A Dictionary of Music and Musicians/Lind, Jenny


LIND, Jenny, was born at Stockholm Oct. 6, 1820 (not, as Fétis says, on Feb. 8). Count Puke, director of the Court Theatre, admitted her to the school of singing which is attached to that establishment, and she received there her first lessons from a master named Berg. She made her début at the Opera in her native city, in March 1838, as Agatha in Weber's 'Freischütz,' and played afterwards the principal rule in 'Euryanthe,' Alice in 'Robert le Diable,' and finally 'La Vestale,' all with brilliant success. In fact, 'she upheld the Royal Theatre until June 1841, when she went to Paris in hope of improving her style of singing.' There Manuel Garcia gave her lessons, during a period of nine months, but 'she herself mainly contributed to the development of her naturally harsh and unbending voice, by ever holding before herself the ideal which she had formed from a very early age. She had been wont to sing to her mother's friends from her third year; and, even at that period, the intense feeling of melancholy, almost natural to all Swedes, which filled her young soul, gave to her voice an expression which drew tears from the listeners.' Meyerbeer, who happened to be at Paris at the time, heard her, was delighted, and foretold a brilliant future for the young singer. She obtained a hearing [App. p.701 "She was to have appeared"] at the Opera in 1842, but no engagement followed. Naturally hurt at this, she is said to have determined never to accept an engagement in Paris; and, whether this be true or not, it is certain that, as late as March 1847, she declined an engagement at the Académie Royale, for no other reason than that of 'affaires personelles;' nor did she ever appear in Paris again.

Jenny Lind now went to Berlin, in August 1844, and for a time studied German. In September she returned to Stockholm, and took part in the fêtes at the crowning of King Oscar; but returned to Berlin in October, and obtained an engagement at the Opera through the influence of Meyerbeer, who had written for her the principal rôle in his 'Feldlager in Schlesien,' afterwards remodelled as 'L'Etoile du Nord.' She appeared first, December 15, as Norma, and was welcomed with enthusiasm; and afterwards played, with equal success, her part in Meyerbeer's new opera. In the following April she sang at Hamburg, Cologne, and Coblentz. After this tour she returned again to Stockholm by way of Copenhagen, and once more enjoyed a triumphant success. At the Gewandhaus, Leipzig, she made her first appearance Dec. 6, 1845 [App. p.701 "Dec. 4"]. Engaged soon after for Vienna, she appeared there April 18, 1846.

On May 4, 1847, Jenny Lind made her first appearance in London, at Her Majesty's Theatre, in 'Robert.' Moscheles had already met her in Berlin, and wrote thus (Jan. 10, 1845) of her performance in 'The Camp of Silesia,'—'Jenny Lind has fairly enchanted me; she is unique in her way, and her song with two concertante flutes is perhaps the most incredible feat in the way of bravura singing that can possibly be heard … How lucky I was to find her at home! What a glorious singer she is, and so unpretentious withal!' This character, though true to life, was, however, shamefully belied by the management of the London Theatre, both before and after her arrival. It is curious now to look back upon the artifices employed, the stories of broken contracts (this not without some foundation), of long diplomatic pourparlers, special messengers, persuasion, hesitation, and vacillations, kept up during many months,—all in order to excite the interest of the operatic public. Not a stone was left unturned, not a trait of the young singer's character, public or private, un-exploité, by which sympathy, admiration, or even curiosity, might be aroused (see Lumley's 'Reminiscences,' 1847). After appearing as the heroine of a novel ('The Home,' by Miss Bremer), and the darling of the Opera at Stockholm, she was next described as entrancing the opera-goers of Berlin, where indeed she was doubtless a welcome contrast to their ordinary prime donne; and her praises had been sung by the two great German composers, and had not lost by translation. But, not content with fulsome praise founded on these circumstances, the paragraphists, inspired of course by those for whose interest the paragraphs were manufactured, and assuredly without her knowledge or sanction, did not hesitate to speak in the most open way,—and as if in commendation of her as a singer, and above other singers,—of Mlle. Lind's private virtues, and even of her charities. Singers have ever been charitable, generous, open-handed and open-hearted; to their credit be it recorded: the exceptions have been few. With their private virtues critics have nought to do; these should be supposed to exist, unless the contrary be glaringly apparent. The public was, however, persistently fed with these advertisements and harassed with further rumours of doubts and even disappointment in the early part of 1847, it being actually stated that the negociations had broken down,—all after the engagement had been signed and sealed!

