CONTENTS

INTRODUCTION.

INTRODUCTION TO THE SECOND EDITION.

TRANSLATOR'S NOTE.

LIFE OF MOZART.

CHAPTER I. — CHILDHOOD

CHAPTER II. — EARLY JOURNEYS

CHAPTER III. — STUDIES IN SALZBURG

CHAPTER IV. — THE FIRST OPERA IN VIENNA

CHAPTER V. — THE ITALIAN TOUR

CHAPTER VI. — WORKS IN GERMANY

CHAPTER VII. — OPERA SERIA.

CHAPTER VIII. — MOZART'S EARLY OPERAS.

CHAPTER IX. — ORATORIO.

CHAPTER X. — OPERA BUFFA.

CHAPTER XI. — MOZART'S "RE PASTORE."

CHAPTER XII. — SONGS.

CHAPTER XIII. — CHURCH MUSIC.

CHAPTER XIV. — INSTRUMENTAL MUSIC.

CHAPTER XV. — EARLY MANHOOD.

CHAPTER XVI. — MUNICH AND AUGSBURG.

CHAPTER XVII. — MANNHEIM

FOOTNOTES

PREFACE TO THE ENGLISH EDITION. [p2]

I HAVE been asked to say a few words by way of welcome to the translation of Jahn's Life of Mozart, and I do so with pleasure. The book has been long familiar to me, and I regard its appearance in an English dress as an event in our musical history. It will be a great boon to students and lovers of music, and it shows how much the study of music has advanced among us when so large and serious a work is sufficiently appreciated to repay the heavy expense attendant on its translation and publication. The book itself is what the Germans call an "epoch-making work." The old biographies of musicians, such as Forkel's Life of Bach (1802) and Dies's of Haydn (1810), are pleasant gossipy accounts of the outward life of the composers; but they concern themselves mainly with the exterior both of the man and his productions, and there is a sort of tacit understanding throughout that if the reader is a professional musician he will know all about the music, if he is an amateur it is altogether out of his reach. Characteristic traits and anecdotes there are in plenty, but as to how the music was made or came into being, what connection existed between it and the circumstances or surroundings of the composer, what relation it had to that of his predecessors or contemporaries, how far the art was advanced by the labours of this particular composer or player—all that is outside the province of the book. Schindler's Life of Beethoven (Münster, 1840—a much smaller book than it afterwards became) was hardly more PREFACE. [p3] than this, and in addition is so deformed by want of method and by faults of style as to be very uninviting to the reader. A step in the right direction was taken in Moscheles' English translation (or rather adaptation) of Schindler (1841). Moscheles' residence in London had shown him that there was even then a public outside the professional musician to whom such works would be interesting, and he accordingly took pains, by inserting musical examples and other means, to make his edition attractive to this class. But the inherent defects of the original work prevented more than a moderate success.

The first real attempt at a biography of a composer that should interest all classes was the work of an Englishman. Edward Holmes was not only a musician, but a cultivated man with a good literary style, and his Life of Mozart, including his Correspondence (1845), was very nearly all that such a book should be. It was derived from original sources, it was full and yet condensed, it blended admirably the portrait of the man with the portrait of the musician, it contained for that time a considerable amount of musical illustrations, and lists of the works; and in addition to this it was written in a style attractive to the amateur, and even to the ordinary reader. It was largely read, and has long since been out of print.* More than this, it extorted praise from a German writer, and that a German should praise any English work on a musical subject is indeed an event. The terms of warm commendation in which Jahn mentions it in his introduction are in striking contrast to

PREFACE. [p4]

those which he employs over some other German works. He calls it an "interesting and readable biography," "a trustworthy and, as far as was then possible, exhaustive account... the most trustworthy and serviceable that could be produced by skilful use of the materials generally accessible" (pp. ix., x.). In fact, it has been said with truth that whole pages may be found in which the two works are so closely alike that the one might be thought to be a translation of the other, the probability being that both Holmes and Jahn were borrowing from the same sources.

Jahn himself enjoyed even higher advantages for his task than Holmes had done. He was not only a thorough practical musician, a careful and sympathetic critic, and a learned musical bibliographer, but he was a skilled littérateur; an adept in philology and archaeology and in the history of art and literature; the author of many original works on these subjects, and of innumerable editions of the classics, ancient and modern; and imbued with the true spirit of patient investigation and accurate research. His position, and the esteem in which he was held throughout Germany, gave him command of all the materials necessary for his work, even of the most private kind. How he entered on his task, with what true modesty and determination he pursued it, from its first suggestion, during the funeral of Mendelssohn in 1847, down to its completion in 1855,* may be seen from his own interesting and characteristic introduction (pp. i.-xxiv), as well as the pains which he took to revise his work for the second edition,** twelve years later,

PREFACE. [p5]

and utilise the additional information acquired in the interval (pp. xxv.-xxviii.).

The book which is the result of this combination of toil, intelligence, ability, knowledge, and affectionate devotion, could only have been successful by the addition to these qualities of a remarkable amount of literary tact and skill. The plan of the work is one which few English authors could by any possibility adopt. It is immense; at first sight its plan is bewildering. The book is not a Life of Mozart so much as an Encyclopaedia of musical art and biography. It opens with a minute account of Mozart's father, and of his method and his works, amounting to sixteen pages. Not only have we the narrative of the life of Mozart himself from his cradle to his grave in the smallest particulars, with a detailed examination of each work—in the case of the operas, both text and music, amounting in single operas to forty, fifty, and even ninety pages—but we have the history of the rise and progress of each branch of music that Mozart touched—and he touched them all—up to the date of his life. Witness the long notices of the Opera, the Oratorio, and Church music, and the chapter on Instrumental music in Vol. I.; the account of the French Opera, and of Lully, Rameau, Gluck, and Piccinni, in Vol. II. We have also full accounts of the social and musical condition of the various cities visited by Mozart, such as Paris, Mannheim, Salzburg, Munich, and Vienna; and biographical notices, longer or shorter, of every person with whom Mozart came into contact, or whom his biographer has occasion to mention.

Such a work may well be called an Encyclopaedia; and to have steered through this ocean of material as Jahn has PREFACE. [p6] done, never losing the thread of the narrative, and maintaining the interest in the hero throughout, implies no ordinary tact and skill; for the book is remarkably readable, and there are few pages which are not enlivened by some anecdote or lifelike touch. Nor is it less remarkable for accuracy than for the other qualities already mentioned. The writer has used it constantly for many years, and has never yet discovered a mistake of any moment. Perhaps it would have been better if the secondary treatises of which we have spoken had been relegated to Appendixes; but this is directly opposed to the German method, and we must accept the work as we have it. There are indeed already nineteen Appendixes to the original work, as follows i. Family documents. 2. Marianne Mozart. 3. Testimonials, eulogistic poems, articles, &c. 4. Dedications. 5. Mozart's letters on his journeys. 6. Text of his church music. 7. Arrangements and adaptations of ditto. 8. His cousins. 9. Mozart as a comic poet. 10. Mozart and Vogler. 11. A letter of Leopold Mozart's. 12. Mozart's letters on the death of his mother. 13. The choruses for "King Thamos." 14. The text of "Idomeneo." 15. Alterations in that opera. 16. Mozart's letters to his wife. 17. The Requiem. 18. Mozart's residences in Vienna. 19. Portraits. Of these it has been considered necessary to retain only Nos. 2, 7, and 19, which form Appendixes 1, 2, and 3 of the present edition. Another has been added: namely, a classified list of the whole of his works, according to the complete edition now in course of publication, with the references to the invaluable Catalogue of Köchel. With these exceptions the English translation is exactly in accordance with the German original.

PREFACE. [p7]

A word of special praise is due to Miss Townsend, the translator, who has performed her laborious task with great accuracy and intelligence, and has established an additional claim on the gratitude of the student by her exhaustive Index, in which the original work is very deficient.

The new branch of musical literature, founded by Holmes and Jahn, already shows some considerable monuments. Passing by the voluminous and accurate thematic catalogues of Mozart by the Ritter von Köchel (1862), of Weber by Jahns (1871), and of Beethoven and Schubert by Nottebohm (1868 and 1874), works which properly belong to a separate department of the subject—we already possess the Life of Handel by Chrysander (vol. i., 1858; II., 1860; III., 1867), that of Beethoven by A. W. Thayer (vol. i., 1866; II., 1872; III., 1879), that of Haydn by C. F. Pohl (vol. i., 1875; II., 1882)—all three still in progress—and that of Bach by Spitta (vol. i., 1873; II., 1880). But these laborious and conscientious works, while they rival and even surpass Jahn in their wide range and the manner in which they embalm every minute particular relating to the subject, are far behind him in lucidity, and in the ease with which he handles his vast materials. In these respects, as might be expected from his literary position, Otto Jahn stands hitherto quite alone.

GEORGE GROVE.

February 23, 1882.

INTRODUCTION. [i]

To Professor Gustav Hartenstein.

MY DEAR FRIEND,—I have little doubt that the afternoon of November 7, 1847, is as fresh in your memory as in my own. We had assembled in the Johan-niskirche to accompany the remains of Mendelssohn on their last sad journey, and by chance (for I had not been long in Leipzig, and my acquaintance with you was slight) we walked side by side in the long line of mourners. From grief at the early loss of a master, whose cultivation, self-discipline, and endeavours after the good and the beautiful had exercised a truly beneficial influence over the art of our age, our grave talk turned to the more particular consideration of music in itself, and to the great masters of the past! This led us to the interchange of many ideas, and to a conviction of our unanimity of principle and sentiment on most subjects. Thus, for instance, we coincided in our experience that at a certain period of our mental development Mozart's music had seemed cold and unintelligible to our restless spirits, ever soaring into the unknown, and incapable of appreciating a master whose passions in their workings are not laid bare to view, but who offers us perfect beauty victorious over turbulence and impurity. Turning to him again in later years, we are amazed alike at the wondrous wealth of his art, and at our former insensibility to it. For my own part, I confided to you how, after severe illness, which had debarred me from music for many years, it was Mozart who first gave me courage and interest to turn to it again. We agreed, also, that minds which are able to receive and appreciate art for its own sake, must yield themselves captive to Mozart, but without sacrificing their freedom to recognise all that is grand and beautiful elsewhere.

LIFE OF MOZART. [ii]

This conversation was the beginning of a more constant intercourse, leading to a friendship founded on such close agreement of principle in all matters of importance as to render it indissoluble: I have ever since, in joy or sorrow, been assured of your hearty sympathy and support.

I should be perfectly justified in offering you this book as a testimony of my love and gratitude, even if its contents concerned you less. But music has ever played so important a part in our intercourse, whether I sat beside you at the piano, or stood behind your chair, or we wandered into talk; so great a share in the book belongs to you, who have ever urged me forward with the work, sometimes (I may acknowledge it now) even unmercifully, that I can offer it in its completed form to none with more pleasure and confidence than to yourself.

And now you must give me leave to lay before you much that is on my mind concerning it. Let me imagine that I have come as of old to you and your wife for comfort and encouragement, and prepare for a long talk.

You are aware, my dear friend, how this biography originated, and how it has gradually increased to an extent which has alarmed even myself. Occupied at first only with the biography of Beethoven, I soon saw that it would be impossible to do full justice to his great and original creations without a clear survey of the life and works of Mozart, the pioneer of the musical future, as whose natural heir Beethoven attained his pre-eminent position in the history of music. The exposition would have been too comprehensive for an introduction, and I determined to arrange the ill-digested and unreadable mass of biographical material which Nissen had collected into a readable treatise on the life of Mozart, to serve as a foundation for the observations which I meant to deduce therefrom. With this end in view, I gradually amassed so large a store of materials for the story of his life and the appreciation of his works, that there rose before me the duty of erecting a new structure upon a new foundation. But before I proceed to specify the sources whence I have drawn my materials, INTRODUCTION. [iii] allow me to glance over all the biographies of Mozart hitherto published, so far as they are known to me.

Soon after Mozart's death there appeared a biographical article upon him in Schlichtegrolls Nekrolog for 1791. This is precise and trustworthy so far as it relates to the period of his childhood, and rests on the testimony of his sister; but the notices of his later years are superficial; and the judgment passed upon him as a man rests upon a preconceived and unfavourable opinion which then prevailed in Vienna partly on professional grounds, and which took such deep root that even at the present day I know not if I shall succeed in establishing the truth. It was not surprising that Mozart's widow, in order to stop the circulation of such injurious representations, should buy up an impression of this article which appeared under the title of Mozart's Life (Jos. Georg Hubeck: Gratz, 1794).

A biography which appeared the same year in Sonnleithner's Vienna Theater-Almanach (p. 94) is only an abridgment of the article in the Nekrolog; and a French translation was made by Beyle, under the noms de plume of Bombet and Stendhal, as "Lettres sur Haydn suivies d'une vie de Mozart" (Paris, 1814). An English translation of the article appeared in London, 1817, and a revised French version in Paris, 1817.

A "Life of the Imperial Kapellmeister Wolfgang Gottlieb Mozart, compiled from original sources by Franz Niemet-schek" (Prague, 1798), is founded partly on communications by the family, especially the widow, partly on personal acquaintance with Mozart: I have made use of the second edition of this work (1808). Unfortunately it does not enter into details so much as might be wished, particularly in its later portions; but all that this excellent, well-informed, and devoted friend records of Mozart is trustworthy and accurate.

Something more was to be expected from Friedrich Rochlitz, who busied himself for a considerable time in writing a biography of Mozart. He had become acquainted with him during his stay in Leipzig in 1789, and moving much in musical circles with Doles and Hiller, he was so charmed with the genius and amiability of the master, LIFE OF MOZART. [iv] that he even then carefully noted whatever appeared remarkable in their interviews.

When he afterwards proposed to prepare a life of Mozart, both the widow and the sister supplied him with anecdotes and traits of character, and the widow further (as I gather from their letters) allowed him to make use of Mozart's correspondence.

Some of the anecdotes and particulars supplied by the widow and sister or resulting from his own observation were published in the "Allgemeine Musikalische Zeitung" (A.M.Z., Vol. I., pp. 17,49,81,113,145,177,480; Vol. II., pp. 450, 493, 590), and Rochlitz often alluded in later issues to his acquaintance with Mozart; but there it remained, and I have failed to discover why he abandoned his idea of a biography. When Nissen's biography appeared he complained that he had not been called into counsel by Mosel, and was of opinion that "the widow must have changed very much in her old age, if she was not proved to have acted shabbily in this affair" (Vienna, A.M.Z., 1848, p. 209). I set on foot investigations as to whether Rochlitz had left behind any records or communications which, springing from now exhausted sources, might be of service to me in my work. This led to a discovery which, painful as it is to me to cast a slur on the memory of an otherwise deserving man, I must yet, in the interests of truth, reveal; I could not fail to observe that those particulars of Mozart's life which Rochlitz gives as the result of his own observation or as narrated to him by Mozart, are peculiar to himself in form and colouring, and that many of the circumstances which he relates with absolute certainty are manifestly untrue. I sought to account for these facts as slips of memory or the result of that kind of self-deception which confounds a logical inference with a fact springing from it. But my search led to the further discovery of a parallel (also printed in the A.M.Z.) between Mozart and Raphael, giving a detailed account of the circumstances of Mozart's marriage, and with express reference to Mozart's own narrative of the affair which Rochlitz was supposed to have written down the same night. Now for the period which is here treated of, that INTRODUCTION. [v] is, between 1780 and 1783, Mozart's entire correspondence is preserved, and any error upon essential points is, as you will readily grant, impossible. All the statements of Rochlitz as to time, place, persons, and events are completely false. You will remember my consternation at this unwelcome discovery; no poetical license could account for it; unpleasant as it is, I consider it my duty to expose the affair, partly that it may teach caution, and partly that tedious and vexatious discussion may be avoided, should the narrative in question ever be printed.

These anecdotes from the A.M.Z., together with the information of Schlichtegroll and Niemetschek have formed the chief material for the more or less complete accounts of Mozart which afterwards appeared; what was added consisted partly of anecdotes, generally badly authenticated and often ill-turned, such as gain currency among artists, and partly of phrases, or turns of speech which, as Zelter says, every one makes for himself. I must not spare you the enumeration of some of the works of this class.

Cramer's "Anecdotes sur Mozart" (Paris, 1801), is a mere translation of the anecdotes; some of them, together with a general account, are also given by J. B. A. Suard,

"Anecdotes sur Mozart," in his "Mélanges de Littérature", (Paris, 1804), Vol. II., p. 337, as well as by Guattani, in the "Memorie Enciclopediche Romane" (Rome, 1806) Vol. I., pp. 107, 134. A work of more pretension is "Mozarts Geist. Seine kurze Biographie und äthetische Darstellung seiner Werke. Ein Bildungsbuch für junge Tonkünstler" (Erfurt, 1803). Zelter asked Goethe to tell him who was the author of this "short biography half dedicated to Goethe," which was "neither short nor aesthetic, nor a good likeness of the man," and was not a little surprised to learn that Goethe knew nothing either of the work or its author ("Correspondence," Vol. I., pp. 56, 67,65). It was, however, by J. E. F. Arnold, of Erfurt, whose subsequent publication, "Mozart und Haydn. Versuch einer Parallele" (Erfurt, 1810), was scarcely calculated to draw a more favourable expression of opinion from Zelter.

Of no greater intrinsic value are Hormayr's statements: LIFE OF MOZART. [vi] in the "Austrian Plutarch" (VII., 2, 15; Vienna, 1807), or Lichtenthal's "Cenni biografici intorno al celebre Maestro Wolfgango Amadeo Mozart" (Milan, 1816). I have not been able to procure the "Elogio' storico di Mozart del Conte Schizzi" (Cremona, 1817). The articles in Gerber's "Tonkünstlerlexicon" are carefully compiled, but not complete; and "Mozarts Biographie," by J. A. Schlosser (Prague, 1828; third edition, 1844), is a compilation altogether wanting in judgment.

An unsuspected wealth of fresh resources was brought to light by the "Biographie W. A. Mozarts," by G. N. v. Nissen. Leipzig, 1828 (with an appendix). In order to estimate this book justly, and to make a right use of it, it is necessary to ascertain how and whence it proceeded, a task of considerably more difficulty than merely mocking and railing at it.

