Chapter 4

ALOYSIA WEBER, sister to Mozart's wife, and her husband JOS. LANGE, actor and painter.From the first volume of "Die Ephemeriden der Litteratur und des Theaters." Berlin, 1785. Drawn by Lange himself. We owe to him the last portrait of Mozart.

ALOYSIA WEBER, sister to Mozart's wife, and her husband JOS. LANGE, actor and painter.

From the first volume of "Die Ephemeriden der Litteratur und des Theaters." Berlin, 1785. Drawn by Lange himself. We owe to him the last portrait of Mozart.

It was summer, the nobility had gone to their country seats, and there were few lessons and few concerts. Mozart worked at pianofortesonatasand dreamed of an opera. Josephine Aurnhammer, remarkably fat, ugly, and an excellent pianist, fell in love with him, and he was therefore obliged to gradually break off his acquaintance with the "sentimental mastodon." In December Clementi came to Vienna, and he and Mozart played before the Emperor. Mozart was proclaimed victor, and the Emperor gave him fifty ducats and saw in him the man to assist him in founding the lyric German drama. Stephanie, the inspector of the opera, had provided the text of "Die Entführung aus dem Serail" (The Escape from the Seraglio) and Mozart had already written much of the music before Clementi's visit. In a letter to his father he describes the work of a day. "At six o'clock my hair-dresser awakes me; by seven I am shaven, curled, and dressed; I compose until nine, and then give lessons until one; I then dine alone, unless I am invited to some great house, in which case my dinner is put off until two or three; then I work again about five or six, unless I go to a concert, in which case I work after my return until one in the morning." In July (the 13th or the 16th, for there is a dispute concerning the date), 1782, "The Escape from the Seraglio" was given. The house was crammed, there was no end to the applause and cheering, and performances followed one another in quick succession. The German opera was established; but the Emperor Joseph only said, "Too fine for our ears, and too many notes." Mozart replied, "Just as many notes as are necessary, your Majesty."It was in this opera, according to Carl Maria von Weber, that Mozart arrived at the full maturity of his genius.

MOZART'S WIFE.Constanze Weber. From a woodcut by A. Neumann, after a photograph from an aquarelle painting on ivory, in the Mozarteum, in Salzburg.

MOZART'S WIFE.

Constanze Weber. From a woodcut by A. Neumann, after a photograph from an aquarelle painting on ivory, in the Mozarteum, in Salzburg.

The 4th of August, 1782, Mozart married Constanze Weber, before the arrival of his father's formal consent. He had been in love with her for some months, and in December of the year before he had written his father about her. "She is the martyr of the family.... She looks after everything in the house, and yet can never do right. She is not ugly, but she is far from being beautiful. Her whole beauty consists in her dark eyes and good figure. She is not intellectual, but she has common sense enough to fulfil her duties as a wife and mother. She is not inclined to extravagance; on the contrary, she is always badly dressed, for the little her mother can do is done for the two others, never for her. True, she likes to be neat and clean, but not smart; and almost all that a woman needs she can make for herself; she understands housekeeping, has the best heart in the world—she loves me and I love her—tell me if I could wish for a better wife?" The father was sorely vexed. He saw poverty and "starving brats." He disapproved of the Weber family. With reluctance he finally sent the parental blessing. The wedding was simple, and the supper was given by the Baroness von Waldstädten, a famous pianist, and a woman of unsavory reputation. The income of the newly-married couple was precarious and uncertain, and so it was until the divorce of death, but man and wife were very happy. They were young—Mozart was twenty-six and Constanze was about eighteen—and they took no thought of the morrow. The morning after the wedding the Abbé Stadler called upon them, and he was asked to breakfast. Constanze in her marriage dress made the fire and prepared the coffee, and with laughter they thus began their married life, without money and with a carelessness that bordered on recklessness. To Constanze even this pinched life was a relief, for she had long suffered from the intolerance of a drunken mother. Mozart's love for his wife was town talk. Kelly, the English tenor, in later years, spoke of "the passionate love" of the composer. He told her everything, even his faults and sins, and she was ever tender and faithful. She was not unmusical; in fact she played and sang, and was especially fond of fugues. She told him stories while he worked. She cut his meat for him at table. As she was not robust, he, in turn, was most careful of her health, and often denied himself that she might be more comfortable. There are German romances in existence that deal with alleged love episodes in the life of Mozart, and in which he is represented as often unfaithful to his wife. Grave historians have not thought it an unworthy task to examine the current scandals of his life in Vienna. It is true that the manners and customs of the Viennese were free and easy. It was an age of gallantry. It is not improbable that he was exposed to many temptations. At the same time the looseness of his life was grossly exaggerated, and specific charges that were made are now known to be legends. Hummel, who lived in Mozart's house as a pupil, wrote in 1831: "I declare it to be untrue that Mozart abandoned himself to excess, except on those rare occasions when he was enticed by Schikaneder."

THE MOZART FAMILY.C. de Carmontelle del.Delafosse, Sculp. 1764.

THE MOZART FAMILY.

