Chapter II: Part 2

The list of Haydn's compositions is enormous. It includes 125 symphonies; 30 trios for strings, and strings and wind; 77 quartets for strings; 20 concertos for clavier; 31 concertos for various other instruments; 38 trios for piano and strings; 53 sonatas and divertissements for clavier; 4 sonatas for clavier and violin; 14 masses; 1 Stabat Mater; 8 oratorios and cantatas; 19 operas; 42 canons for voice in two and more parts; 175 pieces for the baritone; and a vast collection of other works, among which are a collection of over 300 original Scotch songs in three parts with violin and bass accompaniments and symphonies.

In estimating Haydn's life-work as a composer, the principal stress must be laid on him as a reformer in his art. Contrapuntally, music had reached its highest development, but in many other important directions it was at a low ebb. Concerted music had not yet achieved any prominence as a distinct branch of the art. Vocal music was in the ascendant and the church and the opera-house offered the principal if not the only means for composers to achieve distinction. In Vienna, the Emperor, Joseph II., was a liberal patron of music, and the nobles, after the fashion of nobles generally, followed the example of the court, and entered into rivalry with each other in founding and supporting costly musical establishments of their own. The Viennese, however, had no very marked sympathy with art at its highest. One hundred and twenty-five years ago, Leopold Mozart wrote: "The Viennese public love nothing that is serious or reasonable; they have not the sense to understand it, and their theatres prove sufficiently that nothing but rubbish such as dances, burlesque, harlequinades, ghost magic and devil's tricks will satisfy them. A fine gentleman, even with an order on his breast, may be seen laughing till the tears run down his cheeks, applauding as heartily as he can, some bit of foolish buffoonery; while in a highly pathetic scene he will chatter so noisily with a lady that his wiser and better-mannered neighbors can scarcely hear a word of the piece." From which it will be seen that fashion changes but little as time passes.

Instrumental music was, for the most part, confined to dance tunes, and minuets, allemands, waltzes and ländler were the rage. Presently these rose to importance and musicians began to take greater care in composing them, until at length came the suite, which was formed of a series of dances all written in the same key but varying in accent and character. Then followed a second part to the minuet, in the fifth of the key, and a return to the first part, which proved to be the stepping-stone to form; and the minuet survived the suite, of which it was originally a part, and continued an indispensable element of the symphony down to the time that Beethoven enlarged it into the scherzo.

In considering the influence that Haydn exercised on instrumental music it may perhaps be interesting to take a passing glance at the condition of orchestration when he began to compose. The string band, then, as now, was the foundation of the whole, and the wind instruments were used to add solidity to the score. The orchestra generally consisted of the string quintet, two flutes, two oboes, two bassoons, two trumpets, two horns and tympani. The first oboe did little else than duplicate the first violins, while the second oboe only appeared now and then with a holding note, or doubled the first oboe. The first bassoon either played in unison with the bass or sustained the fundamental harmony, while the second bassoon, from time to time, doubled the first. The violas rarely had an independent part and as a rule duplicated the bass. It is true that Haydn had before him the example of Stamitz, who gave an independent part to the viola in some of his symphonies, but the innovation does not seem to have influenced Haydn. Trumpets, horns and drums had but little to do except to produce noise when contrast in effect was deemed necessary. Unquestionably, Emanuel Bach departed somewhat from this conventional and circumscribed treatment of the orchestra and gave to his wind instruments independent parts. In his symphony in E-flat is to be found, amid the customary unison and octave passages for the strings, some charming and even piquant free writing for the wind, together with a marked feeling for contrasts between the wind and the strings. The horns, especially, are used with a genuine appreciation of their peculiar quality of tone and the effect of their timbre. Occasionally the strings remain silent and the wood wind are heard alone. More than this, for there is an attempt to employ all the instruments in a manner calculated to let their characteristic individualities produce their due effect in regard to tone-color; but, strangely enough, Haydn does not appear to have been in any way swayed by the innovations of his great predecessor, whose clavier works he had studied so assiduously. Still, a near and an inevitable change in the methods of writing for the orchestra was in the air, and the ground was not wholly unprepared for Haydn.

[Music: Fac-simile of original sketch made by Haydn for the Austrian Hymn, in which the melody and harmony differ somewhat from the published version.]

The orchestration of John Sebastian Bach was thin despite its elaboration. The strings formed the foundation, according to the prevailing rule, and were written in so many real parts, and when wind instruments appeared, they were also used with an independent polyphony. His contrasts were, for the most part, produced by giving a melody to a simple solo instrument, accompanied only by a bass, while a figured bass indicated the chords to be filled in by the organ or the clavier. It can hardly be said that the greatest of the Bachs advanced the art and science of orchestration. Handel's scoring was in quite another vein, and may be viewed as revolutionary for its era. In his overtures, especially, his strings are used with the evident object of producing solidity in effect. The oboes often strengthen the violins in unison and the bassoons perform the same service for the basses, but he also used these instruments independently and to embroider the broad and simple themes of the strings. In addition, he made use of the latter and of the wind separately, each body full in itself and responding each to the other. Now and then he used three trumpets, and in his "Rinaldo" he resorts to four, giving the bass to the drums. In "Saul" he uses three trombones. Clarinets were unknown to him, and the bass tuba was unborn in his day; but otherwise he was acquainted with all the instruments of the modern orchestra and made use of them. One cannot recall an instance in which he used them all in combination, and hence, the four trumpets of "Rinaldo" and the three trombones of "Saul" are not heard together in any of his scores. Notwithstanding the fame of Handel, his daring innovations in orchestration do not seem to have been studied by Haydn, or if they were, they exercised no early influence over him.

