May 6.  A good many calls this morning.  Among others came Miss Greenfield, the (so called) Black Swan.  She appears to be a gentle, amiable, and interesting young person.  She was born the slave of a kind mistress, who gave her every thing but education, and, dying, left her free with a little property.  The property she lost by some legal quibble, but had, like others of her race, a passion for music, and could sing and play by ear.  A young lady, discovering her taste, gave her a few lessons.  She has a most astonishing voice.  C. sat down to the piano and played, while she sung.  Her voice runs through a compass of three octaves and a fourth.  This is four notes more than Malibran’s.  She sings a most magnificent tenor, with such a breadth and volume of sound that, with your back turned, you could not imagine it to be a woman.  While she was there, Mrs. S.C.  Hall, of the Irish Sketches, was announced.  She is a tall, well-proportioned woman, with a fine color, dark-brown hair, and a cheerful, cordial manner.  She brought with her her only daughter, a young girl about fifteen.  I told her of Miss Greenfield, and, she took great interest in her, and requested her to sing something for her.  C. played the accompaniment, and she sung Old Folks at Home, first in a soprano voice, and then in a tenor or baritone.  Mrs. Hall was amazed and delighted, and entered at once into her cause.  She said that she would call with me and present her to Sir George Smart, who is at the head of the queen’s musical establishment, and, of course, the acknowledged leader of London musical judgment.

Mrs. Hall very kindly told me that she had called to invite me to seek a retreat with her in her charming little country house near London.  I do not mean that she called it a charming little retreat, but that every one who speaks of it gives it that character.  She told me that I should there have positive and perfect quiet; and what could attract me more than that?  She said, moreover, that there they had a great many nightingales.  Ah, this “bower of roses by Bendemeer’s stream,” could I only go there! but I am tied to London by a hundred engagements.  I cannot do it.  Nevertheless, I have promised that I will go and spend some time yet, when Mr. S. leaves London.

In the course of the day I had a note from Mrs. Hall, saying that, as Sir George Smart was about leaving town, she had not waited for me, but had taken Miss Greenfield to him herself.  She writes that he was really astonished and charmed at the wonderful weight, compass, and power of her voice.  He was also as well pleased with the mind in her singing, and her quickness in doing and catching all that he told her.  Should she have a public opportunity to perform, he offered to hear her rehearse beforehand.  Mrs. Hall says this is a great deal for him, whose hours are all marked with gold.