THE newly married couple began their housekeeping upon an uncertain and
barely sufficing income,
{MARRIED LIFE.}
(264)
and so it remained to the end. Limited means, sometimes even actual
want, failed either to increase the carefulness or to damp the spirits
of husband or wife.
Mozart's sincere and upright love for his wife has been clearly
demonstrated already; it was the talk of Vienna. One day, soon after his
marriage, as he and his wife were walking in the public gardens, they
amused themselves by playing with her little pet dog. Constanze told
Mozart to make believe to beat her, in order to see the indignation of
the dog. As he was doing so, the Emperor came out of his summerhouse
and said, "What! only three weeks married, and come to blows already!"
whereupon Mozart laughingly explained the joke. Later, in 1785, when
there was much talk, even in the newspapers, of the unhappy relations
between Aloysia Lange and her husband,[1] the Emperor met Constanze
Mozart, and said, after some remark on the sad position of her sister:
"What a difference it makes, to have a good husband!"[2] At about the
same time the English tenor, Kelly, was introduced at a musical party
to Mozart and his wife, "whom he loved passionately."[3] His affection
betrays itself in many amiable
{CONSTANZE MOZART.}
(265)
traits, and most clearly in the letters addressed to his wife on his
later journeys, to which she herself expressly appeals as proofs of his
"rare affection and excessive tenderness for her."[4] An expression of
Nissen's that Constanze cared "perhaps more for his talent than himself"
might lead to a belief that his love was not returned in full measure;
but against this view we have the testimony of worthy Niemet-schek, who
knew them both, and says: "Mozart was happy in his union with Constanze
Weber. She made him a good, loving wife, who accommodated herself
admirably to his ways, and gained his full confidence and a power over
him which she often used to restrain him from rash actions. He loved her
sincerely, confided all to her, even his faults, and she rewarded him
with tenderness and faithful care. All Vienna knew of their mutual
affection, and the widow can never think without emotion of her days
of wedded life." Constanze had, as Mozart had written before their
marriage, "not much intellect, but enough common sense to fulfil
her duties as a wife and mother." It can, indeed, be gathered from
contemporary letters and notices[5] that she had neither
{MARRIED LIFE.}
(266)
natural capacity nor what we call education enough to render her on an
equality with Mozart, or to elevate him by her intellectual influence;
nay, rather, she failed fully to appreciate or understand him. Like all
the Weber family, she had musical talent, which had been cultivated up
to a certain point. "She played the clavier and sang nicely."[6] At the
Mozarteum, in Salzburg, there is the commencement of a "Sonata ä deux
Cembali," unfinished, with the superscription "Per la Signora Constanza
Weber--ah!" A sonata for pianoforte and violin, in C major, which only
wants the concluding bars of the last movement (403 K.), belonging to
the year 1782, is inscribed "Sonate Première, par moi, W. A. Mozart,
pour ma très chère épouse." In a letter to Härtel (February 25, 1799),
the widow mentions a march for the piano which her husband had composed
for her. Although her voice was not so fine as those of her sisters
Aloysia and Josepha, she sang very well, especially by sight, so that
Mozart used to try his compositions with her. Solfeggi by Mozart are
preserved, with the inscription--"Per la mia cara Constanze," or "Per
la mia cara consorte" (393 K.), some of them exercises of a few bars'
length, others elaborate passages in varied tempo and style, which give
abundant practice for execution and delivery. There is a song also--"In
te spero o sposo amato," (Metastasio, "Demofoonte"), mentioned by the
widow in a letter to Härtel (February 25, 1799), as composed "per la
cara mia consorte," which implies a compass and volubility reminding us
of her sister Aloysia. It was natural, therefore, that Constanze should
take the soprano parts in any private performances among their friends,
and we know that she once sang the soprano soli of the Mass in C minor
(427 K.) at Salzburg, which require a first-rate singer.
We must also give her credit for more than ordinary musical taste and
cultivation, from her partiality for fugues, of which Mozart writes to
his sister (April 20, 1782), when he sent her a prelude and fugue (394
K.), which he had composed for her:--
{CONSTANZE'S SYMPATHY.}
(267)
The cause of this fugue coming into the world is in reality my dear
Constanze. Baron van Swieten, to whom I go every Sunday, allowed me to
take home all the works of Handel and Sebastian Bach, after I had played
them to him. When Constanze heard the fugues, she quite fell in love
with them; she cares for nothing but fugues now, especially those of
Handel and Bach. Having often heard me play fugues out of my head,
she asked me if I had never written any down? and when I said no, she
scolded me roundly for not writing the most artistic and beautiful
things in music; she would not leave me any peace until I had written
down a fugue, and so it came to pass.
Mozart would hardly have been happy with a wife who possessed neither
taste nor understanding for music. But neither would his creative power
have been strengthened by an intellectually excitable and exciting
wife; it was far more beneficial for him to find womanly sympathy in
his household affairs, and to be soothed rather than urged to greater
efforts. She patiently bore his abstraction when his mind was intent
upon musical ideas, and gave in to many little whims, which in Mozart
seldom proceeded from ill-temper. He was never disturbed by the
conversation and noise going on around him when he was writing down his
compositions; it was rather agreeable to him to have his attention so
far occupied in other directions that his excessive productivity was
held, as it were, in check. His wife would sit by him and tell him
stories and nursery tales, over which he would laugh heartily, working
all the time; the more ludicrous they were the better he was pleased.[7]
She was always ready to cut up his meat for him at table, an operation
which he tried to avoid, lest in his abstraction he should do himself
an injury[8]--an oddity which is only mentioned as a proof how much of a
child Mozart always remained in many of the ways of life.
He was severely tried by his wife's delicacy; her health was undermined
by frequent and often dangerous confinements, and she was often,
especially in the year 1789, for many months in a critical condition. He
bestowed the tenderest care upon her, and spared nothing that was likely
to benefit
{MARRIED LIFE.}
(268)
her, even when the remedy proposed (as for instance, repeated visits
to Baden for some years) was a severe tax upon his slender resources.
Instances of liberality like that displayed to him on one occasion of
his wife's illness by a comparative stranger were few and far between. A
certain honest tripe-boiler, Rindum by name, who knew nothing of
Mozart personally, but who delighted in his musiç, heard that his wife,
suffering from lameness, had been ordered footbaths of the water in
which tripe had been cooked; he begged her to go to his house for them
as often as she pleased, and at the termination of the cure he could
not be induced to accept any payment either for them or for board and
lodging during a considerable time.[9] As for Mozart himself, the care
that he bestowed upon her was tender and loving to an uncommon degree.
He used to ride every morning at five o'clock, but he never went without
leaving a paper in the form of a prescription upon his wife's bed, with
some directions of this kind:--
Good morning, my darling wife, I hope that you have slept well, and that
nothing has disturbed you; I desire you not to get up too early, not to
take cold, not to stoop, not to stretch, not to scold the servants, not
to fall over the doorstep. Do not be vexed at anything until I return.
May nothing happen to you! I shall be back at ---- o'clock.[10]
The tenderest anxiety for his wife's health is expressed in his letters,
and he especially cautions her to spare her weak foot. Frau Haibl
(Sophie Weber) narrates:[11]--
How troubled Mozart was when anything ailed his dear little wife! On one
occasion she had been ill for fully eight months, and I had nursed her.
I was sitting by her bed, and so was Mozart. He was composing, and I was
watching the sleep into which she had at last fallen; we were as quiet
as the grave for fear of disturbing her. A rough maidservant came
suddenly into the room. Mozart, fearing that his wife would be awakened,
wished to beckon for silence, and pushed his chair backwards with an
open knife in his hand. The knife struck between his chair and his
thigh, and went almost up to the handle in his flesh. Mozart was usually
very susceptible of pain, but now he controlled
{ILLNESS OF MOZART'S WIFE.}
(269)
himself, and made no sign of pain, but beckoned me to follow him out
of the room. We went into another room, in which our good mother was
concealed, because we did not wish Mozart to know how ill his wife was,
and yet the mother's presence was necessary in case of emergency. She
bound the wound and cured it with healing oil. He went lame for some
time, but took care that his wife should know nothing of it.
He became so accustomed during this long illness to receive every
visitor with his finger on his lip, and the low exclamation "Chut!" that
even some time after her recovery, when he saw an acquaintance in the
street, he would walk on tiptoe, and whisper "Chut!" with his finger
on his lip.[12] The contemplation of such deep-seated affection as this
causes us to be more surprised to hear that Mozart, whose unmarried life
had been without a blemish, was, nevertheless, unfaithful to his wife.
She told herself how Mozart acknowledged his indiscretions to her, and
how she forgave him: "He was so good, it was impossible to be angry with
him; one was obliged to forgive him." Her sister, however, betrays that
Constanze was not always so patient, and that there were occasional
violent outbreaks, which is quite conceivable; but it is also abundantly
evident (and Mozart's letters to his wife fully confirm the fact) that
the close and tender relations of each to the other were not seriously
disturbed by these failings.[13] They might on this account alone be
lightly dismissed, and in addition it must be remembered that rumour was
busy among the public and in the press, and magnified solitary instances
of weakness on Mozart's part into distinguishing features of his
character. He was credited with intrigues with every pupil he had, and
every singer for whom he wrote a song; it was considered a witty remark
to designate him as the actual prototype of his Don Juan; and his
dissipated life was even considered as the proper confirmation of his
artistic genius. Exceptional gifts and accomplishments cannot do away
with the equality of all men before the moral law; transgressions of the
moral law may be judged leniently or severely, as the case may be,
{MARRIED LIFE.}
(270)
but weaknesses, which in ordinary men are judged lightly, or passed over
altogether, must not be measured by another standard, or made the sign
of complete moral degradation when they are committed by an artist and a
genius whose very faults interest us more than the virtues of other men.
Nor should implicit confidence be placed in the gossip and chatter which
surround this side of a great man's private life, and turn errors into
crimes. The free and easy manners and ideas of the day, which found
special favour in Vienna,[14] the peculiar temptations to which an
artist's temperament and mode of life expose him, make Mozart's failings
conceivable. If it be remembered further how imprudently Mozart behaved,
how professional envy and meanness designedly tarnished his fame, it
will be readily conceded that better grounds for a fair estimate of
Mozart's character are to be found in numerous well-authenticated and
consistent instances of his true nobility of mind than in idle and
malicious gossip. The earnest spirit in which he looked upon these
things is well displayed in a letter to his best and dearest friend,
Gottfried von Jacquin (Prague, November 4,1787):--
Now, my dear friend, how are you? I hope that you are all as hale and
hearty as we are; you cannot but be content, dear friend, since you
possess all that you can desire at your age and in your position;
especially since you seem altogether to have renounced your former
somewhat unsettled life. Do you not daily grow more convinced of
the truth of my little lecture? Is not the pleasure of a fickle
and capricious love a thousand times removed from the blessedness
accompanying a sincere and rational affection? I am sure you often
thank me in your heart for my advice! You will make me quite proud! But
without a joke--you owe me a little gratitude if you have really made
yourself worthy of Fräulein N., for I played no unimportant part in your
improvement or reformation.
{MOZART'S MORAL CHARACTER.}
(271)
Hummel, who was received into Mozart's house as his pupil, wrote in
1831, when he lay dying at Kissingen: "I declare it to be untrue that
Mozart abandoned himself to excess, except on those rare occasions on
which he was enticed by Schikaneder, which had chiefly to do with
the "Zauberflote."[15] His intimacy with the notorious profligate
Schikaneder during the summer of 1791, when his wife was an invalid at
Baden, and the excesses to which he then gave way, have been magnified
by report, and made the foundation of the exaggerated representation of
Mozart's thoughtless life.[16] The further reproach brought against him
of extravagance and bad management of his household must not be left
altogether unnoticed, illiberal as it may seem to hold up for the
examination of posterity the trivial cares of housekeeping and
money-getting which, when ordinary mortals are concerned, are kept
sacred within the four walls of the home. But this part of Mozart's life
has been intruded so often into the foreground, that a concise
statement of the facts belonging to it seems indispensable. By some his
contemporaries have been condemned for allowing his mind to be hampered
by unworthy cares, by others he has himself been reproved for having
brought himself to poverty by thoughtless extravagance; both these views
are exaggerated and in this sense unjust.
