Chapter XXVII: Married Life (1)

THE newly married couple began their housekeeping upon an uncertain and barely sufficing income,

{MARRIED LIFE.}

(264)

and so it remained to the end. Limited means, sometimes even actual want, failed either to increase the carefulness or to damp the spirits of husband or wife.

Mozart's sincere and upright love for his wife has been clearly demonstrated already; it was the talk of Vienna. One day, soon after his marriage, as he and his wife were walking in the public gardens, they amused themselves by playing with her little pet dog. Constanze told Mozart to make believe to beat her, in order to see the indignation of the dog. As he was doing so, the Emperor came out of his summerhouse and said, "What! only three weeks married, and come to blows already!" whereupon Mozart laughingly explained the joke. Later, in 1785, when there was much talk, even in the newspapers, of the unhappy relations between Aloysia Lange and her husband,[1] the Emperor met Constanze Mozart, and said, after some remark on the sad position of her sister: "What a difference it makes, to have a good husband!"[2] At about the same time the English tenor, Kelly, was introduced at a musical party to Mozart and his wife, "whom he loved passionately."[3] His affection betrays itself in many amiable

{CONSTANZE MOZART.}

(265)

traits, and most clearly in the letters addressed to his wife on his later journeys, to which she herself expressly appeals as proofs of his "rare affection and excessive tenderness for her."[4] An expression of Nissen's that Constanze cared "perhaps more for his talent than himself" might lead to a belief that his love was not returned in full measure; but against this view we have the testimony of worthy Niemet-schek, who knew them both, and says: "Mozart was happy in his union with Constanze Weber. She made him a good, loving wife, who accommodated herself admirably to his ways, and gained his full confidence and a power over him which she often used to restrain him from rash actions. He loved her sincerely, confided all to her, even his faults, and she rewarded him with tenderness and faithful care. All Vienna knew of their mutual affection, and the widow can never think without emotion of her days of wedded life." Constanze had, as Mozart had written before their marriage, "not much intellect, but enough common sense to fulfil her duties as a wife and mother." It can, indeed, be gathered from contemporary letters and notices[5] that she had neither

{MARRIED LIFE.}

(266)

natural capacity nor what we call education enough to render her on an equality with Mozart, or to elevate him by her intellectual influence; nay, rather, she failed fully to appreciate or understand him. Like all the Weber family, she had musical talent, which had been cultivated up to a certain point. "She played the clavier and sang nicely."[6] At the Mozarteum, in Salzburg, there is the commencement of a "Sonata ä deux Cembali," unfinished, with the superscription "Per la Signora Constanza Weber--ah!" A sonata for pianoforte and violin, in C major, which only wants the concluding bars of the last movement (403 K.), belonging to the year 1782, is inscribed "Sonate Première, par moi, W. A. Mozart, pour ma très chère épouse." In a letter to Härtel (February 25, 1799), the widow mentions a march for the piano which her husband had composed for her. Although her voice was not so fine as those of her sisters Aloysia and Josepha, she sang very well, especially by sight, so that Mozart used to try his compositions with her. Solfeggi by Mozart are preserved, with the inscription--"Per la mia cara Constanze," or "Per la mia cara consorte" (393 K.), some of them exercises of a few bars' length, others elaborate passages in varied tempo and style, which give abundant practice for execution and delivery. There is a song also--"In te spero o sposo amato," (Metastasio, "Demofoonte"), mentioned by the widow in a letter to Härtel (February 25, 1799), as composed "per la cara mia consorte," which implies a compass and volubility reminding us of her sister Aloysia. It was natural, therefore, that Constanze should take the soprano parts in any private performances among their friends, and we know that she once sang the soprano soli of the Mass in C minor (427 K.) at Salzburg, which require a first-rate singer.

We must also give her credit for more than ordinary musical taste and cultivation, from her partiality for fugues, of which Mozart writes to his sister (April 20, 1782), when he sent her a prelude and fugue (394 K.), which he had composed for her:--

{CONSTANZE'S SYMPATHY.}

(267)

The cause of this fugue coming into the world is in reality my dear Constanze. Baron van Swieten, to whom I go every Sunday, allowed me to take home all the works of Handel and Sebastian Bach, after I had played them to him. When Constanze heard the fugues, she quite fell in love with them; she cares for nothing but fugues now, especially those of Handel and Bach. Having often heard me play fugues out of my head, she asked me if I had never written any down? and when I said no, she scolded me roundly for not writing the most artistic and beautiful things in music; she would not leave me any peace until I had written down a fugue, and so it came to pass.

Mozart would hardly have been happy with a wife who possessed neither taste nor understanding for music. But neither would his creative power have been strengthened by an intellectually excitable and exciting wife; it was far more beneficial for him to find womanly sympathy in his household affairs, and to be soothed rather than urged to greater efforts. She patiently bore his abstraction when his mind was intent upon musical ideas, and gave in to many little whims, which in Mozart seldom proceeded from ill-temper. He was never disturbed by the conversation and noise going on around him when he was writing down his compositions; it was rather agreeable to him to have his attention so far occupied in other directions that his excessive productivity was held, as it were, in check. His wife would sit by him and tell him stories and nursery tales, over which he would laugh heartily, working all the time; the more ludicrous they were the better he was pleased.[7] She was always ready to cut up his meat for him at table, an operation which he tried to avoid, lest in his abstraction he should do himself an injury[8]--an oddity which is only mentioned as a proof how much of a child Mozart always remained in many of the ways of life.