C. de Carmontelle del.Delafosse, Sculp. 1764.

Discouraged by the parsimony of the Emperor, failing in his endeavor to become the teacher of the Princess Elizabeth, and believing himself to be unappreciated, Mozart determined to leave Vienna and turned towards France and England. At this time he was chiefly known in Vienna as a pianoforteplayer. It was not until the appearance of the "Magic Flute" that he was recognized there as a great operatic composer, and then it was too late. The father, however, opposed the plans of his son, and he even wrote to the Baroness von Waldstädten urging her to reason with Wolfgang, and adding, "What is there to prevent his having a prosperous career in Vienna, if only he has a little patience?" And so Mozart stayed in Vienna. He gave lessons, which were apt to be of a desultory nature. He gave concerts in the Augarten which was frequented by the fashionable people. He gave concerts in the theatre and in different halls, and his own music was performed with great success. His concertos and his playing were cheered to the echo by the Emperor and the nobility. His old love Aloysia sang at one of these concerts, and Gluck sat in a box and applauded. It is not true that at this time Mozart was unappreciated by the public or that the public was not willing to pay money for the pleasure of hearing him. As a pianoforte player he was surfeited with applause. His subscription concerts were crowded. At one he received four hundred and fifty ducats; at two concerts in Prague in 1786 he received one thousand florins. He played regularly in private concerts given by members of the nobility, and it was the custom of the Viennese aristocracy to reward distinguished artists liberally. On the other hand he made but little by the publication of his compositions. Nor did he fare better in his dealings with theatrical managers. The usual payment in Vienna for an opera was one hundred ducats. Upon the whole, Mozart was probably as well treated from a pecuniary point of view as the majority of the musicians of his time. He had no head for business, and he was constantly in want of money. A few months after his marriage he was threatened with an action for non-payment of a bill. He was constantly borrowing small sums from Peter to pay Paul. His letters abound in proofs of his embarrassments. At different times he tried plans of reform; from March, 1784, until February, 1785, he kept an account book, and the entries were neatly written. But Constanze was not the housewife praised by King Lemuel.

A son was born in 1783, who died in the same year, and in the summer a visit was paid to Salzburg. A mass, which Mozart had vowed in his heart before his marriage if he succeeded in taking Constanze there as his wife, was performed; he wrote duets for violin and viola to help Michael Haydn, who was prevented by sickness from satisfying the Archbishop's command; he sketched a part of an opera, "L'Oca del Cairo." In one way the visit was a disappointment. Neither Leopold nor Marianna was really fond of Constanze, and Mozart was displeased because none of the trinkets that had been given him in his youth were offered to his wife. He returned to Vienna in October. In 1785 the father returned the visit. He wept for joy at hearing Wolfgang play the pianoforte concerto composed for the blind pianist, Marie Paradies; he heard string quartets of his son played by Haydn, Dittersdorf, Wolfgang and Vanhall; and Haydn said to him, "I assure you solemnly and as an honest man, that I consider your son to be the greatest composer of whom I have ever heard." Influenced by his son he became a Freemason. There were secret associations, brotherhoods of all descriptions, more or less closely allied to Freemasonry, throughout Germany during the latter half of the eighteenth century. Many wished to join together in fighting for liberty of conscience and independence of thought; and, as Herder, Wieland, Goethe, they saw in Freemasonry "a means of attaining their highest endeavors after universal good." In Vienna nearly all the distinguished leaders of thought were Freemasons; the lodges were fashionable, and in 1785 the Emperor Joseph placed them under the protection of the state, although he first reduced the number. It is not surprising that Mozart, with his love for humanity, his warm sympathies for all that is good and noble, should enter eagerly into masonic ties and duties. He contemplated the founding of a secret society of his own. His lodge was the oldest in Vienna, "Zur gekrönten Hoffnung," and for this lodge he wrote vocal and instrumental works, one of which, the "Trauermusik" is of great beauty and originality.

In 1784 the German opera in Vienna was almost extinct. Aloysia Lange chose Mozart's "Escape from the Seraglio" for her benefit, and the composer directed it; Gluck's "Pilgrimme von Mekka" was given, as well as Benda's melodramas. The next year it was proposed to reinstate German opera in competition with the Italian, and the scheme was carried out, but the performances were not equal to those of the Italian opera, and Mozart was not pitted by the Emperor as a native composer against the foreigner Salieri. For a festival in1786 dramatic performances were ordered in Italian and German, and Mozart wrote the music for "Der Schauspieldirector" (The Theatre Director), while Salieri was more fortunate in his text. The Italian operas were popular with the court and the people, and the better singers went over to the Italian side. Paesiello and Sarti were welcomed heartily in Vienna, and their operas received the patronage of the Emperor. Mozart's prospects as an operatic composer were gloomy, until in 1785 he was seriously benefited by his acquaintance with Lorenzo da Ponte, abbé, poet, and rake. This singular man was appointed theatrical poet by Joseph II. through the influence of Salieri. He quarreled with his benefactor, who engaged a rival as his librettist. Da Ponte looked about for a composer with whom he could join against his enemies, and he entered into negotiations with Mozart. Beaumarchais' comedy, "Le Mariage de Figaro," had finally been put on the stage of the Théâtre-Français in April, 1784; it was exciting popular attention; and Mozart wished an adaptation for his music. The adaptation would be an easy task, but the comedy itself was not allowed in the Vienna Theatre. The poet was in the good graces of the Emperor and he confided the plan to him. Joseph admitted that Mozart was a good instrumental composer, said that his opera did not amount to much, called Mozart to him, heard portions of the work, and ordered that it should be put into rehearsal immediately. If we believe the account given by Da Ponte, the whole opera wasfinishedin six weeks. There was a strong cabal, with Salieri at the head, against the production, but it was brought out May 1st and with overwhelming success. Michael Kelly, who sang the parts ofBasilioandDon Curzio, gives interesting accounts of the rehearsals and the performance in his "Reminiscences." "Never was anything more complete than the triumph of Mozart." At the second performance five pieces were repeated: at the third, seven; "one little duet had to be sung three times," we learn from a letter of Leopold Mozart. In November Martin's "Cosa Rara" pleased "the fickle public" mightily, and during 1787 and 1788 "Figaro" was not given. It was first performed in Berlin, Sept. 14, 1790: the critics praised it: the people preferred Martin and Dittersdorf. It was heard later in all the great towns of Europe (Paris, 1793; London, 1812, with Catalani asSusanna); in Prague it was heard at once and with the greatest success, and this led to "Don Giovanni."

