Books: The Letters of Wolfgang Amadeus Mozart, V.1.
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Wolfgang Amadeus Mozart >> The Letters of Wolfgang Amadeus Mozart, V.1.
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At ten o'clock I went to court to call on Countess Salern. I
dined afterwards with the Brancas. Herr Geheimrath von Branca,
having been invited by the French Ambassador, was not at home. He
is called "your Excellency." Countess Salern is a Frenchwoman,
and scarcely knows a word of German; so I have always been in the
habit of talking French to her. I do so quite boldly, and she
says that I don't speak at all badly, and that I have the good
habit of speaking slowly, which makes me more easily understood.
She is a most excellent person, and very well-bred. The daughter
plays nicely, but fails in time. I thought this arose from want
of ear on her part, but I find I can blame no one but her
teacher, who is too indulgent and too easily satisfied. I
practised with her to-day, and I could pledge myself that if she
were to learn from me for a couple of months, she would play both
well and accurately.
At four o'clock I went to Frau von Tosson's, where I found mamma
and also Frau von Hepp. I played there till eight o'clock, and
after that we went home; and at half-past nine a small band of
music arrived, consisting of five persons--two clarionet-players,
two horns, and one bassoon. Herr Albert (whose name-day is to-
morrow) arranged this music in honor of me and himself. They
played rather well together, and were the same people whom we
hear during dinner at Albert's, but it is well known that they
are trained by Fiala. They played some of his pieces, and I must
say they are very pretty: he has some excellent ideas. To-morrow
we are to have a small musical party together, where I am to
play. (Nota bene, on that miserable piano! oh, dear! oh, dear!
oh, dear!) I beg you will excuse my horrid writing, but ink,
haste, sleep, and dreams are all against me. I am now and forever
amen, your dutiful son,
A. W. MOZART.
63.
Munich, Oct. 6, 1777.
Mamma cannot write; in the first place, she is not inclined, and,
secondly, she has a headache. So I must hold the pen for her and
keep faith with her. I am just going with the Professor to call
on Madlle. Keiserin. Yesterday we had in our house a clerical
wedding, or altum tempus ecclesiasticum. There was dancing, but I
only danced four minuets, and was in my own room again by eleven
o'clock, for, out of fifty young ladies, there was only one who
danced in time--Madlle. Kaser, a sister of Count Perusa's
secretary. The Professor thought fit to leave me in the lurch, so
I did not go to Madlle. Keiserin, because I don't know where she
lives. Last Saturday, the 4th, on the stately and solemn occasion
of the name-day of his Royal Highness the Archduke Albert, we had
a select music-party at home, which commenced at half-past three
o'clock and finished at eight. M. Dubreil, whom papa no doubt
remembers, was also present; he is a pupil of Tartini's. In the
forenoon he gave a lesson on the violin to the youngest son,
Carl, and I chanced to come in at the time, I never gave him
credit for much talent, but I saw that he took great pains in
giving his lesson; and when we entered into conversation about
violin, concert, and orchestral playing, he reasoned very well,
and was always of my opinion, so I retracted my former sentiments
with regard to him, and was persuaded that I should find him play
well in time, and a correct violinist in the orchestra. I,
therefore, invited him to be so kind as to attend our little
music rehearsal that afternoon. We played, first of all, the two
quintets of Haydn, but to my dismay I could scarcely hear
Dubreil, who could not play four continuous bars without a
mistake. He could never find the positions, and he was no good
friend to the sospirs [short pauses]. The only good thing was
that he spoke politely and praised the quintets; otherwise--As it
was, I said nothing to him, but he kept constantly saying
himself, "I beg your pardon, but really I am out again! the thing
is puzzling, but fine!" I invariably replied, "It does not in the
least signify; we are only among ourselves." I then played the
concertos in C, in B, and in E flat, and after that a trio of
mine. This was finely accompanied, truly! In the adagio I was
obliged to play six bars of his part. As a finale, I played my
last divertimento in B; they all pricked up their ears. I played
as if I had been the greatest violin-player in all Europe.
The Sunday after, at three o'clock, we were at a certain Herr von
Hamm's. The Bishop of Chiemsee set off to-day for Salzburg. N.
B.--I send my sister, by him, "6 duetti a clavicembalo e
violino," by Schuster. I have often played them here; they are by
no means bad. If I remain long enough, I intend to compose six in
this style, for it is much liked here.
64.
Munich, Oct. 11, 1777.
