THE LAST YEARS OF MY PROFESSIONAL CAREER
At Villefranche, on our way to Nice, I had been given a formal reception
by the officers of the flagship _Trenton_, that was then lying in the
harbour. Admiral Dahlgren was in command, and the reception was more of
a tribute to the _prima donna_ than a personal tribute. It was arranged
under the auspices of Lieutenant Emory and Lieutenant Clover; and I did
not sing. Emory was a natural social leader and the whole affair was
perfect in detail. A much more interesting reception, however, arranged
by Lieutenant Emory, was the informal one given me by the same hosts not
long after. Although informal, it was conducted on the same lines of
elegance that marked every social function with which Emory was ever
connected. As soon as we appeared on the gun deck, accompanied by
Lieutenant-Commander Gridley, to be presented to Captain Ramsay, the
orchestra greeted us with the familiar strains of _Hail, Columbia!_ At
the end of the _dejeuner_ the whole crew contemplated us from afar as I
conversed with our hosts, and, realising what might be expected of me, I
sang, as soon as the orchestra had adjusted their instruments, the solo
of Violetta from _Traviata_: _Ah force e lui che l'anima_. As an
_encore_ I sang _Down on the Suwanee River_. The orchestra not being
able to accompany me, I accompanied myself on a banjo that happened to
be handy. I was told afterwards that "the one sweet, familiar plantation
melody was better to us than a dozen Italian cavatinas." After the
_Suwanee River_, I sang yet another negro melody, _The Yaller Gal
Dressed in Blue_, which was received with much appreciative laughter.
On our way from Nice we went to Milan to visit the Exposition, which was
an artistically interesting one, and at which we happened to see the
father and mother of the present King of Italy. From Milan we went to
Aix-les-Bains; and from there to Paris.
I returned to America without an engagement; but on October 5th the
Kellogg Concert Company, under the management of Messrs. Pond and
Bachert, gave the first concert of a series in Music Hall, Boston. I was
supported by Brignoli, the "silver-voiced tenor," Signer Tagliapietra,
and Miss Alta Pease, contralto. With us, also, were Timothie Adamowski,
the Polish violinist; Liebling, the pianist, and the Weber Quartette. My
reception in America, after nearly two years' absence abroad, was,
really, almost an ovation. But I want to say that Boston has always been
particularly gracious and cordial to me. By way of showing how
appreciative was my reception, I cannot resist giving an extract from
the _Boston Transcript_ of the following morning:
Her singing of her opening number, Filina's _Polonaise_ in
_Mignon_, showed at once that she had brought back to us unimpaired
both her voice and her exquisite art; that she is now, as formerly,
the wonderfully finished singer with the absolutely beautiful and
true soprano voice. Her stage experience during the past few years,
singing taxing grand soprano parts, so different and more trying to
the vocal physique than the light florid parts, the Aminas,
Zerlinas, and Elviras, she began by singing, seems to have had no
injurious effect upon the quality and trueness of her voice, which
has ever been fine and delicate; just the sort of beautiful voice
which one would fear to expose to much intense dramatic wear and
tear. Its present perfect purity only proves how much may be dared
by a singer who can trust to a thoroughly good method.
In the following May I sang with Max Strakosch's opera company in
Providence to an exceptionally large audience. One of the daily
newspapers of the city said, in reference to this occasion:
Miss Kellogg must take it as a compliment to herself personally,
for the other artists were unknown here, and therefore it must have
been her name that attracted so many. She has always been popular
here, and has made many personal as well as professional friends.
She must have added many more of the latter last night, for she
never appeared to better advantage. She was well supported by
Signor Giannini as Faust [we gave _Faust_ and I was Marguerite] and
Signor Mancini as Mephistopheles.
This same year, 1882, I went on a concert trip through the South. In New
Orleans I had a peep into the wonderful pawnshops, large, spacious, all
filled with beautiful things. I had long been a collector of pewter and
silver and old furniture and, on this trip, took advantage of some of my
opportunities. For instance, I bought the bureau that had belonged to
Barbara Frietchie, and a milk jug and some spoons that had belonged to
Henry Clay. Also, I visited Libby Prison and various other prisons, a
battle-field, and several cemeteries. One cemetery was half filled with
the graves of boys of seventeen, eighteen, and nineteen years of age,
showing that in the Civil War the South could not have kept it up much
longer. The sight was pitiful!
In 1884 I went on a concert tour with Major Pond in the West, making of
it so far as we could, as Pond said, something of a picnic. We crossed
by the Northern Pacific, seeing, I remember, the ranch of the Duc de
Morney, son of the Duc de Morney who was one of Louis Philippe's
creations, and who had married the daughter of a wealthy ranchman, Baron
von Hoffman. The house of his ancestor in the Champs Elysees and the
house next door that he built for his mistress were points of interest
in Paris when I first went there. In Miles City, on the way to Helena,
Montana, we visited some of the gambling dens, and were interested in
learning that the wildest and worst one in the place was run by a
Harvard graduate. The streets of the town were strangely deserted and
this we did not understand until a woman said to me:
"Umph! they don't show themselves when respectable people come along!"
My memory of the trip and of the Yellowstone Park consists of a series
of strangely beautiful and primitive pictures. We passed through a
prairie fire, when the atmosphere was so hot and dense that extra
pressure of steam was put on our locomotive to rush our train through
it. Never before had I seen Indian women carrying their papooses. I
particularly recall one settlement of wigwams on a still, wonderful
evening, the chiefs gorgeous in their blankets, when the fires were
being lighted and the spirals of smoke were ascending straight up into
the clear atmosphere. One day a couple of Indians ran after the train.
They looked very fine as they ran and finally succeeded in getting on
to the rear platform, where they rode for some distance. At Deer Lodge I
sang all of one evening to two fine specimens of Indian manhood. We went
down the Columbia River in a boat, greatly enjoying the impressive
scenery. One of my most vivid mental impressions was that of an Indian
fisherman, standing high out over the rushing waters, at least forty
feet up, on a projection of some kind that had been built for the
purpose of salmon fishing, his graceful, vigorous bronze form clearly
silhouetted against the background of rock and foliage and sky. On the
banks of the river farther along we saw a circus troupe boiling their
supper in a huge caldron and smoking the _kalama_ or peace pipe. I was
so hungry I wanted to eat of the caldron's contents but, on second
thoughts, refrained. And we stopped at Astoria where the canning of
salmon was done, a town built out over the river on piles. The forest
fires had caused some confusion and, for one while, we could hardly
breathe because of the smoke. Indeed we travelled days and days through
that smoke. The first cowboy I ever saw drove me from the station of
Livingston through Yellowstone Park. In Butte City my company went down
into the Clarke Copper Mine, but I did not care to join them in the
undertaking. Our first sight of Puget Sound was very beautiful. And it
was at Puget Sound that I first saw half-, or, rather, quarter-breeds. I
remember Pond saying how quickly the half-breeds die of consumption.