He was severely tried by his wife's delicacy; her health was undermined by frequent and often dangerous confinements, and she was often, especially in the year 1789, for many months in a critical condition. He bestowed the tenderest care upon her, and spared nothing that was likely to benefit

{MARRIED LIFE.}

(268)

her, even when the remedy proposed (as for instance, repeated visits to Baden for some years) was a severe tax upon his slender resources. Instances of liberality like that displayed to him on one occasion of his wife's illness by a comparative stranger were few and far between. A certain honest tripe-boiler, Rindum by name, who knew nothing of Mozart personally, but who delighted in his musiç, heard that his wife, suffering from lameness, had been ordered footbaths of the water in which tripe had been cooked; he begged her to go to his house for them as often as she pleased, and at the termination of the cure he could not be induced to accept any payment either for them or for board and lodging during a considerable time.[9] As for Mozart himself, the care that he bestowed upon her was tender and loving to an uncommon degree. He used to ride every morning at five o'clock, but he never went without leaving a paper in the form of a prescription upon his wife's bed, with some directions of this kind:--

Good morning, my darling wife, I hope that you have slept well, and that nothing has disturbed you; I desire you not to get up too early, not to take cold, not to stoop, not to stretch, not to scold the servants, not to fall over the doorstep. Do not be vexed at anything until I return. May nothing happen to you! I shall be back at ---- o'clock.[10]

The tenderest anxiety for his wife's health is expressed in his letters, and he especially cautions her to spare her weak foot. Frau Haibl (Sophie Weber) narrates:[11]--

How troubled Mozart was when anything ailed his dear little wife! On one occasion she had been ill for fully eight months, and I had nursed her. I was sitting by her bed, and so was Mozart. He was composing, and I was watching the sleep into which she had at last fallen; we were as quiet as the grave for fear of disturbing her. A rough maidservant came suddenly into the room. Mozart, fearing that his wife would be awakened, wished to beckon for silence, and pushed his chair backwards with an open knife in his hand. The knife struck between his chair and his thigh, and went almost up to the handle in his flesh. Mozart was usually very susceptible of pain, but now he controlled

{ILLNESS OF MOZART'S WIFE.}

(269)

himself, and made no sign of pain, but beckoned me to follow him out of the room. We went into another room, in which our good mother was concealed, because we did not wish Mozart to know how ill his wife was, and yet the mother's presence was necessary in case of emergency. She bound the wound and cured it with healing oil. He went lame for some time, but took care that his wife should know nothing of it.

He became so accustomed during this long illness to receive every visitor with his finger on his lip, and the low exclamation "Chut!" that even some time after her recovery, when he saw an acquaintance in the street, he would walk on tiptoe, and whisper "Chut!" with his finger on his lip.[12] The contemplation of such deep-seated affection as this causes us to be more surprised to hear that Mozart, whose unmarried life had been without a blemish, was, nevertheless, unfaithful to his wife. She told herself how Mozart acknowledged his indiscretions to her, and how she forgave him: "He was so good, it was impossible to be angry with him; one was obliged to forgive him." Her sister, however, betrays that Constanze was not always so patient, and that there were occasional violent outbreaks, which is quite conceivable; but it is also abundantly evident (and Mozart's letters to his wife fully confirm the fact) that the close and tender relations of each to the other were not seriously disturbed by these failings.[13] They might on this account alone be lightly dismissed, and in addition it must be remembered that rumour was busy among the public and in the press, and magnified solitary instances of weakness on Mozart's part into distinguishing features of his character. He was credited with intrigues with every pupil he had, and every singer for whom he wrote a song; it was considered a witty remark to designate him as the actual prototype of his Don Juan; and his dissipated life was even considered as the proper confirmation of his artistic genius. Exceptional gifts and accomplishments cannot do away with the equality of all men before the moral law; transgressions of the moral law may be judged leniently or severely, as the case may be,

{MARRIED LIFE.}

(270)

but weaknesses, which in ordinary men are judged lightly, or passed over altogether, must not be measured by another standard, or made the sign of complete moral degradation when they are committed by an artist and a genius whose very faults interest us more than the virtues of other men. Nor should implicit confidence be placed in the gossip and chatter which surround this side of a great man's private life, and turn errors into crimes. The free and easy manners and ideas of the day, which found special favour in Vienna,[14] the peculiar temptations to which an artist's temperament and mode of life expose him, make Mozart's failings conceivable. If it be remembered further how imprudently Mozart behaved, how professional envy and meanness designedly tarnished his fame, it will be readily conceded that better grounds for a fair estimate of Mozart's character are to be found in numerous well-authenticated and consistent instances of his true nobility of mind than in idle and malicious gossip. The earnest spirit in which he looked upon these things is well displayed in a letter to his best and dearest friend, Gottfried von Jacquin (Prague, November 4,1787):--

Now, my dear friend, how are you? I hope that you are all as hale and hearty as we are; you cannot but be content, dear friend, since you possess all that you can desire at your age and in your position; especially since you seem altogether to have renounced your former somewhat unsettled life. Do you not daily grow more convinced of the truth of my little lecture? Is not the pleasure of a fickle and capricious love a thousand times removed from the blessedness accompanying a sincere and rational affection? I am sure you often thank me in your heart for my advice! You will make me quite proud! But without a joke--you owe me a little gratitude if you have really made yourself worthy of Fräulein N., for I played no unimportant part in your improvement or reformation.

