63.
Munich, Oct. 6, 1777.
Mamma cannot write; in the first place, she is not inclined, and,
secondly, she has a headache. So I must hold the pen for her and keep
faith with her. I am just going with the Professor to call on Madlle.
Keiserin. Yesterday we had in our house a clerical wedding, or altum
tempus ecclesiasticum. There was dancing, but I only danced four
minuets, and was in my own room again by eleven o'clock, for, out of
fifty young ladies, there was only one who danced in time--Madlle.
Kaser, a sister of Count Perusa's secretary. The Professor thought fit
to leave me in the lurch, so I did not go to Madlle. Keiserin, because
I don't know where she lives. Last Saturday, the 4th, on the stately
and solemn occasion of the name-day of his Royal Highness the Archduke
Albert, we had a select music-party at home, which commenced at
half-past three o'clock and finished at eight. M. Dubreil, whom papa no
doubt remembers, was also present; he is a pupil of Tartini's. In the
forenoon he gave a lesson on the violin to the youngest son, Carl, and I
chanced to come in at the time, I never gave him credit for much talent,
but I saw that he took great pains in giving his lesson; and when we
entered into conversation about violin, concert, and orchestral playing,
he reasoned very well, and was always of my opinion, so I retracted my
former sentiments with regard to him, and was persuaded that I should
find him play well in time, and a correct violinist in the orchestra.
I, therefore, invited him to be so kind as to attend our little music
rehearsal that afternoon. We played, first of all, the two quintets of
Haydn, but to my dismay I could scarcely hear Dubreil, who could not
play four continuous bars without a mistake. He could never find the
positions, and he was no good friend to the sospirs [short pauses]. The
only good thing was that he spoke politely and praised the quintets;
otherwise--As it was, I said nothing to him, but he kept constantly
saying himself, "I beg your pardon, but really I am out again! the thing
is puzzling, but fine!" I invariably replied, "It does not in the least
signify; we are only among ourselves." I then played the concertos in
C, in B, and in E flat, and after that a trio of mine. This was finely
accompanied, truly! In the adagio I was obliged to play six bars of his
part. As a finale, I played my last divertimento in B; they all pricked
up their ears. I played as if I had been the greatest violin-player in
all Europe.
The Sunday after, at three o'clock, we were at a certain Herr von
Hamm's. The Bishop of Chiemsee set off to-day for Salzburg. N. B.--I
send my sister, by him, "6 duetti a clavicembalo e violino," by
Schuster. I have often played them here; they are by no means bad. If
I remain long enough, I intend to compose six in this style, for it is
much liked here.
64.
Munich, Oct. 11, 1777.
WHY have I not as yet written anything about Misliweczeck? [See No. 43.]
Because I was only too glad not to think of him; for when he is spoken
of I invariably hear how highly he praises me, and what a kind and
true friend he is of mine; but then follow pity and lamentation. He
was described to me, and deeply was I distressed. How could I bear that
Misliweczeck, my intimate friend, should be in the same town, nay, even
in the same corner of the world with me, and neither see him nor speak
to him? Impossible! so I resolved to go to visit him. On the previous
day, I called on the manager of the Duke's Hospital to ask if I might
see my friend in the garden, which I thought best, though the doctors
assured me there was no longer any risk of infection. The manager agreed
to my proposal, and said I should find him in the garden between eleven
and twelve o'clock, and, if he was not there when I came, to send for
him. Next day I went with Herr von Hamm, secretary in the Crown Office,
(of whom I shall speak presently,) and mamma to the Duke's Hospital.
Mamma went into the Hospital church, and we into the garden.
Misliweczeck was not there, so we sent him a message. I saw him coming
across, and knew him at once from his manner of walking. I must tell
you that he had already sent me his remembrances by Herr Heller, a
violoncello-player, and begged me to visit him before I left Munich.
When he came up to me, we shook hands cordially. "You see," said he,
"how unfortunate I am." These words and his appearance, which papa is
already aware of from description, so went to my heart that I could only
say, with tears in my eyes, "I pity you from my heart, my dear friend."
He saw how deeply I was affected, so rejoined quite cheerfully, "Now
tell me what you are doing; when I heard that you were in Munich, I
could scarcely believe it; how could Mozart be here and not long ago
have come to see me?" "I hope you will forgive me, but I had such a
number of visits to make, and I have so many kind friends here." "I feel
quite sure that you have indeed many kind friends, but a truer friend
than myself you cannot have." He asked me whether papa had told me
anything of a letter he had received. I said, "Yes, he did write to me,"
(I was quite confused, and trembled so much in every limb that I could
scarcely speak,) "but he gave me no details." He then told me that
Signor Gaetano Santoro, the Neapolitan impresario, was obliged, owing
to impegni and protezione, to give the composition of the opera for this
Carnival to a certain Maestro Valentini; but he added, "Next year he
has three at liberty, one of which is to be at my service. But as I
have already composed six times for Naples, I don't in the least mind
undertaking the less promising one, and making over to you the best
libretto, viz. the one for the Carnival. God knows whether I shall
be able to travel by that time, but if not, I shall send back the
scrittura. The company for next year is good, being all people whom I
have recommended. You must know that I have such influence in Naples
that, when I say engage such a one, they do so at once." Marquesi is
the primo uomo, whom he, and indeed all Munich too, praises very highly;
Marchiani is a good prima donna; and there is a tenor, whose name I
cannot recall, but Misliweczeck says he is the best in all Italy. He
also said, "I do beg of you to go to Italy; there one is esteemed and
highly prized." And in truth he is right. When I come to reflect on the
subject, in no country have I received such honors, or been so esteemed,
as in Italy, and nothing contributes more to a man's fame than to have
written Italian operas, and especially for Naples. He said he would
write a letter for me to Santoro, which I was to copy out when I went
to see him next day; but finding it impossible to return, he sent me
a sketch of the letter to-day. I was told that when Misliweczeck heard
people here speaking of Becke, or other performers on the piano, he
invariably said, "Let no one deceive himself; none can play like Mozart;
in Italy, where the greatest masters are, they speak of no one but
Mozart; when his name is mentioned, not a word is said of others." I can
now write the letter to Naples when I please; but, indeed, the sooner
the better. I should, however, first like to have the opinion of that
highly discreet Hofcapellmeister, Herr von Mozart. I have the most
ardent desire to write another opera. The distance is certainly great,
but the period is still a long way off when I am to write this opera,
and there may be many changes before then. I think I might at all events
undertake it. If, in the mean time, I get no situation, eh, bien! I
shall then have a resource in Italy. I am at all events certain to
receive 100 ducats in the Carnival; and when I have once written for
Naples I shall be sought for everywhere. As papa well knows, there is an
opera buffa in Naples in spring, summer, and autumn, for which I might
write for the sake of practice, not to be quite idle. It is true that
there is not much to be got by this, but still there is something,
and it would be the means of gaining more honor and reputation than by
giving a hundred concerts in Germany, and I am far happier when I have
something to compose, which is my chief delight and passion; and if I
get a situation anywhere, or have hopes of one, the scrittura would be
a great recommendation to me, and excite a sensation, and cause me to be
more thought of. This is mere talk, but still I say what is in my heart.
