Dearest father! – I assure you that if it weren’t for the pleasure of embracing you soon, I’d certainly not be returning to Salzburg! – Apart from this praiseworthy and genuinely beautiful urge, I am in fact committing the greatest folly in the world; – believe me when I say that these are my own private thoughts and are not borrowed from other people; – when they knew of my decision to leave, people opposed it, of course, with truths that I was incapable of resisting and defeating with any other weapons save my true and tender love for my beloved father, for which people could naturally do nothing but praise me, while adding that if my father knew of my present circumstances and excellent prospects – and if he hadn’t been differently and, indeed, falsely informed by a certain good friend – he would most certainly not have written to me in such terms that I was utterly incapable of resisting; – and I thought to myself that if I’d not had to put up with so much annoyance at the house where I was lodging and if one thing hadn’t led to another like a series of thunderclaps, with the result that I’d no time to consider the matter in cold blood, I’d definitely have asked you to be patient for a little while longer and let me stay in Paris, where, I assure you, I’d have gained honour, reputation and money – and would certainly have got you out of debt; – but now the thing is done; don’t for a minute think that I regret it; – for only you, dearest father, only you can sweeten for me the bitter pill that is Salzburg; and you’ll do so; I’m convinced of that; but I freely admit that I’d arrive in Salzburg with a lighter heart if I didn’t know that I’ll be in the service of the court; – this thought alone is intolerable to me! – Consider it yourself – put yourself in my position; – in Salzburg I don’t know who I am – I’m everything – and sometimes nothing at all – I’m not asking for a lot – but nor am I asking for very little– I just want something – as long as I’m something– everywhere else I know what I am – everyone else, if he’s placed with the violins, sticks to it; – it’s the same with the keyboard etc. – But we’ll sort something out, – I just hope it all works out to my own good fortune and contentment; – I rely on you entirely; –
Things are in a poor way here – but the day after tomorrow, Saturday the 17th, I’m giving a subscription concert all by myself– so that I have no expenses – in order to please a few kind friends – music lovers and connoisseurs; – if I had an orchestra, it would cost me more than 3 louis d’or, including lighting, and who knows if we’ll bring in as much as that; – I’m indebted to you for such excellent arrangements to cover the cost of my journey, I don’t think I’ll need it even if I don’t give a concert; – but just to be on the safe side I’ll withdraw a few louis d’or here or in Augsburg as you never know what may happen – meanwhile farewell; I’ll write more next time – my sonatas can’t have been engraved yet, although they were promised for the end of September1 – that’s what happens if you’re not there in person – and again it’s Grimm’s obstinacy that’s to blame – they’re quite likely to turn out full of mistakes as I wasn’t able to look through them myself but had to entrust the task to someone else – so I may find myself in Munich without these sonatas; – something that seems so slight can often bring us happiness, honour and money, but it can also bring us disgrace; – well, adieu; – I embrace my dearest sister with all my heart and you, my dearest, most beloved father, I kiss in the flattering hope of soon being able to embrace you and kiss your hands myself. I am your most obedient son
Wolfgang Amadè Mozart
Best wishes to the whole of Salzburg, but especially to our dear and true friend Herr Bullinger.
