Books: The Letters of Wolfgang Amadeus Mozart, V.1.

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I write this in the house of Madame d'Epinay and M. Grimm, with
whom I now live; I have a pretty little room with a very
agreeable prospect, and am as happy as it is possible to be under
my present circumstances. It will be a great aid in restoring my
tranquillity, to hear that my dear father and sister submit with
calmness and fortitude to the will of God, and trust Him with
their whole heart, in the entire belief that He orders all for
the best. My dearest father, do not give way! My dearest sister,
be firm! You do not as yet know your brother's kind heart,
because he has not yet had an opportunity to prove it. Remember,
my loved ones both, that you have a son and a brother anxious to
devote all his powers to make you happy, knowing well that the
day must come when you will not be hostile to his wish and his
desire,--not certainly such as to be any discredit to him,--and
that you will do all that lies in your power to make him happy.
Oh! then we shall all live together as peacefully, honorably, and
contentedly as it is possible to do in this world, and at last in
God's good time all meet again above--the purpose for which we
were destined and created.

I received your last letter of the 29th, and see with pleasure
that you are both, thank God! in good health. I could not help
laughing heartily at Haydn's tipsy fit. Had I been there, I
certainly should have whispered in his ear "Adlgasser!" It is
really disgraceful in so clever a man to render himself incapable
by his own folly of performing his duties at a festival
instituted in honor of God; when the Archbishop too and his whole
court were present, and the church full of people, it was quite
abominable.[Footnote: The father had written, "Haydn (organist of
the church of the Holy Trinity) played the organ in the afternoon
at the Litany, and the Te Deum laudamus, but in such a dreadful
manner that we were quite startled, and thought he was about to
undergo the fate of the deceased Adlgasser [who was seized with
paralysis when playing the organ] It turned out, however, that he
was only rather intoxicated, so his head and hands did not
agree"] This is one of my chief reasons for detesting Salzburg--
those coarse, slovenly, dissipated court musicians, with whom no
honest man of good breeding could possibly live! instead of being
glad to associate with them, he must feel ashamed of them. It is
probably from this very cause that musicians are neither loved
nor respected with us. If the orchestra were only organised like
that at Mannheim! I wish you could see the subordination that
prevails there--the authority Cannabich exercises; where all is
done in earnest. Cannabich, who is the best director I ever saw,
is both beloved and feared by his subordinates, who, as well as
himself, are respected by the whole town. But certainly they
behave very differently, have good manners, are well dressed (and
do not go to public-houses to get drunk). This can never be the
case in Salzburg, unless the Prince will place confidence either
in you or me and give us full powers, which are indispensable to
a conductor of music; otherwise it is all in vain. In Salzburg
every one is master--so no one is master. If I were to undertake
it, I should insist on exercising entire authority. The Grand
Chamberlain must have nothing to say as to musical matters, or on
any point relating to music. Not every person in authority can
become a Capellmeister, but a Capellmeister must become a person
of authority.

By the by, the Elector is again in Mannheim. Madame Cannabich and
also her husband correspond with me. If what I fear were to come
to pass, and it would be a sad pity if it did,--namely, that the
orchestra were to be much diminished,--I still cherish one hope.
You know that there is nothing I desire more than a good
appointment,--good in reputation, and good in money,--no matter
where, provided it be in a Catholic country. You fenced skilfully
indeed with Count Stahremberg [FOOTNOTE: A prebendary of
Salzburg, to whom the father had "opened his heart," and told him
all that had occurred in Salzburg. Wolfgang's reinstatement in
his situation was being negotiated at the time.] throughout the
whole affair; only continue as you have begun, and do not allow
yourself to be deluded; more especially be on your guard if by
any chance you enter into conversation with that silly goose---;
[FOOTNOTE: He probably alludes to the Archbishop's sister,
Countess Franziska von Walles, who did the honors of her
brother's court, and who, no doubt, also interfered in this
matter.] I know her, and believe me, though she may have sugar
and honey on her lips, she has gall and wormwood in her head and
in her heart. It is quite natural that the whole affair should
still be in an unsettled state, and many things must be conceded
before I could accept the offer; and even if every point were
favorably adjusted, I would rather be anywhere than at Salzburg.
But I need not concern myself on the matter, for it is not likely
that all I ask should be granted, as I ask a great deal. Still it
is not impossible; and if all were rightly organized, I would no
longer hesitate, but solely for the happiness of being with you.
If the Salzburgers wish to have me, they must comply with my
wishes, or they shall never get me.

