The beautiful singer became a great pet of the Parisian aristocracy, and
was welcomed in the highest circles, not simply as an artist, but as a
woman. She was honored with a state dinner at the Prussian Ambassador's,
and the most distinguished people were eager to be presented to her.
At the house of Talleyrand, having been introduced to the Duchess von
Lothringen, that haughty dame said, "I would not desire that my daughter
were other than you." It was almost unheard of that a German cantatrice
without social antecedents should be sedulously courted by the most
brilliant women of rank and fashion, and her presence sought as an
ornament at the most exclusive _salons_. It was at this time that
Catalani met her and declared, "_Elle est la première de son genre, mais
son genre n'est pas le premier_," and a celebrated flute-player on her
being introduced to him by a musical professor was accosted with the
words, "_Ecco il tuo rivale_."
In Paris, as was the case afterward in London, the most romantic stories
were in circulation about the adoration lavished on her by princes
and bankers, artists and musicians. The most exalted personages were
supposed to be sighing for her love, and it was reported that no singer
had ever had so many offers of marriage from people of high rank and
consideration. Indeed, it was well known that about the same time
Charles de Beriot, the great violinist, and a nobleman of almost
princely birth, laid their hearts and hands at her feet. Mile. Sontag,
it need not be said, was true to her promise to Count Rossi, and refused
all the flattering overtures made her by her admirers. A singular
link connects the careers of Sontag and Malibran personally as well as
musically. It was during the early melancholy and suffering of De
Beriot at Sontag's rejection of his love that he first met Malibran.
His profound dejection aroused her sympathy, and she exerted herself to
soothe him and rouse him from his state of languor and lassitude. The
result can easily be fancied. De Beriot's heart recovered from the
shock, and was kindled into a fresh flame by the consolations of the
beautiful and gifted Spanish singer, whence ensued a connection which
was consummated in marriage as soon as Malibran was able to break the
unfortunate tie into which she had been inveigled in America.
The Parisian managers offered the most extravagant terms to keep the
new favorite of the public, but her heart and duty alike prompted her to
return to Berlin. On the route, at the different towns where she
sang, she was received with brilliant demonstrations of admiration and
respect, and it was said at the time that her return journey on this
occasion was such a triumphal march as has rarely been vouchsafed to
an artist, touching in the spontaneity of its enthusiasm as it was
brilliant and impressive in its forms. Berlin welcomed her with great
warmth, and, though Cata-lani herself was among the singers at the
theatre, Sontag fully shared her glory in the German estimation.
The King made her first singer at his chapel, at a yearly salary of
twenty-four thousand francs, and rich gifts were showered on her by her
hosts of wealthy and ardent admirers.
She sang again in Paris in 1828, appearing in "La Cenerentola" as a
novelty, though the music had to be transposed for her. Malibran was
singing the same season, and a bitter rivalry sprang up between the
blonde and serene German beauty and the brilliant Spanish brunette. It
was whispered afterward, by those who knew Malibran well, that she never
forgave Henrietta Sontag for having been the first to be beloved by De
Beriot. The voices of the two singers differed as much as their persons.
The one was distinguished for exquisite sweetness and quality of tone,
and perfection of execution, for a polished and graceful correctness
which never did anything alien to good taste and made finish of form
compensate for lack of fire. The other's splendid voice was marred by
irregularity and unevenness, but possessed a passionate warmth in its
notes which stirred the hearts of the hearers. Full of extraordinary
expedients, an audience was always dazzled by some unexpected beauties
of Malibran's performance, and her original and daring conceptions gave
her work a unique character which set her apart from her contemporaries.
The Parisian public took pleasure in fomenting the dispute between the
rival queens of song, and each one was spurred to the utmost by the hot
discord which raged between them.
On April 16th of the same year Mile. Sontag made her first appearance
before the London public in the character of _Mosina_ in Rossini's "Il
Barbiere," a part peculiarly suited to the grace of her style and
the _timbre_ of her voice. One of her biographers thus sketches the
expectations and impressions of the London public:
"Since Mrs. Billington, never had such high promise been made, or so
much expectation excited: her talents had been exaggerated by report,
and her beauty and charms extolled as matchless; she was declared to
possess all the qualities of every singer in perfection, and as an
actress to be the very personification of grace and power. Stories
of the romantic attachments of foreign princes and English lords were
afloat in all directions; she was going to be married to a personage of
the loftiest rank--to a German prince--to an ambassador; she was pursued
by the ardent love of men of fashion. Among other stories in circulation
was one of a duel between two imaginary rival candidates for a ticket
of admission to her performance; but the most affecting and trustworthy
story was that of an early attachment between the beautiful Henrietta
and a young student of good family, which was broken off in consequence
of his passion for gambling.
"Mile. Sontag, before she appeared at the opera, sang at the houses of
Prince Esterhazy and the Duke of Devonshire. An immense crowd assembled
in front of the theatre on the evening of her _début_ at the opera. The
crush was dreadful; and when at length the half-stifled crowd managed
to find seats, 'shoes were held up in all directions to be owned.' The
audience waited in breathless suspense for the rising of the curtain;
and when the fair cantatrice appeared, the excited throng could scarcely
realize that the simple English-looking girl before them was the
celebrated Sontag. On recovering from their astonishment, they applauded
her warmly, and her lightness, brilliancy, volubility, and graceful
manner made her at once popular. Her style was more florid than that
of any other singer in Europe, not even excepting Catalani, whom she
excelled in fluency, though not in volume; and it was decided that she
resembled Fodor more than any other singer--which was natural, as she
had in early life imitated that cantatrice. Her taste was so cultivated
that the redundancy of ornament, especially the obligato passages
which the part of _Rosina_ presents, never, in her hands, appeared
overcharged; and she sang the cavatina 'Una voce poco fà' in a style as
new as it was exquisitely tasteful. 'Two passages, introduced by her in
this air, executed in a _staccato_ manner, could not have been surpassed
in perfection by the spirited bow of the finest violin-player.' In the
lesson-scene she gave Rode's variations, and her execution of the second
variation in arpeggios was pronounced infinitely superior to Catalani's.
