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: