that was simply delicious--all so +easily, simply, and naturally, in spite of the haphazard fashion in +which they seemed to live, as to quite win my admiration. And this +incident of Southern hospitality enabled me to proceed on my way +nourished and restored. + +Another incident that I recall was of a similar nature in its +fundamental kindness. I had no money with which to pay for my berth, and +was asking the conductor if there was anyone who would cash a check for +me, when a perfect stranger offered me the amount I needed. At first I +refused, but finally consented to accept the loan in the same spirit in +which it had been offered. + +On the reorganised version of this trip we went down into Texas, giving +concerts in Waco, Dallas, Cheyenne, San Antonio, and Galveston, among +other places. This was before the wonderful railroad had been built that +runs for miles through the water; and before the tidal wave that wiped +the old Galveston out of existence. At Cheyenne, I remember, we had to +ford a river to keep our engagement. At Waco a negro was found under the +bed of one of the company; a bridge was burning; and a _posse_ of men, +with bloodhounds, was starting out to track the incendiaries. I remember +speaking there with a negro woman who had a white child in her charge. +The child was busily chewing gum and the woman told me that often the +child would put her hand on her jaw saying, "Oh, I'm _so_ tired!" But +she could not be induced to stop chewing! At Dallas we sang in a hall +that had a tin roof, and, during the concert, a terrific thunderstorm +came on, so that I had to stop singing. This is the only time, I +believe, that the elements ever succeeded in drowning me out. I never +before had seen adobe houses, and I found San Antonio very interesting, +and drove as far as I could along the road of the old Spanish Missions +that maintain the traditions and aspects of the Spanish in the New +World. The Southern theatres are the dirtiest places that can be +imagined; and I recall eating opossum that was served to us with great +pride by my waiter. + +From this time on I did not contemplate any long engagements. I did not +care for them, although I sometimes went to places to sing--and to +collect pewter! + +I never formally retired from public life, but quietly stopped when it +seemed to me the time had come. It was a Kansas City newspaper reporter +who incidentally brought home to me the fact that I was no longer very +young. I had a few grey hairs, and, after an interview granted to this +representative of the press--a woman, by the way--I found, on reading +the interview in print the next day, that my grey hairs had been +mentioned. + +"They'll find that my voice is getting grey next," I said to myself. + +I really wanted to stop before everybody would be saying, "You ought to +have heard her sing ten years ago!" + +[Illustration: =Carl Strakosch= + +From a photograph by H. W. Barnett] + +The last time I saw Patti I said to her: + +"Adelina, have you got through singing?" + +"Oh, I still sing for _mes pauvres_ in London," she replied; but she +didn't explain who were her poor. + +On my last western concert tour I sang at Oshkosh. A special train of +three cars on the Central brought down a large delegation for the +occasion from Fond du Lac, Ripon, Neenah and Menasha, Appleton and other +neighbouring towns. The audience was in the best of humour and a +particularly sympathetic one. At the close of the concert I remarked +that it was one of the finest audiences I ever sang to. And I added, by +way of pleasantry, that, having sung at Oshkosh, I was now indeed ready +to leave the stage! + +But there were even more serious reasons that influenced me in my +decision, one of which was that my mother had for some time past been in +a poor state of health. More than once, when I went to the theatre, I +had the feeling that she might not be alive when I returned home; and +this was a nervous strain to me that, combined with a severe attack of +bronchitis, brought about a physical condition which might have had +seriously lasting results if I had not taken care of myself in time. + +It was not easy to stop. When each autumn came around, it was very +difficult not to go back to the public. I had an empty feeling. There is +no sensation in the world like singing to an audience and knowing that +you have it with you. I would not change my experience for that of any +crowned head. The singer and the actor have, at least, the advantage +over all other artists of a personal recognition of their success; +although, of course, the painter and writer live in their work while the +singer and the actor become only traditions. But such traditions! On +the subject of the actor's traditions Edwin Booth has written: + + In the main, tradition to the actor is as true as that which the + sculptor perceives in Angelo, the painter in Raphael, and the + musician in Beethoven.... Tradition, if it be traced through pure + channels and to the fountainhead, leads one as near to Nature as + can be followed by her servant, Art. Whatever Quinn, Barton Booth, + Garrick, and Cooke gave to stagecraft, or as we now term it, + "business," they received from their predecessors; from Betterton + and perhaps from Shakespeare himself, who, though not distinguished + as an actor, well knew what acting should be; and what they + inherited in this way they bequeathed in turn to their art and we + should not despise it. Kean knew without seeing Cooke, who in turn + knew from Macklin, and so back to Betterton, just what to do and + how to do it. Their great Mother Nature, who reiterates her + teachings and preserves her monotone in motion, form, and sound, + taught them. There must be some similitude in all things that are + True! + +The traditions of singing are not what they used to be, however, for the +new school of opera does not require great finish, although it does +demand greater dramatic art. It used to be that Tetrazzinis could make +successes through coloratura singing alone; but to-day coloratura +singing has no great hold on the public after the novelty has worn off. +But it does very well in combination with heavier music, as in Mozart's +_Magic Flute_ or _The Huguenots_, and