CHAPTER XIX. PARIS, 1778.

SUCH was the condition of musical affairs at the time of Mozart's

arrival in Paris. The successes on either side, and the violence of

partisan controversy, had, as might have been expected, prevented any

decisive conclusion of the dispute. We know now that Gluck remained

master of the field, and that the influence of Lully and Rameau sinking

henceforth into oblivion, Gluck determined the character of French opera

in all its essential points as it still exists, in spite of its many

Italian modifications. But at the time of

{UNFAVOURABLE PROSPECTS.}

(35)

which we are speaking the Gluckists and Piccinnists were carrying on the

warfare with greater bitterness than ever, and the old national party,

although pushed into the background, was seeking to free itself from

both influences.[1]

The interest of the public was more eagerly excited than ever, but, as

usual, more for the sake of the literary scandal and personal animosity

than with any love of art, and when audiences flocked to the opera they

desired not to enjoy but to participate in what was going on.

This was an unfortunate state of things for a young composer whose

object was to acquire an honourable position for himself; he must, in

order to be heard at all, attach himself to one or other party, and so

lose his independence, the only true foundation of excellence. To put

an end to the dispute by forcing the combatants to acknowledge a success

greater than that of either was at this juncture beyond the power of

even a transcendent genius; and Mozart brought nothing with him to Paris

but his genius.

He had failed in obtaining an introduction to the Queen Marie Antoinette

from Vienna, and access to the circle of the nobility was no

easy matter. Mozart had little to expect from the support of his

fellow-artists, for they were all ranged against each other, and had

enough to do to fight their own battles. Gluck had left Paris when

Mozart entered it; he renewed his acquaintance with Piccinni, whom he

had known in Italy (Vol. I., p. 111), and was polite in his greetings

when he met him at the Concert Spirituel and elsewhere; but there the

intercourse ended. "I know my affairs, and he his, and that suffices"

(July 9, 1778).

We find no traces of any acquaintance with Grétry, who never mentions

Mozart in his "Mémoires." He was resigned to professional envy, and had

already experienced his full share of it; but in Paris at that time the

"gens de lettres" were the arbiters of taste and fashion. Pamphlets and

critical articles, epigrams and _bon mots_, proceeding from

{PARIS, 1778.}

(36)

the literary circle, ruled public opinion, and a thorough knowledge

of music was, as a rule, the last requirement thought of by those who

strove to influence its progress.

It was a new world to Wolfgang, in which he would have found it

difficult to move successfully and uprightly, even if he had gained

access to its favour.

Grimm, who might have introduced him, was himself a partisan, and

esteemed only by his own party; besides which, he could not fail soon

to discover that Mozart was the last man in the world for this kind of

intercourse. Nevertheless, he received him very kindly, and sought to

make him known wherever he could; they were always quite of accord

in their opinions of French music. "Baron Grimm and I," writes Mozart

(April 5, 1778), "often pour out our wrath over the music of the present

day, but in private, be it understood; in public, it is all 'bravo,

bravissimo,' and clapping one's hands till the fingers burn." And in

another letter he says: "What annoys me is that the French have improved

their taste just enough to enable them to listen to good music. But

their own is still very bad. Ay! upon my word, but it is! and their

singing! _oime!_ If they would only let Italian songs alone, I could

forgive their Frenchified chirruping; but it is really unpardonable so

to spoil good music."

Mozart's outward circumstances were not pleasant. In order to economise

(for his mother found everything in Paris half as dear again as

elsewhere) they took a dark, uncomfortable lodging, so small that

Wolfgang could not get his clavier into it. But their life was rendered

considerably more cheerful by the presence of their Mannheim friends.

"Wendling," writes the mother (April 5) (there is no more talk of

his irreligion), "has prepared Wolfgang's way for him, and has now

introduced him to all his friends. He is a true benefactor, and M. von

Grimm has promised him to use all his influence, which is greater than

Wendling's, to make Wolfgang known." In Paris, too, Mozart became better

acquainted with Raaff, and learned to value him as an artist and as a

friend. This was greatly owing to the interest Raaff took in the Weber

family; he appreciated

{WOLFGANG'S HOPES AND FEARS.}

(37)

Aloysia's talents, promised to give her lessons, and approved of

Mozart's liking for her; this was all the greater consolation since he

dared not speak openly on the subject to his father, although he did not

attempt to conceal his correspondence with the Weber family. Nor could

his wishes and feelings fail to be perceived when he wrote (July 3,

1778):--

I have never been backward, and never will be. I will always use my

powers to the uttermost. God can make all things good. I have something

in my mind, for which I pray to God daily; if it is His Divine will it

will come to pass; if not, I am content. I have at least done my best.

If all goes well, and things turn out as I wish, then you must do your

share, or the whole business will fall through; I trust to your kindness

to do it. Do not attempt to discover my meaning, for the immediate

favour I have to beg of you is to let me keep my ideas to myself until

the right time comes.

He does not seem to have been very hopeful (March 29, 1778)

I am pretty well, thank God: but for the rest, I often scarcely know or

care for anything; I am quite indifferent, and take little pleasure in

anything. What most supports and invigorates me is the thought that you,

dear father, and my dear sister are safe and well, that I am an honest

German; and that although I cannot always say what I like, I can always

think what I like--which is the main point.

In a mood like this the encouragement of musical compatriots would

be doubly grateful to him. This was freely bestowed on him by the

ambassador from the Palatinate, Count von Sickingen, to whom

Gemmingen and Cannabich had given him letters, and Raaff a personal

introduction:--

He is a charming man, a passionate lover and true judge of music. I

spent eight hours with him quite alone; we were at the clavier morning

and afternoon, and up to ten o'clock in the evening, all the time

making, praising, admiring, altering, discussing, and criticising

nothing but music: he has about thirty operatic scores.

He maintained this acquaintance zealously, often dining with the Count,

and spending the evening over his own compositions with so much interest

that the time went without their knowing it (June 12, 1778).

{PARIS, 1778.}

(38)

The Mannheim friends were engaged for the Concert Spirituel, which

had been founded in 1725. Anne Danican Philidor, elder brother to the

composer already mentioned, was accorded the privilege, on payment of a

fixed sum, of giving about four-and-twenty concerts in the course of the

year, on festivals when there was no grand opera. They were given in a

hall of the Tuileries, and consisted of instrumental music, and sacred

or classical compositions for chorus or solo singing.[2] Wolfgang

was introduced to the director, Jean le Gros (1739-1793), and at once

received from him a commission, with which he acquaints his father

(April 5, 1778).

The kapellmeister, Holzbauer, has sent a Miserere; but the Mannheim

chorus being weak and bad, while here it is good and strong, his

choruses make no effect; therefore M. le Gros has commissioned me to

write other choruses. Holzbauer's introductory chorus remains; the

first by me is "Quoniam iniquitatem meam ego," &c., allegro; the

second, adagio, "Ecce enim in iniquitatibus"; then, allegro, "Ecce

enim veritatem dilexisti," up to "ossa humiliata." Then an andante

for soprano, tenor and bass soli, "Cor mundum créa"; and "Redde mihi

lætitiam," allegro as far as "te convertentur." Then I have done a

recitative for the basses, "Libera me de sanguinibus," because it is

followed by a bass song by Holzbauer, "Domine, labia mea." In the same

way, because "Sacrificium Deo, spiritus" is an andante tenor air for

Raaff, with solo oboe and bassoon, I have added a little recitative,

"Quoniam si voluisses," also with oboe and bassoon concertante:

recitatives are very much in vogue here. "Benigne fac" up to "muri

Jerusalem," andante moderato, chorus. Then "Tunc acceptabis" to

"super altare tuum vitulos," allegro, tenor solo (Le Gros), and chorus

together.[3] I must say I am glad I have finished this work, for it is

confoundedly awkward when one is in a hurry with work and cannot write

at home. But it is finished, thank God, and will, I think, make an

effect. M. Gossec, whom you must know, told M. Le Gros, after seeing

my first chorus, that it was charming, and would certainly tell in

performance; that the words were well arranged, and admirably set to

music. He is a good friend of mine, but a dry, reserved man.

That this scampering work (for Mozart was only a few

{COMPOSITIONS FOR THE CONCERT SPIRITUEL}

(39)

days over it) should form his _début_ before the French public caused

his father great uneasiness; but it was uncalled for, for in his next

letter Wolfgang informs him (March 1, 1778)

I must tell you, by the way, that my chorus work came to nothing.

Holzbauer's Miserere is too long as it is, and did not please; besides

which, they only performed two of my choruses instead of four, and left

out the best. It did not much matter, for many people did not know that

they were mine, and many more never heard of me. Notwithstanding, they

were highly applauded at rehearsal, and, what is more important (for I

do not think much of Parisian applause), I liked them myself.

Another work was occasioned by the presence of the Mannheim performers,

with whom was associated the celebrated hornist, Joh. Punto (1748-1803),

who in Mozart's opinion "played magnificently." Mozart set to work at

a Sinfonie Concertante for flute (Wendling), oboe (Ramm), French horn

(Punto), and bassoon (Ritter), which was to be performed at one of

the concerts. But he was soon obliged to write to his father (May 1,

1778):--

There is another "hickl-hackl" with the Sinfonie Concertante. I believe

there is something behind, for I have my enemies here, as where have

I not had them? It is a good sign, however. I was obliged to write the

symphony in great haste, worked hard at it, and thoroughly satisfied

the four performers. Le Gros had it four days for copying, and I always

found it lying in the same place. At last, the day but one before the

concert, I did not find it; searched about among the music, and found it

hidden away. I could do nothing but ask Le Gros, "_A propos_, have you

given the Sinfonie Concertante to be copied?" "No, I forgot it." Of

course I could not order him to have it copied and played, so said

nothing. The day it should have been performed I went to the concert;

Ramm and Punto came up to me in a rage, and asked why my sinfonie

concertante was not played. "I do not know; this is the first I have

heard of it." Ramm was furious, and abused Le Gros in French, saying

that it was unhandsome of him, &c. What annoyed me most in the whole

affair was Le Gros not telling me a word about it, as if I was to know

nothing of it. If he had only made an apology, that the time was too

short, or anything; but no, not a word.[4] I think Cambini, an Italian

{PARIS, 1778.}

(40)

composer here, is at the bottom of it, for I was the innocent cause

of his being extinguished on his first introduction to Le Gros. He has

written some pretty quartets, one of which I had heard at Mannheim; I

praised it to him, and played the beginning; Ritter, Ramm, and Punto

were there, and they left me no peace, insisting that I should go on,

and make up myself what I could not remember. So I did it, and Cambini

was quite beside himself, and could not refrain from saying, "Questa

è una gran testa!" But it must have been sorely against the grain with

him.

