of Rossi (Henrietta Sontag) paid her the tribute of calling her “the first singer of the world.”  After a five months’ engagement in Berlin, the Swedish singer made her debut in “Norma,” at Vienna, on April 22, 1845.  The Lind enthusiasm had been rising to fever heat from the first announcement of her coming, and the prices of admission had been doubled, much to the discomfort of poor Jenny Lind, who feared that the over-wrought anticipation of the public would be disappointed.  But when she ascended the steps of the Druid altar and began to sing, then the storm of applause which interrupted the opera for several minutes decided the question unmistakably.

After a brief return to her native city, she reappeared in Berlin, which had a special claim on her regard, for it was there that her genius had been first fully recognized and trumpeted forth in tones which rang through the civilized world.  She again received a liberal offer from England, this time from Mr. Bunn, of the Drury Lane Theatre, and an agreement was signed, with the names of Lord Westmoreland, the British minister, and Meyerbeer as witnesses.  The singer, however, was not altogether satisfied with the contract, a feeling which increased when she again was approached by Mr. Lumley’s agent.  There were many strong personal and professional reasons why she preferred to sing under Mr. Lumley’s management, and the result was that she wrote to Mr. Bunn, asking to break the contract, and offering to pay two thousand pounds forfeit.  This was refused, and the matter went into the courts afterward, resulting in twenty-five hundred pounds damages awarded to the disappointed manager.

Berlin enthusiasm ran so high that the manager was compelled to reengage her at the rate of four thousand pounds per year, with two months’ conge.  The difficulty of gaining admission into the theatre, even when she had appeared upward of a hundred nights, was so great, that it was found necessary, in order to prevent the practice of jobbing in tickets, which was becoming very prevalent, to issue them according to the following directions, which were put forth by the manager:  “Tickets must be applied for on the day preceding that for which they are required, by letter, signed with the applicant’s proper and Christian name, profession, and place of abode, and sealed with wax, bearing the writer’s initials with his arms.  No more than one ticket can be granted to the same person; and no person is entitled to apply for two consecutive nights of the enchantress’s performance.”  Her reputation and the public admiration swelled month by month.  Mendelssohn engaged her for the musical festival at Aix-La-Chapelle, where he was the conductor, and was so delighted with her singing that he said, “There will not be born in a whole century another being so largely gifted as Jenny Lind.”  The Emperor of Russia offered her fifty-six thousand francs a month for five months (fifty-six thousand dollars), a sum then rarely equaled in musical annals.