If papa gives me any good grounds to show that I am wrong, then I
will give it up, though, I own, reluctantly. Even when I hear an opera
discussed, or am in a theatre myself and hear voices, oh! I really am
beside myself!
To-morrow, mamma and I are to meet Misliweczeck in the Hospital garden
to take leave of him; for he wished me last time to fetch mamma out
of church, as he said he should like to see the mother of so great a
virtuoso. My dear papa, do write to him as often as you have time to do
so; you cannot confer a greater pleasure on him, for the man is quite
forsaken. Sometimes he sees no one for a whole week, and he said to me,
"I do assure you it does seem so strange to me to see so few people; in
Italy I had company every day." He looks thin, of course, but is still
full of fire and life and genius, and the same kind, animated person
he always was. People talk much of his oratorio of "Abraham and Isaac,"
which he produced here. He has just completed (with the exception of
a few arias) a Cantata, or Serenata, for Lent; and when he was at the
worst he wrote an opera for Padua. Herr Heller is just come from him.
When I wrote to him yesterday I sent him the Serenata that I wrote in
Salzburg: for the Archduke Maximilian ["Il Re Pastore"].
Now to turn to something else. Yesterday I went with mamma immediately
after dinner to take coffee with the two Fraulein von Freysinger. Mamma,
however, took none, but drank two bottles of Tyrolese wine. At three
o'clock she went home again to make preparations for our journey. I,
however, went with the two ladies to Herr von Hamm's, whose three young
ladies each played a concerto, and I one of Aichner's prima vista, and
then went on extemporizing. The teacher of these little simpletons,
the Demoiselles Hamm, is a certain clerical gentleman of the name of
Schreier. He is a good organ-player, but no pianist. He kept staring
at me with an eye-glass. He is a reserved kind of man who does not talk
much; he patted me on the shoulder, sighed, and said, "Yes--you are--you
understand--yes--it is true--you are an out-and-outer!" By the by, can
you recall the name of Freysingen--the papa of the two pretty girls I
mentioned? He says he knows you well, and that he studied with you. He
particularly remembers Messenbrunn, where papa (this was quite new
to me) played most incomparably on the organ. He said, "It was quite
startling to see the pace at which both hands and feet went, but quite
inimitable; a thorough master indeed; my father thought a great deal of
him; and how he humbugged the priests about entering the Church! You are
just what he was then, as like as possible; only he was a degree shorter
when I knew him." A propos, a certain Hofrath Effeln sends you his kind
regards; he is one of the best Hofraths here, and would long ago have
been made chancellor but for one defect--TIPPLING. When we saw him
for the first time at Albert's, both mamma and I thought, "What an
odd-looking fish!" Just imagine a very tall man, stout and corpulent,
and a ridiculous face. When he crosses the room to another table, he
folds both hands on his stomach, stoops very low, and then draws himself
up again, and makes little nods; and when this is over he draws back his
right foot, and does this to each individual separately. He says that
he knows papa intimately. I am now going for a little to the play. Next
time I will write more fully, but I can't possibly go on to-day, for my
fingers do ache uncommonly.
Munich, October 11th, at 1/4 to 12 at night, I write as follows:--I
have been at the Drittl comedy, but only went in time for the ballet, or
rather the pantomime, which I had not before seen. It is called "Das von
der fur Girigaricanarimanarischaribari verfertigte Ei." It was very good
and funny. We are going to-morrow to Augsburg on account of Prince Taxis
not being at Ratisbon but at Teschingen. He is, in fact, at present at
his country-seat, which is, however, only an hour from Teschingen. I
send my sister, with this, four preludes; she will see and hear for
herself the different keys into which they lead. My compliments to all
my kind friends, particularly to young Count Arco, to Madlle. Sallerl,
and to my best of all friends, Herr Bullinger; I do beg that next Sunday
at the usual eleven-o'clock music he will be so good as to make an
authoritative oration in my name, and present my regards to all the
members of the orchestra and exhort them to industry, that I may not one
day be accused of being a humbug, for I have everywhere extolled their
orchestra, and I intend always to do so.
65.
Augsburg, Oct. 14, 1777.
I HAVE made no mistake in my date, for I write before dinner, and I
think that next Friday, the day after to-morrow, we shall be off again.
Pray hear how generous the gentlemen of Augsburg are. In no place was
I ever so overwhelmed with marks of distinction as here. My first visit
was to the Stadtpfleger Longo Tabarro [Burgomaster Langenmantl].