THE MOZART FAMILY.Large oil painting by de la Croce (born 1736, a pupil of Lorenzoni), painted in 1780. The original is in the Salzburg Mozarteum and seems to have been repeatedly and unskilfully retouched.

THE MOZART FAMILY.

Large oil painting by de la Croce (born 1736, a pupil of Lorenzoni), painted in 1780. The original is in the Salzburg Mozarteum and seems to have been repeatedly and unskilfully retouched.

The success of "Figaro" was not of material benefit to Mozart in Vienna. He fretted at thenecessity of teaching; he envied Gyrowetz, who went to Italy. In 1786, a third child was born to him, Leopold, who died in the spring of the next year. His English friends urged him to go to England. He thought seriously of doing this, when he received one day a letter from the orchestra of Prague, to which the leading connoisseurs and amateurs had added their names, begging him to visit the town and see for himself the enormous success of "Figaro." Bohemia was a musical country, and at the capital music was cultivated passionately. There was an excellent school where pupils of talent were educated by the support of patrons. The members of the nobility had their orchestras, and some demanded that their servants should be musicians. "Figaro" was played by the Bondini Italian company throughout the winter of 1786-7, and the public enthusiasm was unbounded. The opera was turned into chamber music. It was arranged for all combinations of instruments. It was sung in the streets; it was whistled at street corners. Mozart with his wife arrived in Prague in January, 1787, and they were entertained by Count Thun. His visit was one of unalloyed happiness. He saw the beauties of Prague "hopping about to the music of 'Figaro' turned into waltzes and country dances. The people talked of nothing but 'Figaro.'" In the theatre he was welcomed with uproarious applause. His two concerts were in every way successful. And here he amused himself, doing little work, until Bondini made a contract with him by which Mozart agreed to give him an opera for the next season for one hundred ducats.

Naturally he thought at once of Da Ponte, and Da Ponte suggested the legend of Don Juan Tenorio y Salazar, Lord of Albarren and Count of Maraña. This story had already attracted the attention of mask-makers and comedy-writers innumerable, among them Molière, Shadwell, Goldoni; and Gluck and Righini, Tritto and Gazzaniga had set it to music, as ballet,dramma tragicomico, or opera buffa. Da Ponte had made his fortune by the text of "Figaro," and when he began the libretto for Mozart he was also at work on texts for Martin and Salieri. He went from one story to the other, with snuff-box and bottle of tokay before him, and the pretty daughter of his hostess by his side. "Don Giovanni" and Martin's "L'Arbore di Diana" were finished in sixty-three days. We know little or nothing of Mozart's methods in writing the music of the work. His thematic catalogue shows that from March till September few other important works were written, and the greatest of these are the string quintets in C major and G minor. His father died in May, and Mozart's grief may well be imagined. "Next to God is papa" showed the depth of his love. In September Mozart took his wife and boy to Prague. He worked in the vineyard of his old friend Duschek, and his friends talked or played at bowls. German essayists and novelists invented many stories, which reflect with discredit upon Mozart's morality during this visit to Prague, and these stories, without real foundation, were for a long time accepted as facts. He is said, for instance, to have been violently in love with the women who sang at the theatre; and continual intoxication is the mildest charge brought against him. Teresa Saporiti, the "Donna Anna," said when she first saw him, "This illustrious man has a most insignificant face," and yet their amorous adventures were long taken for granted. Nor do we know whether the many traditions are only traditions; such as his writing "La ci darem" five times before he could satisfy the singers; Bassi's anger, and other tales. The overture was unwritten the very evening before the day of performance. His wife mixed punch for him and told him stories, "Cinderella," "Aladdin" and tales of wonder and enchantment. Little by little, he grew sleepy as he worked. The head would droop in spite of the efforts of Scheherazade. At last he rested on the sofa, and at five o'clock Constanze aroused him. The copyist came at seven; and the orchestra played the overture at sight from wet sheets when October 29, 1787, "Don Giovanni" was first heard by an enthusiastic public. The opera was an unqualified success. Mozart stayed in Prague long enough to write a concert aria for Madame Duschek, although she was obliged to lock him in a summer-house to get it; shortly after his return to Vienna Gluck died, and December 7th he was appointed Chamber Musician by Joseph. "Don Giovanni" was not given in Vienna until May 7, 1788, and it was a failure. The Emperor is reported to have said, "The opera is divine, perhaps even more beautiful than 'Figaro,' but it will try the teeth of my Viennese." And Mozart said, "We will give them time to chew it." It was first given in Berlin, Dec. 20, 1790; Paris, 1805, in a wretched version; London, in April, 1817. In 1825 Garcia, with his daughters, was in New York; he met Da Ponte there, and at the suggestion of the latter "Don Giovanni" was given. After it had made its way in Germany, it was regarded as his masterpiece, and Mozart is reported to have said that he wrote it not at all for Vienna, a little for Prague, but mostly for himself and friends.