The father was of the same opinion, and warned Wolfgang that Cambini

would not be the only one who would seek to injure him; but he must not

allow himself to be disconcerted (April 29, 1778). Wolfgang expressed

himself with considerable dissatisfaction:--

If this were a place where the people had ears to hear, and a heart to

feel, and just a little understanding and taste for music, I would laugh

from my heart at all these things; but, as far as music is concerned,

I am among a set of dolts and blockheads. How can it be otherwise? They

are just the same in all their transactions, love-affairs, and passions.

There is no place in the world like Paris. You must not think that I

exaggerate in speaking so of the music here. Ask whom you will (only not

a native Frenchman), and they will tell you the same. Well, I am here,

and must make the best of it, for your sake. I shall thank the Almighty

if I come out of it with unvitiated taste. I pray to God daily to give

me grace to stand firm, and do honour to myself and the German nation,

and that He will grant me success, so that I may make plenty of money,

help you out of all your present troubles, and that we may meet once

more, and all live happily together again.

Through the good offices of Grimm, Mozart was recommended to the Duc

de Guines, who had been recalled from his post as Ambassador in London

after his notorious lawsuit with secretary Tort[5] in 1776, and stood

high in favour with the Queen.[6] L. Mozart wrote (March 28, 1778):[7]--

My dear Son,--I beg that you will do your best to gain the friendship of

the Duc de Guines, and to keep well with him; I have frequently read in

the papers of his high place in the royal favour; the Queen being now

_enceinte_, there are sure to be grand festivities when the child is

born; you may get something to do, and make your fortune; for in these

cases everything depends upon the pleasure of the Queen.

{CONCERTO IN C MAJOR.}

(41)

The Duke was amusing and fond of music;[8] as Mozart himself says, he

played the flute inimitably, and his daughter the harp magnificently.[9]

He gave Mozart a commission to compose a concerto for flute and

harp. These were exactly the two instruments which Mozart could not

endure.[10] But this did not prevent his accomplishing his task to the

perfect satisfaction of the Duke. The concerto (299 K.) is in C major,

with accompaniments for a small orchestra, and consists of the usual

three movements. In conformity with the nature of the instruments the

character of the concerto is cheerful and graceful, and it is excellent

of its kind. Each movement is well and compactly formed, and has an

abundance of rich melody, enhanced in effect by the harmonic treatment,

the varied character of the accompaniment, and the alternation of the

solo instruments. The thematic treatment is only lightly sketched in so

as to keep the interest alive; but in the middle movement of the first

part the harmonic arrangement betrays a master-hand; at its close a

fresh melody is introduced, as was then the rule, in order to excite

the attention anew. Especially graceful and tender is the Andantino,

accompanied only by a quartet. The solo instruments are brilliant

without being particularly difficult; the orchestra is discreetly made

use of to support the delicate solo instruments without interfering with

their effect; but the easy setting _ä jour_ is elaborated in detail

with great skill and decision, both as regards the sound effects and the

passages and turns of the accompaniment.

Besides this, Mozart gave the Duke's daughter two hours' lessons in

composition daily, for which generous payment might be expected. He

describes the lessons minutely (May 14, 1778):--

She has talent and even genius, but especially has she a marvellous

memory: she knows two hundred pieces, and can play them all by heart.

"Once when we were talking of instruments, Mozart said that he detested

the harp and the flute."

{PARIS, 1778.}

(42)

She is, however, very doubtful whether she has any talent for

composition, particularly as regards ideas and imagination; but her

father--who, between ourselves, is a little infatuated about her--says

she has plenty of ideas, but is over-modest, and has too little

confidence in herself. Well, we shall see. If she does not get any ideas

or imagination (at present she has absolutely none) it is all in vain,

for, God knows, I cannot give them to her. Her father has no intention

of making her into a great composer. "I do not wish her," says he, "to

write operas, concertos, songs, or symphonies, but only grand sonatas

for her instrument and mine." To-day I gave her her fourth lesson, and,

as far as regards the rules of composition and exercises, I am fairly

satisfied. She has supplied a very good bass to the first minuet which I

set her. She is beginning now to write in three parts. She does it, but

she gets _ennuyée_. I cannot help it, for I cannot possibly take her

farther. Even if she had genius it would be too soon, and unhappily she

has none--everything must be done artificially. She has no ideas, and so

nothing comes of it. I have tried her in every sort of way. Among other

things, it came into my head to write down a very simple minuet, and to

try if she could write a variation on it. No; it was in vain. "Well," I

thought, "she does not know how to begin;" so I began to vary the first

bar, and told her to go on with it, and keep the same idea; and at

last she managed it. When that was done, I told her to begin something

herself, only the first part of a melody. She reflected for a quarter of

an hour, but nothing came of it. Then I wrote the first four bars of a

minuet, and said, "See what a donkey I am; I have begun a minuet, and

cannot even finish the first part. Be so kind as to do it for me." She

thought it was impossible. At last, after much trouble, something

came to light; and I was very glad of it. Then I made her complete the

minuet--only the first part, of course. I have given her nothing to do

at home but to alter my four bars, and make something out of them--to

invent a new beginning, even if the harmony is the same, so long as the

melody is altered. I shall see to-morrow what she has made of it.

The father was justly astonished at the demands made by Wolfgang on the

talent of his pupil, and on the earnestness with which he threw himself

into his task (May 28,1778):--

You write that you have just given Mdlle. de Guines her fourth lesson,

and you want her to write down her own ideas; do you think that

everybody has your genius? It will come in time. She has a good memory;

let her _steal,_ or more politely, _adapt_; it does no harm at the

beginning, until courage comes. Your plan of variations is a good

one, only persevere. If M. le Duc sees anything, however small, by his

daughter, he will be delighted. It is really an excellent acquaintance.

But Wolfgang had not the art of cultivating such

{LIFE IN PARIS.}

(43)

acquaintances any more than of giving lessons in composition to young

ladies of no talent; he wrote later that she was thoroughly stupid and

thoroughly lazy (July 9, 1778), and in conclusion the Duke offered him

two louis-d'or, which he indignantly rejected.

He had some other pupils, and might have had more had not the distances

in Paris been so great that his time was too much curtailed thereby; he

complains (July 31, 1778):--

It is no joke to give lessons here. You must not think that it is

laziness; no! but it is quite against my nature, my way of life. You

know that I, so to speak, live in music; that I am busy at it the whole

day, planning, studying, considering. Lessons come in the way of this;

I shall certainly have some hours free, but I need them rather for rest

than for work.

Highly distasteful to him also were visits to people of rank, and

attempts to gain their favour. He enumerates all the disagreeables of it

(May 1, 1778):--

You write that I should pay plenty of visits to make new acquaintances

and renew old ones. It is really impossible. To go on foot takes too

long and makes one too dirty, for Paris is inconceivably filthy; and to

drive costs four or five livres a day, and all for nothing; the people

pay compliments and nothing more; engage me for such or such a day, and

then I play, and they say "Oh! c'est un prodige, c'est inconcevable,

c'est étonnant!" and then adieu. I have already spent money enough in

that way, and often uselessly, for the people have been out. No one can

know the annoyance of it who is not here. Paris is very much altered;

the French are not nearly so polite as they were fourteen years ago;

they approach very near to rudeness now, and are dreadfully arrogant.

The example which he gives his father sufficiently justifies his

complaints, and is as significant of the impertinence of the nobility

towards artists as of Mozart's powerlessness to resent such behaviour:--

M. Grimm gave me a letter to Madame la Duchesse de Chabot,[11] and I

went there. The purport of the letter was principally to recommend me

{PARIS, 1778.}

(44)

to the Duchesse de Bourbon[12] (then in a convent),[13] and to bring me

again to her remembrance. A week passed without any notice taken; but,

as she had already commanded my presence in that time, I went. I was

left to wait half an hour in an icily cold, very large room, with no

stove or means of heating it. At last the Duchesse de Chabot came in,

and politely begged me to make allowances for the clavier, since she had

none in good order; would I try it? I said I should have been delighted

to play something, but that I could not feel my fingers for the cold,

and I begged her to allow me to go to a room where at least there was a

stove. "Oh, oui, monsieur; vous avez raison," was her only answer. Then

she sat down and began to draw for at least an hour with some other

gentlemen, who all sat round a great table. I had the honour of standing

waiting this hour. The doors and windows were open; very soon, not only

my hands, but my feet and whole body were stiff with cold, and my head

began to ache. No one spoke to me, and I did not know what to do for

cold, headache, and fatigue. At last, to cut it short, I played on the

wretched, miserable pianoforte. The most vexatious part of all was that

Madame and all the gentlemen went on with their employment without a

moment's pause or notice, so that I played for the walls and chairs.