My cousin, [Footnote: Leopold Mozart had a brother in Augsburg, a
bookbinder, whose daughter, "das Basle" (the cousin), was two years
younger than Mozart.] a good, kind, honest man and worthy citizen, went
with me, and had the honor to wait in the hall like a footman till my
interview with the high and mighty Stadtpfleger was over. I did not
fail first of all to present papa's respectful compliments. He deigned
graciously to remember you, and said, "And pray how have things gone
with him?" "Vastly well, God be praised!" I instantly rejoined, "and I
hope things have also gone well with you?" He then became more civil,
and addressed me in the third person, so I called him "Sir"; though,
indeed, I had done so from the first. He gave me no peace till I went
up with him to see his son-in-law (on the second floor), my cousin
meanwhile having the pleasure of waiting in the staircase-hall. I was
obliged to control myself with all my might, or I must have given some
polite hint about this. On going upstairs I had the satisfaction of
playing for nearly three-quarters of an hour on a good clavichord
of Stein's, in the presence of the stuck-up young son, and his prim
condescending wife, and the simple old lady. I first extemporized, and
then played all the music he had, prima, vista, and among others some
very pretty pieces of Edlmann's. Nothing could be more polite than they
all were, and I was equally so, for my rule is to behave to people just
as they behave to me; I find this to be the best plan. I said that I
meant to go to Stein's after dinner, so the young man offered to take me
there himself. I thanked him for his kindness, and promised to return
at two o'clock. I did so, and we went together in company with his
brother-in-law, who looks a genuine student. Although I had begged that
my name should not be mentioned, Herr von Langenmantl was so incautious
as to say, with a simper, to Herr Stein, "I have the honor to present to
you a virtuoso on the piano." I instantly protested against this, saying
that I was only an indifferent pupil of Herr Sigl in Munich, who had
charged me with a thousand compliments to him. Stein shook his head
dubiously, and at length said, "Surely I have the honor of seeing M.
Mozart?" "Oh, no," said I; "my name is Trazom, and I have a letter for
you." He took the letter and was about to break the seal instantly, but
I gave him no time for that, saying, "What is the use of reading the
letter just now? Pray open the door of your saloon at once, for I am
so very anxious to see your pianofortes." "With all my heart," said he,
"just as you please; but for all that I believe I am not mistaken." He
opened the door, and I ran straight up to one of the three pianos that
stood in the room. I began to play, and he scarcely gave himself time
to glance at the letter, so anxious was he to ascertain the truth; so
he only read the signature. "Oh!" cried he, embracing me, and crossing
himself and making all sorts of grimaces from intense delight. I
will write to you another day about his pianos. He then took me to a
coffee-house, but when we went in I really thought I must bolt, there
was such a stench of tobacco-smoke, but for all that I was obliged to
bear it for a good hour. I submitted to it all with a good grace, though
I could have fancied that I was in Turkey. He made a great fuss to me
about a certain Graf, a composer (of flute concertos only); and
said, "He is something quite extraordinary," and every other possible
exaggeration. I became first hot and then cold from nervousness. This
Graf is a brother of the two who are in Harz and Zurich. He would
not give up his intention, but took me straight to him--a dignified
gentleman indeed; he wore a dressing-gown that I would not be ashamed to
wear in the street. All his words are on stilts, and he has a habit of
opening his mouth before knowing what he is going to say; so he often
shuts it again without having said anything. After a great deal of
ceremony he produced a concerto for two flutes; I was to play first
violin. The concerto is confused, not natural, too abrupt in its
modulations, and devoid of all genius. When it was over I praised it
highly, for, indeed, he deserves this. The poor man must have had labor
and study enough to write it. At last they brought a clavichord of
Stein's out of the next room, a very good one, but inch-thick with dust.
Herr Graf, who is director here, stood there looking like a man who had
hitherto believed his own modulations to be something very clever, but
all at once discovers that others may be still more so, and without
grating on the ear. In a word, they all seemed lost in astonishment.
66.
Augsburg, Oct. 17, 1777.
WITH regard to the daughter of Hamm, the Secretary of War, I can only
say that there can be no doubt she has a decided talent for music, for
she has only learned three years, and can play a number of pieces very
well. I find it difficult, however, to explain distinctly the impression
she makes on me while she is playing; she seems to me so curiously
constrained, and she has such an odd way of stalking over the keys with
her long bony fingers! To be sure, she has had no really good master,
and if she remains in Munich she will never become what her father
wishes and hopes, for he is eager beyond measure that she should one day
be a distinguished pianiste. If she goes to papa at Salzburg, it will
be a twofold benefit to her, both as to music and common sense, of which
she certainly has no great share. She has often made me laugh very much,
and you would have amusement enough for your trouble. She is too absent
to think of eating much. You say I ought to have practised with her? I
really could not for laughing, for when I occasionally played something
with the right hand, she instantly said bravissimo, and that in the
voice of a little mouse.
I will now relate to you as briefly as possible the Augsburg history
to which I have already alluded. Herr von Fingerle, who sent his
compliments to you, was also at Herr Graf's. The people were very civil,
and discussed the concert I proposed to give, all saying, "It will be
one of the most brilliant concerts ever given in Augsburg. You have
a great advantage in having made the acquaintance of our Stadtpfleger
Langenmantl; besides, the name of Mozart has much influence here." So
we separated mutually pleased. I must now tell you that Herr von
Langenmantl, junior, when at Herr Stein's, said that he would pledge
himself to arrange a concert in the Stube, [Footnote: The Bauernstube,
the Patrician Casino.] (as something very select, and complimentary to
me,) for the nobility alone. You can't think with what zeal he spoke,
and promised to undertake it. We agreed that I should call on him the
next morning for the answer; accordingly I went; this was on the 13th.