BRONZE STATUE OF MOZART, IN THE LUXEMBOURG.By the Sculptor Barrias.

BRONZE STATUE OF MOZART, IN THE LUXEMBOURG.

By the Sculptor Barrias.

But the opera did not help him pecuniarily. He was in constant need of money. He was not idle, however; the great symphonies in E-flat major, G minor and C major were written in the summer months of 1788; he prepared the music for the masked balls; he wrote compositions for the pleasure of his pupils; and, at the instigation of Van Swieten, who was an enthusiastic admirer of Handel, he prepared "Acis and Galatea," "The Messiah," "Ode for St. Cecilia's Day," and "Alexander's Feast" for performance by strengthening the instrumentation. He also directed them (1788-1790). In 1789 he was invited by Prince Lichnowsky to visit him in Berlin; he gladly accepted the invitation, thinking he might better his condition. They stopped at Prague; at Dresden, where he played before the Court, and at Leipsic, where he played the organ and heard a Bachmotet. At Potsdam Mozart was presented to the King, Frederick William II., who was an enlightened patron of music. He played upon the 'cello and was a man of very catholic taste. The opera stage was free to Italian, French and German composers. The orchestra in which the king often played at rehearsals was directed by Duport; the opera by Reichardt, the musician and journalist. Neither of these men looked upon Mozart's appearance in Berlin with favor, and they were none the sweeter to him when he replied to the King's question concerning the performances of the orchestra: "It contains the best virtuosos, but if the gentlemen would play together, it would be an improvement." The King offered him the position of Kapellmeister, at a salary of three thousand thalers; but Mozart would not leave his Emperor. He made a short visit to Leipsic for a benefit concert which hardly paid the expenses of the journey. On his return to Berlin he heard his "Seraglio." In a certain passage, the second violins played D sharp instead of D, and Mozart cried out angrily, "Damn it, play D, will you?" And here it is reported that he became enamored of Henriette Baranius, a singer of remarkable beauty. The boy Hummel, his pupil, gave a concert in Berlin, and was overjoyed to see him in the audience. Just before Mozart's departure in May, the King sent him one hundred friedrichsdor, and wished that he would write quartets for him. Constanze received a letter in which her husband said that she must be glad to see him, not the money he brought.

In June, 1789, Mozart worked at the quartets promised to the King. He furnished the one in D major in a month, and received a gold snuff-box with one hundred friedrichsdor. But he was poor, in debt, his wife was often sick, and he wrote in July that he was most unhappy. In December he worked busily on an opera, "Cosi fan tutte," which the Emperor had requested, and Jan. 26, 1780, it was produced with success, although it was not often given. Joseph II. died the 20th of February, and Leopold II. reigned in his stead. Mozart could expect but little of him, and when King Ferdinand of Naples visited Vienna in September, the greatest virtuoso of the town was not asked to play before him, although the royal visitor was passionately fond of music. Meanwhile his expenses were increasing, his pupils falling off. In September he pawned his silver plate to pay the passage, and went to Frankfort to attend the coronation of the Emperor. He gave a concert there, and played two of his own concertos. He went to Mayence, where he is said to have had a love-scrape, then to Munich, where at the request of the Elector he played before the King of Naples. Soon after his return to Vienna he said good-bye for ever to his dear friend Haydn, who went with Salomon to England. He was sore distressed. The position of second Kapellmeister was refused him, and the position of assistant to Hoffmann, the cathedral Kapellmeister, which was granted by the magistrates at his request, "without pay for the present," depended upon the death of Hoffmann, who outlived him. In the midst of his troubles he fell in with strange company, and among his associates was Emanuel Johann Schikaneder, a wandering theatre director, poet, composer, and play-actor. Restless, a bore, vain, improvident, and yet shrewd, he was not without good qualities that had before this won him the friendship of Mozart. In 1791 he was sorely embarrassed. He was the director of the Auf der Wieden, a little theatre, no better than a booth, where comic operas were played and sung. On the verge of failure, he had one thingto console him,—a fairy drama which he had made out of "Lulu, or the Enchanted Flute," a story by Wieland. He asked Mozart to write the music for it; and Mozart, pleased with thescenario, accepted, and said, "If I do not bring you out of your trouble, and if the work is not successful, you must not blame me; for I have never written magic music." Schikaneder knew the ease with which Mozart wrote; and he also knew that it was necessary to keep watch over him, that he might be ready at the appointed time. As Mozart's wife was then in Baden, the director found the composer alone, and he put him in a little pavilion, which was in the midst of a garden near his theatre. And in this pavilion and in a room of the casino of Josephdorf the music of "The Magic Flute" was written. Mozart was in a melancholy mood when he began his task, but Schikaneder drove away his doleful dumps by surrounding him with the gay members of the company. There was merry eating, there was clinking of glasses, there was the laughter of women. Here is the origin of many of the exaggerated stories concerning Mozart's dissipated habits. It was long believed that he was then inspired by the melting eyes of the actress Gerl; a story that probably rests on no better foundation than the Mrs. Hofdaemmel tragedy, which even Jahn thought worthy of his attention. "The Magic Flute" was given Sep. 30, at the Auf der Wieden theatre. The composer led the first two performances. The opera at first disappointed the expectations of the hearers, and Mozart was cut to the quick. The opera soon became the fashion, thanks to Schikaneder's obstinacy, so that the two hundredth representation was celebrated in Vienna in October, 1795. It was translated into Dutch, Swedish, Danish, Polish, Italian. It was given in Paris in 1801, under the name of "The Mysteries of Isis"; it was first heard in London in 1811, in Italian.