so modern singers have to be both +coloraturists and dramaticists. _A propos_ of singing and methods, I +append a newspaper interview that a reporter had with me in Paris, 1887. +He had been shown a new dinner dress of white _moire_ with ivy leaves +woven into the tissue, and writes: + +[Illustration: =Letter from Edwin Booth to Clara Louise Kellogg=] + + I examined the rustling treasure critically and decided it was a + complete success. The train was long, the stuff rich, the taste + perfect, and yet--the great essential was wanting. I could not but + reflect on the transformation which would come over that regal robe + were it once hung on the shapely shoulders of the famous _prima + donna_. + + "You see, there is nothing like singing to fill out dresses where + they should be filled out, and conversely," said Sbriglia, who + happened to be present as we came back into the _salon_; + "consequently my advice to all ladies who wish to improve their + figure is to take vocal lessons." + + "Yes," agreed Miss Kellogg, "if they can only find right + instruction. But, unfortunately good teachers nowadays are rarer + than good voices. Even the famous Paris Conservatory doesn't + contain good vocal instruction. If there be any teaching in the + world which is thoroughly worthless, it is precisely that given in + the Rue Bergere. But I cannot do justice to the subject. Do give us + your ideas, Professor, about the Paris Conservatory and the French + School of voice culture." + + "As to any French vocal school," replied Sbriglia, "there is none. + Each professor has a system of his own that is only less bad than + the system of some rival professor. One man tells you to breathe up + and down and another in and out. One claims that the musical tones + are formed in the head, while another locates them in the throat. + And when these gentlemen receive a fresh, untrained voice, their + first care is to split it up into three distinct parts which they + call registers, and for the arrangement of which they lay down + three distinct sets of rules. + + "As to the Conservatory, it is a national disgrace; and I have no + hesitation in saying that it not only does no good, but is actually + the means of ruining hundreds of fine voices. Look at the results. + It is from the Conservatory that the Grand Opera chooses its French + singers, and the simple fact is that in the entire _personnel_ + there are no great French artists. There are artists from Russia, + Italy, Germany and America, but there are none from France. And + yet the most talented students of the Conservatory make their + _debuts_ there every year with fine voices and brilliant prospects; + but, as a famous critic has well said, 'after singing for three + years under the system which they have been taught, they acquire a + perfect "style" and lose their voice.' + + "You ask me what I consider to be the correct method. I dislike + very much the use of the word 'method,' because it seems to imply + something artificial; whereas in all the vocal processes, there is + only a single logical method and that is the one taught us all by + nature at our birth. Watch a baby crying. How does he breathe? + Simply by pushing the abdomen forward, thus drawing air into the + lungs, to fill the vacuum produced, and then bringing it back + again, which expels the air. And every one breathes that way, + except certain advocates of theoretical nonsense, who have learned + with great difficulty to exactly reverse this operation. Such + singers make a bellows of the chest, instead of the abdomen, and, + as the strain to produce long sounds is evidently greater in + forcing the air out than in simply drawing it in, their inevitable + tendency is to unduly contract the chest and to distend the + abdomen." + + "Let me give you an illustration of the truth of M. Sbriglia's + argument," said Miss Kellogg, rising from her seat. "Now watch me + as I utter a musical note." And immediately the rich voice that has + charmed so many thousands filled the apartment with a clear + "a-a-a-a" as the note grew in volume. + + "You see Miss Kellogg has little to fear from consumption!" + exclaimed Sbriglia. "And I am convinced that invalids with + disorders of the chest would do well to stop taking drugs and study + the art of breathing and singing." + + "And even those who have no voice," said Miss Kellogg, "would by + this means not only improve in health and looks, but would also + learn to read and speak correctly, for the same principles apply to + all the vocal processes. It is astonishing how few people use the + voice properly. For instance I could read in this tone all the + afternoon without fatigue, but if I were to do this" (making a + perceptible change in the position of her head), "I should begin to + cough before finishing a column. Don't you notice the difference? + In the one case the sounds come from here" (touching her chest) + "and are free and musical; but in the other, I seem to speak in my + throat, and soon feel an irritation there which makes me want the + traditional glass of sugar and water." + + "The irritation which accompanies what you call 'speaking in the + throat,'" explained Sbriglia, "is caused by pressing too hard upon + the vocal cords, that become, in consequence, congested with blood, + instead of remaining white as they should be. Persons who have this + habit grow hoarse after very brief vocal exertion, and it is + largely for that reason that American men rarely make fine singers. + On the other hand, look at Salvini, who, by simply knowing how to + place his voice, is able to play a tremendous part like Othello + without the slightest sense of fatigue. + + "About the American 'twang'? Oh, no, it does not injure the voice. + On the contrary, this nasal peculiarity, especially common among + your women, is of positive value in a proper production of certain + tones." + + + + +CODA + + +The Coda in music is, literally, the tail of the composition, the +finishing off of the piece. The influence of Wagner did away with the +Coda: yet, as my place in the history of opera is that of an exponent of +the Italian rather than the German form, I feel that a Coda, or a last +few words of farewell, is