Nissen, who came to Vienna, after Mozart's death, as a Danish diplomatist, became acquainted with his widow, and interested himself in her unprotected condition. He had a great turn for business matters, and was fond of arranging papers, writing letters, and even copying, without understanding what it was that he was occupied about. He therefore willingly undertook to put Mozart's effects in order, to assist the widow in all her business arrangements, and to carry on her correspondence. A long series of letters which he wrote in her name show him to have been a well-meaning, sensible man, somewhat over-circumstantial in his style of writing. After his marriage with Mozart's widow he felt it his duty to labour with the same conscientious care for his memory as he had formerly done for his property, and he employed the leisure of his remaining years, which were spent at Salzburg, in carrying out this design.

We ought to own ourselves deeply indebted to him, for without his care the most important documents and traditions would have been hopelessly lost. Mozart's sister was then living at Salzburg; her recollections, and those of his wife, afforded an abundance of characteristic traits, and the carefully preserved papers and family correspondence, were a rich mine of authentic documents.

[vii]

Besides a number of separate deeds, letters, and memoranda, he had at his disposal: Leopold Mozart's letters to Hagenauer during the journey to Vienna (September, 1762, to January, 1763); during the great journey (from June, 1763, to November, 1766); during the Vienna journey (September, 1767, to December, 1768); letters both of the father and son to their family during the Italian journey (December, 1769, to March, 1771; from August 13, 1771, to December, 1771; from October, 1772, to March, 1773); from Vienna (July, 1773, to September, 1773); from Munich (December, 1774, to March, 1775); Wolfgang's and his mother's letters home, together with the answers of Leopold and his daughter during the journey to Paris (September, 1777, to January, 1779); Wolfgang's correspondence with his father and sister during his journey to Munich and residence in Vienna. Wolfgang's letters come down to 1784, his father's to 1781.

Nissen possessed both the industry and the goodwill to turn these treasures to account; unhappily these qualities do not suffice for such an undertaking. Not to mention that he has no idea of adaptation or of description, he had neither taste nor cultivation in music, nor tact to distinguish what was trivial from what was important; nor was he capable of accurately conveying an idea. Having had at my service a portion of the documents made use of by him, I have been able to check him, and to form an idea of his mode of proceeding. He is never dishonest, never alters with intent to deceive; but he deals with his documents in the most summary manner possible. He seldom gives them entire, but only so much of them as he considers of interest. Unfortunately he is no judge either of what is musically important nor psychologically interesting, and thus his selection is often singularly unhappy. He was influenced, too, by consideration for distinguished living personages, and by the prejudices of his wife, who naturally wished many family circumstances to remain untouched; his sins, however, are always those of omission. But silence, by obscuring the connection of events, and by concealing the motives of actions, may be as prejudicial as actual LIFE OF MOZART. [viii] misstatement to historical accuracy, and the sufferer by a too tender consideration for the feelings of others is invariably the person whose character it is attempted to depict. Fortunately, for the most important years of Mozart's life from 1777 onwards, I have been able myself to make use of the family correspondence; you will see what a different conception I have thereby been enabled to form of this period. It is of less importance, but nevertheless a drawback, that Nissen has thought good to alter the details of style and expression in many of the letters. Neither father nor son were in need of such emendations, both writing clearly and shrewdly, and with an individuality all their own; but even were this not the case, and Nissen the man (which he was not) to correct their defects, such an effacement of individual character would remain altogether inexcusable.

Had Nissen confined himself to the publication of the letters and extracts, together with such information as he could gather from Mozart's wife and sister, or from other credible witnesses, he would have done posterity important service. But in attempting more than this he verified the saying of Hesiod that "the whole is less than the part." Many manuscripts, newspapers, journals, &c., treating of Mozart's professional doings, had been preserved among the family archives; not content with these, Nissen has taken incredible pains to collect whatever else had been written concerning Mozart; he has then copied out all that appeared to him important, and has arranged these extracts categorically as seemed to him good, putting together, for instance, all that related to one particular work; finally, he has huddled together these heterogeneous fragments without design, connection, or explanation. If this confused and ill-proportioned mass is to be made use of at all, it must be separated into its component parts, and these must be restored to their proper place and connection; it may fairly be taken for granted that where any idea or judgment is expressed, Nissen is not speaking in his own person. He has, however, simplified the task of restoring each fragment to its proper position by a catalogue of the INTRODUCTION. [ix] writings in which Mozart is mentioned; and although some documents made use of by him have since disappeared,

I have been able in almost every case to discover his authorities. In most cases these are of little value; but among much that is worthless, there are here and there communications resting on family traditions, which Nissen has tacitly appropriated with but slight alterations; it is undoubtedly desirable to be able to appeal to the original in such cases, but for the most part they speak for themselves, and are seldom of importance.

The statements I have made were necessary for the proper use of Nissen's work; but you must not, therefore, imagine that I am unjust towards him. True the mass of printed matter is enough to drive one to absolute despair; but when it is remembered that a large proportion of the documents he embodies have since dissappeared, we must be grateful to the man who has enabled us to take so comprehensive a glance into an artist's life, and who has laboured with unselfish reverence for Mozart's memory, while a succeeding generation did not think it worth while even to preserve the documents which Nissen made use of.

It must not be lost sight of either, that Nissen did not see his work through the press; he died on March 24, 1826, before it was put in hand, and it is quite possible that he would have improved it in many ways upon final revision.

It is significant that although all were agreed that Nissen's book was unreadable without alteration and adaptation, no writer in Germany undertook the task, and that it was left to foreigners to turn the treasure to account. Fétis undertook

it in his "Biographie Universelle des Musiciens," IV., p. 432 (Brussels, 1840), VI., p. 222 (2nd edit., Brussels, 1864), so far as it could be done within the narrow limits of a general work of the kind.

But the obvious task of compiling an interesting and readable biography by means of an orderly arrangement of the really interesting portions of Nissen's materials was first undertaken by Edward Holmes, in his "Life of Mozart, including his Correspondence" (London, 1845).

Holmes has arranged the essential portions of the LIFE OF MOZART. [x] correspondence with intelligence and discrimination, and has connected them by a narrative built upon previous notices; he has thus produced a trustworthy and, as far as was possible, an exhaustive account of Mozart's life. Holmes has, moreover, made use of André's published Catalogue of Mozart's Works, and the indications there given of their date of appearance. He undertook a journey through Germany to inspect the original manuscripts in André's possession, and to collect stray oral traditions. He took care to make himself acquainted with musical literature, and the result is a work which must be considered as the most trustworthy and serviceable biography that could be produced by a skilful employment of the materials generally accessible. Holmes has not attempted to draw from hitherto unknown sources; he neither carries his researches to any depth, nor offers any original opinions or explanations.

The letters of both Mozarts, father and son, were edited by J. Goschler in a spirit which is indicated clearly enough by the title of his book, "Mozart; Vie d'un Artiste Chrétien au XVIII. siècle." Paris, 1857.

Alexander Ulibichefï proceeded from quite another point of view in his work, "Nouvelle Biographie de Mozart, suivie d'un aperçu sur l'histoire générale de la musique, et de l'analyse des principales ouvres de Mozart" (Moscow, 1843), in three parts, which is generally known in Germany in the translations of A. Schraishuon (Stuttgart, 1847), and of L. Gantte (Stuttgart, 1859). The enthusiastic reverence of the author for Mozart speaks from every page, and involved many years of study and many real sacrifices; but this must not blind our judgment as to the intrinsic value of his work. I do not fear your reproaching me in the words of the old proverb about the kettle reproving the pot, if I express myself freely as to what I consider the weak points of this book. Ulibicheffs main object has been a critical and aesthetic analysis of Mozart's later works, on which his fame mainly rests, and which bear the most perfect impress of his genius. The author's observations, therefore, are confined to a definite portion of Mozart's compositions—the best known, because the greatest—and any idea of extending INTRODUCTION. [xi] them does not seem to have occurred to him. Anything further in his works is meant to serve only as a foundation for those observations. He does not fail to perceive that the greatness of perfected genius can only be apprehended by a knowledge of the gradual stages of its achievement, and that, since Mozart takes his place in the history of music by something more than mere chance, the whole process of musical development is necessarily incorporated in his progress.

Ulibicheff is content to extract all that seems to point to his conclusions from Nissen's account of Mozart's development. He makes up for his reticence in this direction by expatiating freely on the general history of the art. In fact, his review of the whole history of music results only in the observation that since any exceptional phenomenon is the sum and crown of all that has gone before, therefore the development of modern music in every direction, from Guido of Arezzo, onwards, has its raison d'etre in the production of Mozart, who is to be considered as its perfect expression.

No one knows better than yourself, my friend, the false conclusions to which this exaggeration of an idea, true and suggestive in itself, has led. The partiality of enthusiasm and dilettantism join issue here. It needs no great penetration to discover that Ulibicheffs epitome of the history of music is not the result of impartial research, or of a practical knowledge of even the more important works of past ages, but that it is compiled from a few easily recognised works with the express object of demonstrating that all that has gone before has its end and consummation in Mozart. An author who can seriously maintain that the great masters of counterpoint, Palestrina, Bach, and Handel were only called into being in order that the Requiem might be produced, an author who can only grasp and develop the idea of natural progress up to a certain point and no further—that author has surely mastered neither the idea of progress, nor the nature of the art, nor the work of the master whom he seeks to honour. Such a partial and exclusive appreciation of any artist may satisfy individual taste, for which it is proverbially impossible to account; but scientific investigation, LIFE OF MOZART. [xii] which can always be accounted for, seeing that it proceeds from a rational basis, rejects it at once and altogether. You will, I know, agree with me that the critic who, like Ulibicheff, depreciates Beethoven in order to maintain Mozart on his pedestal, does not understand Mozart. The distortion and exaggeration of such an idea leads further to the neglect of those clues to a right understanding of Mozart's development which exist in the circumstances of his life, in his youthful works, and in the conditions of his age and surroundings. These had all direct effect upon his genius, and, in so far as they are disregarded, our conception of the man and the artist will be defective.

I am, of course, far from denying that Uübicheff has brought to the performance of his task considerable power of delicate aesthetic analysis, together with much spirit and ingenuity. But his analysis of particular works does not start from artistic form, the specific basis of all works of art; he never seeks to demonstrate how the universal laws of art, under certain conditions, govern all concrete forms according to the individuality of the artist (a difficult task in music, but still essential to its true understanding); instead of this he contents himself with giving us his own reflections on the various compositions he analyses, and the feelings and ideas which they suggest to himself. Such reflections are pleasant and entertaining when they proceed from a clever and cultivated mind; but they are usually more characteristic of the author than of his subject, and are mainly satisfactory to those who fail to grasp the substance of a work of art, and are fain to content themselves with its shadow.

Uübicheff invariably displays both intellect and cultivation, but it is the cultivation of a man of the world, not that of a musician, which has no bias of enthusiasm or dilettantism; his remarks seldom reach the root of the matter, and are often deceptive in their brilliancy, thus accomplishing little for a better appreciation of his subject.

Do not be alarmed, my dear friend, at the invidious position in which I place myself and my work by my want of reserve as to others. My cause is that of knowledge, and I must have a clear understanding as to my powers, INTRODUCTION. [xiii] and the means at my disposal, for accomplishing the task before me; least of all would I appear to deprecate censure on my own work by sparing it to that of others. You are aware that music has, from my youth up, occupied a large share of my time and thoughts, so much so, that my elders were in the habit of shaking their heads and auguring ill for my philological studies. They may have been right; I must at any rate acknowledge that music has ever been to me quite as serious a study as philology, and that I have striven to acquire such a thorough and scientific knowledge as should give me an insight into its nature and mechanism.

I considered it therefore as a duty to myself to turn to account the labour that had occupied a good share of my life, and I embraced with eagerness the opportunity of dedicating my researches to the great masters, to whom I owed so much. I believed myself justified in considering that a representation of the life and works of a great master offers so many sides, and makes so many demands, that only united forces can prove themselves fully equal to the task. If, therefore, I was obliged, perforce, to leave much that was essential to the musician by profession, my greater practice in scientific method might advance the undertaking in other and not less important directions. Consoled by these reflections, I set to work.

The task I proposed to myself was a thorough investigation of the sources available for a trustworthy and exhaustive account of Mozart's life, with special reference to all that was calculated to affect his moral and musical development in the general conditions of his time, and in the local and personal circumstances which influenced him; and, in addition, a history of his development as an artist, and a characterisation of his artistic performances as comprehensive as a thorough study and appreciation of his compositions could make it. No side of this task could be treated altogether independently, both the researches and the remarks resulting from them, touching now one, now the other; in the biography as in the individual, the artist and the man are indissolubly united

I soon became painfully aware of the insufficiency of my LIFE OF MOZART. [xiv] materials, and the scattered additions to Nissen's collection which came in from time to time were but scanty gleanings; it was essential to reach the original sources. My journey to Vienna in 1852 was undertaken, as you know, chiefly with the object of collecting such traditions of Beethoven as might remain there; I did not hope to find much which might lead to a closer knowledge of Mozart.

Living testimony as to his life, person, or circumstances was almost extinct, little of what I learnt was from impressions at first hand, and it was generally necessary to guard against such communications as the result of book knowledge distorted by verbal transmission.

Nevertheless, my visit was an instructive one even as concerned Mozart. Widely different as was the Vienna of 1852 from the Vienna of 1780 to 1790, yet much was gained by actual observation and impressions, which could not be given by books, and which operates more in the colour and tone of the whole representation that in any precise details.

Intercourse, also, with accomplished friends led to much which would otherwise have remained untouched.

My valued friend Karajan in particular, with his musical knowledge and his intimate acquaintance with Vienna, rendered my stay in that city as instructive as it was agreeable. He had a good opportunity of experiencing how much trouble one is capable of giving to a friend who is always ready with explanations, and willing to enter on the driest search into matters of detail, if he can thereby help forward another. At the Imperial Library I found not only the different manuscripts of the Requiem which serve as the surest testimony on the much debated question of its authorship, but many other important manuscripts and rich material of all kinds, my access to which I owe to the unfailing courtesy of the custodian, A. Schmid.

But the most important aid came from Aloys Fuchs. With extraordinary perseverance he had collected every writing that in any way related to Mozart, and with a disinterested liberality, rare among collectors, he placed at my service all that he possessed and all that he knew. INTRODUCTION. [xv] His chronological catalogue of all Mozart's works, published and unpublished, was of the greatest service to me, as well as the long list of documents, newspapers, journals, and pamphlets, which he had either in the original or copies.

I sometimes regretted, however, that the collection was made more in the spirit of a collector than in the interests of science; so that, for example, he has scarcely ever noted the source of his extracts; but much was brought to my notice which would scarcely otherwise have occurred to me, much trouble was spared, and a number of Mozart's letters were made known to me for the first time. I was unfortunately prevented from thoroughly examining Fuchs's valuable collection of Mozart's compositions in their different editions and copies; my time was short, and I hoped to be able to avail myself of a future opportunity for doing so. This hope was frustrated by the death of Aloys Fuchs a few months after I left Vienna. It has been a painful feeling to me not to be able to express my gratitude for so much friendly service by offering to him the book in which I know he would have taken pleasure.

The greatest service which he rendered me, however, was the intelligence that all that were preserved of Mozart's letters had been presented to the Mozarteum in Salzburg by the Frau Baroni-Cavalcabo, to whom they were bequeathed by Mozart's son Wolfgang. In November of the same year I repaired, therefore, to Salzburg. I here found the only remains of that complete correspondence which Nissen had edited, viz., the letters between 1777 and 1784, just as he had made use of them; fortunately they embraced the most important period of the biography. A cursory glance convinced me that Nissen had been not only inexact and arbitrary in his selections in matters of detail, but that he had altogether suppressed the most important events affecting the proper understanding of the period. Here, then was much to be done; but it was richly worth the trouble. Through the kind assistance of the secretary of the Mozarteum, Dr. v. Hilleprandt, and of the custodian, Jelinek, I was enabled to give my whole attention to the work. I collated the letters printed by Nissen, like an LIFE OF MOZART. [xvi] old schoolman, copying them entire or making voluminous extracts. One may boast of one's industry, and I can offer an unimpeachable witness of mine in old Theresa at the Golden Ox, who afterwards forgot my name, but remembered me as the professor who sat in his room for more than three weeks writing from morning to night. Fortunately, it was bad weather, or it would have been too hard a trial, even for a professor, to sit in his room all day at Salzburg. But the usually hateful task of transcription was on this occasion a real enjoyment. I could fancy myself in intercourse with the man himself as I lived his life again letter by letter.

I could realise the emotions of joy or sorrow which had prompted his words, the impressions which they had made on the recipients, and even the variations in the handwriting grew to have their own significance. It is my most earnest wish that some breath of this feeling may have passed into my own performance, but it would scarcely be possible to' reproduce the inspiration which contact with the letters awoke in myself.

On the completion of this task, I made researches for any of Mozart's compositions which might still remain in Salzburg; I failed, however, to discover any. Although Mozart's sister, his widow, and her sister had lived in Salzburg within the last ten years, it had occurred to no one to make inquiries concerning their great countryman, or to preserve to posterity the rich treasures of family tradition which encircled his whole life; I found, when I inquired, that all was as completely forgotten, as irrecoverably lost as his grave. Nor had anything further been preserved in the way of family papers and documents. (After the death of Mozart's eldest son Carl, all that he possessed of letters—written during the journeys of 1762 to 1775—and other documents, were placed in the Mozarteum.)

Treasure such as that correspondence I could scarcely expect to excavate elsewhere; but through the kindness of friends and well-wishers many letters have been placed at my disposal which have added to the interest, more particularly of Mozart's later years. I have no doubt that many INTRODUCTION. [xvii] documents are still hidden in autograph collections and elsewhere; perchance my book may open the eyes of the possessors to the true value of their treasures, and I shall consider it as a rich reward of my labours if they aid in bringing to light any such relics of Mozart.