He was very polite, but said that as yet he could not say anything
decided. I played there again for an hour, and he invited me next day,
the 14th, to dinner. In the forenoon he sent to beg that I would come
to him at eleven o'clock, and bring some pieces with me, as he had
asked some of the professional musicians, and they intended to have some
music. I immediately sent some music, and went myself at eleven, when,
with many lame excuses, he coolly said, "By the by, I could do nothing
about the concert; oh, I was in such a rage yesterday on your account.
The patrician members of the Casino said that their cashbox was at
a very low ebb, and that you were not the kind of virtuoso who could
expect a souverain d'or." I merely smiled, and said, "I quite agree with
them." N. B.--He is Intendant of Music in the Casino, and the old father
a magistrate! but I cared very little about it. We sat down to dinner;
the old gentleman also dined up-stairs with us, and was very civil,
but did not say a word about the concert. After dinner I played two
concertos, something out of my head, and then a trio of Hafeneder's
on the violin. I would gladly have played more, but I was so badly
accompanied that it gave me the colic. He said to me, good-naturedly,
"Don't let us part company to-day; go to the play with us, and return
here to supper." We were all very merry. When we came back from the
theatre, I played again till we went to supper. Young Langenmantl had
already questioned me in the forenoon about my cross, [Footnote: Mozart,
by his father's desire, wore the "Order of the Golden Spur," conferred
on him by the Pope.] and I told him exactly how I got it, and what it
was. He and his brother-in-law said over and over again, "Let us order a
cross, too, that we may be on a par with Herr Mozart." I took no notice
of this. They also repeatedly said, "Hallo! you sir! Knight of the
Spur!" I said not a word; but during supper it became really too bad.
"What may it have cost? three ducats? must you have permission to wear
it? Do you pay extra for leave to do so? We really must get one just
like it." An officer there of the name of Bach, said, "For shame! what
would you do with the cross?" That young ass, Kurzen Mantl, winked at
him, but I saw him, and he knew that I did. A pause ensued, and then he
offered me snuff, saying, "There, show that you don't care a pinch of
snuff for it." I still said nothing. At length he began once more in
a sneering tone: "I may then send to you to-morrow, and you will be so
good as to lend me the cross for a few minutes, and I will return it
immediately after I have spoken to the goldsmith about it. I know that
when I ask him its value (for he is a queer kind of man) he will say
a Bavarian thaler; it can't be worth more, for it is not gold, only
copper, ha! ha!" I said, "By no means--it is lead, ha! ha!" I was
burning with anger and rage. "I say," rejoined he, "I suppose I may,
if need be, leave out the spur?" "Oh, yes," said I, "for you have one
already in your head; I, too, have one in mine, but of a very different
kind, and I should be sorry to exchange mine for yours; so there, take
a pinch of snuff on that!" and I offered him snuff. He became pale with
rage, but began again: "Just now that order looked so well on that grand
waistcoat of yours." I made no reply, so he called the servant and said
"Hallo! you must have greater respect for my brother-in-law and myself
when we wear the same cross as Herr Mozart; take a pinch of snuff on
that!" I started up; all did the same, and showed great embarrassment.
I took my hat and my sword, and said, "I hope to have the pleasure of
seeing you to-morrow." "To-morrow I shall not be here." "Well, then,
the next morning, when I shall still be here." "Ho, ho! you surely don't
mean to"--"I mean nothing; you are a set of boors, so good-night," and
off I went.
Next day I told the whole story to Herr Stein, Herr Geniaulx, and
to Herr Director Graf--I don't mean about the cross, but how highly
disgusted I was at their having bragged so much about a concert, and
now it had come to nothing. "I call this making a fool of a person and
leaving him in the lurch. I am very sorry that I ever came here. I could
not possibly have believed that in Augsburg, my papa's native town, such
an insult could have been offered to his son." You cannot imagine, dear
papa, how angry and indignant these three gentlemen were, saying, "Oh,
you must positively give a concert here; we don't stand in need of
the patricians." I, however, adhered to my resolution and said, "I am
willing to give a small farewell concert at Herr Stein's, for my
few kind friends here who are connoisseurs." The Director was quite
distressed, and exclaimed, "It is abominable--shameful; who could have
believed such a thing of Langenmantl! Par Dieu! if he really wished it,
no doubt it would have been carried through." We then separated. The
Director went down-stairs with me in his dressing-gown as far as the
door, and Herr Stein and Geniaulx walked home with me. They urged us to
make up our mind to stay here for a time, but we remained firm. I must
not forget to say that, when young Langenmantl lisped out to me, in
his usual cool indifferent way, the pleasant news as to my concert, he
added, that the patricians invited me to their concert next Thursday. I
said, "I will come as one of the audience." "Oh, we hope you will give
us the pleasure of hearing you play also." "Well, perhaps I may; why
not?" But having received so grievous an insult the next evening, I
resolved not to go near him again, to steer clear of the whole set of
patricians, and to leave Augsburg. During dinner, on the 16th, I was
called out by a servant-maid of Langenmantl's, who wished to know
whether he might expect me to go with him to the concert? and he begged
I would come to him immediately after dinner. I sent my compliments in
return, that I had no intention of going to the concert; nor could I
come to him, as I was already engaged (which was quite true); but that
I would call next morning to take leave of him, as on Saturday next, at
furthest, I was to leave Augsburg. In the meantime Herr Stein had been
to see the other patricians of the Evangelical party, and spoke so
strongly to them that these gentlemen were quite excited. "What!" said
they, "shall we permit a man who does us so much honor to leave this
without even hearing him? Herr von Langenmantl, having already heard
him, thinks that is enough."
At last they became so excited that Herr Kurzenmantl, the excellent
youth, was obliged to go to Herr Stein himself to entreat him, in the
name of the patricians, to do all in his power to persuade me to attend
the concert, but to say that I must not expect great things. At last
I went with him, though with considerable reluctance. The principal
gentlemen were very polite, particularly Baron Belling, who is a
director or some such animal; he opened my music-portfolio himself. I
brought a symphony with me, which they played, and I took a violin part.
