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

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Next day I told the whole story to Herr Stein, Herr Geniaulx, and
to Herr Director Graf--I don't mean about the cross, but how
highly disgusted I was at their having bragged so much about a
concert, and now it had come to nothing. "I call this making a
fool of a person and leaving him in the lurch. I am very sorry
that I ever came here. I could not possibly have believed that in
Augsburg, my papa's native town, such an insult could have been
offered to his son." You cannot imagine, dear papa, how angry and
indignant these three gentlemen were, saying, "Oh, you must
positively give a concert here; we don't stand in need of the
patricians." I, however, adhered to my resolution and said, "I am
willing to give a small farewell concert at Herr Stein's, for my
few kind friends here who are connoisseurs." The Director was
quite distressed, and exclaimed, "It is abominable--shameful; who
could have believed such a thing of Langenmantl! Par Dieu! if he
really wished it, no doubt it would have been carried through."
We then separated. The Director went down-stairs with me in his
dressing-gown as far as the door, and Herr Stein and Geniaulx
walked home with me. They urged us to make up our mind to stay
here for a time, but we remained firm. I must not forget to say
that, when young Langenmantl lisped out to me, in his usual cool
indifferent way, the pleasant news as to my concert, he added,
that the patricians invited me to their concert next Thursday. I
said, "I will come as one of the audience." "Oh, we hope you will
give us the pleasure of hearing you play also." "Well, perhaps I
may; why not?" But having received so grievous an insult the next
evening, I resolved not to go near him again, to steer clear of
the whole set of patricians, and to leave Augsburg. During
dinner, on the 16th, I was called out by a servant-maid of
Langenmantl's, who wished to know whether he might expect me to
go with him to the concert? and he begged I would come to him
immediately after dinner. I sent my compliments in return, that I
had no intention of going to the concert; nor could I come to
him, as I was already engaged (which was quite true); but that I
would call next morning to take leave of him, as on Saturday
next, at furthest, I was to leave Augsburg. In the meantime Herr
Stein had been to see the other patricians of the Evangelical
party, and spoke so strongly to them that these gentlemen were
quite excited. "What!" said they, "shall we permit a man who does
us so much honor to leave this without even hearing him? Herr von
Langenmantl, having already heard him, thinks that is enough."

At last they became so excited that Herr Kurzenmantl, the
excellent youth, was obliged to go to Herr Stein himself to
entreat him, in the name of the patricians, to do all in his
power to persuade me to attend the concert, but to say that I
must not expect great things. At last I went with him, though
with considerable reluctance. The principal gentlemen were very
polite, particularly Baron Belling, who is a director or some
such animal; he opened my music-portfolio himself. I brought a
symphony with me, which they played, and I took a violin part.
The orchestra is enough to throw any one into fits. That young
puppy Langenmantl was all courtesy, but his face looked as
impertinent as ever; he said to me, "I was rather afraid you
might have escaped us, or been offended by our jokes the other
evening." "By no means," said I coolly; "you are still very
young; but I advise you to be more cautious in future, for I am
not accustomed to such jokes. The subject on which you were so
facetious did you no credit, nor did it answer your purpose, for
you see I still wear the order; you had better have chosen some
other topic for your wit." "I assure you," said he, "it was only
my brother-in-law who"--"Let us say no more about it," said I.
"We had nearly been deprived of the pleasure of seeing you
altogether," he rejoined. "Yes; had it not been for Herr Stein, I
certainly should not have come; and, to tell you the truth, I am
only here now to prevent you Augsburg gentlemen being the
laughing-stock of other countries, which would have been the case
if I had told them that I was eight days in the city where my
father was born, without any one there taking the trouble to hear
me!" I played a concerto, and all went off well except the
accompaniment; and as a finale I played a sonata. At the close,
Baron Belling thanked me in the warmest manner in the name of all
the company; and, begging me to consider only their good will,
presented me with two ducats.

They give me no peace here till I agree to give a public concert
next Saturday. Perhaps--but I own I am heartily sick of it all. I
shall be indeed glad when I arrive at a place where there is a
court. I may with truth say that, were it not for my kind
cousins, my regrets would be as numberless as the hairs on my
head for ever having come to Augsburg. I must write you some
account of my fair cousin, but you must excuse my deferring this
till to-morrow, for one ought to be quite fresh to praise her as
highly as she deserves.