It is true that Mozart was not so highly esteemed in Vienna during his
life as after his death. The general public admired him chiefly as
a pianoforte-player, the downfall of German opera prevented his
continuance along the successful path which his "Entführung" had opened
to him, and his Italian operas did not obtain so great a measure of
{MARRIED LIFE.}
(272)
applause as the lighter ones of his contemporaries; when the
"Zauberflöte" made its effect it was too late. It is scarcely
surprising, therefore, that he failed to reach the position before the
world which should by right have been his. But though it is easy for
posterity to decide that Mozart had just claims to a place by the side
of Gluck and above Bono, Salieri and Starzer, it must not be forgotten
that his contemporaries had before them a young and struggling
artist, and that those veterans had long been in possession of their
distinguished places. Without laying too much stress upon the intrigues
of opponents, or the Emperor's parsimony, it is plain that Mozart could
not readily attain a position which had first to be created for him. He
himself was encouraged by the brilliant success of the "Entführung"
and the universal applause which he received as a pianist to hope for a
secure and respectable position, and he was bitterly disappointed that
his good recommendations failed to procure him the post of teacher to
the Princess Elizabeth. In his usual impulsive style he resolved on
quitting Vienna at once, and wrote to his father (August 17, 1782):--
The Vienna gentlemen (among whom the Emperor comes foremost) shall not
imagine that I have nothing to do in the world outside Vienna. It is
true that I would rather serve the Emperor than any other monarch, but
I will never stoop to beg for any service. I believe myself to be in a
position to do honour to any court. If Germany, my beloved fatherland,
of which, as you know, I am proud, refuses me, then must France or
England be the richer for a clever German--to the disgrace of the German
nation. I need not tell you that the Germans have excelled other nations
in almost every art--but where did the artists make their fortunes or
their fame? Certainly not in Germany! Even Gluck--did Germany make him
the great man he is? Alas, no! The Countess Thun, Count Zichy, Baron
van Swieten, and Prince Kaunitz are all vexed with the Emperor for not
encouraging men of talent to remain in his service. Prince Kaunitz said
to the Archduke Maximilian, speaking of me, that such men only came into
the world once in a hundred years, and ought not to be driven out of
Germany, especially when the monarch is so fortunate as to possess them
in his capital. You cannot think how kind and polite Prince Kaunitz
was in an interview I had with him; he said when I took leave: "I am
indebted to you, my dear Mozart, for taking the trouble of calling on
me, &c." You would not believe either how
{PLANS FOR SEEKING FORTUNE ABROAD.}
(273)
anxious the Countess Thun, Baron van Swieten, and other great people
are to retain me here; but I cannot wait long, and _will_ not wait on
charity, as it were. Emperor though he be, I would rather dispense with
his favours than accept them in such a way.
His idea, as he let fall now and then in conversation, was to go to
Paris for the following Lent. He wrote on the subject to Le Gros, and
was of opinion that if he could only obtain engagements for the "Concert
spirituel" and the "Concert des amateurs," he would have no lack of
pupils, and could also do something in the way of composition; his main
object would of course be an opera.[17] With this end in view he had
been for some time studying the French language, and had also taken
lessons in English, in the further expectation of making a tour in
England; he thought he should understand the language fairly well in
three months.[18] His father was not a little disturbed by this new
idea; he opposed it with every argument he could find to his son, and
even wrote on the subject to the Baroness von Waldstädten (August 23,
1782):[19]--
I should be quite reconciled (to the marriage), if I did not discover
a great fault in my son: he is too indolent and easy-going, perhaps
occasionally too proud, and all these qualities united make a man
inactive; or else he grows impatient and cannot wait for anything. He is
altogether ruled by opposite extremes--too much, or too little, and no
medium. When he is in no pressing need he is quite content, and becomes
indolent and inactive. Once set going, he is all on fire, and thinks he
is going to make his fortune all at once. Nothing is allowed to stand
in his way, and unfortunately it is just the cleverest people, the
exceptional men of genius, who find continual obstacles in their path.
What is there to prevent his having a prosperous career in Vienna, if he
only has a little patience? Kapellmeister Bono is an aged man. Salieri
will be promoted at his death, and will leave another place vacant. And
is not Gluck also an old man? Honoured madam, exhort him to patience,
and pardon me for asking the favour of your ladyship's opinion on the
matter.
{MARRIED LIFE.}
(274)
His remonstrances had the desired effect upon Wolfgang; he was obliged
to acknowledge to his father (August 24, 1782) that it would be better
to prolong his stay at Vienna; that he could go to France or England
at any time. L. Mozart, reassured, wrote to the Baroness (September
13, 1782): "My son has relinquished his intention of leaving Vienna at
present, in consequence of my letters; and as he now intends to visit
me in Salzburg, I shall be able to make the strongest and most necessary
representations to him on the subject."
These representations were all the more effective since Mozart had
at this juncture every reason to be satisfied with the sympathy and
applause of the Vienna public. It is true that on the revival of Italian
opera his works were excluded from the theatre; but in the year 1786
the Emperor proved that he had not forgotten him by commissioning him
to compose the "Schauspieldirector" and "Figaro." But when Mozart,
nevertheless, failed to obtain a permanent post, the idea again
seriously presented itself of leaving Vienna and going to England.
An Englishman named Thomas Attwood (1767-1838) had come from Italy
to Vienna in the year 1785, and become Mozart's pupil. By a singular
coincidence also the English tenor, Michael Kelly, and the English
prima donna, Nancy Storace, were engaged at the Italian Opera. Stephen
Storace, the brother, was also resident in Vienna as a composer for a
considerable time. Mozart was on very friendly terms with them, and his
design was thereby strengthened. At the beginning of November, 1786, he
wrote to his father that he intended in the latter part of the Carnival
to undertake a journey through Germany to England if his father would
consent to receive and take charge of his two children and the servants.
Constanze was to accompany him.
"I have written pretty strongly," L. Mozart informs his daughter
(November 17, 1786), "and promised to send him the continuation of my
letter by the next post. It is not a bad idea, in truth. They may go
away quietly--they may die--they may stay in England. Then I may run
after them with the children; and as to the payment which he is to give
{L. MOZART'S DISAPPROBATION.}
(275)
me for the children and servants, &c., Basta! My refusal is explicit
and instructive, if he chooses to take it so." We see how prejudiced
the once tender father had become against his son and his son's wife;
whereas his daughter, who had married in 1784, came to his house to be
confined, and he afterwards took entire charge of her son Leopold, a
fact which he concealed from Wolfgang. Wolfgang's plan was given up
immediately on receipt of this letter from his father. But when his
English friend left Vienna at the beginning of February, 1787, and
returned to England, the wish to accompany him rose strong in Mozart. He
had become more prudent meanwhile. Attwood was to prepare a settled post
for him in London, and to procure him a commission to write an opera or
subscriptions for a concert, and then only he would come. He hoped that
his father would in this case relieve him of the care of his children
until he should have decided whether he would remain there permanently
or return to Germany. The English travellers passed through Salzburg,
and made L. Mozart's acquaintance, to their mutual satisfaction;[20] but
his objections against Wolfgang's journey were not by any means removed.
He wrote to him in a fatherly way, as he informs his daughter (March 1,
1787), "that he would make nothing by a journey in summer, and would go
to England at a wrong time; he would spend about two thousand florins,
and would certainly come to want, for Storace is sure to write the first
opera. Wolfgang would lose heart very soon."
Mozart again abandoned his intention, but not before rumours of it
had reached the public ear,[21] rumours which showed the Emperor the
necessity for giving him a
{MARRIED LIFE.}
(276)
permanent post, in order to keep him in Vienna.[22] Unhappily, Mozart's
father did not live to see this end to all his anxieties. He died on May
28, 1787.
As there was no kapellmeister's place vacant, the Emperor appointed
Mozart his "private musician," (Kammermusicus) with a salary of eight
hundred florins. The smallness of the sum was ascribed to the influence
of Strack; he was, as usual, appealed to for advice, and humoured the
Emperor's inclination to parsimony. The appointment was made on December
7, 1787; in August, 1788, Mozart assures his sister that he is really
appointed, and that his name appears on the official theatrical list as
"kapellmeister in the actual service of his imperial majesty." Gluck,
who had been appointed "private composer" (Kammercompositeur) by Maria
Theresa on the 7th of October, 1774, with a salary of two thousand
florins, died on November 15, 1787. Mozart naturally took his place; but
it does not seem to have occurred to the court that a corresponding rise
of salary would have been no undeserved distinction.
Mozart himself was not dissatisfied with his pay, since none of the
musicians attached to the imperial household received more; but he was
justly annoyed, at a later date, when he was suffered to draw his pay
without having the opportunity given him of producing any important
work. He looked upon it as an alms doled out to him, while the
opportunity of distinguishing himself as a composer was denied, and
wrote bitterly after the customary entry of his income on the official
return: "Too much for what I do; too little for what I could do."[23]
This was not the right way to remind those in authority that a promise
of "promotion" on the first seasonable opportunity had been held out to
him. The cares which beset the closing years of the Emperor Joseph are
explanation sufficient of the decline of his interest in music and the
drama and his care for the great composer; this, however, the latter
failed to perceive. It was clear also that he did not know how to turn
his
{OFFERS AND HOPES OF PROMOTION.}
(277)
opportunities to advantage, when, in May, 1789, he refused the offer
of Frederick William II. to make him kapellmeister in Berlin with three
thousand florins salary. With unselfish emotion Mozart exclaimed: "How
can I desert my good Emperor?" The King wished him to reconsider the
proposal, and promised to hold to his word for an indefinite period if
Mozart would consent to come.[24]
Once returned to Vienna, Mozart thought no more of the matter, and only
after much persuasion from his friends was induced to lay it before the
Emperor and tender his resignation. In unpleased surprise Joseph asked:
"What, do you mean to forsake me, Mozart?" Whereupon Mozart answered
with emotion: "May it please your majesty, I will stay." Upon the
question of a friend as to whether he had not taken the opportunity of
demanding some compensation, he exclaimed angrily: "Who the devil would
have thought of that at such a time?"
At the end of 1789 he received the commission to write the opera
of "Cosi fan Tutte," but Joseph II. died (February 20, 1790) before
Mozart's position had been permanently provided for. After the accession
of Leopold II. he appears to have made an attempt to obtain the post
of second kapellmeister under Salieri (old Bono had died in 1788,
and Salieri had been promoted to his place),[25] but this also was
unsuccessful. Convinced that he must now, for the present at least,
renounce all hope of promotion at court, he applied to the civic
authorities for the post of assistant to the Kapellmeister Hofmann at
the Stephans-kirche. The application was granted, with the promise of
Hofmann's lucrative post in case of his death; but the old man survived
Mozart, and this hope of an independence fell through with the rest.[26]
Under these circumstances Mozart
{MARRIED LIFE.}
(278)
was thrown back for a means of livelihood upon lessons, concerts, and
composition. We know how much he disliked lesson-giving (Vol. I., p.
411), and his dislike was more likely to increase than diminish, and
yet he was obliged to lay himself out to give lessons. In May, 1790, he
wrote to his friend Puchberg: "I have two pupils now, and should like
to make the number up to eight; try to spread it about that I give
lessons." Mozart was never a fashionable and well-paid music-master in
Vienna, such as Steffan, Kozeluch, or Righini. This may excite surprise,
since he was so distinguished as a pianist, but he was wanting in the
patience and pliability necessary, and perhaps also in steadiness
and regularity. When he met with talent or enthusiasm, or when he was
personally attracted, he was fond of giving lessons; as, for instance,
to Franziska (afterwards Frau von Lagusius), the sister of his friend
Gottfried von Jacquin, to whom he writes from Prague (January 14,
1787):--
I kiss your sister's hand a thousand times, and beg her to practise
industriously on her new pianoforte--but the recommendation is
unnecessary, for I must own that I never had so industrious and zealous
a pupil as herself--and I rejoice in the expectation of giving her
further instruction, according to my poor ability.