ONE OF THE SEVERAL HOUSES IN VIENNA IN WHICH MOZART LIVED.

One evening in July a strange man called on Mozart with a strange errand. He was tall, gaunt, haggard in face, solemn in demeanor: a fantastic apparition, dressed completely in grey, or, as some affirm in black; such a character as might have appeared to Hoffmann when in the black and dark night, surrounded by spirits of his own conjuring, he wrote wild tales. The visitor gravely handed him an anonymous letter sealed in black, which begged him to write a Requiem as soon as possible, and asked the price. Mozart named 50 ducats, some say 100; the visitor paid the sum, and as Mozart did not name the time for the completion of the work, the unknown man left him, saying, "I shall return, when it is time." The mystery has been solved. The stranger was Leutgeb, the steward of Count Franz von Walsegg of Stuppach;the Count was in the habit of ordering thus mysteriously compositions from different musicians; he would copy them and have them performed as his own; the requiem was ordered in memory of his late wife; and it was sung as Walsegg's work under his direction Dec. 14, 1793. But Mozart knew nothing of the patron or the steward, and he grew superstitious. In the middle of August he received a commission to write a festival opera for the celebration of the coronation of Leopold II. as King of Bohemia in Prague. The subject was Metastasio's "Clemenza di Tito." The music was written hurriedly and first performed Sept. 6. It was not successful; the Empress is said to have spoken bitterly concerning theporcheriaof German music. Just as he was stepping into the carriage for his journey to Prague, the thin and haggard man suddenly appeared and asked him what would become of the Requiem. Mozart made his excuses. "When will you be ready?" said Leutgeb. "I swear that I shall work on it unceasingly when I return." "Good," said the solemn stranger, "I rely on your promise." And as soon as the "Magic Flute" was completed and performed Mozart worked eagerly on the Requiem. He postponed his lessons, giving as an excuse that he had a work on hand which lay very near his heart, and until it was finished he could think of nothing else. He had become subject to fainting fits, and in Prague he was not at all well. He became gloomy and superstitious. He thought some one had poisoned him, and indeed, for a long time it was believed foolishly by some that Salieri had hastened his death. He told Constanze that he was writing the Requiem for himself. There was a slight improvement for a time, and Mozart worked on the Requiem, which had been taken away from him, and finished a Masonic cantata. The last of November his feet and hands began to swell; he vomited violently; and he was melancholy in mind. The 28th his condition was critical and his doctor consulted with the chief physician at the hospital. The "Magic Flute" was now successful; he was certain of an annual income of one thousand florins contributed by some of the Hungarian nobility; and of a larger sum each year from Amsterdam in return for the production of a few compositions exclusively for the subscribers; but it was too late. The day before his death he said to Constanze, "I should like to have heard my 'Magic Flute' once more," and he hummed feebly the bird-catcher's song. In the afternoon he had the Requiem brought to his bed, and he sang the alto part. At the first measures of the "Lacrimosa," he wept violently and laid the score aside. Mrs. Haible came in the evening and Mozart said, "I am glad you are here; stay with me to-night, and see me die." She tried to reason with him, and he answered. "I have the flavor of death on my tongue: I taste death. Who will support my dearest Constanze if you do not stay with her?" The story of his ending as told by Otto Jahn is most pathetic. Mrs. Haible went to the priests of St. Peter's and begged that one might be sent to Mozart, as if by chance. They refused for a long time, and it was with difficulty she persuaded "these clerical barbarians" to grant her request. When she returned, she found Süssmayer at Mozart's bedside, in earnest conversation over the Requiem. "Did I not say that I was writing the Requiem for myself?" said he looking at it through his tears. "And he was so convinced of his approaching death that he enjoined his wife to inform Albrechtsberger of it before it became generally known, in order that he might secure Mozart's place at the Stephanskirche, which belonged to him by every right." The physician finally came; he was found in the theatre, where he waited until the curtain fell. He saw there was no hope; cold bandages were applied to the head; and then came delirium and unconsciousness. Mozart was busy with his Requiem. He blew out his cheeks to imitate the trumpets and the drums. About midnight he raised himself, opened his eyes wide, then seemed to fall asleep. He died at one o'clock, Dec. 5th. There was but little money in the house. The funeral expenses (third-class) amounted to 8 fl., 36 kr., and there was an extra charge of three florins for the hearse. In the afternoon of the 6th the body was blessed. There was a fierce storm raging, and no one accompanied the body to the grave. The body was put into a common vault, which was dug up about every ten years. No stone was put above his resting-place, and no man knows his grave. Constanze was left with two children and about sixty florins ready money. The outstanding accounts and personal property hardly amounted to five hundred florins. There were debts to be paid. She gave a concert, and with the assistance of the Emperor the proceeds were sufficient to pay them. In 1809 she married GeorgeNissen and was comfortable until 1842, the year of her death. Karl, the elder son of Mozart, pianist-merchant, died in Milan in a subordinate official position. Wolfgang, born July 26, 1791, appeared in public in 1805; he afterward was a musical director and composer in Lemberg and Vienna; he died in Carlsbad in 1844. A statue was erected to Mozart in Salzburg in 1842, and one was raised in Vienna in 1859. The hundredth anniversary of his birth was celebrated throughout Germany, and that of his death throughout the world.