Assistance of another kind, not less important than the foregoing, came from André's collection. It is well known; that the Hofrath André purchased from Mozart's widow the entire collection of Mozart's original manuscripts, of printed and unprinted works, and this collection, with the exception of a few pieces disposed of at an earlier date, was preserved in Frankfort entire, in the possession of André's heirs, as denoted by a "Thematic Catalogue of the original manuscripts by Mozart in the possession of Hofrath André" (Offenbach, 1841). Leopold Mozart carefully preserved all Wolfgang's youthful works, and at his death they came into the son's possession: although not by any means so careless about his compositions as he has been represented, he, nevertheless, lost or gave away a considerable number. After his death, however, it was found that his works previous to his residence in Vienna had been preserved almost entire, and by far the greater number of those of later years. André's collection contains further the enumeration, in Mozart's own handwriting, of his works from his earliest years in almost unbroken succession to his death. The more important and greater number of his compositions previous to 1780 are still unprinted, and many of the printed ones are so carelessly edited that a comparison with the original is indispensable. The importance of André's collection is manifest, and it is probable that none of equal value, historical and artistic, exists for any other great master, whatever be his art. (Unhappily, the apprehension that Germany could conceive no worthier or more lasting way of honouring Mozart than by the erection of statues and busts has been fulfilled, and Mozart's manuscripts have already been in great measure dispersed.)

Convinced that a review of Mozart's musical development would be impossible without an exhaustive knowledge of his youthful works, I repaired to Frankfort in the summer LIFE OF MOZART. [xviii] of 1853, in order to examine this remarkable collection. The brothers Carl and Julius André granted me ready access to it, and kindly prepared me an apartment in their house, where I had full liberty to study the MSS. and make what notes and extracts I pleased; a task which occupied five weeks. As it proceeded, I could not but feel that the most accurate notices could not give the fresh impression of the actual work. Here again, the brothers André came to my aid, displaying throughout a warmth of interest in my work, and a liberality which I could not have ventured to expect; they provided me, as my work progressed, with each particular manuscript on which I was engaged, so that my remarks could be grounded on the actual examination of every composition. Without the confidence and aid of these gentlemen, my book could not have succeeded in attaining that wherein I place its essential value. It is owing to their courtesy and kindness that I may boast, not only of a perfect acquaintance with all Mozart's works, with few and unimportant exceptions, but also of having enjoyed the singular happiness and advantage of studying the greater number of them in his own handwriting.

You will perceive, my dear friend, that all this led, of necessity, to fresh disclosures, to a fuller and more accurate insight into that which had hitherto been only partially known; and you will further take for granted that I, as a "philolog," would not neglect such researches into the literature of my subject as should bring together the scattered materials available for my task. But you must keep in mind that musical literature is not so accessible as philological; and that many expedients, which lighten our labours in the latter path, are wholly wanting in the former. I am, therefore, far from flattering myself that I have even approached a complete study of the literature of my subject. I only aimed at such a study so far as it concerned main principles; for to become acquainted with, or even to quote, everything that has been thought, dreamt, or raved concerning Mozart's music was as far from my intention as from my desire. I was more than satisfied with what came in my way of this kind in the course of my reading, and my INTRODUCTION. [xix] readers will be more than satisfied with what I offer them of it by way of example.

My first aim, then, was the verification and authentication of facts, and their unbiassed statement, so far as this was of interest. The written or authentic verbal traditions of Mozart and his family were here my chief dependence, and, except where some special authority is adduced, Nissen's correspondence forms the basis of my narrative. But since it was my wish to bring together all that appeared of lasting interest, and to dispense with Nissen's collection, for all readers who do not desire to search and prove for themselves, I have, therefore, quoted verbally from the letters wherever it was feasible, and have not hesitated to displace them where it answered my purpose in the narrative. I have in every case indicated the letters by their date, without mentioning whether they have been printed by Nissen or not. (They may be readily referred to in the careful collection of L. Nohl, "Mozarts Briefe": Salzburg, 1865.)

I must remark, by the way, that my version cannot be verified by Nissen, since his is neither accurate nor entire; and in order to avoid any misunderstanding, I may also mention, that besides the collections referred to above, many single letters of Leopold and Wolfgang Mozart have come to hand, to which I was able to make more exact reference. As a matter of course, I have made use of originals whenever they were to be had, and of Nissen's version only when they were wanting. From you, my dear friend, I need only request confidence in my scrupulous honesty as to these matters, and I have hope that my book may inspire the reader with a belief in the accuracy of my rendering. It need scarcely be said that I have not made the slightest alteration in the style and expressions of the letters. I have only taken a few liberties with the orthography in order not to distract the reader's attention unnecessarily from the characterisation. I have accurately indicated any reference to authorities other than the letters.

It has been my aim to represent, not only what immediately concerns Mozart, but also the time in which he lived, his circumstances, and the persons with whom he came in LIFE OF MOZART. [xx] contact, so far as all these affected the development of his genius. And here again I found the need of trustworthy information. Well informed as we may be on the history of literature and culture during the latter half of the eighteenth century, yet our information as to musical events and persons is meagre and obscure, and we know least of those regions which are of the greatest interest in the history of music. I doubt not that an historian, occupied with the study of this age, would discover much that has escaped me of interest, although I have heard even such complain of the poverty of material.

I have striven with a certain amount of zeal to bring together all that appeared to render my narrative more graphic and lifelike, and have not refrained from adducing my authorities, partly for the sake of accuracy, partly to point the way to those who find the subject of interest. I have gone even further than this, and have added to the names of many persons, principally musicians, of whom mention had to be made, a short notice of their life and sometimes an epitome of their performances. It is probable that the minority of my readers will already have such facts in their minds, and they are essential to a clear perception of the whole work: I have been anxious to spare them the trouble of continual reference to a biographical dictionary.

I have confined myself to the accessible and, of its kind, excellent Dictionary of Musicians by Gerber and Fétis, but my own investigations, leading me into the detailed history of this time, have not seldom supplied additional data for such notices; I remark this not to depreciate the merit of those works, but that it may not be supposed that my statements can always be verified by a reference to accessible authorities.

You may perhaps smile at the zeal of the "philolog" betraying itself in such minute particulars. Be it so. I hold to my craft, and occasionally you will not find it amiss that I do so.

I may remark besides, not to you, but to those who hold in horror notes, digressions, quotations, and references as the merciless weapons of pedantry, that they need not for this INTRODUCTION. [xxi] reason at once reject my book. I have striven so to write that the text is complete in itself and requires no notes for its comprehension; and those who do not desire the information they contain, may contentedly pass them over. On the other hand, I hope that you will uphold my opinion that the application of the scientific method even to these researches, cannot but be to their advantage. This is perhaps most strikingly evident in the chronological notification of each separate work.

We are well supplied with chronological information as to Mozart's compositions. From 1784 onwards we possess his own carefully compiled thematic catalogue which André has edited (Offenbach, 1805 and 1828).

On earlier compositions the data is generally correctly given with the autograph signature, and the list of authentically dated works comprises by far their greater number. But not quite all; the autograph is wanting to many, and they are not all dated. It thus becomes necessary to resort to classification resting on the external evidence of paper and handwriting, and the internal evidence of style and technical treatment, as well as on the testimony of witnesses.

Hofrath André compiled for his own use a chronological catalogue coming down to the year 1784, of which I have made use. It contains many suggestive remarks, and did me good service, although, of course, it could not spare me my own investigations, by means of which I have, in most cases, come to a solution of my difficulties. The catalogue which I have compiled with considerable pains will, I hope, recommend itself by its brevity, clearness, and trustworthiness. I was obliged to give up the idea of noting what had been already printed, where, and how often; to do this with completeness and exactitude would require an amount of time and study which it was out of my power to bestow.

The treatment of historical facts, both in detail and as a whole, has its own secure and beaten path. Its final object is truth, and my sole concern has been to discover and set forth the truth. No consideration for others has led me to conceal what was essential or important for the due understanding of Mozart as a man and an artist; neither have I LIFE OF MOZART. [xxii] been tempted to silence on points which were to his disadvantage. Public opinion on his achievements as a fully developed artist is firmly established, and is perhaps only susceptible of modifications of detail and degree; but my work is the first attempt that has been made towards a correct judgment of Mozart as a student and as a man. It has been a pleasure to me to find that as I proceeded, my admiration, esteem, and love for Mozart were constantly on the increase; but not on any account would I have my representation of his character considered in the light of an apology. It is my firm conviction that injustice is done to great men by concealing or slurring over their failings; we serve them best by seeking to make them understood just as they were.

An attempt to lay Mozart's individuality before the reader seemed hardly complete without some presentation of his outward appearance. You will find, therefore, in this book, the charming picture of Mozart as a boy, engraved from the portrait in oils, painted in Verona in 1770; also the characteristic portrait from the family group in the Mo-zarteum at Salzburg, which was painted in 1780, and an engraving of Tischbein's portrait, painted at Mayence in 1790. I have thought it right, further, in a work which is intended to transmit traditions, to preserve the well-known profile of Posch's medallion, which served as a model for all early portraits, more and more unlike in every copy, and yet always like. Various fac-similes of Mozart's handwriting are also given, and I do not fear that you will find out of place a portrait of his father, also taken from the Salzburg family picture.

May I add one word on the musical criticism contained in my work? I am quite aware that it must stand on its own merits, and I am only anxious to express my full consciousness of the difficulty of my undertaking. That the substance of a musical work cannot be verbally represented, and that its effect on the hearer is incapable of being reproduced by description, least of all by a climax of high-sounding adjectives, admits of no dispute. Properly speaking, as Schumann once wished for the musical critic, when a INTRODUCTION. [xxiii] composition is discussed, there should be singers and instrumentalists ready at hand to perform it. But this being scarcely feasible, we are driven to a verbal attempt at reproducing the essence of the work. Such an attempt can only succeed by starting from artistic form, and showing how its laws and types, its technical conditions, its manifold application and development, are all represented in the most individual modifications. A general idea of the work, however, is all that can be arrived at by this means; the immediate impressions made upon the mind by its performance cannot be reproduced; neither can the attempt to express in words the artistic frame of mind which finds its expression in the forms of the work be altogether successful, and it is impossible to apprehend the degree in which the artistic mood imbues the artistic form otherwise than by observation of the work itself.

Descriptions of musical works, therefore, since music cannot, like painting, borrow analogies from visible nature, must remain mere approximations of the original; they become more definite in proportion as they fall in with the reader's own experiences, and find in these analogies and, as it were, precedents for the new ideas it is sought to convey. The main difficulty consists in the fact that among a large circle of readers (which I know you wish for me) the degrees of musical cultivation to which appeal may be made are necessarily very varied. It would be impossible, on this account, to treat the subject in the purely technical manner which would be the shortest and most convenient were musicians only addressed; neither can every separate point be treated from its very beginning, without a presupposition of some knowledge and comprehension on the part of the reader. There only remains then, as it seems to me, such a consideration of musical form from varied points of view, and proceeding in varied directions, yet always with reference to some particular case, as shall bring into play the reader's special musical experiences and assist him to a true understanding of the subject. If he should be struck with only one particular point and should feel it become a reality for LIFE OF MOZART. [xxiv] him, he will henceforward have a clue to the mastery of the rest. To this end I hope that my historical survey of the development of musical forms, and my general observations concerning the laws of the art, may tend. And here I must remark that I have had no intention of providing the technical musician with a theoretical analysis of separate works, but that my characterisation has been limited by the position of its object in the whole representation. I leave you to judge, my dear friend, how far, under these difficult circumstances, I have succeeded in expressing myself clearly and forcibly; I can only affirm with confidence that all that I have said has been realised and experienced by myself.

The sympathy and assistance of my honoured friend Hauptmann has been a source of great gratification to me during the publication of my book. I do not desire to impose upon him any share of responsibility in it, by thanking him for the care with which he has overlooked the author as well as the compositor; but you will understand how I have been encouraged and refreshed during my labours by continual proofs of his friendly sympathy, and how sorely I miss my pleasant personal intercourse with him.

The hour is late, my dear friend, later than it was our wont to separate after our musical revels, which, in the opinion of your amiable wife, often lasted far too long.

Farewell, and accept my book with the same cordial sympathy and indulgence which I have hitherto found so invaluable.

OTTO JAHN.

Bonn, November 30, 1855.

MY DEAR FRIEND,—I can scarcely describe[xxv] to you the depression of spirits with which I laid aside my pen at the close of my foregoing letter to you. When I looked at the thick volume before me, which had grown so wonderfully under my hands, and reflected that several others were to follow, I felt a misgiving amounting to certainty that my work was ill-planned, badly executed, or altogether out of place. I should not have believed any one who had prophesied the result that was actually to follow. The gradual conviction that I had been mistaken, that the book was a success beyond anything I had dared to expect, the many proofs I received of acknowledgment and sympathy, were my best encouragement to apply my whole energies to the completion of my arduous task.

When it became necessary to prepare a second edition, I rejoiced at the prospect of revising the whole work in the light of my acquired experience, and hoped that this labour of love would recompense me for all my pains. In this expectation I was, however, deceived; the revision, which I now lay before you, assumed the proportions of a heavy task, requiring the exertions of all my powers for its accomplishment.

The gloom of the last few years cast its shadows even over my work, as you, who seek and recognise the living author behind his words, will not fail to discover; I trust that you will also find traces of the conscientiousness with which I have striven to perform my appointed task.

You will agree with me in thinking that it would have been unadvisable to subvert the whole design of the book in substance and form, and that I must content myself with such improvements in matters of detail as would bring me LIFE OF MOZART, [xxvi] somewhat nearer to the end I had in view. It was, of course, my first endeavour to rectify such errors and remove such blemishes as had been observed either by myself or others, and I then proceeded to turn to account all the materials that had come to hand for the completion or enrichment of my narrative. I had become the fortunate possessor of copies of Mozart's complete correspondence, so far as I know it to exist. If, as I trust was the case, the extracts already before the public had been found useful and trustworthy, there could be no doubt that the completed version would render my narrative more accurate and lifelike. In addition, I had now Mozart's entire compositions, either autograph or copied, so that I could confirm my account and my criticism of each work by direct reference.

Besides these efficient materials for the confirmation of my main authorities, I had received numerous separate communications, partly from friends to whom I owe much gratitude, partly from publications of the last ten years bearing upon my subject, some of which have been of great service to me.

The most important aid, both to myself and to the readers of this edition, has been afforded by Ludwig v. Köchel's "Chronologischthematisches Verzeichniss sammtlicher Tonwerke W. A. Mozarts" (Leipzig, 1862). The necessity for such a catalogue had so strongly impressed me that I had resolved on compiling it myself, when I fortunately learned that Köchel was at work upon it. I was speedily convinced that it was in far better hands than mine, and it gave me genuine pleasure to afford it such assistance as was in my power. Unexampled assiduity, sparing neither sacrifice nor exertion, has produced a work which, from the completeness of its research and the accuracy of its execution, may serve as a model. A few addenda and corrections were indeed unavoidable: Kochel has himself indicated some (Allg. Mus. Ztg., 1864, p. 493), and you will find two or three trifling ones in my book. The fact that Köchel's catalogue contains a complete chronological and biographical account of all Mozart's compositions freed my book from all the notices and references found necessary INTRODUCTION. [xxvii] in corroboration of my statements. A reference to the number in Köchel's catalogue became, in most cases, sufficient; and I was able also to omit notices of errors in the published works which Köchel had remarked upon. These, as far as the great operas are concerned, will soon be rendered still more superfluous by the projected new edition of the scores from the autograph originals. Köche's friendship, which I regard as the greatest gain of our common labours, has aided and supported me throughout the preparation of this edition. I will not attempt to enumerate all that he has communicated, verified, and brought into agreement for me: he knows the amount of his aid and of my gratitude. Sonnleithner, Karajan, Pohl, Jul. André, have been equally obliging in satisfying my demands and inquiries. Special thanks are due to them if my book attains that accuracy of detail, wherein I place its chief value. I may claim to have made tolerably exhaustive use of all that has been published concerning Mozart during the last ten years, but you will scarcely expect me to enumerate all my corrections and improvements. It has been my aim to retain all that had been proved good in my work, while making such additions as served to place my subject more clearly and fully before my readers.

If a perusal of my second edition should leave you with the impression that the task of revision and correction has been an easy one, I shall, whatever my convictions to the contrary, congratulate myself on having approached the object which I have kept steadily in view.

Accept my book, then, in its new dress, with the old spirit of friendship, and gladden the heart of its author once more by the sympathy he has never yet found wanting.

OTTO JAHN.

Bonn, March 6, 1867.

[xxviii]

CONSIDERABLE doubt has existed in the mind of the translator as to the proper English equivalent for the word "clavier" throughout this work. Clavier is a generic term in German, and is used to denote any keyed instrument, whether harpsichord, clavichord, or pianoforte. Mozart's compositions for the clavier are equally available for all these instruments, and in his early years he performed indifferently on the harpsichord or clavichord. His first introduction to the pianoforte was at Augsburg, in 1777, and he did not become familiar with the instrument until after his settlement in Vienna in 1781. It has been thought best, therefore, to leave the word clavier untranslated up to this date, after which it is translated pianoforte, whether it is applied to Mozart's performances or to his compositions.

It has not been thought advisable to give in the English edition of the work all the Appendixes which appear in the German. Many of them are of interest only in the original, others have already been translated among Mozart's correspondence. Those which seemed likely to interest the English reader have been translated. The musical Appendixes have all been omitted as bulky and unnecessary.

The only part of Herr Jahn's work against which the charge of incompleteness can fairly be brought is the Index; an entirely new one has therefore been made for the English edition, and will, it is hoped, be found minute and accurate.

[3]

WOLFGANG AMADE MOZART came of a family belonging originally to the artisan class. We find his ancestors settled in Augsburg early in the seventeenth century, and following their calling there without any great success.1 His grandfather, Johann Georg Mozart, a bookbinder, married, October 7, 1708, Anna Maria Peterin, the widow of another bookbinder, Augustin Banneger. 2 From this union sprang two daughters and three sons, viz.: Fr. Joseph Ignaz, Franz Alois (who carried on his father's trade in his native town), and Johann Georg Leopold Mozart, born on November 14, 1719, the father of the Mozart of our biography. 3 Gifted with a keen intellect and firm will he early formed the resolution of raising himself to a higher position in the world than that hitherto occupied by his family; and in his later years he could point with just elation to his own arduous efforts, and the success which had crowned them, when he was urging his son to the same steady perseverance.