So the Prelate of Baumburg has died the usual prelatical death;
but I had not heard that the Prelate of the Holy Cross [in
Augsburg] was also dead. I grieve to hear it, for he was a good,
honest, upright man. So you had no faith in Deacon Zeschinger
[see No. 68] being made prelate? I give you my honor I never
conjectured anything else; indeed, I do not know who else could
have got it; and what better prelate could we have for music?

My friend Raaff leaves this to-morrow; he goes by Brussels to
Aix-la-Chapelle and Spa, and thence to Mannheim, when he is to
give me immediate notice of his arrival, for we mean to
correspond. He sends numerous greetings to you and to my sister.
You write that you have heard nothing for a very long time of my
pupil in composition; very true, but what can I say about her?
She will never be a composer; all labor is vain with her, for she
is not only vastly stupid, but also vastly lazy.

I had previously answered you about the opera. As to Noverre's
ballet, I only wrote that he might perhaps arrange a new one. He
wanted about one half to complete it, and this I set to music.
That is, six pieces are written by others, consisting entirely of
old trumpery French airs; the symphony and contre-danses, and
about twelve more pieces, are contributed by me. This ballet has
already been given four times with great applause. I am now
positively determined to write nothing more without previously
knowing what I am to get for it: but this was only a friendly act
towards Noverre. Herr Wendling left this last May. If I were to
see Baron Bach, I must have very good eyes, for he is not here
but in London. Is it possible that I did not tell you this? You
shall find that, in future, I will answer all your letters
minutely. It is said that Baron Bach will soon return here; I
should be glad of that for many reasons, especially because at
his house there will be always opportunity to try things over in
good earnest. Capellmeister Bach will also soon be here; I
believe he is writing an opera. The French are, and always will
be, downright donkeys; they can do nothing themselves, so they
must have recourse to foreigners. I talked to Piccini at the
Concert Spirituel; he is always most polite to me and I to him
when we do by chance meet. Otherwise I do not seek much
acquaintance, either with him or any of the other composers; they
understand their work and I mine, and that is enough. I already
wrote to you of the extraordinary success my symphony had in the
Concert Spirituel. If I receive a commission to write an opera, I
shall have annoyance enough, but this I shall not much mind,
being pretty well accustomed to it--if only that confounded
French language were not so detestable for music! It is, indeed,
too provoking; even German is divine in comparison. And then the
singers--but they do not deserve the name, for they do not sing,
but scream and bawl with all their might through their noses and
throats. I am to compose a French oratorio for the ensuing Lent,
to be given at the Concert Spirituel. M. Le Gros (the director)
is amazingly well-disposed towards me. You must know that (though
I used to see him every day) I have not been near him since
Easter; I felt so indignant at his not having my symphony
performed. I was often in the same house visiting Raaff, and thus
passed his rooms constantly. His servants often saw me, when I
always sent him my compliments. It is really a pity he did not
give the symphony--it would have been a good hit; and now he has
no longer the opportunity to do so, for how seldom are four such
performers to be found together! One day, when I went to call on
Raaff, I was told that he was out, but would soon be home; so I
waited. M. Le Gros came into the room and said, "It is really
quite a marvel to have the pleasure of seeing you once more."
"Yes; I have a great deal to do." "I hope you will stay and dine
with us to-day?" "I regret that I cannot, being already engaged."
"M. Mozart, we really must soon spend a day together." "It will
give me much pleasure." A long pause; at length, "A propos, are
you disposed to write a grand symphony for me for Corpus Christi
day?" "Why not?" "May I then rely on this?" "Oh, yes! if I may,
with equal confidence, rely on its being performed, and that it
will not fare like the sinfonie concertante." This opened the
flood-gates; he excused himself in the best way he could, but did
not find much to say. In short, the symphony [Kochel, No. 297]
was highly approved of; and Le Gros is so satisfied with it that
he says it is his very best symphony. The andante, however, has
not the good fortune to please him; he declares that it has too
many modulations, and is too long. He derives this opinion from
the audience forgetting to clap their hands as loudly, and to be
as vociferous, as at the end of the first and last movements. But
this andante is a great favorite WITH MYSELF, as well as with all
connoisseurs, amateurs, and the greater part of those who heard
it. It is the exact reverse of what Le Gros says, for it is both
simple and short. But in order to satisfy him (and no doubt some
others) I have written a fresh one. Each good in its own way--
each having a different character. The last pleases me the best.
The first good opportunity I have, I will send you this sinfonie
concertante, and also the "School for the Violin," some pieces
for the piano, and Vogler's book ("Ton Wissenschaft und Kunst"),
and then I hope to have your opinion of them. On August 15th,
Ascension Day, my sinfonie, with the new andante, is to be
performed for the second time. The sinfonie is in Re, the
andante in Sol, for here one must not say in D or in G. Le Gros is
now all for me.

