Morning journal and courier. [volume] (New Haven [Conn.]) 1848-1894, 1890-05-26
UNFORrUNATE OPERA SINGERS.
Sad Fate of BrIgnOll, Susini and other

Sad Fate of BrIgnOli, Susini and other
Once Popular FavOrites.
"I think" says an old habitue of the the
ater in New York, "that nine out of ten
great musical artists come to some unhappy
end. Take Brignoli, for instance. He sim-
steady deluge of gold on him. He practi-
cally had the earth. He might have been
living now, millionaire many times over.
His success, unlike that of many other favor
ties, was not shortlived. He sang longer In
the United States than any tenor who has
been here before or since. But he was like
all the rest. The money which fell into his
Golfers fell into sieve. He always lived at
the Everett house when in New York. He
porous days that the proprietor, when he
died, left a verbal direction that Brignoli
should always have free home there as long
as he lived. He died there absolutely penni-
less. He was buried by the contributions of
his friends and admirers.
"Then there was poor Susini. What a
sad fate he hadl He came here twenty Eve
at the Academy. The public idolized him
and poured money upon him in torrents.
He was wonderfully compan.onable man,
| and was loved personally as we'll as admired
artistically. In spite of all the wealth that
came to him he was always poor. His iber-
ality knew no bounds. He was the prey of
parasites and hangers on from the start. He
married finally Miss Hinckley of Albany,
| and out of that marriage grew tragedy.
He loved his wife dearly, and when she died
it broke him down. BE entirely lost his
voice. With his only child, daughter, he
l'went to live in London, but returned to New
York, where his daughter, who had then
grown up, married we'll known young dem
! tist. She died, and it drove her husband
crazy. He hunted all over the oity with q
pistol for the doctor who had attended his
wife, with the firm intention of killing him.
Not finding him. he blew his own brains out.
Soon after this Susini, childless widower,
without o penny in the world, went back to
London and tried to make a living giving
music lessons. His career there was short.
He was getting out Of an omnibus in the
street one day. and was knocked down
by cab, and died a few days later in a
hospital. He was buried in the potter's held,
I think.
"Great. fat, good-naturea, sweet-voiced
Amodioi In the dull season, when he had no
engagement, he lived at Delmonico's on cred
it, paid his rent in promises and his tailor In
the same coin.
"He had one tailor, however, who was not
complacent He dunned and dunned, and
Amodio promised and promised. At last the
tailor had his revenge. He met Amodio in
upper broadway one afternoon when the
street was crowded with people.
"Now, are you going to pay me that bill
or nots' said he fercely, grabbing Amodio
by the sleeve. L want my money; I've got
to have it
But how can give you money when I
haven't got ita' Amodie said in his sweet
good voice. You are an unreason-
able tailor
"'Then off with that coat; that coats
mine cried the tailor.
ga crowd had gathered, of course, and
shouted and roared at the fun. while Amodio
pulled off the coat and handed it over with q
flourish to the tailor. a. Then he went on his
walk in his shirt sleeves, shaking his fat
sides at the joke and stopping to tell
every acqaintance he met of his adventure.
"Poor Amodio died of yellow fever on a
voyage homeward from South America.
A man who was on the vessel told me
that after Amodio's body was thrown into
the sea the sharks fought for it like tigers.