She was considered an excellent pianiste, and one of Mozart's best
pupils; he wrote the trio with clarinet and tenor (498 K.) for her
(August 5, 1786).[27] He also sent her the grand Sonata for four hands
in C major (521 K.) as soon as it was finished (May 29, 1787), with a
message through her brother that "she must set about it at once, for
it was somewhat difficult." They were mostly ladies to whom he gave
lessons, for the ladies of high rank in Vienna were cultivated enough to
be considered as leaders of fashion,
{LESSONS AND PUPILS.}
(279)
more especially in music.[28] Among them were students in the genuine
sense of the word, such as Frau von Trattnern, to whom Mozart addressed
elaborate written communications on the execution of his clavier
compositions, more especially on his Fantasia in C minor, composed for
her.[29] For Barbara Ployer he composed (February 9, 1784) the Concerto
in E flat major (449 K.), which he did not consider as among his great
ones, and the more difficult one in G Major (453 K.); and he writes to
his father (June 9, 1784):--
To-morrow there is to be a concert at Herr Ployer's country-house
in Dobling; Fräulein Babette is to play her new concerto in G, I the
quintet [with wind instruments, in E flat major, 452 K.], and then both
of us the grand sonata for two pianos [in D major, composed early in
1784, 448 K.]. I am to take Paesiello, who has been here since May on
his return journey from St. Petersburg, in order that he may hear my
compositions and my pupils.
No doubt the greater number of his pupils either--like Fräulein
Aumhammer--cared more for social intercourse with Mozart than for actual
instruction, or took lessons for a short time only that they might be
able to speak of the great performer as their teacher. The celebrated
physician, Jos. Frank, relates that he took twelve lessons from him in
1790:[30]--
I found Mozart a little man with a large head and plump hand, and was
somewhat coldly received by him. "Now," said he, "play me something."
I played a fantasia of his own composition. "Not bad," said he, to my
great astonishment; "but now listen to me play it." It was a miracle!
The piano became another instrument under his hands. It was strengthened
by a second piano, which served him as a pedal.[31] Mozart then made
some remarks as to the way in which I should perform the fantasia. I was
fortunate enough to understand him. "Do
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you play any other pieces of my composition?" "Yes," answered I; "your
variations on the theme 'Unser dummer Pobel meint' (455 K.), and a
sonata with accompaniments for violin and violoncello." "Good!
I will play you that piece; you will profit more by hearing me than by
playing them yourself."
It is plain that he had the tact and skill to manage even such pupils
as these. He treated those who had the power and the wish to become true
artists under his guidance in quite another fashion, and they profited
not only by his regular instruction, but still more by his encouragement
and incitement to exertion.
Johann Nepomuk Hummel came to Vienna in 1785, with his father, who
afterwards undertook the conductorship of the opera, under Schikaneder;
at seven years of age the young Hummel already created great
expectations by his clavier-playing. A pupil of Mozart's, named
Freystädter, brought Hummel to him in 1797; the boy played one of the
easier sonatas (with which Mozart had no fault to find, except as to
the hurried _tempo_), and then one of his newest concertos by heart.[32]
Thereupon Mozart decided to undertake Hummel's instruction, but only
on condition that he resided with them altogether. We are not told how
often or with what regularity he received lessons; but he heard Mozart
play, and had to play over to him any clavier music that came into the
house. One evening Mozart returned late from some entertainment with
his wife, and found a piece of music which he was curious to hear. Young
Hummel, who had been awaiting their return, had lain down on a couple
of chairs and fallen asleep. "Stanzerl," said Mozart, to his wife; "wake
Hans, and give him a glass of wine." No sooner said than done; and the
boy played the new piece of music, late at night as it was.[33]
Mozart's musical instruction was sure to be desultory. Freystädter
relates that he generally received Mozart's directions and corrections
of his musical exercises sitting at a side-table, while a game of bowls
was going on.[34] Attwood
{MOZART'S LESSONS IN THEORY.}
(28l)
also tells us that Mozart sometimes persuaded him to join in a game of
billiards instead of taking a lesson.[35] The pupils did not consider
their master guilty of caprice and neglect; but felt themselves spurred
to activity by their intercourse with him.
Mozart took young Hummel everywhere with him, made him play, played
duets with him, and declared that the boy would soon excel himself as
a pianist. Hummel was greatly attached to Mozart, both then and ever
after; he remained in his house for two years, until in November, 1788,
his father set out with him on a professional tour.
Mozart also gave lessons in the theory of music, sometimes even to
ladies; we hear of a cousin of the Abbé Stadler as Mozart's pupil
in thorough-bass. The exercise-book which he used for instruction in
thorough-bass in 1784 is now in the Imperial library at Vienna.[36]
Mozart wrote down a very characteristic melody, or a bass, or both,
which the pupil was to arrange in several parts; then Mozart corrected
the passage with short remarks on the various mistakes, alternately
Italian or German, sometimes of a comic nature--for instance: "Ho l'
onore di dirla, che lei ha fatta la scioc-cagine (da par Suo) di far due
ottave tra il 2do Violino ed il Basso"; or in German: "This E is very
forced here; it shows that it has only been put in to prevent too rapid
a passage from one consonance to another--just as bad poets often do
stupid things for the sake of rhyme. You might have gone gradually from
C to D very prettily by inserting thirds." These remarks are purely
grammatical; and it is evident that Mozart's teaching was of the good
old-fashioned kind, which strives first to give the pupil a thorough
knowledge of the grammar of his art. From exercise-books of this kind,
of which Zelter saw one in Vienna,[37] a little
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handbook of thorough-bass was afterwards printed under Mozart's name,
and was much in use for some time.[38] With more advanced pupils he
naturally proceeded differently. Attwood preserved an exercise-book with
compositions, which he had submitted to Mozart shortly after his arrival
in Vienna. Mozart had crossed out whole passages, and rewritten them
with the remark, "I should have done this so."[39] When Kelly, the
tenor, who made pretty little songs which Mozart admired, imagined that
he could make himself into a serious composer by means of studies in
counterpoint, Mozart said to him, "If you had studied counterpoint long
ago in Naples, you would have done well; now that you have to give
your mind to your education as a singer, you will make nothing of it.
Remember that half-knowledge is a dangerous thing. You have considerable
talent in the invention of melodies; a smattering of theory would ruin
that, and you can always find some musician who can help you when
you want it. Melody is the essence of music. I should compare one who
invents melodies to a noble racehorse, and a mere contrapuntist to a
hired post hack. So let it alone; and remember the old Italian proverb
'Chi sa più, meno sa.'"[40]
Lesson-giving might fail greatly to increase either Mozart's fame or
his income, but his success as a virtuoso was brilliant and lasting.
His father warned him, when he talked of settling in Vienna, of the
fickleness of the public, but Wolfgang answered cheerfully (June 2,
1781):--
The Viennese certainly love change--_but only at the theatre_, and
my line is too popular not to be supported. This is, in truth,
_Clavierland!_ and, even supposing they were to tire of me, it would not
be for several years, and in the meantime I should have made both money
and reputation.
In this expectation he was not disappointed; the applause which greeted
him on his first appearance was repeated as often as he appeared in
Vienna.
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(283)
The proper season for concerts, and also for private musical parties,
was Lent, when the theatres were closed; the concerts were generally
given in the theatre.[41] Mozart invariably gave a concert in Lent.
After the success of the first (1782) he used to make a common
undertaking every spring with a certain Phil. Jac. Martin. He was a
native of Regensburg, who had studied with good old Bullinger at the
Jesuit College in Munich, and supported himself with difficulty: "quite
a young man, who tries hard to get on in the world by his music, his
beautiful handwriting, and especially by his clever head and strong
intellect" (May 29, 1782). Martin had established an amateur musical
society, which gave concerts every Friday during the winter.[42] Mozart
writes to his father (May 8, 1782):--
You know that there are a number of amateurs here, and very good ones,
both male and female; hitherto there has been no organisation among
them. This Martin has now received permission from the Emperor, with
expressions of the highest approbation, to give twelve concerts in the
Augarten and four grand evening concerts on the finest open spaces in
the city.[43] The subscription for the whole summer is two ducats. You
can well imagine that we shall get subscribers enough, all the more
for my being associated with him. Even supposing that we only get one
hundred subscribers, and that the expenses amount to two hundred florins
(an outside sum), that means three hundred florins profit for each of
us. Baron van Swieten and the Countess Thun are taking it up warmly.
The orchestra is entirely amateur, with the exception of the bassoons,
trumpets, and drums.
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The Imperial Augarten replaced the old "Favorite" established by Joseph
I. in the Leopold Vorstadt of Vienna. It was laid out by Joseph II.,
and opened to the public for their free use in 1775, with the well-known
inscription over the entrance: "Public place of recreation dedicated to
all men, by one who esteems them."[44] The principal building was used
as an hotel, and the Emperor built for himself a simple little house,
surrounded by wooden palings, where he sometimes spent several days, and
amused himself by walking freely among his people. On Sunday afternoons
in especial, all the fashionable population of Vienna strolled
there,[45] so that the speculation promised to be a successful one.
It provided plenty of occupation for its promoters. Mozart writes (May
25, 1782):--
To-morrow is our first entertainment in the Augarten. At half-past eight
Martin is to call for me in a hackney-coach, and we have six visits to
make; I must be ready by eleven o'clock to go to Rumbeck; then I dine
with the Countess Thun; we are to rehearse the music in her garden in
the evening. There is to be a symphony by Van Swieten, and another by
me; Mdlle. Berger, an amateur, is to sing; a boy named Türk[46] is
to play a violin concerto, and Fräulein von Aurnhammer and I the duet
concerto in E flat (365 K.).
The first concert went off well; among the audience were the Archduke
Maximilian, the Countess Thun, Wallenstein, Baron van Swieten, and
many other musical connoisseurs, but we hear nothing further of the
undertaking, which cannot have been so brilliant a success as had been
hoped.[47] There was no doubt, however, as to the success which Mozart
achieved during the Lenten concerts of 1783. He contributed greatly
towards the success of a concert given by his sister-in-law, Aloysia
Lange, at the theatre on
{CONCERT FOR ALOYSIA LANGE.}
(285)
March 11. His Parisian symphony for the Concert spirituel (297 K., Vol.
II., p. 49) was performed on this occasion, after which Madame Lange
sang the song which he had composed for her in Mannheim: "Non sò d'onde
viene" (294 K., Vol. I., p. 419), with new variations for the voice.
How many memories it must have awakened in them both! "Gluck had the box
next to the Langes," he informed his father (March 12, 1783), "in which
was also my wife. He could not praise enough either the symphony or the
song, and he invited us all to dinner next Sunday." In addition Mozart
played a concerto of his own composition. "The theatre was very full;
and I was so well received by the public, that I could but feel happy
and content. After I had gone away the clapping was so persistent that
I was obliged to return and repeat the rondo. It was a perfect storm of
applause." For his own concert on March 22 every box was taken, and the
theatre "could not have been fuller." The programme of this concert,
which he copied for his father, gives us an idea of what Mozart's
concerts were. There were performed:--
1. The new Hafner symphony, composed the previous summer (385 K., Vol.
II., p. 210).
2. Air from "Idomeneo," "Se il padre perdei" (366 K.), sung by Madame
Lange.
3. The third subscription concerto, then just published, in C major (415
K., No. 5).
4. The Countess Baumgarten's scena (369 K., Vol. II., p. 168), sung by
Adamberger.
5. The short Sinfonia-concertante of the last "Final-musik" (320 K.,
Vol. II., p. 87).
6. The favourite concerto in D (175, 382 K., Vol. I., p. 324).
7. Scena, "Parto, m' affretto," from "Lucio Silla" (135 K., Vol. I., p.
180), sung by Mdlle. Teyber.
8. Impromptu fantasia by Mozart, beginning with a short fugue, "because
the Emperor was there" (Vol. II., p. 173), followed by variations on an
air from the opera of "Der eingebildete Philosoph" by Paesiello ("Salve
Tu, Domine"), and when the thunder of applause obliged him to play
again, he chose the air "Unser dummer Pöbel meint," from Gluck's
"Pilgrims of Mecca," as a theme for variations.
9. A new rondo, composed for Madame Lange, and performed by her (416
K.).
10. The last movement of the first symphony.
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This programme makes it evident that the demands on a concert-giver were
far greater then than now, and the public were undoubtedly more patient
listeners. "What pleased me most," wrote Wolfgang to his father (March
29, 1783), "was the sight of the Emperor, and how pleased he was, and
how he applauded me. It is always his custom to send the money for his
box to the pay-place before he comes to the theatre; otherwise I might
certainly have expected more (than twenty-five ducats), for his delight
was beyond all bounds." A short time after Mozart played a concerto at
Mdlle. Teyber's concert.[48] Again the rondo was encored, but when
he sat down to the piano again, he had the desk removed in order to
improvise. "This little surprise delighted the audience immensely; they
clapped, and cried 'Bravo, bravissimo!'" The Emperor did not leave this
concert until Mozart had quite finished playing. So the latter in high
glee informs his father (April 12,1783). In Lent, 1784,[49] besides a
concert in the theatre, which took place in April, Mozart proposed to
give six subscription concerts, and he begs his father to send him the
score of "Idomeneo," because he intended to produce it (December 6,
1783).