Take comfort and pray without ceasing; this is the only resource
we have. I hope you will cause a holy mass to be said in Maria
Plain and in Loretto. I have done so here. As for the letter to
Herr Bahr, I don't think it is necessary to send it to me; I am
not as yet acquainted with him; I only know that he plays the
clarionet well, but is in other respects no desirable companion,
and I do not willingly associate with such people; no credit is
derived from them, and I really should feel positively ashamed to
give him a letter recommending me to him--even if he could be of
service to me; but it so happens that he is by no means in good
repute here. Many do not know him at all. Of the two Staunitz,
the junior only is here [Mannheim composer]. The elder of the two
(the veritable Hafeneder composer) is in London. They are
wretched scribblers, gamblers, and drunkards, and not the kind of
people for me. The one now here has scarcely a coat to his back.
By the by, if Brunetti should ever be dismissed, I would be glad
to recommend a friend of mine to the Archbishop as first violin;
he is a most worthy man, and very steady. I think he is about
forty years of age, and a widower; his name is Rothfischer. He is
Concertmeister at Kirchheim-Boland, with the Princess of Nassau-
Weilberg [see No. 91]. Entre nous, he is dissatisfied, for he is
no favorite with his Prince--that is, his music is not. He urged
me to forward his interests, and it would cause me real pleasure
to be of use to him, for never was there such a kind man.

109.

Paris, July 18, 1778.

I HOPE you got my last two letters. Let us allude no more to
their chief purport. All is over; and were we to write whole
pages on the subject, we could not alter the fact.