Gluck's scores must be considered epoch-making in the art of orchestration. His "Orpheus" was produced in 1762 when Haydn was thirty years of age; his "Iphigénie en Aulide" was produced in 1774, and the other "Iphigénie" was given in 1779. In these works instrumentation was advanced to an extent that broke almost wholly with the past. When Gluck died Haydn was in his fifty-fifth year, and yet the older composer, the report of whose world-wide fame must have reached Haydn's ears, even in the seclusion of Eisenstadt, does not appear to have suggested anything to Haydn. The twelve great Salomon symphonies, Haydn's, till then, highest achievements in orchestral writing, were not produced until some seven years after Gluck's death, and in them the influence is unmistakably that of Mozart, who had undoubtedly studied Gluck thoroughly.

The word "symphony" had various meanings before it became fixed as a name for the highest form of instrumental music. It was, however, generally understood to signify an overture, and its closest connection was with the opera. Originally it was merely a notification to the audience that the opera was about to begin; an appeal for silence and to concentrate attention on the coming entrance of the singers. The French "symphony," as exemplified by Lully, opened with a slow movement followed by an allegro, frequently in fugue form, and passed again into an adagio which ended the overture. The Italian symphony consisted of three movements, the first of which was a moderate allegro, the second an adagio, and the last a livelier and lighter allegro; and the Italian overture, as will be seen, became the foundation of the modern symphony as far as the positions of the movements are concerned. Before Haydn, Stamitz, Abel, J. C. Bach and Wagenseil, as well as Emanuel Bach, had written symphonies, and a symphony by Stamitz, in D, is peculiarly interesting, inasmuch as its form is completely in accordance with that which was established permanently by Haydn. The opening movement is an Allegro, with the familiar double bar with the repeats and the binary form. The second movement is an Andante in the dominant; the third is a Minuet that has even the Trio, and the finale is a Presto. The clavier sonatas of Ph. Emanuel Bach congealed this form and had a permanent influence on it, in the impression they made upon Haydn, who, by his mastery of his art, his amazing fecundity in invention and his unflagging productive powers, was enabled to increase the scope and aim of this form so greatly as to entitle him to be recognized as the creator of the symphony. Haydn's first symphony was written in 1759, for Count Morzin. We are unaware of any printed copy of it in this country. Pohl describes it as a slight work in three movements for two violins, viola, bass, two oboes and two horns. It appears to be modelled on the symphonies of Stamitz, Abel and John Christian Bach. The symphonies that followed differed but little in character from this one and afford little if any insight into Haydn's influence on the symphonic form. He appears to have followed in the footsteps of his predecessors, curiously enough, ignoring the symphonies of Emanuel Bach. The orchestration is meagre and conventional, the violins are almost constantly playing, and the wind is only used to duplicate them. It is not until we come to the first symphony composed by him at Eisenstadt that we see him as an innovator. This work is in C-major, and is generally known as "Le Matin." It is in four movements and begins with a few bars of adagio. The opening allegro is remarkable for its variety of subjects and their treatment, and for the careful manner in which it worked out. Between this movement and the adagio is a long dramatic recitative for the violin, very impressive, but having no discoverable connection with what precedes or what follows it. In breadth, dignity, and expressiveness it surpasses anything that the composer had hitherto produced. From this time forth the symphony steadily grew under Haydn's hands; the form was enlarged, the orchestration was varied, the timbres of the different instruments were studied and instrumental effects gradually assumed an importance that increased with each succeeding symphony. But his greatest symphonies were not written until the period of the Salomon concerts. In the meanwhile Mozart had appeared upon the scene. Haydn's first symphony was produced when Mozart was three years old, and the latter died in the very year in which Haydn's connection with the Salomon concerts began. That Haydn influenced Mozart's early works is beyond question; that Mozart in turn, influenced Haydn later, is equally indisputable.

From an engraving by J. E. Mansfield, published by Artaria, in Vienna, 1781. Haydn in his forty-ninth year.]

In "Le Matin," before alluded to, the second violins play with the first, and the viola with the basses almost through the whole of the first movement. The slow movement has no wind instruments whatever. In the minuet, though, there is a long passage for wind instruments only, and in the trio is an extensive and florid solo for bassoon. Haydn treated the strings in this same confined manner, and the wind after this solo fashion for some twenty years. Then came an effort to make the strings more independent and to pay attention to the peculiar qualities of the viola and violoncello. In the symphony in E-minor (Letter I) the wind is given long holding notes while strings sustain the subject. This was the first step toward greater freedom of orchestration in Haydn's symphonies; but it was not until his "Oxford" symphony that he broke wholly with the past. It was written in 1788, the same year in which Mozart produced his three greatest symphonies. This work is in his mature style, and the orchestration is delightfully clear, flexible and fresh. If he had written no more symphonies after this, however, he would not have attained to the rank he has won as a symphony composer. His fame in this walk of his art was assured by the twelve symphonies he wrote for Salomon after 1790. In these he reached his highest point. His mastery of form was perfected, his technical skill was unlimited, and he ventured into bold harmonic progressions that were little short of daring, for his time. His orchestra had been enlarged to two flutes, two oboes, two bassoons, two horns, two trumpets and drums, and in his three last symphonies, the two in D-minor and the one in E-flat, two clarinets appear. It is in these twelve symphonies that the influence of Mozart is clearly manifested. The bass has attained to independence; the violas no longer duplicate it except for certain effects; the second violins have a free motion of their own; the wind instruments express musical ideas proper to them and appropriate to their special qualities of utterance. The form and character of the symphony were established permanently.