admissible. + +In some ways the Italian opera of my day seems banal. Yet Italian opera +is not altogether the thing of the past that it is sometimes supposed to +be. More and more, I believe, is it coming back into public favour as +people experience a renewed realisation that melody is the perfect +thing, in art as in life. I believe that _Mignon_ would draw at the +present time, if a good cast could be found. But it would be difficult +to find a good cast. + +Italian opera did what it was intended to do:--it showed the art of +singing. It was never supposed to be but an accompaniment to the +orchestra as German opera often is; an idea not very gratifying to a +singer, and sometimes not to the public. Yet we can hardly make +comparisons. Personally, I like German opera and many forms of music +beside the Italian very much, even while convinced of the fact that +German critics are not the whole audience. At least, the opera could not +long be preserved on them alone. + +[Illustration: ="Elpstone"= + +New Hartford, Connecticut] + +It seems to me as I look back over the preceding pages that I have put +into them all the irrelevant matter of my life and left out much that +was important. Many of my dearest _roles_ I have forgotten to mention, +and many of my most illustrious acquaintances I have omitted to honour. +But when one has lived a great many years, the past becomes a good deal +like an attic: one goes there to hunt for some particular thing, but the +chances are that one finds anything and everything except what one went +to find. So, out of my attic, I have unearthed ever so many unimportant +heirlooms of the past, leaving others, perhaps more valuable and more +interesting, to be eaten by moths and corrupted by rust for all time. + +There is very little more for me to say. I do not want to write of my +last appearances in public. Even though I did leave the operatic stage +at the height of my success, there is yet something melancholy in the +end of anything. As Richard Hovey says: + + There is a sadness in all things that pass; + We love the moonlight better for the sun, + And the day better when the night is near. + The last look on a place where we have dwelt + Reveals more beauty than we dreamed before, + When it was daily ... + +In our big, young country of America there are the possibilities of many +another singer greater than I have been. I shall be proud and grateful +if the story of my high ambitions, hard work, and kindly treatment +should chance to encourage one of these. For, while it is true that +there is nothing that should be chosen less lightly than an artistic +career, it is also true that, having chosen it, there is nothing too +great to be given up for it. I have no other message to give; no further +lesson to teach. I have lived and sung, and, in these memories, have +tried to tell something of the living and the singing: but when I seek +for a salient and moving word as a last one, I find that I am dumb. Yet +I feel as I used to feel when I sang before a large audience. Somewhere +out in the audience of the world there must be those who are in +instinctive sympathy with me. My thoughts go wandering toward them as, +long ago, my thoughts would wander toward the unknown friends sitting +before me in the theatre and listening. So poignant is this sense within +me that, halting as my message may have been, I feel quite sure that +somehow, here and there, some one will hear it, responsive in the +heart. + + + + +INDEX + + +Abbott, Emma, in _Camille_, 70; + meeting with, 272-275; 320 + +Academy of Music, the, _debut_ of Kellogg at, 33; + stage conditions at, 37; + director of, 40; + winter season at, 91; + benefit at, 92; + return to, 201; 258, 259, 263 + +Adam, Mme., 304 + +Adamowski, Timothie, 358 + +Adams, Charles, 298 + +Adams, Maud, in _Joan of Arc_, 66 + +Aida, 292, 301, 302, 307 + +Albani, Mme., 235 + +Albertini, 294 + +Albites, suggestion of, 102 + +Alboni, Mme., Rovere and, 94; + anecdote of, 175 + +Aldrich, Thomas Bailey, 47, 48 + +Alexander, John, 281 + +Amina, the _role_ of, 64; + the opera of, 65; + Murska as, 296 + +Amodio, 13; + personal appearance of, 14; + in _Don Giovanni_, 74 + +Amonasro, 307 + +Andrede, Joseph, 300 + +Annetta, 91; + contrast between Marguerite and, 93; + Malibran as, 94; + Grisi as, 94; + Kellogg as, 93, 94, 96 + +Anschutz, _Faust_ and, 78 + +Appleton, Tom, 46, 47 + +Arditi, 135, 138, 162-164, 168, 171, 173 + +Armitage, Sir George, 195-198 + +Association, Peace Jubilee, 235 + +Azucena, 249 + + +Babcock, William, 7 + +Bachert, Pond and, 358 + +Balfe, 261, 262 + +_Ballo in Maschera_, 55, 62, 329, 338 + +Banjo, first mention of, 8; + music of, 9; + old man and the, 217, 218; + accompaniment of, 358 + +_Barbiere, Il_, realistic performance of, 38; 56, 91, 97, 167, 277 + +Barbizon School, 306 + +Barlow, Judge Peter, 102 + +Barlow, Mrs. Samuel, 276-279 + +Bateman concerts, 101 + +Beecher, Henry Ward, 214 + +Beethoven, 78; + Jubilee, 209; + Okakura and music of, 219; + reference to, 366 + +Behrens, Siegfried, 263, 264, 267 + +Bellini, 54; + traditions of, 67; + music of, 80 + +Benedict, Sir Jules, 6, 197, 261, 262 + +Bennett, James Gordon, 251, 303 + +Bennett, Mr., 164, 174, 238 + +Bentinck, Mrs. Cavendish, 190 + +Bernhardt, 208 + +_Beware_, Longfellow and, 46; + singing of, 175, 178, 197 + +Bey, Khalil, 156, 157 + +Biachi as Mephistopheles, 86 + +Bianchi, Mlle., 329 + +Bierstadt, Albert, 160 + +Bizet, 305 + +Black, Valentine, 305 + +_Boheme, La_, 91 + +_Bohemian Girl, The_, 257, 259 + +Booth, Edwin, letter from, 16; + on stage traditions, 366 + +Booth, Wilkes, 111 + +Borde, Mme. de la, in _Les Huguenots_, 13; + voice of, 13 + +Borgia, Lucretia, Grisi as, 159 + +Bososio, Mlle., as Prascovia, 102 + +Boucicault, Dion, 15, 262 + +Brignoli, 13, 14; + tour with, 22; + temper of, 22, 23; + origin of, 24; + mascot of, 24, 165; + point of view of, 24; + anecdote of, 25; + death of, 25; + in _I Puritani_, 29; + in opera with, 36; + difficulties with, 41; + in Boston with, 44; + farewell performance for, 64; + Americanisation of, 71; + in _Poliuto_, 72; + Gottschalk and, 107; + mention of, 294, 358 + +Brougham, John, 15 + +Bulow, Von, 298 + +Burnett, Mrs. Frances Hodgson, 281 + +Burroughs, John, reference to, 