The pianoforte teacher Richter had established Saturday concerts, which
were attended by the nobility only upon the understanding that Mozart
was to play; after playing at three of them he raised subscriptions (six
florins) for three concerts of his own, which took place on the three
last Wednesdays in Lent (March 17, 24, and 31), in a fine hall belonging
to Trattnern, a bookseller.[50] The list of subscribers
{LENTEN CONCERTS, 1784.}
(287)
numbered 174 names,[51] thirty more than were procured by the partners,
Richter and Fischer; the latter was a violin-player, married to Storace,
the singer.[52].
"The first concert, on the 17th," Mozart writes (March 20, 1784),
"went off well; the hall was crammed full, and the new concerto, which I
played, was very well received; every one is talking about the concert."
The succeeding performances were equally successful, so that he was able
to assure his father that they had been of considerable service to him.
Besides the subscription concerts, he gave two others in the theatre,
which also went off well. "To-morrow should have been my first
concert in the theatre," he writes (March 20, 1784), "but Prince Louis
Liechtenstein has an operatic performance which would have taken half
the nobility from my audience, besides some of the chief members of the
orchestra. So I have postponed it, in a printed advertisement, to April 1.
He wrote two great concertos[53] and the quintet for piano and wind
instruments, which was enthusiastically applauded. "I myself," he adds,
"consider it the best thing I ever wrote in my life. I do wish you could
have heard it! And how beautifully it was performed! To tell the truth,
I grew tired of the mere playing towards the end, and it reflects no
small credit on me that my audience did not in any degree share the
fatigue."
In the following year Leopold Mozart visited his son in Vienna, and was
an eye-witness of his popularity. He
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writes to his daughter (January 22, 1785): "I have this moment received
a line from your brother, saying that his concerts begin on February 11,
and are to continue every Friday." He arranged to be in Vienna for this
concert, which was given on the Mehlgrube, with a subscription list of
over one hundred and fifty at three ducats each. He wrote to Marianne at
the conclusion of the concert (February 11, 1784): "Wolfgang played an
admirable new concerto, which was in the copyist's hands when we arrived
yesterday; your brother had not even time to try over the rondo. The
concerto is in D minor" (466 K., No. 8). The second concert, too, "was
splendid"; and at a benefit concert in the theatre for which Wolfgang
wrote the Concerto in C major (467 K., No. 1) he made 559 florins,
"which we had not expected, as the list for his subscription concerts
numbers one hundred and fifty persons, and he has often played at other
people's concerts for nothing," as L. Mozart writes (March 12, 1785).
He played at Madame Laschi's concert on February 12, 1785, a splendid
concerto which he had composed for the blind pianiste in Paris, Marie
Thérèse Paradies (1759-1824); this is probably the Concerto in B major
(456 K., No. 11) dated September 30, 1784. "When your brother made his
exit," writes the father, "the Emperor bowed to him, hat in hand, and
called: 'Bravo, Mozart!' He was very much applauded on his entrance."
During the Lent of 1786 Mozart had, as he wrote to his father (December
28,1785), three subscription concerts, with one hundred and twenty
subscribers; for these he wrote three new concertos. One in E flat major
(482 K., No. 6) on December 26, 1785, another in A major (488 K., No.
2) on March 2, 1786, and the third in C minor on March 24, 1786, the
andante of which he was obliged to repeat at the concert of April 7, the
last given in the theatre.[54] In Advent of the same year, as he informs
his father (December 8, 1786), he gave four concerts at the Casino,
for which he composed a new Concerto in C major (503 K., No. 16), dated
December 4, 1786; in January of the same year he
{PRIVATE CONCERTS.}
(289)
journeyed to Pragüe, where he was received with enthusiasm as the
composer of "Figaro." In obedience to the general desire, he played at a
great concert in the Opera-House, to a very crowded audience; Mozart was
recalled three times, and when at last he improvised variations on
"Non più andrai" there was no end to the applause; a second concert
was attended with eqally brilliant results. Madame Storace informed
L. Mozart, who wrote the news to his daughter (March 1, 1787), that
Wolfgang had made one thousand florins in Prague.
Even if it be granted that the honour and profit of these concerts
did not equal that which was accorded to celebrated vocalists of
the day,[55] yet it would be unjust to maintain that Mozart was not
appreciated by the public, and that they failed to express their
appreciation in hard cash. Any comparison with the unexampled success
attained by great performers of a later day ought not to leave out of
sight that the concert-visiting public has enormously increased since
that time, when this enjoyment was the exclusive privilege of the higher
ranks.
The growing interest for literature and art was then just beginning to
awaken in the citizen class some desire for participation in theatrical
performances and concerts; but still the concert public of that time
had very little resemblance to that which we now expect to find. The
difference shows itself in the private concerts. During the winter, and
particularly during Lent, musical performances were the chief means
of entertainment among the nobility and wealthy citizens. Amateur
theatricals were also very fashionable, and even operas were often given
in private.[56] An opera by Prince Liechtenstein has been mentioned
before (Vol. II., p. 287); Mozart's "Idomeneo" was given in 1786 at the
private theatre of Prince Auersperg, where in 1782 an Italian opera had
been given in honour of the Grand
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Duke;[57] Kelly had heard the Countéss Hatzfeld[58] sing Gluck's
"Alceste" there incomparably well.[59]
Noblemen of high rank often maintained their own musical establishments;
and though this did not often consist, as in the case of Prince
Esterhazy or the Prince von Hildburghausen,[60] of a complete orchestra,
yet the retinue of most of the nobility (especially in Bohemia) were
capable of taking part in orchestral music,[61] or there was at least a
band of wind instruments to play during meals or in serenades.[62] But
for the private performances of which we have just spoken a complete
orchestra was always employed,[63] which was an easier matter then than
it would be now that orchestras are so much more fully appointed. This
arrangement was of the greatest importance for the musical profession.
The frequent concerts gave opportunity for a large number of musicians
to educate themselves into good orchestral players, and the composers
found constant employment in every branch of their art. Patrons vied
with each other in the production of new works by distinguished masters,
and above all in the acquisition of celebrated performers. The expense
of musical soirées was very great, but custom made it a point of honour
among the aristocracy to patronise the art which then surpassed all
others in public estimation.
Mozart's popularity as a pianist would, as a matter of course, render
him much in request at these private concerts. As early as the winter of
1782 he was engaged for all the concerts given by Prince Gallitzin, the
Russian ambassador, who "placed his carriage at my disposal both going
and returning, and treated me in the handsomest
{PRIVATE CONCERTS--NOBLE PATRONS.}
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manner possible' (December 21,1782). During the following winter he
again played regularly for Prince Gallitzin, also for Count Johann
Esterhazy, Count Zichy, &c. He calculates for his father's benefit that,
from February 26 till April 3, he would have to play five times for
Gallitzin, and nine times for Esterhazy, to which might be added three
of Richter's concerts and five of his own, besides chance invitations.
"Have I not enough to do?" he asks. "I do not think I shall be allowed
to get out of practice." When his father was in Vienna in 1785, he wrote
to his daughter that Wolfgang's harpsichord had been to the theatre and
to different private houses quite twelve times between February 11 and
March 12.[64] What amount of fee Mozart received for his performances
in private we have no means of ascertaining; in general, however, the
aristocracy were accustomed to reward distinguished artists according
to their deserts, and the exceptional position of the Viennese nobility
enabled the artists to accept their liberality without loss of dignity;
the more so as it was usually founded on sentiments of esteem and
consideration. That the friendly demeanour of persons of high rank was
highly prized by the artists themselves, there can be no doubt; nor
would there be wanting some who sought to merit it by servile adulation.
From any tinge of this Mozart was absolutely free; not only was he
unfettered by the forms of social class distinctions, but he moved in
society with all the independence of a distinguished man, without
laying claim to the license usually accorded to artists of genius.
The etiquette of rank was no bar to his intimacy with Prince Karl
Lichnowsky; and another of his true friends was Count August Hatzfeld,
who had carefully cultivated a considerable musical talent, and was a
first-rate quartet violinist. He became so imbued with the spirit of
Mozart's quartets, that the latter was said to have declared that he
liked nobody's execution of them so well as Count
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Hatzfeld's.[65] The song in "Idomeneo" with obbligato violin was
composed for him. His noble character won for him universal esteem,
which was intensified by the calmness with which he met death in his
thirty-first year (Bonn, 1787). Mozart wrote to his father in a very
serious letter (April 4, 1787):--
On this subject (death and dying) I have already expressed my mind
to you on the occasion of the melancholy death of my best and dearest
friend, Count von Hatzfeld. He was thirty-one--just my age. I do not
mourn for _him_, but for myself and for all those who knew him as I did.
Mozart also gave regular musical performances every Sunday morning in
his own house; he used to invite his friends, and musical amateurs
were admitted on payment. Kelly relates[66] that he never missed one of
these. I find them mentioned elsewhere also, and have heard of them from
old people who took part in them during the last years of Mozart's life.
They were always well attended; but whether Mozart's public concerts
were continued with unabated success after the year 1788, or whether
the time had come when he was to experience "the fickleness" of the
Viennese, I have no means of determining with exactitude. He wrote three
symphonies in June, July, and August of 1788, whence it may be
concluded that he was giving concerts during that time; and, by the same
reasoning, the absence of any symphonies or concertos composed during
the years immediately following would prove that no concerts were then
given. His pecuniary embarrassments during those years tell the same
tale; and the cutting off of this important contribution to his income
seems to have occasioned his journeys to Berlin and Frankfort. Not until
January, 1791, do we meet with another pianoforte concerto in B flat
major (595 K., No. 15) that was no doubt intended for a Lenten concert.
The publication of his compositions, which in the present day would have
been Mozart's chief dependence, was by no means profitable, as matters
then stood. The music trade
{PUBLICATION OF COMPOSITIONS.}
(293)
of the day was small and insignificant; indeed, the first impulse was
given to it by the publication of an edition of all Mozart's works soon
after his death. During his life, however, compositions were more often
copied than printed;[67] and the composer was obliged to keep careful
watch lest copies should be distributed which were not ordered from him,
and which in consequence he was never paid for. It need scarcely be said
that caution such as this was not in Mozart's nature, and that copies of
his works were frequently made and sold without his knowledge. Different
musical firms (Joh. Traeg, Lausch, Torricella, &c.) advertised copies
of his compositions for sale under his very eyes; nor was this conduct,
however undesirable, thought unworthy of a respectable tradesmen. He
was careful only of his concertos; too much depended on his keeping
possession of them, and not allowing any one to play them who chose.
His three first concertos, indeed, he thought it advisable to publish
himself by a subscription of six ducats (December 23, 1782). He offered
them afterwards to the "highly respectable public" for four ducats,
"beautifully copied and revised by himself."[68] Even this his father
thought too dear; but Mozart thought that the concertos were worth the
money, and could not be copied for it.