WHY have I not as yet written anything about Misliweczeck? [See
No. 43.] Because I was only too glad not to think of him; for
when he is spoken of I invariably hear how highly he praises me,
and what a kind and true friend he is of mine; but then follow
pity and lamentation. He was described to me, and deeply was I
distressed. How could I bear that Misliweczeck, my intimate
friend, should be in the same town, nay, even in the same
corner of the world with me, and neither see him nor speak to
him? Impossible! so I resolved to go to visit him. On the
previous day, I called on the manager of the Duke's Hospital to
ask if I might see my friend in the garden, which I thought best,
though the doctors assured me there was no longer any risk of
infection. The manager agreed to my proposal, and said I should
find him in the garden between eleven and twelve o'clock, and, if
he was not there when I came, to send for him. Next day I went
with Herr von Hamm, secretary in the Crown Office, (of whom I
shall speak presently,) and mamma to the Duke's Hospital. Mamma
went into the Hospital church, and we into the garden.
Misliweczeck was not there, so we sent him a message. I saw him
coming across, and knew him at once from his manner of walking. I
must tell you that he had already sent me his remembrances by
Herr Heller, a violoncello-player, and begged me to visit him
before I left Munich. When he came up to me, we shook hands
cordially. "You see," said he, "how unfortunate I am." These
words and his appearance, which papa is already aware of from
description, so went to my heart that I could only say, with
tears in my eyes, "I pity you from my heart, my dear friend." He
saw how deeply I was affected, so rejoined quite cheerfully, "Now
tell me what you are doing; when I heard that you were in Munich,
I could scarcely believe it; how could Mozart be here and not
long ago have come to see me?" "I hope you will forgive me, but I
had such a number of visits to make, and I have so many kind
friends here." "I feel quite sure that you have indeed many kind
friends, but a truer friend than myself you cannot have." He
asked me whether papa had told me anything of a letter he had
received. I said, "Yes, he did write to me," (I was quite
confused, and trembled so much in every limb that I could
scarcely speak,) "but he gave me no details." He then told me
that Signor Gaetano Santoro, the Neapolitan impresario, was
obliged, owing to impegni and protezione, to give the composition
of the opera for this Carnival to a certain Maestro Valentini;
but he added, "Next year he has three at liberty, one of which is
to be at my service. But as I have already composed six times for
Naples, I don't in the least mind undertaking the less promising
one, and making over to you the best libretto, viz. the one for
the Carnival. God knows whether I shall be able to travel by that
time, but if not, I shall send back the scrittura. The company
for next year is good, being all people whom I have recommended.
You must know that I have such influence in Naples that, when I
say engage such a one, they do so at once." Marquesi is the primo
uomo, whom he, and indeed all Munich too, praises very highly;
Marchiani is a good prima donna; and there is a tenor, whose name
I cannot recall, but Misliweczeck says he is the best in all
Italy. He also said, "I do beg of you to go to Italy; there one
is esteemed and highly prized." And in truth he is right. When I
come to reflect on the subject, in no country have I received
such honors, or been so esteemed, as in Italy, and nothing
contributes more to a man's fame than to have written Italian
operas, and especially for Naples. He said he would write a
letter for me to Santoro, which I was to copy out when I went to
see him next day; but finding it impossible to return, he sent me
a sketch of the letter to-day. I was told that when Misliweczeck
heard people here speaking of Becke, or other performers on the
piano, he invariably said, "Let no one deceive himself; none can
play like Mozart; in Italy, where the greatest masters are, they
speak of no one but Mozart; when his name is mentioned, not a
word is said of others." I can now write the letter to Naples
when I please; but, indeed, the sooner the better. I should,
however, first like to have the opinion of that highly discreet
Hofcapellmeister, Herr von Mozart. I have the most ardent desire
to write another opera. The distance is certainly great, but the
period is still a long way off when I am to write this opera, and
there may be many changes before then. I think I might at all
events undertake it. If, in the mean time, I get no situation,
eh, bien! I shall then have a resource in Italy. I am at all
events certain to receive 100 ducats in the Carnival; and when I
have once written for Naples I shall be sought for everywhere. As
papa well knows, there is an opera buffa in Naples in spring,
summer, and autumn, for which I might write for the sake of
practice, not to be quite idle. It is true that there is not much
to be got by this, but still there is something, and it would be
the means of gaining more honor and reputation than by giving a
hundred concerts in Germany, and I am far happier when I have
something to compose, which is my chief delight and passion; and
if I get a situation anywhere, or have hopes of one, the
scrittura would be a great recommendation to me, and excite a
sensation, and cause me to be more thought of. This is mere talk,
but still I say what is in my heart. If papa gives me any good
grounds to show that I am wrong, then I will give it up, though,
I own, reluctantly. Even when I hear an opera discussed, or am in
a theatre myself and hear voices, oh! I really am beside myself!