HOUSE IN VIENNA WHERE MOZART DIED.Formerly at No. 934 Raubensteingasse. Building destroyed.

HOUSE IN VIENNA WHERE MOZART DIED.

Formerly at No. 934 Raubensteingasse. Building destroyed.

The face of Mozart has been idealized. The authentic portraits coincide with the descriptions of his contemporaries. He was small, thin, and pale; with a large head and a large nose; eyes well shaped, but short-sighted, although he never wore spectacles; he had plenty of fine hair, of which he was proud, and he was vain of his hands and feet; he dressed carefully and elegantly, and was fond of jewelry. He rode horseback, and took great pleasure in playing billiards, bowls, and in dancing. He was very fond of punch, of which beverage Kelly saw him take "copious draughts." His prevailing characteristics were amiability, generosity, and a warm appreciation of all that was good and noble in music or mankind. His generosity was strikingly shown when, in the darkest hours of need, he offered to take care of Mariana until her betrothed had found the position necessary for marriage. It was no doubt often abused by such scapegraces as Stadler and Schikaneder. He poured out his affection on the members of his household. He associated freely, and apparently with equal enjoyment, with aristocrats, learned men, members of the orchestra, singers, and loungers in the taverns. He was full of fun, and he dearly loved a joke; he delighted in doggerel rhymes. His intercourse with musicians was as a rule friendly, and he seldom spoke ill of his neighbors. Gluck appreciated him as much as Salieri envied him, but he and Mozart were never intimate, although they dined together and paid each other compliments. Kozeluch and other small fry hated him, and they also hated Haydn. His relations with Paisiello, Sarti and Martin were most friendly; and nothing perhaps illustrates more clearly the sweetness of Mozart's nature than his immortalizing a theme from Martin's "Cosa rara," an opera which had prevailed against his "Figaro," by introducing it in the second finale of "Don Giovanni." He praised Pleyel, sympathized with Gyrowetz, foresaw the greatness of Beethoven, mourned the death of Linley, and loved Haydn.

In his youth he showed a fondness for arithmetic, and in later years he was a ready reckoner. Hehad an unmistakable talent for the languages; he understood the French, English, and Italian tongues. He was acquainted with Latin; he had read the works of excellent authors; he even wrote poetry, but as a manner of jesting. He was not without knowledge of history. He drew with skill. His letters are full of charm, and Nissen regretted that a man who used his pen so cleverly had not written concerning his art. The reply to this is simple, namely, that Mozart was too busy in making music to write about it. This most honest and amiable of men loved animals, and birds were particularly dear to him.

Whatever his religious convictions may have been after he reached man's estate, he wrote to his father, on hearing of his illness, as follows: "As death, strictly speaking, is the true end and aim of our lives, I have for the last two years made myself so well acquainted with this true, best friend of mankind, that his image no longer terrifies, but calms and consoles me. And I thank God for giving me the opportunity of learning to look upon death as the key that unlocks the gate of true bliss." The man as seen in his life and letters was simple, true, averse to flattery and sycophancy, generous, and eminently lovable.

Fac-simile of a letter from Mozart to his publisher, Hofmeister

MONUMENT TO MOZART IN VIENNA CEMETERY

Chorus by Mr. Wolfgang Mozart 1765.Leopold Mozart brought his children Wolfgang (aged 8) and Maria Anna (aged 13), in April, 1764, to London, on a concert tour. The exhibition of these wonder-children lasted till July, 1765. Before leaving, the party visited the British Museum, which was opened to the public six years before (on the 15th January, 1759). On this occasion Wolfgang was requested to leave the Institution some manuscripts of his compositions. Mozart complied, and among the manuscripts left was this, his first effort in Choral-writing, and the only one composed on an English text. The father received the following acknowledgment:—SIR:—I am ordered by the Standing Committee of the Trustees of the British Museum, to signify to You, that they have received the present of the Musical performances of Your very ingenious Son, which You were pleased lately to make Them, and to return You their Thanks for the same.M. MALY,Secretary.British Museum,July 19, 1765.

Chorus by Mr. Wolfgang Mozart 1765.

Leopold Mozart brought his children Wolfgang (aged 8) and Maria Anna (aged 13), in April, 1764, to London, on a concert tour. The exhibition of these wonder-children lasted till July, 1765. Before leaving, the party visited the British Museum, which was opened to the public six years before (on the 15th January, 1759). On this occasion Wolfgang was requested to leave the Institution some manuscripts of his compositions. Mozart complied, and among the manuscripts left was this, his first effort in Choral-writing, and the only one composed on an English text. The father received the following acknowledgment:—

SIR:—I am ordered by the Standing Committee of the Trustees of the British Museum, to signify to You, that they have received the present of the Musical performances of Your very ingenious Son, which You were pleased lately to make Them, and to return You their Thanks for the same.