When Wolfgang visited Augsburg in 1777, he gathered many particulars of his father's youth which refreshed the recollections of Leopold himself. We find him writing to his son (October 10, 1777) how, as a boy, he had sung a cantata at the monastery of St. Ulrich, for the wedding of the Hofrath Oefele, and how he had often climbed the broken steps to the organ loft, to sing treble at the Feast CHILDHOOD. [4] of the Holy Cross (November 29, 1777). He afterwards became an excellent organist: a certain Herr von Freisinger, of Munich, told Wolfgang (October 10, 1777) that he knew his father well, he had studied with him, and "had the liveliest recollections of Wessobrunn where my father (this was news to me) played the organ remarkably well. He said: 'It was wonderful, to see his hands and feet going together, but exceedingly fine—yes, he was an extraordinary man. My father thought very highly of him. And how he used to jeer at the priests, when they wanted him to turn monk.'" This last must have been of peculiar interest to Wolfgang, who knew his father only as a devout and strict observer of the Catholic religion. But Leopold remembered the days of his youth, and wrote to his wife (December 15, 1777): "Let me ask, if Wolfgang has not of late neglected to go to confession? God should ever be first in our thoughts! to Him alone must we look for earthly happiness, and we should ever keep eternity in view; young people, I know, are averse to hearing of these things; I was young myself once; but God be thanked, I always came to myself after my youthful follies, fled from all dangers to my soul, and kept steadily in view God, and my honour, and the dangerous consequences of indulgence in sin."

Long-continued exertions and self-denial laid the foundation of Leopold Mozart's character in a conscientious earnestness and devotion to duty in great things as in small; they had the effect also of rendering his judgment of others somewhat hard and uncompromising. This is observable in his relations as an official, and as a teacher, and in his dealings on matters of religion. He was a strict Catholic, and feared nothing so much for his children as the influence which a prolonged stay in Protestant countries might exert on their faith; he remarked with surprise that his travelling companions, Baron Hopfgarten and Baron Bose, had often edified him with their discourse, although they were Lutherans (Paris, April 1, 1764).

When in London, he became acquainted with the excellent violoncellist Siprutini, son of a Dutch Jew, who had broken loose from Judaism and "was content to believe in L. MOZART'S CHARACTER. [5] one God, to love Him first, and his neighbour as himself, and to live an honest life"; L. Mozart gained an acknowledgment from him that of all the Christian creeds the Catholic was the best, and was not without hope of converting him altogether (September 13, 1764).

He fulfilled all the duties which the Church requires of her children with conscientiousness and zeal; we find him ordering masses to be said, buying relics, &c., whenever occasion offers.

The strictly orthodox, almost ascetic, rules of life which the reigning archbishop, Sigismund, followed and enforced in his court and in all Salzburg must have had the effect of deepening this side of L. Mozart's character; while the greater freedom in church matters enjoyed under Sigis-mund's successor, Hieronymus, was not without its influence, evinced by his becoming late in life a freemason. There can be no doubt that L. Mozart was a man of genuine piety, which stood firm amid strong temptations and the most trying circumstances. It was in accordance with his education and position in life that this piety found no better justification and expression than those provided by his Church. His performance of his duties to God and the Church was undertaken in the same rigorous spirit which characterised him in all the relations of life. But he was too sensible not to remonstrate with his daughter when she chose rather to endanger her health than to be absent from mass (July 28, 1786). He was entirely free from superstition, and when some one wrote to him of a ghost-story he declared that "it must be only an hysterical illusion of the maid-servant." Again, he had "invariably found that begging sisterhoods were the signs of much moral degradation concealed under the cloak of hypocrisy" (December 16, 1785). It would be a great mistake to consider the elder Mozart as a narrow-minded bigot. United to a shrewd, clear intellect, for the cultivation of which he made extraordinary efforts, he possessed a decided turn for raillery and sarcasm. His painful endeavours to work himself free of his petty surroundings, his habit of looking beyond the narrow horizon which encircled him, encouraged in him a cynical CHILDHOOD. [6] turn of mind. It grew to be a settled conviction with him that selfishness is the only motive of human action on which we can safely reckon, and which, therefore, we must strive to turn to account: a belief in disinterested philanthropy or friendship is a folly which seldom goes unpunished. Nor should we have any faith in an innate love of truth. "Take it as an universal truth," he writes (October 6, 1785), "all men tell lies, and add to the truth, or take away from it, just as it suits their purpose. Especially must we believe nothing which, if known, would add to the reputation of the speaker or flatter his interlocutor, for that is sure to be false." This distrust of mankind he sought to implant in his son, but with very little success. Nor did his gloomy views of life stifle, even in himself, all emotion and sentiment. His theory, as so often happens, went farther than his practice. When Leopold Mozart analysed the conduct of men, his criticism was sharp and cutting, but he was always ready with counsel and assistance when they were needed. Notwithstanding his piety he expressed bitter contempt for the priesthood and priestcraft: he had occasion to know both intimately. He was never dazzled by the distinctions of birth and position. He judged those nearest and dearest to him, not excepting his beloved son, as severely as the rest of the world. It had the most wholesome effect on the development of Mozart's character and genius that his father, who loved him as only a father can love, who justly estimated and admired his artistic genius, was never dazzled by it, never ignored nor concealed his weaknesses, but warned and blamed him, and strove to bring him up with a conscientious fidelity to duty.

Leopold Mozart was aware that the education of his son was the highest and greatest task of his life; but this absorbing care did not narrow his breadth of sympathy, nor lessen his consideration for others bound to him by natural ties; he proved himself always a devoted friend as well as, for one of his means, a liberal benefactor.

The exertions which it had cost him to attain to even a moderate position, the unceasing thought which he was obliged to take for the supply of his daily needs gave him L. MOZART'S EARLY LIFE. [7] a high appreciation of the value of a secured worldly position, and as he became gradually convinced that his son was not likely to attach the same importance to this, he strove the more by his wisdom and experience to help to secure it for him. This care for economical details has been unjustly condemned. We may grant that a somewhat exaggerated anxiety increased by the hypochondria of old age was the natural result of the struggle with narrow circumstances which he had carried on all his life; but this is far more than counterbalanced by the singular union of general and of musical culture, of love and severity, of just judgment and earnest devotion to duty, which Leopold Mozart developed in the education of his son. Without them, Wolfgang would certainly not have been the man he became by their help.

We have no detailed information of L. Mozart's youthful life. His recollections of his position at Augsburg are bitter and sarcastic. Even with his brothers and sisters, whom he accused of having turned the weakness of their mother to his disadvantage, he had no close or intimate connection, although they had never any scruples in applying for his support.

"When I thought of your journey to Augsburg," he writes to Wolfgang (October 18, 1777), "Wieland's 'Abderiten' always occurred to me. One ought to have the opportunity of seeing in its naked reality that of which one has formed an ideal conception."

After passing through school life in his native town, he went to Salzburg to study jurisprudence. The monastery of St. Ulrich belonged to the community of the Benedictines, which had founded and still partly maintained the university of Salzburg;4 this connection may have given Leopold a reason for going thither. But as he did not obtain employment, he was constrained to enter the service of Count Thurn, Canon of Salzburg. From his youth up, he had cultivated his musical talent with assiduity, and was a CHILDHOOD. [8] thoroughly practical and well-informed musician. He had chiefly maintained himself in early youth by his singing, and afterwards by giving lessons, and had gained considerable reputation as a violinist, so much so that Archbishop Leopold took him into his service in the year 1743. He afterwards became court composer and leader of the orchestra, and in 1762 was appointed Vice-Kapellmeister by Archbishop Sigismund.

The pay of the choir was scanty, though their duties were heavy. Leopold Mozart submitted to these demands with his accustomed conscientiousness, and Schubart points him out as the man whose exertions had placed music in Salzburg on its then excellent footing.5 His official position necessitated his appearing as a composer; in this respect, too, he was indefatigable, and won for himself an honourable reputation.

A list of his compositions compiled in 1757, no doubt by himself, gives an idea of his industry as a composer.6 We find a large proportion of church music. A Mass in C major is in the library at Munich, Julius André possesses a Mass in F major, the Credo of a "Missa brevis" in F major lies before me; a "Missa brevis" in A major is preserved in the cathedral of Salzburg, together with the Offertory, "Parasti in conspectu meo," three Loretto Litanies (in G, F, and E flat major), and a Litany "De venerabili" in D major, composed in 1762. This last, a carefully finished work, was sent by L. Mozart in December, 1774, to Munich, together with a grand Litany by his son. It is written for solos, chorus, and the usual small church orchestra of the day, and shows throughout the learning of a musician skilled in the use of traditional forms. The harmony is correct, the disposition of the parts skilful, and the contrapuntal forms are handled boldly; nor does the composer fail to introduce regular, well-worked-out fugues in the proper places; "Cum Sancto Spiritu," and "Et L. MOZART'S COMPOSITIONS. [9] vitam venturi sæculi" in the Mass, "Pignus futuræ gloriæ" in the Litany.

But there is no originality or inventive power either in the compositions as a whole, or in isolated passages. Leopold Mozart's sacred music gives him a right to an honourable place among contemporary composers, but to no higher rank. Schubart, who prefers his church music to his chamber music, says justly, that his style was thorough, and showed great knowledge of counterpoint, but that he was somewhat old-fashioned.7 When Wolfgang was busy composing church music with Van Swieten at Vienna, he wrote to his father (March 29, 1783): "Some of your best church music would be very useful to us; we like to study all masters, ancient and modern, so please send us some as soon as possible." But to Wolfgang's regret this request was refused, for his father was quite aware of the change of taste in such music that had taken place since his day.

Nothing certain is known of twelve oratorios composed according to custom for Lent,8 nor of "a host of theatrical pieces, as well as pantomimes."9

L. Mozart was an industrious instrumental composer. He enumerates upwards of thirty serenades, "containing instrumental solos," and a long list of symphonies, "some only quartets, others for all the usual instruments"; of CHILDHOOD. [10] these, eighteen are thematically catalogued,10 and one in G major is by mistake attributed to Wolfgang, and printed in score. Very curious are the "Occasional Pieces" which are characteristic of the times, in their odd instrumental effects, and somewhat heavy touches of fun. Among these are a pastoral symphony with shepherds' horns and two obbligato flutes; a military piece with trumpets, drums, kettle-drums, and fifes; a Turkish and a Chinese piece; a pastoral, representing a rural wedding, and introducing lyres, bagpipes, and dulcimers; during the march, after each huzza, there was a pistol-shot, after the custom of rural weddings, and L. Mozart directed that whoever could whistle well on his fingers, was to whistle during the huzzas.

But the musical "Sledge Drive" seems to have gained most applause; a pianoforte arrangement was afterwards printed, the effect being heightened by the accompaniment of five differently toned harness-bells. The following programme was printed by L. Mozart, for a performance of the Collegium Musicum in Augsburg, December 29, 1755:—

Introduced by a prelude, consisting of a pleasing andante and a splendid allegro.

Then follows:

A prelude, with trumpets and drums.

After this:

The Sledge Drive, with the sledge-bells and all the other instruments.

After the Sledge Drive:

The horses are heard rattling their harness.

And then:

The trumpets and drums alternate agreeably with the oboes, French horns, and bassoons, the first representing the cavalcade, the second the march.

After this:

The trumpets and drums have another prelude, and

The Sledge Drive begins again, but stops suddenly, for all the party dismount, and enter the ball-room.

Then comes an adagio, representing the ladies trembling with cold. L. MOZART'S COMPOSITIONS. [11] The ball is opened with a minuet and trio.

The company endeavour to warm themselves by country-dances.

Then follows the departure, and, finally:

During a flourish of trumpets and drums, the whole party mount their sledges and drive homewards.

In consequence of the performance of these occasional pieces in Augsburg, L. Mozart received the following anonymous letter:

"Monsieur et très cher ami!

"May it please you to compose no more absurdities, such as Chinese and Turkish music, sledge drives, and peasant weddings, for they reflect more shame and contempt on you than honour, which is regretted by the individual who herewith warns you and remains,

"Your sincere Friend.

"Datum in domo verae amicitice."

Leopold Mozart was not a little annoyed by this act of friendship, which he was inclined to ascribe to the Kapellmeister Schmidt or to the organist Seyffert. It need scarcely be said that this "programme-music" is innocent either of originality or of instrumental colouring. Short characteristic pieces, such as Couperin and Rameau wrote, were composed by L. Mozart, in common with Eberlin, for a kind of organ with a horn stop, which had been erected by Joh. Roch. Egedacher on the fortifications above the town. Once a month, morning and evening, a piece was played on this instrument; in February it was the Carnival, in September a hunting song, in December a cradle song.11

Besides all this, L. Mozart wrote many concertos, particularly for the flute, oboe, bassoon, French horn, or trumpet (one of these is in Munich), innumerable trios (he offered a flautist, named Zinner, in Augsburg, fourteen trios for flute, violin, and violoncello), and divertimenti for various instruments,12 marches, minuets, opera-dances, &c. Three clavier CHILDHOOD. [12] sonatas are printed,13 of which Faiszt remarks that they might well be the work of Leopold's great son, so strong is their similarity in form and spirit.14 is compositions were for the most part only in manuscript, as was almost all the music of that day.15 By way of practice in engraving, he engraved three trio sonatas himself in 1740, and revived the old accomplishment in 1778, when he engraved some variations for his son.

In later years he composed little or nothing; his position in Salzburg was so little to his mind that he did not feel himself called on to do more than his duty required; besides, the education of his children engrossed his whole time, and when his son had come forward as a composer, he would on no account have entered into competition with him.16 L. Mozart was proud of the estimation in which his works were held abroad, as the following extract from a letter to his friend Lotter shows:

November 24, 1755.

I may tell you in strict confidence that I have received a letter from a distant place inviting me to become a member ——— don't be alarmed—or—don't laugh —— a member of the Corresponding Society of Musical Science.17 Potz Plunder! say I. But do not tell tales out of school, for it may be only talk. I never dreamt of such a thing in my life; that I can honestly say.

But the elder Mozart acquired his chief reputation as a musician by the publication in 1756 of his "Attempt towards a Fundamental Method for the Violin."18 This work was L. MOZART'S VIOLIN METHOD. [13] spread abroad in numerous editions and translations, and was for many years the only published instruction on the art of violin-playing; proof enough that it rendered important service in its day, as far as technical knowledge was concerned. What makes the book still interesting to us is the earnest, intelligent spirit which speaks from it, and shows us the man as he was. He sought to impart to his pupils a sound, practical musical education; they were not only to practise their fingers, but were always clearly to, understand what they had to execute and why: "It is dispiriting to go on playing at random, without knowing what you are about" (p. 245); a good violinist should even be practised in rhetoric and poetry to be able to execute with intelligence (p. 107). He insists strongly that the pupil should not advance until he is quite able for what he has to learn: "In this consists the gravest error that either master or pupil can fall into. The former often lack patience to wait for the right time; or they let themselves be carried away by the pupil, who thinks he has done wonders when he can scrape out a minuet or two. Often, too, the parents or guardians of the beginner are anxious to hear him play some of these imperfect tunes, and think, with satisfaction how well their money has been spent on the lessons. How greatly they are mistaken!" (p.57, cf. 121.)

The study is not to be made too easy or simple; the learner must exert himself and work hard. Thus he writes at the beginning of the exercises (p. 90): "These are the passages for practice. The more distasteful they are, the better I shall be pleased; I have striven to make them so"; that is, to guard against their being played from memory.

The same ability is displayed in his principles of taste.

He exacts above all a "straightforward, manly tone"; "nothing can be more absurd than to seem afraid even to grasp the violin firmly; or just to touch the strings with the bow (held perhaps with two fingers), and to attempt such an artistic up-bow to the very nut of the violin that only a note here and there is heard in a whisper, without any idea what it means, it is all so like a dream" (p. 101). CHILDHOOD. [14] Simple, natural expression is the highest aim of the violinist, so that the instrument may imitate as far as possible the art of song (p. 50); "who does not grant that to sing their music has been the aim of all instrumentalists, because they have ever striven after nature?" (p. 107.)19 He is severe on performers who "tremble upon every long note, or cannot play a couple of bars simply without introducing their senseless and ridiculous tricks and fancies" (p. 50). They are blamed the more as they are for the most part wanting in the necessary knowledge where to bring in their ornamentation without involving errors in the composition (pp. 209, 195). Other faults of the virtuoso are equally severely dealt with, such as the tremolo of the player "who shakes away on every note as if he had the ague" (p. 238), or the constant introduction of the so-called "flageolet tones" (p. 107), or the alternate hurrying and dragging of the "virtuoso of imagination." "Many," says he (p. 262), "who have no conception of taste, disdain to keep uniform time in the accompaniment of a concerted part, and strive to follow the principal part. That is accompanying like a bungler, not like an artist. It is true that in accompanying some Italian singers, who learn everything by heart and never adhere to time or measure, one has often to pass over whole bars to save them from open shame. But in accompanying a true artist, worthy of the name, not a note must be delayed or anticipated, there must be neither hurry nor dragging, so that every note may have proper expression, otherwise the accompaniment would destroy the effect of the composition. A clever accompanist should also be able to judge of the performer. He must not spoil the tempo rubato of an experienced artist by waiting to follow him. It is not easy to describe this 'stolen time.' A 'virtuoso of imagination' often gives to a semiquaver in an adagio cantabile the time of half a bar, before recovering L. MOZART'S VIOLIN METHOD. [15] from his paroxysm of feeling; and he cares nothing at all for the time: he plays in recitative."

Technical instruction and skill are to him only the means to a higher end. The performer must be capable of expressing all the pathos of the piece before him, so as to penetrate to the souls and stir the passions of the audience (pp. 52, 253).20 As the most important requisite to the violinist for attaining this, he indicates the stroke of the bow (p. 122) as "the medium by the judicious use of which we are able to communicate the pathos of the music to the audience." "I consider," he adds "that a composer attains his highest aim when he finds a suitable melody for every sentiment, and knows how to give it its right expression." "Many a second-rate composer," he says (p. 252), "is full of delight, and thinks more than ever of himself when he hears his nonsensical music executed by good artists, by whose artistic expression even such miserable trash is made intelligible to the audience."