The interest and excitement of the public at her first appearance was, therefore, extraordinary; and no wonder that it was so. Yet her great singing in the part of 'Alice' disappointed none but a very few, and those were silenced by a tumultuous majority of idolaters. She certainly sang the music splendidly, and acted the part irreproachably. The scene at the cross in the second act was in itself a complete study, so strongly contrasted were the emotions she portrayed,—first terror, then childlike faith and confidence,—while she preserved, throughout, the innocent manner of the peasant girl. 'From that first moment till the end of that season, nothing else was thought about, nothing else talked about, but the new Alice—the new Sonnambula—the new Maria in Donizetti's charming comic opera,—his best. Pages could be filled by describing the excesses of the public. Since the days when the world fought for hours at the pit-door to see the seventh farewell of Siddons, nothing had been seen in the least approaching the scenes at the entrance of the theatre when Mlle. Lind sang. Prices rose to a fabulous height. In short, the town, sacred and profane, went mad about "the Swedish nightingale"' (Chorley). Ladies constantly sat on the stairs at the Opera, unable to penetrate further into the house. Her voice, which then at its very best showed some signs of early wear, was a soprano of bright, thrilling, and remarkably sympathetic quality, from D to D, with another note or two occasionally available above the high D. The upper part of her register was rich and brilliant, and superior both in strength and purity to the lower. These two portions she managed, however, to unite in the most skilful way, moderating the power of her upper notes so as not to outshine the lower. She had also a wonderfully, developed 'length of breath,' which enabled her to perform long and difficult passages with ease, and to fine down her tones to the softest pianissimo, while still maintaining the quality unvaried. Her execution was very great, her shake true and brilliant, her taste in ornament altogether original, and she usually invented her own cadenze. In a song from 'Beatrice di Tenda,' she had a chromatic cadence ascending to E in alt, and descending to the note whence it had risen, which could scarcely be equalled for difficulty and perfection of execution. The following, sung by her at the end of 'Ah! non giunge,' was given to the present writer by an ear-witness:—

{ \override Score.TimeSignature #'stencil = ##f \key aes \major \relative e'' { \cadenzaOn ees8[ ~ ees16 d ees f g fis g aes bes a bes c d-. c-. d-. c-. d-. c-. ees-. d-. c d bes g ees d bes aes g bes d f! ees aes g c] bes4\fermata \bar "|" aes4 } }

In this comparatively simple cadenza, the high D, C, E, though rapidly struck, were not given in the manner of a shake, but were positively martelées, and produced an extraordinary effect. Another cadence, which, according to Moscheles, 'electrified' them at the Gewandhaus, occurred three times in one of Chopin's Mazurkas;

{ \override Score.TimeSignature #'stencil = ##f \key aes \major \relative e' { \cadenzaOn \repeat unfold 3 { \grace { ees8[ ees'] } c'2 } bes16[ aes g bes aes f ees8 ees,] des'4. g,8 \bar "|" aes2 } }

[App. p.701 "See a cadence of hers in the Musical Union Record, 1849, p. 8."]

'What shall I say of Jenny Lind?' he writes again (1847): 'I can find no words adequate to give you any real idea of the impression she has made.… This is no short-lived fit of public enthusiasm. I wanted to know her off the stage as well as on; but, as she lives some distance from me, I asked her in a letter to fix upon an hour for me to call. Simple and unceremonious as she is, she came the next day herself, bringing her answer verbally. So much modesty and so much greatness united are seldom if ever to be met with; and, although her intimate friend Mendelssohn had given me an insight into the noble qualities of her character, I was surprised to find them so apparent.' Again and again he speaks in the warmest terms of her, and subsequently of her and her husband together.