Simplicity, clearness of style, grace and playfulness are the leading features of Haydn's symphonies. There are few of the more notable of them in which his command over the science of his art is not delightfully manifested. Haydn is invariably lucid, always finished to the highest point, always logical and always free from display for the mere sake of display. It is a prevailing fault to dwell too persistently on the cheerful simplicity of Haydn's music and to forget how serious and profound he could be when occasion demanded. These latter qualities are nobly manifested in his more important symphonies in those portions of them devoted to the "working out." Such symphonies as appeared before Haydn fixed the form and showed the capacity of that species of composition have wholly disappeared. It would perhaps be over dogmatic to assert that had it not been for Haydn the symphonies of Mozart and of Beethoven would not have been what they are; but it is certain that Haydn gave the impulse to both in as far as their symphony writing is concerned.

Of the quartet Haydn may be justly called the inventor, and it is in this phase of his art that he may be most profitably studied. The quartet was, as Otto Jahn truly says, "Haydn's natural mode of expressing his feelings," and it is in the quartet that Haydn's growth and progress in his art are most strikingly illustrated. Their influence on music has been greater than that exerted by his symphonies. Here he is seen in his full and his best strength, and it is here too that his extraordinary creative powers are most brilliantly emphasized. When these works first appeared they were sneered at by the pedagogues of the day, but by-and-by more respect was shown to them even by their earlier antagonists, for it was seen that the quartet was not only susceptible of depth of sentiment and seriousness of treatment, but that musical learning also had in them a field for its finest development. These quartets, from the opportunities they afforded for performance in the family circle, exercised great influence in raising the standard of taste, and in their educational aspects they were thus of the highest service. They crystallized form and in essence may be looked on as the parent of all the serious and so-called classical music that has been composed since. The progeny may only distantly resemble the parents, but the form establishes beyond all cavil the family resemblance.

Haydn's first quartet is the merest shadow. The first half of the opening movement consists of no more than twenty-four bars. The subject comprises eight bars; then comes eight bars of an episode modulating into the dominant, and then the second subject, also eight bars in length; but brief and pale as it is, it is unmistakably the germ that was elaborated by Beethoven into such prodigious masterpieces. It is in the quartet that Haydn found the fullest outlet for his wealth of musical thought, and it is in the quartet that his genius is illustrated in its most marked individuality. Quartets were written before his day, and also by his contemporaries, J. C. Bach, Stamitz, Jomelli, Boccherini, and others, but Haydn's marvellous invention, his originality in the mastery of form, his fine feeling for the characteristic speech of each instrument enabled him to obtain a mastery that left him without a rival. His early quartets are exceedingly thin, and are in such glaring contrast with what came after the composer had wholly developed the capacity of the quartet as a means of profound expression of musical thought, that he is said to have wished to ignore all his works in this class that preceded the nineteenth quartet; but they are necessary to the student who would follow the growth of musical form. It is an immense stride from the first of these compositions to the ever-beautiful "Kaiser quartet," with its exquisite variations, or "Gott erhalte Franz den Kaiser." The advance from simple harmonies to polyphonic treatment of the different parts, is a peculiarly interesting subject for study. Haydn stamped a character on the quartet that has never been departed from; and what is known as the "quartet style" was established by him so thoroughly that in all the mutations in musical taste, it still remains a distinction that admits of no change.

Haydn also left the impress of his genius on the sonata, though to Emanuel Bach is due the honor of having broken with the past as represented by Domenico Scarlatti and Kuhnau. The same copiousness of invention and perfection of form that characterize his quartets and symphonies are to be found in his sonatas, too much neglected at present, for in several of his later compositions of this class he appears to have gone further than Mozart and to have overlapped into the era of Beethoven. His trios for clavier and strings are full of interest, but with two or three exceptions they are not of special value except as models. The strings are often held subordinate to the piano, and the outer voices are too persistently doubled. Of his other purely instrumental works, including concertos and divertimenti, nothing survives except the fine concerto for clavier in D with "principal violin."

His songs, of which he wrote many, have passed for the most part into deserved oblivion. Some of his canzonets are marked by grace and delicacy, but the sign of age is unmistakably on them. His masses display that eternal freshness and that cheerfulness of spirit that are peculiarly Haydn's, and the more important of them must rank forever among the masterpieces of their class, notably the "Mariazell" Mass in C-major, and the "Cecilia" Mass, in the same key.

"The Seasons" and "The Creation" are remarkable not only in themselves, but as productions of his old age. It is true that his fame does not rest on them, and it is equally true that if he had written nothing else these works would not have brought the composer's name down to our day with the glory that now surrounds it. Some portions of "The Creation" however, are noble music, and these will always be listened to with delight. Never was the human voice treated in a more masterly manner than it has been by Haydn in these "oratorios," and the study of their scores is still valuable to all who would learn how to support the voice by flowing and brilliant orchestration without giving undue prominence to the instruments.