It is plain that he was a sworn enemy to smatterers and pretenders. Thorough technical study and an intellect trained to clear and rational thought he considered absolutely indispensable to a true artist. He grants, indeed, that genius may atone for the want of learning, and that a man highly gifted by nature may lack the opportunity of studying his art scientifically. But this does not detract from the main proposition nor make his demands less just.

The extracts given above illustrate the principles and the views with which L. Mozart undertook the musical education of his son, and these being united to a correct appreciation of the freedom and indulgence due to great natural powers, it must be acknowledged that no genius could have been trained under happier auspices!

This work, so remarkable for the age, met with suitable recognition. Marpurg, to whose judgment L. Mozart had CHILDHOOD. [16] submitted it in his preface, speaks of it as follows: 21 "The want of a work of this kind has been long felt, but hitherto in vain. A thorough and skilled performer, a sensible and methodical teacher, a learned musician, a man possessing all those qualities which singly command our respect, are here to be found united in one individual—the author. What Geminiani did for the English nation, Mozart has accomplished for the German, and their works are worthy to live side by side in universal approbation."

After this it is not surprising that the first of the critical letters on music which were published under Marpurg's direction at Berlin in 1759 and 1760 should be addressed to L. Mozart, with the declaration that the society which proposed to address each letter to some person of distinction, could not make a fitter commencement than with him. Schubart says,22 "He gained great reputation through his 'Method,' which is written in good German, and with admirable judgment. The examples are well chosen, and the system of fingering not in the least pedantic; the author doubtless inclines to the school of Tartini, but he permits greater freedom in the management of the bow." Zelter expresses himself in the same spirit:23 "His 'Violin Method' is a work which will be of use as long as the violin is an instrument. It is well written, too."

The praise of the author's style of writing is characteristic and well deserved; it was then a far rarer distinction among artists than at present. L. Mozart's style is sharp and clear; his sarcastic turn of mind is so prominent that he apologises for it in the preface, although it is not unusual in the musical literature of the time. Both in this book and in his letters he proves himself a man who has not only acquired cultivation by intercourse with the world and by travel, but who is well acquainted with literature, has read with taste and discernment, and has well-defined and judicious opinions L. MOZART'S POSITION IN SALZBURG. [17] both on aesthetic and moral subjects. He addressed to the poet Gellert a letter so full of veneration that Gellert replied in the warmest terms, as the following extract will show:—

I should be insensible, indeed, if the extraordinary kindness with which you honoured me had left me unmoved, and I should be the most ungrateful of men if I could have received your letter without acknowledgment. I accept your love and friendship, my dear sir, with the same frankness with which they are offered. Do you, indeed, read my works and encourage your friends to do the same? Such approbation, I can truly say, was more than I could have dared to hope from such a quarter. Does my last poem, "Der Christ," meet with your approval? I venture to answer myself in the affirmative. To this I am encouraged by the subject of the poem, your own noble spirit, as unwittingly you display it in your letters, and by my consciousness of honest endeavour.

Baron von Bose presented "the little Orpheus of seven years old," when in Paris, with Gellert's songs, recommending him to borrow their irresistible harmonies, "so that the hardened atheist may read and mark them, may hear them and fall down and worship God." Perhaps this gift gave occasion to the letter. Wolfgang informs his sister at a later date, from Milan, of the death of Gellert, which took place there.

With this amount of cultivation, and the pretensions consequent on it, it is not surprising that Leopold Mozart felt himself isolated at Salzburg. He had his duties to perform at court, and the more contemptible their remuneration was, the more he and the other officials were made to feel their dependent position. He was employed as a teacher in most of the families of rank at Salzburg, for his instruction was justly considered as the best that could be had; but this did not imply any degree of friendly intimacy. He was too proud to ingratiate himself with them by flattery or obsequiousness, although, as a man of the world, he knew how to moderate his satirical humour, and was always affable and well-bred. He seems to have had little intercourse with his colleagues. This was partly owing to circumstances, but partly also to their want of musical proficiency or mental cultivation, joined to their looser, less earnest mode of life. CHILDHOOD. [18] The social relations of the Mozart family were, however, cheerful and unconstrained; their intercourse with their friends had more of innocent merriment than of intellectual enjoyment. "The Salzburg mind," says Schubart,24 "is tuned to low comedy. Their popular songs are so drolly burlesque that one cannot listen to them without dying of laughter. The clownish spirit25 shines through them all, though the melodies are often fine and beautiful." This tendency would scarcely please so serious and critical a man as L. Mozart, whose humour was caustic, but not broad, and who appears to have entered with constraint into the ordinary tone of conversation.

On November 21, 1747, Leopold Mozart married Anna Maria Pertlin (or Bertlin), daughter of the steward of the Convent of St. Gilgen. "To-day is the anniversary of our wedding," wrote L. Mozart (November 21, 1772); "it is, I believe, exactly twenty-five years since we were struck with the good idea of getting married, or rather it had occurred to us many years before. But good things take time."

They were reputed the handsomest pair of their time in Salzburg, and their existing portraits do not contradict this. Frau Mozart was, as far as she can be represented by letters and descriptions, a very good-tempered woman, full of love for her family, but in no way distinguished; and the often verified experience that great men owe their gifts and their culture principally to their mothers was not proved to be true in the case of Mozart. She submitted willingly to the superiority of her husband, and left to his care and management with absolute confidence all that lay outside the sphere of the actual housekeeping. The possession by WOLFGANG'S MOTHER AND SISTER—HIS BIRTH. [19] each of those qualities necessary for the happiness of the other lay at the root of the heartfelt love and affection which bound them to each other and to their children, and the latter were provided with the surest foundation for their moral culture in the influence of a pure and harmonious family life. They were deeply attached to their cheerful, happy-tempered mother; but that she failed in authority was clear when she accompanied her son in his ill-considered visit to Paris. In spite of her better judgment she was unable either to control his impetuosity or to withstand his endearments.

Though far inferior to her husband in cultivation, she was not without understanding, and had a turn for the humorous, which characterised her as a native of Salzburg. In this respect Wolfgang was her true son.

Of seven children resulting from this union, only two survived: a daughter, Maria Anna (called Marianne or Nannerl in the family), born July 30, 1751, and a son Wolfgang, born January 27, 1756.26 His birth almost cost his mother her life, and her lingering recovery occasioned much anxiety to her friends.

The daughter showed so decided a talent for music, that her father early began to give her lessons on the clavier. This made a great impression on her brother, then but three years old; he perched himself at the clavier, and amused himself by finding out thirds, which he struck with much demonstration of delight; he also retained the more prominent passages in the pieces which he heard. In his fourth year his father began, in play, to teach him minuets and other pieces on the clavier; in a very short time he could play them with perfect correctness and in exact time. The impulse to produce something next awoke in him, and in his fifth year he composed and played little pieces, CHILDHOOD. [20] which his father then wrote down.27 A music-book which was intended for Marianne's exercises, and preserved by her as a precious relic, was in 1864 presented by the Grand Duchess Helene to the Mozarteum in Salzburg.28 It contains minuets and other little pieces, and further on longer ones, such as an air with twelve variations, and is partly filled with passages by the composers Agrell, Fischer, Wagenseil, &c., of increasing difficulty, for the purpose of instruction, in the handwriting of the father and his musical friends. Wolfgang learned from this book. The following note is appended by his father to the eighth minuet: "Wolfgangerl learned this minuet in his fourth year." Similar remarks occur repeatedly; e.g., "This minuet and trio were learned by Wolfgangerl in half-an-hour, at half-past nine at night, on January 26, 1761, one day before his fifth year." They are simple, easy pieces in two parts, but requiring an independence of the hands, not possible without a degree of musicial comprehension which is surprising in so young a child.

The first of Wolfgang's compositions have his father's superscription: "Di Wolfgango Mozart, May 11, 1762, and July 16, 1762," little pieces modelled on those he had practised, in which of course originality of invention cannot be looked for; but the sense of simple melody and rounded form so peculiar to Mozart are there already, without any trace of childish nonsense.

The book went with them on their travels, and Mozart used the blank pages to write down pieces, which afterwards appeared in the first published sonatas (1763).

Most of the anecdotes of Mozart's childhood which testify to his wonderful genius, are contained in a letter from SCHACHTNER. [21] Schachtner, which is here given entire, as the direct testimony of a contemporary.

Joh. André Schachtner (died 1795) had been court trumpeter at Salzburg from 1754, for which post a higher degree of musical attainment was necessary then than at the present day. He was not only a skilled musician, but displayed considerable literary cultivation, which he had obtained at the Jesuit school of Ingolstadt. The translation of a religious drama, "The Conversion of St. Augustine" from the Latin of Father Franz Neumayer, gained him the somewhat ambiguous praise of Gottsched, who writes: "We may even say that he wrote good German, nay, almost that he wrote good German poetry."29 We shall find him later acting as librettist to Mozart.

He was intimate in Mozart's home, and his warm attachment is proved by the following interesting letter, written soon after Mozart's death to his sister.30

Dear and honoured Madam,—

Your very welcome letter reached me, not at Salzburg, but at Hammerau, where I was visiting my son, who is coadjutor in the office of Oberwesamtmann there.

You may judge from my habitual desire to oblige every one, more especially those of the Mozart family, how much distressed I was at the delay in discharging your commission. To the point therefore!

Your first question is: "What were the favourite amusements of your late lamented brother in his childhood, apart from his passion for his music?" To this question no reply can be made, for as soon as he began to give himself up to music, his mind was as good as dead to all other concerns,31 and even his childish games and toys had to be accompanied by music. When we, that is, he and I, carried his toys from one room into another, the one of us who went empty-handed had always to sing a march and play the fiddle. But before he began to CHILDHOOD. [22] study music he was so keenly alive to any childish fun that contained a spice of mischief, that even his meals would be forgotten for it. He was so excessively fond of me—I, as you know, being devoted to him—that he used to ask me over and over again whether I loved him; and when in joke I sometimes said "No," great tears would come into his eyes, so tender and affectionate was his dear little heart.

Second question: "How did he behave to great people when they admired his talent and proficiency in music?" In truth he betrayed very little pride or veneration for rank,32 for, though he could best have shown both by playing before great people who understood little or nothing of music, he would never play unless there were musical connoisseurs among his audience, or unless he could be deceived into thinking that there were.

Third question: "What was his favourite study?" Answer: In this he submitted to the guidance of others. It was much the same to him what he had to learn; he only wanted to learn, and left the choice of a field for his labours to his beloved father.33 It appeared as if he understood that he could not in all the world find a guide and instructor like his ever memorable father.

Whatever he had to learn he applied himself so earnestly to, that he laid aside everything else, even his music. For instance, when he was learning arithmetic, tables, stools, walls, and even the floor were chalked over with figures.34

Fourth question: "What particular qualities, maxims, rules of life, singularities, good or evil propensities had he?" Answer: He was full of fire; his inclinations were easily swayed: I believe that had he been without the advantage of the good education which he received, he might have become a profligate scoundrel—he was so ready to yield to every attraction which offered.

Let me add some trustworthy and astonishing facts relating to his fourth and fifth years, for the accuracy of which I can vouch.

Once I went with your father after the Thursday service to your house, where we found Wolfgangerl, then four years old, busy with his pen. SCHACHTNER'S LETTER. [23] Father: What are you doing?

Wolfg.: Writing a concerto for the clavier; it will soon be done.

Father: Let me see it.

Wolfg.: It is not finished yet.

Father: Never mind; let me see it. It must be something very fine.

Your father took it from him and showed me a daub of notes, for the most part written over ink-blots. (The little fellow dipped his pen every time down to the very bottom of the ink-bottle, so that as soon as it reached the paper, down fell a blot; but that did not disturb him in the least, he rubbed the palm of his hand over it, wiped it off, and went on with his writing.) We laughed at first at this apparent nonsense, but then your father began to note the theme, the notes, the composition; his contemplation of the page became more earnest, and at last tears of wonder and delight fell from his eyes.

"Look, Herr Schachtner," said he, "how correct and how orderly it is; only it could never be of any use, for it is so extraordinarily difficult that no one in the world could play it."

Then Wolfgangerl struck in: "That is why it is a concerto; it must be practised till it is perfect; look! this is how it goes."

He began to play, but could only bring out enough to show us what he meant by it. He had at that time a firm conviction that playing concertos and working miracles were the same thing.

Once more, honoured madam! You will doubtless remember that I have a very good violin which Wolfgangerl used in old times to call "Butter-fiddle," on account of its soft, full tone. One day, soon after you came back from Vienna (early in 1763), he played on it, and could not praise my violin enough; a day or two after, I came to see him again, and found him amusing himself with his own little violin. He said directly: "What is your butter-fiddle about?" and went on playing according to his fancy; then he thought a little and said:

"Herr Schachtner, your violin is half a quarter of a tone lower than mine, that is, if it is tuned as it was, when I played on it last."

I laughed at this, but your father, who knew the wonderful ear and memory of the child, begged me to fetch the violin, and see if he was right. I did, and right he was, sure enough!

Some time before this, immediately after your return from Vienna, Wolfgang having brought home with him a little violin which some one in Vienna had given him, there came in one day our then excellent violinist the late Herr Wentzl, who was a dabbler in composition.

He brought six trios with him, composed during the absence of your father, whose opinion on them he came to ask. We played these trios, your father taking the bass part, Wentzl playing first violin, and I second.

Wolfgangerl begged to be allowed to play second violin, but your father reproved him for so silly a request, since he had never had any CHILDHOOD. [24] instruction on the violin, and your father thought he was not in the least able for it.

Wolfgang said, "One need not have learnt, in order to play second violin," whereupon his father told him to go away at once, and not interrupt us any longer.

Wolfgang began to cry bitterly, and slunk away with his little violin. I interceded for him to be allowed to play with me, and at last his father said: "Play with Herr Schachtner then, but not so as to be heard, or you must go away at once." So it was settled, and Wolfgang played with me. I soon remarked with astonishment that I was quite superfluous; I put my violin quietly down, and looked at your father, down whose cheeks tears of wonder and delight were running; and so he played all the six trios. When we had finished, Wolfgang grew so bold from our applause that he declared he could play first violin. We let him try for the sake of the joke, and almost died of laughter to hear him play, with incorrect and uncertain execution, certainly, but never sticking fast altogether.

In conclusion: Of the delicacy and refinement of his ear.

Until he was almost ten years old, he had an insurmountable horror of the horn, when it was sounded alone, without other instruments; merely holding a horn towards him terrified him as much as if it had been a loaded pistol. His father wished to overcome this childish alarm, and ordered me once, in spite of his entreaties, to blow towards him; but, O! that I had not been induced to do it. Wolfgang no sooner heard the clanging sound than he turned pale, and would have fallen into convulsions, had I not instantly desisted.

This is, I think, all I can say in answer to your questions. Forgive my scrawl, I am too much cast down to do better.

I am, honoured Madam,

With the greatest esteem and affection,

Your most obedient Servant,

Andreas Schachtner,

Court Trumpeter.

Salzburg,

24 April 1792

It was in January of the year 1762 that L. Mozart first turned to account the precocious talent of his children in an expedition to Munich.[25] Their visit extended over three weeks, and both Wolfgang and his sister were summoned to play before the Elector, and were well received everywhere. Their success encouraged their father to a bolder attempt, and on September 19, of the same year, they set out for Vienna.1

Their journey was made by easy stages. At Passau they remained for five days, at the request of the Bishop, who wished to hear the boy-prodigy, and having done so, rewarded him with—one ducat! Thence they proceeded to Linz. Canon Count Herberstein travelled with them, and Wolfgang's distress at seeing an old beggar-man fall into the water impressed him so much that, as Bishop of Passau, in 1785 he reminded L. Mozart of it. At Linz they gave a concert, under the patronage of Count Schlick, Governor-General of the province. Count Palfy, a young nobleman who was paying his respects to the Countess Schlick on his way through Linz, heard from her such a glowing account of the boy-prodigy that he left his travelling-carriage at the door of her residence and went with her to EARLY JOURNEYS. [26] the concert; his amazement was unbounded. From Linz they continued their journey by water. At the Monastery of Ips, while their travelling companions, two Minorite monks and a Benedictine, were saying mass, Wolfgang mounted to the organ-loft, and played so admirably that the Franciscan friars, and the guests they were entertaining, rose from table and came open-mouthed with astonishment to listen to him.

On their arrival at Vienna, Wolfgang saved his father the payment of customs duties. He made friends with the custom-house officer, showed him his harpsichord, played him a minuet on his little fiddle, and—"That passed us through!" Throughout the journey Wolfgang showed himself lively and intelligent, readily making friends, especially with officials; his engaging manners attracted as much love as his playing excited admiration.

The fame of the two children had preceded them to Vienna. Count Schlick, Count Herberstein, and Count Palfy had raised expectation to the highest pitch, and the children were assured of a good reception at court and among the nobility, who vied with each other in their devotion to everything connected with art.

The imperial family took more than a passive interest in musical affairs.2 Charles VI. was an accomplished musician, and used to accompany operatic or other performances at court upon the clavier,3 playing from the figured bass, according to the custom of conductors at the time. He caused his daughters to study music, and the future Empress Maria Theresa displayed at an early age both taste and talent. In 1725, when only seven years old, she sang in an opera by Fux, at a fête given in honour of her mother, the Empress Elizabeth. It was in allusion to this that she once, joking, told Faustina Hasse that she believed herself to be the first VIENNA, 1762—WAGENSEIL. [27] of living virtuose.4 In 1739 she sang a duet with Senesino so beautifully that the celebrated old singer was melted to tears.5 Her husband, Francis I., was also musical, and gave his children a musical education.6 The Archduchesses appeared frequently in operatic performances at court, acquitting themselves "very well for princesses."7

The Emperor Joseph sang well, and played the harpsichord and the violoncello.