Later, that same year, I went South again on another concert tour. All
through the State of Mississippi there was a strange, horrible flavour
to the food, I recall, and, so all-pervading was this flavour that
finally I could hardly eat anything. The contralto and I were talking
about it one day on the train and saying how glad we should be to get
away from it. There being no parlour-cars, we were in an ordinary coach,
and a woman who sat in front of me and overheard us, turned around and
said:
"_I_ know what you mean! _I_ can tell you what it is. It's cotton seed.
Everything tastes of cotton seed in this country. They feed their cows
on it, and their chickens. _Everything_ tastes of it; eggs, butter,
biscuits, milk!"
This was true. The only thing, it seems, that could not be raised on
cotton seed was fruit; and unfortunately it was not a fruit season when
I was there.
The recollection of this trip necessitates my saying a little something
of Southern hospitality. I was not satisfied with any of the
arrangements that had been made for me. I had also taken a severe cold,
and, when we reached Charlottesville, where we were to give a concert, I
said I would not go on. This brought matters to a climax. I simply would
not and could not sing in the condition I was; and declared I would not
be subjected to any such treatment at the insistence of the management.
The end of it was that I took my maid and started for New York.
The trip at first promised to be a very uncomfortable one. Travelling
accommodations were poor; food was difficult to obtain, and I was nearly
ill. At one point, where the opening of a new bridge had just taken
place, we stopped, and I noticed a private car attached to our train,
which I coveted. Imagine my gratitude and pleasure, therefore, when the
porter presently came to me and said courteously that "Colonel Cawyter"
sent his compliments and invited me into his private car. I accepted, of
course. But this was not all. As I was making inquiries about train
connections and facilities for food, of one of the gentlemen in the
car, he realised what was before me, and said that I could go to his
home where his wife would care for me. I protested, but he insisted and
gave me his card. When we reached the station, I took a carriage and
drove to the house, where I was received very courteously. It was a
simple household of a mother, grandmother, and children, and they had
already lunched when I got there. But they piled on more coal, and in a
very short time made me a lunch that was simply delicious--all so
easily, simply, and naturally, in spite of the haphazard fashion in
which they seemed to live, as to quite win my admiration. And this
incident of Southern hospitality enabled me to proceed on my way
nourished and restored.
Another incident that I recall was of a similar nature in its
fundamental kindness. I had no money with which to pay for my berth, and
was asking the conductor if there was anyone who would cash a check for
me, when a perfect stranger offered me the amount I needed. At first I
refused, but finally consented to accept the loan in the same spirit in
which it had been offered.
On the reorganised version of this trip we went down into Texas, giving
concerts in Waco, Dallas, Cheyenne, San Antonio, and Galveston, among
other places. This was before the wonderful railroad had been built that
runs for miles through the water; and before the tidal wave that wiped
the old Galveston out of existence. At Cheyenne, I remember, we had to
ford a river to keep our engagement. At Waco a negro was found under the
bed of one of the company; a bridge was burning; and a _posse_ of men,
with bloodhounds, was starting out to track the incendiaries. I remember
speaking there with a negro woman who had a white child in her charge.
The child was busily chewing gum and the woman told me that often the
child would put her hand on her jaw saying, "Oh, I'm _so_ tired!" But
she could not be induced to stop chewing! At Dallas we sang in a hall
that had a tin roof, and, during the concert, a terrific thunderstorm
came on, so that I had to stop singing. This is the only time, I
believe, that the elements ever succeeded in drowning me out. I never
before had seen adobe houses, and I found San Antonio very interesting,
and drove as far as I could along the road of the old Spanish Missions
that maintain the traditions and aspects of the Spanish in the New
World. The Southern theatres are the dirtiest places that can be
imagined; and I recall eating opossum that was served to us with great
pride by my waiter.
From this time on I did not contemplate any long engagements. I did not
care for them, although I sometimes went to places to sing--and to
collect pewter!
I never formally retired from public life, but quietly stopped when it
seemed to me the time had come. It was a Kansas City newspaper reporter
who incidentally brought home to me the fact that I was no longer very
young. I had a few grey hairs, and, after an interview granted to this
representative of the press--a woman, by the way--I found, on reading
the interview in print the next day, that my grey hairs had been
mentioned.
"They'll find that my voice is getting grey next," I said to myself.
I really wanted to stop before everybody would be saying, "You ought to
have heard her sing ten years ago!"
[Illustration: =Carl Strakosch=
From a photograph by H. W. Barnett]
The last time I saw Patti I said to her:
"Adelina, have you got through singing?"
"Oh, I still sing for _mes pauvres_ in London," she replied; but she
didn't explain who were her poor.
On my last western concert tour I sang at Oshkosh. A special train of
three cars on the Central brought down a large delegation for the
occasion from Fond du Lac, Ripon, Neenah and Menasha, Appleton and other
neighbouring towns. The audience was in the best of humour and a
particularly sympathetic one. At the close of the concert I remarked
that it was one of the finest audiences I ever sang to. And I added, by
way of pleasantry, that, having sung at Oshkosh, I was now indeed ready
to leave the stage!
But there were even more serious reasons that influenced me in my
decision, one of which was that my mother had for some time past been in
a poor state of health. More than once, when I went to the theatre, I
had the feeling that she might not be alive when I returned home; and
this was a nervous strain to me that, combined with a severe attack of
bronchitis, brought about a physical condition which might have had
seriously lasting results if I had not taken care of myself in time.
It was not easy to stop. When each autumn came around, it was very
difficult not to go back to the public. I had an empty feeling. There is
no sensation in the world like singing to an audience and knowing that
you have it with you. I would not change my experience for that of any
crowned head. The singer and the actor have, at least, the advantage
over all other artists of a personal recognition of their success;
although, of course, the painter and writer live in their work while the
singer and the actor become only traditions. But such traditions! On
the subject of the actor's traditions Edwin Booth has written:
In the main, tradition to the actor is as true as that which the
sculptor perceives in Angelo, the painter in Raphael, and the
musician in Beethoven.... Tradition, if it be traced through pure
channels and to the fountainhead, leads one as near to Nature as
can be followed by her servant, Art. Whatever Quinn, Barton Booth,
Garrick, and Cooke gave to stagecraft, or as we now term it,
"business," they received from their predecessors; from Betterton
and perhaps from Shakespeare himself, who, though not distinguished
as an actor, well knew what acting should be; and what they
inherited in this way they bequeathed in turn to their art and we
should not despise it. Kean knew without seeing Cooke, who in turn
knew from Macklin, and so back to Betterton, just what to do and
how to do it. Their great Mother Nature, who reiterates her
teachings and preserves her monotone in motion, form, and sound,
taught them. There must be some similitude in all things that are
True!
The traditions of singing are not what they used to be, however, for the
new school of opera does not require great finish, although it does
demand greater dramatic art. It used to be that Tetrazzinis could make
successes through coloratura singing alone; but to-day coloratura
singing has no great hold on the public after the novelty has worn off.
But it does very well in combination with heavier music, as in Mozart's
_Magic Flute_ or _The Huguenots_, and so modern singers have to be both
coloraturists and dramaticists. _A propos_ of singing and methods, I
append a newspaper interview that a reporter had with me in Paris, 1887.