288 + +Butterfly, Madame, 255 + + +Cabanel, 306 + +Cable, George, 281 + +Callender, May, 276, 277 + +Calve, 81; + as Carmen, 291 + +_Camille_, Matilda Heron in, 15; + public attitude toward, 69; + mention of, 70; + libretto of, 135 + +Campanini, Italo, 236, 237, 261, 295 + +Capoul, 184, 236, 237, 295 + +Carlton, William, 258-261, 265, 268, 275; + Marie Roze and, 290 + +Carmen, 73, 91; + Minnie Hauck as, 102; + Kellogg in, 231, 236; + in English, 254; + Marie Roze as, 290; + the _role_ of, 291; + Calve as, 291; + music of, 305 + +Carvalho, Mme. Miolan-, 77; + wig of, 82, 140; + as Marguerite, 84 + +Cary, Annie Louise, 193; + Kellogg and, 289, 292-294, 298, 304 + +_Castille, The Rose of_, 257 + +Castle, 257, 269, 270 + +Catherine, in _Star of the North_, 102; + jewels for, 104; + incident when singing, 267 + +Chatelet, Theatre, 140 + +Christina, ex-Queen, 143, 144 + +Clarke, James Freeman, 50 + +Clarkson, Bishop, 300 + +Clover, Lieutenant, 357 + +Club, Stanley, 305 + +Colson, Pauline, tour with, 22; + advice of, 26; + example in costuming of, 27; + illness of, 27 + +Combermere, Viscountess, 125; + anecdote of, 128 + +Comedie Francaise, 15 + +Concerts, private, 168; + Buckingham Palace, 179-186, 302; + Benedict's, 197; + tours, 200-203, 208, 227-230; + trials of, 232-234; + in Russia, 346 + +Conklin, Ellen, effect of slavery on, 58, 59 + +Conly, George, 256, 258, 275 + +Connaught, Duke of, 183, 184 + +Contessa, incident in Titjien's _role_ of, 169, 170, 239 + +Cook, W. H., 124 + +Coquelin, 304 + +Costa, Sir Michael, 169, 170, 194, 238, 267 + +Cotogni, 235, 337 + +Coulsen, 294 + +Crinkle, Nym, _see_ Wheeler + +_Crispino e la Comare_, 91, 94; + Cobbler in, 94; + mention of, 97, 249 + +_Curiose, Le Donne_, 91 + +Cushman, Charlotte, attendance at theatre by, 33; + evening in Boston with, 50, 52; + in Rome with, 160; + as Queen Katherine, 270, 271 + +Cusins, 176, 178 + +Custer, 57, 58 + +Czar, the, Ronconi and, 95; + daughter of, 182, 183; + signature of, 335; + physician of, 337; + Nihilists and, 338, 343; + mourning of, 342; + sight of, 350, 351; + assassination of, 354, 355 + + +Dahlgren, Admiral, 183, 357 + +_Dame Blanche, La_, 96 + +D'Angri, 13 + +_Daniel Deronda_, quotation from, 315-316 + +Davidson, 167, 190, 195 + +Davis, Jefferson, at West Point, 19; + son of, 19; + wife of, 20 + +Davis, Will, 256 + +Debussy, 79 + +Deland, Conly as, 258 + +de Reszke, Jean, in _L'Africaine_, 40; + Sbriglia and, 313, 314 + +de Reszke, Josephine, 306 + +_Diavolo, Fra_, 16, 91; + benefit performance of, 92, 93; + fondness for, 97; + scenes from, 159; + Lucca in, 174, 249; + Conly in, 256; + mention of, 261; + Habelmann as, 269 + +Dickens, house of, 241 + +Donizetti, 56; + opera of _Betly_ by, 68; + _Poliuto_ by, 71; + music of, 80 + +Donna Anna, _role_ of, 74, 137; + Titjiens as, 169, 170, 173; + Kellogg as, 249 + +Doria, Clara, 246 + +Douglass, William, 126, 203 + +Duc de Morney, 360 + +Dudley, Lord, 189 + +Dufferin, Lord and Lady, 353 + +Dukas, 79 + +Duse, 208 + +_Dutchman, The Flying_, 257, 258, 263-265 + + +Eames, Mme., 83 + +Edinburgh, Duchess of, 182, 183 + +Edward, Miss, 121, 137 + +Ehn, Mme., 329 + +Elssler, Fanny, 330 + +Elvira, Donna, 137, 170, 173 + +Emerson, 45, 221 + +Emory, Lieutenant, 357 + +_Ernani_, Patti in, 148, 155 + +Errani, 11 + +Eugenie, Empress, 149, 150 + +Evans, Dr., 150 + + +Fabri, Count, 244 + +Falstaff, 91 + +Farragut, Admiral, 157, 158 + +Farrar, Geraldine, as Marguerite, 81, 83, 89 + +Faure, 145, 147, 178, 179, 184, 235, 323 + +_Faust_, first suggestion of Kellogg in, 40; + anecdote about, 46; + public attitude toward, 68; + decision of Maretzek about, 75; + on the Continent, 77; + criticism of 78; + estimate of 79; + early effect on public of, 81, 89; + Alice Neilson in 82; + _Poliuto_ and, 88; + liberties with score of, 88, 89; + Santley in, 132; + French treatment of, 140; + in America, 240; + mention of, 244, 307; + Lucca in, 249, 250; + Carlton in, 260; + Drury Lane and, 132, 135, 137, 162, 174, 189, 261; + Mike and, 266; + Emma Abbott in, 274; + testimonial, 298; + libretto of, 333; + mention of, 359 + +Fechter, Mr., 168 + +Federici as Marguerite, 80 + +Felina, 251-253, 331, 358 + +Ferri, tour with, 22; + as Rigoletto, 33; + blindness of, 33, 41 + +Fidelio, Titjiens as, 169 + +Field, Eugene, 271 + +Field, Mrs. Marshall, 279 + +Fields, James T., home of, 45; + anecdote of, 46; + friends of, 47, 48; + opinion of "copy" of Mrs. Stowe, 49; + hospitality of, 50; + letter to, 89 + +Fioretti, 195 + +Fischoff, 326, 332 + +Flotow, opera of _Martha_ by, 73 + +Flute, playing of, 2; + Lanier and, 51; + Wagner's use of, 52 + +_Flute, The Magic_, 74, 146, 366; + song from _The Star_ in, 173 + +Foley, Walter, 131, 167, 236 + +Foster, Mr., 338, 339 + +Franceschetti, 322 + +Frapoli, 299 + +_Freischuetz, Der_, 254 + +French, art of the, 140 + +Fursch-Nadi, 310 + + +Gaiety, 93, 94; + Italian, 160 + +Gannon, Mary, 15 + +Garden, Covent, 129, 135, 167, 171, 172, 178, 194-196, 235 + +Garden, Mary, artistic spirit of, 40; + English opera and, 255 + +_Gazza Ladra, La_, 166-168, 173 + +Gazzaniga, Mme., 294 + +Gerster, 303, 329 + +Giatano, Nita, 242, 243 + +Gilda, study of the _role_ of, 29; + appearance in, 34, 35, 63; + comparison with Marguerite of, 79; + Kellogg as, 81 + +Gilder, Jeannette, 193, 280, 282; + Ellen Terry and, 283 + +Gilder, Richard Watson, 192, 219, 221; + Mrs., 279, 281; + studio of, 280-282 + +Gilder, Rodman, 281 + +Gilder, William H., 280 + +Gilmore, Patrick, 309 + +_Giovanni, Don_, 62; + under Grau in, 74; + at Her Majesty's, 137, 167, 170, 173, 174, 197, 198; + mention of, 249, 296, 342 + +Godard, 305 + +Goddard, Mr., 190 + +Goethe, 254 + +Goodwin, 168, 197 + +_Goetterdaemmerung, Die_, 91 + +Gottschalk, 106, 107, 295 + +Gounod, new opera by, 75; + as revolutionist, 78, 79; + mention of, 132; + reference to, 133; + in London, 140, 240-244; + Gounod, Madame, 243 + +Grange, Mme. de la, in _Les Huguenots_, 13; + in _Sonnambula_, 38; + in _The Star of the North_, 102 + +Grant, General, in Chicago, 114, 115; + President and Mrs., 266 + +Grau, Maurice, 67; + _Traviata_ and, 69; + in Boston with, 74, 258, 259; + mention of, 300; + Opera House, 307 + +Greeley, Horace, funeral of, 209 + +Greenough, Lillie, 277 + +Gridley, Lieutenant-Commander, 