{MOZART'S MORAL CHARACTER.}

(271)

Hummel, who was received into Mozart's house as his pupil, wrote in 1831, when he lay dying at Kissingen: "I declare it to be untrue that Mozart abandoned himself to excess, except on those rare occasions on which he was enticed by Schikaneder, which had chiefly to do with the "Zauberflote."[15] His intimacy with the notorious profligate Schikaneder during the summer of 1791, when his wife was an invalid at Baden, and the excesses to which he then gave way, have been magnified by report, and made the foundation of the exaggerated representation of Mozart's thoughtless life.[16] The further reproach brought against him of extravagance and bad management of his household must not be left altogether unnoticed, illiberal as it may seem to hold up for the examination of posterity the trivial cares of housekeeping and money-getting which, when ordinary mortals are concerned, are kept sacred within the four walls of the home. But this part of Mozart's life has been intruded so often into the foreground, that a concise statement of the facts belonging to it seems indispensable. By some his contemporaries have been condemned for allowing his mind to be hampered by unworthy cares, by others he has himself been reproved for having brought himself to poverty by thoughtless extravagance; both these views are exaggerated and in this sense unjust.

It is true that Mozart was not so highly esteemed in Vienna during his life as after his death. The general public admired him chiefly as a pianoforte-player, the downfall of German opera prevented his continuance along the successful path which his "Entführung" had opened to him, and his Italian operas did not obtain so great a measure of

{MARRIED LIFE.}

(272)

applause as the lighter ones of his contemporaries; when the "Zauberflöte" made its effect it was too late. It is scarcely surprising, therefore, that he failed to reach the position before the world which should by right have been his. But though it is easy for posterity to decide that Mozart had just claims to a place by the side of Gluck and above Bono, Salieri and Starzer, it must not be forgotten that his contemporaries had before them a young and struggling artist, and that those veterans had long been in possession of their distinguished places. Without laying too much stress upon the intrigues of opponents, or the Emperor's parsimony, it is plain that Mozart could not readily attain a position which had first to be created for him. He himself was encouraged by the brilliant success of the "Entführung" and the universal applause which he received as a pianist to hope for a secure and respectable position, and he was bitterly disappointed that his good recommendations failed to procure him the post of teacher to the Princess Elizabeth. In his usual impulsive style he resolved on quitting Vienna at once, and wrote to his father (August 17, 1782):--

The Vienna gentlemen (among whom the Emperor comes foremost) shall not imagine that I have nothing to do in the world outside Vienna. It is true that I would rather serve the Emperor than any other monarch, but I will never stoop to beg for any service. I believe myself to be in a position to do honour to any court. If Germany, my beloved fatherland, of which, as you know, I am proud, refuses me, then must France or England be the richer for a clever German--to the disgrace of the German nation. I need not tell you that the Germans have excelled other nations in almost every art--but where did the artists make their fortunes or their fame? Certainly not in Germany! Even Gluck--did Germany make him the great man he is? Alas, no! The Countess Thun, Count Zichy, Baron van Swieten, and Prince Kaunitz are all vexed with the Emperor for not encouraging men of talent to remain in his service. Prince Kaunitz said to the Archduke Maximilian, speaking of me, that such men only came into the world once in a hundred years, and ought not to be driven out of Germany, especially when the monarch is so fortunate as to possess them in his capital. You cannot think how kind and polite Prince Kaunitz was in an interview I had with him; he said when I took leave: "I am indebted to you, my dear Mozart, for taking the trouble of calling on me, &c." You would not believe either how

{PLANS FOR SEEKING FORTUNE ABROAD.}

(273)

anxious the Countess Thun, Baron van Swieten, and other great people are to retain me here; but I cannot wait long, and _will_ not wait on charity, as it were. Emperor though he be, I would rather dispense with his favours than accept them in such a way.

His idea, as he let fall now and then in conversation, was to go to Paris for the following Lent. He wrote on the subject to Le Gros, and was of opinion that if he could only obtain engagements for the "Concert spirituel" and the "Concert des amateurs," he would have no lack of pupils, and could also do something in the way of composition; his main object would of course be an opera.[17] With this end in view he had been for some time studying the French language, and had also taken lessons in English, in the further expectation of making a tour in England; he thought he should understand the language fairly well in three months.[18] His father was not a little disturbed by this new idea; he opposed it with every argument he could find to his son, and even wrote on the subject to the Baroness von Waldstädten (August 23, 1782):[19]--

I should be quite reconciled (to the marriage), if I did not discover a great fault in my son: he is too indolent and easy-going, perhaps occasionally too proud, and all these qualities united make a man inactive; or else he grows impatient and cannot wait for anything. He is altogether ruled by opposite extremes--too much, or too little, and no medium. When he is in no pressing need he is quite content, and becomes indolent and inactive. Once set going, he is all on fire, and thinks he is going to make his fortune all at once. Nothing is allowed to stand in his way, and unfortunately it is just the cleverest people, the exceptional men of genius, who find continual obstacles in their path. What is there to prevent his having a prosperous career in Vienna, if he only has a little patience? Kapellmeister Bono is an aged man. Salieri will be promoted at his death, and will leave another place vacant. And is not Gluck also an old man? Honoured madam, exhort him to patience, and pardon me for asking the favour of your ladyship's opinion on the matter.