All these things put together were too much for my patience. I began the

Fischer variations, played the half, and got up. Then followed no end of

_éloges_. I said what was quite true, that I could do myself no credit

with such a clavier, and that I should be very pleased to appoint

another day when I could have a better clavier. But she did not consent,

and I was obliged to wait another half-hour, till her husband came

in.[14] But he sat down beside me, and listened with all attention; and

then I--I forgot cold, and headache, and annoyance, and played on the

wretched clavier as you know I can play when I am in a good humour. Give

me the best clavier in Europe, but with an audience who do not or will

not understand and feel with me when I play, and I lose all pleasure in

it. I told the whole affair to M. Grimm.

Wolfgang tells his father (May 14, 1778) of a prospect of a settled

position, in which, however, he was disappointed:--

Rudolph (the French horn-player) is in the royal service here, and very

friendly to me. He has offered me the place of organist at Versailles,

if I like to take it. It brings in 2,000 livres a year, but I should

have to live six months at Versailles, the other six where I

{OFFER OF COURT SERVICE.}

(45)

chose. I must ask the advice of my friends, for 2,000 livres is no such

great sum. It would be if it were in German coin, but not here; it makes

83 louis-d'or and 8 livres a year; that is, 915 florins 45 kreutzers of

our money (a large sum), but only 333 dollars and 2 livres here,

which is not much. It is dreadful how soon a dollar goes! I cannot be

surprised at people thinking so little of a louis-d'or here, for it is

very little; four dollars, or a louis-d'or, which is the same thing, are

gone directly.

His father, who considered a settled position of such importance that

a certain amount of concession should be made for it, advised him to

reflect well on the proposal, if indeed Rudolph (1730-1812), who had

been a member of the band since 1763, had sufficient influence to bring

it about (May 28, 1778):--

You must not reject it at once. You must consider that the 83 louis-d'or

are earned in six months; that you have half the year for other work;

that it probably is a permanent post, whether you are ill or well; that

you can give it up when you like; that you are _at Court, consequently_

daily under the eyes of the King and Queen, and so much the nearer your

fortune; that you may be promoted to one of the two kapellmeisters'

places; that in time, if promotion is the rule, you may become

clavier-master to the royal family, which would be a lucrative post;

that there would be nothing to hinder your writing for the theatre,

concert spirituel, &c., and printing music with dedications to your

grand acquaintance among the ministers who frequent Versailles,

especially in summer; that Versailles itself is a small town, or at all

events, has many respectable inhabitants, among whom pupils would surely

be found; and that, finally, this is the surest way to the favour and

protection of the queen. Read this to the Baron von Grimm, and ask his

opinion.

But Grimm took Wolfgang's view of the matter, expressed in his answer to

his father (July 3, 1778):--

My inclination has never turned towards Versailles; I took the advice

of Baron Grimm, and others of my best friends, and they all thought with

me. It is small pay. I should have to waste half the year in a place

where nothing else could be earned, and where my talents would be

buried. For to be in the royal service is to be forgotten in Paris--and

then to be only organist! I should like a good post extremely, but

nothing less than kapellmeister--and well paid.

Mozart's absorbing desire was to have an opportunity of distinguishing

himself as a composer, above all things by an opera. There seemed a fair

prospect of doing this soon

{PARIS, 1778.}

(46)

after his arrival in Paris. He had renewed his acquaintance with Noverre

(p. 145), who, after giving up the direction of the ballet at Vienna in

1775, had, through the Queen's influence, been appointed ballet-master

to the Grand-Opéra in 1776.[15] He took such a liking for Mozart that he

not only invited him to his table as often as he chose, but commissioned

him to write an opera. He proposed as a good subject, "Alexander and

Roxane," and set a librettist to work at the adaptation of it. The first

act was ready at the beginning of April; and a month later Mozart was

in hopes of receiving the whole text. It had then to be submitted to the

approbation of the director of the Grand-Opéra, De Vismes; but this did

not seem to offer any difficulty, Noverre's influence being powerful

with the director.

As soon as L. Mozart heard of the prospect of an opera, he wrote (April

12, 1778):--

I strongly advise you, before writing for the French stage, to hear

their operas, and find what pleases them. In this way you will become

quite a Frenchman, and I hope you will be specially careful to accustom

yourself to the proper accent of the language.

And he continues to impress upon him (April 29, 1778):--

Now that you tell me you are about to write an opera, follow my advice,

and reflect that your whole reputation hangs on your first piece. Listen

before you write, and study the national taste; listen to their operas,

and examine them. I know your wonderful powers of imitation. Do not

write hurriedly--no sensible composer does that. Study the words

beforehand with Baron von Grimm and Noverre; make sketches, and let them

hear them. It is always done: Voltaire reads his poems to his friends,

hears their judgments, and follows their suggestions. Your honour and

profit depend upon it; and as soon as we have money we will go to Italy

again.

Wolfgang was aware of the difficulties which lay before him, especially

with regard to the language and the vocalists, and expressed himself

energetically on both points (July 9, 1778)

If I do get as far as writing an opera, I shall have trouble enough over

it; that I do not mind, for I am used to it, if only this cursed French

{PROSPECTS OF AN OPERA, 1778.}

(47)

language were not so utterly opposed to music! It is truly miserable;

German is divine in comparison. And then the vocalists, male and female!

they have no right to the name, for they do not sing, but shriek and

howl, and all from the nose and the throat.

In spite of all this, he was eager to set to work (July 31, 1778):--

I assure you that I shall be only too pleased if I do succeed in writing

an opera. The language is the invention of the devil, that is true; and

the same difficulties are before me that beset all composers; but I

feel as well able as any one else to surmount them; in fact, when I tell

myself that all goes well with my opera, I feel a fire within me, and my

limbs tingle with the desire to make the French know, honour, and fear

the German nation more.

In the meantime L. Mozart heard that at the very time when Noverre was

interesting himself so warmly in Wolfgang's opera, he had engaged him to

write the music for a ballet which was coming out (May 14, 1778). When,

after a considerable lapse of time, the father inquired what had

become of this ballet, and what he had made by it, Wolfgang had almost

forgotten the subject (July 9, 1778):--

As to Noverre's ballet, I only wrote that perhaps he would be making

a new one. He just wanted half a ballet, and for that I provided the

music; that is, there were six pieces by other people in it, consisting

of poor, miserable French songs; I did the overture and contredanses,

altogether about twelve pieces. The ballet has been performed four times

with great applause.[16] But now I mean to do nothing without being sure

beforehand what I am to get for it, for this was only as a good turn to

Noverre.

But such "good turns" were precisely what Noverre had in view. It suited

him, as it did Le Gros, to have at command the services of a young

artist eager to compose and ready to accept hope and patronage in lieu

of payment, whose name it was not necessary to risk bringing before the

public, since he was only employed as a stop-gap. But it would be a

very different and far more serious thing for them to bring forward an

original work, such as an opera, by this

{PARIS, 1778.}

(48)

same unknown young man. In case of failure the protectors would share

the responsibilities of the _protégé_, while success would bring fame

and profit to the latter alone. Nothing shows more clearly Mozart's

unsuspecting nature than his explanation of the long delay of his

libretto (July 9, 1778):--

It is always so with an opera. It is so hard to find a good poem; the

old ones, which are the best, are not in the modern style, and the new

ones are good for nothing; for poetry, which was the only thing the

French had to be proud of, gets worse every day, and the poetry of the

opera is just the part that must be good, for they do not understand the

music. There are only two operas _in aria_ which I could write--one

in two acts, the other in three. The one in two acts is "Alexander and

Roxane," but the poet who is writing it is still in the country. That

in three acts is "Demofoonte" (by Metastasio), translated and mixed with

choruses and dances, and specially arranged for the French theatre» and

this I have not yet been able to see.

The father saw through it all more plainly, and cautioned Wolfgang,

if he wanted to succeed with an opera in Paris, to make himself known

beforehand (August 27, 1778):--

You must make a name for yourself. When did Gluck, when did Piccinni,

when did all these people come forward? Gluck is not less than sixty,

and it is twenty-six or twenty-seven years since he was first spoken of;

and can you really imagine that the French public, or even the manager

of the theatre, can be convinced of your powers of composition without

having heard anything by you in their lives, or knowing you, except in

your childhood as an excellent clavier-player and precocious genius?

You must exert yourself, and make yourself known as a composer in every

branch; make opportunities, and be indefatigable in making friends and

in urging them on; wake them up when their energies slacken, and do not

take for granted that they have done all they say they have. I should

have written long ago to M. de Noverre if I had known his title and

address.

But this way of pushing his talents was completely foreign to Wolfgang's

nature; and so it followed, in the natural course of things, that after

a delay of months Noverre declared that he might be able to help him to

a libretto, but could not insure the opera being performed when it was

ready.

One success, however, was to be granted him in Paris. He had naturally

ceased to visit Le Gros since the latter

{PARISIAN SYMPHONY.}

(49)

had so ruthlessly rejected his Sinfonie Concertante, but had been every

day with Raaff, who lived in the same house. He had chanced to meet Le

Gros there, who made the politest apologies, and begged him again to

write a symphony for the Concert Spirituel. How could Mozart resist such

a petition? On June 12 he took the symphony which he had just finished

to Count Sickingen, where Raaff was. He continues:--

They were both highly pleased. I myself am quite satisfied with it.

Whether it will please generally I do not know; and, truth to say, I

care very little; for whom have I to please? The _very few_ intelligent

Frenchmen that there are I can answer for; as for the stupid ones, it

does not signify much whether they are pleased or not. But I am in hopes

that even the donkeys will find something to admire. I have not omitted

the _premier coup d'archet!_--and that is enough for them. What a fuss

they make about that, to be sure! _Was Teufel!_ I see no difference.