The 17th.--I now write early in the morning to say that my cousin
is pretty, intelligent, lovable, clever, and gay, probably
because she has lived so much in society; she was also some time
at Munich. We do, indeed, exactly suit each other, for she too is
rather inclined to be satirical, so we banter our friends most
merrily together. [The Mozart family were both well known and
dreaded for their somewhat sharp tongues.]

67.

Augsburg, Oct. 17, 1777.

I must now tell you about the Stein pianos. Before seeing these,
Spath's pianos were my favorites; but I must own that I give the
preference to those of Stein, for they damp much better than
those in Ratisbon. If I strike hard, whether I let my fingers
rest on the notes or lift them, the tone dies away at the same
instant that it is heard. Strike the keys as I choose, the tone
always remains even, never either jarring or failing to sound. It
is true that a piano of this kind is not to be had for less than
three hundred florins, but the pains and skill which Stein
bestows on them cannot be sufficiently repaid. His instruments
have a feature of their own; they are supplied with a peculiar
escapement. Not one in a hundred makers attends to this; but,
without it, it is impossible that a piano should not buzz and
jar. His hammers fall as soon as they touch the strings, whether
the keys be held down by the fingers or not. When he has
completed an instrument of this class, (which he told me
himself,) he tries all kinds of passages and runs on it, and
works away at it, testing its powers till it is capable of doing
anything, for he labors not for his own benefit alone, (or he
might be saved much trouble,) but for that of music. He often
says, "If I were not such a passionate lover of music, playing
also myself a little on the piano, I should long ago have lost
patience with my work, but I like my instruments to respond to
the player, and to be durable." His pianos do really last well.
He warrants the sounding-board neither breaking nor cracking;
when he has finished one, he exposes it in the air to rain, snow,
sun, and every kind of devilry, that it may give way, and then
inserts slips of wood which he glues in, making it quite strong
and solid. He is very glad when it does crack, for then he is
pretty sure nothing further can happen to it. He frequently makes
cuts into them himself, and then glues them up, thus making them
doubly strong. He has three of these pianos at this moment
finished, and I played on them again to-day.

We dined to-day with young Herr Gassner, who is the handsome
widower of a lovely young wife; they were only married two years.
He is an excellent and kind young man; he gave us a capital
dinner. A colleague of the Abbe Henri Bullinger, and Wishofer
also dined there, and an ex-Jesuit, who is at present
Capellmeister in the cathedral here. He knows Herr Schachtner
well [court-trumpeter at Salzburg], and was leader of his band in
Ingolstadt; he is called Father Gerbl. Herr Gassner, and one of
his wife's unmarried sisters, mamma, our cousin, and I went after
dinner to Herr Stein's. At four o'clock came the Capellmeister
and Herr Schmittbauer, the organist of St. Ulrich, a worthy good
old man. I played at sight a sonata of Becke's, which was rather
difficult, but very poor, al solito. The astonishment of the
Capellmeister and the organist was indescribable. I have played
my six sonatas by heart repeatedly, both here and in Munich. The
fifth in G, I played at the distinguished Casino concert, and the
last in D, which has an incomparable effect on Stein's pianos.
The pedals, pressed by the knees, are also better made by him
than by any one else; you scarcely require to touch them to make
them act, and as soon as the pressure is removed not the
slightest vibration is perceptible.

To-morrow perhaps I shall come to his organs, that is, write to
you about them, and I reserve for the last the subject of his
little daughter. When I said to Herr Stein that I should like to
play on one of his organs, as the organ was my passion, he seemed
surprised, and said, "What! such a man as you, so great a
pianist, like to play on an instrument devoid of sweetness and
expression, with no gradations from piano to forte, but always
going on the same?" "That does not signify; the organ always was,
both in my eyes and ears, the king of all instruments." "Well,
just as you please." So we went together. I could readily
perceive from his conversation that he did not expect me to do
great things on his organ, evidently thinking that I should
handle it in the style of a piano. He told me that by Schobert's
own desire he had taken him also to the organ, "and very nervous
it made me," said he, "for Schobert had told everybody, and the
church was nearly full. I did not doubt the man's spirit, fire,
and execution; still, this does not much suit the organ. But the
moment he began my opinion was entirely changed." I only said in
reply, "Do you then think, Herr Stein, that I am likely to run
wild on the organ?" "Oh! you!"--When we came to the organ-loft, I
began a prelude, when he laughed. A fugue followed. "I can now
quite understand why you like to play the organ," said he, "when
you can play in this manner." At first the pedal was a little
awkward for me, as it was without the breaks, beginning with C,
then D E in one row, whereas with us D and E are above, just
where E flat and F sharp are here; but I quickly mastered it.