97. Leopold Mozart to his son, 19 November 1778, Salzburg1
Mon très cher Fils,
I really don’t know what to say – I shall lose my senses or succumb to some wasting disease. It’s simply impossible for me to remember all the projects that you’ve thought up and communicated to me since leaving Salzburg, without losing my reason. They all boiled down to suggestions, empty words and ultimately nothing whatever. Since 26 Sept. I’d been consoling myself with the hope that I’d have the pleasure of seeing you in Salzburg on your name day,2 but then had to endure my first taste of mortal anguish when you wrote from Nancy on the 3rd, saying that you were going to Strasbourg the next day, the 4th, only for the Frank brothers to write to me on the 9th to announce that you’d not yet arrived there. You finally wrote to me from Strasbourg on the 14th.3 During your stay in Nancy you’d therefore been throwing your money down the drain when, instead of frittering it away needlessly, you could have spent it on a conveyance of your own and made your way more quickly to Strasbourg. You then hunkered down in Strasbourg until the rains set in, even though I’d already written to tell you that, if nothing was to be achieved there, you should leave again right away and not spend your money needlessly, and although you yourself told me that things were in a poor way there and that you’d leave immediately after giving a small concert on the 17th, people praised you– and for you that’s already enough! You remained there – without writing a single word to me, but giving me my second taste of mortal anguish as we had floods and rain here too, and only on 10 November were we wrenched from our state of anxiety by your letter of the 2nd. If, following your concert on 17 Oct., you’d left on the 19th or 20th, you’d have arrived in Augsburg before the great floods and we’d not have feared for your life and the money that was needlessly squandered in Strasbourg would still be in your pocket. We were then told that you were leaving on the 5th, or so Herr Scherz wrote to inform us. With each post day I hoped to receive news that you’d arrived in Augsburg: but I kept being told that you were not yet there – indeed, a letter of 13 Nov.4 even claimed that you wouldn’t be going there at all; and so, not having seen a letter from you until today, the 19th, I was inevitably reduced to a state of anxiety for the 3rd time as it would never for a moment have occurred to me that you’d hit on the mad idea of staying on in Mannheim, where there’s no court, but assumed that you’d been in Augsburg since the 10th at the latest – indeed, I was all the more convinced of this in that I thought you’d lose no time in going to Munich where, as I assumed when you left Nancy, you’d apply for work in connection with the Feast of St Charles.5 Was it only as a precaution that you withdrew 8 louis d’or in Strasbourg, so that you could then sit around in Mannheim? You hoped to obtain a post in Mannheim? An appointment? – – Whatever are you thinking of? –– You mustn’t accept an appointment in Mannheim or anywhere else in the world at present –, I won’t hear the word appointment. If the elector were to die today, a whole battalion of musicians who are now in Munich and Mannheim would have to set off into the world in search of a livelihood as the Duke of Zweibrücken6 himself has an orchestra of 36, and the orchestra of the elector of Bavaria and Mannheim currently costs 80,000 florins a year.
The inhabitants of Mannheim are fools if they think that the elector will leave Munich; they are flattering themselves with the hope because that’s what they want. My own information is better and more reliable – for political reasons of state alone it will never happen: – but what’s the point of all this idle gossip! The main thing is that you return to Salzburg now. I don’t want to know about the 40 louis d’or that you may perhaps be able to earn.7 Your whole plan seems to be to drive me to ruin, simply in order to build your castles in the air. You’d more than 15 louis d’or in the pocket when you left Paris.
That makes – – 165 florins
You told me that you’d made at least
7 louis d’or in Strasbourg 77 florins
8 louis d’or from Herr Scherz 88 florins
330 florins
The carriage from Paris was paid for. So that’s a fine sum for a single person, seeing that the cost of a diligence is small, proportionately speaking, of course.