357 + +Grisi, opportunity to hear, 14; + opera costumier and, 85; + as Annetta, 94; + family of, 158; + story of, 159 + +Grove, Sir George, 262 + +Gye, Mr., 129, 135, 171, 172 + + +Habelmann, Theodor, in _Fra Diavolo_, 96, 269, 270 + +Hall, Dr. John, 300 + +Hamilton, Sir Frederick, 342 + +Hamilton, Gail, 50 + +Hamlet, in French, 141; + Nilsson in, 145; + Faure as, 147; + McCullough as, 282; + mad scene in, 292, 329 + +Handel, Festival, 172; + _Messiah_ of, 209; + and Haydn Society, 298 + +Hanslick, Dr., 195; + complimented by, 329-331 + +Harrington, Earl of, 126; + ice-box of, 127; + daughter of, 127; + at the opera, 198 + +Harte, Bret, niece of, 319 + +Hauck, Minnie, as Prascovia, 102, 103; + characterisation of, 103; + mention of, 303 + +Haute, M. De la, 159 + +Hawaii, King of, 266 + +Hawthorne, Julian, 49 + +Hawthorne, Nathaniel, 48 + +_Helene, La Belle_, 254 + +Heron, Matilda, 15 + +Hess, C. D., 256-259; + benefit of Kellogg, 275 + +Heurtly, Mrs., 190 + +Hinckley, Isabella, 41; + in _Il Barbiere_, 56; + in _Betly_, 68 + +Hissing, custom of, in Spain, 145 + +Hoey, Mrs. John, 15 + +Hoffman, Baron, 329, 330 + +Holmes, Oliver Wendell, 46; + breakfasts with, 52; + opinion of English women of, 53 + +Hosmer, Harriet, 160 + +Howe, Julia Ward, 46, 49, 61 + +Huger, General Isaac, son of, 18, 57 + +_Huguenots, Les_, 91, 174, 295, 366 + + +_Iago_, 307 + +Irving, Henry, great strength of, 40; + repose of, 234, 248; + first meeting with, 282; + complaint of, 284; + reforms of, 284, 285 + + +Jackson, Helen Hunt, 281 + +Jaffray, E. S., 322 + +Jarrett, 120, 162, 163; + daughter of, 163, 164, 168, 173, 198; + Colonel Stebbins and, 173; + Gounod and, 241; + mention of, 249, 250, 251, 252, 253, 294, 300, 331 + +Jerome, Leonard, 188 + +Johnston, Sir Alan, 353 + +Jordan, Jules, 206, 207 + +Juliet, saying of Modjeska about, 70; + Patti as, 194, 198; + Romeo and, 240; + Gounod and, 244 + + +Karl, Tom, 298 + +Katherine, Queen, 270, 271 + +Keene, Laura, 15 + +Kellogg, Clara Louise, first appearance of, 6; + description as a child of, 7; + dress of, 8, 25, 26, 39, 40, 70, 84, 85, 135, 136, 137, 210, 265, 347; + Muzio and, 11, 12, 13; + early singers heard by, 13; + histrionic skill of, 15, 16; + resemblance to Rachel of, 16; + _debut_ as Gilda of, 33; + as Marguerite, 40, 75-92; + hospitalities toward, 44, 45, 93, 100, 101, 278, 279, 362, 363; + wig of, 82-84; + in Opera Comique, 91-98; + jewelry of, 93, 104, 105, 298; + as Flower Prima Donna, 103, 202; + Lucca and, 245-252; + in English Opera, 254-270; + favourite flower of; 266; + in "Three Graces" Tour, 289-304 + +Kellogg, George, flute of, 2; + failure of, 9; + Irish servants and, 61; + in New Hartford with, 67; + story of, 231 + +Keppel, Colonel, 133 + +Korbay, Francis, 219 + +Krauss, 307 + +Kuester, Baron, 338 + + +La Farge, John, 219, 221, 280 + +_L'Africaine_, de Reszke in, 40; + Lucca in, 249; + Masini in, 341 + +Lang, 190, 198 + +Lanier, Sidney, 50; + anecdote of, 51 + +Lascelle, 306 + +Lawrence, Alberto, 258 + +_Lecouvreur, Adrienne_, 282 + +Leonora, Marie Willt as, 152; + Lucca as, 179; + Morgan and, 269 + +Le Page, Bastien, 281 + +Leporello, Rockitanski as, 170 + +_Le Roi de Lahore_, 306 + +Librettos, inartistic, 255; + Emma Abbott and, 274; + texts of, 332 + +Liebling, 358 + +_Lily o'Killarney_, 261, 262 + +Lincoln, Abraham, call for volunteers by, 54; + anecdote of, 110; + death of, 111; + lying-in-state of, 112-114, 118 + +Lind, Jenny, 5, 6, 294 + +Linda di Chamounix, first public appearance of Kellogg in, 25; + Boston's attitude toward, 36; + origin of, 36; + story of, 36, 37; + costuming of, 38, 39; + Susini, in, 42; + Mme. Medori as, 42; + Kellogg in Boston as, 43, 50, 54, 62; + teaching of, 63; + comparison with Marguerite of, 79; + _Clara Louise Polka_ and, 88; + Patti in, 129; + mention of, 132, 249; + at Her Majesty's, 135, 167, 236, 238 + +Liszt, saying of, 234 + +Littlejohn, Bishop, 300 + +_Lohengrin_, 292 + +Longfellow, 46, 47; + poems of, 46, 47; + anecdote of, 47; + letter by, 89; + reference to, 221 + +Lorenzo, Conly as, 256 + +Loveday, Mme., 261 + +Lowell, 46, 47 + +Lucca, Pauline, Piccolomini's resemblance to, 14; + travelling of, 28; + as Marguerite, 82; + in _Fra Diavolo_, 174; + at rehearsal, 178, 179; + at Buckingham Palace, 184, 185; + at Covent Garden, 196, 235; + in America, 240; + Kellogg and, 245-250; + as Mignon, 251; + mention of, 294, 329 + +Lucia, Patti in, 15, 62; + comparison with Linda of, 73; + standing of, 73; + Kellogg in Chicago as, 113, 237; + _role_ of, 292; + Kellogg as, 329 + + +Maas, Joseph, 256-258, 261 + +Macci, Victor, opera by, 68 + +Macmillan, Lady, 284 + +Maddox, 194, 195, 246, 247 + +Maeterlinck, Mme., saying of, 103 + +Malibran, 94 + +Manchester, Consuelo, Duchess of, 184 + +Mancini, 359 + +Mansfield, Richard, mother of, 165 + +Manzocchi, 11 + +Mapleson, Col. J. M., 120, 139, 162, 166, 168, 170, 171, 173, 174, 198, + 200, 235, 236, 241, 301, 302 + +Mapleson, Henry, 289, 290, 292-294, 303 + +Maretzek, Max, at the Academy, 40; + during the war, 55; + decision with regard to _Faust_ of, 75, 77, 78; + Colonel Stebbins and, 85; + Mazzoleni and, 86; + _Faust_ and, 87, 88; + benefit custom and, 91, 92, 119; + in Philadelphia with, 201; + saying of, 215; + management of, 240 + +Marguerite, interpretation of, 42; + estimate of, 80-84, 333; + Nilsson as, 82, 129; + costume +of, 84, 85; + Patti as, in France, 140, 141; + reference to, 243, 263; + Lucca as, 249, 250; + Kellogg as, 359 + +_Maria de Rohan_, Rovere in, 95 + +Mario, Grisi and, 14; + mention of, 147, 167, 185, 195, 196 + +Martha, 62, 73, 74; + comparison with Marguerite of, 79; + _Faust_ and, 88; + as Opera Comique, 91; + at Her Majesty's, 135; + Nilsson as, 145; + Kellogg as, 249, 261, 329 + +Martin, Mrs., 202-207 + +Masaniello, 96 + +Masini, 338, 340, 341 + +Materna, Mme., 329, 331 + +Matthews, Brander, wife of, 69; + reception by father of, 100, 101 + +Maurel, 141, 295, 306, 307 + +Mazzoleni as Faust, 86, 87 + +McCook, Alec, 18, 57 + +McCreary, Lieutenant, 18, 57 + +McCullough, John, 282, 300 + +McHenry, 143, 145, 148, 158, 167, 190, 197, 198 + +McKenzie, Sir Edward, 190, 300, 301 + +McVickar, Commodore, 121, 126 + +Medori, Mme., as Linda, 42; + in Don Giovanni, 74 + +_Meister, Wilhelm_, 251, 252 + +_Meistersinger, Die_, 91 + +Melodies, negro, 1, 9, 117, 146, 305, 357 + +Menier, Chocolat, 243, 309 + +Meyerbeer, 90; + craze for, 101; + a song of, 102; + son-in-law of, 328 + +Mignon, effect on audience of, 59; + Polonaise from, 183, 229, 305, 358; + Lucca and Kellogg in, 251; + in English, 257, 260; + Cary as, 293; + cast of, 298; + Kellogg as, 329, 330, 331; + reference to, 370 + +Mike, 266 + +Millet, 11; + son of, 282 + +Mind, sub-conscious, 13; + workings of the, 35, 169, 216 + +Minstrels, negro, 8 + +Mireille, 240, 243 + +Mistral, 240 + +Modjeska, Helena, in _Adrienne_ +_Lecouvreur_, 59; + in Camille 69; + saying of, 70; + Okakura and, 281; + Kellogg and, 282, 283; + custom of, 352 + +Moncrieff, Mrs., 243 + +Morelli, 294 + +Morgan, Wilfred, 258, 259, 269 + +Mother, first mention of, 2, 3, 4; + attitude toward theatre of, 30, 31; + presence at performance of Gilda of, 35; + in Boston with, 44, 52; + in New Hartford with, 67; + _Faust_ and, 81; + character of, 108; + anecdote of, 128; + in England, 137; + in Paris, 139, 143; + diary of, 154-157, 163, 164, 166-168, 173, 174, 178, 197, 198, 308, 326; + mention of, 186, 188, 190, 194, 195, 200, 252, 259, 286, 304, 307, 334; + Eugene Field and, 271; + in Russia, 349, 352-356; + health of, 365 + +Moulton, melody of _Beware_ by, 175 + +Moulton, Mrs., 277 + +Mowbray, J. P., _see_ Wheeler + +Mozart, operas of, 74; + English and, 136; + _arias_ of, 146; + with Titjiens in operas of, 169; + all-star casts of, 170; + music of, 366 + +Munkacsy, 219 + +Murska, Mlle., Ilma de, 296 + +Muzio, 11; + appearance of, 12; + opinion of, 17; + concert tour of Kellogg with, 22; + Italian traditions and, 66; + concert tour under, 72; + polka by, 88 + + +Napoleon III, 148, 149 + +Negroes, treatment of, 58; + in New York during the war, 60; + discussions regarding the, 60; + anti-negro riots, 323 + +Neilson, Adelaide, 247 + +Neilson, Alice, in _Faust_, 82 + +Nevin, 322 + +Newcastle, Duchess of, 184, 188, 197 + +Newcastle, Duke of, 100, 125; + in box of, 146, 167, 168, 173, 174, 188, 189, 191, 192; + pin of the, 193, 194, 197, 198, 235 + +Newson, 6, 7 + +Nicolini, 130, 148, 184, 185 + +Night, Queen of the, Nilsson as, 146 + +Nilsson, Christine, as Marguerite, 82; + in London, 129, 131, 132, 137, 169, 173, 235; + as Martha, 145; + voice of, 146, 147; + superstition of, 165, 166; + in opera with, 169; + Sir Michael Costa and, 170; + at Buckingham Palace, 184; + friend of, 190; + reference to, 196, 239, 252, 261, 294, 295, 326, 329 + +_Noces de Jeannette, Les_, 29, 62; + libretto of, 68 + +Nordica, Lillian, 309, 310; + Nevin's song and, 322; + in Russia with, 337, 341, 347, 348 + +Norma, Grisi as, 158; + reference to, 252 + +_Nozze di Figaro, Le_, 170, 171, 174, 197, 198, 249, 261 + + +_Oh, had I Jubal's Lyre!_ 172 + +Okakura, 219-222, 281 + +Oldenburg, Prince, 346 + +Olin, Mrs. Stephen Henry, 276, 277 + +_Opera, The Beggar's_, 258 + +Opera bouffe, 90 + +Opera comique, 90, 91, 97; + of Paris, 236 + +Opera, traditions of, 12, 77, 79, 263, 277; + necessities of, 34; + effect of war on, 55, 56; + houses in America for, 68; + early customs of, 84; + innovations of, 87; + benefit custom of, 91; + Her Majesty's, 120, 129, 136, 171, 178, 235; + French, 140, 141; + English, 254-258, 260-303; + translations of, 255, 256, 260, 261; + Strakosch and, 303; + Imperial, 326; + in Petersburg, 334-342; + preparation for, 367; + province of Italian, 370 + +Ophelia, Modjeska as, 282; + Kellogg as, 293 + +Othello, Salvini as, 283; + in Munich 307 + +Oudin, Eugene, 277 + +Oxenford, 262 + + +Palace, Buckingham, 176-179; + concerts at, 179-186, 302 + +Palace, Crystal, 172, 174, 209 + +Palmer, Anna, 11 + +Paloma, La, 249 + +Parker, Minnie, 276, 277 + +Parodi, 294 + +_Pasquale, Don_, 96 + +Patey, Mme., 174 + +Patti, Adelina, 5; + early appearance of, 15; + as Marguerite, 82; + voice of, 129, 130, 132, 323; + in London 77, 129, 132, 135, 184, 185, 195-198, 235; + sister of, 129; + in Paris with, 308; + comparison with, 330; + questioning of, 365 + +Patti, Carlotta, 295 + +_Paul and Virginia_, 295 + +Peakes, 257 + +Pease, Miss Alta, 358 + +Pergolese, opera of _La Serva Padrona_ by, 14 + +Peto, Sir Morton, banquet of, 99 + +Petrelli, 272 + +Petrovitch, 338 + +Phillips, Adelaide, as Maddalena, 41; + as Pierotto, 41, 248 + +Photography, new effects in, 208 + +Piccolomini, 14, 74 + +Pinchot, Gifford, sister of, 353 + +Pine, Louisa, 13 + +Pitch, absolute, 4, 165, 267; + standard of, 231 + +Plancon, 312 + +Plantagenet, Lady Edith, 297 + +_Poliuto_, 62; + plot of, 71; + _Faust_ and, 88 + +_Polka, Clara Louise_, 88 + +Pond, Major, 360, 361 + +Pope Pius IX., 160 + +Porter, Ella, 11; + in Paris, 84 + +Porter, General Horace, 19, 20, 57 + +Prascovia, Minnie Hauck as, 102, 103 + +Press, criticisms of the, 27, 35, 39, 42, 68, 70, 75, 78, 88, 89, 94, + 97, 133, 135, 164, 200, 211, 215, 239, 240, 250, 252, 256, 258, 271, + 279, 291, 358; + standing of the, 328; + in Vienna, 331; + censorship in Russia of the, 336; + interview, 366 + +Public, English, 136, 194, 237; + American, 229, 230, 238; + rival factions of the, 250; + characteristics of the, 264, 296; + Petersburg, 339; + Boston, 358; + charm of the, 365, 372 + +_Puritani, I_, Brignoli in, 29; + Kellogg in, 54, 62, 63 + + +Quinn, Dr., 168, 191, 235 + + +Rachel, 16 + +Racine, 306 + +Rampolla, Cardinal, 161 + +Ramsay, Captain, 357 + +Ramsay, Col., 300 + +Randegger, 195 + +Rathbone, General, 300 + +Reed, Miss Fanny, in Boston, 45; + in New York, 277, 278 + +Reeves, Sims, 174, 175 + +_Reggimento, La Figlia del_, 56, 58, 62; + at close of Civil War, 114; + Lucca in, 249 + +Renaud in opera, 40, 265 + +Rice brothers, 94 + +_Rigoletto_, 29, 34, 36; + opinion of Boston of, 36; + origin of, 36, 62; + meaning of, 81, 167; + Masini as, 341 + +Ristori, 16 + +Rivarde, 11 + +_Robert le Diable_, 86, 201, 332 + +Robertson, Agnes, 15 + +Robertson, Madge (Mrs. Kendall), 284 + +Robin, Theodore, 304-306 + +Rockitanski, 170 + +Ronalds, Mrs. Peter, 276, 277, 279 + +Ronconi, 94; + The Czar and, 95; + in _Fra Diavolo_, 95; + anecdote of, 96 + +Rosa, Carl, 101 + +Rosa, Euphrosyne Parepa, 101, 209, 262 + +Rosina, 91, 93, 96, 97, 137 + +Rossini, 13, 97; + reference to, 133; + English and, 136; + traditions of, 277; + Nordica and, 310 + +Rossmore, Lady, 