The dramatic interest of "The Creation" is not strong. There is nothing in the shape of declamation, and the singers are confined to mere description. The result is a lack of passion and a consequent monotony of sentiment. The tone-picture of Chaos, with which the work opens, stands out as one of the noblest bits of instrumentation that Haydn ever wrote. The air "With Verdure Clad" is exquisite, in melody and orchestration, but its many repetitions mar it and make it tiresome. "On mighty pens" is another lovely air, but here too the composer has not been fortunate in respect to discreet brevity. The choruses reach a high point of beauty in regard to themes, development and voice treatment, and "The Heavens are telling" still remains one of the noblest oratorio choruses outside of Bach and Handel. But the breadth and dignity of all the choruses are impaired by the elaborateness of the orchestration. Haydn was essentially an instrumental composer, and it was but natural that he should have yielded to the temptation to produce effects of which he was practically the inventor and at which the musical world still marvelled. It is, with all its faults, an amazing work for a man not far from three-score and ten years of age; and it may still be listened to with pleasure, when the last part is omitted; for the wooings and cooings of Adam and Eve have become incurably old-fashioned; and the grace, melodiousness and tenderness of the music do not atone for its monotonous effect and its lack of dramatic color.

"The Seasons," by its well sustained pastoral tone, its fresh and cheerful melodies, the fidelity with which the composer has adhered to the spirit of his poem, and the simple grace of style that marks the work throughout, make it still delightful in the hearing when it is produced with care and in harmony with the chaste sentiment that pervades it. When it is remembered that the composer compassed this work at the age of 69, and consequently near the end of a busy life whose active pursuit might well have exhausted his capacity to invent, its wealth of melody is astonishing. And yet, he said to Michael Kelly, "It is the tune which is the charm of music, and it is that which is most difficult to produce." In our day it would seem that tune is exhausted or that it is more difficult to produce than it was. In this connection another saying of Haydn's may be reproduced for the felicity with which it applies to the present time: "Where so many young composers fail is, that they string together a number of fragments and break off almost as soon as they have begun; so that at the end the hearer carries away no clear impression." By omitting the word "young," the words will not be any the less true now.

Of Haydn's lighter vocal works there is no need to speak, for they have passed away forever. His operas have been wholly forgotten, and not unkindly. It is, however, as an instrumental composer that Haydn is entitled to the most earnest consideration. In this field of his industry he has left an imperishable name. He was, to all intents and purposes, the creator of orchestral music. His place in musical history is among the greatest in his art. He broke with pedantry at the outset of his career, enlarged the scope and dignified the aim of music, and made the world the happier for his presence and in the rich legacy he left it. Music has changed greatly since his day, and in its progress it has departed widely and is still departing, even more widely, from the conditions in which he left it; but in all its changes it has left his position unassailed. His best achievements in his art are yet listened to with delight, despite the richer orchestration and the larger design that characterize the music of our time. He has outlived every mutation thus far, and it is perhaps not overbold to prophesy that his fame will endure long after the vague, restless and labored music that is peculiar to the present era, is forgotten. The moral of his life is devotion to art for art's sake. He was loyal to it through poverty, suffering and disappointment, never doubting his mission on earth. His early career was through tears, but as Heine says: "The artist is the child in the fable, every one of whose tears was a pearl. Ah! the world, that cruel step-mother, beats the poor child the harder, to make him shed more tears."

Illustrating Haydn's Oratorio of "The Creation."]

_Reproduction of a photograph taken by Hanfstängl from an original
silver crayon (Silberstift) portrait, drawn by Dora Stock in 1789
at Dresden, during Mozart's visit--two years before his death. The
artist was a daughter-in-law of Mozart's friend Körner, the father
of the poet Theo. Körner. This portrait, though quite different from
the more familiar pictures, is the best and most characteristic life
portrait of Mozart in his later years. The date 1787 is incorrect._
]

WOLFGANG AMADEUS MOZART

Johann Georg Mozart, the grandfather of the great composer, was a bookbinder. He lived in Augsburg, and in 1708 he married Anna Maria Peterin, the widow of a fellow-handicraftsman named Banneger. By her he had five children, and the youngest boy was Johann Georg Leopold, the author of the "Violin School" and the father of Wolfgang, the immortal composer.

Leopold Mozart was a man of no ordinary parts. His face is known to us by the engraving from the portrait painted by the amateur Carmontelle in Paris, 1763, and by the family group in the Mozarteum in Salzburg. It is an honest face, keen, austere; a mocking jest might have passed the lips, but neither flatteries nor lies. His tastes were simple, his life was ever free from dissipation. In money matters he was regarded as close, and the reproach has been made by some that he acted as a Barnum towards his two precocious children. The reproach is unjust. The man was poor. His earnings were small. He needed money to pay his debts and support his family. But no specific charge of meanness or avarice has been substantiated. On the other hand he was scrupulously honest, sincere in the duties of his profession, and of a profoundly religious nature that was shown in profession and practice. At the same time he was not a bigot. He would not yield to the tyranny of priests; he was free from superstition of every sort; his sane spirit and his bitter wit were exercised in spiritual as well as temporal affairs. Grimm, who was no mean judge of men, wrote of him as follows: "The father is not only a skilful musician, but a man of good sense and ready wit, and I have never seen a man of his profession who was at the same time so talented and of such sterling worth." As a musician he was thorough, well educated, and a composer of merit. His treatise upon violin playing was known throughout Europe, and it showed the solid qualities of the musician and the ironical temperament of the man. All of his gifts were used, however, chiefly in directing and developing most wisely the extraordinary genius of the young Wolfgang. The affection shown him, however, was lavished equally upon his wife and other children.

