Mr. Barnum, no mean adept himself in the science of advertising, took
a lesson from the ingenious trickery of Mr. Lumley in whetting the
appetite of the American public for the coming of the Swedish _diva_.
He took good care that the newspapers should be flooded with the most
exaggerated and sensational anecdotes of her life and career, and day
after day the people were kept on the alert by columns of fulsome praise
and exciting gossip. On her arrival in New York, in September, 1850,
both the wharf and adjacent streets were packed with people eager to
catch a glimpse of the great singer. Her hotel, the Irving House, was
surrounded at midnight by not less than thirty thousand people, and she
was serenaded by a band of one hundred and thirty musicians, who had
marched up, led by several hundreds of red-shirted firemen. The American
furore instantly took on the proportions of that which had crazed the
English public. The newspapers published the names of those who had
bought tickets, and printed a fac-simile of the card which admitted the
owner to the concert building. The anxiety to see Mlle. Lind, when she
was driving, was a serious embarrassment to her, and at the "public
reception" days, arranged for her, throngs of ladies filled her
drawing-rooms. Costly presents were sent to her anonymously, and in
every way the public displayed similar extravagance. On the day of the
first concert, in spite of the fierce downpour of rain, there were five
thousand persons buying tickets; and the price paid for the first ticket
to the first concert, six hundred dollars, constitutes the sole title to
remembrance of the enterprising tradesman who thus sought to advertise
his wares.
Nothing was talked of except Jenny Lind, and on the night of the first
appearance, September 11th, seven thousand throats burst forth in
frantic shouts of applause and welcome, as the Swedish Nightingale
stepped on the Castle Garden stage in a simple dress of white, and as
pallid with agitation as the gown she wore. She sang "Casta Diva," a
duo with Belletti, from Rossini's "Il Turco in Italia," and the Trio
Concertante, with two flutes, from Meyerbeer's "Feldlager in Schliesen,"
of which Moscheles had said that "it was, perhaps, the most astonishing
piece of bravura singing which could possibly be heard." These pieces,
with two Swedish national songs, were received with the loudest salvos
of applause. The proceeds of this first concert were twenty-six
thousand dollars, of which Jenny Lind gave her share to the charitable
institutions of New York, and, on learning that some of the members of
the New York orchestra were in indigent circumstances, she generously
made them a substantial gift. Her beneficent actions during her entire
stay in America are too numerous to detail. Frequently would she flit
away from her house quietly, as if about to pay a visit, and then she
might be seen disappearing down back lanes or into the cottages of
the poor. She was warned to avoid so much liberality, as many unworthy
persons took unfair advantage of her bounty; but she invariably replied,
"Never mind; if I relieve ten, and one is worthy, I am satisfied." She
had distributed thirty thousand florins in Germany; she gave away in
England nearly sixty thousand pounds; and in America she scattered in
charity no less than fifty thousand dollars.
To record the experiences of the Swedish Nightingale in the different
cities of America would be to repeat the story of boundless enthusiasm
on the part of the public, and lavish munificence on the part of the
singer, which makes her record nobly monotonous. There seemed to be no
bounds to the popular appreciation and interest, as was instanced one
night in Baltimore. While standing on the balcony of her hotel bowing to
the shouting multitude, her shawl dropped among them, and instantly it
was torn into a thousand strips, to be preserved as precious souvenirs.
Jenny Lind did not remain under Mr. Barnum's management during the
whole of the season. A difficulty having risen, she availed herself of a
clause in the contract, and by paying thirty thousand dollars broke the
engagement. The last sixty nights of the concert series she gave under
her own management. In Boston, February 5, 1852, the charming singer
married Mr. Otto Goldschmidt, the pianist, who had latterly been
connected with her concert company. The son of a wealthy Hamburg
merchant, Mr. Goldschmidt had taken an excellent rank as a pianist,
and made some reputation as a minor composer. Mme. Goldschmidt and her
husband returned to Europe in 1852, this great artist having made about
one hundred and fifty thousand dollars in her American tour, aside
from the large sums lavished in charity. After several years spent in
Germany, M. and Mme. Goldschmidt settled permanently in London, where
they are still residing. She has frequently appeared in concert and
oratorio till within a year or two, and, as the mother of an interesting
family and a woman of the most charming personal character, is warmly
welcomed in the best London society. 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 by her friend Felix Mendelssohn has largely
benefited by her help, and it may be truly said that her sympathy has
never been appealed to in vain, by those who have any reasonable claim.
Competent judges have estimated that the total amount given away by
Jenny Lind in charity and to benevolent institutions will reach at least
half a million of dollars.