To-morrow, mamma and I are to meet Misliweczeck in the Hospital
garden to take leave of him; for he wished me last time to fetch
mamma out of church, as he said he should like to see the mother
of so great a virtuoso. My dear papa, do write to him as often as
you have time to do so; you cannot confer a greater pleasure on
him, for the man is quite forsaken. Sometimes he sees no one for
a whole week, and he said to me, "I do assure you it does seem so
strange to me to see so few people; in Italy I had company every
day." He looks thin, of course, but is still full of fire and
life and genius, and the same kind, animated person he always
was. People talk much of his oratorio of "Abraham and Isaac,"
which he produced here. He has just completed (with the exception
of a few arias) a Cantata, or Serenata, for Lent; and when he was
at the worst he wrote an opera for Padua. Herr Heller is just
come from him. When I wrote to him yesterday I sent him the
Serenata that I wrote in Salzburg: for the Archduke Maximilian
["Il Re Pastore"].
Now to turn to something else. Yesterday I went with mamma
immediately after dinner to take coffee with the two Fraulein von
Freysinger. Mamma, however, took none, but drank two bottles of
Tyrolese wine. At three o'clock she went home again to make
preparations for our journey. I, however, went with the two
ladies to Herr von Hamm's, whose three young ladies each played a
concerto, and I one of Aichner's prima vista, and then went on
extemporizing. The teacher of these little simpletons, the
Demoiselles Hamm, is a certain clerical gentleman of the name of
Schreier. He is a good organ-player, but no pianist. He kept
staring at me with an eye-glass. He is a reserved kind of man who
does not talk much; he patted me on the shoulder, sighed, and
said, "Yes--you are--you understand--yes--it is true--you are an
out-and-outer!" By the by, can you recall the name of Freysingen
--the papa of the two pretty girls I mentioned? He says he knows
you well, and that he studied with you. He particularly remembers
Messenbrunn, where papa (this was quite new to me) played most
incomparably on the organ. He said, "It was quite startling to
see the pace at which both hands and feet went, but quite
inimitable; a thorough master indeed; my father thought a great
deal of him; and how he humbugged the priests about entering the
Church! You are just what he was then, as like as possible; only
he was a degree shorter when I knew him." A propos, a certain
Hofrath Effeln sends you his kind regards; he is one of the best
Hofraths here, and would long ago have been made chancellor but
for one defect--TIPPLING. When we saw him for the first time at
Albert's, both mamma and I thought, "What an odd-looking fish!"
Just imagine a very tall man, stout and corpulent, and a
ridiculous face. When he crosses the room to another table, he
folds both hands on his stomach, stoops very low, and then draws
himself up again, and makes little nods; and when this is over he
draws back his right foot, and does this to each individual
separately. He says that he knows papa intimately. I am now going
for a little to the play. Next time I will write more fully, but
I can't possibly go on to-day, for my fingers do ache uncommonly.
Munich, October 11th, at 1/4 to 12 at night, I write as
follows:--I have been at the Drittl comedy, but only went in time
for the ballet, or rather the pantomime, which I had not before
seen. It is called "Das von der fur
Girigaricanarimanarischaribari verfertigte Ei." It was very good
and funny. We are going to-morrow to Augsburg on account of
Prince Taxis not being at Ratisbon but at Teschingen. He is, in
fact, at present at his country-seat, which is, however, only an
hour from Teschingen. I send my sister, with this, four preludes;
she will see and hear for herself the different keys into which
they lead. My compliments to all my kind friends, particularly to
young Count Arco, to Madlle. Sallerl, and to my best of all
friends, Herr Bullinger; I do beg that next Sunday at the usual
eleven-o'clock music he will be so good as to make an
authoritative oration in my name, and present my regards to all
the members of the orchestra and exhort them to industry, that I
may not one day be accused of being a humbug, for I have
everywhere extolled their orchestra, and I intend always to do
so.
65.
Augsburg, Oct. 14, 1777.
I HAVE made no mistake in my date, for I write before dinner, and
I think that next Friday, the day after to-morrow, we shall be
off again. Pray hear how generous the gentlemen of Augsburg are.