Salzburg is a town renowned for its beauty. "To see it shining in the sun, with its large white façades, its flat roofs, its terraces, its church and convent cupolas, its fountains, one would take it for an Italian city." The advantages of its natural situation and the artifical charms of the place were, if the opinion of the eighteenth century may be accepted, only equalled by the stupidity of the inhabitants. There was a German proverb that ran as follows: "He who comes to Salzburg grows foolish the first year, becomes an idiot the second; but it is not until the third year that he is a Salzburger." The German Harlequin _Hanswurst_, however, was a Salzburg creation; and the inhabitants were fond of heavy and coarse jokes. No wonder then that the town and the society were distasteful to Leopold Mozart. He left his birthplace to study law in Salzburg; and in 1743 he entered the service of the Archbishop Sigismund, as a court-musician. Later he became court-composer and leader of the orchestra; in 1762 he was second Kapellmeister. In 1747 he married Anna Maria Pertl or Bertl. She was the daughter of the steward of a hospital. She was very beautiful, good natured, loving, and of limited education. Seven children were born of this marriage. Five died at a very early age. The fourth, Maria Anna (born July 30, 1751), was familiarly known as "Nannerl," and she was a musical prodigy. The seventh and last was born at eight o'clock in the evening, Jan. 27, 1756, and the mother nearly died in the child-bed. According to the certificate of baptism, he was named Joannes-Chrysostomus-Wolfgangus-Theophilus. His first compositions published in Paris in 1764 are signed J. G. Wolfgang. Later works bear the name Wolfgang Amade. In private life he was known as Wolfgang. Variations sometimes found in the biographies come from the fact that Theophilus and Amadeus and Gottlieb are but one and the same name.

Schachtner, the court trumpeter, and a house-friend of the father, preserved for us in a letter written to Mozart's sister many interesting details of the early manifestations of the boy's genius. At the age of three he sought thirds upon the keys of the pianoforte. At the age of four his father began to teach him little pieces. When he was five he dictated minuets to his father, which are of natural but correct harmony, melodious and even characteristic. The first of these minuets is given herewith. These are not legends, but well attested facts. Four minuets and an allegro have been published by Otto Jahn in the second edition of his "Mozart." Singular indeed are some of the stories related. Up to the age of ten he could not endure the sound or sight of the trumpet. He wrote a pianoforte concerto, clearly conceived, but of unsurmountable difficulty, when he was four. His sense of pitch was extraordinary. The father watched this astounding precocity with loving fear and prayed that he might be wise enough to direct it.

[Music: MOZART'S FIRST COMPOSITION.

Minuet.]

From a photograph.]

The court dress was sent to him by the Empress Maria Theresa. Painter unknown. Original in the Mozarteum in Salzburg. This is the earliest portrait of Mozart.]

In 1762 Wolfgang and Maria Anna--the latter was now a pianoforte virtuoso--played before the Elector of Bavaria in Munich, and the enthusiasm provoked by their appearance was so great, that Leopold obtained leave of absence in September of the same year and went with his family to Vienna. At Passau the children played before the Bishop, who marvelled greatly and gave the father a ducat. At Linz they gave their first concert. They then descended the Danube to Vienna, stopping at the monastery of Ips, where Wolfgang played so effectively upon the organ that the Franciscan fathers left the dinner table that they might hear him; which miracle is doubtless recorded in the annals of the abbey.

Original in the Mozarteum, in Salzburg. On the bottom of the music--"Th. Helbling juv. pinx."]

The Austrian imperial family was passionately fond of music. Francis the First was a distinguished connoisseur, and Maria Theresa was a pupil of Wagenseil, as well as an accomplished singer. The Mozart children were received with open arms. The courtiers were astonished at the display of genius. The Emperor spent hours in testing and wondering at the powers of Wolfgang. The young Marie Antoinette romped with the boy who promised to marry her when he was old enough.

Painted by Dominicus van der Smissen, 1766. The original in possession of Mr. R. Hörner, in Ulm.]