In short, I have absolutely no intention of dying a shameful death, deep in debt, on your account; still less do I intend to leave your poor sister destitute; – you know as little as I do how long God will allow you to live. If
I were to write to Madame Cannabich and tell her that
on your departure I borrowed 300 florins
that in Mannheim I arranged for you to draw 200
that in Paris I paid the money that you received from
Gschwendtner 110
that I owe Baron Grimm 15 louis d’or 165
that you received 8 louis d’or in Strasbourg 88
so that in 14 months you’ve plunged me into debt to the
tune of 863 florins
if I tell her to give this information to all those people who are advising you to stay in Mannheim and tell them that I want you backin service in Salzburg for a few years because I’ll then have the prospect of paying off these debts, they’d not say a single word in an attempt to detain you but would wear completely different expressions on their faces. In short! – Until now I’ve written to you not only as a father but as a friend; I hope that on receiving this letter you will immediately expedite your journey home and conduct yourself in such a way that I can receive you with joy and not have to greet you with reproaches: indeed, I hope that, after your mother died so inopportunely in Paris, you’ll not have it on your conscience that you contributed to your father’s death, too. God be praised, I’ve not yet lost my reason – it’s incumbent on me to do what is best and see to the temporal and spiritual welfare of my children – I must answer to God for this and be strictly accountable to Him – I must pay careful heed to my own and my children’s honour. The 863 florins have to be repaid. I’m better at making plans than someone like you, who believes every flattering word. I know that I can pay off this sum in 2 years. But I can’t pay it off on my own. And you’re incapable at present of considering anything calmly: you care little for the reputation of your father who until today has not even known where to write to you for the last 2 months. In short! My debts have to be repaid, and you’ll leave on receipt of this letter. I refuse to be an object of ridicule in the town that wishes to see you, while we flattered ourselves into thinking that, as you’d not written to me for so long, you were planning to surprise me on my name day. But that would have been too great a display of affection! How could I have deserved such a thing? – – Herr Fiala has resigned his Munich appointment, although he hasn’t lost a penny of his salary – he foresees the confusion that will arise on the death of the elector. His luggage is here in my hall. A cello, 2 violins, a viola, a small crate containing music and a box.8 He and his wife will be arriving this evening by diligence. I hope to receive a letter from you very shortly, announcing that you’ve left. May God grant you a safe journey. I kiss you a million times. Expecting to see you soon, I am your father
Mzt
Your sister embraces you – and hopes to embrace you soon. Signor Ceccarelli sends his best wishes and can scarcely wait to see you again. If I had time, I’d tell you the whole story of the punishment meted out to the son for his disobedience towards his parents. Count Sigerl Lodron has had to be operated on with 3 long incisions in his side as far as the ribs, his life hangs in the balance; pitifully painful! It would take too long to describe it. It was an extraordinary operation. All the surgeons and doctors were summoned, as well as Dr Quella from Passau.9
Finding that Aloysia Weber was not in Mannheim, Mozart followed her to Munich, pursued by letters from Leopold. It is likely that he declared his love for her but was rejected.
98. Leopold Mozart to his son, 31 December 1778, Salzburg
My Dear Son,
I was very upset to read the letters from you and Monsieur Becke.1 If your tears, sadness and heartfelt anxiety have no other reason but that you doubt my love and affection for you, you may sleep peacefully – eat and drink peacefully and return home even more peacefully.
I see that you don’t really know your father. It seems from our friend’s letter that this is the main reason for your sadness: oh, I hope there is no other! For you really have no cause to fear that your welcome will not be affectionate and that the days that you spend with me and your sister will not be agreeable. Haven’t we kept postponing our autumn entertainment, which is paid for from the proceeds of our shooting competitions? And we’re still waiting for you. Don’t you realize that I myself can see the sort of life that you’re exchanging for the one you’ll be leading here – and have I not always allowed you to pursue all manner of amusements here and even arranged them for you? – And do you think I’ll do so less in the future? – And don’t I, too, need to seek entertainment and the greatest possible enjoyment in order to prolong my life and make it agreeable? But what worries me most and is bound to concern me is your lengthy absence. It’s 4 months since I received your provisional certificate of appointment – as people know that you left Paris on 26 Sept. – as they know that I’ve kept writing to say that you should come; – – as they thought that you’d be here for my name day – then for Christmas – and