Never having heard the renowned Madame Goldschmidt, we can draw no comparison between the Swan and her fairer Swedish rival; but however she may compare with her, allow us to say she has the most varied and powerful voice it has yet been our fortune to hear. She gave us first the arietta, “Where are now the Hopes I’ve cherished?” accompanying her voice with the guitar—which, as well as the harp and piano, she uses very skilfully. This song, though easy of execution, is charmingly sweet and plaintive—and how it could be better performed than upon this occasion, it is difficult to imagine. Every heart present was thrilled with her tones, which flowed from her lips like gems.
Next we were favoured with a song in bass, accompanied with the piano—in which a male voice was so closely imitated as to defy the most acute ear to make it anything else; a male voice, however, highly refined—deeper, stronger, sweeter—than ever before fell upon our ear. The feelings of all present were delightfully stirred,—even the atmosphere in which we sat seemed trembling with emotion.
These were followed by other songs, enough to exhibit the vocal charms and operatic talent of this wonderful cantatrice, in all their strength and compass. And we feel it due to say (though without pretending to rigid musical criticism,) while the voice of the Swan is equal to the loftiest pitch of the soaring lark, and the lowest reach of bass tone, there seems no lack of sweetness and distinctness—so often wanting or underrated in musical entertainments.
A word as to the personnel of the “Swan.” She is robust and fleshy, with a full and healthy chest; but with very uncomely features. She is intelligent, however, and unassuming—is free without boldness—and kind and attentive to all who visit her. She was born in Mississippi. Her father was an African, her mother a Choctaw Indian woman, and she seems, both in features and disposition, to show her compound origin. When quite a child she fell into the hands of quite a wealthy Welsh lady, by whom she was raised in Philadelphia—with whom she ate and slept for twenty-one years, and who, dying, bequeathed her a handsome property, which is yet contested at law. Her family name is Taylor, but in honour of her mistress she takes the name of Greenfield.
We are told it is her purpose to sail for Europe sometime in June or July next, to avail herself of the best instruction which can be obtained in cultivating her extraordinary vocal gifts.
The statement that Miss Greenfield is the daughter of a man in Buffalo, who “formerly lived in Mississippi, and served as hostler,” and that “Miss G. came north and married a fellow yclept Green,” is all false.—If any person should have been led to believe otherwise, the following letters will be sufficient to undeceive them:
N. W. corner of Mulberry and Tenth Street, Philadelphia, 11th month 5th, 1851.
I have known Elizabeth Greenfield for more than fifteen years, during most of which time, she resided near to me with a worthy and benevolent friend of mine, the late Elizabeth Greenfield; through whose liberality she was kindly supported and educated.
In the course of a professional attendance of some years on Elizabeth’s family, I had reason to be convinced that she continued to stand well in the estimation of her aged friend. To the best of my information, her conduct and deportment since, have been such as to merit the esteem of those who know her in this city.
Signed, Theophilus E. Beesley, M. D.