The noble families of the town vied with each other in their attentions. The children were given money, court dresses, and tokens of genuine affection, and the first portrait of Wolfgang was painted then in Vienna, in which he has powdered hair, and he carries a sword. The boy was seized with scarlet fever in October, and in the beginning of 1763 Leopold went back to Salzburg. But the 9th of June of the same year, with his wife and children, he set out for Paris, having letters of credit from his good friend Haguenauer. They had adventures, and they gave concerts on the way. They arrived at Ludwigsburg, the Versailles of Stuttgart, where Jomelli, with his carriages and horses, houses and yearly salary of four thousand florins, brought to Leopold's mind his own modest condition, and provoked him to bitter remarks. Frankfort, Bonn and Brussels were seen, and finally the family arrived in Paris the 18th of November. The story of this visit, as well as the visit of 1778, has been most entertainingly told by Jullien in the brochure "Mozart à Paris," to which the reader is referred for interesting details. The letters of Leopold contain much curious information about the musical condition of the city. Frederick Melchior Grimm, who was regarded as an authority, exerted himself most actively in the behalf of his compatriots. They were presented at Court; they were celebrated in prose and in verse; their portraits were painted; and four sonatas "pour le clavecin" were engraved and published. In April, 1764, Leopold left Paris for London, by Calais, Dover, and he took with him the opinion that French music and French morals were detestable. In England the family were received most kindly by the King and the Queen, who, as is well known, were passionate amateurs of music. The curiosity of the Londoners to hear the children was great; the learned Daines Barrington proved the genius of Wolfgang in many ways, and then made it the subject of a letter preserved in the annals of the "Philosophical Transactions" of the year 1770; and guineas chinked pleasantly together in Leopold's pocket. Here Wolfgang wrote three symphonies, four according to Jahn and Koechel, but Wilder gives good reasons for doubting the date of the one in B-flat major. He also dedicated six sonatas for pianoforte and violin or flute to the Queen. His London visit benefited his education. Pohl in his interesting and valuable "Mozart in London" gives a full account of the condition of music at the time. Wolfgang had an opportunity of hearing Handel's oratorios and Italian opera; he became intimate with Christian Bach; he heard the castrate Tenducci, the master of cantabile; he took singing lessons of the famous male soprano Manzuoli. In July 1765 Leopold and the children started for the Hague; at Lille, Wolfgang was seriously ill, and at the Hague the sister was attacked by a violent fever. Wolfgang wrote while in Holland six sonatas and other pieces. After passing through Paris and Swiss towns, the family arrived at Salzburg in November, 1766. Wolfgang was pleased at seeing again his favorite cat, and then under his father's direction he began the study of the "Gradus" of Fux. In 1767 he learned Latin and set to Latin words a comedy, "Apollo et Hyacinthus," at the instigation of the Archbishop, who had hitherto played the part of doubting Thomas. He also wrote four pianoforte concertos for his own use in concerts.

Painted in Verona, Jan. 6 and 7, 1770. Painter unknown.]

Leopold was not blind to the fact that Italy was the home of great composers and illustrious singers; that its atmosphere was stimulating to musical thought; that its very name was synonymous with music. Under pretext of a short visit to Vienna, he made his excuses to the Archbishop and started, in September, 1767, with his family on a longer journey. In Vienna, the children were seized with small-pox, and it was not until January, 1768, that they were able to enter into the musical life of the town. They heard Gluck's "Alceste," and Leopold preferred to it Hasse's "Partenope." Joseph II., a man of frugal mind, demanded of Wolfgang an opera for his theatre, and the boy wrote "La Finta Simplice," an opera-buffa in three acts. It won the unqualified praise of the singers and such composers as Hasse, but the cabal against Wolfgang was too strong, and the opera was not given. "Bastien und Bastienne," an opera in one act, was written immediately after, and produced with great applause in the house of a Vienna doctor. (The pastoral theme of the instrumental introduction, the intrada, anticipates in a singular manner the opening of Beethoven's Third Symphony.) Wolfgang's first mass was given in public, and he himself directed. The Archbishop of Salzburg sent word to Leopold that his pay would continue only while he was actually in Salzburg, and so the family returned home. But the Italian journey was still in Leopold's head, and hoping to pay the expenses of the trip by giving concerts, he started out with Wolfgang in December, 1769. At Roveredo and Verona, the enthusiasm of the people was unbounded; at Milan they met the generous Von Firmian, who was the means of procuring a contract for Wolfgang to write an opera for the Christmas holidays; at Bologna they became acquainted with Father Martini and Farinelli; at Florence, Wolfgang met his friend Manzuoli and Thomas Linley, the English violinist of his own age; and in Holy Week they were at Rome, and they heard the Allegri _Miserere_. The story of the boy memorizing this famous composition at a hearing, writing it out, and correcting it after a second hearing, is familiar to all. The feat provoked the wildest curiosity to see him, and he was looked at superstitiously, just as, soon after, at Naples his virtuosoship was attributed to a ring worn upon a finger of the left hand. The concerts in these towns refilled the drained purse; in 1770, the pope ennobled the boy, giving him the cross of the Golden Spur; and he was received into the famous _accademia filarmonica_ of Bologna. Meanwhile Wolfgang was considering the opera promised for Milan, and the 26th of December, 1770, "Mitridate, re di Ponto" was produced and received with unbounded enthusiasm. It was given twenty times, and the impresario hastened to make a new contract with the _cavaliere filarmonico_, as the Milanese called him. Father and son then visited Turin and Venice, and about this time Wolfgang probably wrote the oratorio "Betulia liberata." In the spring of 1771 they returned to Salzburg, where they found a letter from Count Firmian asking for a pastorale to celebrate the wedding of the Archduke Ferdinand with the Princess Beatrice of Modena. And now the boy fell in love with a woman ten years his elder. She was betrothed to another, and her marriage and Wolfgang's return to Milan in August ended the affair. Although in the house where he lodged, violinists, a singing teacher, and an oboe player plied assiduously their business, Wolfgang finished the promised composition, "Ascanio in Alba" in twelve days. It was first heard October 17. Its success was so great that Hasse's opera "Ruggiero" was neglected; and the kindly veteran simply said, "This young rascal will cause us all to be forgotten."