When sending his father those composed in the following year, he wrote
(May 24, 1784): "I can wait patiently until you send them back, so
long as they do not fall into any one else's hands; I might have had
twenty-four ducats for one of them to-day; but I think it will be to my
advantage to keep them a couple of years by me, and then to have them
printed." He used to take only the orchestral parts with him on his
journeys, and to play himself from a clavier part of most extraordinary
appearance, according to Rochlitz.[69] It consisted of only the figured
bass and the principal
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motifs, with hints for the passages, runs, &c.; he depended on his
memory, which never by any chance failed him. In 1788 he advertised
copies of three quintets for four ducats.[70]
As far, then, as concertos and symphonies were concerned, the composer
made his principal profit by his own performance of them; but he was
also called upon to write different things for other people. Mozart
wrote many compositions for his pupils, an extraordinary number for
his friends and acquaintance, and not a few to order on particular
occasions. Among the latter class are the quartets written for Frederick
William II., in 1789 and 1790 (575, 589, 590, K.), for which he was
doubtless well paid; it was said that he received for the first a
valuable gold snuff-box and a hundred friedrichs-d'or.[71] It is well
known that one hundred ducats were paid in advance for the Requiem, and
something may have come in for the adaptation of Handel's oratorios,
ordered by Van Swieten in 1788 and 1789, as well as for here and there
a commission or dedication. But a closer examination of the long list of
Mozart's compositions of this class makes it probable that they were
not for the most part profitable to him. A characteristic anecdote is
related of him by his widow, which bears out this supposition.[72] At
one of Mozart's Sunday matinées there was present a Polish Count,
who was very much delighted with the new (composed March 30, 1784)
pianoforte quintet with wind instruments. He commissioned Mozart to
write a trio with obbligato flute, which the latter promised to do. As
soon as he arrived at home, the Count sent Mozart a hundred half-louis
with a very polite note, repeating his thanks for the pleasure the music
had given him. The terms of the note left Mozart no doubt that the money
was a generous gift, and he returned the politest acknowledgment, at the
same time sending the Count, contrary to his custom, the original score
of the quintet he had so much admired. A year after the Count came again
to Mozart and inquired after the trio. Mozart excused himself by saying
he had not yet found himself in the humour to
{PUBLICATION OF COMPOSITIONS.}
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write anything worthy of the Count's acceptance. "Then, no doubt,"
answered the Count, "you will find yourself still less in the humour
to return me the hundred half-louis which I paid you for it." Mozart
returned the money, but the Count kept the score of the quintet, which
was soon after printed in Vienna without Mozart's permission. Against
such persons and such behaviour Mozart had no weapons but a shrug of
the shoulders, and a--"The rascal!" It may well be supposed that others
besides this Polish Count took advantage of such easy-going good-nature.
But the publishers must not be credited with more than their share of
blame.[73] Variations and similar trifles were doubtless often printed
without the composer's consent, and brought in considerable profits
in which he had no share. But the more important of his works which
appeared during his lifetime were either printed by subscription or
trusted for publication to Torricella, Artaria, and Hoffmeister. I have
only in one case been able to discover the amount paid to him; he wrote
to his father, who communicated it to his daughter (January 22, 1785)
that he had sold his quartets dedicated to Jos. Haydn to Artaria for
one hundred ducats. This was a considerable sum for those days, and the
reception given to the quartets on their appearance might well cause the
publisher to fear he had paid too dear for them. It is said that the
two beautiful pianoforte quartets in G minor (478 K., composed in July,
1785) and in E flat major (493 K., composed in June, 1786), were only
the commencement of a series bespoken by Hoffmeister; but the public
finding them too difficult, and refraining from buying them, he allowed
Mozart to retain the money he had paid in advance, and gave up the
continuation.[74] The popularity gained by Mozart's greater works must
always have been of gradual growth, since they were considered in every
respect too difficult, and it is quite credible that Hoffmeister said,
as was reported of him:[75] "Write more popularly, or else I can neither
print nor pay for anything more of yours!"
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nor is it less credible that Mozart should have answered: "Then I will
write nothing more, and go hungry, or may the devil take me!"
A note written to Hoffmeister on November 20, 1785, is indeed in quite
another tone:[76]--
Dear Hoffmeister,--I have recourse to you, and beg you to assist me
with a little money, of which I am much in want at present. I earnestly
entreat you to send me what I require as soon as possible. Pardon my
troubling you so much, but you know me, and are aware how much I have
your affairs at heart, so that I am convinced that you will not be
offended at my importunities, but will be as ready to show yourself my
friend as I am yours.
A very enterprising publisher, Commerzienrath Hummel, of Berlin,
maintained that, though not musical, he could tell by the look of a
composition whether it would suit him. He had a poor opinion of Mozart,
and used to boast of having sent him back various works.[77]
Rochlitz relates, as an instance of Mozart's ill-treatment at the
hands of theatrical managers,[78] that Schikaneder paid nothing for
the "Zauberflöte," and even, contrary to the agreement, sold the score
without his knowledge. Seyfried,[79] on the other hand, maintains that
Schikaneder paid Mozart a hundred ducats, and resigned the net profits
of the sale of the score to his widow. Be this as it may, Schikaneder's
treatment of Mozart must not be considered illustrative of that which he
usually received from his managers. A hundred ducats was then the
usual payment in Vienna for an opera. This sum Mozart received for the
"Entführung," for "Figaro," and no doubt also for "Cosi fan Tutte."
For "Don Giovanni" he had 225 florins. To this were usually added the
proceeds of a benefit performance (and another for the poet), which
of course depended on the popularity of the composer with the public.
Mozart does not mention the benefit performance of the
{PROFITS ON OPERAS.}
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"Entführung"; but both in this case and that of "Figaro" it must have
had considerable results.[80] Bondini paid a hundred ducats for "Don
Giovanni." The Bohemian States, who ordered the "Clemenza di Tito"
for their coronation festival, can scarcely have offered him less
remuneration; even the manager Guardasoni, who was famous for his
parsimony, "almost agreed" in the year 1785 to give Mozart "two hundred
ducats for an opera and fifty ducats travelling expenses," as he informs
his wife--an agreement, however, which was never carried out.[81]
In this respect, therefore, Mozart was not behind contemporary
composers. With regard to performances on foreign stages, we have no
definite information as to whether his permission was asked or paid
for,[82] but we may gather something from the ordinary usages of the
time. It was the traditional custom in Italy that whoever ordered
the opera should pay for it; what became of the score afterwards was
generally left to chance. The impresario remained in possession of it,
and usually allowed the copyist to make what profit he could out of the
sale of it (Vol. I., p. 131); but the composer also kept the score, and
seems to have distributed it wherever he thought he might gain honour or
profit by it. In Germany the case was altered, since there the composer
had generally to do with a court theatre. In Mannheim and Munich he
retained undivided possession of the score (Vol. II., p. 141).[83]
Mozart rejoiced that Baron Riedesel had asked him for the "Entführung"
and not the copyist (Vol. II., p. 213). As a matter of course foreign
theatres took the easiest course open to them to obtain possession of
the score. When they applied to the composer it was only because they
saw no other way of getting it, or for some special reason. Any question
of
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the composer's rights or the theatrical manager's obligations seems
never to have occurred to either party. A careful hold of the score and
watchful supervision of the copyist were the only means of protection.
These did not go far, nor was Mozart the man to make use of them.
When, therefore, his operas appeared on foreign boards without any
compensation to himself, he only shared the fate of most of his
contemporaries, nor does he seem to have complained of it. He is glad
to write to his father (December 6, 1783) that his "Entführung" had been
well and successfully performed in Prague and Leipzig; and he rejoiced
again when "Figaro" was given in Prague and "Don Giovanni" in Vienna;
but there is no mention of payment.
If we summarise these financial remarks, we shall arrive at the
conclusion that in view of the importance of his works, and the profits
afterwards made on them both by the theatres and the publishers, Mozart
was very inadequately paid; but this standard cannot be unreservedly
applied to them. The conditions and fluctuations of profit to which
even artists are subject are ruled by the prevalent type of living among
citizens and the higher classes; the close-fisted organisation of a
community of merchants and traders cares little for the comet-like
course of an artistic genius, and is only too likely to give it an
altogether wrong direction or to ruin it at the outset. From a pecuniary
point of view we must acknowledge that Mozart was on the whole as well
treated as the majority of his fellow-artists; that both as a composer
and a performer he was sometimes no worse, sometimes better, paid than
others; that he had no lack of opportunities for earning money, and that
in point of fact he had a very good income. If Mozart had possessed the
same capacity for business as his father or Joseph Haydn, he would no
doubt have reaped far greater advantages from his position in Vienna;
but even on what he actually earned he might have lived in ease and
plenty. Without ourselves going into calculations on the subject, we
have a trustworthy witness for it in Leopold Mozart. During his visit to
Vienna, in 1785, he had a watchful eye on the earnings and expenditure
of his son, and wrote to his
{PECUNIARY EMBARRASSMENT.}
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daughter (March 19, 1785): "I believe that, _if he has no debts to
pay_, my son can now lay by two thousand florins; the money is certainly
there, and the household expenses, so far as eating and drinking are
concerned, could not be more economical." How far removed was Mozart
from such providence! From the time of his marriage we find him in
constantly recurring money difficulties; a long list of melancholy
documents lets us into the vexations, cares, and humiliations which were
the inevitable consequences of his improvidence. Scarcely six months
after their marriage the wedded couple were obliged to apply to the
Baroness von Waldstädten in the following note, in order to avert a
threatened action-at-law by one of their creditors:--
Most honoured Baroness,--I find myself in a fine position, truly! We
agreed with Herr von Tranner lately that we should have a fortnight's
grace. As this is customary with every merchant, unless he be the most
disobliging fellow in the world, I thought nothing more of it, and
hoped, if I could not pay the amount myself, at least to be able to
borrow it. Now Herr von Tranner sends me word that he positively refuses
to wait, and if I do not pay him between to-day and to-morrow he will
bring an action against me! I cannot pay him even the half of it. If I
had had any idea that the subscriptions for my concert would come in
so slowly, I would have fixed the payment for a later date. I pray your
ladyship, for Heaven's sake, to help me to preserve my honour and my
good name! My poor little wife is feeling poorly, and I cannot leave
her, or else I would come myself and beg this favour of you by word of
mouth..We kiss your ladyship's hand a thousand times, and beg to remain
your ladyship's obedient children,
February 15, 1783.
W. A. and C. Mozart.
In July of the same year, when he was setting out for Salzburg, and
actually in the act of entering his carriage, he was stopped by an
importunate creditor for the paltry claim of thirty florins, which,
nevertheless, he found it difficult to satisfy.[84] And not long after
his return to Vienna he was disagreeably surprised by a demand for
twelve louis-d'or, which he had borrowed at Strasburg in 1778. He was
obliged to write to his father:--
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You will remember that when you came to Munich, where I was writing the
great opera, you reproached me for having borrowed twelve louis-d'ors
from Herr Scherz, at Strasburg, with the words, "Your want of confidence
in me disappoints me--but enough; I suppose I shall have the honour of
paying the twelve louis-d'or." I travelled to Vienna, you to Salzburg.
What could I suppose from your words but that I need think no more of
the debt--or at least, that you would write to me if you did not pay it,
or speak about it when I saw you in Salzburg? I ask nothing further of
you, my dear father, than that you will be my security for a month. Had
he demanded payment during the first year I could have done it at once
and with pleasure; and I will pay him as it is, only I am not in a
position to do so at this moment.
In the very same year that his father boasts of his finances, we find
him in a difficulty which necessitated his applying to his publisher,
Hoffmeister, who put him off with a couple of ducats. But the saddest
insight into the embarrassed and humiliating position in which Mozart
found himself after the year 1788 is afforded by his letters to his
friend, Michael Puchberg, a wealthy merchant,[85] musical himself,
and with two daughters, one of whom distinguished herself as a
clavier-player. He was a Freemason, and it seems to have been through
the lodge that an intimacy was founded close enough to warrant Mozart's
constant application to him for assistance. His wish to borrow a sum
sufficiently large to be of permanent benefit to him, either from
Puchberg himself or by his instrumentality, was not granted. So that
when his rent became due, or his wife's doctor's bill, or a stay in
the country had to be provided for, he was constantly obliged to claim
assistance from his friend. Whenever it was possible Mozart strove to
meet his household embarrassments in a joking mood. In the winter of
1790 Joseph Deiner, the landlord of the "Silver Serpent," who was of use
to Mozart in many of his household affairs, called upon him one day
and found him in his workroom dancing about with his wife. On Deiner's
asking him if he was giving his wife dancing lessons, Mozart answered,
laughing, "We are
{PECUNIARY EMBARRASSMENT.}
(301)
warming ourselves, because we are very cold, and have no money to buy
fuel." Thereupon Deiner ran home and brought them some wood, which
Mozart accepted and promised to pay him for as soon as he made any
money.[86] But dancing will not satisfy every need, and the faithful
Puchberg was never weary of assisting Mozart. He sent him larger or
smaller sums, which Mozart was never in a position to repay, so that
after his death his liabilities amounted to one thousand florins.