finally for the New Year, tell me if people aren’t saying to my face that you’re treating the prince – and, what’s worse, your own father – as a fool; and that I’d simply have to accept it if the prince took back his certificate as I know that he’s impatient about it and is bound to end up believing that I’ve been deliberately trying to make him look foolish – yet I’ve done all this only because I know for certain that, until you’re a few years older, we can hope for no better prospects, i.e., with regard to our general situation at present. You’re not helping matters by staying away any longer but are making things worse. People are being led by the nose by means of promises and the hope of things to come, until finally nothing comes of them or at best a proposition that’s impossible to accept: meanwhile one loses the real morsel while trying to catch shadows. If you were the only person involved here, you could be content to be treated like a horse that allows itself to be ridden and dutifully draws a carriage each time it is harnessed to it as long as it has a stable and some food – all the people who thinkthey’re contented as long as they have food and a room and who workhard or, even worse, idle their time away are like horses. Very well! I’ll let you get on with it! And will your father take precedence? – – You’ve been in Munich since the evening of the 25th – you wrote to me on the 29th and told me you hadn’t yet handed over the sonatas:2 but you won’t have been able to get them bound because of the holidays. Meanwhile all this will have been done. You say that I should comfort you– and I write that you should come here and comfort me, how joyfully I shall embrace you. – I’m almost going mad writing this letter, it’s New Year’s Eve, and although the door is closed, the bell keeps ringing, Pimperl is barking, Ceccarelli is shouting and gossiping and people are deafening me with their good wishes even though they can see that I’m writing and hurrying to get this off to the post and I’ve already lit the candles as it’s 5 o’clock. – The bellows blower has just this minute come to say that Gussetti has received a letter announcing that you’re coming next week, tomorrow the whole town will be telling me this as he’ll tell everyone he sees. As for the mass that you mention,3 I thought you’d been working on it little by little during your stays in Strasbourg, Mannheim and Kaisheim4 – I assumed you’d had the idea so that you’d be fully prepared when you got to Munich. But it’s now too late – – composing – copying etc. God forbid! And in the end it’s a present, of which Count Seeau will keep half. In short! I return to the point that I’m being belittled, as things have now gone too far. – No certain or good or sensible prospect – still less the prospect of anything permanent in Munich. Here you have certainty and permanence – as long as you want it – just get Monsieur Becke to read the letter that I enclosed with the one I sent you on the 28th or read it to him yourself, I hope he’ll find my opinion well justified. Mlle Moulin left for Munich this morning in her own carriage, a two-seater coach with glass windows, the coachman is bringing you a letter from me. He can wait a couple of days if you prefer to travel with him in so comfortable a coach, rather than the bone-rattling diligence, it’s all the same whether you leave on the 5th or 6th as you’d also have to tra
vel all night with the diligence. We’ll be well entertained as there are plays on at present and then there’ll be the balls: and I pray and hope that in a year we’ll be able to go to Italy as Ceccarelli intends to go there as well. I must close now, otherwise the post will leave without me! If you love your father and sister, you must also believe that they’ll do all they can to accord you every pleasure. With all our hearts we wish you a Happy New Year – oh, if only you were already here, how peacefully I’d sleep: may God grant you a safe journey, we kiss you a million times in the hope that I may soon tell you that I am your father who loves you with all his heart
Mzt
99. Mozart to his father, 8 January 1779, Munich
Mon très cher Père,
I hope you’ll have received my last letter, which I intended to give to the hired coachman but which, having missed him, I sent by post; I’ve received all your letters, including your last one of 31 December, which Herr Becke passed on to me; – I let him read my letter and he let me read his; –
I assure you, my dearest father, that I’m very much looking forward to returning to you, if not to Salzburg, because your last letter convinces me that you know me better than before! – This doubt was the only reason for my long delay in returning home – for the sadness that in the end I could no longer conceal, with the result that I opened up my whole heart to my friend Becke; – what other reason could there have been? – I’m not aware that I’ve done anything that would make me fear any reproaches; – I’ve committed no fault – by fault I mean something that ill becomes a Christian and a man of honour; – in a word, I am looking forward to and already anticipating the happiest and most agreeable days together – but only in the company of yourself and my dearest sister; –
Mozart: A Life in Letters: A Life in Letters Page 42