No. 9 Getreidegasse.]

About the time that Wolfgang returned home, December, 1771, Sigismund, the Archbishop, died, and Hieronymus ruled in his stead. He was a man of mean and tyrannical spirit, and his reputation had preceded him, so that when he arrived in Salzburg he was received in gloomy silence. Nevertheless there were festivities, and Wolfgang wrote "Il sogno di Scipione," a composition unworthy of his pen. It was in this same year, 1772, that Dr. Charles Burney received a letter from a correspondent, saying that the lad was still a pianoforte virtuoso of great merit, but that as a composer he had reached his limit; and the writer then moralized over musical precocities, comparing them to premature fruits. Yet at this same epoch, Wolfgang wrote the celebrated Litany "de venerabile." In November he visited Milan again to compose and put on the stage the opera "Lucio Silla." There were many obstacles before and even during the representation; but the success of the work was unquestioned. This was the last opera written by Wolfgang for Italy. The impresarios were willing and eager; but the Archbishop was reluctant in granting even ordinary favors to his servant. And here is the end of the first period of Mozart's musical career.

This and an adjoining room form at present the Mozart-Museum in which are deposited all original family pictures, busts, autographs, compositions, letters, etc. Also, the spinet and grand piano used by Mozart in his later years.]

The next five years were passed without material change in the circumstances of the family. There was a trip to Vienna during the absence of Hieronymus; and in December, 1774, Wolfgang, having obtained permission from the Archbishop, who did not dare to offend the Elector of Bavaria, went to Munich to write or to finish and bring out an opera-buffa, "La finta giardiniera," which had been ordered by Maximilian III., who in earlier years was much interested in the child. The opera was produced with brilliant success, Jan. 13, 1775, and his dear sister was present to share in the joy of the composer. After Mozart's return to Salzburg, Hieronymus received a visit from the Archduke Maximilian, the brother of Marie Antoinette. It no doubt occurred to him that one of his servants, who was paid, by the way, about $5.50 a month, was not earning his wages; and so Mozart was requested to write an opera, "II re Pastore," in honor of the imperial guest. This was performed in April, 1775, and this year and the next were years of great fertility: music for the church, violin concertos, divertimenti, serenades, organ sonatas, etc. He worked at the violin to please his father, who had a high opinion of his ability in this direction; and besides, one of his duties was to play at the court, a duty that he detested. In spite of all this work, these days in Salzburg dragged along, sad and monotonous. The social life of the town was slow and stupid. Risbeck and other travelers have given us curious details. "The sovereign," writes one, "goes a-hunting and to church; the nobles go to church and hunt; the tradespeople eat, drink and pray; the rest pray, drink and eat." No wonder that he shot sarcastic arrows at his fellow townsmen. He poked fun at a lover of his sister who gaped at everything he saw in Munich, "so that one could easily tell he had only seen Salzburg and Innsbruck." He was never tired of telling of a Salzburgian who complained that he could not judge Paris satisfactorily, "as the houses were too high and shut off the horizon." "I detest Salzburg and everything that is born in it. The tone and the manners of the people are utterly unsupportable." He avoided society. Sundays, to be sure, with a few of his own age, he played at pea-shooting; and he was fond of going occasionally to balls. Nor did he associate willingly with the musicians. His father hated the Italians in the orchestra; and the German musicians were so fond of their cups that when Leopold went to Mannheim he was surprised at the sobriety of the orchestra. He spent most of his time at home, fond of a canary bird and a dog, teasing his sister about her lovers, adoring his father and mother. Finally the father and son plucked up courage and asked Hieronymus for a leave of absence. It was refused, with the remark that he did not wish one of his servants going about begging from town to town. With his father's permission Wolfgang then sent a letter asking for his dismission. The vanity of the archbishop was hurt, and he was furiously angry; "After all," he said, "it is only one musician the less." As Leopold could not leave the town, he confided his son to the protection of the mother, and after a sorrowful leave-taking the two started on their journey Sept. 23, 1777. In the anxiety of the moment, the father forgot to give the boy his blessing.

The piano was used by Mozart during the last ten years of his life. It has five octaves and was made by the celebrated Anton Walter. Its value was estimated, after Mozart's death, at 80 florins (about $25) and it probably sold for less. It came into the possession of Hummel, the composer and pianist, and finally to the Mozarteum.

The spinet has five octaves and was used in composing the Magic Flute, Titus and The Requiem.

In the background is seen the large painting of the Mozart family, by Carmontelle.]