M. MALY,Secretary.

British Museum,July 19, 1765.

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LAST PORTRAIT OF MOZART.Painted by his brother-in-law Lange in 1791. The head is finished, but not the coat.

LAST PORTRAIT OF MOZART.

Painted by his brother-in-law Lange in 1791. The head is finished, but not the coat.

In considering the compositions of this man, who died before he was thirty-six, and spent much time in travel, the most superficial investigator must be struck by the mere number. There are 20 dramatic works; 2 oratorios, a funeral hymn, 3 cantatas, and the reinstrumentation of 4 oratorios by Handel; 66 vocal pieces with orchestral accompaniments; 23 canons and a collection of songs; 48 pieces for the church, and 20 masses, including the Requiem, which however was probably completed by Süssmayer; 22 pianoforte sonatas and fantasias; 17 organ sonatas, 16 variations for bugle and pianoforte, 23 little pieces, and 11 sonatas and pieces for four hands on two pianofortes; 45 sonatas for violin and pianoforte; 8 trios, 2 quartets and 1 quintette for pianoforte and strings; for strings alone there are 3 duos, 3 trios, 29 quartets, 8 quintets; then there are 2 quartets with flute, 1 with oboe, 1 quintet with horn; 10 concertos for violin, 1 for two violins, 1 for violin and viola, 28 for the pianoforte, 1 for two pianofortes, 1 for three pianofortes, 1 for bassoon, 1 for oboe, 4 for flute and 1 for flute and harp, 5 for horn, 1 for clarinet,—in all 55; in dance music there is one gavotte, 39 contradances, 56 waltzes, 96 minuets, a pantomime and a ballet; there are 27 different pieces of instrumental music, as marches, adagios, etc., 33 divertissements, serenades or cassations, all pieces of long breath, including each from 10 to 12 movements; there are 49 symphonies. These authentic works, accepted by Köchel, number in all 769 compositions. Then when one reflects on the quality of the music and its artistic value, when one finds in nearly each work the traces at least of genius, and reflects that a third of them are masterpieces, he begins to realize the might of the man. He was naturally the most spontaneous of musicians, and in this respect—in pure creation—without doubt the greatest of them all. Rarely are seen such fecundity and such versatility. Unlike Handel, when a work was finished, it was finished; it did not enter again into another composition. The charge of plagiarism was never brought against him except in one instance: the religious march in "Idomeneus" was traced by a friend to the march in Gluck's "Alceste." He wrote as though he could not help it. Jumping from the bed, he ran to the pianoforte. The barber found him restless. His mind was preoccupied at table. In travel, the landscape, the very motion of the carriage stimulated his imagination. He was constantly jotting down his thoughts on scraps of paper. Much of his greatest music was composed, even in detail, in his head before he took his pen. The conversation of his friends, noises in the house or street did not distract him. His faculty of concentration was incredibly developed, and Constanze said that he wrote his scores as though he were writing a letter. And so his inspiration, as shown in the hasty composition of the "Don Giovanni" overture, reminded Victor Wilder of the saying of the first Napoleon: "Inspiration is only the instantaneous solution of a long meditated problem."

In examining the works themselves, many of them must be passed over without notice. Some were written for special occasions; some, for combinations of instruments, that no longer, or rarely, are heard in concert-halls; and it would be idle to assert that all his works are equally worthy of respect. The complete collection of the writings of even such a genius as Voltaire contains dreary pages and frivolous opinions. Let us examine more particularly his pianoforte music, the chamber music, such as the string quartets and quintets; the symphonies; the religious music; and the operas, looking at the works themselves, comparing them with that which was contemporaneous, and observing the influence on the musicians that followed him. The songs, with the exception of the "Veilchen" (The Violet), were set to meaningless words and are not to be ranked with the best of his compositions; but this same"Violet" in its lyrical-dramatic setting pointed the way to the after glory of the German song as seen in Schubert, Schumann and Franz. And nearly all of the concert-arias written for special singers and for special use seem to-day a little antiquated, and cast in the old and traditional mould. As Mozart first was known as a pianoforte player, let us first look at his writings for that instrument. (I use the term pianoforte throughout this article, following the example of Rubinstein, who, in his "Conversation on Music" (1892), speaks of compositions for Clavecin, Clavichord, Clavi-cymbal, Virginal, Spinett, etc., "as written for pianoforte, as to-day we can only perform them on this instrument.")