Anecdotes of Mozart's genius had excited much interest at court, and on September 13, before he had even solicited the honour, L. Mozart received a command to bring his children to Schönbrunn. A quiet day was chosen, that the children might be heard without fear of interruption. Their playing surpassed all expectation, and they were afterwards repeatedly summoned to court. The Emperor took special delight in the "little magician" and enjoyed inventing new trials of skill for him. He jestingly told him that playing with all his fingers was nothing; playing with one finger would be true art; whereupon Wolfgang began to play charmingly with only one finger. Another time he told him that it would be true art to play with the keyboard covered; and Wolfgang covered the keys with a cloth, and played with as much decision and vivacity as if he could see them. This tour de force was often repeated on subsequent occasions, and always received with great applause.

But music was, generally speaking, a serious matter to Wolfgang, and even at court he refused to play except before connoisseurs. Once, seeing himself surrounded by a fashionable assemblage, he said before he began: "Is Herr Wagenseil here? Let him come; he knows something about it." (Georg Christoph Wagenseil—born in Vienna, 1688; died, 1779)—was a pupil of Fux, and one of the first EARLY JOURNEYS. [28] clavier-players and composers of his time: he taught the Empress and afterwards her children.8 The Emperor moved aside to let him come near Mozart, who exclaimed: "I am going to play one of your concertos; you must turn over for me." At court, as elsewhere, Mozart was a bright, happy child. He would spring on the Empress's lap, throw his arms round her neck and kiss her, and play with the princesses on a footing of perfect equality. He was especially devoted to the Archduchess Marie Antoinette. Once, when he fell on the polished floor, she lifted him from the ground and consoled him, while one of her sisters stood by: "You are good," said Wolfgang, "I will marry you." The Empress asked him why? "From gratitude," answered he; "she was good to me, but her sister stood by and did nothing."9 The Emperor Joseph reminded him in after years of his playing duets with Wagenseil, and of Mozart's standing in the antechamber among the audience, calling "Pfui!" or "Bravo!" or "That was wrong!" as the case might be.10

The favour of the court was further displayed in substantial honours and rewards. In addition to a gift of money Marianne was presented with a white silk court dress, belonging to one of the Archduchesses, and Wolfgang with a violet coloured suit, trimmed with broad gold braid, that had been made for the Archduke Maximilian. His father had his portrait painted in this magnificent attire. As might have been expected, the children became the rage in society; "all the ladies fell in love with the lad." The music-loving Prince von Hildburghausen, Vice-Chancellor Count Colloredo, Bishop Esterhazy, all invited the Mozarts; and before long they were indispensable at every fashionable assembly. They were generally carried to and fro in the carriage of their entertainers, and received many handsome presents of money and trinkets. This prosperous course SECOND JOURNEY, 1763. [29] was, however, suddenly interrupted by an attack of scarlet fever, which kept Wolfgang in bed for a fortnight. The dangerous part of his illness was soon over, and the greatest sympathy was everywhere expressed for him; but the fear of infection was then very great, and the interest taken in his convalescence was accompanied by considerable reluctance to his society.

An invitation from the Hungarian magnates induced L. Mozart, although he had already exceeded his leave of absence, to undertake an expedition to Pressburg on December 11. The weather was very unfavourable, and made the return journey through roadless Hungary not a little dangerous. Their stay in Vienna was not much further prolonged, and early in January, 1763, they found themselves once more in Salzburg.

Having once tested the powers and popularity of his children, Leopold Mozart could not settle contentedly in Salzburg again, and he soon determined on the bolder venture of making their talents known beyond Germany. Paris was his ultimate goal, but he intended to exhibit the children at any of the German courts which did not lie too far out of their way. The class from which at the present day the musical public, properly so called, is drawn was then altogether uncultivated; and even where there were no courts, as in the imperial towns, the nobles and rich merchants kept up similar distinctions of rank.

L. Mozart lays complacent stress upon the fact that throughout their tour, their intercourse was confined to the nobility and distinguished persons, and that both for their health's sake and the reputation of their court, they were obliged to travel noblement. Being summer, therefore, the travellers avoided the capitals and visited the country seats to which, at this season, the courts were wont to repair.11 EARLY JOURNEYS. [30] The journey began on June 9, and not prosperously; for in Wasserbrunn the carriage broke down, necessitating the delay of a whole day. "The last new thing is," writes the father, "that in order to pass the time we went to look at the organ, and I explained the pedal to Wolferl. He set to work to try it on the spot; pushed aside the stool, and preluded away standing, using the pedal as if he had practised it for months. We were all lost in astonishment. What has caused others months of practice comes to him as a gift of God." Wolfgang performed on the organ constantly throughout the journey, and was, his father says, even more admired as an organist than as a clavier-player.

Arrived at Munich on June 12, 1763, they proceeded at once to Nymphenburg, the summer residence of the Elector. Here the introduction of the Prince von Zweibrücken gained them a favourable reception, and they played repeatedly before the Elector and Duke Clement; it is specially mentioned that Wolfgang executed a concerto on the violin with cadenzas "out of his own head." Here they fell in with two travellers from Saxony, the Barons Hopfgarten and Bose, with whom they formed a cordial friendship, cemented during their stay in Paris. At Augsburg they took up their abode for a fortnight with the Mozart family, and gave three concerts, at which the audience were almost exclusively Lutherans. The Salzburg "Europàische Zeitung" (July 19, 1763) reports from Augsburg, July 9:—

The day before yesterday, Herr Leopold Mozart, Vice-Kapellmeister at Salzburg, left this place for Stuttgart, with his two precocious children. The inhabitants of his native town have fully appreciated the privilege accorded them in witnessing the manifestation of the marvellous gifts bestowed by Providence on these charming children; they recognise also how great must have been the paternal care, the result of which has been the production of a girl of eleven and, what is still more incredible, a boy of seven years old as ornaments to the musical world. The opinion pronounced on these prodigies by a correspondent from Vienna, which will be found on another page, enthusiastic as it appears, will be confirmed by all musical connoisseurs.

At Ludwigsburg, the summer residence of the Wurtemburg court, they did not succeed in obtaining audience of the Duke, although they had brought introductions from LUDWIGSBURG, 1763—JOMELLI. [31] Canon Count Wolfegg, both to the Master of the Hunt, Bar. v. Pölnitz, and to Jomelli. L. Mozart was inclined to ascribe this to the influence of Jomelli, who figured as Kapellmeister from 1754 to 1768,12 with a salary of 4,000 fl. (more correctly 3,000 fl.), the keep of four horses, fuel and lights, a house in Stuttgart and another at Ludwigsburg, and 2,000 fl. pension for his widow. Leopold Mozart announces all this to Hagenauer, with the question: "What do you think of that for a Kapellmeister's pay?" He maintained that all native artists had to suffer from Jomelli's influence, who spared no trouble to drive Germans from the court and to admit none but Italians; this was the more possible, as he was in high favour with the Duke.

He and his countrymen, of whom his house was always full, were reported to have said that it was incredible that a child of German birth could have such musical genius, and so much spirit and fire. Ridete Amici! he adds. Granted, however, that musical taste in Ludwigsburg had been thoroughly Italianised by Jomelli's influence and position,13 there is no doubt that this account of him is prejudiced and exaggerated. Metastasio pictures him as courteous and affable,14 and in Stuttgart he had the reputation of giving all due credit to German artists,15 so that L. Mozart's accusation is probably without much foundation. He himself acknowledges that Jomelli's unlimited power had been principally the cause of the excellence of musical performances in Ludwigsburg; though here again, Schubart complains that the orchestra was spoilt by the numerous amateur members who could not agree, and who were fond of introducing ornamentations in their separate parts, quite out of character with the whole.16

Of the really superior amateurs who were then at EARLY JOURNEYS. [32] Ludwigsburg L. Mozart mentions only Tartini's pupil, P. Nardini (died 1793) who "was unsurpassed in taste, purity, and delicacy of tone, but not by any means a powerful player."

From Ludwigsburg they proceeded to Schwetzingen, and presenting recommendations from the Prince von Zweibrücken and Prince Clement of Bavaria, were well received by the Elector Palatine Karl Theodor. On July 18 the court assembled to hear them from five to nine o'clock; the children set all Schwetzingen in commotion, and the electoral household were enchanted with them. L. Mozart praises the admirable flute-playing of Wendling, and speaks of the orchestra as the best in Germany, being entirely composed of young men of good birth, who were "neither tipplers, nor gamblers, nor miserable ragamuffins" (a hit at Salzburg), and who were as estimable in their private as in their professional capacity. He goes on to inform pious Frau Hagenauer, that since they left Wasser-burg they had found no holy water, and rarely a crucifix in their bedrooms, and that they found it difficult to procure fast-day meals: "Everybody eats meat, and perhaps so have we, without knowing it. After all, it is no fault of ours!"

Making an excursion to Heidelberg, Wolfgang played the organ in the Church of the Holy Spirit, and so astonished his audience that the Dean ordered his name and the particulars of his visit to be inscribed as a memorial of it on the organ. Unfortunately no trace of the inscription remains.

At Mayence, owing to the illness of the Elector, Joseph Emnrerich (von Breidtbach), they could not appear at court, but made 200 florins at three concerts. Here they met the singer, Marianne de Amicis, who was returning with her family from London.

At Frankfort, which they went out of their way to visit, Mozart's first concert, on August 18, was so successful that they decided on giving three more. The newspaper announcement, of August 30, 1763, shows what an astonishing performance was offered to the public. It runs as follows:17— FRANKFORT, COBLENZ, COLOGNE. [33] The universal admiration excited in the minds of the audience by the astounding genius of the two children of Herr L. Mozart, Kapellmeister at the Court of Salzburg, has necessitated the threefold repetition of the concert which was announced to take place on one occasion only.

In consequence, therefore, of this universal admiration, and in deference to the desire of many distinguished connoisseurs, the next and positively the last concert will take place this evening, Tuesday, August 30, in the Scharfischen Saal, on the Liebfraoenberge.

The little girl, who is in her twelfth year, will play the most difficult compositions of the greatest masters; the boy, who is not yet seven, will perform on the clavecin or harpsichord; he will also play a concerto for the violin, and will accompany symphonies on the clavier, the manual or keyboard being covered with a cloth, with as much facility as if he could see the keys; he will instantly name all notes played at a distance, whether singly or in chords on the clavier, or on any other instrument, bell, glass, or clock. He will finally, both on the harpsichord and the organ, improvise as long as may be desired and in any key, thus proving that he is as thoroughly acquainted with the one instrument as with the other, great as is the difference between them.18

Here, too, Goethe heard him. "I saw him as a boy, seven years old," he told Eckermann, "when he gave a concert on one of his tours. I myself was fourteen, and I remember the little fellow distinctly with his powdered wig and his sword."19

At Coblenz, Mozart was presented to the Elector of Treves, Johann Philipp (von Walderdorf), by Baron Walderdorf and the Imperial Ambassador, Count Bergen, and appeared at court on September 18. He was also frequently invited by the Privy Councillor and Imperial Knight von Kerpen, whose seven sons and two daughters all either sang or played some instrument. At Bonn, the Elector of Cologne, Maximilian Freidrich (Count of Konigseck-Rothenfels), being absent, they only remained long enough to see and admire the splendours of the residential palace; the magnificent beds, the baths, the picture galleries, concert halls, decorations, inlaid tables, chairs, &c.; also the numerous curiosities at Poppelsdorf and Falkenlust. At Cologne, on the other hand, they only note the "dingy cathedral." At Aix, the Princess Amalie, sister EARLY JOURNEYS. [34] to Frederick the Great, and a zealous lover and patroness of music, was taking the waters. She endeavoured to persuade L. Mozart to take his children to Berlin, but he would not alter his plans.

"She has no money," writes the practical man. "If the kisses she bestows on my children, particularly on Master Wolfgang, were each a louis d'or, we should be well off; as it is, neither our hotel bill nor our post-horses can be paid with kisses." At Brussels, where Prince Charles of Lorraine, brother of the Emperor Francis I., resided as Governor and Captain-General of the Austrian Netherlands, they were delayed some time, but succeeded in giving a grand concert.

Thence they proceeded direct to Paris, where they arrived on November 18, and were kindly received and hospitably entertained by the Bavarian ambassador, Count von Eyck. His wife was a daughter of the high chamberlain at Salzburg, Count Arco. Mozart was furnished with introductions to the most distinguished persons then in Paris; but all these were worth nothing, L. Mozart writes, in comparison with one letter given to him by a merchant's wife at Frankfort, and addressed to Grimm. Friedrich Melchior Grimm, the pupil and disciple of Gottsched,20 had lived in Paris since 1749. As secretary to Count Friesen, and afterwards to the Duke of Orleans, he had admission to the highest circles of society. His amiable disposition and the important share he took in the literary struggles of the encyclopedists gained him a still more exalted position as a sort of literary and artistic arbiter. His judgment on musical matters was eagerly sought after, and, as it came within his special province to bring to light anything out of the common way, he was of all others most fitted to appreciate Wolfgang's performances. He had genuine sympathy with his countrymen, too, and could understand such a nature as L. Mozart's. He had not yet been created baron and ambassador, was still active and energetic, and exerted all his personal and literary influence for the Mozart family. Leopold ascribes PARIS—1763-64, GRIMM, MDME. DE POMPADOUR. [ 35] all their subsequent success to this "powerful friend." "He has done everything—opened the court to us, managed the first concert, and is going to manage the second. What cannot a man do with sense and a kind heart? He has been fifteen years in Paris, and knows how to make things fall out as he wishes."

Their first object was the introduction at court. The most important personage at that time at Versailles was, of course, Madame de Pompadour. "She must have been very beautiful," writes L. Mozart to Madame Hagenauer, "for she is still comely. She is tall and stately; stout, but well proportioned, with some likeness to Her Imperial Majesty about the eyes. She is proud, and has a remarkable mind." Mozart's sister remembered in after days how she placed little Wolfgang on the table before her, but pushed him aside when he bent forward to kiss her, on which he indignantly asked: "Who is this that does not want to kiss me?—the Empress kissed me."21 The King's daughters were much more friendly, and, contrary to all etiquette, kissed and played with the children, both in their own apartments and in the public corridors. On New Year's Day the Mozart family were conducted by the Swiss guard to the supper-room of the royal family. Wolfgang stood near the Queen, who fed him with sweetmeats, and talked to him in German, which she was obliged to interpret to Louis XV. The father stood near Wolfgang, and the mother and daughter on the other side of the King, near the Dauphin and Madame Adelaide.

Once having played at Versailles, they were sure of access to the most distinguished society.22A small oil painting, now in the Museum at Versailles, shows little Wolfgang at the clavier in the salon of Prince Conti, the centre of an assemblage of great people. Finally, having established their EARLY JOURNEYS. [36] position in private society they gave two great concerts (on March 10 and April 9, 1764) in the rooms of a certain fashionable M. Felix, who had built a little theatre for private representations. The permission to give these concerts was a favour obtained with difficulty, as they infringed the privileges both of the Concert Spirituel and of the French and Italian theatres. The result was in every respect a brilliant success. Marianne Mozart played the most difficult compositions of the musicians then living in Paris, especially of Schobert and Eckart, with a precision and correctness that could not have been surpassed by the masters themselves.

Schobert was a native of Strasburg, cembalist to the Prince de Conti; as a composer he was famous for his grace and fire, especially in allegros,23 but as a man he was not all he should have been, according to L. Mozart. He was a false flatterer, his religion was à la mode, and his envy was often so ill-concealed as to excite ridicule. Eckart, on the contrary, was a worthy man, and quite free from jealousy; he had come from Augsburg to Paris in 1758, and was highly esteemed as a clavier-player and teacher.

Wolfgang's performances on the clavier, organ, and violin, extraordinary as they were, were thrown into the shade by the proofs he gave of almost incredible musical genius.24 He not only accompanied at sight Italian and French airs, but he transposed them [prima vista].

At that time, accompanying meant more than the playing of prepared passages for the piano or clavier; it involved the choice at the moment of a fitting accompaniment for the FIRST PRINTED COMPOSITIONS. [37] several parts of the score, or the supplying of harmonies to the bass.

On the other hand, the simplicity of the harmony, and the adherence to certain fixed forms, gave to such exercises facilities not afforded by the license and want of form of modern music. Grimm relates in his correspondence a truly astonishing instance of the boy's genius. Wolfgang accompanied a lady in an Italian air without seeing the music, supplying the harmony for the passage which was to follow from that which he had just heard. This could not be done without some mistakes, but when the song was ended he begged the lady to sing it again, played the accompaniment and the melody itself with perfect correctness, and repeated it ten times, altering the character of the accompaniment for each. On a melody being dictated to him, he supplied the bass and the parts without using the clavier at all; he showed himself in all ways so accomplished that his father was convinced he would obtain service at court on his return home. Leopold Mozart now thought the time was come for introducing the boy as a composer, and he printed four sonatas for the piano and violin, rejoicing at the idea of the noise which they would make in the world, appearing with the announcement on the title-page that they were the work of a child of seven years old. He thought well of these sonatas, independently of their childish authorship; one andante especially "shows remarkable taste." When it happened that in the last trio of Op. 2, a mistake of the young master, which his father had corrected (consisting of three consecutive fifths for the violin), was printed, he consoled himself by reflecting that "they can serve as a proof that Wolfgangerl wrote the sonatas himself, which, naturally, not every one would believe." The little composer dedicated his first printed sonatas (6, 7, K.), to the good-natured Princesse Victoire, both she and her sisters being very fond of music. The next (8,9, K.), were dedicated to the amiable and witty Comtesse de Tessê, lady-in-waiting to the Dauphiness.

Grimm had written a dedication in Mozart's name, in which both he and the Dauphiness were well touched off. FIRST JOURNEY. [38] To L. Mozart's vexation she declined it as too eulogistic, and a simpler one had to be substituted.

The prodigies were overwhelmed with distinctions, complimentary verses, and gifts. M. de Carmontelle, an admirable amateur portrait painter, made a charming picture of the family group;25 it was engraved by Delafosse at Grimm's instigation.

The unprecedented success of the two children was the more significant since musical culture was not nearly so predominant in Paris as in most of the German courts. "It is a pity," says Grimm, "that people in this country understand so little of music."