{MARRIED LIFE.}

(274)

His remonstrances had the desired effect upon Wolfgang; he was obliged to acknowledge to his father (August 24, 1782) that it would be better to prolong his stay at Vienna; that he could go to France or England at any time. L. Mozart, reassured, wrote to the Baroness (September 13, 1782): "My son has relinquished his intention of leaving Vienna at present, in consequence of my letters; and as he now intends to visit me in Salzburg, I shall be able to make the strongest and most necessary representations to him on the subject."

These representations were all the more effective since Mozart had at this juncture every reason to be satisfied with the sympathy and applause of the Vienna public. It is true that on the revival of Italian opera his works were excluded from the theatre; but in the year 1786 the Emperor proved that he had not forgotten him by commissioning him to compose the "Schauspieldirector" and "Figaro." But when Mozart, nevertheless, failed to obtain a permanent post, the idea again seriously presented itself of leaving Vienna and going to England.

An Englishman named Thomas Attwood (1767-1838) had come from Italy to Vienna in the year 1785, and become Mozart's pupil. By a singular coincidence also the English tenor, Michael Kelly, and the English prima donna, Nancy Storace, were engaged at the Italian Opera. Stephen Storace, the brother, was also resident in Vienna as a composer for a considerable time. Mozart was on very friendly terms with them, and his design was thereby strengthened. At the beginning of November, 1786, he wrote to his father that he intended in the latter part of the Carnival to undertake a journey through Germany to England if his father would consent to receive and take charge of his two children and the servants. Constanze was to accompany him.

"I have written pretty strongly," L. Mozart informs his daughter (November 17, 1786), "and promised to send him the continuation of my letter by the next post. It is not a bad idea, in truth. They may go away quietly--they may die--they may stay in England. Then I may run after them with the children; and as to the payment which he is to give

{L. MOZART'S DISAPPROBATION.}

(275)

me for the children and servants, &c., Basta! My refusal is explicit and instructive, if he chooses to take it so." We see how prejudiced the once tender father had become against his son and his son's wife; whereas his daughter, who had married in 1784, came to his house to be confined, and he afterwards took entire charge of her son Leopold, a fact which he concealed from Wolfgang. Wolfgang's plan was given up immediately on receipt of this letter from his father. But when his English friend left Vienna at the beginning of February, 1787, and returned to England, the wish to accompany him rose strong in Mozart. He had become more prudent meanwhile. Attwood was to prepare a settled post for him in London, and to procure him a commission to write an opera or subscriptions for a concert, and then only he would come. He hoped that his father would in this case relieve him of the care of his children until he should have decided whether he would remain there permanently or return to Germany. The English travellers passed through Salzburg, and made L. Mozart's acquaintance, to their mutual satisfaction;[20] but his objections against Wolfgang's journey were not by any means removed. He wrote to him in a fatherly way, as he informs his daughter (March 1, 1787), "that he would make nothing by a journey in summer, and would go to England at a wrong time; he would spend about two thousand florins, and would certainly come to want, for Storace is sure to write the first opera. Wolfgang would lose heart very soon."

Mozart again abandoned his intention, but not before rumours of it had reached the public ear,[21] rumours which showed the Emperor the necessity for giving him a

{MARRIED LIFE.}

(276)

permanent post, in order to keep him in Vienna.[22] Unhappily, Mozart's father did not live to see this end to all his anxieties. He died on May 28, 1787.

As there was no kapellmeister's place vacant, the Emperor appointed Mozart his "private musician," (Kammermusicus) with a salary of eight hundred florins. The smallness of the sum was ascribed to the influence of Strack; he was, as usual, appealed to for advice, and humoured the Emperor's inclination to parsimony. The appointment was made on December 7, 1787; in August, 1788, Mozart assures his sister that he is really appointed, and that his name appears on the official theatrical list as "kapellmeister in the actual service of his imperial majesty." Gluck, who had been appointed "private composer" (Kammercompositeur) by Maria Theresa on the 7th of October, 1774, with a salary of two thousand florins, died on November 15, 1787. Mozart naturally took his place; but it does not seem to have occurred to the court that a corresponding rise of salary would have been no undeserved distinction.

Mozart himself was not dissatisfied with his pay, since none of the musicians attached to the imperial household received more; but he was justly annoyed, at a later date, when he was suffered to draw his pay without having the opportunity given him of producing any important work. He looked upon it as an alms doled out to him, while the opportunity of distinguishing himself as a composer was denied, and wrote bitterly after the customary entry of his income on the official return: "Too much for what I do; too little for what I could do."[23] This was not the right way to remind those in authority that a promise of "promotion" on the first seasonable opportunity had been held out to him. The cares which beset the closing years of the Emperor Joseph are explanation sufficient of the decline of his interest in music and the drama and his care for the great composer; this, however, the latter failed to perceive. It was clear also that he did not know how to turn his

{OFFERS AND HOPES OF PROMOTION.}

(277)

opportunities to advantage, when, in May, 1789, he refused the offer of Frederick William II. to make him kapellmeister in Berlin with three thousand florins salary. With unselfish emotion Mozart exclaimed: "How can I desert my good Emperor?" The King wished him to reconsider the proposal, and promised to hold to his word for an indefinite period if Mozart would consent to come.[24]

Once returned to Vienna, Mozart thought no more of the matter, and only after much persuasion from his friends was induced to lay it before the Emperor and tender his resignation. In unpleased surprise Joseph asked: "What, do you mean to forsake me, Mozart?" Whereupon Mozart answered with emotion: "May it please your majesty, I will stay." Upon the question of a friend as to whether he had not taken the opportunity of demanding some compensation, he exclaimed angrily: "Who the devil would have thought of that at such a time?"