They just begin together, as they do elsewhere. It is quite

ludicrous.[17]

The symphony pleased unusually, however, as he tells his father (July 3,

1778):--

It was performed on Corpus Christi day with all applause. I hear that

a notice of it has appeared in the "Courrier de l'Europe." I was very

unhappy over the rehearsal, for I never heard anything worse in my life;

you cannot imagine how they scraped and scrambled over the symphony

twice. I was really unhappy; I should like to have rehearsed it again,

but there are so many things, that there was no time. So I went to bed

with a heavy heart and a discontented and angry spirit. The day before,

I decided not to go to the concert; but it was a fine evening, and I

determined at last to go, but with the intention, if it went as ill as

at the rehearsal, of going into the orchestra, taking the violin out of

the hands of M. La Houssaye, and conducting myself. I prayed for God's

grace that it might go well, for it is all to His honour and glory; and,

_ecce!_ the symphony began. Raaff stood close to me, and

{PARIS, 1778.}

(50)

in the middle of the first allegro was a passage that I knew was sure to

please; the whole audience was struck, and there was great applause.

I knew when I was writing it that it would make an effect, so I brought

it in again at the end, _da capo_. The andante pleased also, but

especially the last allegro. I had heard that all the last allegros

here, like the first, begin with all the instruments together, and

generally in unison; so I began with the violins alone _piano_ for eight

bars, followed at once by a _forte_. The audience (as I had anticipated)

cried "Hush!" at the _piano_ but directly the _forte_ began they took to

clapping. As soon as the symphony was over I went into the Palais-Royal,

took an ice, told my beads as I had vowed, and went home.

So brilliant a success was not wanting in more lasting results: "M. Le

Qros has taken a tremendous fancy to me," he writes (July 9, 1778); and

he was commissioned to write a French oratorio for performance at the

Concert Spirituel during the following Lent:--

My symphony was unanimously applauded; and Le Gros is so pleased with

it that he calls it his best symphony.[18] Only the andante does not hit

his taste; he says there are too many changes of key in it, and it is

too long; but the real truth is that the audience forgot to clap their

hands so loud as for the first and last movements; the andante is more

admired than any other part by myself, and by all connoisseurs, as well

as by the majority of the audience; it is just the contrary of what Le

Gros says, being unaffected and short. But for his satisfaction (and

that of others, according to him) I have written another. Either is good

of its kind, for they differ greatly; perhaps, on the whole, I prefer

the second one.

The symphony (297 K.), well known, by the name of the French or Parisian

Symphony, was repeated with the new andante on August 15. It consists of

three movements in the customary form, except that none of the parts

are repeated entire, although they are perfectly distinct. This was

a concession to the Parisian taste. Wolfgang writes to his father

(September 11, 1778) that his earlier symphonies would not please there:

"We in Germany have a taste for lengthy performances, but in point of

fact, it is better to be short and

{PARISIAN SYMPHONY.}

(51)

good," The first and last movements are unusually animated and restless,

with an almost unbroken rapidity of movement; and the different subjects

offer no contrasts as to character, being all in the same light,

restless style. Thematic elaboration is only hinted at, except in the

well worked-out middle movement of the finale. Melodies are scattered

through the whole in great abundance, often connected with each other in

a highly original and attractive manner. Suspense is kept up by strong

contrasts of forte and piano, by sudden breaks and imperceptible

modulations, and by striking harmonic effects. The general impression

given by both movements is animated and brilliant, but they are more

calculated to stir the intellect than to awaken the deeper emotions, and

are therefore well suited to a Parisian audience. The same is the

case with the tender and beautiful andante, which only now and then,

surreptitiously as it were, betrays the existence of deep feeling. There

are, as has been seen, two versions of the andante, both still existing

in Mozart's handwriting--the second considerably shorter than the first.

The leading part is minutely given throughout the score of the whole

piece (which is marked andantino), besides a fixed subject being

indicated for the bass, and in some places for the other instruments.

After thus laying down, as it were, the ground plan, he proceeded to

details, making few alterations beyond some slight abbreviations. When,

in working out the movement, he came to a passage which seemed to him

tedious or superfluous, he struck it out, and went on with the next.

This has been the case with several unimportant passages, and with one

longer one, a transition to the theme by means of an imitative passage

(after page 36, bar 6, of the score); soon after, too, a middle passage

with flute and oboe solos is cut out. After thus elaborating the

movement, he hastily copied it all, as it is now printed.[19] The later

andante is printed in a Parisian edition of the symphony;[20] it is far

less important than the first, and was

{PARIS, 1778.}

(52)

rightly rejected by Mozart. It is worthy of remark that the violoncello

is employed as a leading instrument.

The orchestral workmanship shows that Mozart had not listened to the

Mannheim band in vain; the different instruments form a well-ordered

whole, in which each has its individual significance. It is only

necessary to examine the thematic arrangement in the last movement

(score, page 54) to perceive how skilfully the effect of varied

tone-colouring is taken into account, while at the same time, by

means of contrapuntal treatment, due prominence is given to the purely

melodious element. It may well be imagined that Mozart would not let

slip the opportunity of trying the splendid effect of a symphony with

flutes, oboes, and clarinets (Vol. I., p. 385). But the clarinets are

sparely used as a foreign importation, and, together with the trumpets

and drums, are altogether omitted from the andante. Large demands are

made on the executive delicacy of the orchestra, and in many places the

whole effect depends on a well-managed _crescendo_, as it had never done

in previous works; in fact, it is not too much to say that many of the

subjects would not have been conceived as they are, without the prospect

of their performance by a well-organised orchestra.

During this interval Mozart also completed the clavier sonatas, with

violin accompaniment, which he had begun at Mannheim (301-306 K.), the

fourth bearing the inscription "ä Paris," and busied himself to find a

publisher for them who would pay him well.[21] He found leisure, also,

to compose a capriccio for his sister's birthday.

Thus we see Mozart, disliking Paris and the Parisians, deriving little

practical gain from all his exertions, and yet striving in his own way

to attain the position which was his due, when an event occurred which

plunged himself and his family into the deepest grief. Paris had never

agreed with the Frau Mozart. Their lodging in the "Hötel des quatre fils

d'Aymon," in the Rue du Gros-Chenet--a musical quarter

{DEATH OF MOZART'S MOTHER.}

(53)

--was bad, as well as the living, and she sat all day "as if under

arrest," Wolfgang's affairs necessitating his almost constant absence.

She was ill for three weeks in May, and intended, on her recovery, to

seek out better lodgings, and manage the housekeeping herself. But

in June she fell ill again; she was bled, and wrote afterwards to her

husband (June 12, 1778) that she was very weak, and had pains in her arm

and her eyes, but that on the whole she was better. But the improvement

was only apparent, and her illness took a serious turn; the physician

whom Grimm sent in gave up hope, and after a fortnight of the deepest

anxiety, which Wolfgang passed at his mother's bedside, she gently

passed away on July 3. His only support at this trying time was a

musician named Heina, who had known his father in former days, and had

often, with his wife, visited Frau Mozart in her solitude. Wolfgang's

first thought was to break the news gently to his father, who was ill

prepared for so crushing a blow. He wrote to him at once, saying that

his mother was ill, and that her condition excited alarm; at the same

time he acquainted their true friend Bullinger with the whole truth,

and begged him to break the dreadful news to his father as gently as

possible. In a few days, when he knew that this had been done, he wrote

again himself in detail, offering all the consolation he could, and

strove to turn his father's thoughts from the sad subject to the

consideration of his own prospects. This letter[22] affords a fresh

example of the deep and tender love which bound parents and children

together, and of Wolfgang's own sentiments and turn of mind. The

consolations he offers, and the form in which he expresses them, are

those of one who has himself passed through all the sad experiences

of life; but to his father, whose teaching had tended to produce this

effect, his expressions were justified and correct. With a natural and

genuine sorrow for his irreparable loss is combined a manly composure,

which sought not to obtain relief by indulging in sorrow, but to look

forward calmly and steadily to the future and its duties.

{PARIS, 1778.}

(54)

As a loving son, he set himself to the filial task of comforting and

supporting his father. After hearing that the latter was aware of his

wife's death, and resigned to God's will, Wolfgang answers (July 31,

1778):--

Sad as your letter made me, I was beyond measure pleased to find that

you take everything in a right spirit, and that I need not be uneasy

about my dear father and my darling sister. My impulse after reading

your letter was to fall on my knees and thank God for His mercy. I am

well and strong again now, and have only occasional fits of melancholy,

for which the best remedy is writing or receiving letters--that restores

my spirits again at once.

He felt, and with justice, that his father's anxiety on his account

would now be redoubled. In keeping him informed of all his exertions

and successes he satisfied his own longing to confide in his father, and

gave the latter just that kind of interest and occupation of the mind

which would serve to dispel his grief. It is touching to see the pains

he takes to keep his father informed of all that he thinks will interest

him, and how a certain irritability which had occasionally, and under

the circumstances excusably, betrayed itself in his former letters, now

completely disappears before the expression of tender affection: even

the handwriting, which had been blamed as careless and untidy by his

father, becomes neater and better. Trifles such as these are often the

clearest expression of deep and refined feeling.