L. Mozart notes the standing war between French and Italian music, and the position which Grimm took up on the side of the Italians served to confirm him in his preconceived opinions. According to him none of the French music was worth a groat; in church music all the solos and everything approaching to an air, were "empty, cold, and wretched, in fact French." But he did justice to the choruses, and lost no opportunity of letting his son hear them.26 In instrumental music the German composers, among them Schobert, Eckart, and Hannauer, were beginning to make their influence felt, so much so that Le Grand27 abandoned the French style and composed sonatas after German models. The revolution to be wrought by Gluck, was as yet, indeed, not to be foreseen; but L. Mozart hoped that in ten or fifteen years the French style would be extinguished.

On April 10, 1764, the Mozart family left Paris. At Calais, Marianne notes in her diary, "how the sea runs away and comes back again." Thence they crossed to Dover in a small vessel, the packet being over full, and were very sea-sick; an experienced courier, whom they had brought with them from Paris, arranged the journey direct LONDON, 1764-65. [39] to London.28 They were heard at court on April 27, and their reception surpassed all expectation. "The favour shown to us by both royal personages is incredible," writes L. Mozart; "we should never imagine from their familiar manner that they were the King and Queen of England. We have met with extraordinary politeness at every court, but this surpasses them all. A week ago we were walking in St. James's Park; the King and Queen drove past, and although we were differently dressed, they recognised us, and the King leant out of the window smiling and nodding, especially towards Wolfgang."

George III. was a connoisseur and passionate admirer of Handel's music, and Queen Charlotte sang and played; both had German taste, and gave special honour to German artists, as Jos. Haydn found in later years.29 The Mozarts were summoned to court on May 19, and played before a limited circle from six to ten o'clock. Pieces by Wagenseil, Bach, Abel, and Handel were placed by the King before the "invincible" Wolfgang, who played them all at sight; he surpassed his clavier-playing when he sat down to the King's organ; he accompanied the Queen in a song, a flute-player in a solo, and, finally, he took the bass of an air by Handel and improvised a charming melody to it. None took more interest in the young musician than the Queen's music-master, Joh. Christian Bach,30 the son of Sebastian Bach, settled in London since 1762, and the author of several popular operas and numerous pianoforte compositions. He looked upon his art after an easy careless fashion; but his kindness and goodwill won Wolfgang's heart for ever. He liked to play with the boy; took him upon his knee and went through a sonata with him, each in turn playing a bar with so much precision that no one would have suspected two performers. He began a fugue, which Wolfgang took up and completed when Bach broke off. FIRST JOURNEY. [40] At last L. Mozart thought the time had come to introduce to the public "the greatest wonder of which Europe or the world can boast," as the grandiloquent announcement ran. Not without due calculation, the concert was fixed for June 5, the King's birthday, which was sure to bring a large public to London. The speculation succeeded, and L. Mozart "was terrified" by taking one hundred guineas in three hours—a satisfactory sum to send home. On the 29th Wolfgang played at a concert given at Ranelagh Gardens, with a charitable object, and "astonished and delighted the greatest connoisseurs in England." This prosperous career was, however, temporarily cut short; Leopold Mozart was seized with dangerous inflammation of the throat, and retired with his children to Chelsea, where they remained seven weeks before his cure was completed. During this time Wolfgang, out of consideration for his father, left his instrument untouched; but he set to work to write orchestral symphonies, and his sister tells31 how he said to her, sitting near: "Remind me to give something really good to the horn." The horn was at that time a favourite instrument in England, and in many of Wolfgang's youthful compositions it has a prominent part. The first symphony, in E flat major (1 K.), in the three usual movements, has many corrections which the boy made, partly to improve the instrumentation, partly to moderate the too rapid transition to the principal theme of the first movement. Originality is scarcely to be expected, but it is something that a due regard to form and continuity should be everywhere apparent. He worked so diligently that at the next concert it was announced that all the instrumental pieces were of Wolfgang's composition. Three symphonies (17,18,19, K.), in B flat major (with two minuets, the instrumentation not quite complete), in E flat major (with clarinets, instead of oboes, and bassoons), and in D major (Londra, 1765), which all fall within the London visit, show marked progress. The subjects are better defined, the disposition of the parts is freer and more orchestral, and some instrumental effects LONDON, 1764-65. [41] begin to be heard. On October 29, they were in town again, and invited to court to celebrate the fourth anniversary of the King's accession. As a memento of the royal favour, L. Mozart printed six sonatas for piano and violin or flute, composed by Wolfgang, and dedicated to the Queen on January 18, 1765, which dedication she rewarded with a present of fifty guineas.32 The opening of the Italian Opera House on November 24, 1764, had no small influence on Wolfgang's genius; here, for the first time, he heard singers of note. Giovanni Manzuoli (born in Florence, 1720),33 whose singing and acting were then exciting the London public to the highest enthusiasm,34 became acquainted with the Mozart family, and gave Wolfgang lessons in singing. His voice was, of course, a boyish treble; his style that of an artist. The following year, in Paris, Grimm declared that he had so profited by Manzuoli's instruction as to sing with extreme taste and feeling, notwithstanding the weakness of his voice. Thus early did Mozart acquire, as if by natural instinct, all the requisites for a great composer which are, to most men, the result of years of painful study.

During Lent, he enjoyed the opportunity of hearing Handel's Oratorios, but we hear nothing of any special influence which they may have had on his mind; indeed, he knew little of Handel in later years, until Van Swieten made him acquainted with his works.

On February 21, the "Wonder of Nature" reappeared in public at a concert which had been often postponed. The political situation and the illness of the king made the time an unfavourable one, and the receipts were not so great as had been expected.

Another concert, on May 13, took place only after repeated announcements of the approaching departure of the Wonder of Nature, and at a reduced rate. "It was quite enchanting," declares the "Salzburger Zeitung"35 "to hear the sister FIRST JOURNEY. [42] of twelve years old play the most difficult sonatas on the harpsichord, while her brother accompanied her impromptu on another harpsichord." Wolfgang performed on a harpsichord with two manuals and a pedal which the musical instrument maker Tschudi had constructed for the King of Prussia;36 Tschudi "rejoiced that his extraordinary harpsichord should be played for the first time by the most extraordinary performer in the world." After this, L. Mozart repeatedly invited the public to hear and test the young wonder in private daily from twelve to two o'clock; at first these performances took place in their own lodging, afterwards in a tavern, not of the first rank. It was promised as something extraordinary that the two children should play a duet on the same clavier with the keyboard covered. It was for these occasions that Wolfgang composed his first duet, according to L. Mozart, the first sonata for four hands ever written.

The Hon. Daines Barrington, a man highly esteemed as a lawyer and a philosopher, undertook a repeated and searching trial of the boy's skill, and has left a circumstantial report of the result.37 He obtained a copy of Wolfgang's registry of baptism, in order to be sure of his age, and made other minute inquiries concerning him. Besides the usual tests of playing difficult pieces at sight, and of singing and accompanying with proper expression a score hitherto unknown to him, he demanded an improvisation. He told Mozart to improvise a love-song such as Manzuoli might sing in some opera. The boy at once pronounced some words to serve as a recitative, then followed an air on the word affetto (love) of about the length of an ordinary love-song in the regulation two parts. In the same way he composed a song expressive of anger on the word perfido which excited him so much, that he struck the clavier like one possessed, and several times sprang up from his seat. Barrington remarks that these improvised compositions, if not very astonishing, are HOLLAND, 1765. [43] yet far above the ordinary run, and give proofs of decided inventive power. Not only has Mozart's technical education so far advanced, that he handles freely the forms and rules of composition; he begins now to display the inspired imagination of an artistic genius.

It is interesting to note the first stirrings of the dramatic element in Mozart, and how he was able already to give articulate expression to various passions as they were suggested to him.

An instance of this is a tenor song, "Va dal furor portata" (21 K.), composed in London, 1765, in which the Da capo form is rigorously adhered to, and which, though wanting in originality displays much sense of characteristic expression.

Before the end of their London stay they visited the British Museum, the natural history and ethnographical curiosities being duly noted by Marianne. In deference to an expressed wish, Wolfgang presented the Museum with his printed sonatas and with a manuscript composition (20 K.), consisting of a short madrigal in four parts, "God is our Refuge," the melody being possibly suggested.38 Notwithstanding this, the treatment of it is an extraordinary proof not only of the boy's skill, but of his readiness in apprehending and adhering to an unaccustomed form.39

On July 24, 1765, they left London, remained one day in Canterbury, and passed the rest of the month at the country seat of Sir Horace Mann. In obedience to the repeated and earnest solicitations of the Dutch Ambassador, speaking as the mouthpiece of the Princess Caroline, of Nassau-Weilburg, L. Mozart, contrary to his original plan, consented to visit the Hague. He probably lays stress on this pressing invitation to excuse his lengthened absence from Salzburg. His leave of absence had long ago expired, FIRST JOURNEY. [44] and he was repeatedly urged to hasten his return; but he was firmly resolved with God's help, to carry out what he had begun. They had proceeded as far on their journey as Lille, when Wolfgang was seized with an illness which necessitated a delay of four weeks, and from which he had not quite recovered when he was in Ghent playing on the great organ of the Church of St. Bernard. They reached the Hague in the beginning of September, and met with a very gracious reception from the Prince of Orange and his sister the Princess of Weilburg. But now, Marianne, in her turn fell dangerously ill; was delirious for a week together, and received the last sacrament. "No one," writes the father, "could have heard unmoved the interview between myself, my wife, and daughter, and how we convinced the latter of the vanity of the world and the blessedness of early death, while Wolfgang was amusing himself with his music in another room." They did not neglect to have masses for Marianne's recovery said in Salzburg.

On the Sunday that she was at her worst, Leopold opened the Gospel at the words: "Lord, come down, ere my child die;" but a new treatment of the case by Herr Schwenckel, physician to the Princess of Weilburg, was so successful, that he was soon able to acknowledge the prophetic significance of the words: "Thy daughter sleeps; thy faith hath saved thee."

Scarcely was the father relieved from this anxiety when he was subjected to a still greater trial. Wolfgang was seized with a violent attack of fever, which reduced him to extreme weakness for several weeks. But even illness did not cripple the boy's mental activity. He insisted on having a board laid across his bed, on which he could write; and even when his little fingers refused their accustomed service he could scarcely be persuaded to cease writing and playing.

In January, 1766, we find him composing a song, "Conservati fedele" (23 K.), for the Princess of Weilburg, which consists of a pleasant, flowing melody, and here and there characteristic touches, happily expressed by changes of harmony. HOLLAND, 1765-66. [45] He was able before the end of this month to go on to Amsterdam, where they spent four weeks. Wolfgang gave two concerts at which all the instrumental pieces were of his own composition. Among them was a Symphony in B flat major (22 K.), in three movements, which had been written at the Hague, and which contains noteworthy instances of thematic elaboration and well-rounded phrasing. Although it was Lent, and all public amusements were strictly forbidden, these concerts were permitted because the "exhibition of the marvellous gifts of these children redounds to the glory of God," a resolution which, though it was formulated by Lutherans, was nevertheless cordially accepted by so devout a Catholic as L. Mozart.

On March 8, 1766, they travelled back to the Hague, to assist at the festivities given in honour of the Prince of Orange, who came of age on that day. Wolfgang was ordered to compose six sonatas for piano and violin for the Princess of Weilburg, which were printed with a dedication (26 to 31, K.). In addition, he wrote several songs for the same princess, and other "trifles," which were also printed, among them pianoforte variations on an air composed for the occasion (24 K.), and upon another air, "which is sung, played, and whistled all over Holland." This was the song, "Wilhelmus von Nassau,"40 written and composed by Philipp von Mamix (d. 1598), on the Prince of Orange (d. 1584), which soon spread far and wide41 and became the national song of Holland. Mattheson cites it as an instance of a national war-song, which had inspired a whole people to great deeds, and had played an important part in the war and in the celebration of peace, in 1749.42 For one concert, Wolfgang composed an orchestral piece after the manner of a "Concerto grosso," in which a clavier obbligato was introduced with the other instruments and called it a "Galimathias musicum." Sketches for this in Wolfgang's handwriting, with his father's corrections here and there, have FIRST JOURNEY. [46] been preserved (32 K).43 After an easy andante, which serves as an introduction, come thirteen movements, generally only in two parts, varying both in measure and time. There is a variety of instrumentation unmistakably present, and the horns are specially favoured; there is one passage which imitates the bagpipes.

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The whole winds up with an elaborate movement on the first part of the national song—

which is partly fugued, partly worked out in a free imitation, showing, as one might expect, the uncertain hand of a boy. But it is plain that he was considered as an established composer. His father's talent, too, met with flattering recognition; his Violin Method was translated into Dutch, and dedicated to the Prince of Orange on his accession.44 The publisher brought it to Leopold Mozart, accompanied by the organist, who invited Wolfgang to play on the great organ at Haarlem, which he did on the following day. At length they travelled by way of Mechlin to Paris, where they arrived on May 10, and established themselves in a lodging provided by their friend Grimm. The progress made both by Wolfgang and his sister was acknowledged by all; but the public are more easily excited by the phenomenal performances of an infant prodigy than by the incomparably more important development of an extraordinary genius, and the interest in the children does not appear to have been so great as on their former visit. Nevertheless, they played repeatedly at Versailles; the Princess of Orleans, afterwards Duchess of Condé, thought herself honoured in presenting Wolfgang with a little rondo for piano and violin of her own composition.45 Prince Karl Wilhelm Ferdinand von Braunschweig, the Braunschweig Achilles, as Winckelmann calls him,46 who PARIS, SWITZERLAND, 1766. [47] had won his laurels in the seven years' war, sought them out in Paris. "He is pleasant, handsome, and amiable," writes L. Mozart, "and as soon as I went in, he asked me if I were the author of the Violin School." He had not only intelligence and good taste in music, but played the violin himself so well "that he might have made his fortune by it."47 He said of Wolfgang that many a kapellmeister had lived and died without having learnt as much as the boy knew now. He entered into competition with the most distinguished artists on the organ, the piano, or in improvisation, and either came off victor or with abundant honour. On June 12, he composed a little Kyrie for four voices with stringed accompaniment (33 K), that is precise and simple, but in style and form, and in the purity of its melody, approaches nearer to the Mozart of after life than any other composition of his boyhood.

Leaving Paris on July 9 they obeyed the summons of the Prince of Condé to Dijon, where the Estates of Burgundy were assembled. Next they stayed a month at Lyons, and made the acquaintance of a certain Meurikofer, a merchant, who was never tired of the joke of making Wolfgang sing an Italian song with spectacles on his nose. At Ghent, where they found everything in confusion, they made no stay; at Lausanne they remained five days at the request of several distinguished persons, especially of Prince Louis of Wurtemberg, brother of Duke Charles; they were a week at Berne, and a fortnight at Zurich; guests of the Gessner family, from whom they received much kindness, and parted with regret. Among other books presented to them as keepsakes, Salomon Gessner gave them a copy of his works, with the following inscription:—

Accept this gift, dear friends, in the same friendly spirit in which I offer it. May it preserve my memory fresh among you. May you, venerable parents, long enjoy the sight of the happiness of your children wherein consists the most precious fruit of their education; may they be as happy as their merit is extraordinary! In the tenderest youth FIRST JOURNEY. [48] they are an honour to their country and the admiration of the world. Happy parents! happy children! Never forget the friend whose esteem and love for you will never be less lively than at this moment.

Salomo Gesner.

Zurich, August 3, 1766.

Taking Winterthur and Schafhausen by the way, they journeyed to Donaueschingen, where they were expected by Prince Joseph Wenzeslaus von Fürstenberg. They remained here twelve days, and played every evening from five to nine o'clock, always producing some novelty; they were richly rewarded by the Prince, who was moved to tears at their departure. At Biberach, Count Fugger von Babenhausen arranged an organ competition between Wolfgang and Sixtus Bachmann, who was two years older than Wolfgang, and had attracted great admiration by his musical performances. "Each tried his utmost to surpass the other, and the competition increased the fame of both."48 Then they went by way of Ulm, Günzburg, and Dillingen to Munich. Arriving here on November 8, they dined with the Elector on the following day. Wolfgang sat next to him and composed a piece in pencil, taking for theme a few bars which the Elector hummed to him; this piece he played after dinner to the astonishment of all the party.

An indisposition with which Wolfgang was here seized seems to have put a stop to a journey to Regensburg which had been planned, and about the end of November, 1766, the Mozart family re-entered Salzburg.

LEOPOLD MOZART [49]had every reason to be satisfied with the result of his tour; the extraordinary talents of his children had been duly appreciated,1 honours of every kind had been heaped upon them, and the three years exertions had produced a not inconsiderable pecuniary gain.2 In spite of repeated, and sometimes severe, attacks of illness, the children returned to Salzburg in full health and vigour, and, what was of not less importance, with their childlike simple minds unspoiled by the exceptional degree of notice and admiration they had everywhere excited. The little Orpheus rode round the room on his father's stick, and sprang up to play with his favourite cat, in the middle of his improvisations on the clavier.

During the journey he had amused himself by constructing an imaginary kingdom, which he called Rücken; it was inhabited by children, of whom he was king, and his invention of fresh gifts and qualities for his kingdom and subjects was inexhaustible. So vividly was it impressed on his imagination, that he made a servant, who was something of a draughtsman, draw a map of it, to which he supplied the names of the places.3 A very favourite idea of his was to compose an opera, to be performed entirely by young Salzburgers, of whom he drew up a list with his father. His tenderness of heart was constantly displayed. One morning on awaking, he began to cry bitterly, and STUDY IN SALZBURG. [50] being asked the reason, answered that he longed to see his friends in Salzburg, all of whom he then mentioned by name. When he heard that Hagenauer's son Dominicus had entered the Monastery of St. Peter's he burst into tears, imagining that he should never see him again. Reassured on this point, he planned a visit to St. Peter's immediately on his return home, and talked of the games that he and his friend would play together.

Occasionally, Wolfgang displayed a considerable amount of self-assertion. A gentleman of rank in Salzburg was uncertain how to address the boy in conversation. The formal pronoun Sie appeared unbefitting a child, while Du was too familiar for so celebrated an artist; he took refuge in Wir, and began: "So we have been in France and England"—"We have been introduced at court"—"We have been honoured"—when Mozart interrupted him hastily: "And yet, sir, I do not remember to have seen you anywhere but in Salzburg."