Meanwhile Mlle. Lind maintained the mark which she had made in 'Robert,' by her impersonation of the Sonnambula, a most effective character,—'Lucia,' Adina, in 'L'Elisir,' 'La Figlia del Regimento,' and, perhaps, altogether her best part, Giulia in Spontini's 'Vestale.' In 1848 she returned to Her Majesty's Theatre, and added to these 'Lucia di Lammermoor' and 'L'Elisir d'Amore.' In 1849 she announced her intention not to appear again on the stage, but so far modified this resolution as to sing at Her Majesty's Theatre in Mozart's 'Flauto Magico' arranged as a concert, without acting (April 15); and still further by re-appearing in 'La Sonnambula' (April 26) and 3 other operas. Her last appearance 'on any stage' took place in 'Roberto,' May 18 [App. p.819 "May 10"], 1849. [App. p.819 "Add that she sang in April and May, 1849, for Lumley, as farewell appearances, at one concert (Flauto Magico), and in six operatic performances, viz. April 26, Sonnambula; 28, Lucia; May 3, Figlia; 5, Sonnambula; 8, Lucia; 10, Roberto (her last appearance on the stage).

Lumley, in his book, mentions four, meaning perhaps four different parts, or possibly with the idea of undervaluing her assistance, which, according to Nassau Senior, was gratuitously given to Lumley.

According to Léon Fillet and Arthur Pougin (Le Ménestrel, Nov. 20, 1887), the 'hearing' of Mlle. Lind (1842) by Meyerbeer, of which so much has been said and written, had no reference whatever to an engagement at the Opéra at Paris. It seems to have been altogether private, and unconnected with any question of the sort."] Henceforward she betook herself to the more congenial platform of the concert-room. How she sang there, many of the present generation can still remember,—'the wild, queer, northern tunes brought here by her—her careful expression of some of Mozart's great airs—her mastery over such a piece of execution as the Bird song in Haydn's Creation—and lastly, the grandeur of inspiration with which the "Sanctus" of angels in Mendelssohn's "Elijah" was led by her (the culminating point in that Oratorio). These are the triumphs which will stamp her name in the Golden Book of singers' (Chorley). On the other hand, the wondrous effect with which she sang a simple ballad, in the simplest possible manner, can never be forgotten by those who ever heard it. After another season in London, and a visit to Ireland in 1848, Mlle. Lind was engaged by Barnum, the American speculator, to make a tour of the United States. She arrived there in 1850, and remained for nearly two years, during part of the time unfettered by an engagement with any impresario, but accompanied by Mr., now Sir Julius, Benedict. The Americans, with their genius for appreciation and hospitality, welcomed her everywhere with frantic enthusiasm, and she made £20,000 in this progress. Here it was, in Boston, on Feb. 5, 1852, that she married Mr. Otto Goldschmidt. [Goldschmidt.]

Returned to Europe, Mme. Goldschmidt now travelled through Holland, and again visited Germany. In 1856 she came once more to England, and, until recent years, appeared frequently in oratorios and concerts.

It must be recorded that the whole of her American earnings was devoted to founding and endowing art-scholarships and other charities in her native Sweden; while, in England, the country of her adoption, among other charities, she has given a whole hospital to Liverpool and a wing of another to London. The scholarship founded in memory of her friend Felix Mendelssohn also benefited largely by her help and countenance; and it may be said with truth that her generosity and her sympathy are never appealed to in vain by those who have any just claims upon them. [Mendelssohn Scholarship.]

Madame Lind-Goldschmidt now lives in London, respected and admired by all who know her, the mother of a family, mixing in society, but in no degree losing her vivid interest in music. The Bach Choir, conducted by Mr. Goldschmidt, which has lately given the English public the first opportunity of hearing in its entirety the B minor Mass of that composer, has profited in no small degree by the careful training bestowed on the female portion of the chorus by this great singer, and the enthusiasm inspired by her presence among them.

[App. p. 701 "Add that from Easter 1883 to Easter 1886 she was professor of singing at the Royal College of Music, and that she died at Wynd's Point, Malvern, on Nov. 2, 1887."]

[ J. M. ]