I went also to try the old organ at St. Ulrich's. The stair that
leads to it is really dreadful. I requested that some other
person might play the organ for me, that I might go down and
listen to it, for above the organ has no effect; but I profited
very little by this, for the young leader of the choir, a priest,
made such reckless runs on the organ that it was impossible to
understand them, and when he attempted harmonies they proved only
discords, being always false. Afterwards they would insist on our
going to a coffee-room, for mamma and my cousin were with us. A
certain Father Emilian, a conceited jackass and a sorry witling,
was very sweet on my cousin, and wished to have his jest with
her, but she made a jest of him. At last, when rather tipsy,
(which soon occurred,) he began to talk about music, and sang a
canon, saying, "I never in my life heard anything finer." I said,
"I regret that I can't sing it with you, for nature has not given
me the power of intoning." "No matter," said he. So he began. I
made the third, but I sang different words--thus: "Pater Emilian,
oh! thou numskull"--sotto voce to my cousin; then we laughed on
for at least half an hour. The Pater said to me, "If we only
could be longer together, we could discuss the art of musical
composition." "In that case," said I, "our discussion would soon
come to an end." A famous rap on the knuckles for him! TO BE
CONTINUED.

68.

Augsburg, Oct. 23, 1777.

MY concert took place yesterday. Count Wolfeck interested himself
much in it, and brought some chanoinesses with him. I went to his
lodgings the very day I arrived, but he was not here at that
time. A few days ago he returned, and on hearing that I was still
in Augsburg, he did not wait for a visit from me, but at the very
moment when I was taking my hat and sword to go to call on him he
walked in. I must now give you a description of the last few days
before my concert. Last Saturday I was at St. Ulrich's, as I
already told you. Some days before my cousin took me with him to
present me to the Prelate of the Holy Cross, a kind excellent old
man. Previous to going to St. Ulrich's last Saturday, I went with
my cousin to the Monastery of the Holy Cross, as the first time I
was there neither the Deacon nor the Procurator was at home, and
my cousin told me that the Procurator was very jolly. [Here mamma
inserts a few lines--which frequently occurs in the letters. She
says at the close:] "I am quite surprised that Schuster's duets
[see No. 63] are still"--Wolfgang: "Oh, he has got them." Mamma:
"No, indeed; he always writes that he has not got them."
Wolfgang: "I hate arguing; I am sure he has got them, so there's
an end of it." Mamma: "You are mistaken." Wolfgang: "No; I am
right. I will show it to mamma in his own writing." Mamma: "Well,
where is it?" Wolfgang: "Here; read it." She is reading it at
this moment.

Last Sunday I attended service at the Holy Cross, and at ten
o'clock we went to Herr Stein's, where we tried over a couple of
symphonies for the concert. Afterwards I dined with my cousin at
the Holy Cross, where a band played during dinner. Badly as they
play in the monastery, I prefer it to the Augsburg orchestra. I
played a symphony, and a concerto in B of Vanhall's, on the
violin, with unanimous applause. The Dean is a kind, jovial man,
a cousin of Eberlin [deceased Capellmeister of Salzburg]. His
name is Zeschinger. He knows papa well. At night, after supper, I
played the Strassburg concerto; it went as smooth as oil; every
one praised the fine pure tone. A small clavichord was then
brought in, on which I preluded, and played a sonata and the
Fischer variations. Some of those present whispered to the Dean
that he ought to hear me play in the organ style. I asked him to
give me a theme, which he declined, but one of the monks did so.
I handled it quite leisurely, and all at once (the fugue being in
G minor) I brought in a lively movement in the major key, but in
the same tempo, and then at the end the original subject, only
reversed. At last it occurred to me to employ the lively movement
for the subject of the fugue also, I did not hesitate long, but
did so at once, and it went as accurately as if Daser [a Salzburg
tailor] had taken its measure. The Dean was in a state of great
excitement. "It is over," said he, "and it's no use talking about
it, but I could scarcely have believed what I have just heard;
you are indeed an able man. My prelate told me beforehand that in
his life he never heard any one play the organ in a more finished
and solid style" (he having heard me some days previously when
the Dean was not here). At last some one brought me a fugued
sonata, and asked me to play it. But I said, "Gentlemen, I really
must say this is asking rather too much, for it is not likely I
shall be able to play such a sonata at sight." "Indeed, I think
so too; it is too much; no one could do it," said the Dean
eagerly, being all in my favor. "At all events," said I, "I can
but try." I heard the Dean muttering all the time behind me, "Oh,
you rogue! oh, you knave!" I played till 11 o'clock, bombarded
and besieged, as it were, by fugue themes.