When the heavy blow fell, Wolfgang was alone, his Mannheim friends

having left Paris; his father might well be apprehensive lest he should

neglect the proper care of himself and his affairs. But Grimm now came

forward; he, or more properly, as Mozart declares, his friend Madame

D'Epinay, offered him an asylum in their house,[23] and a place at their

table, and he willingly agreed, as soon as he was convinced that he

should cause neither appreciable expense nor inconvenience. He soon

found himself obliged occasionally to borrow small sums of Grimm, which

gradually mounted

{MOZART AS GRIMM'S GUEST.}

(55)

"piecemeal" to fifteen louis-d'or; Grimm reassures the father by telling

him that repayment may be indefinitely postponed. But Wolfgang soon

found the way of life in Grimm's household not at all to his mind, and

wrote of it as "stupid and dull." And, indeed, a greater contrast cannot

well be imagined than when, from the house whence issued with scrupulous

devotion bulletins of Voltaire's health, contradictory reports of his

religious condition, and finally the announcement of his death (May 30,

1778), Wolfgang should write to his father (July 3, 1778): "I will tell

you a piece of news, which perhaps you know already; that godless

fellow and arch-scoundrel Voltaire is dead, like a dog, like a brute

beast--that is his reward!" The condescending patronage with which he

was treated soon became intolerable to him, and he complains of Grimm's

way of furthering his interests in Paris as better fitted to a child

than a grown man. We can well imagine that Grimm, like Mozart's own

father, desired that he should make acquaintances, should gain access to

distinguished families as a teacher and clavier-player, and should

seek to win the favour of the fashion-leading part of the community; no

doubt, too, Grimm felt it his duty to remonstrate openly with Wolfgang

for what he considered his indolence and indifference. It is impossible

to deny the good sense and proper appreciation of the position of all

Grimm's remarks, but they were resented by Mozart on account of the tone

of superiority with which they were enforced. Grimm was indeed openly

opposed to Mozart, and told him frankly that he would never succeed in

Paris--he was not active, and did not go about enough; and he wrote the

same thing to Wolfgang's father.[24]

{PARIS, 1778.}

(56)

It soon became apparent that Grimm was not really of opinion that

Mozart's talents were of such an order as to offer him a career in

Paris; he said that he could not believe that Wolfgang would be able to

write a French opera likely to succeed, and referred him for instruction

to the Italians. "He is always wanting me," writes Mozart (September 11,

1778), "to follow Piccinni or Caribaldi (Vol. I., p. 77), in fact, he

belongs to the foreign party--he is false--and tries to put me down in

every way." He longed above all things to write an opera to show Grimm

"that I can do as much as his dear Piccinni, although I am only a

German." Grimm's character was not a simple one;[25] he had both won and

kept for himself under adverse circumstances an influential position,

which was no easy matter in Paris at any time. Queer stories were told

of him,[26] and his love of truth was not implicitly relied on.[27]

Rousseau describes him as perfidious and egotistical. Madame D'Epinay,

on the other hand, extols him as a disinterested friend, and others

speak of his benevolence and ready sympathy.[28] There is, at any

rate, no reason to suspect that he meant otherwise than well by Mozart,

although he did not appreciate his genius, and interested himself more

for the father's sake than the son's. He had striven for years to

assert the supremacy of Italian music, and his ideal was Italian opera

performed in Paris by Italian singers in the Italian language. When De

Vismes, who was anxious to propitiate all parties, engaged a company of

Italian

{STUDY OF FRENCH OPERA.}

(57)

singers,[29] Grimm hailed the auspicious day on which Caribaldi,

Baglioni, and Chiavacci appeared in Piccinni's "Finte Gemelle" (June

n, 1778).[30] It is therefore quite conceivable that he renounced all

interest in Mozart's artistic future as soon as he was convinced of his

falling off from purely Italian notions, and it is interesting to us to

have so clear an indication that even thus early in his career Mozart

had set himself in opposition to the Italian school. He had long since

learnt all that it had to teach, and he fully recognised the fact that

it was his mission to carry on the reform set on foot by Gluck and

Grétry, at the same time retaining all that was valuable in the Italian

teaching.

A confirmation of this is found in a later expression of opinion made

by Mozart to Joseph Frank, who found him engaged in the study of French

scores, and asked him if it would not be better to devote himself to

Italian compositions; whereupon Mozart answered: "As far as melody is

concerned, yes; but as far as dramatic effect is concerned, no; besides,

the scores which you see here are by Gluck, Piccinni, Salieri, as well

as Grétry, and have nothing French but the words."[31] This view

was confirmed by his stay in Paris, a stay quite as fruitful for his

artistic development as that at Mannheim had been. Grimm's accounts show

that Mozart had opportunities for hearing the operas of numerous French

composers. Besides Gluck's "Armide" which was still new, "Orpheus,"

"Alceste," and "Iphigenia in Aulis," which had been revived, Piccinni's

"Roland," Grètry's "Matroco," "Les Trois Ages de l'Opéra," and "Le

Jugement de Midas" were given, as well as Philidor's "Ernelinde,"

Dezaide's "Zulima," Gossec's "Fête du Village," Rousseau's "Devin

du Village." Added to these were Piccinni's Italian opera "Le Finte

Gemelle," and doubtless many others of which we know nothing. It may

well excite wonder that Mozart's letters to his father describe

{PARIS, 1778.}

(58)

none of the new artistic impressions which he must have received in

Paris. But, apart from the fact that personal affairs naturally held

the first place in his home correspondence, it must be remembered that

abstract reflections on art and its relation to individual artists were

not at that time the fashion, and were besides quite foreign to Mozart's

nature. His aesthetic remarks and judgments whether they treated of

technical questions or of executive effects, are mostly founded on

concrete phenomena. The practical directness of his productive power,

set in motion by every impulse of his artistic nature, prevented his

fathoming the latest psychical conditions of artistic activity, or

tracing the delicate threads which connect the inner consciousness

of the artist with his external impressions, or analysing the secret

processes of the soul which precede the production of a work of art. He

does not seem any more actively conscious of the effect wrought upon

him by the works of others. Some men's impressions of a great work are

involuntary, and they seek later to comprehend the grounds of their

enjoyment; others strive consciously to grasp the idea of the work and

to incorporate it into their being; but to the man of creative genius

alone is it given to preserve his own totality while absorbing all that

is good in the works of other artists.

Without ever losing his own individuality, an artist of true genius

absorbs impressions from nature and from other works of art than his

own, and constructs them anew from his inner consciousness. He accepts

and assimilates whatever is calculated to nourish his formative power,

and rejects with intuitive right judgment all that is foreign to his

nature. Just as in the production of a true work of art invention and

labour, inspiration and execution, willing and doing, are inseparably

interwoven, so in the consideration by a genius of the works of other

men and other ages, delighted appreciation is combined with criticism,

ready apprehension collects materials for original work in its truest

sense; it is a natural process, which perfects itself in the mind of the

artist without any conscious action on his part.

Therefore the judgment that one artist pronounces on

{RESULT. OF STAY IN PARIS.}

(59)

another is not always in perfect accord with the influence which has

been brought to bear on himself by that other. The deeper the influence

penetrates into the roots of an artist's inner being, the more will it

become part and parcel of his productive powers, and the consciousness

of any outside influence will be rapidly lost. It remains for future

historical inquirers to ascertain and define the influence of the

intellectual current of the age on the individual, and the mutual action

on each other of exceptional phenomena.

Small as the visible results of Mozart's stay in Paris might be, and far

as he remained from the object with which he had undertaken the journey,

it yet enabled him, with great gain to his progress as an artist, to

free himself from the Italian school, after such a thorough study of

its principles as convinced him of the value of the element of dramatic

construction which lay concealed in it. It may indeed be considered as a

fortunate circumstance that no sooner had this conviction taken root in

him than he turned his back on party disputes and left the place

which was of all others the least fitted to encourage the quiet steady

progress of genius.

L. Mozart had other and very different reasons for wishing to shorten

Wolfgang's stay in Paris as much as he had hitherto desired to prolong

it. With his wife's death he had lost the assurance that Wolfgang's life

in Paris would be of no detriment to his moral nature. Indulgent as she

had been to her son, in this respect her influence was unbounded; and

now it might be feared that Wolfgang's easy-going nature would lead him

into bad company. Grimm's account convinced him that Wolfgang had

no prospects of success in Paris, the less so as he took no pains to

conceal his dislike of the place. His dearest wish at this time was to

be appointed Kapellmeister to the Elector of Bavaria; he hoped thus

to be able to improve the position of the Weber family, and to claim

Aloysia as his own. The project was not disapproved of by his father

(who, however, was told nothing of the last item); on the contrary, he

wrote to Padre Martini describing the state of affairs, and earnestly

{PARIS, 1778.}

(60)

requesting him directly and through Raaff to gain the Elector for

Wolfgang; this the Padre readily undertook. As for Raaff, his friendship

for Mozart and the interest which he took in Aloysia Weber were

incentives enough for exertion, and Mozart had other influential friends

among the musicians, besides being able to count on the support of Count

Sickingen.

In Munich especially, where there was no German operatic composer of

merit--Holzbauer being too old to have much influence--the need of a

kapellmeister and composer was strongly felt; but the circumstances

were very unfavourable. After it had been finally decided that the court

should be removed from Mannheim to Munich, and all had been prepared

for the move, threatenings of war threw everything into confusion

again. Wolfgang felt this a heavy blow to the interests of the Webers,

concerning whom he writes to his father (July 31, 1778):--

The day before yesterday my dear friend Weber wrote to me, among other

things, that the day after the Elector's arrival it was announced that

he intended to take up his residence at Munich. This news came like a

thunderbolt to Mannheim, and the joy which had been testified by the

illuminations of the day before was suddenly extinguished (p. 404). The

court musicians were all informed that they were at liberty to follow

the court to Munich, or to remain in Mannheim with their present salary;

each one was to send in his written and sealed decision to the Intendant

within fourteen days. Weber, whose miserable circumstances you know,

wrote as follows: "My decayed circumstances put it out of my power to

follow my gracious master to Munich, however earnestly I may wish to do

so." Before this happened there was a grand concert at court, and poor

Mdlle. Weber felt her enemies' malice; she was not invited to sing--no

one knows why. Immediately afterwards was a concert at Herr von

Gemmingen's, and Count Seeau was present. She sang two of my songs, and

was fortunate enough to please, in spite of the wretched foreigners (the

Munich singers). She is much injured by these infamous slanderers, who

say that her singing is deteriorating. But Cannabich, when the songs

were over, said to her, "Mademoiselle, I hope that you will go on

deteriorating after this fashion! I will write to Herr Mozart to-morrow,

and acquaint him with your success." As the matter now stands, if war

had not broken out, the court would have removed to Munich; Count Seeau,

who positively _will have Mdlle. Weber_, had arranged everything so

as to take her, and there was hope that the circumstances of the whole

family would improve in

{PROSPECTS IN SALZBURG.}

(61)

consequence. But now the Munich journey is no more talked of, and

the unfortunate Webers may have to wait here long enough, their debts

growing heavier day by day. If I could only help them! My dear father,

I recommend them to you with my whole heart. If they had only 1,000

florins a year to depend upon!

