By 10 o’clock I was at court, where I saw Countess Salern. She’d already received the arias. Of course, the Robinigs say whatever comes into their heads. I then had lunch at the Brancas. Privy Councillor Branca had been invited to the French ambassador’s and so he wasn’t at home. People call him their Excellency. His wife is French. She can barely speak a word of German, I spoke French to her all the time. I was quite cheeky. She told me that I didn’t speak too badly and had a good habit of speaking slowly, which made me easy to understand; she’s a most excellent woman, with a real savoir vivre. Her daughter plays well, though she still can’t play in time. I thought that she or her ear was the cause, but now I can blame only her teacher. He’s too indulgent and instantly satisfied. I practised with her today. I’d be willing to wager that if she studied with me for 2 months she’d be able to play really well and accurately. She asked me to send her best wishes to you both and also to the whole of the Robinig household. She was at the convent at the same time as Fräulein Louise.10 Later a certain Fräulein Lindner, who is now at Count Salern’s as governess to the 2 little countesses, likewise asked me to send all manner of messages to the Robinigs and to Fräulein Aloisia von Schiedenhofen, with whom she was at the same convent. At 4 I went to see Frau von d’Hosson, where I found Mama and Frau von Hepp. I played till 8 o’clock, then we came home. I should add that at half past 9 a small group of 5 players – 2 clarinets, 2 horns and 1 bassoon – turned up. Herr Albert – whose name day it is tomorrow – had arranged for them to play in honour of the two of us. They didn’t play at all badly together. They were the same people as those who are on duty in Albert’s hall, but it’s clear that they’ve been coached by Fiala.11 They played works by him, and I have to say that they were very attractive pieces. He has some very good ideas. Tomorrow we’re holding a little scratch concert – on the wretched keyboard, of course. Ow! Ow! Ow! I hope you have a very restful night and improve a good wish by hearing to hope that Papa is recovered full. I forgive your begging on account of my frightful handwriting, but ink, haste, sleep, dreams and everything else. – – – I Papa you, my very own kissing, 1000 times the dearest, and my embrace, the hearts, sister I with all my scoundrel, and am now and ever shall be, Amen,
Wolfgang most obedient your
Amadé Mozart son
Munich, 3 Oct.1777
To all good friends
bad friends
good friends
bad friends
all manner of messages!
56. Leopold Mozart to his son, 4 October 1777, Salzburg
Mon très cher Fils,
I can’t imagine that anything good will come of Munich, the elector is bound to take no one on unless there’s a vacancy: and on top of everything, there are always secret enemies who would thwart you out of fear. Herr Albert’s plan certainly demonstrates the greatest friendship imaginable, yet, however possible it may seem to you that you’ll find 10 people, each willing to give you a ducat a month, I see this as an impossibility. And who could these philanthropists or music lovers be? – – And what kind of a commitment or service would they demand from you in return? That Count Seeau may give you something makes much more sense to me: but without the former, the latter would be insignificant. If Herr Albert can arrange this for a year – I won’t ask for more – you could agree to a proposal from Count Seeau: but what would he demand? – – Perhaps all the work that Herr Michl1 has done? – – Running round, training singers? – – It would be the devil’s own work; it would be impossible! In short, I don’t see where these 10 charming friends would come from. Also, Herr Albert may not be able to speak to them straightaway, as some of them may be out of town. I’d prefer them to be businessmen and other honest people rather than courtiers, for a lot depends on whether they will keep their word and for how long. If the matter is feasible, well and good! You should accept it. But if the matter can’t be brought to an immediate conclusion, you can’t sit around, wasting time and money as you can’t expect to earn a penny in Munich, in spite of all the compliments and the demonstrations of friendship. If this affair can’t be set going now, Herr Albert and our other good friends can think about setting things in motion while you continue your journey and wait to hear from him. The rage for the Italians no longer goes very far and is virtually restricted to Munich. That’s all it is – a fashion that’s got out of hand! In Mannheim, on the other hand, everyone apart from a few castratos is already German. In Trier, at the court of His Royal Highness the Elector Prince Clemens of Saxony, there’s only Maestro Sales, 2 the rest are German, in Mainz they’re all German, in Würzburg there’s only a violinist, Sgr Fracassini, 3 who I think is now leader or even Kapellmeister – but that’s only because of his German wife, a singer and a native of Würzburg. There isn’t a single Italian working for any of the minor Protestant princes. I’m writing this in haste, Herr Lotter wants to