In no place was I ever so overwhelmed with marks of distinction
as here. My first visit was to the Stadtpfleger Longo Tabarro
[Burgomaster Langenmantl]. My cousin, [Footnote: Leopold Mozart
had a brother in Augsburg, a bookbinder, whose daughter, "das
Basle" (the cousin), was two years younger than Mozart.] a good,
kind, honest man and worthy citizen, went with me, and had the
honor to wait in the hall like a footman till my interview with
the high and mighty Stadtpfleger was over. I did not fail first
of all to present papa's respectful compliments. He deigned
graciously to remember you, and said, "And pray how have things
gone with him?" "Vastly well, God be praised!" I instantly
rejoined, "and I hope things have also gone well with you?" He
then became more civil, and addressed me in the third person, so
I called him "Sir"; though, indeed, I had done so from the first.
He gave me no peace till I went up with him to see his son-in-law
(on the second floor), my cousin meanwhile having the pleasure of
waiting in the staircase-hall. I was obliged to control myself
with all my might, or I must have given some polite hint about
this. On going upstairs I had the satisfaction of playing for
nearly three-quarters of an hour on a good clavichord of Stein's,
in the presence of the stuck-up young son, and his prim
condescending wife, and the simple old lady. I first
extemporized, and then played all the music he had, prima, vista,
and among others some very pretty pieces of Edlmann's. Nothing
could be more polite than they all were, and I was equally so,
for my rule is to behave to people just as they behave to me; I
find this to be the best plan. I said that I meant to go to
Stein's after dinner, so the young man offered to take me there
himself. I thanked him for his kindness, and promised to return
at two o'clock. I did so, and we went together in company with
his brother-in-law, who looks a genuine student. Although I had
begged that my name should not be mentioned, Herr von Langenmantl
was so incautious as to say, with a simper, to Herr Stein, "I
have the honor to present to you a virtuoso on the piano." I
instantly protested against this, saying that I was only an
indifferent pupil of Herr Sigl in Munich, who had charged me with
a thousand compliments to him. Stein shook his head dubiously,
and at length said, "Surely I have the honor of seeing M.
Mozart?" "Oh, no," said I; "my name is Trazom, and I have a
letter for you." He took the letter and was about to break the
seal instantly, but I gave him no time for that, saying, "What is
the use of reading the letter just now? Pray open the door of
your saloon at once, for I am so very anxious to see your
pianofortes." "With all my heart," said he, "just as you please;
but for all that I believe I am not mistaken." He opened the
door, and I ran straight up to one of the three pianos that stood
in the room. I began to play, and he scarcely gave himself time
to glance at the letter, so anxious was he to ascertain the
truth; so he only read the signature. "Oh!" cried he, embracing
me, and crossing himself and making all sorts of grimaces from
intense delight. I will write to you another day about his
pianos. He then took me to a coffee-house, but when we went in I
really thought I must bolt, there was such a stench of tobacco-
smoke, but for all that I was obliged to bear it for a good hour.
I submitted to it all with a good grace, though I could have
fancied that I was in Turkey. He made a great fuss to me about a
certain Graf, a composer (of flute concertos only); and said, "He
is something quite extraordinary," and every other possible
exaggeration. I became first hot and then cold from nervousness.
This Graf is a brother of the two who are in Harz and Zurich. He
would not give up his intention, but took me straight to him--a
dignified gentleman indeed; he wore a dressing-gown that I would
not be ashamed to wear in the street. All his words are on
stilts, and he has a habit of opening his mouth before knowing
what he is going to say; so he often shuts it again without
having said anything. After a great deal of ceremony he produced
a concerto for two flutes; I was to play first violin. The
concerto is confused, not natural, too abrupt in its modulations,
and devoid of all genius. When it was over I praised it highly,
for, indeed, he deserves this. The poor man must have had labor
and study enough to write it. At last they brought a clavichord
of Stein's out of the next room, a very good one, but inch-thick
with dust. Herr Graf, who is director here, stood there looking
like a man who had hitherto believed his own modulations to be
something very clever, but all at once discovers that others may
be still more so, and without grating on the ear. In a word, they
all seemed lost in astonishment.
66.
Augsburg, Oct. 17, 1777.
WITH regard to the daughter of Hamm, the Secretary of War, I can
only say that there can be no doubt she has a decided talent for
music, for she has only learned three years, and can play a
number of pieces very well. I find it difficult, however, to
explain distinctly the impression she makes on me while she is
playing; she seems to me so curiously constrained, and she has
such an odd way of stalking over the keys with her long bony
fingers! To be sure, she has had no really good master, and if
she remains in Munich she will never become what her father
wishes and hopes, for he is eager beyond measure that she should
one day be a distinguished pianiste. If she goes to papa at
Salzburg, it will be a twofold benefit to her, both as to music
and common sense, of which she certainly has no great share. She
has often made me laugh very much, and you would have amusement
enough for your trouble. She is too absent to think of eating
much. You say I ought to have practised with her? I really could
not for laughing, for when I occasionally played something with
the right hand, she instantly said bravissimo, and that in the
voice of a little mouse.