Thereupon his father reminds him that his anxiety about the Webers is

unbecoming, as long as he does not bestow the same care on himself and

his own family (August 27, 1778). Besides there was no prospect for him

in Munich at present, and his father therefore wished him to remain in

Paris, at all events until the matter was decided.[32]

In the midst of this uncertainty a favourable prospect opened in

Salzburg itself. Since Adlgasser's death it had become more and more

evident at court that Wolfgang's recall would be of all things most

advantageous; it was signified to L. Mozart through Bullinger that,

as he doubtless wished to retain his son near him, the court would be

prepared to give him a monthly salary of fifty florins as organist and

concertmeister, and he might look forward with certainty to being made

kapellmeister; but the Archbishop could not make the first advances.

Bullinger duly performed his mission, but L. Mozart, who well knew the

perplexity the Archbishop was in, required that the proposition should

be made direct to him. So, therefore, it was obliged to be; and the

diplomatic skill, "worthy of a Ulysses" as Wolfgang says, with which L.

Mozart contrived to hold his ground and to avail himself of his strong

position in an interview with the canon, Count Joseph Stahremberg, is

minutely described by himself (June 29, 1778):--

When I arrived no one was there but his brother the major, who is

staying with him to recover from the fright into which he has been

thrown by Prussian powder and shot. He told me that an organist had been

recommended to him, but he would not accept him without being sure that

he was good. He wished to know if I was acquainted with him--Mandl,

or some such name, he did not remember what. "Oh, you stupid fellow!"

thought I; "is it likely that an order or a request should be received

from Vienna with reference to a candidate whose

{PARIS, 1778.}

(62)

name is not even mentioned." As if I could not guess that all this was

by way of inducing me to mention my son! But not I! no, not a syllable.

I said I had not the honour of knowing any such person, and that I would

never venture to recommend any one to our prince, since it would be

difficult to find any one who would altogether suit him. "Yes," said

he, "I cannot recommend him any one; it is far too difficult! Your son

should be here now!" "Bravo! the bait has taken," thought I; "what a

pity that this man is not a minister of state or an ambassador!" Then

I said, "We will speak plainly. Is it not the case that all possible

measures were taken to drive my son out of Salzburg?" I began at the

beginning and enumerated every past circumstance, so that his brother

was quite astonished, but he himself could not deny the truth of a

single point, and at length told his brother that young Mozart had been

the wonder of all who came to Salzburg. He wanted to persuade me to

write to my son; but I said that I would not do so--it would be labour

in vain, for that unless I could tell him what income he might expect,

my son would laugh at the proposition; Adlgasser's salary would be

totally insufficient. Indeed, even if his Grace the Archbishop were to

offer him fifty florins a-month, it would be doubtful whether he would

accept it. We all three left the house together, for they were going to

the riding-school, and I accompanied them. We spoke on the subject all

the way, and I held to what I had said; he held to my son as the only

candidate for him. The fact is, that the Archbishop can hear of no other

good organist who is also a good clavier-player; he says now (but only

to his favourites) that Beecké was a charlatan and a buffoon, and that

Mozart excels all others; he would rather have him whom he knows than

some one else highly paid whom he does not know. He cannot promise any

one (as he would have to do if he gave a smaller salary) an income by

pupils, since there are but few, and those are mine, I having the name

of giving as good lessons as any man. Here then is the affair in full

swing. I do not write, my dear Wolfgang, with the intention of inducing

you to return to Salzburg, for I place no reliance on the words of the

Archbishop, and I have not yet spoken to his sister the Countess;[33]

I rather avoided the opportunity of meeting her; for she would take

the least word as consent and petition. They must come to me, and if

anything is to be done, I must have a clear and advantageous proposal

made, which can hardly be expected. We must wait, and hold fast to our

point.

Wolfgang, who disliked Salzburg more even than Paris, at first took

no notice of all this. But the death of the old kapellmeister Lolli,

coinciding with that of his mother, brought

{MOZART'S DISLIKE OF SALZBURG.}

(63)

matters in Salzburg to a crisis, and under the circumstances L. Mozart

was more than ever convinced that Wolfgang should have a good position

there. Good old Bullinger was again employed as a mediator to reconcile

Wolfgang to the idea. He wrote to his young friend that he would be

wronging his family by refusing so advantageous a position as that now

offered to him, and that life might be endurable even in so small a

place as Salzburg. He mentioned casually that the Archbishop intended

engaging a new singer, and hints that his choice might be turned towards

Aloysia Weber. Thereupon Wolfgang wrote candidly to Bullinger (August 7,

1778):--

You know how hateful Salzburg is to me!--not alone on account of the

unjust treatment received there by both my father and myself--though

that in itself is enough to make one wish to wipe the place clean out of

one's memory. But even supposing that things turned out so that we could

live _well_--living _well_ and living _happily_ are two things, and the

latter I should never be able to do without the aid of magic--it

would be against the natural order of things! It would be the greatest

pleasure to me to embrace my dear father and sister, and the sooner the

better; but I cannot deny that my joy would be doubled if the reunion

took place anywhere but in Salzburg. I should have far more hope of

living happily and contentedly.

He goes on to explain that it is not because Salzburg is small that he

dreads returning to it, but because it offers no field for his talent,

music being but little esteemed there; he remarks with bitter satire how

the Archbishop pretends to seek with much parade for a kapellmeister and

a prima donna, and in reality does nothing.

Soon after his father gives him further information as to the position

of affairs (August 27, 1778):--

I have written to you already that your recall here is desired, and they

beat about the bush with me for a long time without getting me to commit

myself; until at last, after Lolli's death, I was obliged to tell the

Countess that I had addressed a petition to the Archbishop, which,

however, simply appealed to his favour by drawing attention to my long

and uncomplaining services. The conversation then turned upon you, and

I expressed myself as frankly upon all necessary points as I had

previously done to Count Stahremberg. At last she asked me whether

you would come if the Archbishop were to give me Lolli's post, and you

Adlgasser's, which, as I had already calculated, would bring us in

{PARIS, 1778.}

(64)

together one thousand florins a year; I could do nothing else but answer

that I had no doubt that if this happened you would consent for love

of me, especially as the Countess declared that there was not the least

doubt that the Archbishop would allow you to travel in Italy every

second year, since he himself had said how important it was to hear

something new from time to time, and that he would furnish you with

good letters of introduction. If this were to happen, we might reckon

securely on one hundred and fifteen florins a month; and, as things now

are, on more than one hundred and twenty florins. We should be better

off than in any other place where living is twice as dear, and, not

having to look so closely after money, we should be able to think more

of amusement. But I am far from thinking the affair a certainty, for I

know how hard such a decision will be to the Archbishop. You have the

entire goodwill and sympathy of the Countess, that is certain; and it

is equally certain that old Arco, Count Stahremberg, and the Bishop of

Konigsgratz, are all anxious to bring the matter to a conclusion.

But there are reasons, as is always the case; and, as I have always told

you, the Countess and old Arco are afraid of my leaving also. They have

no one to succeed me as a clavier-teacher: I have the name of teaching

well--and, indeed, the proofs are there. They know of no one; and,

should a teacher come from Vienna, is it likely that he would give

lessons for four florins or a ducat the dozen, when anywhere else he

would have two or three ducats? This sets them all in perplexity.

But, as I have said before, I do not reckon on it, because I know the

Archbishop. It may be true that he sincerely wishes to secure you; but

he cannot make up his mind, especially when it concerns _giving_.

Probably Wolfgang counted on this fact, and refrained on that account

from treating the matter seriously. Just at this time his discomfort

in Paris was lightened by a pleasant event. His old London friend Bach,

(Vol. I., p. 39), had been invited to write an opera ("Amadis") for

Paris. "The French are asses, and always will be," remarks Wolfgang

thereupon (July 9, 1778); "they can do nothing themselves, but are

obliged to have recourse to foreigners. Bach came to Paris to make the

necessary arrangements, and Wolfgang wrote (August 27, 1778):--

Herr Bach has been in Paris for the last fortnight. He is going to write

a French opera. He has come to hear the singers; then he goes back to

London, writes the opera, and returns to put it on the stage.[34] You

may imagine his joy and mine at our meeting. Perhaps mine is

{SUMMONS TO SALZBURG.}

(65)

more sincere, but it must be acknowledged that he is an honest man, and

does people justice. I love him, as you know, from my heart, and have

a high esteem for him. As for him, he does not flatter or exaggerate

as some do, but both to myself and others he praises me seriously and

sincerely.

Bach had introduced Wolfgang to the Marshal de Noailles,[35] and the

latter had invited them both, as well as Bach's "bosom friend" Tenducci

(Vol. I., p. 41), to St. Germain. There they spent some pleasant days

together, and it need hardly be said that Mozart composed a scena for

Tenducci, with pianoforte, oboe, horn, and bassoon accompaniment, the

instruments being taken by dependents of the Marshal, chiefly Germans,

who played well.[36]

Meanwhile the time for decision drew near. The Salzburg authorities had

made a definite proposal to L. Mozart, as he had wished, and he wrote to

his son in a way which hardly left him a choice (August 31, 1778):--

You do not like Paris, and I scarcely think you are wrong. My heart and

mind have been troubled for you until now, and I have been obliged to

play a very ticklish part, concealing my anxiety under the semblance of

light-heartedness, in order to give the impression that you were in the

best of circumstances and had money in abundance, although I well knew

to the contrary. I was very doubtful of gaining my point because, as you

know, the step we took and your hasty resignation left us little to hope

from our haughty Archbishop. But my clever management has carried me

through, and the Archbishop has agreed to all my terms, both for you and

myself. You are to have five hundred florins, and he expressed regret at

not being able to make you kapellmeister at once. You are to be allowed

to act as my deputy when the work is beyond me, or I am unfit to do it.