And now began the struggles of his life, struggles that only ended with a premature death. They went first to Munich, but there was nothing there. The intendant of the theatre, a broker in music, would not accept Wolfgang's proposition to furnish four operas a year for a ridiculously small sum of money; and there was no other opening. Then a visit was made to Wolfgang's uncle in Augsburg. Here he was kindly received. He became intimate with Stein, the instrument-maker, and gave pianoforte lessons to his daughter. He swore lasting fidelity to his own cousin. When he left, there was an exchange of portraits, and afterward the cousins corresponded vigorously for a time. The next stopping place was Mannheim, which was called "the paradise of musicians." The orchestra fostered by the musical Elector Karl Theodore was probably without a rival in Europe. It was of unusual size. There were eleven first violins, eleven second, four violas, four 'cellos, and four double basses; two flutes, two oboes, two clarinets (instruments rarely used in those days), four bassoons, two horns, and trumpets and drums. The conductor was Cannabich, a man of knowledge and of temperament. The performances of this orchestra were celebrated by all the critics of the time. Burney compared the _piano_ and _forte_ to different colors used by painters. Schubart wrote that the _forte_ was a thunder-storm, the _crescendo_ a cataract, the _diminuendo_ like the purling of a crystal stream, the _piano_ like a breath of spring. And Burney, again, compared the orchestra to an army of generals equally prepared to direct the campaign and to fight. With these men Mozart became intimate. Here also he knew the famous singers, Dorothea Wendling, Franciska Danzi and Anton Raaff. Here too he met the famous Abbé Vogler, the teacher in future years of Weber and Meyerbeer, whom he disliked to the point of hatred. He sneered at his theoretical books, he called him "charlatan" and "humbug." A harsh verdict, and one not fully deserved, although this Vogler was truly an eccentric person, who boasted that he could make a composer in three weeks and a singer in six months. Now, certain members of the orchestra were engaged for concerts in Paris, and they begged Mozart to go with them, saying that Paris was the only town where such a composer would be appreciated and could make his fortune. At first he embraced their views and tried to convince his father that the plan was for the best. When everything seemed favorable, Leopold was astonished by the receipt of letters from Wolfgang, saying that he had abandoned the project, and at the same time giving ridiculous reasons for the change. The truth was that the boy was in love.

Fridolin Weber, a man of good family and of education, was the prompter and the copyist of the Mannheim theatre. Poor as he was, he had cultivated the talents of his daughters. They were five in number. The second, Aloysia, was fifteen, distinguished for her beauty and superb voice. She and Mozart went together to the chateau of the Princess of Orange,--and they loved each other. She sang for the Princess and he played, and the letters written by Wolfgang to his father show more than a musician's interest in Aloysia. For her he wrote a passionate aria, choosing Metastasio's lines "Non so d'onde." This love making was stopped by a sensible and kindly letter from Leopold, and the boy and his mother set out for Paris. There were tears, and presents. Aloysia gave her lover two pairs of mittens which she had worked, and Fridolin added a roll of music paper and a copy of Molière. But Aloysia was piqued and never forgave Wolfgang for his obedience to his father.

Sister of the composer and remarkable as a musical prodigy. This portrait is idealized, being a reproduction from the Bruckmann collection.]

After a journey of nine days, mother and son arrived in Paris, the 23d of March, 1778. Mozart, sick at heart, looked upon the gay scenes with disapproving eyes. Even a month after his arrival, he wrote his father that he was indifferent to all things and that nothing interested him. His room was gloomy, and so small that he could not get a pianoforte between the two cots. However he lost no time in calling upon Grimm and the Mannheim friends. He met Legros, the director of the "Concert spirituel," who gave him work, and Noverre, the celebrated ballet-master, and for him he wrote music for a ballet-pantomime called "Les Petits Riens," which was produced at the Opera house June 11, 1778. It was preceded by an opera of Piccini and ascribed to Noverre. The "demoiselle Asselin" was praised by the journals, and nothing was said about the music. The manuscript was discovered by Victor Wilder, and the ballet was played during the winter of 1872-73 at a concert at the Grand Hotel, Paris. A few days after the first performance of this ballet, Mozart's "Paris" Symphony was played in the hall of the Tuileries and with success. A second symphony, played in September, has disappeared.

Although in many ways this visit to Paris was a sore disappointment to Mozart, and although he wrote bitterly about the condition of music in the French capital, his stay was of great and beneficial influence upon his career. He heard the operas of Gluck, Grétry, Monsigny, Philidor and the Italians who then disputed the supremacy with the French. In after years he was found surrounded by the works of Gluck and Grétry, and when asked if the study of Italian masters was not more profitable, he replied: "Yes, as regards melody; but not for true and dramatic expression."

In May, 1778, the mother of Mozart sickened, and in July she died after much suffering. She was stout and subject to apoplectic attacks. As she had no confidence in French physicians, she was attended by an elderly German who was more patriotic than learned. He gave her rhubarb and wine, against Mozart's wishes, and when Grimm's doctor arrived it was too late for cure. She was buried probably in the cemetery of the Innocents, which was destroyed in 1785.

The grief of the son was terrible, and the father was uneasy. Grimm, who was now wholly interested in Italian music sung by Italians, advised Leopold to recall Wolfgang. The archbishop of Salzburg held out inducements to father and son. The father at last commanded the return, and in September, 1778, the philosopher Grimm accompanied the young musician to the diligence and paid his way to Strasburg. When Wolfgang finally saw that his return was unavoidable, he complained bitterly. "I have committed the greatest folly in the world. With a little patience I should surely have won in France a glorious reputation and a substantial income."

Karl Theodore of Mannheim was now elector of Bavaria. He took his court to Munich, and Aloysia Weber sang in his theatre. Mozart stopped to see her. She was slow to recognize him, and she did not approve of the black buttons on his red coat, the French fashion of mourning dress. But he wrote a grand aria for her, and even after her marriage to the play-actor Lange he confessed to his father that he still cared for her.