Lately, at Stein's, he brought me a sonata of Becke's, but I
think I already told you this. A propos, as to his little girl,
[Footnote: Nanette, at that time eight years old; afterwards the
admirable wife of Andreas Streicher, the friend of Schiller's
youth, and one of Beethoven's best friends in Vienna.] any one
who can see and hear her play without laughing must be Stein
[stone] like her father. She perches herself exactly opposite the
treble, avoiding the centre, that she may have more room to throw
herself about and make grimaces. She rolls her eyes and smirks;
when a passage comes twice she always plays it slower the second
time, and if three times, slower still. She raises her arms in
playing a passage, and if it is to be played with emphasis she
seems to give it with her elbows and not her fingers, as
awkwardly and heavily as possible. The finest thing is, that if a
passage occurs (which ought to flow like oil) where the fingers
must necessarily be changed, she does not pay much heed to that,
but lifts her hands, and quite coolly goes on again. This,
moreover, puts her in a fair way to get hold of a wrong note,
which often produces a curious effect. I only write this in order
to give you some idea of pianoforte-playing and teaching here, so
that you may in turn derive some benefit from it. Herr Stein is
quite infatuated about his daughter. She is eight years old, and
learns everything by heart. She may one day be clever, for she
has genius, but on this system she will never improve, nor will
she ever acquire much velocity of finger, for her present method
is sure to make her hand heavy. She will never master what is the
most difficult and necessary, and in fact the principal thing in
music, namely, time; because from her infancy she has never been
in the habit of playing in correct time. Herr Stein and I
discussed this point together for at least two hours. I have,
however, in some degree converted him; he asks my advice now on
every subject. He was quite devoted to Becke, and now he sees and
hears that I can do more than Becke, that I make no grimaces, and
yet play with so much expression that he himself acknowledges
none of his acquaintances have ever handled his pianos as I do.
My keeping so accurately in time causes them all much surprise.
The left hand being quite independent in the tempo rubato of an
adagio, they cannot at all comprehend. With them the left hand
always yields to the right. Count Wolfeck and others, who have a
passionate admiration for Becke, said lately publicly in a
concert that I beat Becke hollow. Count Wolfeck went round the
room saying, "In my life I never heard anything like this." He
said to me, "I must tell you that I never heard you play as you
did to-day, and I mean to say so to your father as soon as I go
to Salzburg." What do you think was the first piece after the
symphony? The concerto for three pianos. Herr Demmler took the
first part, I the second, and Herr Stein the third. I then played
a solo, my last sonata in D, for Durnitz, and afterwards my
concerto in B; then again a solo in the organ style, namely, a
fugue in C minor, then all of a sudden a splendid sonata in C
major, finishing with a rondo, all extempore. What a noise and
commotion there was! Herr Stein did nothing but make faces and
grimaces of astonishment. Herr Demmler was seized with fits of
laughter, for he is a queer creature, and when anything pleases
him exceedingly, he can't help laughing heartily; indeed, on this
occasion he actually began to swear! Addio!

69.

Augsburg, Oct. 25, 1777.

The receipts of the concert were 90 florins, without deducting
the expenses. Including, therefore, the two ducats we took in the
Casino concert, we had 100 florins. The expenses of the concert
did not exceed 16 florins 30 kreutzers; the room I had gratis. I
believe most of the musicians will make no charge. We have now
ALTOGETHER lost about 26 or 27 florins. This is not of much
moment. I am writing this on Saturday the 25th. This morning
early I received the letter with the sad news of Frau
Oberbereiterin's death. Madlle. Tonerl can now purse up her
mouth, or perhaps open it wide, and shut it again as empty as
ever. As to the baker's daughter, I have no objection to make; I
foresaw all this long ago. This was the cause of my reluctance to
leave home, and finding it so difficult to go. I hope the affair
is not by this time known all over Salzburg? I beg you, dear
papa, most urgently to keep the matter quiet as long as possible,
and in the mean time to pay her father on my account any expenses
he may have incurred by her entrance into the convent, which I
will repay gladly when I return to Salzburg.