At the end of 1789 he received the commission to write the opera of "Cosi fan Tutte," but Joseph II. died (February 20, 1790) before Mozart's position had been permanently provided for. After the accession of Leopold II. he appears to have made an attempt to obtain the post of second kapellmeister under Salieri (old Bono had died in 1788, and Salieri had been promoted to his place),[25] but this also was unsuccessful. Convinced that he must now, for the present at least, renounce all hope of promotion at court, he applied to the civic authorities for the post of assistant to the Kapellmeister Hofmann at the Stephans-kirche. The application was granted, with the promise of Hofmann's lucrative post in case of his death; but the old man survived Mozart, and this hope of an independence fell through with the rest.[26] Under these circumstances Mozart

{MARRIED LIFE.}

(278)

was thrown back for a means of livelihood upon lessons, concerts, and composition. We know how much he disliked lesson-giving (Vol. I., p. 411), and his dislike was more likely to increase than diminish, and yet he was obliged to lay himself out to give lessons. In May, 1790, he wrote to his friend Puchberg: "I have two pupils now, and should like to make the number up to eight; try to spread it about that I give lessons." Mozart was never a fashionable and well-paid music-master in Vienna, such as Steffan, Kozeluch, or Righini. This may excite surprise, since he was so distinguished as a pianist, but he was wanting in the patience and pliability necessary, and perhaps also in steadiness and regularity. When he met with talent or enthusiasm, or when he was personally attracted, he was fond of giving lessons; as, for instance, to Franziska (afterwards Frau von Lagusius), the sister of his friend Gottfried von Jacquin, to whom he writes from Prague (January 14, 1787):--

I kiss your sister's hand a thousand times, and beg her to practise industriously on her new pianoforte--but the recommendation is unnecessary, for I must own that I never had so industrious and zealous a pupil as herself--and I rejoice in the expectation of giving her further instruction, according to my poor ability.

She was considered an excellent pianiste, and one of Mozart's best pupils; he wrote the trio with clarinet and tenor (498 K.) for her (August 5, 1786).[27] He also sent her the grand Sonata for four hands in C major (521 K.) as soon as it was finished (May 29, 1787), with a message through her brother that "she must set about it at once, for it was somewhat difficult." They were mostly ladies to whom he gave lessons, for the ladies of high rank in Vienna were cultivated enough to be considered as leaders of fashion,

{LESSONS AND PUPILS.}

(279)

more especially in music.[28] Among them were students in the genuine sense of the word, such as Frau von Trattnern, to whom Mozart addressed elaborate written communications on the execution of his clavier compositions, more especially on his Fantasia in C minor, composed for her.[29] For Barbara Ployer he composed (February 9, 1784) the Concerto in E flat major (449 K.), which he did not consider as among his great ones, and the more difficult one in G Major (453 K.); and he writes to his father (June 9, 1784):--

To-morrow there is to be a concert at Herr Ployer's country-house in Dobling; Fräulein Babette is to play her new concerto in G, I the quintet [with wind instruments, in E flat major, 452 K.], and then both of us the grand sonata for two pianos [in D major, composed early in 1784, 448 K.]. I am to take Paesiello, who has been here since May on his return journey from St. Petersburg, in order that he may hear my compositions and my pupils.

No doubt the greater number of his pupils either--like Fräulein Aumhammer--cared more for social intercourse with Mozart than for actual instruction, or took lessons for a short time only that they might be able to speak of the great performer as their teacher. The celebrated physician, Jos. Frank, relates that he took twelve lessons from him in 1790:[30]--

I found Mozart a little man with a large head and plump hand, and was somewhat coldly received by him. "Now," said he, "play me something." I played a fantasia of his own composition. "Not bad," said he, to my great astonishment; "but now listen to me play it." It was a miracle! The piano became another instrument under his hands. It was strengthened by a second piano, which served him as a pedal.[31] Mozart then made some remarks as to the way in which I should perform the fantasia. I was fortunate enough to understand him. "Do

{MARRIED LIFE.}

(280)

you play any other pieces of my composition?" "Yes," answered I; "your variations on the theme 'Unser dummer Pobel meint' (455 K.), and a sonata with accompaniments for violin and violoncello." "Good!

I will play you that piece; you will profit more by hearing me than by playing them yourself."

It is plain that he had the tact and skill to manage even such pupils as these. He treated those who had the power and the wish to become true artists under his guidance in quite another fashion, and they profited not only by his regular instruction, but still more by his encouragement and incitement to exertion.

Johann Nepomuk Hummel came to Vienna in 1785, with his father, who afterwards undertook the conductorship of the opera, under Schikaneder; at seven years of age the young Hummel already created great expectations by his clavier-playing. A pupil of Mozart's, named Freystädter, brought Hummel to him in 1797; the boy played one of the easier sonatas (with which Mozart had no fault to find, except as to the hurried _tempo_), and then one of his newest concertos by heart.[32] Thereupon Mozart decided to undertake Hummel's instruction, but only on condition that he resided with them altogether. We are not told how often or with what regularity he received lessons; but he heard Mozart play, and had to play over to him any clavier music that came into the house. One evening Mozart returned late from some entertainment with his wife, and found a piece of music which he was curious to hear. Young Hummel, who had been awaiting their return, had lain down on a couple of chairs and fallen asleep. "Stanzerl," said Mozart, to his wife; "wake Hans, and give him a glass of wine." No sooner said than done; and the boy played the new piece of music, late at night as it was.[33]

Mozart's musical instruction was sure to be desultory. Freystädter relates that he generally received Mozart's directions and corrections of his musical exercises sitting at a side-table, while a game of bowls was going on.[34] Attwood

{MOZART'S LESSONS IN THEORY.}

(28l)

also tells us that Mozart sometimes persuaded him to join in a game of billiards instead of taking a lesson.[35] The pupils did not consider their master guilty of caprice and neglect; but felt themselves spurred to activity by their intercourse with him.