"At first the _cognoscenti_ were haunted by a fear that Sontag would
permit herself to degenerate, like Catalani, into a mere imitator of
instrumental performers, and endeavor to astonish instead of pleasing
the public by executing such things as Rode's variations. But it was
soon observed that, while indulging in almost unlimited, luxuriance
of embellishment in singing Rossini's music, she showed herself a good
musician, and never fell into the fault, common with florid singers,
of introducing ornaments at variance with the spirit of the air or the
harmony of the accomplishments. In singing the music of Mozart or Weber,
she paid the utmost deference to the text, restraining the exuberance of
her fancy, and confining herself within the limits set by the
composer. Her success was tested by a most substantial proof of her
popularity--her benefit produced the enormous sum of three thousand
pounds."
Laurent, the manager of the Theatre Italien, succeeded in making a
contract by which Sontag was to sing in Paris for fifty thousand francs
a year, with a _congé_ of three months. It was at this period that she
commenced seriously to study tragic characters, and, though she at first
failed in making a strong impression on her audiences, her assiduous
attention to sentiment and passion wrought such fruits as to prove
how far study and good taste may create the effect of something like
inspiration, even on the part of an artist so cool and placid as the
great German cantatrice. Her efforts were stimulated by the rivalry of
Mali-bran, and this contest was the absorbing theme of discussion in the
Paris salons and journals. It reached such a height that the two singers
refused to meet each other socially, and on the stage when they
sang together their jealousy and dislike showed itself in the most
undisguised fashion. Among the incidents related of this interesting
operatic episode, the following are specially worthy of mention: An
Italian connoisseur, who had never heard Sontag, and who firmly believed
that no German could sing, was induced to go one night by a friend to
a performance in which she appeared. After listening five minutes he
started up hastily in act to go. "Stay," urged his friend; "you will be
convinced presently." "I know it," replied the Italian, "and therefore I
go."
One evening, at the termination of the performance, the two rivals
were called out, and a number of wreaths and bouquets were flung on the
stage. Malibran stooped and picked up one of the coronals, supposing it
designed for her, when a stern voice cried out: "Rendez-la; ce n'est pas
pour vous!" "I would not deprive Mlle. Sontag of a single wreath," said
the haughty Spaniard in a loud voice which could be heard everywhere
through the listening house. "I would sooner bestow one on her!"
This quarrel was afterward made up between them when they were engaged
together in London the following year, 1828. This reconciliation was
brought about by M. Fetis, who had accompanied them from Paris. He
proposed to them that they should sing for one of the pieces at a
concert in which they were both engaged, the _duo_ of _Semiramide_ and
_Arsace_, in Rossini's opera. For the first time in London their voices
were heard together. Each outdid herself in the desire to excel, and the
exquisite fusion of the two voices, so different in tone and character,
was so fine that the hearts of the rivals melted toward each other, and
they professed mutual friendship. The London public got the benefit of
this amity, for the manager of the King's Theatre was able to produce
operas in which they sang together, among them being "Semiramide," "Don
Giovanni," "Nozze di Figaro," and "Romeo e Giulietta"--Malibran playing
the hero in the latter opera. The following year Sontag also sang
with Malibran in London, her greatest success being in _Carolina_, the
principal character of Cimarosa's "Il Matrimonio Segreto."
Mile. Sontag was now for the first time assailed by the voice of
calumny. Her union with Count Rossi, consummated more than a year
before, had been kept secret on account of the dislike of his family
to the match. Born in Corsica, Count Rossi was a near relative of the
family of Napoleon Bonaparte, and his sister was the Princess de Salm.
His relations were opposed to his marriage with one whom they considered
a plebeian, though she had been ennobled by the Prussian King, under
the name of Von Lauenstein, with a full patent and all the formalities
observed on such occasions. Mile. Sontag determined to make a farewell
tour through Europe, and retire from the stage. She paid her adieux
to her public in the different great cities of Europe--London, Paris,
Berlin, St. Petersburg, Moscow, Warsaw, Leipsic, etc.--with incredible
success, and the sums she realized are said to have been enormous. On
returning from Russia she gave a concert at Hamburg; and it was here
that she took the occasion at a great banquet given her by a wealthy
merchant to make the public and formal announcement of her marriage to
Count Rossi. It was remarked that during this farewell concert tour
her powers, far from having declined, seemed to have gained in compass,
brilliancy, and expression.
Countess Rossi first lived at the Hague, and then for a short time at
Frankfort. Here she took precedence of all the ladies of the diplomatic
corps, her husband being Minister Plenipotentiary to the Germanic Diet.
In Berlin she was a familiar guest of the royal family, and sang duets
and trios with the princes and princesses. She devoted her leisure hours
to the study of composition, and at the houses of Prince Esterhazy and
Prince Metternich, in 1841, at Vienna, she executed a cantata of her
own for soprano and chorus with most brilliant success. The Empress
herself invited the Countess to repeat it at her own palace with all the
imperial family for listeners. Thus courted and flattered, possessed
of ample wealth and rank, idolized by her friends and respected by the
great world, Henrietta Sontag passed nearly twenty swift, happy years
at the different European capitals to which her husband was successively
accredited.