He had been shown a new dinner dress of white _moire_ with ivy leaves
woven into the tissue, and writes:
[Illustration: =Letter from Edwin Booth to Clara Louise Kellogg=]
I examined the rustling treasure critically and decided it was a
complete success. The train was long, the stuff rich, the taste
perfect, and yet--the great essential was wanting. I could not but
reflect on the transformation which would come over that regal robe
were it once hung on the shapely shoulders of the famous _prima
donna_.
"You see, there is nothing like singing to fill out dresses where
they should be filled out, and conversely," said Sbriglia, who
happened to be present as we came back into the _salon_;
"consequently my advice to all ladies who wish to improve their
figure is to take vocal lessons."
"Yes," agreed Miss Kellogg, "if they can only find right
instruction. But, unfortunately good teachers nowadays are rarer
than good voices. Even the famous Paris Conservatory doesn't
contain good vocal instruction. If there be any teaching in the
world which is thoroughly worthless, it is precisely that given in
the Rue Bergere. But I cannot do justice to the subject. Do give us
your ideas, Professor, about the Paris Conservatory and the French
School of voice culture."
"As to any French vocal school," replied Sbriglia, "there is none.
Each professor has a system of his own that is only less bad than
the system of some rival professor. One man tells you to breathe up
and down and another in and out. One claims that the musical tones
are formed in the head, while another locates them in the throat.
And when these gentlemen receive a fresh, untrained voice, their
first care is to split it up into three distinct parts which they
call registers, and for the arrangement of which they lay down
three distinct sets of rules.
"As to the Conservatory, it is a national disgrace; and I have no
hesitation in saying that it not only does no good, but is actually
the means of ruining hundreds of fine voices. Look at the results.
It is from the Conservatory that the Grand Opera chooses its French
singers, and the simple fact is that in the entire _personnel_
there are no great French artists. There are artists from Russia,
Italy, Germany and America, but there are none from France. And
yet the most talented students of the Conservatory make their
_debuts_ there every year with fine voices and brilliant prospects;
but, as a famous critic has well said, 'after singing for three
years under the system which they have been taught, they acquire a
perfect "style" and lose their voice.'
"You ask me what I consider to be the correct method. I dislike
very much the use of the word 'method,' because it seems to imply
something artificial; whereas in all the vocal processes, there is
only a single logical method and that is the one taught us all by
nature at our birth. Watch a baby crying. How does he breathe?
Simply by pushing the abdomen forward, thus drawing air into the
lungs, to fill the vacuum produced, and then bringing it back
again, which expels the air. And every one breathes that way,
except certain advocates of theoretical nonsense, who have learned
with great difficulty to exactly reverse this operation. Such
singers make a bellows of the chest, instead of the abdomen, and,
as the strain to produce long sounds is evidently greater in
forcing the air out than in simply drawing it in, their inevitable
tendency is to unduly contract the chest and to distend the
abdomen."
"Let me give you an illustration of the truth of M. Sbriglia's
argument," said Miss Kellogg, rising from her seat. "Now watch me
as I utter a musical note." And immediately the rich voice that has
charmed so many thousands filled the apartment with a clear
"a-a-a-a" as the note grew in volume.
"You see Miss Kellogg has little to fear from consumption!"
exclaimed Sbriglia. "And I am convinced that invalids with
disorders of the chest would do well to stop taking drugs and study
the art of breathing and singing."
"And even those who have no voice," said Miss Kellogg, "would by
this means not only improve in health and looks, but would also
learn to read and speak correctly, for the same principles apply to
all the vocal processes. It is astonishing how few people use the
voice properly. For instance I could read in this tone all the
afternoon without fatigue, but if I were to do this" (making a
perceptible change in the position of her head), "I should begin to
cough before finishing a column. Don't you notice the difference?
In the one case the sounds come from here" (touching her chest)
"and are free and musical; but in the other, I seem to speak in my
throat, and soon feel an irritation there which makes me want the
traditional glass of sugar and water."
"The irritation which accompanies what you call 'speaking in the
throat,'" explained Sbriglia, "is caused by pressing too hard upon
the vocal cords, that become, in consequence, congested with blood,
instead of remaining white as they should be. Persons who have this
habit grow hoarse after very brief vocal exertion, and it is
largely for that reason that American men rarely make fine singers.
On the other hand, look at Salvini, who, by simply knowing how to
place his voice, is able to play a tremendous part like Othello
without the slightest sense of fatigue.
"About the American 'twang'? Oh, no, it does not injure the voice.
On the contrary, this nasal peculiarity, especially common among
your women, is of positive value in a proper production of certain
tones."
CODA
The Coda in music is, literally, the tail of the composition, the
finishing off of the piece. The influence of Wagner did away with the
Coda: yet, as my place in the history of opera is that of an exponent of
the Italian rather than the German form, I feel that a Coda, or a last
few words of farewell, is admissible.
In some ways the Italian opera of my day seems banal. Yet Italian opera
is not altogether the thing of the past that it is sometimes supposed to
be. More and more, I believe, is it coming back into public favour as
people experience a renewed realisation that melody is the perfect
thing, in art as in life. I believe that _Mignon_ would draw at the
present time, if a good cast could be found. But it would be difficult
to find a good cast.
Italian opera did what it was intended to do:--it showed the art of
singing. It was never supposed to be but an accompaniment to the
orchestra as German opera often is; an idea not very gratifying to a
singer, and sometimes not to the public. Yet we can hardly make
comparisons. Personally, I like German opera and many forms of music
beside the Italian very much, even while convinced of the fact that
German critics are not the whole audience. At least, the opera could not
long be preserved on them alone.
[Illustration: ="Elpstone"=
New Hartford, Connecticut]
It seems to me as I look back over the preceding pages that I have put
into them all the irrelevant matter of my life and left out much that
was important. Many of my dearest _roles_ I have forgotten to mention,
and many of my most illustrious acquaintances I have omitted to honour.
But when one has lived a great many years, the past becomes a good deal
like an attic: one goes there to hunt for some particular thing, but the
chances are that one finds anything and everything except what one went
to find. So, out of my attic, I have unearthed ever so many unimportant
heirlooms of the past, leaving others, perhaps more valuable and more
interesting, to be eaten by moths and corrupted by rust for all time.
There is very little more for me to say. I do not want to write of my
last appearances in public. Even though I did leave the operatic stage
at the height of my success, there is yet something melancholy in the
end of anything. As Richard Hovey says:
There is a sadness in all things that pass;
We love the moonlight better for the sun,
And the day better when the night is near.
The last look on a place where we have dwelt
Reveals more beauty than we dreamed before,
When it was daily ...
In our big, young country of America there are the possibilities of many
another singer greater than I have been. I shall be proud and grateful
if the story of my high ambitions, hard work, and kindly treatment
should chance to encourage one of these. For, while it is true that
there is nothing that should be chosen less lightly than an artistic
career, it is also true that, having chosen it, there is nothing too
great to be given up for it. I have no other message to give; no further
lesson to teach. I have lived and sung, and, in these memories, have
tried to tell something of the living and the singing: but when I seek
for a salient and moving word as a last one, I find that I am dumb. Yet
I feel as I used to feel when I sang before a large audience. Somewhere
out in the audience of the world there must be those who are in
instinctive sympathy with me. My thoughts go wandering toward them as,
long ago, my thoughts would wander toward the unknown friends sitting
before me in the theatre and listening. So poignant is this sense within
me that, halting as my message may have been, I feel quite sure that
somehow, here and there, some one will hear it, responsive in the
heart.
