The Rival Singers.

Evening Star, Issue 8549, 23 June 1891, Page 3

The Rival Singers.

In 1847 Giulia Grisi and Jenny Lind were singing in London, but at different places. Each " star" struggled to outshine the other, and those who one evening went into ecstacies over Grisi's Norma, were the next evening enraptured over Lind's Adalgisa. Such was the rivalry that it was not expected that they would sing together at a publio concert. But Her Majesty requested them to both appear at a oonoert given by her. Of course they complied with the request. The Queen welcomed them oordially, and expressed her pleasure at seeing them together for the first time. She then gave the signal for the concert to begin. As Jenny Lind was the younger of the two, it had been arranged tha* she should sing first. With perfect confidence in her power, she stepped forward and began; but, chancing to look at Grisi, she saw the Southerner's malignant gaze fastened upon her. The fierceness of the look almost paralysed the finger. Her courage left her, her voice trembled, and everything before . her eyes darkened. She became so faint that Bhe nearly fell. By the utmost exertion of her will, however, she auoceeded in finishing the aria. The painful silence that followed convinced her that she had failed, which was confirmed by the triumphant e»preßsion of Grisi's face, Despite the semi-torpidity of her senses, she realised that the failure meant loßt glory, the destruction of her happiness, and the mortification and grief of her parents and friends. Suddenly something—it seemed like a voice from heaven—whispered: " Sing one of the old songs in your mother-tongue. She | caught at the idea, as an inspiration which had flashed into her mind, between the termination of the vocal part of the aria and the accompanist's final chords. Unnoticed by the company »be asked him to rise, and took the vacated chair. For a few seconds she suffered her'fingers to wander 1 over the keys in : a low prelude, and then began to sing. Her selection was a little prayer which she had loved above all others m her childhood's repertoire. She had not thought of it for years. As she sang, she was no longer in the presence of royalty, but in her native land, surrounded by those who listened, not to criticise. Not one before her understood the words of the prayer, but the plaintivenesa of the melody and the sweet voice brought the moisture to every eye. When, having finished the prayer, she raised her mild blue eyes to the face of her rival, whose flaming orbs bad before so completely disconcerted her. A moment after, with the impulsiveness characteristic of the children of the South, Grißi rushed to Jenny Lind's side, placed

her arm around the girl's neok, and kissed her, regardless of the lookers-on,