Mozart took young Hummel everywhere with him, made him play, played duets with him, and declared that the boy would soon excel himself as a pianist. Hummel was greatly attached to Mozart, both then and ever after; he remained in his house for two years, until in November, 1788, his father set out with him on a professional tour.

Mozart also gave lessons in the theory of music, sometimes even to ladies; we hear of a cousin of the Abbé Stadler as Mozart's pupil in thorough-bass. The exercise-book which he used for instruction in thorough-bass in 1784 is now in the Imperial library at Vienna.[36] Mozart wrote down a very characteristic melody, or a bass, or both, which the pupil was to arrange in several parts; then Mozart corrected the passage with short remarks on the various mistakes, alternately Italian or German, sometimes of a comic nature--for instance: "Ho l' onore di dirla, che lei ha fatta la scioc-cagine (da par Suo) di far due ottave tra il 2do Violino ed il Basso"; or in German: "This E is very forced here; it shows that it has only been put in to prevent too rapid a passage from one consonance to another--just as bad poets often do stupid things for the sake of rhyme. You might have gone gradually from C to D very prettily by inserting thirds." These remarks are purely grammatical; and it is evident that Mozart's teaching was of the good old-fashioned kind, which strives first to give the pupil a thorough knowledge of the grammar of his art. From exercise-books of this kind, of which Zelter saw one in Vienna,[37] a little

{MARRIED LIFE.}

(282)

handbook of thorough-bass was afterwards printed under Mozart's name, and was much in use for some time.[38] With more advanced pupils he naturally proceeded differently. Attwood preserved an exercise-book with compositions, which he had submitted to Mozart shortly after his arrival in Vienna. Mozart had crossed out whole passages, and rewritten them with the remark, "I should have done this so."[39] When Kelly, the tenor, who made pretty little songs which Mozart admired, imagined that he could make himself into a serious composer by means of studies in counterpoint, Mozart said to him, "If you had studied counterpoint long ago in Naples, you would have done well; now that you have to give your mind to your education as a singer, you will make nothing of it. Remember that half-knowledge is a dangerous thing. You have considerable talent in the invention of melodies; a smattering of theory would ruin that, and you can always find some musician who can help you when you want it. Melody is the essence of music. I should compare one who invents melodies to a noble racehorse, and a mere contrapuntist to a hired post hack. So let it alone; and remember the old Italian proverb 'Chi sa più, meno sa.'"[40]

Lesson-giving might fail greatly to increase either Mozart's fame or his income, but his success as a virtuoso was brilliant and lasting. His father warned him, when he talked of settling in Vienna, of the fickleness of the public, but Wolfgang answered cheerfully (June 2, 1781):--

The Viennese certainly love change--_but only at the theatre_, and my line is too popular not to be supported. This is, in truth, _Clavierland!_ and, even supposing they were to tire of me, it would not be for several years, and in the meantime I should have made both money and reputation.

In this expectation he was not disappointed; the applause which greeted him on his first appearance was repeated as often as he appeared in Vienna.

{CONCERTS IN THE AUGARTEN, 1782.}

(283)

The proper season for concerts, and also for private musical parties, was Lent, when the theatres were closed; the concerts were generally given in the theatre.[41] Mozart invariably gave a concert in Lent. After the success of the first (1782) he used to make a common undertaking every spring with a certain Phil. Jac. Martin. He was a native of Regensburg, who had studied with good old Bullinger at the Jesuit College in Munich, and supported himself with difficulty: "quite a young man, who tries hard to get on in the world by his music, his beautiful handwriting, and especially by his clever head and strong intellect" (May 29, 1782). Martin had established an amateur musical society, which gave concerts every Friday during the winter.[42] Mozart writes to his father (May 8, 1782):--

You know that there are a number of amateurs here, and very good ones, both male and female; hitherto there has been no organisation among them. This Martin has now received permission from the Emperor, with expressions of the highest approbation, to give twelve concerts in the Augarten and four grand evening concerts on the finest open spaces in the city.[43] The subscription for the whole summer is two ducats. You can well imagine that we shall get subscribers enough, all the more for my being associated with him. Even supposing that we only get one hundred subscribers, and that the expenses amount to two hundred florins (an outside sum), that means three hundred florins profit for each of us. Baron van Swieten and the Countess Thun are taking it up warmly. The orchestra is entirely amateur, with the exception of the bassoons, trumpets, and drums.

{MARRIED LIFE.}

(284)

The Imperial Augarten replaced the old "Favorite" established by Joseph I. in the Leopold Vorstadt of Vienna. It was laid out by Joseph II., and opened to the public for their free use in 1775, with the well-known inscription over the entrance: "Public place of recreation dedicated to all men, by one who esteems them."[44] The principal building was used as an hotel, and the Emperor built for himself a simple little house, surrounded by wooden palings, where he sometimes spent several days, and amused himself by walking freely among his people. On Sunday afternoons in especial, all the fashionable population of Vienna strolled there,[45] so that the speculation promised to be a successful one.