INDEX
Abbott, Emma, in _Camille_, 70;
meeting with, 272-275; 320
Academy of Music, the, _debut_ of Kellogg at, 33;
stage conditions at, 37;
director of, 40;
winter season at, 91;
benefit at, 92;
return to, 201; 258, 259, 263
Adam, Mme., 304
Adamowski, Timothie, 358
Adams, Charles, 298
Adams, Maud, in _Joan of Arc_, 66
Aida, 292, 301, 302, 307
Albani, Mme., 235
Albertini, 294
Albites, suggestion of, 102
Alboni, Mme., Rovere and, 94;
anecdote of, 175
Aldrich, Thomas Bailey, 47, 48
Alexander, John, 281
Amina, the _role_ of, 64;
the opera of, 65;
Murska as, 296
Amodio, 13;
personal appearance of, 14;
in _Don Giovanni_, 74
Amonasro, 307
Andrede, Joseph, 300
Annetta, 91;
contrast between Marguerite and, 93;
Malibran as, 94;
Grisi as, 94;
Kellogg as, 93, 94, 96
Anschutz, _Faust_ and, 78
Appleton, Tom, 46, 47
Arditi, 135, 138, 162-164, 168, 171, 173
Armitage, Sir George, 195-198
Association, Peace Jubilee, 235
Azucena, 249
Babcock, William, 7
Bachert, Pond and, 358
Balfe, 261, 262
_Ballo in Maschera_, 55, 62, 329, 338
Banjo, first mention of, 8;
music of, 9;
old man and the, 217, 218;
accompaniment of, 358
_Barbiere, Il_, realistic performance of, 38; 56, 91, 97, 167, 277
Barbizon School, 306
Barlow, Judge Peter, 102
Barlow, Mrs. Samuel, 276-279
Bateman concerts, 101
Beecher, Henry Ward, 214
Beethoven, 78;
Jubilee, 209;
Okakura and music of, 219;
reference to, 366
Behrens, Siegfried, 263, 264, 267
Bellini, 54;
traditions of, 67;
music of, 80
Benedict, Sir Jules, 6, 197, 261, 262
Bennett, James Gordon, 251, 303
Bennett, Mr., 164, 174, 238
Bentinck, Mrs. Cavendish, 190
Bernhardt, 208
_Beware_, Longfellow and, 46;
singing of, 175, 178, 197
Bey, Khalil, 156, 157
Biachi as Mephistopheles, 86
Bianchi, Mlle., 329
Bierstadt, Albert, 160
Bizet, 305
Black, Valentine, 305
_Boheme, La_, 91
_Bohemian Girl, The_, 257, 259
Booth, Edwin, letter from, 16;
on stage traditions, 366
Booth, Wilkes, 111
Borde, Mme. de la, in _Les Huguenots_, 13;
voice of, 13
Borgia, Lucretia, Grisi as, 159
Bososio, Mlle., as Prascovia, 102
Boucicault, Dion, 15, 262
Brignoli, 13, 14;
tour with, 22;
temper of, 22, 23;
origin of, 24;
mascot of, 24, 165;
point of view of, 24;
anecdote of, 25;
death of, 25;
in _I Puritani_, 29;
in opera with, 36;
difficulties with, 41;
in Boston with, 44;
farewell performance for, 64;
Americanisation of, 71;
in _Poliuto_, 72;
Gottschalk and, 107;
mention of, 294, 358
Brougham, John, 15
Bulow, Von, 298
Burnett, Mrs. Frances Hodgson, 281
Burroughs, John, reference to, 288
Butterfly, Madame, 255
Cabanel, 306
Cable, George, 281
Callender, May, 276, 277
Calve, 81;
as Carmen, 291
_Camille_, Matilda Heron in, 15;
public attitude toward, 69;
mention of, 70;
libretto of, 135
Campanini, Italo, 236, 237, 261, 295
Capoul, 184, 236, 237, 295
Carlton, William, 258-261, 265, 268, 275;
Marie Roze and, 290
Carmen, 73, 91;
Minnie Hauck as, 102;
Kellogg in, 231, 236;
in English, 254;
Marie Roze as, 290;
the _role_ of, 291;
Calve as, 291;
music of, 305
Carvalho, Mme. Miolan-, 77;
wig of, 82, 140;
as Marguerite, 84
Cary, Annie Louise, 193;
Kellogg and, 289, 292-294, 298, 304
_Castille, The Rose of_, 257
Castle, 257, 269, 270
Catherine, in _Star of the North_, 102;
jewels for, 104;
incident when singing, 267
Chatelet, Theatre, 140
Christina, ex-Queen, 143, 144
Clarke, James Freeman, 50
Clarkson, Bishop, 300
Clover, Lieutenant, 357
Club, Stanley, 305
Colson, Pauline, tour with, 22;
advice of, 26;
example in costuming of, 27;
illness of, 27
Combermere, Viscountess, 125;
anecdote of, 128
Comedie Francaise, 15
Concerts, private, 168;
Buckingham Palace, 179-186, 302;
Benedict's, 197;
tours, 200-203, 208, 227-230;
trials of, 232-234;
in Russia, 346
Conklin, Ellen, effect of slavery on, 58, 59
Conly, George, 256, 258, 275
Connaught, Duke of, 183, 184
Contessa, incident in Titjien's _role_ of, 169, 170, 239
Cook, W. H., 124
Coquelin, 304
Costa, Sir Michael, 169, 170, 194, 238, 267
Cotogni, 235, 337
Coulsen, 294
Crinkle, Nym, _see_ Wheeler
_Crispino e la Comare_, 91, 94;
Cobbler in, 94;
mention of, 97, 249
_Curiose, Le Donne_, 91
Cushman, Charlotte, attendance at theatre by, 33;
evening in Boston with, 50, 52;
in Rome with, 160;
as Queen Katherine, 270, 271
Cusins, 176, 178
Custer, 57, 58
Czar, the, Ronconi and, 95;
daughter of, 182, 183;
signature of, 335;
physician of, 337;
Nihilists and, 338, 343;
mourning of, 342;
sight of, 350, 351;
assassination of, 354, 355
Dahlgren, Admiral, 183, 357
_Dame Blanche, La_, 96
D'Angri, 13
_Daniel Deronda_, quotation from, 315-316
Davidson, 167, 190, 195
Davis, Jefferson, at West Point, 19;
son of, 19;
wife of, 20
Davis, Will, 256
Debussy, 79
Deland, Conly as, 258
de Reszke, Jean, in _L'Africaine_, 40;
Sbriglia and, 313, 314
de Reszke, Josephine, 306
_Diavolo, Fra_, 16, 91;
benefit performance of, 92, 93;
fondness for, 97;
scenes from, 159;
Lucca in, 174, 249;
Conly in, 256;
mention of, 261;
Habelmann as, 269
Dickens, house of, 241
Donizetti, 56;
opera of _Betly_ by, 68;
_Poliuto_ by, 71;
music of, 80
Donna Anna, _role_ of, 74, 137;
Titjiens as, 169, 170, 173;
Kellogg as, 249
Doria, Clara, 246
Douglass, William, 126, 203
Duc de Morney, 360