He said he had always intended to give you a better post, &c.; in fact,

to my amazement, he made the politest apologies. More than that! he

has given five florins additional to Paris,[37] so that he may take the

heaviest duties, and enable you to act as concertmeister again. So that

{PARIS, 1778.}

(66)

we shall get altogether, as I told you before, an income of one thousand

florins. Now I should like to know whether you think my head is worth

anything, and whether or not I have done my best for you. I have thought

of everything. The Archbishop has declared himself prepared to let you

travel where you will, if you want to write an opera. He apologised for

his refusal last year by saying that he could not bear his subjects to

go about begging. Now Salzburg is a middle point between Munich, Vienna,

and Italy. It will be easier to get a commission for an opera in Munich

than to get an official post, for German composers are scarce. The

Elector's death has put a stop to all appointments, and war is breaking

out again. The Duke of

Zweibrücken[38] is no great lover of music. But I would rather you did

not leave Paris until I have the signed agreement in my hand. The Prince

and the whole court are wonderfully taken with Mdlle. Weber, and are

absolutely determined to hear her. She must stay with us. Her father

seems to me to have no head. I will manage the affair for them if they

choose to follow my advice. You must speak the word for her here, for

there is another singer wanted for operatic performances.

He was now so sure of the affair that he concluded his letter with the

words, "My next letter will tell you when to set off."

L. Mozart was not mistaken in his son; however great the sacrifice it

entailed upon him, he prepared to yield to the will of his father. "When

I read your letter," he answered (September 11, 1778), "I trembled with

joy, for I felt myself already in your embrace. It is true, as you will

acknowledge, that it is not much of a prospect for me; but when I look

forward to seeing you, and embracing my dearest sister, I think of no

other prospect." He did not conceal from his father his repugnance to

the idea of a residence at Salzburg, on account of the want of congenial

society, the unmusical tone of the place, and the little confidence

placed by the Archbishop in sensible and cultivated people. His

consolation was the permission to travel, without which he would

hardly have made up his mind to come. "A man of mediocre talent remains

mediocre whether he travels or not; but a man of superior talent (which

I cannot without hypocrisy deny myself to be) becomes bad if he always

remains in the same place." The possibility that Aloysia Weber might

come to Salzburg

{ENCOURAGEMENT FROM L. MOZART.}

(67)

filled him with joy; for, indeed, if the Archbishop really wanted a

prima donna, he could not have a better one. He is already troubled by

the thought "that if people come from Salzburg for the Carnival, and

'Rosamund' is played, poor Mdlle. Weber will perhaps not please, or

at least will not be judged of as she deserves, for she has a wretched

part--almost a _persona muta_--to sing a few bars between the choruses"

(Vol. I., p. 403). "When I am in Salzburg," he continues, "I shall

certainly not fail to intercede with all zeal for my dear friend; and in

the meantime I earnestly hope you will do your best for her--you cannot

give your son any greater pleasure." He begs for permission to take

Mannheim on his way home, in order to visit the Webers.

L. Mozart, knowing how deep and well-founded an antipathy Wolfgang had

for Salzburg, sought to convince him that he would find himself in a

much better position there now than formerly. "Our assured income," he

wrote (September 3, 1778), "is what I have written to you, and your mode

of life will not come in the way of your studies and any other work.

You are not to play the violin at court, but you have full power of

direction at the clavier." This was an important point to Wolfgang, and

his father recurs to it again (September 24, 1778):--

Formerly you were really nothing but a violinist, and that only as

concertmeister; now you are concertmeister and court organist, and your

chief duty is to accompany at the clavier. You will not think it any

disgrace to play the violin as an _amateur_ in the first symphony, since

you will do it in company with the Archbishop himself, and all the

court nobility. Herr Haydn is a man whose musical merit you will readily

acknowledge--should you stigmatise him as a "court fiddler" because,

in his capacity as concertmeister, he plays the viola in the smaller

concerts? It is all by way of amusement; and I would lay a wager that,

rather than hear your compositions bungled, you would set to yourself

with a will."

He consoles him also by reminding him that the concerts at court are

short, from seven o'clock to a quarter past eight, and that seldom

more than four pieces are performed--a symphony, an aria, a symphony or

concerto, and another aria (September 17, 1778). Since the

{PARIS, 1778.}

(68)

payment of their debts did not press, they could pay off annually a

few hundred gulden, and live easily and comfortably. "You will find

amusement enough here; for when one has not to look at every kreutzer,

it makes many things possible. We can go to all the balls at the

Town-Hall during the Carnival. The Munich theatrical company are to

come at the end of September, and to remain here the whole winter with

comedies and operettas. Then there is our quoit-playing every Sunday,

and if we choose to go into society it will come to us; everything is

altered when one has a better income." But the father knew that the

point on which Wolfgang would be most open to persuasion was not the

prospect of Salzburg gaieties, but that of a union with his beloved

Mdlle. Weber; and he goes on to speak on this subject too. Not only does

he say, "You will soon be asked about Mdlle. Weber when you are here;

I have praised her continually, and I will do all I can to gain her a

hearing," but he continues: "As to Mdlle. Weber, you must not imagine

that I disapprove of the acquaintance. All young people must make fools

of themselves. You are welcome to continue your correspondence without

interference from me. Nay, more! I will give you a piece of advice.

Every one knows you here. You had better address your letters to Mdlle.

Weber under cover to some one else, and receive them in the same way,

unless you think my prudence a sufficient safeguard."

The paternal permission to make a fool of himself was calculated to hurt

the lover's tenderest feelings, and he does not disguise that this is

the case in narrating a proof of the genuine attachment of the Webers

for him. "The poor things," he writes (October 15, 1778), "were all in

great anxiety on my account. They thought I was dead, not having heard

from me for a whole month, owing to the loss of a letter; they were

confirmed in their opinion because of a report in Mannheim that my dear

mother had died of an infectious illness. They all prayed for my soul,

and the dear girl went every day to the church of the Capucins. You will

laugh, no doubt? but not I; it touches me; I cannot help it." About the

same time he received the news

{ALOYSIA WEBER AT MUNICH.}

(69)

that Aloysia had obtained an operatic engagement at Munich with a good

salary,[39] and he expresses the mingled feelings with which he heard it

simply and truly:--

I am as pleased at Mdlle. Weber's, or rather at my dear Aloysia's

appointment as any one who has taken such a warm interest in her affairs

was sure to be; but I can no longer expect the fulfilment of my earnest

wish that she should settle in Salzburg, for the Archbishop would never

give her what she is to have in Munich. All I can hope for is that she

will sometimes come to Salzburg to sing in operas.

This turn in affairs must have strengthened Mozart's secret wish

to obtain an appointment under the Elector of Bavaria, and his

determination to do all he could towards this end on his journey through

Mannheim and Munich, and to "turn a cold shoulder" on the Archbishop.

His father had nothing to oppose to such a project except the

uncertainty of its prospects; he sought, therefore, to convince Wolfgang

that his only right course now was to accept the certainty offered to

him, and to keep Munich in view for a future time. He gave him definite

instructions on the point (September 3, 1778):--

Since the Electoral Court is expected in Munich on September 15, you can

speak yourself to your friend Count Seeau, and perhaps to the Elector

himself on your journey through. You can say that your father wishes you

to return to Salzburg, and that the Prince has offered you a salary

of seven or eight hundred florins (add on two or three hundred) as

concertmeister; that you have accepted it from filial duty to your

father, although you know he has always wished to see you in the

electoral service. But, N.B., no more than this! You may want to write

an opera in Munich, and you can do so best from here; it cannot fail

to be so, for German operatic composers are very scarce. Schweitzer and

Holzbauer will not write every year; and should Michl write one, he

will soon be out-Michled. Should there be those who throw doubts and

difficulties in the way, you have friends in the profession who will

stand up for you; and this court will also bring out something during

the year. In short you will be at hand.

It was now quite necessary that Wolfgang should leave Paris; and in

anticipating what he had to expect in Salzburg, he began to feel what he

was leaving in Paris. He

{PARIS, 1778.}

(70)

was angry with Grimm, who desired that he should be ready for his

journey in a week, which was impossible, since he had still claims on

the Duc de Guines and on Le Gros, and must wait to correct the proofs of

his sonatas, and to sell the compositions he had with him.[40] He had

no small desire to write six more trios, for which he might expect good

payment. Grimm's evident wish that he should go, and his offer to

pay the journey to Strasburg (which seemed to the father a proof of

friendship) was considered by Wolfgang as distrust and insincerity.

Grimm no doubt wished to be relieved of the responsibility he had

undertaken as soon as possible, and may have offended his _protégé_

by too open an expression of his desire; but there is no doubt that he

acted according to the mind of the father, and in the sincere opinion

that the unpractical and vacillating young man required decided

treatment. But Wolfgang was so firmly convinced that his departure from

Paris was premature, that he wrote to his father from Strasburg (October

15, 1778), that it was the greatest folly in the world to go to Salzburg

now, and only his love to his father had induced him to set aside the

representations of his friends. He had been praised for this, but with

the remark that--

If my father had known my present good circumstances and prospects, and

had not believed the reports of certain false friends, he would not have

written to me in a way that I could not withstand. And I think myself

that if I had not been so annoyed in the house where I was staying,

and if the whole thing had not come upon me like a thunderbolt, so that

there was no time to consider it in cool blood, I should certainly have

begged you to have a little more patience, and to leave me in Paris; I

assure you I should have gained both money and fame, and been able to

extricate you from all your embarrassments. But it

{STRASBURG, 1778.}

(71)

is done now. Do not imagine that I repent the step, for only you, my

dear father, only you can sweeten for me the bitterness of Salzburg, and

we shall do it--I know we shall; but I must frankly own that I should

come to Salzburg with a lighter heart if I did not know that I was to be

in the service of the court. The idea is intolerable to me.

