[ On the envelope ]
will side with the king of Prussia and that Austria will then have to deal with 2 very great powers.27 I expect you’ll have received my answer to your first letter, and my two terribly long letters will also have reached Baron Grimm. Wolfg. wants an ABC, but he won’t have much time to devote to it. Here’s something.
I can’t write properly today, this pen is useless, and I have to rush away to Vespers, the Italians will also be there, I won the prize for Mama. We kiss you both a million times. I am your old faithful
Mzt
Addio. Keep well.
Pimperl is keeping well, whenever she stands on the table she scratches the rolls very gently with her paws to indicate that she wants to be given one, also the knife, indicating that we should cut her a slice. And if there are 4 or 5 snuffboxes on the table, she’ll scratch the one containing Spanish tobacco so someone takes a pinch and then lets her lick their fingers.
80. Mozart to his father, 1 May 1778, Paris
Mon très cher Père,
Your letter of 12 April has arrived safely, this was the reason why I’ve not written for so long, as I wanted to wait for a letter from you; and you mustn’t take it amiss if I sometimes keep you waiting a long time for a letter; but letters are very expensive here, and unless one’s got something important to say, it’s not worth while spending 24 or more sous. I’d always intended to delay writing until I had some news and could tell you more about our circumstances; but now I’m obliged, after all, to provide you with an account of the few matters that are still unresolved. The little cellist Zygmontofscky 1 and his worthless father are here, perhaps I’ve already told you that – – I do so only in passing as I’ve just remembered that I saw him at the place that I now intend to tell you about, namely, the home of Madame la Duchesse de Chabot.2 Monsieur Grimm gave me a letter for her, and so I went to see her. The letter was mainly to recommend me to the Duchesse de Bourbon3 – who was in a convent last time – and to reintroduce me to her and remind her of me. A week passed without any news at all; but she’d asked me to return after a week had gone by, so I kept my word and turned up. I had to wait half an hour in a large, ice-cold, unheated room that didn’t even have a fireplace. Finally the Duchesse de Chabot arrived, politeness itself, and asked me to make do with the piano that was there as none of her other ones had been seen to; she suggested I should give it a try. I said I’d be only too happy to play something but that it was now impossible as my fingers were numb with cold; and I asked her if she’d at least take me to a room with a hearth and a fire. O oui Monsieur, vous avez raison. 4 That was her entire answer. She then sat down and started to draw for a whole hour in the company of some gentlemen, who all sat in a circle round a large table. I had the honour to wait a whole hour. Windows and doors were open. By now not only my hands were cold, so were my feet and my whole body; and my head started to ache. In short, there was altum silentium. 5 I didn’t know what to do for cold, headache and boredom. I kept thinking that if it weren’t for Monsieur Grimm, I’d leave at once. Finally – and to be brief – I played on that miserable, wretched pianoforte. But the most annoying thing of all was that Madame and the gentlemen didn’t stop drawing for a moment, but continued as before, so that I had to play for the chairs, table and walls. In such adverse circumstances I lost my patience – I started the Fischer variations, played half of them, then got up. They showered me with praise. I just said the only thing I could say, namely, that I couldn’t do myself justice on this piano and that I’d very much like to choose another day when there’d be a better piano. But she wouldn’t hear of it, and I had to wait another half an hour for her husband to come. He then sat down beside me and listened with the greatest attention, so that I – I forgot all about the cold and my headache and, regardless of the wretched piano, played as I play when I’m in a good mood. Give me the best piano in Europe but with people who, as an audience, understand nothing or who don’t want to understand anything and who feel nothing when I’m playing, and I lose all sense of pleasure. I told Monsieur Grimm about it all afterwards. You write that I should pay lots of calls in order to make new contacts and renew old ones. But this isn’t possible. It’s too far to go on foot – or too muddy, as the filth in Paris is indescribable. And taking a carriage means that you have the honour of wasting 4 or 5 livres a day – and all for nothing. People pay you compliments, but that’s it. They summon me to appear on such and such a day; I play for them, they say O c’est un Prodige, c’est inconcevable, c’est étonnant. 6 And with that, goodbye. At first I wasted a lot of money driving round – and often in vain as the people weren’t there. Anyone who’s not here can’t believe how disastrous this is. Paris really has changed a lot. The French are not nearly as polite as they were 15 years ago. They now verge on coarseness. And they’re terribly arrogant.