take it with him. I’m enclosing the chorales4 – you may find them useful and even necessary; one has to know everything. – – I’ve just been to see the chief steward 5 who’ll be coming here specially during the next few days so that I can tell him about everything – his own house is in a state of constant uproar, with people always being announced or his countess rushing in. He’s genuinely fond of you, and before he heard what had happened, he’d already bought 4 horses and was looking forward to the pleasure he’d give you by coming with 4 riding horses. Once he knew what had happened, his annoyance was indescribable. When he was paying a courtesy call on the archbishop, the latter said to him: At least we’ve now one less person in the orchestra. He replied: You Grace has lost a great virtuoso.– Why? asked the prince.– – His reply: He is the greatest keyboard player I’ve heard in my life. On the violin he has served Your Grace well, and he was also a very good composer. The archbishop fell silent, as there was nothing he could say to this. I must sign off now as there’s no more space. You should at least write and let me know that you’ve received such and such a letter. By now you should have received the packet and roll with the diplomas and Padre Martini’s testimonial. There was a hanging this morning. This evening there’s a play, tomorrow a masked ball that’s being given by Prince Breuner.6 We kiss you millions of times. I am your old
Mozart
Make sure you don’t lose Padre Martini’s testimonial.
[ Postscript added by Nannerl Mozart ]
Dearest Mama and Brother,
I’m delighted to hear that you’re both well and in good spirits. I still haven’t told you my daily routine since you left. So I’ll start today.7
Keep well, and let us know if you’ve received our 4 letters and the parcel. I kiss Mama’s hands and remind you not to forget me.
Maria Anna Mozart
Secretary Strasser has finally decided to marry the apothecary’s daughter, Tresel Ruprecht, within a month.
No position was forthcoming in Munich so Mozart and his mother left for Augsburg on 11 October.
57. Mozart to his father, 16 October 1777, Augsburg
Mon très cher Père,
As for the daughter of the secretary of war, Herr Hamm, 1 I can say only that she must necessarily have a gift for music as she has been studying it for only 3 years but can play many pieces very well. But it’s not easy for me to explain how she strikes me when she plays; – – – she seems strangely affected – – with her long bony fingers she clambers over the keyboard in such a strange way. Of course, she has never had a decent teacher, and if she stays in Munich she’ll never become what her father wants and demands of her. He wants her to excel at the keyboard – – if she were to study with Papa in Salzburg, she would find it doubly useful, both from a musical point of view and in terms of her intelligence, for there’s not much sign of the latter. I’ve already had a good laugh at her expense, you’d certainly be well rewarded for your pains. She can’t eat much as she’s too simple-minded for that. Should I have tested her? – –I couldn’t do so for laughing. If I showed her what to do by playing something a number of
times with my right hand, she would immediately say bravissimo in a mouse-like voice. I’ll now finish off my account of my time in Augsburg as briefly as possible. Herr von Fingerlin, to whom I gave Papa’s best wishes, was also at Director Graf’s. The people there were all very polite and kept talking about a concert. They also said it would be one of the most brilliant we’ve had in Augsburg. You’ve a great advantage in that you’re acquainted with our magistrate, Herr Langenmantel; and the name Mozart, too, carries great weight here. We parted in the best of spirits. Now, Papa must know that at Herr Stein’s young Herr Langenmantel said he’d arrange for a concert to be held at the Stube2 – as something exceptional that would do me great credit – just for the patricians. You can’t imagine how emphatically he spoke and promised to pursue the matter. He agreed that I’d return the next day and hear his response. I went there – it was the 13th – he was very polite but said that for now he had nothing definite to tell me. I again played for about an hour. He invited me to have lunch with him the next day, the 14th. During the morning he sent word, asking me to come at 11 and bring something with me, he’d invited some members of the orchestra and they wanted something to play. I sent him something at once. Arrived at 11. He then offered a whole string of excuses, saying quite calmly: Listen, the concert’s off. Oh, I got very angry yesterday because of you. The patricians told me that their coffers are nearly empty and that you’re not the sort of virtuoso to whom one could give a souverain d’or. I smiled and said I didn’t think so either. NB: He’s intendant of the orchestra at the Stube and his old man is the magistrate. I didn’t make any fuss about it. We sat down at table. His old man was also having lunch up there; he was very polite but didn’t say anything about the concert. After lunch I played 2 concertos.3 Something from memory.