The orchestra is enough to throw any one into fits. That young puppy
Langenmantl was all courtesy, but his face looked as impertinent as
ever; he said to me, "I was rather afraid you might have escaped us,
or been offended by our jokes the other evening." "By no means," said I
coolly; "you are still very young; but I advise you to be more cautious
in future, for I am not accustomed to such jokes. The subject on which
you were so facetious did you no credit, nor did it answer your purpose,
for you see I still wear the order; you had better have chosen some
other topic for your wit." "I assure you," said he, "it was only my
brother-in-law who"--"Let us say no more about it," said I. "We had
nearly been deprived of the pleasure of seeing you altogether," he
rejoined. "Yes; had it not been for Herr Stein, I certainly should not
have come; and, to tell you the truth, I am only here now to prevent you
Augsburg gentlemen being the laughing-stock of other countries, which
would have been the case if I had told them that I was eight days in the
city where my father was born, without any one there taking the trouble
to hear me!" I played a concerto, and all went off well except the
accompaniment; and as a finale I played a sonata. At the close, Baron
Belling thanked me in the warmest manner in the name of all the company;
and, begging me to consider only their good will, presented me with two
ducats.
They give me no peace here till I agree to give a public concert next
Saturday. Perhaps--but I own I am heartily sick of it all. I shall be
indeed glad when I arrive at a place where there is a court. I may with
truth say that, were it not for my kind cousins, my regrets would be as
numberless as the hairs on my head for ever having come to Augsburg. I
must write you some account of my fair cousin, but you must excuse my
deferring this till to-morrow, for one ought to be quite fresh to praise
her as highly as she deserves.
The 17th.--I now write early in the morning to say that my cousin is
pretty, intelligent, lovable, clever, and gay, probably because she
has lived so much in society; she was also some time at Munich. We do,
indeed, exactly suit each other, for she too is rather inclined to be
satirical, so we banter our friends most merrily together. [The Mozart
family were both well known and dreaded for their somewhat sharp
tongues.]
67.
Augsburg, Oct. 17, 1777.
I must now tell you about the Stein pianos. Before seeing these, Spath's
pianos were my favorites; but I must own that I give the preference to
those of Stein, for they damp much better than those in Ratisbon. If I
strike hard, whether I let my fingers rest on the notes or lift them,
the tone dies away at the same instant that it is heard. Strike the
keys as I choose, the tone always remains even, never either jarring or
failing to sound. It is true that a piano of this kind is not to be had
for less than three hundred florins, but the pains and skill which Stein
bestows on them cannot be sufficiently repaid. His instruments have a
feature of their own; they are supplied with a peculiar escapement.
Not one in a hundred makers attends to this; but, without it, it is
impossible that a piano should not buzz and jar. His hammers fall as
soon as they touch the strings, whether the keys be held down by the
fingers or not. When he has completed an instrument of this class,
(which he told me himself,) he tries all kinds of passages and runs on
it, and works away at it, testing its powers till it is capable of doing
anything, for he labors not for his own benefit alone, (or he might be
saved much trouble,) but for that of music. He often says, "If I were
not such a passionate lover of music, playing also myself a little on
the piano, I should long ago have lost patience with my work, but I like
my instruments to respond to the player, and to be durable." His pianos
do really last well. He warrants the sounding-board neither breaking nor
cracking; when he has finished one, he exposes it in the air to rain,
snow, sun, and every kind of devilry, that it may give way, and then
inserts slips of wood which he glues in, making it quite strong and
solid. He is very glad when it does crack, for then he is pretty sure
nothing further can happen to it. He frequently makes cuts into them
himself, and then glues them up, thus making them doubly strong. He
has three of these pianos at this moment finished, and I played on them
again to-day.
We dined to-day with young Herr Gassner, who is the handsome widower
of a lovely young wife; they were only married two years. He is an
excellent and kind young man; he gave us a capital dinner. A colleague
of the Abbe Henri Bullinger, and Wishofer also dined there, and an
ex-Jesuit, who is at present Capellmeister in the cathedral here. He
knows Herr Schachtner well [court-trumpeter at Salzburg], and was leader
of his band in Ingolstadt; he is called Father Gerbl. Herr Gassner, and
one of his wife's unmarried sisters, mamma, our cousin, and I went after
dinner to Herr Stein's. At four o'clock came the Capellmeister and
Herr Schmittbauer, the organist of St. Ulrich, a worthy good old man.
I played at sight a sonata of Becke's, which was rather difficult, but
very poor, al solito. The astonishment of the Capellmeister and the
organist was indescribable. I have played my six sonatas by heart
repeatedly, both here and in Munich. The fifth in G, I played at
the distinguished Casino concert, and the last in D, which has an
incomparable effect on Stein's pianos. The pedals, pressed by the knees,
are also better made by him than by any one else; you scarcely require
to touch them to make them act, and as soon as the pressure is removed
not the slightest vibration is perceptible.
To-morrow perhaps I shall come to his organs, that is, write to you
about them, and I reserve for the last the subject of his little
daughter. When I said to Herr Stein that I should like to play on one of
his organs, as the organ was my passion, he seemed surprised, and
said, "What! such a man as you, so great a pianist, like to play on an
instrument devoid of sweetness and expression, with no gradations from
piano to forte, but always going on the same?" "That does not signify;
the organ always was, both in my eyes and ears, the king of all
instruments." "Well, just as you please." So we went together. I could
readily perceive from his conversation that he did not expect me to do
great things on his organ, evidently thinking that I should handle it
in the style of a piano. He told me that by Schobert's own desire he
had taken him also to the organ, "and very nervous it made me," said he,
"for Schobert had told everybody, and the church was nearly full. I did
not doubt the man's spirit, fire, and execution; still, this does not
much suit the organ. But the moment he began my opinion was entirely
changed." I only said in reply, "Do you then think, Herr Stein, that
I am likely to run wild on the organ?" "Oh! you!"--When we came to the
organ-loft, I began a prelude, when he laughed. A fugue followed. "I can
now quite understand why you like to play the organ," said he, "when you
can play in this manner." At first the pedal was a little awkward for
me, as it was without the breaks, beginning with C, then D E in one row,
whereas with us D and E are above, just where E flat and F sharp are
here; but I quickly mastered it.