Puchberg, who was of great service to Mozart's widow in the ordering of
her affairs, postponed his claims for several years, so as to give
her the opportunity of paying him by degrees, as her circumstances
improved.[87] Mozart had recourse to other friends besides Puchberg;
in April, 1789, he borrowed one hundred florins from an aspirant to
Freemasonry, named Hofdemel, as is testified by the existing letter and
note of hand.[88] It was not likely that assistance of this kind would
materially improve Mozart's position. In 1790, when he undertook the
journey to Frankfort, in the result of which he had placed great hopes,
he was obliged to raise his travelling expenses by pawning plate and
ornaments;[89] and the financial transaction of which he speaks in his
letters to his wife, whereby somebody was to hand him over one thousand
florins on Hoffmeister's endorsement, shows clearly enough that he had
fallen into the hands of usurers, from whom he had striven in vain to
free himself by Puchberg's intervention. These facts prove only too
clearly that from the time of his marriage Mozart became gradually
entangled in a net of embarrassments, without any hope of permanent
extrication. His letters show how deeply he felt the cares and
humiliations of his position. The circumstances of so public a character
could not remain long concealed in Vienna, even had he been less
injudiciously open than he was; after his death ill-natured gossip
exaggerated his debts to a sum of thirty thousand florins, and the
rumour reached the ear of the Emperor Leopold. The widow, informed of
this by a
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friend of high rank, explained the calumny to the Emperor, and assured
him that three thousand florins would cover all Mozart's debts.
The Emperor gave her generous assistance as soon as the facts and
extenuating circumstances had been made known to him,[90] but he refused
a pension.
The same charitable dispositions which settled the amount of Mozart's
debts were also busy in accounting for the fact of their existence. How
could they have been contracted but by dissipation, irregular living,
and extravagance?[91] Against such accusations we must listen to Mozart
himself, who would hardly have had the face to appeal to his manner of
life and well-known habits in applying for help to his intimate friend
Puchberg, if he had been conscious of such improprieties as those with
which he was charged. Leopold Mozart's testimony is unimpeachable as to
the economy of the housekeeping in the matter of eating and drinking,
and it was confirmed by Sophie Haibl. It may be thought that the father
purposely limits his praise of Wolfgang's economy to matters of eating
and drinking, and this is no doubt quite possible. Mozart was very neat
and particular in his dress, and fond of lace and watch-chains.[92]
Clementi
{EXTRAVAGANCE AND LOVE OF PLEASURE.}
(303)
took him for a valet-de-chambre on account of his elegant appearance,
and his handsome attire is referred to on various occasions. His father
writes mockingly to his daughter from Vienna (April 16, 1785) that
Wolfgang and Madame Lange had intended going with him to Munich, but
nothing was likely to come of it, "although each of them have had six
pairs of shoes made, which are all standing there now." It may well be
then that Mozart was not over-economical in his dress; at the same time
there is no reason to accuse him of extravagant foppery.
The excess of which Mozart was mainly accused, however, was not of this
kind at all, but lay more in the direction of sensual indulgence. He
had always been extremely fond of cheerful society and the manifold
distractions it brought with it; nay, it was quite a necessity to him,
as a refreshment after long-sustained mental efforts. Mozart gave
no parties at home, but his wife used to organise little musical
performances on family festivals or to amuse her husband; few friends
were present on such occasions, and Haydn's music was generally
preferred by Mozart himself.[93]
There can have been no lack of opportunities for intercourse with his
fellow-artists and with the numerous accomplished and wealthy amateurs
then in Vienna, and we can well imagine that Mozart's social impulses
found constant and lively exercise. Music was the principal object of
meeting, and Mozart brought his tribute to the entertainment in the
form of improvisation, both grave and gay; he was a lively and cheerful
companion, too, in other respects, always ready for a joke, and fond of
exercising his gift for improvising comic doggerel verses.[94]
Of all amusements, Mozart was fondest of dancing, and
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(304)
found ample opportunity for indulging his passion in Vienna, where
dancing was at that time an absolute rage.[95] His wife confided to
Kelly, who saw Mozart dance on the occasion of their first meeting,
that her husband was an enthusiastic dancer, and thought more of his
performances in that line than in music; he was said to dance the
minuet very beautifully.[96] His letters have many indications of this
partiality, and he gives his father a merry and complacent account of a
ball at his own house (January 22, 1783):--
Last week I gave a ball in my own house; but of course the gentlemen
paid two florins each. We began at six o'clock in the evening and left
off at seven. What! only one hour? No, no; seven o'clock in the morning!
You will scarcely believe that I could find room for it.
He had lately moved, and had taken apartments with Herr von Wezlar, a
rich Jew:--
There I have a room a thousand paces long, and a bedroom, then an
anteroom, and then a fine large kitchen; there are two fine large rooms
next to ours, which stand empty at present, and these I made use of for
the ball. Baron Wezlar and his wife were there, so were the Baroness
Waldstädten, Herr von Edelbach, Gilowsky the boaster, young Stephanie,
Adamberger and his wife, the Langes, &c.
Still more exciting entertainments were the masked balls; and we have
already seen (Vol. I.,p. 337) that Mozart possessed both inclination
and talent for disporting himself in assumed characters. He writes
from Vienna (January 22, 1788), begging his father to send him his
harlequin's dress, because he would like to go on the Redoute as
harlequin: "but so that nobody should know it; there are so many here
(chiefly great asses) who go on the Redoute." Several good friends
associated themselves into a "compagnie-masque," and performed a
pantomime on Whit Monday, which filled up the half-hour before dancing
began. Mozart was Harlequin, Madame Lange Columbine, Lange played
Pierrot, an old dancing-master named Merk, who "drilled" the company,
took Pantaloon, and the painter Grassi the Doctor.
The plot and music were by Mozart, the doggerel verses
{AMUSEMENTS--ILLNESS}
(305)
with which the pantomime was introduced by the actor Müller; it might
have been better, Mozart thought, but he was satisfied with the acting:
"I assure you we played very well," he informs his father (March
12,1783). Of the music for this pantomime thirteen numbers for stringed
instruments in parts are preserved, the first violin written by Mozart
(446 K.) It is, as may be imagined, very unpretending, as are also the
briefly indicated situations; for instance: "Columbine is sad--Pantaloon
makes love to her--she is angry--he is gay--she angry--he angry too."
Another passion of Mozart's was billiard-playing; Kelly relates that
he often played with Mozart, but never won a game.[97] He had a
billiard-table in his own house, and played with his wife in case of
need,[98] or even quite alone. This was certainly a luxury, though far
from an unusual one in Vienna at that time, and it was occasioned not
solely from love of the game,[99] but, as Holmes rightly remarks, from
the care of the physicians for Mozart's health.
In the spring of 1783 he was seized with cholera, which was raging as an
epidemic,[100] and in the following summer he was again seriously ill,
as Leopold Mozart informs his daughter (September 14, 1784):--
My son has been very ill in Vienna. He was very much overheated at
Paesiello's new opera, "Il Reteodoro," and was obliged to go into the
open air to look for the servant who had charge of his overcoat, because
orders had been given that no servants should be admitted to the theatre
by the ordinary entrance. This brought on rheumatic fever, which without
careful attention might have turned to typhus. Wolfgang writes: "I have
had raging colic every day for a fortnight at the same hour, accompanied
by violent vomiting. My doctor, Herr Sigmund Barisani, was in the habit
of visiting me almost daily even before this illness; he is very clever,
and you will see that he will soon make himself a name."
Barisani was the son of the Archbishop's physician at Salzburg, an
intimate friend of the Mozart family. He was of it!"
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distinguished in his profession, becoming later chief physician at the
general hospital, and a warm friend and admirer of Mozart. A charming
memorial of their friendship is preserved at the Mozarteum in Salzburg,
in the form of some affectionate verses addressed to Mozart by Barisani,
bearing date April 14, 1787. Underneath Mozart has written the following
lines:--
To-day, September 3 of this same year, I was so unfortunate as to
lose by death this noble-natured man, my dearest, best friend, and the
saviour of my life. It is well with him! but with me--us--and all who
knew him--it can never be well again, until we are so happy as to meet
him in another world _never to part again._
Barisani, seeing the impossibility of altogether weaning Mozart from the
habit of writing far into the night, and very often as he lay in bed in
the morning, endeavoured to avert the hurtful consequences in another
way. He recommended him not to sit so long at the clavier, but at all
events to compose standing, and to take as much bodily exercise as
he could.[101] His love of billiard-playing gave the doctor a welcome
pretext for turning this motive into a regular one; Mozart was equally
fond of bowls, and he was the more ready to follow the doctor's
directions with regard to both games since they did not interfere with
his intellectual activity. It happened one day in Prague that Mozart,
while he was playing billiards, hummed an air, and looked from time to
time into a book which he had with him; it appeared afterwards that he
had been occupied with the first quintet of the "Zauberflote."[102] When
he was writing down the score of "Don Giovanni" in Duschek's garden,
he took part at the same time in a game of quoits; he stood up when
his turn came round, and sat down again to his writing after he had
thrown.[103]
But what of Mozart's inclination for strong drink, so often talked of?
There can be no doubt that he was very fond of punch; Kelly speaks of
it,[104] and Sophie Haibl does not
{MOZART'S LOVE OF WINE.}
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disguise that her brother-in-law loved a "punscherl," but she also
asserts that he had never taken it immoderately, and that she had
never seen him intoxicated.[105] That he was capable of wild excess is
contradicted by his whole nature and by his conduct through life; but
these make it probable that he did not disdain the _poculum hilaritatis_
in cheerful society, and that he gave vent to his spirits in a manner
more unrestrained than it should have been.[106]
But Mozart also fortified himself with a glass of wine or punch when he
was in the throes of composition. In one of his apartments his immediate
neighbour was Joh. Mart. Loibl, who was musical and a Freemason,
consequently intimate with Mozart; he had a well-filled wine-cellar, of
the contents of which he was never sparing in entertaining his friends.
The partition wall between the houses was so thin, that Mozart had only
to knock when he wished to attract Loibl's attention; whenever Loibl
heard the clavier going and taps at his wall between the pauses, he used
to send his servant into the cellar, and say to his family, "Mozart
is composing again; I must send him some wine."[107] His wife made him
punch, too, when he was writing the overture to "Don Giovanni" the night
before its performance. Whoever casts a glance over Mozart's scores will
see that they could not have been written in the excitement caused by
wine, so neat and orderly are they even to the smallest details, and in
spite of the most rapid execution; and those who are in a position to
examine any one of his compositions will not need to be told that no
intellect overstrained and excited by artificial means could possibly
have produced such perfect clearness and beauty. Whether Mozart was
right in providing a bodily stimulus in the form of strong drink during
a continuous intellectual strain may well be doubted; experience and
opinions differ widely on this point. Goethe advised that there should
be no forcing an
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unproductive mood into activity by external means of any kind; but he
answered Eckermann's remark that a couple of glasses of wine were often
of great service in clearing the mental vision, and bringing difficult
subjects to a solution, as follows: "You know my Divan so well that you
will remember that I said myself--
Wenn man getrunken hat,
Weiss man das Rechte,
and that I entirely agree with you. There exist in wine inspiring forces
of a very important kind; but all depends upon circumstances and times
and places, and what is useful to one does harm to another."[108]
Let us now gather into one the separate traits which we have been
constrained to discuss, owing to the wide dissemination of those
injurious reports against which Niemetschek has already rightly
protested.
We have before us the picture of a cheerful, pleasure-loving man,
capable of such exertions of productive power and such intellectual
industry as have seldom been surpassed in the history of art, and
seeking his necessary recreation in social intercourse and the pleasures
of the senses to a degree which was equalled by the majority of his
contemporaries in Vienna without exciting any attention at all. He
was not by any means a thoughtless, dissipated spendthrift. But a
spendthrift he was, if the word be taken to signify one who fails to
control his wants and luxuries, so that they may be in proportion to
the actual state of his finances. His most dangerous qualities were a
good-natured soft-heartedness, and a spontaneous generosity. He gave, as
it were, involuntarily, from inner necessity. Rochlitz relates that he
not only gave free admissions to the chorus-singers at Leipzig, to which
they had no claim, but that he privately pressed a considerable present
into the hands of one of the bass singers who had specially pleased him.
When a poor old piano-tuner, stammering with embarrassment, begged for a
thaler, Mozart pressed a couple of ducats into his hand and
{MOZART'S THOUGHTLESS LIBERALITY.}
(309)
hurried from the room.[109] When he was in a position to give help, he
could not see any one in want without offering relief, even though
it entailed future difficulties on himself and his family; repeated
experiences made him no more prudent in this respect. That he was often
imposed upon there can be no doubt. Whoever came to him at meal-time was
his guest, all the more welcome if he could make or understand a joke,
and Mozart was happy if only his guests enjoyed their fare. Among
them were doubtless, as Sophie Haibl relates, "false friends, secret
blood-suckers, and worthless people, who served only to amuse him at
table, and intercourse with whom injured his reputation."[110] One of
the worst of this set was Albert Stadler, who may serve as an example
of the way in which Mozart was sometimes treated. He was an excellent
clarinet-player, and a Freemason; he was full of jokes and nonsense,
and contrived so to ingratiate himself with Mozart that the latter
constantly invited him to his house and composed many things for him.