Then a trio by Hafeneder4 on the violin. I’d like to have played more on the violin but was so badly accompanied that it gave me the colic. He was very friendly and said we should spend the rest of the day together and go to the theatre and then have supper together. We enjoyed ourselves enormously. When we returned from the theatre, I again played until it was time to eat. We then went in to supper. He’d already asked me about my cross that morning. I explained to him quite clearly what it was and how I’d got it. He and his brother-in-law said more than once: we should get our own crosses so we can become members of Herr Mozart’s Corporation. But I paid them no attention. And more than once they called me sir and addressed me as knight of the spur. I said nothing. But during supper it really became too much. How much does it cost? 3 ducats?– – Do you have to have permission to wear it? – – Does this permission cost something too? We really must get our own crosses; a certain officer was there, Baron Bach, who said: Fie, you should be ashamed of yourselves, what would you do with the cross? That young ass Kurzenmantl5 winked at him. I saw him. He noticed. Everyone went very quiet; he then gave me some snuff and said: Here, take a pinch. I said nothing. Finally he started making fun of me again: I’ll send someone round tomorrow and perhaps you’ll be good enough to lend me your cross for a moment, I’ll send it straight back, it’s just so that I can speak to the goldsmith. I’m sure that if I ask him what it’s worth – he’s quite an odd character – he’ll say about a Bavarian thaler. It’s certainly not worth any more, as it’s not gold but copper, ha ha! No, no, I said, it’s tin, ha ha! I was burning with anger and rage. But tell me, he said, I suppose I can leave out the spur? – – Oh yes, I said; you don’t need it, you’ve already got one in your head.6 I’ve got one of my own, but it’s different from yours. I certainly wouldn’t like to swap it with yours. Here, take a pinch of snuff.I gave him some snuff. He turned rather pale. But then he began again: it looked good recently on your expensive waistcoat. I said nothing.
Finally he called out to his servant, Hey, you’ll have to show us more respect when the two of us – me and my brother-in-law – wear Herr Mozart’s cross. Here, take a pinch of snuff on that; that’s odd, I began, as though I’d not heard what he’d said, but I can sooner get all the orders that you can get than you can become what I am, even if you were to die twice and be reborn. Here, take a pinch of snuff on that, and I stood up. They all stood up and were deeply embarrassed. I took my hat and sword and said I’d have the pleasure of seeing them the next day. Oh, I’m not here tomorrow. Then I’ll come the day after tomorrow, if I’m still here. Oh, surely you won’t – – I won’t. It’s like an almshouse here. In the meantime, goodbye. And with that I was gone. The next day, the 15th, I told Herr Stein, Herr Gignoux 7 and Director Graf all that had happened – not about the cross but that I was utterly disgusted at being taken in by their promises about a concert and how it had all come to nothing. This is what’s called making a fool of people and taking them in. I sincerely regret having come here. Never in my whole life would I have believed that in Papa’s native town of Augsburg his son would be so insulted. Papa can’t imagine how sorry and angry the 3 of them were. Oh, you must give a concert here. We don’t need the patricians. But my mind was made up; and I said yes, I’ll give a small farewell concert at Herr Stein’s for my few good friends here, who are connoisseurs. The director was utterly dismayed. It’s appalling, he exclaimed; it’s a disgrace – – who’d have imagined it of Langenmantel – – Pardieu, if he’d wanted to, it could have been arranged. We parted. Wearing his dressing gown, the director accompanied me downstairs and as far as the front door. Herr Stein and Herr Gignoux – who sends Papa his best wishes – walked home with me. They urged us to stay here a little while longer; but our minds were made up. Now Papa must know that after mumbling his news about the concert as if it were a matter of total indifference, young Herr Langenmantel told me that the patricians are inviting me to their concert next Thursday. I said I’d go along and listen. Oh, won’t you give us the pleasure of hearing you play? – – Well, who knows? Why not? But I was so insulted the