About this time I first met Madame Lilli Lehmann, to whose far-reaching influence I attribute much of the success which has come to me. I felt the need of the careful instruction of a master. Of course, the idol of music-loving Germany was then, as now, Lilli Lehmann. I wrote to her, asking if I could sing for her with the idea of becoming her pupil. There was no answer. Lilli, with her extensive correspondence and active life, was probably too busy to consider such a matter as a new pupil. Then my mother wrote. In reply came a very concise and businesslike communication. Yes, Lilli had received the letter from me, but, owing to my eccentric handwriting, had been unable to decipher it. My mother's penmanship was clearer, and so Lilli wrote that she would be willing to hear me sing, without promising to accept me as her pupil, however.
An appointment was made for us to call at half-past nine o'clock in the morning at her home in Grunewald, half an hour's ride from Berlin, and, though the day was cold and wintry, my mother and I were there promptly on time.
Beautiful Lilli Lehmann—stately and serene as a queen; with a wonderful personality which seemed naturally to dominate every presence in the room; past the meridian of life yet with an unbroken record of world achievement behind her; greatest living exponent of Mozart, of Brahms, of Liszt, of Wagner—what more can I say of her than that I approached her with the deference and respect which were her due? I was an eager and humble beginner; she of another generation. My desire to secure her as my instructor seemed almost presumptuous; yet, after hearing me sing, Lilli kindly consented to take me, and I am happy and proud to state that I have been her pupil at all times since that first meeting.
Lilli insisted that I should essay one Wagnerian rôle. Under her direction I studied Elizabeth in "Tannhäuser," and the night I made my first appearance in this rôle in Berlin was a memorable occasion for both of us. The entire royal family was present, and Lilli sat in a loge with my mother. I should explain that Lilli, who had been a notable member of the Royal Opera for many years prior to her American successes, had had differences with the direction of the Royal Opera during the years of her tremendous popularity in America, and had followed her own sweet will by remaining here several seasons without receiving the necessary permission from the Intendant to do so.
As a result, upon her return to Germany she had not been summoned to resume her rôles at the Royal Opera. This condition of affairs, I believe, had existed for some time, Lilli, with the pride and independence of a great artist, scorning to make the first advances leading to her return.
On the night of my appearance as Elizabeth, after I had scored a really great success, the Kaiser summoned me to the royal box to congratulate me. He knew that I had studied the rôle under Lilli's direction. He therefore summoned Lilli as well, complimented her upon her pupil's achievement and then and there requested her to sing as guest artist at the Royal Opera, which she did a few weeks later.
It was a great and happy night for me, and I believe for Lilli also.
Dimly connected with this period I remember various young gentlemen showing me attentions. There was a baron who mysteriously sent gifts concealed in flowers, with very charming poems written about the difficult rôles I was playing. It was some time before I found out who he was and could return his trinkets, with the request that he cease sending presents to me. However, he continued to write me pathetic letters for several years afterward. But I was thrilled and enthusiastic over my career, and had no serious thoughts for love-making or matrimony. I wished to devote all my time and energy to my work.