The principal object of this letter is to congratulate my dear
sister on her name-day. I think I wrote to you that M. Raaff had
left this, but that he is my very true and most particular
friend, and I can entirely depend on his regard. I could not
possibly write to you, because I did not myself know that he had
so much affection for me. Now, to write a story properly, one
ought to begin from the beginning. I ought to tell you, first,
that Raaff lodged with M. Le Gros. It just occurs to me that you
already know this; but what am I to do? It is written, and I
can't begin the letter again, so I proceed. When he arrived, we
happened to be at dinner. This, too, has nothing to do with the
matter; it is only to let you know that people do dine in Paris,
as elsewhere. When I went home I found a letter for me from Herr
Weber, and the bearer of it was Raaff. If I wished to deserve the
name of a historian, I ought here to insert the contents of this
letter; and I can with truth say that I am very reluctant to
decline giving them. But I must not be too prolix; to be concise
is a fine thing, which you can see by my letter. The third day I
found him at home and thanked him; it is always advisable to be
polite. I no longer remember what we talked about. An historian
must be unusually dull who cannot forthwith supply some
falsehood--I mean some romance. Well! we spoke of the fine
weather; and when we had said our say, we were silent, and I went
away. Some days after--though what day it was I really forget,
but one day in the week assuredly--I had just seated myself, at
the piano of course; and Ritter, the worthy Holzbeisser, was
sitting beside me. Now, what is to be deduced from that? A great
deal. Raaff had never heard me at Mannheim except at a concert,
where the noise and uproar was so great that nothing could be
heard; and HE had such a miserable piano that I could not have
done myself any justice on it. Here, however, the instrument was
good, and I saw Raaff sitting opposite me with a speculative air;
so, as you may imagine, I played some preludes in the Fischietti
method, and also played a florid sonata in the style and with the
fire, spirit, and precision of Haydn, and then a fugue with all
the skill of Lipp, Silber, and Aman. [Footnote: Fischietti was
Capellmeister in Salzburg; Michael Haydn and Lipp, organists.] My
fugue-playing has everywhere gained me the greatest applause.
When I had quite finished, (Raaff all the time calling out Bravo!
while his countenance showed his true and sincere delight,) I
entered into conversation with Ritter, and among other things
said that I by no means liked being here; adding, "The chief
cause of this is music; besides, I can find no resources here, no
amusement, no agreeable or sociable intercourse with any one,--
especially with ladies, many of whom are disreputable, and those
who are not so are deficient in good breeding." Ritter could not
deny that I was right. Raaff at last said, smiling, "I can quite
believe it, for M. Mozart is not WHOLLY here to admire the
Parisian beauties; one half of him is elsewhere--where I have
just come from." This of course gave rise to much laughing and
joking; but Raaff presently said, in a serious tone, "You are
quite right, and I cannot blame you; she deserves it, for she is
a sweet, pretty, good girl, well educated, and a superior person
with considerable talent." This gave me an excellent opportunity
strongly to recommend my beloved Madlle. Weber to him; but there
was no occasion for me to say much, as he was already quite
fascinated by her. He promised me, as soon as he returned to
Mannheim, to give her lessons, and to interest himself in her
favor. I ought, by rights, to insert something here, but I must
first finish the history of our friendship; if there is still
room, I may do so. He was in my eyes only an every-day
acquaintance, and no more; but I often sat with him in his room,
so by degrees I began to place more confidence in him, and at
last told him all my Mannheim history,--how I had been bamboozled
and made a fool of, adding that perhaps I might still get an
appointment there. He neither said yes nor no; and on every
occasion when I alluded to it he seemed each time more
indifferent and less interested in the matter. At last, however,
I thought I remarked more complacency in his manner, and he
often, indeed, began to speak of the affair himself. I introduced
him to Herr Grimm and to Madame d'Epinay. On one occasion he came
to me and said that he and I were to dine with Count Sickingen
some day soon; adding, "The Count and I were conversing together,
and I said to him, 'A propos, has your Excellency heard our
Mozart?' 'No; but I should like very much both to see and to hear
him, for they write me most astonishing things about him from
Mannheim.' 'When your Excellency does hear him, you will see that
what has been written to you is rather too little than too much.'
'Is it possible?' 'Beyond all doubt, your Excellency.'" Now, this
was the first time that I had any reason to think Raaff
interested in me. Then it went on increasing, and one day I asked
him to come home with me; and after that he often came of his own
accord, and at length every day. The day after he left this, a
good-looking man called on me in the forenoon with a picture, and
said, "Monsieur, je viens de la part de ce Monsieur," showing me
a portrait of Raaff, and an admirable likeness. Presently he
began to speak German; and it turned out that he was a painter of
the Elector's, whom Raaff had often mentioned to me, but always
forgot to take me to see him. I believe you know him, for it must
be the very person Madame Urspringer, of Mayence, alludes to in
her letter, because he says he often met us at the Urspringers'.
His name is Kymli. He is a most kind, amiable man, well-
principled, honorable, and a good Christian; one proof of which
is the friendship between him and Raaff. Now comes the best
evidence of Raaff's regard for me, and the sincere interest he
takes in my welfare: it is, that he imparts his intentions rather
to those whom he can trust than to those more immediately
concerned, being unwilling to promise without the certainty of a
happy result. This is what Kymli told me. Raaff asked him to call
on me and to show me his portrait, to see me often, and to assist
me in every way, and to establish an intimate friendship with me.
It seems he went to him every morning, and repeatedly said to
Kymli, "I was at Herr Mozart's again yesterday evening; he is,
indeed, a wonderful little fellow; he is an out-and-outer, and no
mistake!" and was always praising me. He told Kymli everything,
and the whole Mannheim story--in short, all. The fact is, that
high-principled, religious, and well-conducted people always like
each other. Kymli says I may rest assured that I am in good
hands. "Raaff will certainly do all he can for you, and he is a
prudent man who will set to work cleverly; he will not say that
it is your wish, but rather your due. He is on the best footing
with the Oberststallmeister. Rely on it, he will not be beat;
only you must let him go his own way to work." One thing more.
Father Martini's letter to Raaff, praising me, must have been
lost. Raaff had, some time since, a letter from him, but not a
word about me in it. Possibly it is still lying in Mannheim; but
this is unlikely, as I know that, during his stay in Paris, all
his letters have been regularly forwarded to him. As the Elector
justly entertains a very high opinion of the Padre Maestro, I
think it would be a good thing if you would be so kind as to
apply to him to write again about me to Raaff; it might be of
use, and good Father Martini would not hesitate to do a friendly
thing twice over for me, knowing that he might thus make my
fortune. He no doubt would express the letter in such a manner
that it could be shown, if need be, to the Elector. Now enough as
to this; my wish for a favorable issue is chiefly that I may soon
have the happiness of embracing my dear father and sister. Oh!
how joyously and happily we shall live together! I pray fervently
to God to grant me this favor; a new leaf will at last be turned,
please God! In the fond hope that the day will come, and the
sooner the better, when we shall all be happy, I mean, in God's
name, to persevere in my life here, though so totally opposed to
my genius, inclinations, knowledge, and sympathies. Believe me,
this is but too true,--I write you only the simple truth. If I
were to attempt to give you all my reasons, I might write my
fingers off and do no good. For here I am, and I must do all that
is in my power. God grant that I may not thus impair my talents;
but I hope it will not continue long enough for that. God grant
it! By the by, the other day an ecclesiastic called on me. He is
the leader of the choir at St. Peter's, in Salzburg, and knows
you very well; his name is Zendorff; perhaps you may not remember
him? He gives lessons here on the piano--in Paris. N. B., have
not you a horror of the very name of Paris? I strongly recommend
him as organist to the Archbishop; he says he would be satisfied
with three hundred florins. Now farewell! Be careful of your
health, and strive to be cheerful. Remember that possibly you may
ere long have the satisfaction of tossing off a good glass of
Rhenish wine with your son--your truly happy son. Adieu!