following evening that I decided not to return there but to let the whole of the town’s patricians lick my arse, and then leave. On Thursday, the 16th, while we were eating, I was called out; it was one of Langenmantel’s girls wanting to know if I was definitely going with him to the concert. – – And would I call on him immediately after lunch? I sent him my most humble regards, adding that I was not going to the concert and couldn’t call on him as I was already spoken for – as was indeed true. But I’d go there the next day and say goodbye to him as I was leaving on Saturday at the latest. Meanwhile, Herr Stein had run off to the other patricians in the Evangelical camp and harangued them so pitilessly that they were quite terrified. What, they said, are we to allow a man who does us so much honour to leave without hearing him? Herr von Langenmantel must think that it’s enough that he’s heard him himself. Enfin, they got so worked up that our good young Herr von Kurzenmantel had to go and see Herr Stein in person and beg him on everyone’s behalf to do his utmost to persuade me to go to the concert. I wasn’t to expect anything much et caetera. And so, after a great deal of hesitation, I went off with him. The leading members of the nobility were perfectly polite, especially a local official, Baron Rehlingen, who’s also a director or some such beast. He even unpacked my music. I’d also taken a symphony8 with me. They played it, I sat with the violins. But the orchestra here is enough to drive you mad. That young fop Langenmantel was perfectly polite, but he still had a contemptuous look. He said to me: I really thought you’d give us the slip. I even thought you might have been annoyed at our recent joke. Oh, not at all, I said, you’re still young. But you should be more careful in future. I’m not used to jokes of that kind. And the subject that you were laughing at does you no credit whatsoever, quite apart from the fact that it was pointless as I’m still wearing it. You should have joked about something else. I assure you, he said, it was only my brother-in-law who – – Forget it, I said. We almost didn’t have the pleasure of seeing you. Yes, if it hadn’t been for Herr Stein, I’d certainly not have come; and to tell you the truth, I’ve come only so that you, the good people of Augsburg, woul
dn’t be laughed at in other countries if I were to say that I’d been in my father’s home town for a week without anyone taking the trouble to hear me. I played a concerto.9 Apart from the accompaniment, it all went well. To end with, I played another sonata. Then Baron Rehlingen thanked me most politely in the name of the whole company and asked me to note only their good will, and with that he gave me 2 ducats. But I’m still not being left in peace, I’m supposed to give a public concert between now and Sunday – – perhaps – – but I’m already so sickened of the whole affair I can’t even begin to tell you. I’ll be glad to move on to a place where there’s a court! I can say quite truthfully that if it weren’t for my dear uncle and aunt and my lovely cousin, I’d have as many regrets at coming to Augsburg as I have hairs on my head. I must now say something about my dear mistress cousin, 10 but I’ll save this up till tomorrow as one has to be in a very good mood to praise her as much as she deserves.
I’m writing this on the morning of the 17th and assure you that our little cousin is beautiful, intelligent, delightful, clever and good fun; and it’s all because she gets around a lot. She also spent some time in Munich. It’s true, the two of us are well matched as she too is a bit naughty. We both have a good laugh at people, which is great fun. Please don’t forget the address of the bishop of Chiemsee. I think I’ll send the letter for Gaetano Santoro to Myslivecek today, as we agreed. He’s already given me his address. Please write to poor Myslivecek soon as I know that he’ll be very pleased to hear from you. In my next letter I’ll tell you about Stein’s pianofortes and organs and principally about the Stube concert. The nobility was out in force, Duchess Arsespank, Countess Pisslike and Princess Shitsniff with her 2 daughters, who are already married to the 2 Princes Potbelly of Pigtail. Farewell, all of you. I kiss Papa’s hands 100, 000 times and embrace my scoundrel of a sister with bearlike tenderness and am your most obedient son
Mozart: A Life in Letters: A Life in Letters Page 21