The Bossier banner., 1893-11-30

failure would put to her whole career.
So she promised to give six farewell
nights Lumley was overjoyed, and
sent us boxes for all six. The enthu-
siasm of the audience knew no bounds.
Yet no one could believe that the sing
er, in the very plenitude of her powers
(she was only twenty-eight), really in
tended these to be the last of her tri-
umphs. But it was so, and after the
curtain fell on the last of the six she
never appeared again on any stage.
Mr.. Harris had consented to those
p performances, and he and Jenny were
once more on good terms.
She lived at this time in little house
very near us 1t was called Clairville
cottage; it was covered with roses and
creepers; it had a pretty garden, and
was thoroughly rural. The backs of
the houses in Brechin place now oc-
cupy the ground. She and Claudius
Harris often joined our country rides.
He generally fell to my share, and did
not find him exciting company. Lord
Lansdowne sometimes joined us and
also came to meet them at dinner, but
we did not venture to invite anyone
else, except the Grotes and one or two
others of Jenny's intimate friends. ALI
seemed to be going on swimmingly, and
Mrs. Grote went off to Paris, followed
soon after by my father, but before he
went he said to Jenny Lind: "Some-
thing tells me that your marriage will
not take place. If it should be broken
off again, write no letters and have no
farewell interviews, but join Mrs.
Grote in Paris immediately"
Affairs had not been going on so
smoothly as appeared. Mr. Harris had
asked Jenny to insert in the settlements
promise that she would never act
again. To this my father objected, and
he also insisted that Jenny was to have
uncontrolled power over her earnings.
Mr.. Harris said this was unscriptural,
and the engagement was nearly broken
off, but renewed in consequence of the
despair Mr.. Harris exhibited. He also
terrified her by threats of torment here
after if she broke her word; and last of
all, when in the joy of reconciliation
she was singing to him, she turned
round and saw that he had gone to
sleep. Not long after Mr.. Senior reached
Paris there was tap at the door of
Mrs. Grotes apartment one evening
about seven o'clock, and in came Jenny.
The ill-assorted marriage was finally
broken off.
The emotions of the last few mon tbs
had told heavily upon Jenny Lind, but
with the sense of freedom the power of
enjoyment soon returned, and she rode
in the Bois de Boulogne and walked on
the boulevards and in the Tuileries, and
listened to the nightingales. One day
she took my father to a house in the
place d'Orleans, near the Rue st. Laz-
are. 1t was built round courtyard,
with fountain in the middle. Jenny
gazed at it without speaking. After
ward she said: Il was so miserable in
that house; l envied the fountain be-
cause it was not obliged to sing"
The house had been the residence of
Manuel Garcia, the most celebrated
master of singing in Europe, and she
alluded to the time when, in despair
at the loss of her voice from fatigue
and bad management, she slowly re-
gained it by means, first of rest, and
then of skillful practice under Garcia's
teaching.
The domestic happiness for which she
had so long sighed was soon to he hers.
After singing in concerts and oratorios
in Germany, Sweden and Liverpool, she
sailed for the United States on August
81, 1850. Her success in the New World
was as brilliant as it had been in the
Old, and her charities Is munifcent.
Her company was joined in 1851 by Mr..
Otto Goldschmidt, who succeeded Bene
dict as pianist. A deep and true attach
ment sprang up between the two young
artists, and they were married on Feb
ruary. 5, 1852.
Her horror of being lionized led her
sometimes to reject overtures which
were made in perfectly good faith to
express the respect and admiration felt
for her; hence she was not always pop
ular. She delighted in giving chill
dren's parties | remember one IN 1865,
at her house in Wimbledon, and her
joyous participation in the amusement
she had provided, and again in More
tons gardens, when she waltZed like a
girl with her eldest son. The last time
| heard her sing was at a concert she
gave at her own house in 1880 for the
prince of Sweden. She had become
very nervous about her2voice, and it
was not certain whether in the end
she would summon up courage. At
last she yielded to the persuasion of her
friends and sang the splendid cantata,
with violin accompaniment, from Mo-
zart's Re Pastore." :" 1t was thing to
remember for the rest of ones life.
In her later years she took a little
house called Windspoint, which she ar
ranged aud improved till it resembled a
Swiss cottage on the top of the hills
above Malvern Wells. We had, in the
summer of 1884, house just below
hers, and we saw her much more fre-
quently than was possible in the tur-
moil of London. We often used to sit
with her in the garden enjoying the
magnificent view. She was always un-
easy lest she should be stared at, and If
any presumptuous wight peeped in at
| the gate, she would instantly shoot up