It provided plenty of occupation for its promoters. Mozart writes (May 25, 1782):--

To-morrow is our first entertainment in the Augarten. At half-past eight Martin is to call for me in a hackney-coach, and we have six visits to make; I must be ready by eleven o'clock to go to Rumbeck; then I dine with the Countess Thun; we are to rehearse the music in her garden in the evening. There is to be a symphony by Van Swieten, and another by me; Mdlle. Berger, an amateur, is to sing; a boy named Türk[46] is to play a violin concerto, and Fräulein von Aurnhammer and I the duet concerto in E flat (365 K.).

The first concert went off well; among the audience were the Archduke Maximilian, the Countess Thun, Wallenstein, Baron van Swieten, and many other musical connoisseurs, but we hear nothing further of the undertaking, which cannot have been so brilliant a success as had been hoped.[47] There was no doubt, however, as to the success which Mozart achieved during the Lenten concerts of 1783. He contributed greatly towards the success of a concert given by his sister-in-law, Aloysia Lange, at the theatre on

{CONCERT FOR ALOYSIA LANGE.}

(285)

March 11. His Parisian symphony for the Concert spirituel (297 K., Vol. II., p. 49) was performed on this occasion, after which Madame Lange sang the song which he had composed for her in Mannheim: "Non sò d'onde viene" (294 K., Vol. I., p. 419), with new variations for the voice. How many memories it must have awakened in them both! "Gluck had the box next to the Langes," he informed his father (March 12, 1783), "in which was also my wife. He could not praise enough either the symphony or the song, and he invited us all to dinner next Sunday." In addition Mozart played a concerto of his own composition. "The theatre was very full; and I was so well received by the public, that I could but feel happy and content. After I had gone away the clapping was so persistent that I was obliged to return and repeat the rondo. It was a perfect storm of applause." For his own concert on March 22 every box was taken, and the theatre "could not have been fuller." The programme of this concert, which he copied for his father, gives us an idea of what Mozart's concerts were. There were performed:--

1. The new Hafner symphony, composed the previous summer (385 K., Vol. II., p. 210).

2. Air from "Idomeneo," "Se il padre perdei" (366 K.), sung by Madame Lange.

3. The third subscription concerto, then just published, in C major (415 K., No. 5).

4. The Countess Baumgarten's scena (369 K., Vol. II., p. 168), sung by Adamberger.

5. The short Sinfonia-concertante of the last "Final-musik" (320 K., Vol. II., p. 87).

6. The favourite concerto in D (175, 382 K., Vol. I., p. 324).

7. Scena, "Parto, m' affretto," from "Lucio Silla" (135 K., Vol. I., p. 180), sung by Mdlle. Teyber.

8. Impromptu fantasia by Mozart, beginning with a short fugue, "because the Emperor was there" (Vol. II., p. 173), followed by variations on an air from the opera of "Der eingebildete Philosoph" by Paesiello ("Salve Tu, Domine"), and when the thunder of applause obliged him to play again, he chose the air "Unser dummer Pöbel meint," from Gluck's "Pilgrims of Mecca," as a theme for variations.

9. A new rondo, composed for Madame Lange, and performed by her (416 K.).

10. The last movement of the first symphony.

{MARRIED LIFE.}

(286)

This programme makes it evident that the demands on a concert-giver were far greater then than now, and the public were undoubtedly more patient listeners. "What pleased me most," wrote Wolfgang to his father (March 29, 1783), "was the sight of the Emperor, and how pleased he was, and how he applauded me. It is always his custom to send the money for his box to the pay-place before he comes to the theatre; otherwise I might certainly have expected more (than twenty-five ducats), for his delight was beyond all bounds." A short time after Mozart played a concerto at Mdlle. Teyber's concert.[48] Again the rondo was encored, but when he sat down to the piano again, he had the desk removed in order to improvise. "This little surprise delighted the audience immensely; they clapped, and cried 'Bravo, bravissimo!'" The Emperor did not leave this concert until Mozart had quite finished playing. So the latter in high glee informs his father (April 12,1783). In Lent, 1784,[49] besides a concert in the theatre, which took place in April, Mozart proposed to give six subscription concerts, and he begs his father to send him the score of "Idomeneo," because he intended to produce it (December 6, 1783).

The pianoforte teacher Richter had established Saturday concerts, which were attended by the nobility only upon the understanding that Mozart was to play; after playing at three of them he raised subscriptions (six florins) for three concerts of his own, which took place on the three last Wednesdays in Lent (March 17, 24, and 31), in a fine hall belonging to Trattnern, a bookseller.[50] The list of subscribers

{LENTEN CONCERTS, 1784.}

(287)

numbered 174 names,[51] thirty more than were procured by the partners, Richter and Fischer; the latter was a violin-player, married to Storace, the singer.[52].