192, 198 + +Rota, 261 + +Rothschild, Baron Alfred de, 194, 198, 235 + +Rovere, 94 + +Roze, Marie, 236, 261, 289, 290, 292, 293, 298 + +Rubenstein, 246, 248 + +Rudersdorf, Mme. Erminie, 165 + +Ryan, Mr., 305 + +Ryloff, 269 + + +_Salome_, suppression of, 69, 254 + +Salvini, 283 + +Sampson, Mr., 190, 198 + +Sandford, Wright, 126, 203 + +Santley, Ronconi and, 95; + as Valentine, 132; + kindness of, 134; + as Almaviva, 137, 167, 168, 170, 173, 174, 184, 198 + +Sanz, 248, 249 + +Sargent, 281 + +Sbriglia, 310-313; + Jean de Reszke and, 313, 314, 367-369 + +Scalchi, Sofia, 172, 185; + in Petersburg, 337 + +Scarborough, Bishop, 300 + +Scola, lessons in acting from, 29, 38 + +Scott, Sir Walter, 261 + +Sebasti, 161 + +Seguin, Stella, 257, 258 + +Seguin, Ted, 258 + +Sembrich, Marcella, 337 + +Semiramide, 171, 277, 342 + +Senta, 263-265, 292 + +_Serenade, The Persian_, 223 + +Shakespeare in music, 141 + +Sherman, General, in Chicago, 114 + +Siebel, Miss Sulzer as, 87 + +Singing, methods of, 5; + Grisi and, 158, 159; + _prime donne_ and, 231; + early, 307; + Nordica and, 310; + Sbriglia and, 311-321, 367-369; + traditions of, 366 + +Sinico, Mme., 137 + +Sinnett, A. P., 189 + +Slezak, 312 + +Smith, Mark, 246 + +Society, Arion, 206 + +Somerset, Duchess of, 121-124; + letters by, 125; + beadwork of, 126, 137, 144, 197, 168, 188, 197 + +_Sonnambula, La_, 54, 62-64; + teaching of, 65, 66; + _aria_ from 67; + Murska in, 296 + +Sonnenthal, 330 + +Southern, the elder, 15 + +Spofford, Harriet Prescott, 50 + +_Stabat Mater_, 310 + +Stackpoole, Major, 192, 197, 198 + +Stage, attitude toward, 11; + Italian attitude toward, 12; + English precedent of, 12; + superstitions of, 24, 36, 165; + primitive conditions of, 25, 27, 28, 37, 38, 87; + in France, 140 + +Stanley, 189 + +_Star of the North, The_, 102; + flute song of, 173; + in English, 257, 266; + quartette in, 267 + +_Star, The Evening_, 230 + +Stebbins, Colonel Henry G., 10; + daughters of, 11; + home of, 16; + sister of, 33; + _Faust_ and, 85; + in England, 122-124, 137; + in Scotland, 131; + in France, 155, 158; + daughter of, 160; + friendship of, 171, 173, 174, 197, 198 + +Stevens, Mrs. Paran, in Boston, 44, 45, 278; + sister of, 277 + +Stewart, Jules, 306 + +Stigelli, 33, 71, 294 + +Stowe, Harriet Beecher, 46, 49 + +Strakosch, Maurice, 130, 148; + Napoleon and, 149; + at Covent Garden with, 194, 198; + Patti and, advice of, 294; + methods of, 302 + +Strakosch, Max, 200, 201, 204, 205, 240, 289, 292, 294-296, 300, 303, 359 + +Strauss, 79, 254 + +Sulzer, Miss, 87 + +_Summer, The Last Rose of_, 135 + +Susanna, Kellogg as, 170, 240 + +Susini, name of, 22; + as the Baron in _Linda_, 41; + wife of, 41; + sense of humour of, 42; + salute of Grant and Sherman by, 115; + mention of, 294 + + +Tadema, Alma, 191 + +Tagliapietra, 358 + +_Talisman, The_, 261, 297 + +Talleyrand, Marquis de, 157, 158 + +_Tannhaeuser_, 140, 230 + +Tennants, 189 + +Terry, Ellen, 234, 248; + opinion of, 283, 284 + +Thalberg, 106; + Strakosch and, 294 + +Theatre, in England, 131; + in France, 140, 141; + Her Majesty's 189, 235; + traditions of the, 366 + +Theatre, Booth's, 267 + +Theatre Comique, 307 + +Theatre Francais, 265, 306 + +Theatre Lyrique, 145 + +Thomas, Ambrose, 146 + +Thomas, Theodore, at the Academy, 40; + in Chicago, 321 + +Thomaschewski, Dr., 337, 347 + +Thompson troupe, Lydia, 69 + +_Thorough-base_, 2 + +Thursby, Emma, 298 + +Tilton, Mrs. Elizabeth, 214 + +Titjiens, in London, 77, 129, 132, 137, 139, 170, 173; + pet of, 168, 169, 178, 179, 185, 196, 235, 239, 302 + +_Traviata_, Piccolomini in, 14; + the part of Violetta in, 15, 62; + libretto of, 68; + public opinion of, 69, 70; + Patti in, 130; + at Her Majesty's, 135, 164; + costume in, 136; + rehearsal of, 163; + success of, 164; + Lucca in, 249; + interpretation of, 291; + Kellogg in 329, 338, 342; + solo from, 357 + +Trebelli-Bettini, 236 + +Trentini, Emma, superstition of, 166 + +Trobriand, Baron de, opinions and stories of, 16 + +Trollope, Anthony, 46, 48 + +_Trovatore_, Mme. de la Grange in, 13; + Marie Willt in, 153; + Lucca in, 179; + Kellogg in, 201, 249, 260, 261, 329; + Carlton in, 268 + +Tschaikowsky, 306 + +Turner, Charles, 261 + + +Valentine, Carlton as, 260; + Kellogg as, 295 + +Vanderbilt, Frederick W., 300 + +Vanderbilt, William H., 197, 285, 286 + +Vane-Tempest, Lady Susan, 192, 197 + +Van Zandt, Miss, 307 + +Van Zandt, Mrs., 257 + +Verdi, mention of, 11; + Falstaff of, 91; + reference to, 133, 292, 298; + meeting with, 307, 308; + criticism of, 331 + +Vernon, Mrs., 15 + +Victoria, Queen, 177, 186, 301 + +Villiers, Colonel, 353 + +Violetta, 15; + character of, 70; + gowns of 70; + jewels for, 104; + Patti as, 130; + costume of, 135; + Kellogg as, 338; + solo of, 357 + +Vogel, 307 + +Voltaire, house of, 143 + + +Wagner, fondness of Kellogg for music of, 30; + use of flute by, 52; + as a revolutionist, 78, 263, 264, 265; + reviewers and, 88; + mention of, 90, 292; + French idea of, 140, 253; + von Bulow and, 298; + Hanslick and, 329, 330 + +Walcot, Charles, 15 + +Wales, Prince of, 133, 164, 177, 178, 180-183; + daughter of, 190, 192, 301, 302 + +Wales, Princess of, 178, 180-183, 302 + +Wallack, John, exclamation of, 16 + +Wallack, Lester, 300 + +_Waltz, The Kellogg_, 135, 138 + +War, Civil, West Point before the, 19; + beginning of the, 54; + attitude of public toward, 55; + riots in New York during, 59-61; + opera during the, 74, 75; + close of, 110; + after the, 201; + reference to, 233, 359, 360 + +Wehli, James M., 201 + +Welldon, Georgina, 241-243 + +Werther, 91 + +West Point, primitive conditions of, 17; + conspiracies at, 18 + +Wheeler, A. C., 42, 75 + +White, Stanford, 280 + +Whitney, M. W., 298 + +Widor, 305 + +Wieniawski, 246 + +Wig, for Marguerite, 82-84, 140; + of Leuta, 265 + +Wilde, Oscar, 254, 255 + +Willt, Marie, anecdote of, 153 + +Witherspoon, Herbert, in Norfolk, 9; + in New Hartford, 67 + +Wood, Mrs. John, 15 + +Worth, creations of, 136, 278, 279, 347, 348 + +Wyckoff, Chevalier, 148, 188 + + +Yeats, Edmund, 246, 247 + +Young, Brigham, 298 + + +Zerlina, Piccolomini as, 14; + Kellogg as, 74, 91-93, 97, 137, 170; + country of, 159; + Lucca as, 249 + + * * * * * + + +_A Selection from the Catalogue of_ + +G. P. PUTNAM'S SONS + +Complete Catalogue