In the meantime business was wound up, the mother's property and the

heavy baggage was sent direct to Salzburg; and on September 26 Wolfgang

left Paris, having gained much experience but little satisfaction, as

depressed and out of humour as he had entered it.

FOOTNOTES CHAPTER XIX.

[Footnote 1: [Goudard] Le Brigandage de la Musique Italienne (Amsterdam, 1780)

is directed against Italian musicians, but includes in this category "Le

Général Gluck et son Lieutenant-Général Piccinni et tous les autres noms

en _ini_."]

[Footnote 2: Histoire du Théätre de l'Opéra en France, I., p. 164. Fétis, Curios.

Hist, de la Mus., p. 325. Burney gives a detailed account of a "Concert

Spirituel" at which he was present in 1770 (Reise, I., p. n).]

[Footnote 3: Nothing is known of this music, so far as I am aware; Mozart does

not seem to have kept it himself, and therefore did not bring it to

Salzburg.]

[Footnote 4: This Sinfonie Concertante is lost beyond recovery. Mozart sold it to

Le Gros, and kept no copy; he must have thought he could write it again

from memory; but apparently cared the less to do so as there were no

virtuosi in Salzburg able to perform the symphony.]

[Footnote 5: L. de Lomenie, Beaumarchais, II., p. 89. Dutens, Mém., II., p. 59.

Madame du Deffand, Lettr., III., p. 172, 297.]

[Footnote 6: Madame du Deffand, Lettr., IV., p. 107.]

[Footnote 7: The Dauphin was born on December 11, 1778.]

[Footnote 8: Madame de Genlis, Mém., I., p. 288.]

[Footnote 9: She married M. de Chartus (afterwards Duc de Castries) in the summer

of 1778, with a dowry from the King, and died in childbirth (Madame du

Deffand, Lettr., IV., p. 52).]

[Footnote 10: Jos. Frank narrates in his Reminiscences (Prutz, Deutsch. Mus.,

II., p. 28):]

[Footnote 11: The Duchesse de Chabot, daughter of Lord Stafford, mentioned as an

acquaintance by Grimm and Madame Epinay (Galiani, Corr. inéd., II., p.

305).]

[Footnote 12: She was the daughter of the Duke of Orleans, sister to the then

Duc de Chartres, the future Egalité. A short time previously a duel,

of which she was the occasion, between the Duc de Bourbon and the Comte

d'Artois, had made a great stir (Du Deffand, Lettr., IV., p. 28. Grimm,

Corr. Litt., X., p. 1.)]

[Footnote 13: That is on his first visit to Paris. The Duchess entered a convent

in her fifteenth year, and remained there several years (Genlis, Mém.,

III., p. 84).]

[Footnote 14: "Cf. Madame de Genlis, Mém., I., p. 289; II., p. 185.]

[Footnote 15: Grimm, Corr. Litt., IX., p. 174.]

[Footnote 16: Noverre's ballet "Les Petits Riens" was given in June, 1778 (in

Italian by Italian singers), and was praised by Grimm, but without

mention of the music (Corr. Litt., X., p. 53). This composition has also

been irrecoverably lost.]

[Footnote 17: The imposing effect of the simultaneous attack of a fine orchestra

was the occasion of this catchword. Raaff told Mozart of a piquant _bon

mot ä propos_ of the term. He was asked by a Frenchman, at Munich or

some other place: "Monsieur, vous avez été ä Paris?" "Oui." "Est-ce que

vous étiez au Concert Spirituel?" "Oui." "Que dites-vous du premier

coup d'archet? avez-vous entendu le premier coup d'archet?" "Oui, j'ai

entendu le premier et le dernier." "Comment, le dernier? qui veut dire

cela?" "Mais oui, le premier et le dernier, et le dernier même m'a donné

plus de plaisir."]

[Footnote 18: Mozart speaks in a later letter (September 11,1778) of two

symphonies which had been much admired, and of which the last was

performed on September 8. With this agrees his assertion (October 3,

1778) that he had sold to Le Gros two overtures (i.e., symphonies) and

the Sinfonie Concertante. There are no further traces of this symphony.]

[Footnote 19: Mozart has made considerable abbreviations in the first movement

of this symphony, while working oat the score in the manner described

above.]

[Footnote 20: Süddeutsche Mus. Ztg., 1857, No. 44, p. 175.]

[Footnote 21: The father writes to Breitkopf (August 10,1781): "The six sonatas

dedicated to the Elector Palatine were published by M. Sieber, in Paris.

He paid my son for them fifteen louis neuf, thirty copies and a free

dedication."]

[Footnote 22: A fac-similé of the letter to Bullinger will be found at the end of

the third volume.]

[Footnote 23: Mémoires et Correspondance de Madame d'Epinay (Paris, 1818). Cf.

Grimm, Corr. Litt., XI.,? 468. Madame de Genlis, Mém., III., p. 99.

Sainte-Beuve, Causeries du Lundi, II., p. 146.]

[Footnote 24: Grimm's letter to L. Mozart, which the latter forwarded to his son

(August 13, 1778), runs as follows: "Il est _zu treuherzig_, peu actif,

trop aisé ä attraper, trop peu occupé des moyens qui peuvent conduire

ä la fortune. Ici, pour percer, il faut être retors, entreprenant,

audacieux. Je lui voudrais pour sa fortune la moitié moins de talent et

le double plus d'entregent, et je n'en serais pas embarrassé. Au reste,

il ne peut tenter ici que deux chemins pour se faire un sort. Le premier

est de donner des leçons de clavecin; mais sans compter qu'on n'a des

écoliers qu'avec beaucoup d'activité et même de charlatanerie, je ne

sais s'il aurait assez de santé pour soutenir ce métier, car c'est

une chose très fatiguante de courir les quatre coins de Paris et de

s'épuiser ä parler pour montres. Et puis ce métier ne lui plaît pas,

parcequ'il l'empêchera d'écrire, ce qu'il aime par-dessus tout. Il

pourrait donc s'y livrer tout ä fait; mais en ce pays ici le gros du

public ne se connaît pas en musique. On donne par conséquent tout aux

noms, et le mérite de l'ouvrage ne peut être jugé que par un très petit

nombre. Le public est dans ce moment si ridiculement partagé entre

Piccinni et Gluck que tous les raisonnements qu'on entend sur la musique

font pitié. Il est donc très difficile pour votre fils pour réuissir

entre ces deux partis. Vous voyez, mon cher maître, que dans un pays où

tant de musiciens médiocres et détestables même ont fait des fortunes

immenses, je crains fort que M. votre fils ne se tire pas seulement

d'affaire."]

[Footnote 25: Cf. the account 'by Sainte-Beuve, Causeries du Lundi, VII., p. 226;

II., p. 158.]

[Footnote 26: Merck, Briefe, II., p. 282.]

[Footnote 27: Madame de Genlis, Mèm., IV., p. 3.]

[Footnote 28: Jacobs, in Hoffmann's Lebensbilder ber. Humanisten, p. 15.]

[Footnote 29: Grimm, Corr. Litt., X., pp. 37, 112, 162. La Harpe, Corr. Litt.,

II., p. 249.]

[Footnote 30: Grimm, Corr. Litt., X., p. 52.]

[Footnote 31: Prutz, Deutsches Museum, II., p. 28.]

[Footnote 32: Both the father and son, especially the former, follow closely the

course of political and military events, and communicate them to each

other.]

[Footnote 33: The Archbishop's sister, Marie Franziska (b. 1746), who had

married Oliver, Count von Wallis, had a residence assigned her in the

archiépiscopal palace, and kept up a sort of regal state.]

[Footnote 34: Grimm, Corr. Litt., X., p. 236.]

[Footnote 35: There were two Marshals of the name, the Duke and the Count de

Noailles: I do not know which of the two is here meant. The first was

the father of the Countess de Tessé, Mozart's early patroness (Vol. I.,

p. 35), and, like her, was interested in literature and art (Lomenie,

Beaumarchais, I., p. 206).]

[Footnote 36: Tenducci must have taken this composition with him to London.

Burney (Barrington's Miscellanies, p. 289) praises it as a masterpiece

of invention and technical execution (Pohl, Mozart und Haydn in London,

p. 121).]

[Footnote 37: Anton Paris was the third court organist in Salzburg.]

[Footnote 38: The heir-apparent, afterwards King Max I.]

[Footnote 39: Aloysia received a salary of 1,000 florins, her father 400 florins,

together with 200 florins as prompter, as Mozart afterwards learnt at

Mannheim.]

[Footnote 40: He hoped to sell his three pianoforte concertos (238, 246, 271, K.)

to the engraver of his sonatas for ready money, and if possible his six

difficult piano sonatas (279-284 K.). Whether he succeeded or not I do

not know, but they do not seem to have been engraved. His father advised

him to insure his connection with the Parisian publishers for the

future. In a letter to Breitkopf (August xo, 1781), he mentions Trois

airs variés pour le clavecin ou fortepiano, engraved by Heyna, in Paris.

These are the variations on Fischer's Minuet (179 K.); on an air from

Salieri's "Fiera di Venezia," "Mio caro Adone" (180 K.), mentioned in a

letter to his father (December 28,1778); and on "Je suis Lindor," from

Beaumarchais' "Barbier de Seville" (354 K.).]