I thank you most truly, dear papa, for your good wishes on my
name-day. Do not be uneasy on my account, for I have always God
before my eyes, I acknowledge His omnipotence, I dread His wrath;
but I also know His love, His compassion and mercy towards His
creatures, and that He will never forsake His servants. When His
will is done I am resigned; so I never can fail to be happy and
contented. I shall certainly also strive to live as strictly as
possible in accordance with your injunctions and advice. Thank
Herr Bullinger a thousand times for his congratulations. I mean
to write to him soon and thank him myself, but I may in the mean
time assure him that I neither know nor have any better, more
sincere, or truer friend than himself. I beg also humbly to thank
Madlle. Sallerl; pray tell her I mean to enclose some verses to
show my gratitude to her in my letter to Herr Bullinger. Thank my
sister also; she is to keep the Schuster duets, and give herself
no further trouble on the subject.

In your first letter, dear papa, you write that I lowered myself
by my conduct to that lad Langenmantl. Anything but that! I was
only straightforward, no more. I see you think he is still a boy;
he is one or two and twenty, and a married man. Can any one be
considered a boy who is married? I have never gone near him
since. I left two cards for him to-day, and excused myself for
not going in, having so many indispensable calls to make. I must
now conclude, for mamma insists absolument on going to dinner,
and then to pack. To-morrow we go straight to Wallerstein. My
dear little cousin, who sends you her regards, is anything but a
prude. She dressed a la Francaise to please me yesterday. She
looked at least 5 per cent, prettier in consequence. Now, Addio!

On the 26th of October the mother and son set off to Mannheim.
The mother writes that Wolfgang intended to write to Augsburg,
"but he will scarcely be able to do so to-day, for he is now at
the rehearsal of the oratorio; so I must beg you to accept my
humble self instead." Wolfgang then adds:--

70.

Mannheim, Oct. 30, 1777.

I must beg you also to accept my insignificancy. I went to-day
with Herr Danner to M. Cannabich's [Director of the Elector's
orchestra]. He was uncommonly polite, and I played something for
him on his piano, which is a very good one. We went together to
the rehearsal. I could scarcely help laughing when I was
presented to the musicians, because, though some who knew me by
renomme were very civil and courteous, the rest, who knew nothing
whatever about me, stared in such a ludicrous way, evidently
thinking that because I am little and young nothing great or
mature is to be found in me; but they shall soon find it out.
Herr Cannabich is to take me himself to-morrow to Count Savioli,
the Intendant of Music. One good thing is that the Elector's
name-day is close at hand. The oratorio they are rehearsing is
Handel's, but I did not stay to hear it, for they first rehearsed
a Psalm Magnificat of the Vice-Capellmeister here, [Abbe] Vogler,
which lasted a good hour. I must now conclude, for I have still
to write to my cousin.

71.

Mannheim, Nov. 4, 1777.

I am at Cannabich's every day, and mamma went with me there to-
day. He is a very different man from what he formerly was,
[FOOTNOTE: Mozart had been at his house, when a boy, with his
father.] and the whole orchestra say the same. He is very fond of
me. He has a daughter who plays the piano very nicely, and in
order to make him still more friendly towards me I am working
just now at a sonata for her, which is finished all but the
Rondo. When I had completed the first allegro and andante, I took
it to him myself and played it over; you can't think what
applause this sonata receives. There chanced to be some of the
musicians there at the moment--young Danner, Lang, who plays the
French horn, and the hautboy-player, whose name I forget, but who
plays remarkably well, and has a pleasing delicate tone [Ramm]. I
made him a present of a concerto for the hautboy; it is being
copied in Cannabich's room. The man is wild with delight. I
played him the concerto to-day at Cannabich's, and THOUGH KNOWN
TO BE MINE it pleased very much. No one said that it was NOT WELL
COMPOSED, because people here don't understand these things. They
ought to apply to the Archbishop; he would soon put them on the
right scent. [FOOTNOTE: The Archbishop never was satisfied with
any of the compositions that Mozart wrote for his concerts, but
invariably had some fault to find with them.] I played all my six
sonatas to-day at Cannabich's. Herr Kapellmeister Holzbauer went
with me to-day to Count Savioli's. Cannabich was there at the
time. Herr Holzbauer said to the Count in Italian that I wished
to have the honor of playing before his Serene Highness the
Elector. "I was here fifteen years ago," said I, "but now I am
older and more advanced, and I may say in music also"--"Oh!" said
the Count, "you are"--I have no idea whom he took me for, as
Cannabich interrupted him, but I affected not to hear, and
entered into conversation with the others. Still I observed that
he was speaking of me very earnestly. The Count then said to me,
"I hear that you play the piano very tolerably?" I bowed.

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