sent on application + + * * * * * + +"_A grab-bag of fascinations, for open the pages where one will, each +chapter has its racy anecdote and astonishing story._" + +My Autobiography + +Madame Judith + +of the Comedie Francaise + +Edited by Paul G'Sell + +Translated by Mrs. Arthur Bull + +_With Photogravure Frontispiece. $3.50 net By mail, $3.75_ + + +Madame Judith was not only a stage rival but a close friend of the great +French actress, Rachel, and the intimate of Victor Hugo, Alfred de +Musset, Alexandra Dumas, Prince Napoleon, and many other men of letters +and rank. + +Madame Judith's memories extend over an intensely interesting period of +French history, commencing with the Revolution that ushered in the +Second Empire, and ending with the foundation of the Republic after the +Franco-Prussian War. + +Famous actors and actresses, poets, novelists, dramatists, members of +the imperial family, statesmen, and minor actors in the drama of life +flit across the canvas, their personalities being vividly realized by +some significant anecdotes or telling characterizations. + +Kind-hearted, clear-headed, and brilliantly gifted, Madame Judith led an +active and fascinating life, and it is to her credit that while she does +not hesitate to tell of the weaknesses of others, she is equally ready +to acknowledge her own. + +New York G. P. Putnam's Sons London + + * * * * * + +The Life of + +Henry Labouchere + +By Algar Labouchere Thorold + +_Authorized Edition. 2 vols. With 6 Photogravure Illustrations_ + + +The authorized edition has been prepared by the nephew of Mr. +Labouchere, who for the last ten years has been a close neighbor of, and +in intimate and personal relation with him. Mr. Labouchere frequently +communicated to Mr. Thorold many details of his early life, and +discussed with him his numerous activities with great freedom. Mr. +Thorold has, furthermore, sole access to a voluminous correspondence, +including letters from King Edward VII. when Prince of Wales, Mr. +Gladstone, Lord Morley, Sir William Harcourt, Mr. Parnell, Lord Randolph +Churchill, and Sir Henry Campbell-Bannerman, which shed a new and +unexpected light upon his political and personal relations with the +events and people of his time, in particular his connection with the +Radical Party over a period of a considerable number of years. His life +as a war correspondent during the siege of Paris and his action in +connection with the Parnell Commission, culminating in the dramatic +confession of Pigott, will be treated in full detail. As is well-known +Mr. Labouchere was the founder and first editor of _Truth_, that unique +production of modern journalism; and much new and interesting +information concerning the foundation and early days of this remarkable +journal will be brought before the public. + +New York G. P. Putnam's Sons London + + * * * * * + +A Woman's Defense + +My Own Story + +By Louisa of Tuscany + +Ex-Crown Princess of Saxony + +_With 19 Illustrations from Original Photographs 8º. $3.50 net. (By +mail, $3.75)_ + + +In this volume Princess Louisa gives for the first time the authentic +inside history of the events that led to her sensational escape from the +Court of Saxony and her meeting with Monsieur Giron, with whom the +tongue of scandal had associated her name. It is a story of Court +intrigue that reads like romance. + +"As the story of a woman's life, as a description of the private affairs +of Royal houses, we have had nothing more intimate, more scandalous, or +more readable than this very frank story." + +_Miss Jeannette L. Gilder in "The Reader."_ + +"Frank, free, amazingly intimate, refreshing.... She has spared nobody +from kings and kaisers to valets and chambermaids." + +_London Morning Post._ + +"The Princess is a decidedly vivacious writer, and she does not mince +words in describing the various royalties by whom she was surrounded. +Some of her pictures of Court life will prove a decided revelation to +most readers."--_N. Y. Times._ + +New York G. P. Putnam's Sons London + + * * * * * + +A STARTLING BOOK! + +My Past + +Reminiscences of the Courts of Austria and of Bavaria + +By the Countess Marie Larisch + +Nee Baroness Von Wallersee + +Daughter of Duke Ludwig and Niece of the Late Empress Elizabeth of +Austria + +_8º. With 21 Illustrations from Original Photographs $3.50 net. By mail, +$3.75_ + +_The True Story of the Tragic Death of Rudolph, Crown Prince of Austria_ + +The author was the favourite niece of the Empress Elizabeth of Austria +and enjoyed her aunt's complete trust. The Empress confided to her many +circumstances which this cautious ruler withheld from others close to +her person. Her station at the Austrian Court has enabled her to tell +many intimate and curiosity-arousing anecdotes concerning the noble +families of Europe. + +Interesting and full of glamour as her life was, however, her place in +history is assured primarily through her inadvertent connection with the +amour which Crown Prince Rudolph of Austria carried on with the Baroness +Mary Vetsera, and which culminated in the tragic death of the lovers at +Meyerling. + +"_An amazing chronicle of imperial and royal scandals, which spares no +member of the two august houses to which she is related._"--_N. Y. +Tribune._ + +New York G. P. Putnam's Sons London + + + + + + +End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of Memoirs of an American Prima Donna, by +Clara Louise Kellogg + +*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK MEMOIRS OF AN AMERICAN PRIMA DONNA *** + +***** This file should be named 38023.txt or 38023.zip ***** +This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: + http://www.gutenberg.org/3/8/0/2/38023/ + +Produced by Chuck Greif, University of Michigan Libraries +and the Online Distributed Proofreading Team at +http://www.pgdp.net + + +Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions +will be renamed. + +Creating the works from public domain print editions means that no +one owns a United States copyright in these works, so the Foundation +(and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United States without +permission and without paying copyright royalties. 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