Dudley, Lord, 189
Dufferin, Lord and Lady, 353
Dukas, 79
Duse, 208
_Dutchman, The Flying_, 257, 258, 263-265
Eames, Mme., 83
Edinburgh, Duchess of, 182, 183
Edward, Miss, 121, 137
Ehn, Mme., 329
Elssler, Fanny, 330
Elvira, Donna, 137, 170, 173
Emerson, 45, 221
Emory, Lieutenant, 357
_Ernani_, Patti in, 148, 155
Errani, 11
Eugenie, Empress, 149, 150
Evans, Dr., 150
Fabri, Count, 244
Falstaff, 91
Farragut, Admiral, 157, 158
Farrar, Geraldine, as Marguerite, 81, 83, 89
Faure, 145, 147, 178, 179, 184, 235, 323
_Faust_, first suggestion of Kellogg in, 40;
anecdote about, 46;
public attitude toward, 68;
decision of Maretzek about, 75;
on the Continent, 77;
criticism of 78;
estimate of 79;
early effect on public of, 81, 89;
Alice Neilson in 82;
_Poliuto_ and, 88;
liberties with score of, 88, 89;
Santley in, 132;
French treatment of, 140;
in America, 240;
mention of, 244, 307;
Lucca in, 249, 250;
Carlton in, 260;
Drury Lane and, 132, 135, 137, 162, 174, 189, 261;
Mike and, 266;
Emma Abbott in, 274;
testimonial, 298;
libretto of, 333;
mention of, 359
Fechter, Mr., 168
Federici as Marguerite, 80
Felina, 251-253, 331, 358
Ferri, tour with, 22;
as Rigoletto, 33;
blindness of, 33, 41
Fidelio, Titjiens as, 169
Field, Eugene, 271
Field, Mrs. Marshall, 279
Fields, James T., home of, 45;
anecdote of, 46;
friends of, 47, 48;
opinion of "copy" of Mrs. Stowe, 49;
hospitality of, 50;
letter to, 89
Fioretti, 195
Fischoff, 326, 332
Flotow, opera of _Martha_ by, 73
Flute, playing of, 2;
Lanier and, 51;
Wagner's use of, 52
_Flute, The Magic_, 74, 146, 366;
song from _The Star_ in, 173
Foley, Walter, 131, 167, 236
Foster, Mr., 338, 339
Franceschetti, 322
Frapoli, 299
_Freischuetz, Der_, 254
French, art of the, 140
Fursch-Nadi, 310
Gaiety, 93, 94;
Italian, 160
Gannon, Mary, 15
Garden, Covent, 129, 135, 167, 171, 172, 178, 194-196, 235
Garden, Mary, artistic spirit of, 40;
English opera and, 255
_Gazza Ladra, La_, 166-168, 173
Gazzaniga, Mme., 294
Gerster, 303, 329
Giatano, Nita, 242, 243
Gilda, study of the _role_ of, 29;
appearance in, 34, 35, 63;
comparison with Marguerite of, 79;
Kellogg as, 81
Gilder, Jeannette, 193, 280, 282;
Ellen Terry and, 283
Gilder, Richard Watson, 192, 219, 221;
Mrs., 279, 281;
studio of, 280-282
Gilder, Rodman, 281
Gilder, William H., 280
Gilmore, Patrick, 309
_Giovanni, Don_, 62;
under Grau in, 74;
at Her Majesty's, 137, 167, 170, 173, 174, 197, 198;
mention of, 249, 296, 342
Godard, 305
Goddard, Mr., 190
Goethe, 254
Goodwin, 168, 197
_Goetterdaemmerung, Die_, 91
Gottschalk, 106, 107, 295
Gounod, new opera by, 75;
as revolutionist, 78, 79;
mention of, 132;
reference to, 133;
in London, 140, 240-244;
Gounod, Madame, 243
Grange, Mme. de la, in _Les Huguenots_, 13;
in _Sonnambula_, 38;
in _The Star of the North_, 102
Grant, General, in Chicago, 114, 115;
President and Mrs., 266
Grau, Maurice, 67;
_Traviata_ and, 69;
in Boston with, 74, 258, 259;
mention of, 300;
Opera House, 307
Greeley, Horace, funeral of, 209
Greenough, Lillie, 277
Gridley, Lieutenant-Commander, 357
Grisi, opportunity to hear, 14;
opera costumier and, 85;
as Annetta, 94;
family of, 158;
story of, 159
Grove, Sir George, 262
Gye, Mr., 129, 135, 171, 172
Habelmann, Theodor, in _Fra Diavolo_, 96, 269, 270
Hall, Dr. John, 300
Hamilton, Sir Frederick, 342
Hamilton, Gail, 50
Hamlet, in French, 141;
Nilsson in, 145;
Faure as, 147;
McCullough as, 282;
mad scene in, 292, 329
Handel, Festival, 172;
_Messiah_ of, 209;
and Haydn Society, 298
Hanslick, Dr., 195;
complimented by, 329-331
Harrington, Earl of, 126;
ice-box of, 127;
daughter of, 127;
at the opera, 198
Harte, Bret, niece of, 319
Hauck, Minnie, as Prascovia, 102, 103;
characterisation of, 103;
mention of, 303
Haute, M. De la, 159
Hawaii, King of, 266
Hawthorne, Julian, 49
Hawthorne, Nathaniel, 48
_Helene, La Belle_, 254
Heron, Matilda, 15
Hess, C. D., 256-259;
benefit of Kellogg, 275
Heurtly, Mrs., 190
Hinckley, Isabella, 41;
in _Il Barbiere_, 56;
in _Betly_, 68
Hissing, custom of, in Spain, 145
Hoey, Mrs. John, 15
Hoffman, Baron, 329, 330
Holmes, Oliver Wendell, 46;
breakfasts with, 52;
opinion of English women of, 53
Hosmer, Harriet, 160
Howe, Julia Ward, 46, 49, 61
Huger, General Isaac, son of, 18, 57
_Huguenots, Les_, 91, 174, 295, 366
_Iago_, 307
Irving, Henry, great strength of, 40;
repose of, 234, 248;
first meeting with, 282;
complaint of, 284;
reforms of, 284, 285
Jackson, Helen Hunt, 281
Jaffray, E. S., 322
Jarrett, 120, 162, 163;
daughter of, 163, 164, 168, 173, 198;
Colonel Stebbins and, 173;
Gounod and, 241;
mention of, 249, 250, 251, 252, 253, 294, 300, 331
Jerome, Leonard, 188
Johnston, Sir Alan, 353
Jordan, Jules, 206, 207
Juliet, saying of Modjeska about, 70;
Patti as, 194, 198;
Romeo and, 240;
Gounod and, 244
Karl, Tom, 298
Katherine, Queen, 270, 271
Keene, Laura, 15
Kellogg, Clara Louise, first appearance of, 6;
description as a child of, 7;
dress of, 8, 25, 26, 39, 40, 70, 84, 85, 135, 136, 137, 210, 265, 347;
Muzio and, 11, 12, 13;
early singers heard by, 13;
histrionic skill of, 15, 16;
resemblance to Rachel of, 16;
_debut_ as Gilda of, 33;
as Marguerite, 40, 75-92;
