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of Mme. Adelina Patti. I had known the distinguished cantatrice personally for half a dozen years, but somehow I had always been content to worship from afar one who filled, by right of unrivaled gifts, the highest place in the temple of vocal art. The greatest vocalist of her sex that the world had brought forth since the middle of the nineteenth century, the brilliant "Queen of Song" honored by monarchs and princes, sought by aristocracy and wealth, quoted by poets and novelists, fêted and applauded alike in the Eastern and Western hemispheres-small wonder if this strangely unique being had inspired me from youth upward with feelings of the deepest veneration and amazement. Nor were those feelings to undergo the slightest modification in the period of ripening friendship and often close association that was now to follow. "There's such divinity doth hedge" queens as well as kings, and Patti is one of those in whom familiarity may exercise a charm, but can never "breed contempt."

The immediate occasion of my first journey to Craig-y-nos was the opening of the elegant little theater which Mme. PattiNicolini had recently had built in the new wing of her castle. It had been settled in the spring that I was to be present. In July came the following note:

Craig-y-nos Castle, Ystradgynlais,
July 13, 1891.

DEAR MR. KLEIN: I promised to send you a line with itinerary for journey from London to Craig-y-nos Castle,1 which I inclose, and trust you will be good enough to let me know on which day we are to expect you, so as to send the carriage to the station to meet you. With our united very best regards,

Most sincerely yours,
Adelina Patti-Nicolini.

P.S. The opening of our theatre takes place on the 12th of August.

I went down on the 8th, as it was much pleasanter to be there for three or four days before the function. One could study the castle and its environs, and become accustomed to the ways of the household. The welcome bestowed upon me was of the utmost cordiality. Mme. Patti's fame

as a hostess did not belie her; she kept an eye open for the comfort of all of her guests. The house-party was a numerous one, including as it did the Spanish ambassador, Sir Edward Lawson, Sir Augustus and Lady Harris, poor William Terriss, the actor (who was to deliver the inaugural address in place of Sir Henry Irving, who could not come), the Eissler sisters, Signor and Mme. Arditi, Antoinette Sterling, Giulia Valda, Durward Lely, Tito Mattei, Wilhelm Ganz, Franco Novara, and others.

The place has been described so often that I take almost for granted that the reader knows something of Craig-y-nos and its beauties. Enough that the scene is a bit of fairyland, a veritable "oasis in the desert," as some guide-books have called it, amid the long tracts of uninteresting country that constitute the watershed of the Swansea valley. The castle itself is fitted up with every contrivance that modern luxury can afford. The winter garden, with its wonderful electric fountain, is of huge dimensions, and in summer the conservatory makes the most picturesque dining-room I have ever seen. In the French billiard-room stands the famous orchestrion, probably the finest instrument of its kind ever built. It possesses a rich, mellow organ tone, and executes the most complex compositions with extraordinary clearness. I may say, without exaggeration, that it was by the aid of her splendid orchestrion that Mme. Patti first began to comprehend the intricacies of Wagner's more advanced works. She now knows them by heart and enjoys them.

But, after all, the gem of the castle, apart from its mistress, is the theater. It has been called "a Bayreuth theater en miniature," and justly. There are no side boxes or seats; there is a single gallery at the back, with stalls sloping down to an orchestra, so that the musicians are nearly out of sight. The system of stage lighting is worked by electricity. The pure Renaissance of the architecture is set off to advantage by a singularly delicate scheme of color,-pale blue, cream, and gold,—to which the deep sapphire of the curtains supplies a most effective contrast. The walls and proscenium are taste

1 It was then an eight hours' affair, involving two changes of railway and a journey from one station to another at Neath, followed by a drive to the castle from the station in Swansea valley, by the road which Mme. Patti had had cut along the mountain-side. The present journey by the Brecon route is much shorter.

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fully decorated, and between graceful columns are inscribed in panels the names of the great composers. The scenery is painted by the best theatrical artists, while the act-drop, representing Semiramis driving her war-chariot, is a spirited achievement, besides furnishing an excellent portrait of the queen of the castle. Also to be noted is a novel mechanism for raising the floor of the auditorium to the level of the stage, whereby the hall is converted into a handsome ball-room. It is here, every Christmas eve, that Mme. Patti bestows her annual gifts upon the servants and tenantry of her estate.

What, it may be asked, can have been the object of a great artist, with a busy career (yet unfinished) of many years behind her, in enriching her home with such a structure as this? To practise and perform operas? Certainly not. True it is that on the memorable opening night of twelve years ago she sang, a picture of grace ablaze with diamonds, the first act of "La Traviata," followed by the garden scene from "Faust," with her husband, M. Nicolini, in his old part. Again, three days later, a performance was given of the balcony scene from "Roméo" and the third act of Flötow's "Martha," this being at tended, like the first, by a crowded audience of privileged friends and neighbors. But these were the baptismal representations. They consecrated the theater, as it were, without precisely foreshadowing the main purpose of its existence.

The answer to the question was supplied by Mme. Patti herself early in that very sojourn at Craig-y-nos Castle: "I love the stage. I love to act and to portray every kind, every shade of human emotion. Only I want freedom-more freedom than opera, with its restricted movements and its wear and tear on the voice, can possibly allow the actress. I care not if it be comedy or tragedy, so long as I feel that I can devote my whole energy, my whole being, to realizing the character that I have to delineate. Even words trouble me; they take time to commit to memory, and their utterance fatigues a singer too much. Yet I want to act, to feel myself upon the boards, playing to amuse myself and a few chosen friends on each side of the footlights. What does

there remain for me to do? What but to enact scenes and plays in pantomime-to utilize the ancient art of the Italian mime, and express every sentiment by means of gesture, action, and facial expression? I must have music, of course. I cannot do entirely without my own art and all its wealth of suggestive force. Give me only a dramatic idea with music that aids in depicting it, and I will play you any part you choose, from one of Sarah Bernhardt's down to Fatima in 'Bluebeard.'"

I understood. There was something more in this than mere whim or caprice. That Mme. Patti had already been demonstrating her marvelous talent for "dramatic pantomime" upon the stage of her new theater I knew quite well. In a word, her histrionic powers, which had so conspicuously developed during the later years of her career, were now asserting their strength to a degree which, in this case, demanded active exercise. Knowing that I was an "old hand" at amateur stage work, she asked me if I would like to assist in one of the entertainments. I inquired which particular kind-the Sarah Bernhardt or the "Bluebeard."

"Both," she replied, laughing. “We already have a capital arrangement of 'Bluebeard.' We can do that to-morrow or next day. Then if you like to write out a scenario of one of Bernhardt's plays, we will put it in hand and give it later in the month."

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I suggested "La Tosca," little dreaming that Puccini was then thinking of composing an opera upon Sardou's play. My hostess agreed. The casts were arranged, and we set to work forthwith. In Bluebeard" I played the lover. In "La Tosca " young Richard Nicolini, a professional actor, enacted the painter Paul Cavaradossi, and I took the part of Scarpia. The rehearsals were a delight. They frequently took place in the afternoon, and Mme. Patti entered into them as seriously as if they were for a public performance, interesting herself in every little detail, and suggesting countless bits of effective "business." It was in the course of these rehearsals that I began to see what a consummate mistress she was of the art of the stage. A bare idea, a mere hint,

1 In matters concerning scenery, costumes, and lighting it was the same, though herein Mme. Patti relied greatly upon the able assistance of Frank Rigo (the second régisseur of Covent Garden and the Metropolitan Opera House), who used regularly to spend his summer holiday at Craig-y-nos.

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