I went also to try the old organ at St. Ulrich's. The stair that leads
to it is really dreadful. I requested that some other person might play
the organ for me, that I might go down and listen to it, for above the
organ has no effect; but I profited very little by this, for the young
leader of the choir, a priest, made such reckless runs on the organ that
it was impossible to understand them, and when he attempted harmonies
they proved only discords, being always false. Afterwards they would
insist on our going to a coffee-room, for mamma and my cousin were with
us. A certain Father Emilian, a conceited jackass and a sorry witling,
was very sweet on my cousin, and wished to have his jest with her,
but she made a jest of him. At last, when rather tipsy, (which soon
occurred,) he began to talk about music, and sang a canon, saying, "I
never in my life heard anything finer." I said, "I regret that I can't
sing it with you, for nature has not given me the power of intoning."
"No matter," said he. So he began. I made the third, but I sang
different words--thus: "Pater Emilian, oh! thou numskull"--sotto voce to
my cousin; then we laughed on for at least half an hour. The Pater said
to me, "If we only could be longer together, we could discuss the art of
musical composition." "In that case," said I, "our discussion would soon
come to an end." A famous rap on the knuckles for him! TO BE CONTINUED.
68.
Augsburg, Oct. 23, 1777.
MY concert took place yesterday. Count Wolfeck interested himself much
in it, and brought some chanoinesses with him. I went to his lodgings
the very day I arrived, but he was not here at that time. A few days
ago he returned, and on hearing that I was still in Augsburg, he did not
wait for a visit from me, but at the very moment when I was taking my
hat and sword to go to call on him he walked in. I must now give you a
description of the last few days before my concert. Last Saturday I was
at St. Ulrich's, as I already told you. Some days before my cousin
took me with him to present me to the Prelate of the Holy Cross, a kind
excellent old man. Previous to going to St. Ulrich's last Saturday, I
went with my cousin to the Monastery of the Holy Cross, as the first
time I was there neither the Deacon nor the Procurator was at home,
and my cousin told me that the Procurator was very jolly. [Here mamma
inserts a few lines--which frequently occurs in the letters. She says at
the close:] "I am quite surprised that Schuster's duets [see No. 63] are
still"--Wolfgang: "Oh, he has got them." Mamma: "No, indeed; he always
writes that he has not got them." Wolfgang: "I hate arguing; I am sure
he has got them, so there's an end of it." Mamma: "You are mistaken."
Wolfgang: "No; I am right. I will show it to mamma in his own writing."
Mamma: "Well, where is it?" Wolfgang: "Here; read it." She is reading it
at this moment.
Last Sunday I attended service at the Holy Cross, and at ten o'clock we
went to Herr Stein's, where we tried over a couple of symphonies for the
concert. Afterwards I dined with my cousin at the Holy Cross, where a
band played during dinner. Badly as they play in the monastery, I prefer
it to the Augsburg orchestra. I played a symphony, and a concerto in
B of Vanhall's, on the violin, with unanimous applause. The Dean is
a kind, jovial man, a cousin of Eberlin [deceased Capellmeister of
Salzburg]. His name is Zeschinger. He knows papa well. At night, after
supper, I played the Strassburg concerto; it went as smooth as oil;
every one praised the fine pure tone. A small clavichord was then
brought in, on which I preluded, and played a sonata and the Fischer
variations. Some of those present whispered to the Dean that he ought to
hear me play in the organ style. I asked him to give me a theme, which
he declined, but one of the monks did so. I handled it quite leisurely,
and all at once (the fugue being in G minor) I brought in a lively
movement in the major key, but in the same tempo, and then at the end
the original subject, only reversed. At last it occurred to me to
employ the lively movement for the subject of the fugue also, I did not
hesitate long, but did so at once, and it went as accurately as if Daser
[a Salzburg tailor] had taken its measure. The Dean was in a state of
great excitement. "It is over," said he, "and it's no use talking about
it, but I could scarcely have believed what I have just heard; you are
indeed an able man. My prelate told me beforehand that in his life he
never heard any one play the organ in a more finished and solid style"
(he having heard me some days previously when the Dean was not here). At
last some one brought me a fugued sonata, and asked me to play it. But I
said, "Gentlemen, I really must say this is asking rather too much,
for it is not likely I shall be able to play such a sonata at sight."
"Indeed, I think so too; it is too much; no one could do it," said the
Dean eagerly, being all in my favor. "At all events," said I, "I can but
try." I heard the Dean muttering all the time behind me, "Oh, you rogue!
oh, you knave!" I played till 11 o'clock, bombarded and besieged, as it
were, by fugue themes.