I must now describe the Concert Spirituel for you. I must add in passing that my work on the choruses was in vain, so to speak, as Holzbauer’s Miserere is already very long and wasn’t to people’s liking, so they performed only 2 of my 4 choruses. As a result they missed out the best bits. But that didn’t really matter as hardly anyone knew that I’d had a hand in it and many knew nothing at all about me. Even so, there was lots of applause at the rehearsal; and I myself am very pleased with my choruses – I set little store by the praise of the Parisians. There’s again a snag with the sinfonia concertante, though I think that there’s another problem and that I again have my enemies here. Where haven’t I had them? – But it’s a good sign. I had to write the sinfonia in the greatest haste but I worked very hard, and the 4 soloists were and still are head over heels in love with it. Legros kept it for 4 days in order to have it copied, but I always found it lying in the same place. Finally – the day before yesterday – I couldn’t find it but had a good look among the music and found it hidden away. I feigned ignorance and asked Legros: By the way, have you already given the sinf. concertante to the copyist? – No – I forgot. I can’t, of course, order him to have it copied and performed, so I said nothing. I went to the Concert on the 2 days when it should have been played. Ramm and Punto came over to me, snorting with rage, and asked why my sinfonia concert. wasn’t being given. – I don’t know. That’s the first I’ve heard about it. No one ever tells me anything. Ramm flew into a rage and cursed Legros in the green room in French, saying that it wasn’t nice of him etc. What annoys me most of all about the whole affair is that Legros never said a word to me about it, I wasn’t allowed to know what was going on – if he’d offered me some excuse, saying that there wasn’t enough time or something similar, but to say nothing at all – but I think that Cambini, 7 one of the Italian maestri here, is the cause because in all innocence I made him look foolish in Legros’ eyes at our first meeting. He’s written some quartets, one of which I heard in Mannheim; they’re really quite attractive; and I praised them to him and played the opening; but Ritter, Ramm and Punto were there, too, and they wouldn’t leave me in peace but told me to continue and make up what I couldn’t remember. So I did as they asked. And Cambini was beside himself and couldn’t stop saying questa è una gran Testa !8 But I don’t think he can have liked it. If this were a place where people had ears to hear and hearts to feel and if they understood even a little about music and taste, I’d laugh heartily at all these things but – as far as music is concerned – I’m among beasts and brutes. But how could it be otherwise, they’re exactly the same in all their actions, emotions and passions – there’s nowhere in the world like Paris. You mustn’t think I’m exaggerating when I speak like this about the music here. Consult anyone you like – as long as it’s not a native Frenchman – and – if it’s someone you can consult – he’ll say the same. I’m here now. I have to put up with it for your sake. I shall thank Almighty God if I leave here with my taste intact. I pray to God every day to give me grace to hold out steadfastly and to be a credit to myself and the whole of the German nation inasmuch as it is all to His greater honour and glo
ry; and I pray that He will allow me to prosper and make lots of money, so that I may help you out of your present predicament and take steps to ensure that we’re soon back together again and can live together happily and contentedly. For the rest, may His will be done on earth as it is in heaven. In the meantime, my dearest Papa, please do all you can to ensure that I get to see Italy soon, so that I may find a new lease of life. Please give me this pleasure, I beg you.