hospitalities toward, 44, 45, 93, 100, 101, 278, 279, 362, 363;
wig of, 82-84;
in Opera Comique, 91-98;
jewelry of, 93, 104, 105, 298;
as Flower Prima Donna, 103, 202;
Lucca and, 245-252;
in English Opera, 254-270;
favourite flower of; 266;
in "Three Graces" Tour, 289-304
Kellogg, George, flute of, 2;
failure of, 9;
Irish servants and, 61;
in New Hartford with, 67;
story of, 231
Keppel, Colonel, 133
Korbay, Francis, 219
Krauss, 307
Kuester, Baron, 338
La Farge, John, 219, 221, 280
_L'Africaine_, de Reszke in, 40;
Lucca in, 249;
Masini in, 341
Lang, 190, 198
Lanier, Sidney, 50;
anecdote of, 51
Lascelle, 306
Lawrence, Alberto, 258
_Lecouvreur, Adrienne_, 282
Leonora, Marie Willt as, 152;
Lucca as, 179;
Morgan and, 269
Le Page, Bastien, 281
Leporello, Rockitanski as, 170
_Le Roi de Lahore_, 306
Librettos, inartistic, 255;
Emma Abbott and, 274;
texts of, 332
Liebling, 358
_Lily o'Killarney_, 261, 262
Lincoln, Abraham, call for volunteers by, 54;
anecdote of, 110;
death of, 111;
lying-in-state of, 112-114, 118
Lind, Jenny, 5, 6, 294
Linda di Chamounix, first public appearance of Kellogg in, 25;
Boston's attitude toward, 36;
origin of, 36;
story of, 36, 37;
costuming of, 38, 39;
Susini, in, 42;
Mme. Medori as, 42;
Kellogg in Boston as, 43, 50, 54, 62;
teaching of, 63;
comparison with Marguerite of, 79;
_Clara Louise Polka_ and, 88;
Patti in, 129;
mention of, 132, 249;
at Her Majesty's, 135, 167, 236, 238
Liszt, saying of, 234
Littlejohn, Bishop, 300
_Lohengrin_, 292
Longfellow, 46, 47;
poems of, 46, 47;
anecdote of, 47;
letter by, 89;
reference to, 221
Lorenzo, Conly as, 256
Loveday, Mme., 261
Lowell, 46, 47
Lucca, Pauline, Piccolomini's resemblance to, 14;
travelling of, 28;
as Marguerite, 82;
in _Fra Diavolo_, 174;
at rehearsal, 178, 179;
at Buckingham Palace, 184, 185;
at Covent Garden, 196, 235;
in America, 240;
Kellogg and, 245-250;
as Mignon, 251;
mention of, 294, 329
Lucia, Patti in, 15, 62;
comparison with Linda of, 73;
standing of, 73;
Kellogg in Chicago as, 113, 237;
_role_ of, 292;
Kellogg as, 329
Maas, Joseph, 256-258, 261
Macci, Victor, opera by, 68
Macmillan, Lady, 284
Maddox, 194, 195, 246, 247
Maeterlinck, Mme., saying of, 103
Malibran, 94
Manchester, Consuelo, Duchess of, 184
Mancini, 359
Mansfield, Richard, mother of, 165
Manzocchi, 11
Mapleson, Col. J. M., 120, 139, 162, 166, 168, 170, 171, 173, 174, 198,
200, 235, 236, 241, 301, 302
Mapleson, Henry, 289, 290, 292-294, 303
Maretzek, Max, at the Academy, 40;
during the war, 55;
decision with regard to _Faust_ of, 75, 77, 78;
Colonel Stebbins and, 85;
Mazzoleni and, 86;
_Faust_ and, 87, 88;
benefit custom and, 91, 92, 119;
in Philadelphia with, 201;
saying of, 215;
management of, 240
Marguerite, interpretation of, 42;
estimate of, 80-84, 333;
Nilsson as, 82, 129;
costume
of, 84, 85;
Patti as, in France, 140, 141;
reference to, 243, 263;
Lucca as, 249, 250;
Kellogg as, 359
_Maria de Rohan_, Rovere in, 95
Mario, Grisi and, 14;
mention of, 147, 167, 185, 195, 196
Martha, 62, 73, 74;
comparison with Marguerite of, 79;
_Faust_ and, 88;
as Opera Comique, 91;
at Her Majesty's, 135;
Nilsson as, 145;
Kellogg as, 249, 261, 329
Martin, Mrs., 202-207
Masaniello, 96
Masini, 338, 340, 341
Materna, Mme., 329, 331
Matthews, Brander, wife of, 69;
reception by father of, 100, 101
Maurel, 141, 295, 306, 307
Mazzoleni as Faust, 86, 87
McCook, Alec, 18, 57
McCreary, Lieutenant, 18, 57
McCullough, John, 282, 300
McHenry, 143, 145, 148, 158, 167, 190, 197, 198
McKenzie, Sir Edward, 190, 300, 301
McVickar, Commodore, 121, 126
Medori, Mme., as Linda, 42;
in Don Giovanni, 74
_Meister, Wilhelm_, 251, 252
_Meistersinger, Die_, 91
Melodies, negro, 1, 9, 117, 146, 305, 357
Menier, Chocolat, 243, 309
Meyerbeer, 90;
craze for, 101;
a song of, 102;
son-in-law of, 328
Mignon, effect on audience of, 59;
Polonaise from, 183, 229, 305, 358;
Lucca and Kellogg in, 251;
in English, 257, 260;
Cary as, 293;
cast of, 298;
Kellogg as, 329, 330, 331;
reference to, 370
Mike, 266
Millet, 11;
son of, 282
Mind, sub-conscious, 13;
workings of the, 35, 169, 216
Minstrels, negro, 8
Mireille, 240, 243
Mistral, 240
Modjeska, Helena, in _Adrienne_
_Lecouvreur_, 59;
in Camille 69;
saying of, 70;
Okakura and, 281;
Kellogg and, 282, 283;
custom of, 352
Moncrieff, Mrs., 243
Morelli, 294
Morgan, Wilfred, 258, 259, 269
Mother, first mention of, 2, 3, 4;
attitude toward theatre of, 30, 31;
presence at performance of Gilda of, 35;
in Boston with, 44, 52;
in New Hartford with, 67;
_Faust_ and, 81;
character of, 108;
anecdote of, 128;
in England, 137;
in Paris, 139, 143;
diary of, 154-157, 163, 164, 166-168, 173, 174, 178, 197, 198, 308, 326;
mention of, 186, 188, 190, 194, 195, 200, 252, 259, 286, 304, 307, 334;
Eugene Field and, 271;
in Russia, 349, 352-356;
health of, 365
Moulton, melody of _Beware_ by, 175
Moulton, Mrs., 277
Mowbray, J. P., _see_ Wheeler
Mozart, operas of, 74;
English and, 136;
_arias_ of, 146;
with Titjiens in operas of, 169;
all-star casts of, 170;
music of, 366
Munkacsy, 219
Murska, Mlle., Ilma de, 296
Muzio, 11;
appearance of, 12;
opinion of, 17;
concert tour of Kellogg with, 22;
Italian traditions and, 66;
