engagement at Berlin, where, in
the part of Alice in "Roberto," she made a profound impression. She next
sang in Vienna, where she made a veritable triumph. On the last night of
her engagement her carriage was escorted home by thousands. Thirty times
she was obliged to appear at the window of her hotel, and the crowd
scrambled for the flowers which she threw them in acknowledgment of
their applause, and carried them home as treasures.

She became the talk of musical circles throughout Europe, and prices
rose enormously whenever she was to sing.

[Illustration: _Jenny Lind._]

She sang in London for the first time in 1847, and, through judicious
advertising, the public were worked up to a great state of expectation.
Tickets were held at fabulous prices, and since the days of Mrs.
Siddons's seventh farewell, nothing like the excitement had been
known. Many ladies sat on the stairs of the opera house, unable to
penetrate to the auditorium.

Her operatic career in London was short as it was brilliant, for she
sang for the last time on the operatic stage in the season of 1849,
after which she appeared only in concerts and oratorio. Concerning the
charm of her singing, one may judge from a sentence written by Chorley,
the well-known critic, who least of all men was likely to be carried
away by emotion. "It was a curious experience," he says, "to sit and
wait for what should come next, and to wonder whether it was really the
case that music had never been heard till the year 1847." On the other
hand, Mr. Chorley wrote later on to the effect that she invariably sang
somewhat sharp, and that he could not consider any prima donna to be a
great artist who was only positively successful in four
operas,--"Roberto," "La Sonnambula," "La Figlia del Reggimento," and
"Le Nozze di Figaro." In Norma she was a failure.

But again Chorley may well be quoted: "Of all the singers whom I have
ever heard, Mlle. Lind was perhaps the most assiduous. Her resolution to
offer the very best of her best to the public seemed part and parcel of
her nature, and of her conscience. Not a note was neglected by her, not
a phrase slurred over. Her execution was great, and, as is always the
case with voices originally reluctant, seemed greater than it really
was. Her shake was true and brilliant, her taste in ornament was
altogether original. She used her pianissimo tones so as to make them
resemble an effect of ventriloquism."

Jenny Lind's tour in Am