But now I ask you to be cheerful – I’ll hack my way out of here as best I can. As long as I can get away unscathed. Adieu. I kiss your hands 1000 times and embrace my sister with all my heart. I am your most obedient son
Wolfgang Amadè Mozart
[ Maria Anna Mozart’s postscript on the envelope ]
My dear husband, I hope that you and Nannerl are keeping well. For 3 weeks now I’ve been plagued by toothache and my head, throat and ears have been hurting, but, thank God, I’m now better, I don’t get out much and the rooms are cold even when there’s a fire, you just have to get used to it. If Count Wolfegg ever comes to Paris and could bring a black powder and a digestive powder, that would be very kind of him as I’ve nearly run out. Best wishes to all our acquaintances. Monsieur Heina9 and his wife send their best wishes, he often calls on me, addio keep well I kiss you many 100, 000 times and remain your faithful wife
Maria Anna Mozart
81. Maria Anna Mozart to her husband, 14 May 1778, Paris
My Dear Husband,
Praise and thanks be to God, we’re both well and hope that you too are equally well. Our only pleasure is to hear that this is so. As for our own circumstances, we can be well satisfied, considering the time of year, Wolfgang has found himself a good family. He has to teach composition for 2 hours a day to the daughter of the Duc de Guines, he pays well and is the queen’s1 favourite, the duke loves Wolfgang more than anything, at the moment he has 3 pupils, he could have more but can’t take them on because everything’s so far away and he doesn’t have time until we’ve sorted ourselves out, by winter he’ll have so much to do that he won’t know whether he’s coming or going, or so everyone’s telling him, we also intend – and all our good friends advise us to do so – to take rooms of our own at the end of the summer, furnish them ourselves (something that can easily be done here) and prepare our own meals, in this way we can live for half the cost, we’ll do so as soon as we’ve got some more money. Above all I’d like to know more about the war, 2 people here are saying that peace has been concluded between the emperor and Prussia, war hasn’t been declared between here and England, 3 but plenty of preparations are being made. The queen is pregnant again, it’s not yet been made public, but there’s no question about it, the French are delighted. Please give our best wishes to Herr Ceccarelli – if he’s still in Salzburg –, we’re sorry not to have had the pleasure of meeting him. How’s Frau Adlgasser, is little Viktoria still with her, and what are Waberl Eberlin and Berhandsky up to, do they still call on us? Is Nannerl still going to Antretter’s every week, is young Antretter still at Neu-Ötting4 now that everything has changed in Bavaria? Are Fräulein von Schiedenhofen and Nannerl Kranach still coming to the target practice, Herr von Schiedenhofen will no doubt be very proud at having such a wealthy wife and will no longer deign to come to our house, not that it matters, otherwise I hope that Salzburg is much the same as ever.
Here in Paris a lot has changed since last time, it’s much bigger and has expanded so much I can’t describe it, the Chaussée d’Antin where Monsieur Grimm lives is a completely new suburb and there are lots of beautiful broad streets like it, it’s true that I haven’t seen many of them but I’ve got a new map of the town, which is very different from our old one. Something for Nannerl: the fashion here is to wear neither earrings nor a necklace nor any jewelled pins in your hair, in fact no sparkling jewels at all, whether real or artificial, their hair is worn extraordinarily high, no heart-shaped toupée, but equally high all over, making more than a third of an ell in all, then come the caps, which are even higher than the toupée, and at the back is the plait or chignon, which goes right down the neck, with lots of curls at the sides, the toupée is made entirely of crêpe, not smooth hair, they’ve been wearing them even higher so that the carriages had to be made higher as women couldn’t sit upright in them, but they’ve now come down again. Polonaises5 are very fashionable and exceptionally well made. The corselets worn by unmarried women are smooth round the stomach at the front and have no folds. Nannerl now knows enough about Paris fashions and I must leave room for Wolfgang, so keep well, both of you, I kiss you many 100, 000 times, best wishes to all our good friends, Monsieur Bullinger, Sallerl, Deibl, Mistress Mitzerl and all the others. I remain your faithful wife