concert tour under, 72;
polka by, 88
Napoleon III, 148, 149
Negroes, treatment of, 58;
in New York during the war, 60;
discussions regarding the, 60;
anti-negro riots, 323
Neilson, Adelaide, 247
Neilson, Alice, in _Faust_, 82
Nevin, 322
Newcastle, Duchess of, 184, 188, 197
Newcastle, Duke of, 100, 125;
in box of, 146, 167, 168, 173, 174, 188, 189, 191, 192;
pin of the, 193, 194, 197, 198, 235
Newson, 6, 7
Nicolini, 130, 148, 184, 185
Night, Queen of the, Nilsson as, 146
Nilsson, Christine, as Marguerite, 82;
in London, 129, 131, 132, 137, 169, 173, 235;
as Martha, 145;
voice of, 146, 147;
superstition of, 165, 166;
in opera with, 169;
Sir Michael Costa and, 170;
at Buckingham Palace, 184;
friend of, 190;
reference to, 196, 239, 252, 261, 294, 295, 326, 329
_Noces de Jeannette, Les_, 29, 62;
libretto of, 68
Nordica, Lillian, 309, 310;
Nevin's song and, 322;
in Russia with, 337, 341, 347, 348
Norma, Grisi as, 158;
reference to, 252
_Nozze di Figaro, Le_, 170, 171, 174, 197, 198, 249, 261
_Oh, had I Jubal's Lyre!_ 172
Okakura, 219-222, 281
Oldenburg, Prince, 346
Olin, Mrs. Stephen Henry, 276, 277
_Opera, The Beggar's_, 258
Opera bouffe, 90
Opera comique, 90, 91, 97;
of Paris, 236
Opera, traditions of, 12, 77, 79, 263, 277;
necessities of, 34;
effect of war on, 55, 56;
houses in America for, 68;
early customs of, 84;
innovations of, 87;
benefit custom of, 91;
Her Majesty's, 120, 129, 136, 171, 178, 235;
French, 140, 141;
English, 254-258, 260-303;
translations of, 255, 256, 260, 261;
Strakosch and, 303;
Imperial, 326;
in Petersburg, 334-342;
preparation for, 367;
province of Italian, 370
Ophelia, Modjeska as, 282;
Kellogg as, 293
Othello, Salvini as, 283;
in Munich 307
Oudin, Eugene, 277
Oxenford, 262
Palace, Buckingham, 176-179;
concerts at, 179-186, 302
Palace, Crystal, 172, 174, 209
Palmer, Anna, 11
Paloma, La, 249
Parker, Minnie, 276, 277
Parodi, 294
_Pasquale, Don_, 96
Patey, Mme., 174
Patti, Adelina, 5;
early appearance of, 15;
as Marguerite, 82;
voice of, 129, 130, 132, 323;
in London 77, 129, 132, 135, 184, 185, 195-198, 235;
sister of, 129;
in Paris with, 308;
comparison with, 330;
questioning of, 365
Patti, Carlotta, 295
_Paul and Virginia_, 295
Peakes, 257
Pease, Miss Alta, 358
Pergolese, opera of _La Serva Padrona_ by, 14
Peto, Sir Morton, banquet of, 99
Petrelli, 272
Petrovitch, 338
Phillips, Adelaide, as Maddalena, 41;
as Pierotto, 41, 248
Photography, new effects in, 208
Piccolomini, 14, 74
Pinchot, Gifford, sister of, 353
Pine, Louisa, 13
Pitch, absolute, 4, 165, 267;
standard of, 231
Plancon, 312
Plantagenet, Lady Edith, 297
_Poliuto_, 62;
plot of, 71;
_Faust_ and, 88
_Polka, Clara Louise_, 88
Pond, Major, 360, 361
Pope Pius IX., 160
Porter, Ella, 11;
in Paris, 84
Porter, General Horace, 19, 20, 57
Prascovia, Minnie Hauck as, 102, 103
Press, criticisms of the, 27, 35, 39, 42, 68, 70, 75, 78, 88, 89, 94,
97, 133, 135, 164, 200, 211, 215, 239, 240, 250, 252, 256, 258, 271,
279, 291, 358;
standing of the, 328;
in Vienna, 331;
censorship in Russia of the, 336;
interview, 366
Public, English, 136, 194, 237;
American, 229, 230, 238;
rival factions of the, 250;
characteristics of the, 264, 296;
Petersburg, 339;
Boston, 358;
charm of the, 365, 372
_Puritani, I_, Brignoli in, 29;
Kellogg in, 54, 62, 63
Quinn, Dr., 168, 191, 235
Rachel, 16
Racine, 306
Rampolla, Cardinal, 161
Ramsay, Captain, 357
Ramsay, Col., 300
Randegger, 195
Rathbone, General, 300
Reed, Miss Fanny, in Boston, 45;
in New York, 277, 278
Reeves, Sims, 174, 175
_Reggimento, La Figlia del_, 56, 58, 62;
at close of Civil War, 114;
Lucca in, 249
Renaud in opera, 40, 265
Rice brothers, 94
_Rigoletto_, 29, 34, 36;
opinion of Boston of, 36;
origin of, 36, 62;
meaning of, 81, 167;
Masini as, 341
Ristori, 16
Rivarde, 11
_Robert le Diable_, 86, 201, 332
Robertson, Agnes, 15
Robertson, Madge (Mrs. Kendall), 284
Robin, Theodore, 304-306
Rockitanski, 170
Ronalds, Mrs. Peter, 276, 277, 279
Ronconi, 94;
The Czar and, 95;
in _Fra Diavolo_, 95;
anecdote of, 96
Rosa, Carl, 101
Rosa, Euphrosyne Parepa, 101, 209, 262
Rosina, 91, 93, 96, 97, 137
Rossini, 13, 97;
reference to, 133;
English and, 136;
traditions of, 277;
Nordica and, 310
Rossmore, Lady, 192, 198
Rota, 261
Rothschild, Baron Alfred de, 194, 198, 235
Rovere, 94
Roze, Marie, 236, 261, 289, 290, 292, 293, 298
Rubenstein, 246, 248
Rudersdorf, Mme. Erminie, 165
Ryan, Mr., 305
Ryloff, 269
_Salome_, suppression of, 69, 254
Salvini, 283
Sampson, Mr., 190, 198
Sandford, Wright, 126, 203
Santley, Ronconi and, 95;
as Valentine, 132;
kindness of, 134;
as Almaviva, 137, 167, 168, 170, 173, 174, 184, 198
Sanz, 248, 249
Sargent, 281
Sbriglia, 310-313;
Jean de Reszke and, 313, 314, 367-369
Scalchi, Sofia, 172, 185;
in Petersburg, 337
Scarborough, Bishop, 300
Scola, lessons in acting from, 29, 38
Scott, Sir Walter, 261
Sebasti, 161
Seguin, Stella, 257, 258
Seguin, Ted, 258
Sembrich, Marcella, 337
Semiramide, 171, 277, 342
Senta, 263-265, 292
_Serenade, The Persian_, 223
Shakespeare in music, 141
Sherman, General, in Chicago, 114
Siebel, Miss Sulzer as, 87
Singing, methods of, 5;
Grisi and, 158, 159;
_prime donne_ and, 231;
early, 307;
Nordica and, 310;
Sbriglia and, 311-321, 367-369;
traditions of, 366
Sinico, Mme., 137
Sinnett, A. P., 189
Slezak, 312
Smith, Mark, 246
Society, Arion, 206
Somerset, Duchess of, 121-124;
letters by, 125;
beadwork of, 126, 137, 144, 197, 168, 188, 197
_Sonnambula, La_, 54, 62-64;
teaching of, 65, 66;
_aria_ from 67;
Murska in, 296
Sonnenthal, 330
Southern, the elder, 15
Spofford, Harriet Prescott, 50
_Stabat Mater_, 310
Stackpoole, Major, 192, 197, 198
Stage, attitude toward, 11;
Italian attitude toward, 12;
English precedent of, 12;
superstitions of, 24, 36, 165;
primitive conditions of, 25, 27, 28, 37, 38, 87;
in France, 140
Stanley, 189
_Star of the North, The_, 102;
flute song of, 173;
in English, 257, 266;
quartette in, 267
_Star, The Evening_, 230
Stebbins, Colonel Henry G., 10;
daughters of, 11;
home of, 16;
sister of, 33;
_Faust_ and, 85;
in England, 122-124, 137;
in Scotland, 131;
in France, 155, 158;
daughter of, 160;
friendship of, 171, 173, 174, 197, 198
Stevens, Mrs. Paran, in Boston, 44, 45, 278;
sister of, 277
Stewart, Jules, 306
Stigelli, 33, 71, 294
Stowe, Harriet Beecher, 46, 49
Strakosch, Maurice, 130, 148;
Napoleon and, 149;
at Covent Garden with, 194, 198;
Patti and, advice of, 294;
methods of, 302
Strakosch, Max, 200, 201, 204, 205, 240, 289, 292, 294-296, 300, 303, 359
Strauss, 79, 254
Sulzer, Miss, 87
_Summer, The Last Rose of_, 135
Susanna, Kellogg as, 170, 240
Susini, name of, 22;
as the Baron in _Linda_, 41;
wife of, 41;
sense of humour of, 42;
salute of Grant and Sherman by, 115;
mention of, 294
Tadema, Alma, 191
Tagliapietra, 358
_Talisman, The_, 261, 297
Talleyrand, Marquis de, 157, 158
_Tannhaeuser_, 140, 230
Tennants, 189
Terry, Ellen, 234, 248;
opinion of, 283, 284
Thalberg, 106;
Strakosch and, 294
Theatre, in England, 131;
in France, 140, 141;
Her Majesty's 189, 235;
traditions of the, 366
Theatre, Booth's, 267
Theatre Comique, 307
Theatre Francais, 265, 306
Theatre Lyrique, 145
Thomas, Ambrose, 146
Thomas, Theodore, at the Academy, 40;
in Chicago, 321
Thomaschewski, Dr., 337, 347
Thompson troupe, Lydia, 69
_Thorough-base_, 2
Thursby, Emma, 298
Tilton, Mrs. Elizabeth, 214
Titjiens, in London, 77, 129, 132, 137, 139, 170, 173;
pet of, 168, 169, 178, 179, 185, 196, 235, 239, 302
_Traviata_, Piccolomini in, 14;
the part of Violetta in, 15, 62;
libretto of, 68;
public opinion of, 69, 70;
Patti in, 130;
at Her Majesty's, 135, 164;
costume in, 136;
rehearsal of, 163;
success of, 164;
Lucca in, 249;
interpretation of, 291;
Kellogg in 329, 338, 342;
solo from, 357
Trebelli-Bettini, 236
Trentini, Emma, superstition of, 166
Trobriand, Baron de, opinions and stories of, 16
Trollope, Anthony, 46, 48
_Trovatore_, Mme. de la Grange in, 13;
Marie Willt in, 153;
Lucca in, 179;
Kellogg in, 201, 249, 260, 261, 329;
Carlton in, 268
Tschaikowsky, 306
Turner, Charles, 261
Valentine, Carlton as, 260;
Kellogg as, 295
Vanderbilt, Frederick W., 300
Vanderbilt, William H., 197, 285, 286
Vane-Tempest, Lady Susan, 192, 197
Van Zandt, Miss, 307
Van Zandt, Mrs., 257
Verdi, mention of, 11;
Falstaff of, 91;
reference to, 133, 292, 298;
meeting with, 307, 308;
criticism of, 331
Vernon, Mrs., 15
Victoria, Queen, 177, 186, 301
Villiers, Colonel, 353
Violetta, 15;
character of, 70;
gowns of 70;
jewels for, 104;
Patti as, 130;
costume of, 135;
Kellogg as, 338;
solo of, 357
Vogel, 307
Voltaire, house of, 143
Wagner, fondness of Kellogg for music of, 30;
use of flute by, 52;
as a revolutionist, 78, 263, 264, 265;
reviewers and, 88;
mention of, 90, 292;
French idea of, 140, 253;
von Bulow and, 298;
Hanslick and, 329, 330
Walcot, Charles, 15
Wales, Prince of, 133, 164, 177, 178, 180-183;
daughter of, 190, 192, 301, 302
Wales, Princess of, 178, 180-183, 302
Wallack, John, exclamation of, 16
Wallack, Lester, 300
_Waltz, The Kellogg_, 135, 138
War, Civil, West Point before the, 19;
beginning of the, 54;
attitude of public toward, 55;
riots in New York during, 59-61;
opera during the, 74, 75;
close of, 110;
after the, 201;
reference to, 233, 359, 360
Wehli, James M., 201
Welldon, Georgina, 241-243
Werther, 91
West Point, primitive conditions of, 17;
conspiracies at, 18
Wheeler, A. C., 42, 75
White, Stanford, 280
Whitney, M. W., 298
Widor, 305
Wieniawski, 246
Wig, for Marguerite, 82-84, 140;
of Leuta, 265
Wilde, Oscar, 254, 255
Willt, Marie, anecdote of, 153
Witherspoon, Herbert, in Norfolk, 9;
in New Hartford, 67
Wood, Mrs. John, 15
Worth, creations of, 136, 278, 279, 347, 348
Wyckoff, Chevalier, 148, 188
Yeats, Edmund, 246, 247
Young, Brigham, 298
Zerlina, Piccolomini as, 14;
Kellogg as, 74, 91-93, 97, 137, 170;
country of, 159;
Lucca as, 249
* * * * *
_A Selection from the Catalogue of_
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My Autobiography
Madame Judith
of the Comedie Francaise
Edited by Paul G'Sell
Translated by Mrs. Arthur Bull
_With Photogravure Frontispiece. $3.50 net By mail, $3.75_
Madame Judith was not only a stage rival but a close friend of the great
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Reminiscences of the Courts of Austria and of Bavaria
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