Lately, at Stein's, he brought me a sonata of Becke's, but I think
I already told you this. A propos, as to his little girl, [Footnote:
Nanette, at that time eight years old; afterwards the admirable wife
of Andreas Streicher, the friend of Schiller's youth, and one of
Beethoven's best friends in Vienna.] any one who can see and hear her
play without laughing must be Stein [stone] like her father. She perches
herself exactly opposite the treble, avoiding the centre, that she may
have more room to throw herself about and make grimaces. She rolls her
eyes and smirks; when a passage comes twice she always plays it slower
the second time, and if three times, slower still. She raises her arms
in playing a passage, and if it is to be played with emphasis she seems
to give it with her elbows and not her fingers, as awkwardly and heavily
as possible. The finest thing is, that if a passage occurs (which ought
to flow like oil) where the fingers must necessarily be changed, she
does not pay much heed to that, but lifts her hands, and quite coolly
goes on again. This, moreover, puts her in a fair way to get hold of a
wrong note, which often produces a curious effect. I only write this in
order to give you some idea of pianoforte-playing and teaching here, so
that you may in turn derive some benefit from it. Herr Stein is quite
infatuated about his daughter. She is eight years old, and learns
everything by heart. She may one day be clever, for she has genius, but
on this system she will never improve, nor will she ever acquire much
velocity of finger, for her present method is sure to make her hand
heavy. She will never master what is the most difficult and necessary,
and in fact the principal thing in music, namely, time; because from her
infancy she has never been in the habit of playing in correct time.
Herr Stein and I discussed this point together for at least two hours.
I have, however, in some degree converted him; he asks my advice now on
every subject. He was quite devoted to Becke, and now he sees and hears
that I can do more than Becke, that I make no grimaces, and yet play
with so much expression that he himself acknowledges none of his
acquaintances have ever handled his pianos as I do. My keeping so
accurately in time causes them all much surprise. The left hand being
quite independent in the tempo rubato of an adagio, they cannot at all
comprehend. With them the left hand always yields to the right. Count
Wolfeck and others, who have a passionate admiration for Becke, said
lately publicly in a concert that I beat Becke hollow. Count Wolfeck
went round the room saying, "In my life I never heard anything like
this." He said to me, "I must tell you that I never heard you play as
you did to-day, and I mean to say so to your father as soon as I go to
Salzburg." What do you think was the first piece after the symphony?
The concerto for three pianos. Herr Demmler took the first part, I the
second, and Herr Stein the third. I then played a solo, my last sonata
in D, for Durnitz, and afterwards my concerto in B; then again a solo
in the organ style, namely, a fugue in C minor, then all of a sudden a
splendid sonata in C major, finishing with a rondo, all extempore. What
a noise and commotion there was! Herr Stein did nothing but make faces
and grimaces of astonishment. Herr Demmler was seized with fits of
laughter, for he is a queer creature, and when anything pleases him
exceedingly, he can't help laughing heartily; indeed, on this occasion
he actually began to swear! Addio!
69.
Augsburg, Oct. 25, 1777.
The receipts of the concert were 90 florins, without deducting the
expenses. Including, therefore, the two ducats we took in the Casino
concert, we had 100 florins. The expenses of the concert did not exceed
16 florins 30 kreutzers; the room I had gratis. I believe most of the
musicians will make no charge. We have now ALTOGETHER lost about 26 or
27 florins. This is not of much moment. I am writing this on Saturday
the 25th. This morning early I received the letter with the sad news of
Frau Oberbereiterin's death. Madlle. Tonerl can now purse up her mouth,
or perhaps open it wide, and shut it again as empty as ever. As to the
baker's daughter, I have no objection to make; I foresaw all this long
ago. This was the cause of my reluctance to leave home, and finding it
so difficult to go. I hope the affair is not by this time known all over
Salzburg? I beg you, dear papa, most urgently to keep the matter quiet
as long as possible, and in the mean time to pay her father on my
account any expenses he may have incurred by her entrance into the
convent, which I will repay gladly when I return to Salzburg.
I thank you most truly, dear papa, for your good wishes on my name-day.
Do not be uneasy on my account, for I have always God before my eyes,
I acknowledge His omnipotence, I dread His wrath; but I also know His
love, His compassion and mercy towards His creatures, and that He will
never forsake His servants. When His will is done I am resigned; so I
never can fail to be happy and contented. I shall certainly also strive
to live as strictly as possible in accordance with your injunctions and
advice. Thank Herr Bullinger a thousand times for his congratulations.
I mean to write to him soon and thank him myself, but I may in the mean
time assure him that I neither know nor have any better, more sincere,
or truer friend than himself. I beg also humbly to thank Madlle.
Sallerl; pray tell her I mean to enclose some verses to show my
gratitude to her in my letter to Herr Bullinger. Thank my sister also;
she is to keep the Schuster duets, and give herself no further trouble
on the subject.
In your first letter, dear papa, you write that I lowered myself by
my conduct to that lad Langenmantl. Anything but that! I was only
straightforward, no more. I see you think he is still a boy; he is one
or two and twenty, and a married man. Can any one be considered a boy
who is married? I have never gone near him since. I left two cards
for him to-day, and excused myself for not going in, having so many
indispensable calls to make. I must now conclude, for mamma insists
absolument on going to dinner, and then to pack. To-morrow we go
straight to Wallerstein. My dear little cousin, who sends you her
regards, is anything but a prude. She dressed a la Francaise to please
me yesterday. She looked at least 5 per cent, prettier in consequence.
Now, Addio!
On the 26th of October the mother and son set off to Mannheim. The
mother writes that Wolfgang intended to write to Augsburg, "but he will
scarcely be able to do so to-day, for he is now at the rehearsal of the
oratorio; so I must beg you to accept my humble self instead." Wolfgang
then adds:--
70.
Mannheim, Oct. 30, 1777.
I must beg you also to accept my insignificancy. I went to-day with Herr
Danner to M. Cannabich's [Director of the Elector's orchestra]. He was
uncommonly polite, and I played something for him on his piano, which
is a very good one. We went together to the rehearsal. I could scarcely
help laughing when I was presented to the musicians, because, though
some who knew me by renomme were very civil and courteous, the rest,
who knew nothing whatever about me, stared in such a ludicrous way,
evidently thinking that because I am little and young nothing great
or mature is to be found in me; but they shall soon find it out.