Once, having learnt that Mozart had just received fifty ducats, he
represented himself as undone if he could not succeed in borrowing that
very sum. Mozart, who wanted the money himself, gave him two valuable
repeater watches to put in pawn upon condition that he should bring him
the tickets and redeem them in due time; as he did not do this, Mozart
gave him fifty ducats, besides the interest, in order not to lose his
watches. Stadler kept the money, and allowed the watches to remain at
the pawnbroker's. Nowise profiting by this experience, Mozart, on his
return from Frankfort, in
1790, commissioned Stadler to redeem from pawn a portion of the silver
plate which had been pledged for the expenses of the journey and
to renew the agreement for the remainder. In spite of a very strong
suspicion that Stadler had purloined this pawn-ticket from Mozart's open
cashbox, the latter was not deterred from assisting him in the following
year towards a professional tour, both with money and recommendations,
in Prague, and from presenting him with
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a concerto (622 K.), composed only a few months before Mozart's
death.[111]
No doubt all this shows culpable weakness on Mozart's part--weakness
incompatible with his duty to himself and his family. His household
burdens were increased by many misfortunes, especially by the repeated
and long-continued illnesses of his wife, necessitating an expensive
sojourn in Baden for many successive summers. Her delicacy doubtless
prevented such personal supervision of the household as was essential
to its economical management. She failed also to acquire such an
intellectual influence over her husband as to strengthen his capacity
for the proper conduct of his affairs, and she had not strength of mind
or energy to take the management of the household entirely into her own
hands. She felt the discomfort keenly, saw the causes of it, but could
not strive against them for any length of time. Without wishing to
reproach her, we may say at least that had Constanze been as good a
housekeeper as Mozart was a composer, things would have gone well with
him.
It must not be supposed that Mozart was blind to the advantages of good
household management or wanting in the will to effect it; from time
to time he made earnest endeavours after economic reform. In February,
1784, he began an exact catalogue of his compositions, in which he
carefully entered every one of his works, until a short time before his
death, with suggestions of the theme;[112] at the same time he began to
keep an account book of his income and expenditure. André observes as to
this account, which unhappily I have not been able to see, that Mozart
entered his receipts--which included the profits on some concerts,
on lessons to different persons of rank, and on a few of his
compositions--on a long piece of paper. His expenditure he noted in a
little quarto book, which he afterwards used
{MOZART'S ACCOUNT-KEEPING.}
(311)
for writing English exercises and translations. His entries, while they
lasted, were exact and minute. For instance, on one page we find:--
May 1, 1784. Two lilies of the valley... 1 kreutzer.
May 27, 1784. A starling.........34 kreutzers.
Then comes the following melody--[See Page Image]
with the remark, "Das war schön!" It is easy to discover what so
delighted him. On April 12 he had composed his pianoforte concerto in G
major (453 K.), and soon after played it in public. The subject of the
rondo is:--[See Page Image]
The pleasure he felt at hearing it piped so comically altered induced
him to buy the bird. He grew very much attached to his "Vogel Stahrl,"
as indeed he was to all animals, especially birds, and when it died he
erected a gravestone to its memory in his garden, with an epitaph in
verse.[113]
The excessive neatness of the account-books leads us to fear that they
were not persevered with for any very long time, and indeed it is almost
surprising that Mozart should have kept them for a whole year, from
March, 1784, to February, 1785. After that he handed them over to his
wife, and the entries soon cease.
Certainly Niemetschek is right in saying that "even if the same
indulgence be granted to Mozart that we must all wish to see extended
to ourselves, he cannot be put forward as an example of carefulness and
economy." Whoever, like Mozart, begins his housekeeping with nothing
at all, or even with debts, and is dependent upon an uncertain and
fluctuating income, has need of the strictest economy and regularity,
amounting even to parsimony, if he is to extricate himself from his
difficulties or attain to competence; otherwise occasional strokes of
good fortune are seldom of use--indeed are sometimes positive
hindrances." Regularity and economy were, as we have seen, qualities not
in Mozart's nature, and he never acquired them. Their absence
sufficiently accounts for his constant financial embarrassments. He
atoned for his errors and weakness by poverty and want, by sorrow and
care, by shame and humiliation; he was spared none of the punishment
which life ruthlessly inflicts on those who do not conform to the laws
of her iron necessity. But death has wiped out the stain, and the
misrepresentations of envious detractors and petty fault-finders have no
power to touch that which is immortal.
FOOTNOTES OF CHAPTER 27
[Footnote 1: Cf. Friedel, Briefe aus Wien (1784), p. 409.]
[Footnote 2: Mozart himself wrote this to his father, who communicates it to
Marianne (September 17, 1785).]
[Footnote 3: Kelly, Reminisc., I., p. 225.]
[Footnote 4: A. M. z., I., p. 855.]
[Footnote 5: I cannot undertake to give anything like a comprehensive description
of Mozart's wife, although I have received many communications from
trustworthy persons who have known her personally. Their knowledge is
of her later years only, and their accounts are often inconsistent. This
inconsistency arises from the conflict in the widow's mind between pride
in the fame of the husband, of whose greatness she was fully aware only
after his death, and a painful remembrance of the hardships of their
married life. These hardships she was inclined to ascribe solely to his
want of capacity for practical affairs, and an injured feeling was often
mingled with her unbounded pride in Mozart's artistic achievements and
her belief in his love for her. The peculiarities of her second husband,
Nissen, a business man, painfully accurate and precise, tended no
doubt to intensify the contrast. Nissen's was an honourable, although a
commonplace nature, and he had earned Constanze's gratitude by his care
for her in her widowed and destitute condition, and by placing her in
a good worldly position as his wife; so that it is not surprising
that Mozart's memory should have passed into the background, with the
exception of his musical fame, which Nissen could not rival. At any
rate, we find Constanze continually posing as the patient martyr,
suffering from the thoughtlessness of a man of genius, who remained a
child to the end of his days. This is unjust to Mozart, but it would
be equally unjust to Constanze to make her mainly responsible for the
family difficulties.]
[Footnote 6: Jahrb. d. Tonkunst. (1796), p. 43.]
[Footnote 7: Nissen, p. 689.]
[Footnote 8: Shlichtegrolls Nekrolog. Cf. Zelter, Briefw. mit Goethe, VI., p. 61.]
[Footnote 9: Niemetschek, p. 97. Nissen, p. 686.]
[Footnote 10: A. M. Z., I., p. 291. Nissen, p. 687.]
[Footnote 11: This letter was made use of by Nissen. I obtained it from Köchel.]
[Footnote 12: A. M. Z., I., p. 291. Nissen, p. 687.]
[Footnote 13: "On this point I have accepted the verbal testimony of trustworthy
Salzburg friends, confirmed by Niemetschek, p. 98 (Nissen, p. 690).]
[Footnote 14: Forster, Sämmtl. Schr., VII., p. 268. The French traveller [K.
Risbeck] says a great deal about the dissoluteness of the Viennese. "All
the great towns are alike in this respect. The courts are more or less
corrupt, and the nobility universally so; those who can do as they like
abuse their privileges, and act unworthily. But it is not always fair
to consider freedom of manner as a sign of licentiousness, as those who
live in small towns are apt to do. If a pretty girl permits a kiss on
her hand, or even her lips--if, when she loves a man, she is not ashamed
to say so--these are not deadly sins, and the shame rests with those who
take advantage of her openness."]
[Footnote 15: From a MS. biographical notice of Hummel, by M. J. Seidel,
communicated by Preller.]
[Footnote 16: The length to which the calumny went is shown by Suard (Mél. de
Litt., II., p. 339): "J'ai entendu dire qu'il n'avait fait Ja 'Flute
Enchantée' que pour plaire ä une femme de théätre dont il était devenu
amoureux, et qui avait mis ses faveurs ä ce prix. On ajoute que son
triomphe eut des suites bien cruelles, et qu'il en contracta une maladie
incurable dont il mourut peu de temps après. Ce fait me parait peu
vraisemblable: la 'Flûte Enchantée' n'est pas le dernier de ses opéras,
et lorsqu'il l'a composée sa santé était déjä fort altérée."]
[Footnote 17: Salieri was recommended by Gluck as a composer for the Grand-Opéra
in Paris, in 1784, when he had himself refused to undertake the
composition of "Les Danaides" (Mosel, Salieri, p. 77).]
[Footnote 18: A book of exercises and letters in English was used by Mozart as an
account book in 1784 (André, Vorr. zu Mozart's Themat.-Catalog., p. 3).]
[Footnote 19: Hamburg. Litt. u. Krit. Blätt, 1856, No. 72, p. 563.]
[Footnote 20: Kelly, Reminisc., I., p. 277. L. Mozart gives his daughter a long
account of the English visitors who were invited to a State concert by
the Archbishop, and very well received.]
[Footnote 21: A Viennese correspondent of January 25, 1787, says (Cramer's
Musik. Magaz., II., p. 1273): "Mozart left Vienna some weeks ago on a
professional tour to Prague, Berlin, and, it is even said, to London. I
hope that it will be productive both of pleasure and profit to him."
And Leopold Mozart wrote to his daughter (January 12, 1787): "The report
that your brother intends going to England is confirmed from Vienna,
Prague, and Munich."]
[Footnote 22: Niemetschek, p. 44. Rochlitz's account, founded on information from
Mozart's widow (A. M. Z., I., p. 22), is confirmed by Nissen (p. 535).]
[Footnote 23: A. M. Z., I., p. 291.]
[Footnote 24: Rochlitz expressly states that the King repeated this conversation
to various persons, among others to Mozart's widow, during her stay in
Berlin, in February, 1796.]
[Footnote 25: Mosel, Salieri, p. 132.]
[Footnote 26: The story that after his return from Prague (September, 1791),
as Nie-metschek has it (p. 36), or on his death-bed,as it is usually
embellished, Mozart received his appointment as actual kapellmeister,
with all its emoluments, is evidently unfounded. In the widow's
petition for a pension (in the Mozarteum at Salzburg) only "the expected
appointment to the post of cathedral kapellmeister" is mentioned, and
in a magistrate's order of December 12,1791 (in the collection of Al.
Fuchs), "Joh. Georg. Albrechtsberger, imperial court organist, appointed
to the post of assistant kapellmeister at the metropolitan church of St.
Stephan, as successor to the late Herr Mozart." Hoffman died in 1792,
and then Albrechtsberger succeeded him.]
[Footnote 27: Caroline Pichler, Denkwürd, I., p. 180.]
[Footnote 28: K. R[isbeck], Briefe, I., p. 292. G. Forster, Sämmtl. Schr., VII.,
p. 268. Meyer, L. Schroder, I., p. 360, Schink, Dramaturg. Monate, II.,
p. 542.]
[Footnote 29: Niemetschek, p. 92. According to a letter of Nissen's to Härtel
(November 27, 1799), they were in the possession of Gelinek, and are
apparently lost. Journ. d. Lux. u. d. Mod., 1808, II., p. 802.]
[Footnote 30: Prutz, Deutsch. Museum, II., p. 27. Frank was well known as a
"great musician." Briefw. Carl Augusts mit Goethe, I., p. 302.]
[Footnote 31: L. Mozart wrote to his daughter from Vienna (March 12, 1785):
"He has had a great _fortepiano pedal_ made, which stands under the
harpsichord, three spans long, and fearfully heavy."]
[Footnote 32: Allgem. Wiener Mus. Ztg., 1842, p. 489. Seidel, Handschr. Notiz.]
[Footnote 33: Holmes tells the story on trustworthy family authority (p. 258).]
[Footnote 34: Allgem. Wien. Mus. Ztg., 1842, p. 489.]
[Footnote 35: Holmes, p. 259. Cf. Fétis, Curios. Hist, de la Mus., p. 212.]
[Footnote 36: Stadler (Vertheidig. der Echtheit des Req., p. 13) says: "When I
turn over these leaves, I never fail to remember the great master, and
rejoice in observing his manner of working."]