There is no doubt but that Mozart was the greatest pianoforte player of his time. The testimony in his favor is overwhelming. His hands were small and well-shaped, and some of his hearers wondered that he could do so much with them. He had elaborated an admirable system of fingering, which he owed to the careful study of Bach, whose pianoforte music he had played from a very early age. He regarded good fingering as the basis of expressive playing. He insisted that the player should have "a quiet, steady hand," and that the passages should "flow like oil"; he therefore objected to all bravura feats that might be detrimental to "the natural ease and flexibility." He was vexed by exaggerations of tempos, by over-rapidity of execution, by sentimental rubatos. He demanded correctness, "ease and certainty, delicacy and good taste, and above all the power of breathing life and emotion into the music and of so expressing its meaning as to place the performer for the moment on a level with the creator of the work before him." It is hard for men of another generation to gain an idea of the qualities of the virtuosoship of the pianist that moved and thrilled the audiences of his time. We must take the word of his hearers. Clementi declared that he never heard any one play so intellectually and gracefully as Mozart. Rochlitz waxed enthusiastic over the brilliancy and "the heart-melting tenderness of his execution;" Dittersdorf praised the union of art and taste; and Haydn, with tears in his eyes, could not forget his playing, because it came from the heart. Unfortunately we can not estimate his virtues as a player from his works, for all that heard him agree that his improvising was the crowning glory of his art. Variations on a well-known theme were in fashion, and the variations were often improvised. The published variations of Mozart are light and pleasing; he did not care for them, and they were written, no doubt, for the entertainment of his pupils or his friends. Of the three rondos, the one in A minor (1787) is very original and of exquisite beauty, and is a favorite to-day in concert-halls. The fantasia in C minor (1785) is an important work. Five movements, in various keys and tempos are bound together, and though each is in a measure independent, the sections seem to follow each other inevitably. The harmonies are daring, when the date of its composition is considered, and the mood, theStimmung, is modern in its melancholy and doubt. In treating the sonata form Mozart was the successor of Ph. Em. Bach and Haydn.

Whether his sonatas of the Vienna period are solo or accompanied by other instruments, they have only three movements. He first sought beauty of melody, for song was to him the foundation, the highest expression of music. Therefore the themes were carefully sung, and the second subject was made of more importance by him than by his predecessors. Often the chief effect in his sonata movements as in his concertos is gained by the delivery of a sustained melody, and these melodies written for his own hands show the influence of the peculiar characteristics of his own performance. Frequently in the elaboration of the themes he introduced new melodies, so that we find Dittersdorf complaining of the prodigality of the composer, who "gives his hearers no time to breathe." When he used polyphony, it was not to display pedantry but to accentuate the beauty of the themes.

The slow middle movements are in song form, and are full of emotion and tender grace; eminently spontaneous, and coming from the heart. The final movements are generally the weakest. They show the facility with which he wrote, and their gayness often approaches triviality. Passing over the pianoforte compositions for two performers and for two pianofortes—not that they are unworthy of attention— we come to the sonatas with violin accompaniment, which, during the Vienna period, were, many of them, written for pupils. They are characterized by beautiful melodies and bold harmonies rather than by any great depth or exhibition of scholarship. The violin part is independent, and not an accompaniment, as was usual at the time. The trios or terzets for pianoforte, violin and 'cellowere chiefly written for amateurs to play in musical parties. Violoncellists of any force were rare in these circles, and it is not unlikely that this was a serious hindrance to Mozart's further development of the trio. Far greater in breadth of design and in thematic elaboration are the two pianoforte quartets (1785 and 1786). The trios were written for social purposes, and brilliancy was perhaps too much cultivated; but in these quartets passion enters, strong and fierce and bitter. In 1784 Mozart wrote his father that his quintet in E-flat major for pianoforte, oboe, clarinet, horn, and bassoon, which was received with great applause in a concert given by him in the theatre, was the best thing he had ever written, and he chose it to play before Paesiello. It is certainly a composition of remarkable beauty, not so much on account of its thematic invention as for its intimate knowledge of the peculiarities of the different instruments and for the balance of euphony preserved throughout. The pianoforte concertos, of which seventeen were written in Vienna, were, as a rule, intended for his own concert use. He described the first three as "a happy medium between too easy and too difficult." He added in this letter to his father, that "even ignoramuses will be pleased with them without knowing why." Two years later (1784) he wrote, "I cannot make a choice between the two concertos in B-flat and D. Either one will make the player sweat." The distinguishing merit of these compositions for pianoforte and orchestra, unjustly neglected in these days, is the combination of the two different forces, while these forces at the same time preserve their individuality. Instead of a duel to the death between the instrument and the orchestra, there is a generous appreciation of the qualities and limitations of the pianoforte, which in Mozart's time was still weak in mechanism. Therefore one gives way to the other for the effect of the whole. The orchestra enters not to crush but to support. Often the pianoforte part seems absurdly simple, but a closer investigation will show that this simplicity is most artfully designed and intended. Seldom are important themes given to the pianoforte or orchestra alone; they are shared generously. And no words can reproduce the colors of the orchestral tone-paintings, or describe the marvelous results gained by simple means and an unerring instinct. The first movements are in the sonata form, but there is a certain freedom, and the proportions are on a larger scale. There is a cadenza, invariable, at the conclusion, and Mozart in his concerts excited wonder by his improvisations. The cadenzas published were for the use of pupils. The second movement is in song-form, full of sentiment, often romantic, the expression of temperament; the song is sometimes varied. The last movement is generally in rondo form, and the influence of the dance is strongly marked. These movements are gay and graceful, and occasionally there is a touch of Haydn's humor. The greatest of these concertos are perhaps those in D minor (K. 466), C (467), C minor (491) and in C (503). Nor among his pianoforte works must the two pieces originally written for a musical clock be forgotten, which are only now known by a four-hand arrangement. The pianoforte works of Mozart are much neglected in these days, and most unjustly. It is the fashion to call them simple and antiquated. But the best of the concertos and the sonatas make severe demands upon the mechanism and taste of the pianist; the apparent simplicity is often a stumbling block to him that eyes them askew; and only by an absolute mastery of the mechanism controlled by temperament can the song be sung as Mozart heard it, so that the hearer may forget the box of cold keys and jingling wires.

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