" JENNY LIND AND ENGLAND
[To the Editor of the SPECTATOR.] Soi,—As so much public discussion has arisen in regard to the Jenny Lind Concerts, may I ask the courtesy of your columns for a brief and final statement ? In less than three weeks my- tour here will be finished, and next year I am coming back to England as Frieda Hempel—myself. It is the only way I ever wished to come. It seems strange, after years of study from my early childhood, after singing in the leading opera homes of the world, that a little turn of fate should transform me into a dual personality and that the public should persist in keeping me so.
As for the " lost songs " of Jenny Lind, there are, of course, none, nor have I ever said that there were any. What I did think was that there might be some forgotten ones. I Wished to find out what songs lived longest in the hearts of her listeners and how many of the folk songs and songs of her day, which she doubtless sang for encores, have come down to us. There is no gramophone record of her voice— but every exquisite shade of it is recorded in the hearts of those who heard her, and in the thousand or more letters I have received in reply to my inquiry is written the most beautiful story of Jenny Lind I know.
Some say that Jenny Lind never wore a crinoline. Perhaps she didn't ; but the Centennial gown I was asked to copy in Paris from a picture sent me—one of a portrait, I believe— certainly looks like a crinoline, and neither Callot nor I could tell the difference. But it isn't the dress that matters, and it isn't the songs. Somehow I have been able to stir into life long-smouldering memories—beautiful, inspiring memories. That has been my great privilege, and my only consolation for submerging` my own personality. Jenny Lind stands alone in music and in goodness of heart. Like all great artists, she belongs to the world. I deeply regret that in paying tribute to her—and thus giving thousands the opportunity of doing so—I have hurt anyone dear to her personally. England has welcomed me gloriously. It is a great joy to sing here. And when I come back next year just as myself I hope you will be just as glad to see me.— 1 am, Sir, &c., FRIEDA HEMPEL. Ritz Hotel, Piccadilly, London, W.1.
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