Herr Cannabich is to take me himself to-morrow to Count Savioli, the
Intendant of Music. One good thing is that the Elector's name-day is
close at hand. The oratorio they are rehearsing is Handel's, but I did
not stay to hear it, for they first rehearsed a Psalm Magnificat of the
Vice-Capellmeister here, [Abbe] Vogler, which lasted a good hour. I must
now conclude, for I have still to write to my cousin.
71.
Mannheim, Nov. 4, 1777.
I am at Cannabich's every day, and mamma went with me there to-day. He
is a very different man from what he formerly was, [FOOTNOTE: Mozart had
been at his house, when a boy, with his father.] and the whole orchestra
say the same. He is very fond of me. He has a daughter who plays the
piano very nicely, and in order to make him still more friendly towards
me I am working just now at a sonata for her, which is finished all but
the Rondo. When I had completed the first allegro and andante, I took
it to him myself and played it over; you can't think what applause this
sonata receives. There chanced to be some of the musicians there at
the moment--young Danner, Lang, who plays the French horn, and the
hautboy-player, whose name I forget, but who plays remarkably well, and
has a pleasing delicate tone [Ramm]. I made him a present of a concerto
for the hautboy; it is being copied in Cannabich's room. The man is
wild with delight. I played him the concerto to-day at Cannabich's, and
THOUGH KNOWN TO BE MINE it pleased very much. No one said that it was
NOT WELL COMPOSED, because people here don't understand these things.
They ought to apply to the Archbishop; he would soon put them on the
right scent. [FOOTNOTE: The Archbishop never was satisfied with any of
the compositions that Mozart wrote for his concerts, but invariably had
some fault to find with them.] I played all my six sonatas to-day at
Cannabich's. Herr Kapellmeister Holzbauer went with me to-day to Count
Savioli's. Cannabich was there at the time. Herr Holzbauer said to the
Count in Italian that I wished to have the honor of playing before his
Serene Highness the Elector. "I was here fifteen years ago," said
I, "but now I am older and more advanced, and I may say in music
also"--"Oh!" said the Count, "you are"--I have no idea whom he took
me for, as Cannabich interrupted him, but I affected not to hear, and
entered into conversation with the others. Still I observed that he was
speaking of me very earnestly. The Count then said to me, "I hear that
you play the piano very tolerably?" I bowed.
I must now tell you about the music here. On Saturday, All-Saints' day,
I attended high mass. The orchestra is very good and numerous. On each
side ten or eleven violins, four tenors, two hautboys, two flutes, and
two clarionets, two corni, four violoncellos, four bassoons, and four
double basses, besides trumpets and kettle-drums. This should give fine
music, but I would not venture to produce one of my masses here. Why?
From their being short? No, everything is liked short. From their church
style? By no means; but solely because NOW in Mannheim, under present
circumstances, it is necessary to write chiefly for the instruments,
for nothing can possibly be conceived worse than the voices here. Six
soprani, six alti, six tenori, and six bassi, to twenty violins and
twelve bassi, are in the same proportion as 0 to 1. Is it not so,
Herr Bullinger? It proceeds from this:--The Italians are miserably
represented: they have only two musici here, and they are already old.
This race is dying out. These soprano singers, too, would prefer singing
counter-tenor; for they can no longer take the high notes. The few boys
they have are wretched. The tenor and bass just like our singers
at funerals. Vogler, who lately conducted the mass, is barren and
frivolous--a man who imagines he can do a great deal, and does very
little. The whole orchestra dislike him. To-day, Sunday, I heard a mass
of Holzbauer's, which is now twenty-six years old, but excellent. He
writes very well, and has a good church style, arranges the vocal parts
as well as the instrumental, and writes good fugues. They have two
organists here; it would be worth while to come to Mannheim on purpose
to hear them--which I had a famous opportunity of doing, as it is the
custom here for the organist to play during the whole of the Benedictus.
I heard the second organist first, and then the other. In my opinion the
second is preferable to the first; for when I heard the former, I asked,
"Who is that playing on the organ?" "Our second organist." "He plays
miserably." When the other began, I said, "Who may that be?" "Our first
organist." "Why, he plays more miserably still." I believe if they were
pounded together, something even worse would be the result. It is enough
to kill one with laughing to look at these gentlemen. The second at
the organ is like a child trying to lift a millstone. You can see his
anguish in his face. The first wears spectacles. I stood beside him at
the organ and watched him with the intention of learning something from
him; at each note he lifts his hands entirely off the keys. What he
believes to be his forte is to play in six parts, but he mostly makes
fifths and octaves. He often chooses to dispense altogether with his
right hand when there is not the slightest need to do so, and plays with
the left alone; in short, he fancies that he can do as he will, and that
he is a thorough master of his organ.
Mamma sends her love to you all; she cannot possibly write, for she has
still to say her officium. We came home very late from the grand opera
rehearsal. I must go to-morrow after high mass to the illustrious
Electress; she is resolved absolument to teach me to knit filee. I am
very eager about this, as she and the Elector wish that I should knit in
public next Thursday at the great gala concert. The young Princess here,
who is a child compared with the Electress, knits very prettily.
The Zweenbruck and his Zwobrucken (Deux Ponts) arrived here at eight
o'clock. A propos, mamma and I earnestly beg you, dear papa, to send
our charming cousin a souvenir; we both regretted so much having nothing
with us, but we promised to write to you to send her something. We wish
two things to be sent--a double neckerchief in mamma's name, like the
one she wears, and in mine some ornament; a box, or etui, or anything
you like, only it must be pretty, for she deserves it. [FOOTNOTE: The
father was still in possession of many of the ornaments and jewels
presented to these children during their artistic tours.] She and her
father took a great deal of trouble on our account, and wasted much time
on us. My cousin took the receipts for me at my concert. Addio!
72.
Mannheim, Nov. 5, 1777.