I will now relate to you as briefly as possible the Augsburg
history to which I have already alluded. Herr von Fingerle, who
sent his compliments to you, was also at Herr Graf's. The people
were very civil, and discussed the concert I proposed to give,
all saying, "It will be one of the most brilliant concerts ever
given in Augsburg. You have a great advantage in having made the
acquaintance of our Stadtpfleger Langenmantl; besides, the name
of Mozart has much influence here." So we separated mutually
pleased. I must now tell you that Herr von Langenmantl, junior,
when at Herr Stein's, said that he would pledge himself to
arrange a concert in the Stube, [Footnote: The Bauernstube, the
Patrician Casino.] (as something very select, and complimentary
to me,) for the nobility alone. You can't think with what zeal he
spoke, and promised to undertake it. We agreed that I should call
on him the next morning for the answer; accordingly I went; this
was on the 13th. He was very polite, but said that as yet he
could not say anything decided. I played there again for an hour,
and he invited me next day, the 14th, to dinner. In the forenoon
he sent to beg that I would come to him at eleven o'clock, and
bring some pieces with me, as he had asked some of the
professional musicians, and they intended to have some music. I
immediately sent some music, and went myself at eleven, when,
with many lame excuses, he coolly said, "By the by, I could do
nothing about the concert; oh, I was in such a rage yesterday on
your account. The patrician members of the Casino said that their
cashbox was at a very low ebb, and that you were not the kind of
virtuoso who could expect a souverain d'or." I merely smiled, and
said, "I quite agree with them." N. B.--He is Intendant of Music
in the Casino, and the old father a magistrate! but I cared very
little about it. We sat down to dinner; the old gentleman also
dined up-stairs with us, and was very civil, but did not say a
word about the concert. After dinner I played two concertos,
something out of my head, and then a trio of Hafeneder's on the
violin. I would gladly have played more, but I was so badly
accompanied that it gave me the colic. He said to me, good-
naturedly, "Don't let us part company to-day; go to the play with
us, and return here to supper." We were all very merry. When we
came back from the theatre, I played again till we went to
supper. Young Langenmantl had already questioned me in the
forenoon about my cross, [Footnote: Mozart, by his father's
desire, wore the "Order of the Golden Spur," conferred on him by
the Pope.] and I told him exactly how I got it, and what it was.
He and his brother-in-law said over and over again, "Let us order
a cross, too, that we may be on a par with Herr Mozart." I took
no notice of this. They also repeatedly said, "Hallo! you sir!
Knight of the Spur!" I said not a word; but during supper it
became really too bad. "What may it have cost? three ducats? must
you have permission to wear it? Do you pay extra for leave to do
so? We really must get one just like it." An officer there of the
name of Bach, said, "For shame! what would you do with the
cross?" That young ass, Kurzen Mantl, winked at him, but I saw
him, and he knew that I did. A pause ensued, and then he offered
me snuff, saying, "There, show that you don't care a pinch of
snuff for it." I still said nothing. At length he began once more
in a sneering tone: "I may then send to you to-morrow, and you
will be so good as to lend me the cross for a few minutes, and I
will return it immediately after I have spoken to the goldsmith
about it. I know that when I ask him its value (for he is a queer
kind of man) he will say a Bavarian thaler; it can't be worth
more, for it is not gold, only copper, ha! ha!" I said, "By no
means--it is lead, ha! ha!" I was burning with anger and rage. "I
say," rejoined he, "I suppose I may, if need be, leave out the
spur?" "Oh, yes," said I, "for you have one already in your head;
I, too, have one in mine, but of a very different kind, and I
should be sorry to exchange mine for yours; so there, take a
pinch of snuff on that!" and I offered him snuff. He became pale
with rage, but began again: "Just now that order looked so well
on that grand waistcoat of yours." I made no reply, so he called
the servant and said "Hallo! you must have greater respect for my
brother-in-law and myself when we wear the same cross as Herr
Mozart; take a pinch of snuff on that!" I started up; all did the
same, and showed great embarrassment. I took my hat and my sword,
and said, "I hope to have the pleasure of seeing you to-morrow."
"To-morrow I shall not be here." "Well, then, the next morning,
when I shall still be here." "Ho, ho! you surely don't mean to"--
"I mean nothing; you are a set of boors, so good-night," and off
I went.
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