"The first concert, on the 17th," Mozart writes (March 20, 1784), "went off well; the hall was crammed full, and the new concerto, which I played, was very well received; every one is talking about the concert." The succeeding performances were equally successful, so that he was able to assure his father that they had been of considerable service to him. Besides the subscription concerts, he gave two others in the theatre, which also went off well. "To-morrow should have been my first concert in the theatre," he writes (March 20, 1784), "but Prince Louis Liechtenstein has an operatic performance which would have taken half the nobility from my audience, besides some of the chief members of the orchestra. So I have postponed it, in a printed advertisement, to April 1. He wrote two great concertos[53] and the quintet for piano and wind instruments, which was enthusiastically applauded. "I myself," he adds, "consider it the best thing I ever wrote in my life. I do wish you could have heard it! And how beautifully it was performed! To tell the truth, I grew tired of the mere playing towards the end, and it reflects no small credit on me that my audience did not in any degree share the fatigue."

In the following year Leopold Mozart visited his son in Vienna, and was an eye-witness of his popularity. He

{MARRIED LIFE.}

(288)

writes to his daughter (January 22, 1785): "I have this moment received a line from your brother, saying that his concerts begin on February 11, and are to continue every Friday." He arranged to be in Vienna for this concert, which was given on the Mehlgrube, with a subscription list of over one hundred and fifty at three ducats each. He wrote to Marianne at the conclusion of the concert (February 11, 1784): "Wolfgang played an admirable new concerto, which was in the copyist's hands when we arrived yesterday; your brother had not even time to try over the rondo. The concerto is in D minor" (466 K., No. 8). The second concert, too, "was splendid"; and at a benefit concert in the theatre for which Wolfgang wrote the Concerto in C major (467 K., No. 1) he made 559 florins, "which we had not expected, as the list for his subscription concerts numbers one hundred and fifty persons, and he has often played at other people's concerts for nothing," as L. Mozart writes (March 12, 1785). He played at Madame Laschi's concert on February 12, 1785, a splendid concerto which he had composed for the blind pianiste in Paris, Marie Thérèse Paradies (1759-1824); this is probably the Concerto in B major (456 K., No. 11) dated September 30, 1784. "When your brother made his exit," writes the father, "the Emperor bowed to him, hat in hand, and called: 'Bravo, Mozart!' He was very much applauded on his entrance." During the Lent of 1786 Mozart had, as he wrote to his father (December 28,1785), three subscription concerts, with one hundred and twenty subscribers; for these he wrote three new concertos. One in E flat major (482 K., No. 6) on December 26, 1785, another in A major (488 K., No. 2) on March 2, 1786, and the third in C minor on March 24, 1786, the andante of which he was obliged to repeat at the concert of April 7, the last given in the theatre.[54] In Advent of the same year, as he informs his father (December 8, 1786), he gave four concerts at the Casino, for which he composed a new Concerto in C major (503 K., No. 16), dated December 4, 1786; in January of the same year he

{PRIVATE CONCERTS.}

(289)

journeyed to Pragüe, where he was received with enthusiasm as the composer of "Figaro." In obedience to the general desire, he played at a great concert in the Opera-House, to a very crowded audience; Mozart was recalled three times, and when at last he improvised variations on "Non più andrai" there was no end to the applause; a second concert was attended with eqally brilliant results. Madame Storace informed L. Mozart, who wrote the news to his daughter (March 1, 1787), that Wolfgang had made one thousand florins in Prague.

Even if it be granted that the honour and profit of these concerts did not equal that which was accorded to celebrated vocalists of the day,[55] yet it would be unjust to maintain that Mozart was not appreciated by the public, and that they failed to express their appreciation in hard cash. Any comparison with the unexampled success attained by great performers of a later day ought not to leave out of sight that the concert-visiting public has enormously increased since that time, when this enjoyment was the exclusive privilege of the higher ranks.

The growing interest for literature and art was then just beginning to awaken in the citizen class some desire for participation in theatrical performances and concerts; but still the concert public of that time had very little resemblance to that which we now expect to find. The difference shows itself in the private concerts. During the winter, and particularly during Lent, musical performances were the chief means of entertainment among the nobility and wealthy citizens. Amateur theatricals were also very fashionable, and even operas were often given in private.[56] An opera by Prince Liechtenstein has been mentioned before (Vol. II., p. 287); Mozart's "Idomeneo" was given in 1786 at the private theatre of Prince Auersperg, where in 1782 an Italian opera had been given in honour of the Grand

{MARRIED LIFE.}

(290)

Duke;[57] Kelly had heard the Countéss Hatzfeld[58] sing Gluck's "Alceste" there incomparably well.[59]

Noblemen of high rank often maintained their own musical establishments; and though this did not often consist, as in the case of Prince Esterhazy or the Prince von Hildburghausen,[60] of a complete orchestra, yet the retinue of most of the nobility (especially in Bohemia) were capable of taking part in orchestral music,[61] or there was at least a band of wind instruments to play during meals or in serenades.[62] But for the private performances of which we have just spoken a complete orchestra was always employed,[63] which was an easier matter then than it would be now that orchestras are so much more fully appointed. This arrangement was of the greatest importance for the musical profession. The frequent concerts gave opportunity for a large number of musicians to educate themselves into good orchestral players, and the composers found constant employment in every branch of their art. Patrons vied with each other in the production of new works by distinguished masters, and above all in the acquisition of celebrated performers. The expense of musical soirées was very great, but custom made it a point of honour among the aristocracy to patronise the art which then surpassed all others in public estimation.

Mozart's popularity as a pianist would, as a matter of course, render him much in request at these private concerts. As early as the winter of 1782 he was engaged for all the concerts given by Prince Gallitzin, the Russian ambassador, who "placed his carriage at my disposal both going and returning, and treated me in the handsomest

{PRIVATE CONCERTS--NOBLE PATRONS.}

(291)