20th.--Pray forgive my being so late in sending you my
congratulations, but I wished to present my sister with a little
prelude. The mode of playing it I leave to her own feeling. This
is not the kind of prelude to pass from one key to another, but
merely a capriccio to try over a piano. My sonatas [Kochel, Nos.
301-306] are soon to be published. No one as yet would agree to
give me what I asked for them, so I have been obliged at last to
give in, and to let them go for 15 louis-d'or. It is the best way
too to make my name known here. As soon as they appear I will
send them to you by some good opportunity (and as economically as
possible) along with your "School for the Violin," Vogler's book,
Hullmandel's sonatas, Schroter's concertos, some of my pianoforte
sonatas, the sinfonie concertante, two quartets for the flute,
and a concerto for harp and flute [Kochel, No. 298, 299].

Pray, what do you hear about the war? For three days I was very
depressed and sorrowful; it is, after all, nothing to me, but I
am so sensitive that I feel quickly interested in any matter. I
heard that the Emperor had been defeated. At first it was
reported that the King of Prussia had surprised the Emperor, or
rather the troops commanded by Archduke Maximilian; that two
thousand had fallen on the Austrian side, but fortunately the
Emperor had come to his assistance with forty thousand men, but
was forced to retreat. Secondly, it was said that the King had
attacked the Emperor himself, and entirely surrounded him, and
that if General Laudon had not come to his relief with eighteen
hundred cuirassiers, he would have been taken prisoner; that
sixteen hundred cuirassiers had been killed, and Laudon himself
shot dead. I have not, however, seen this in any newspaper, but
to-day I was told that the Emperor had invaded Saxony with forty
thousand troops. Whether the news be true I know not. This is a
fine griffonage, to be sure! but I have not patience to write
prettily; if you can only read it, it will do well enough. A
propos, I saw in the papers that, in a skirmish between the
Saxons and Croats, a Saxon captain of grenadiers named Hopfgarten
had lost his life, and was much lamented. Can this be the kind,
worthy Baron Hopfgarten whom we knew at Paris with Herr von Bose?
I should grieve if it were, but I would rather he died this
glorious death than have sacrificed his life, as too many young
men do here, to dissipation and vice. You know this already, but
it is now worse than ever.

N. B. I hope you will be able to decipher the end of the prelude;
you need not be very particular about the time; it is the kind of
thing that may be played as you feel inclined. I should like to
inflict twenty-five stripes on the sorry Vatel's shoulders for
not having married Katherl. Nothing is more shameful, in my
opinion, than to make a fool of an honest girl, and to play her
false eventually; but I hope this may not be the case. If I were
her father, I would soon put a stop to the affair.

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