Marianna Mozart
Best wishes to Tresel and a big kiss for Pimperl, is the warbler still alive? – –
[ Mozart’s postscript ]
I now have so much to do, what will it be like in winter? – I think I told you in my last letter that the Duc de Guines, whose daughter is my composition pupil, plays the flute exceptionally well and that she herself is a magnificent harpist; she has plenty of talent and genius and, in particular, an exceptional memory as she plays all her pieces–200 in fact – by heart. But she doubts very much whether she has any gifts as a composer, especially as regards thoughts – ideas; – but her father – who, between the two of us, is far too much in love with her – says that she certainly has ideas, adding that it’s simply timidity and that she has too little faith in her own abilities. We’ll see. If she has no ideas or thoughts – and at present she doesn’t have any at all–it’ll all be in vain, for – God knows – I can’t give her any. Her father’s aim isn’t to make a great composer of her – she’s not, he says, to write operas, arias, concertos or symphonies, but only grand sonatas for her instrument and mine. I gave her her 4th lesson today, and as far as the rules of composition and harmony are concerned, I’m quite pleased with her – she added quite a good bass to the first minuet that I set her. She’s now starting to write in 3 parts. It starts off very well, but she soon gets bored, and I can’t help her; I can’t go on to the next stage yet. It’s too soon, even if there really were genius here, but unfortunately there isn’t – everything will have to be done with art. She simply doesn’t have any ideas. Nothing comes. I’ve tried everything possible with her; I even had the idea of writing out a very simple minuet and seeing if she could write a variation on it. – But it was a waste of time – all right, I thought, she simply doesn’t know how to begin – so I started to write a variation on the first bar and told her to continue in the same vein and keep to the idea – in the end it went fairly well. When she’d finished, I told her to start something of her own – only the leading voice, the melody – well, she thought about it for a whole quarter of an hour – but nothing came. So I wrote down 4 bars of a minuet and said to her: Look what a fool I am; I’ve started a minuet but can’t even complete the first section; would you mind finishing it off for me; she thought it would be impossible; but finally, after a great deal of effort, something emerged; I was pleased that she’d produced something for once. She then had to complete the minuet – I mean just the leading voice. But for her homework I told her just to change my 4 bars and write something of her own – invent a different beginning – the harmony could be the same, only the melody should be different. Well, I’ll see tomorrow what’s come of it. – I think I’ll soon be receiving the libretto for my opera en deux actes. I’ll first have to show it to the director, Monsieur de Vismes, to see if he’ll accept it. But there’s no doubt that he will, as Noverre suggested it, and de Vismes owes his position to Noverre. Noverre will also be presenting a new ballet, for which I’ll write the music.6 Rodolphe – the horn player – is in the king’s service and a very good friend of mine. He has a thorough understanding of composition and writes very well. He has offered me the post of organist at Versailles, if I’ll accept it. It pays 2000 livres a year, but I’d have to spend 6 months at Versail
les and the other 6 in Paris or wherever I like. But I don’t think I’ll accept it. I must be advised by my good friends here. 2000 livres isn’t such a vast sum. In German money, of course, but not here. It amounts to 83 louis d’or and 8 livres a year, of course, or, in our own money, 915 florins and 45 kr. – that would be a lot, of course, but here it amounts to only 333 thalers and 2 livres – and that’s not much. It’s frightening how quickly a thaler disappears here. It doesn’t surprise me that people think so little of a louis d’or here as it’s worth very little. 4 such thalers, or 1 louis, which is the same thing, are spent in no time. Adieu for now. Keep well. I kiss your hands 1000 times and embrace my sister with all my heart. I am your most obedient son
Wolfgang Amadè Mozart
Best wishes to all our friends, especially to Herr Bullinger.
82. Maria Anna Mozart to her husband, 29 May 1778, Paris
My Dear Husband,
Mozart: A Life in Letters: A Life in Letters Page 32