Born, a.d. 1828. Died, a.d. 1861

AS the possessor of rare histrionic talents—scarcely less remarkable than her marvellous vocal gifts—Catherine Hayes is entitled to a place amongst those of her countrywomen who have been more decidedly disciples of Melpomene and Thalia. Of Erin's many gifted daughters, she is the only one who has gained European fame as a songstress; many of her countrywomen have done excellently in this respect, but she has excelled them all. It is a curious fact that Ireland, so essentially the land of song, should have given to the lyric stage but one single female vocalist, capable of interpreting with success the higher branches of dramatic music. In every other art our country has given proof of the genius of her children; but as a vocalist—Irish by birth—who has achieved triumphs which place in the shade many of the proudest vocal victories of foreign prima donnas, Catherine Hayes stands alone.

One summer's evening a pleasure party were idly rowing along the Shannon, where it passes the pleasure-grounds of the Earl of Limerick, and the gardens of the See house. Suddenly, upon the stillness of the evening air there was poured forth a flood of melody, so sweet, so pure, so fresh, that they all remained transfixed with delight as they listened to the unknown singer. Unconscious of the audience, the unseen continued to pour forth song after song, finishing up with “The Lass o'Gowrie,” which was concluded with a prolonged and thrilling shake.