[Footnote 37: Zelter, Briefw. mit Goethe, V., p. 85. In the Wiener Zeitung, 1796,
p. 1038, Jos. Haydenreich advertises for sale at a price of 4 fl. 30
kr., "Ein noch unbekanntes geschriebenes Fundament zur erlernung des
Generalbasses von Mozart."]
[Footnote 38: It has been published several times in Vienna by Steiner & Co. with
the title of "Kurzgefasste Generalbass-schule von W. A. Mozart,'' and
as "Fundament des Generalbasses von W. A. Mozart," by J. G. Siegmeyer
(Berlin, 1822).]
[Footnote 39: Holmes, p. 316.]
[Footnote 40: Kelly, Reminisc., I., p. 228.]
[Footnote 41: Nicolai, Reise, IV., p. 552. C. Pichler, Denkw., I., p. 127.]
[Footnote 42: Nicolai (Reise, IV., p. 552) dilates upon the announcement of these
great amateur concerts, and especially upon paragraph 6, which runs:
"Card-tables will be placed in the ante-rooms, and money for play
provided at discretion; the company will also be provided with every
kind of refreshment." He asserts that this was not so at the private
concerts of true connoisseurs, at which he had been present.]
[Footnote 43: Wien. Ztg., 1782, No. 44. K. R[isbeck], Briefe, I., p. 276. "The
entertainments I most enjoyed during the nights of last summer, were
the so-called 'lemonade-tents.' Great tents were erected on one of the
largest open spaces in the city, and there lemonade was dispensed at
night; several hundred seats were occupied by ladies and gentlemen. A
band of music was placed at a little distance, and the perfect silence
which was maintained by the numerous assembly had an indescribable
effect. The charming music, the solemn silence, the confidential mood
engendered by the night, all combined to give the scene a peculiar
charm" (Jahrb. d. Tenk., 1796, p. 78).]
[Footnote 44: Hormayr, Wien., V., I., pp. 41, 50.]
[Footnote 45: Nicolai, Reise., III., p. 12.]
[Footnote 46: Franz Türke is mentioned later as a distinguished amateur (Jahrb.
d. Tonk., 1796, p. 63).]
[Footnote 47: In 1791, Martin, "directeur des concerts d'amateurs," announced his
great concerts in the Imperial Augarten in the Prater, and at court,
in a somewhat doleful manner (Wien. Ztg., 1791, No. 45 Anh.). They were
afterwards continued under the conductorship of the vice-president, Von
Keess (Jahr. d. Tonk., 1796, p. 74. A. M. Z., III., p. 46).]
[Footnote 48: Cramer, Magazin d. Musik, I., p. 578: "A concert was given this
after-noon in the National Theatre for the benefit of the celebrated
Herr Chevalier Mozart, the performance including several pieces of his
own composition. The concert was attended by a very numerous audience,
and the two new concertos and various fantasias, which Herr Mozart
performed on the pianoforte, were received with loud and general
applause. Our gracious Emperor, contrary to custom, remained through
the whole performance, and joined in the unprecedented applause of the
public. The receipts are said to amount to 1,600 florins."]
[Footnote 49: Wien. Ztg., 1784, No. 28, Anh.]
[Footnote 50: Nicolai, Reise, II., p. 636.]
[Footnote 51: This imposing list includes not only the names of Mozart's avowed
patrons, Countess Thun, Baroness Waldstädten, Count Zichy, Van Swieten,
but also of the Duke of Würtemburg, the Prince of Mecklenburg, the
Princes C. Liechtenstein, Augsperg, Kaunitz, Lichnowsky, Lobkowitz,
Paar, Palm, Schwarzenberg, and the famous names of Bathiany,
Dietrichstein, Erdödy, Esterhazy, Harrach, Herberstein, Keglewicz,
Nostiz, Palfy, Schaffgotsch, Stahremberg, Waldstein; besides the
Ambassadors of Russia, Spain, Sardinia, Holland, Denmark, the great
bankers, Fries, Henikstein, Arenfeld, Bienenfeld, Ployer, Wetzlar, high
officers of state and scholars, such as Isdenczy, Bedekovich, Nevery,
Braun, Greiner, Keess, Puffendorf, Bom, Martini, Sonnenfels--in very
truth the most distinguished society of Vienna.]
[Footnote 52: Kelly, Reminisc., I., p. 231. Pohl, Mozart in London, p. 169.]
[Footnote 53: At the same time Mozart wrote the two concertos for Barb, von
Ployer (Vol.II., p. 279), a concerto in Bflat major (No. 4., 450 K.)on
March 15, aconcerto in D major (No. 13., 451 K.) on March 22, and the
quintet (452 K.) on March 30.]
[Footnote 54: Wien. Ztg., 1786, No. 28, Anh.]
[Footnote 55: Storace and Coltellini had a salary of 1,000 ducats, besides free
quarters and travelling expenses; and to this was added the profit
accruing from benefits, concerts, and other sources. Marchesi received
600 ducats and a valuable ring for six performances (Müller, Abschied,
p. 8).]
[Footnote 56: Theaterkal., 1787, p. 95. C. Pichler, Denkw., I., p. 124.]
[Footnote 57: Wien. Ztg., 1782, No. 82.]
[Footnote 58: Jahrb. Tonk., 1796, p. 25.]
[Footnote 59: Kelly, Reminisc., I., p. 201. A performance of "Axur" is mentioned
(Jahrb. f. Tonk., 1796, p. 38). According to the Thematic Catalogue,
Mozart wrote a concluding chorus "fur Dilettanti," to Sarti's opera, "Le
Gelosie Vil-lane," on April 20, 1791.]
[Footnote 60: Dittersdorf, Selbstbiogr., pp. 7, 49.]
[Footnote 61: Gyrowetz, Selbstbiogr., p. 8.]
[Footnote 62: Cf. pp. 307, 627.]
[Footnote 63: C. Pichler, Denkw., I., p. 45.]
[Footnote 64: Mozart's concert harpsichord is now in the Mozarteum at Salzburg,
a little instrument by Anton Welter, in a walnut-wood case with black
naturals and white flats and sharps. It has five octaves, is light in
touch, and tolerably powerful in tone.]
[Footnote 65: Cramer's Mag. d. Musik, II., p. 1380.]
[Footnote 66: Kelly, Reminisc., I., p. 226.]
[Footnote 67: Mozart's printed composition only extended during his lifetime to
Op. 18 (Klavierconcert, 451 K., No. 13), without counting variations and
songs.]
[Footnote 68: Wien. Zeit., 1783, No. 5, Anh. These three concertos in A major
(414 K., No 10), F major (413 K., No. 12), and C major (414 K., No. 5),
were then printed in Vienna as Ouvre IV.]
[Footnote 69: A. M. Z., I., p. 113.]
[Footnote 70: Wien. Ztg., 1788, No. 27, Anh.]
[Footnote 71: N. Berl. Musikzeitg., 1856, p. 35.]
[Footnote 72: A. M. Z., I., p. 289.]
[Footnote 73: Rochlitz's account (A. M. Z., IM p. 83) does not tally.]
[Footnote 74: Cf. Nissen, p. 633.]
[Footnote 75: Rochlitz, A. M. Z., XV., p. 313. Für Freunde der Tonkunst, I., p.
148.]
[Footnote 76: Endorsed by Hoffmeister: "Den 20 Nov., 1785, mit 2 Duka ten."
N.Ztschr. Mus., IX., p. 164.]
[Footnote 77: A. M. Z., I., p. 547.]
[Footnote 78: A. M. Z., I., p. 83; cf. p. 147. Nissen, p. 548.]
[Footnote 79: Neue Zeitschr. Mus., XII., p. 180.]
[Footnote 80: Dittersdorf says that the profits from his benefit performance
of the "Doktor and Apotheker" amounted to 200 ducats (Selbstbiogr., p.
243).]
[Footnote 81: Rochlitz's account is confused and uncertain. (Für Freunde d.
Tonk., II., p. 258., II).]
[Footnote 82: He expected a gift from the Prussian Ambassador; whether he
received it, or what it was, is not known.]
[Footnote 83: Count Seeau must have sold for his own profit the pieces which were
only purchased for representation; Schroder and Beecké complain of this
in unpublished letters to Dalberg.]
[Footnote 84: Nissen, p. 475.]
[Footnote 85: He was called a "Niederlagsverwandter," that is, he belonged to the
privileged society of merchants, for the most part Protestants, who had
the right, subject to certain restrictions, of keeping warehouses and
trading wholesale (Nicolai, Reise, IV., p. 447).]
[Footnote 86: Wiener Morgenpost, 1856, No. 28.]
[Footnote 87: Nissen, p. 686.]
[Footnote 88: O. Jahn, Aufs. üb. Musik., p. 234.]
[Footnote 89: Nissen, p. 683.]
[Footnote 90: Niemetschek, p. 57. Nissen, p. 580.]
[Footnote 91: How far Mozart was misjudged in this respect is shown by such
expressions as those in Schlichtegroirs Nekrolog: "In Vienna he married
Constanze Weber, who made a good mother to his two children and a
careful wife, striving to restrain his folly and extravagance. His
income was considerable, but his excesses and want of economy in
household affairs caused him to leave nothing to his family but the fame
of his genius and the observation of the world." It is not surprising
that Mozart's widow should have bought up a whole impression of this
notice in 1794. Rochlitz warmly condemns such shameless calumny. Arnold
is much coarser (Mozart's Geist, p. 65), accounting for his premature
death by saying: "Besides this [excessive work] he was a husband,
brought up two children, and had many intrigues with lively actresses
and other women, which his wife good-naturedly overlooked. He must often
have starved with his wife and children, if the threats of impatient
creditors had been carried into effect. But when a few louis-d'or made
their appearance the scene changed at once. All went merrily, Mozart
got tipsy on champagne and tokay, spent freely, and in a few days was as
badly off as ever. The liberties he took with his health are well known;
how he used to drink champagne with Schikaneder all morning, and punch
all night, and go to work again after midnight, without any thought of
his bodily health."]
[Footnote 92: Nissen, p. 692.]
[Footnote 93: Niemetschek, p. 99.]
[Footnote 94: Niemetschek, p. 93. Mozart was very accessible to the pleasures of
society and friendship. "Among his friends he was as open as a child,
and full of merriment, which found vent in the drollest tricks. His
friends in Prague have a pleasant remembrance of the hours passed in his
company, and are never weary of praising his good, innocent heart; when
he was present, one forgot the artist in the man" (Cf. Rochlitz, A. M.
Z., III., p. 494). His brother-in-law, Jos. Lange, remarked that Mozart
was generally in most jesting mood when he was busy with some great work
(Selbstbiogr., p. 171).]
[Footnote 95: Kelly, Reminisc., I., p. 204.]
[Footnote 96: Kelly, Reminisc., I., p. 226. Nissen, p. 692.]
[Footnote 97: Kelly, Reminisc., I., p. 226.]
[Footnote 98: Niemetschek, p. 100.]
[Footnote 99: Nicolai, Reise, V., p. 219.]
[Footnote 100: He wrote to his father (June 7, 1783): "God be praised, I am quite
well again, only my illness has left a cold in the head behind as a
remembrance--very good. ]
[Footnote 101: Giesinger, Biogr. Not. üb. J. Haydn, p. 30.]
[Footnote 102: Nissen, p. 559.]
[Footnote 103: Bohemia, 1856, pp. 118, 122.]
[Footnote 104: Kelly, Reminisc., I., p. 226.]
[Footnote 105: Nissen, p. 672.]
[Footnote 106: Rochlitz suggests that Mozart sought forgetfulness of anxious
thoughts in wine (A. M. Z., III., p. 495).]
[Footnote 107: Frau Klein, of Vienna, Loibl's daughter, related this and many
other characteristic traits from her childish remembrances to my friend
Karajan.]
[Footnote 108: Eckermann, Gespräche mit Goethe, III., p. 234, &c., especially p.
239.]
[Footnote 109: a. M. z., I., p. 81.]
[Footnote 110: Nissen, p. 673.]
[Footnote 111: Nissen, p. 683.]
[Footnote 112: This document, invaluable for the history of Mozart's
compositions, leaving no doubt as to important points from the year 1784
onwards, has been published by André under the title, "W. A. Mozart's
thematischer Catalog" (Offenbach, 1805, 1828). It is my authority for
all assertions as to the date of his works, except where otherwise
specified.]
[Footnote 113: Niemetschek, p. 91.