But L. Mozart's satisfaction was not entirely without alloy. He was too intimately acquainted with the Salzburg court to feel certain of obtaining such a position as would enable him to educate his children in a way befitting their talents. On this point he had written to Hagenauer, shortly before their return:—

Everything depends on my having a position at home which is suitable to my children. God (all too merciful to me, miserable sinner) has endowed my children with such genius that, laying aside my duty as a father, my ambition urges me to sacrifice all else to their education. Every moment lost, is lost for ever, and if I never realised before how precious the time of youth is, I know it now. You know that my children are accustomed to work; if they once had an excuse for idleness, such as an inconvenient house, or want of opportunity for study, my whole fabric would fall to the ground. Custom is an iron path, and Wolfgang has still much to learn. But how shall we be treated in Salzburg? Perhaps we shall be only too glad to take our knapsacks on our backs and be off again. At any rate, I offer my children to my country. If it will have none of them, that is not my fault, and will be my country's loss.

So shrewd a man of the world had no idea of burying the pound that might produce such excellent interest. INSTRUCTION IN COUNTERPOINT. [51] The uneventful stay of nearly a year which L. Mozart made with his children in Salzburg was employed in mechanical practice, and perhaps still more in the study of composition. A detailed account of these studies is not obtainable; but L. Mozart's wise and earnest views, his clear apprehension that genius entails twofold labour and exertion on its possessor, leave no doubt as to the severity and thoroughness of his instruction to his son. An exercise book containing exercises in thorough-bass and counterpoint is preserved in the Mozarteum at Salzburg, bearing no date, but evidently falling within this period. The intervals and scales are followed by a long list of short lessons on a given melody generally in three parts, to be worked out harmonically and according to the different kinds of simple counterpoint. (Nota contra notam; duoy quatuor nota contra notam; cum ligaturis; floridum.) The choral tunes which serve as Cantus firmus are taken from Fux's Gradus ad Pamassum, which was no doubt employed as a textbook. 4 The lessons, corrections, and brief notes are generally in the father's writing, the working out and the fair copies of the corrected lessons are of course made by Wolfgang; on one occasion he jokingly notes the different parts as Il Sign. d'Alto, il Marchese Tenore, il Duca Basso. An observation of the compositions of this period, which are still preserved, will show us the result of the studies.

Archbishop Sigismund,5 incredulous of Wolfgang's powers, caused him, so Barrington says, to be locked up for a week, seeing no one, during which time he was to compose an oratorio, for which the Archbishop provided the subject. Wolfgang stood the test triumphantly, and the oratorio was publicly performed, with great success, during Lent, 1767.

This composition (35 K.) was printed in Salzburg (1767) with the title:— STUDY IN SALZBURG. [52] The Obligation of the First and Greatest Commandment, Mark 12, v. 30: Thou shalt love the Lord Thy God with all thy hearty with all thy mind, with all thy soul, and with all thy strength.

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After this preface, the declaration "that there is no more dangerous state for the soul than lukewarmness in the work of salvation" is given as a reason for this musical representation "by which it is intended not only to delight the mind but to elevate the soul."

In the first part the understanding and judgment of the lukewarm Christian are stirred by the loving and indefatigable zeal of the Christian Spirit, with the assistance of Divine Mercy and Justice. In the second part, right FIRST ORATORIO, 1767. [53] judgment is victorious, the will is prepared for surrender, to be finally and completely freed from fear and wavering in the third and last part.

The verses, richly garnished with Latin texts, have quite the prosaic bombastic character of the period.

Mozart's original score6 has the title in his father's writing: "Oratorium di Wolfgango Mozart composto nel mese di Marzo, 1766." As they were then in the Netherlands, we must suspect an error. But the date 1766 is established by the "10 years old" on the title-page; he must have set to work immediately after his return, quite at the end of 1766, and the representation must have taken place in March of the following year.

The score, which fills 208 pages, bears unmistakable traces of boyish workmanship in the blotted notes, and in the uncertain writing and spelling of the text of the songs (that of the recitatives is in another and a firmer handwriting), but there is not a sign of boyishness in the music itself. The whole composition is modelled on the Italian oratorio, and shows a complete mastery of its forms. The introductory symphony is an allegro in the usual two parts, simple in its execution, and with no actual thematic elaboration, but precise and well rounded. The dialogue is in recitative, and maintained throughout with correct declamation, here and there displaying a fine sense of fitting expression, which tells more for the independent power of comprehension than even the surprising technical skill exhibited. Here and there comes an accompanied recitative, with an effort after originality, depending chiefly on the expression of the words, which are poor stuff in most cases. For instance, after the lines—

STUDY IN SALZBURG. [54]

which have been given in secco-recitative, comes the strongly accented passage:—[See Page Image] FIRST ORATORIO, 1767. [55] They are in the usual form, the principal subject elaborated and repeated after a short intermediate subject, with ritornellos differing in length and character, according to the commonly accepted varieties. The perfect decision of style and composition leaves the inexperienced hand of the scholar hardly visible, and it is plain that the boy has taken in and turned to account all that he has heard. But although the work may be considered on a level with most of the similar compositions of the time, it cannot be said to be distinguished from them by individual character. It conforms on all important points to the Italian style, although there is now and then a sentimental colouring suggested by Graun's German verses.

The melodies are simple and good, with here and there a pure and dignified phrase, and a delicate expression of deep feeling. Witness the passage in the second soprano air, "Du wirst von deinem Leben genaue Rechnung geben," which is afterwards well made use of in the recitative. The very moderate embellishment of the whole work is in great measure the father's addition. The third tenor air rises above the level of the rest; the words, although themselves certainly not inspired, have given opportunity for the expression of a tender earnest mood in a charming flowing melody whose well-chosen harmonies and admirable instrumentation shadow forth unmistakably the later Mozart. He must himself have felt the charm of this air, for, as we shall see, he repeated it in his first opera. The finale of the oratorio is a pleasing terzet for two soprani and tenor, with the parts in easy imitation. The orchestra is the usual one of the day, stringed instruments, bassoons, seldom used independently, two horns, and two oboes, sometimes replaced by two flutes. The parts are, as was usual, carefully put together, but without any pretence to more than technical skill; only the second tenor air has an obbligato alto trombone accompaniment suggested by a reference in the text to the trump of doom.7

STUDY IN SALZBURG. [56]

A little cantata for two voices was also evidently composed for this Lent. It bears the title "Grab-Musik, 1767" (42 K.), and is a dialogue between the Soul and an Angel, the verses having a decided smack of the local poet of Salzburg. The Soul is intrusted to a bass voice, which was not employed in the oratorio. The cantata begins at once with a Recitative for the Soul:

Then follows the air—

Here Wolfgang has striven to express the somewhat whining pathos of the text both by the voice and the instruments, and the result is a bravura song, handled with great skill. There can be no doubt that this song made a great effect at the time, though its want of good taste shocks us now. The succeeding soprano air, on the other hand, which closes with the warning— [See Page Image] GRAB-MUSIK, 1767. [57] expresses a soft, not unpleasing sentimental mood, which is still more toned down in the concluding duet. Yet even here we have fanciful passages—accepted at the time as legitimate both in music and poetry, as corresponding to a complex state of feeling.

For a later performance, probably before 1775, Mozart added a final chorus, introduced by a short recitative, in unjson throughout, thus bringing the whole piece simply and melodiously to a conclusion. A little song (146 K.): "Kom-met her, ihr frechen Sünder, seht den Heyland aller Welt," not in any way remarkable, belonging probably to the beginning of 1770, was also intended for a Lenten performance.

Not long after Wolfgang's return from Paris, he paid a visit to the Monastery of Seeon, where he was on friendly terms with the monks. During dinner the abbot expressed his regret that no offertory had been composed for the festival of St. Benedict. Wolfgang took advantage of the first pause STUDY IN SALZBURG. [58] to leave the dining-hall, and leaning on the ledge of the window opposite the door, he wrote his offertory "Scande coeli limina" (34 K.). It begins with a pleasing soprano solo, a gentle flowing melody accompanied by the violins; then comes a lively chorus with drums and trumpets, somewhat cramped in style and pedantic in the imitative arrangement of its parts.

Among the monks was a certain Herr v. Haasy, called Father Johannes, who was very fond of Wolfgang. The boy sprang towards him as soon as he entered the monastery, climbed on his neck and stroked his cheeks, singing the while:—

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This scene excited great amusement, and the monks were never tired of teasing him about his tune. When the fête-day of Father Johannes came round, Wolfgang presented him with an offertory (72 K.). It begins in a joyous burst with the words (Matth. xi. 11), "Inter natos mulierum non surrexit maior"; then with the words "Ioanne Baptista" he introduces the above melody as a birthday greeting to his friend. Apart from this charming display of childish affection, the offertory, which in any case belongs to his early boyhood, is a beautiful piece of music. The subject, which is pursued throughout with a natural, easy movement of the parts, has the caressing little melody running through it, and is twice interrupted by the words (S. John i. v. 29), "Ecce Agnus Dei qui tollit peccata mundi," given in a quiet, serious manner, that has a charming effect. The greeting breaks out once more in the "Alleluia," which ends the piece.8

In the spring of 1767, Wolfgang again came forward as a composer in his native town.

It was the general custom at the university to celebrate the close of the scholastic year by a dramatic representation APOLLO ET HYACINTHUS. [59] among the students. In the year 1661, a large theatre, supplied with twelve scenes, was built to replace the smaller one hitherto used, and excited great admiration.9 According to custom, a Latin play, written by the Professor of Poetry, or some other ecclesiastic, was represented by the "Benedictine Muses," i.e., by the students. The subject was taken from the Old or New Testament, more rarely from heathen mythology, and was always intended to point some particular moral.10 Following an old usage, musical portions were interspersed through the tragedy or comedy, as they were also in the Italian spoken drama, so that a short Latin opera of a congenial tendency, with one part serving as a prologue, was introduced between the acts of the drama, just as in the opera seria the intermezzi or ballets came between the acts. Members of the chapel undertook the composition, and some of the singers assisted the performance by taking the more difficult parts.

On May 13, 1767, the Syntax, that is, the students of the second class, performed the tragedy, "dementia Croesi." This time the musical supplement was entitled "Apollo et Hyacinthus seu Hyacinthi Metamorphosis," and composed by Wolfgang, who is set forth in the printed text-book thus: Auctor operis musici nobilis dominus Wolfgangus Mozart, un-decennis, filius nobilis ac strenui domini Leopoldi Mozart, Capello Magistri.

The old myth is treated with considerable freedom, after the manner of an Italian opera; for the edification of pious youth Melia becomes the beloved of Apollo and Zephyrus, Hyacinthus a comparatively insignificant personage. The piece ends en règle with a betrothal. A regular dramatic treatment is not even attempted, only long detached airs and duets, old-fashioned in style and form, and adapted of necessity to the Latin text. The dialogue is in Iambics, the choruses and songs are rhymed. The text is correct enough, but devoid of taste, and imitates in some particulars the STUDY IN SALZBURG. [60] libretti of the Italian opera. After a short overture in two parts, simple and well put together, the action begins with a recitative between Hyacinthus and Zephyrus, who betrays his love for Melia and jealousy of Apollo; Æbalus and Melia appear and sacrifice to Apollo, who is invoked by the chorus:—

The sacrifice is not accepted; a thunderbolt scatters them all, and Æbalus tries to reassure Hyacinthus in an air:—

Then Apollo appears, and begs for the protection of Æbalus, Jupiter having banished him; after many civilities on either side, Apollo returns thanks in an air. Hereupon follow the two first acts of the tragedy. Then Æbalus informs his daughter that Apollo demands her in marriage; she willingly consents, and expresses her delight in an elaborate air.

But now comes in Zephyrus with the tidings that Hyacinthus is slain by Apollo. Melia thereupon declares that she cannot accept him, OEbalus wishes to banish him, and Zephyrus expresses in an air the hopes to which these APOLLO ET HYACINTH US. [61] events give birth. Then enters Apollo, overwhelms Zephyrus with abuse, and causes him to be borne away by the winds; Melia, enraged by this fresh deed of violence, reproaches Apollo, and a duet follows, in which she rejects and dismisses him, while he bewails his love and her cruelty.

Hereupon follow the third and fourth acts of the tragedy. Then Hyacinthus is borne in dying, and declares in an accompanied recitative that Zephyrus is his murderer, which gives occasion to Æbalus to rage duly in an air, followed by a duet between him and Melia, dreading the anger of the offended god. But Apollo appearing, changes Hyacinthus into a flower, extends his forgiveness to Æbalus and Melia, and betrothes himself to the latter.

A concluding terzet expresses the general satisfaction.

This composition manifests throughout great decision of style, and in many respects a very marked progress. The songs—in the old-fashioned aria form—are more freely treated, the handling of the parts is more independent, and a disposition to the imitative form is more marked than heretofore. In the duet between Melia and Æbalus, for instance, and in the first chorus, where the voices are treated harmonically, the violins have an imitative phrase in the accompaniment.

Mistakes here and there in the text prove Wolfgang's Latin to be still that of a learner. A droll little note written in 1769, to Madame Hagenauer, shows that he was then working hard at it. The note runs as follows:—

Dear Friend,—I hope you will excuse the liberty I take in troubling you with these few lines; but since you told me yesterday that you understood everything, and that I might write Latin to you as much as I chose, I cannot refrain from sending you at once some Latin lines, and when you have read them please send the answer back by one of your own servants, for our girl cannot wait. (But you must send me the answer in a letter.)

Cuperem scire, de qua causa, à quam plurimis adolescentibus ottium usque adeo æstimetur, ut ipsi se nec verbis, nec verberibus, ab hoc sinant abduci.

Even if the text were translated and explained to him, it would have been strange if he had found no difficulty in the STUDY IN SALZBURG. [62] language; and it is only another proof of the boy's musical apprehension that his setting of the familiar German sacred texts has a more distinctive character than that of this piece of declamatory school rhetoric; the mere fact of being set to produce a brilliant work as a task had its influence on the music, which is cold and stiff, and sometimes devoid of taste. No doubt the long passages, the peculiar turns given to the pompous or amorous melodies, all that appears to us most tiresome was then most loudly applauded, and the truly surprising ability shown in the working out may have passed at that time for original productive power, which is just what we cannot grant it to have been. Still, there are not wanting signs even of this, and the young artist asserts his individuality at once whenever he has to express a simple emotion, such as he can comprehend and enter into.

There is a little solo in the first chorus (G major, 3-4) which, in its expressive simplicity, almost reminds us of Gluck. Again, in the duet between Melia and Obalus there is a long well-worked-out cantilene, which is not without beauty and expression, and is further distinguished by original instrumentation. In this the first violins (muted) lead the melody, the second violins and bass accompany pizzicato, two tenors coll' arco, and two horns are introduced; a very striking variation on the otherwise simple orchestral accompaniment, consisting of the string quartet, two oboes, and two horns.

The duet between Melia and Apollo shows most dramatic talent, being the only expression of an exciting situation and contrasting emotions. The recitatives are not distinguished by characteristic expression in the same degree as those of the sacred pieces; they are easy and flowing, but quite in the style of the ordinary recitative of Italian opera; no doubt because Mozart felt that such an expression of feeling as suited the elevated, lyrical emotions of the cantata was unsuited to the dialogue of an opera.

It is an astonishing proof of the productiveness and constant industry of the young composer that, between December and May, three important works were completed and performed. In the summer of 1767 we find him preparing VIENNA, 1767. [63] [See Page Image]

for a journey to Vienna, and composing four clavier concertos (37,39-41 K.), in F (April), B flat ( June), D and G major ( July), with the usual orchestral accompaniment; once, only, trumpets are added. The form is the usual one in three movements, like the symphony. The compositions are not above the ordinary level, and have little either of original or technical interest. It is noteworthy that even in these works, which were to serve as show pieces, we can trace no signs of boyish pleasure in odd or artificial effects; the love of tuneful melody, and the endeavour to blend the orchestra and the solo part into an harmonious whole, are as observable in his first compositions as in his last.

[63]

THE approaching marriage of the Archduchess Maria Josepha with King Ferdinand of Naples furnished Leopold Mozart with a pretext for repairing to Vienna with his whole family; this he did in the beginning of September,

1767, with every expectation that the public of that brilliant capital would recognise the progress made by Wolfgang since their former visit.1

They travelled quickly; were invited to dine with the Bishop at Lambach; and at the Monastery of Mölk, where Wolfgang tried the organ, his playing was at once recognised by the organist.

Misfortune awaited them at Vienna. The charming and universally beloved Princess Josepha fell ill of the small-pox, which carried her off in less than a month. This, of course, put a stop to any appearance at court, or at the houses of the nobility.

Leopold Mozart had been advised when in Paris to follow the example of the Duke of Orleans, who had set the fashion THE FIRST OPERA IN VIENNA. [64] of inoculation with his own children in 1756, and to "graft the small-pox" in his little boy. "But I prefer," he wrote (February 22, 1764), "to leave it all in God's hands; let Him, in His divine mercy, dispose as He will of the life of this wonder of nature." Now, however, he took instant flight to Olmütz with his children, but they did not escape; first Wolfgang sickened, then Marianne. Count Leopold Anton von Podstatzky, Dean of Olmütz and Canon of Salzburg (which would account for his acquaintance with Mozart), out of compassion to the distracted father, took the whole family into his house, making light of the risk of infection. In the deanery, well cared for, and skilfully doctored, the children passed through all stages of the disease, which, with Wolfgang at least, was so severe, that he lay blind for nine days.

"Again is the saying proved true," writes L. Mozart: "In Te Domine speravi, non confundar in æternum." "What extraordinary and unexpected good fortune it was that Count P. should have been willing to receive a child with the small-pox! I cannot tell you with what kindness and goodness we were treated; who else would have received a family under such circumstances, and that from an impulse of pure humanity? This good deed shall redound to the honour of the Count in the biography of our little one which I intend to publish some day, for I consider that it is the commencement of a new epoch in his life."

He endeavoured also to bring about an expression "of gratitude, or at all events of approbation" on the part of the Archbishop towards the Count. For several weeks after his recovery, Wolfgang was obliged to be very careful of his eyes, and his daily visitor, the Archbishop's chaplain, Hay, afterwards Bishop of Konigsgràz (brother to Frau von Sonnenfels),2 strove to relieve the tedium of his enforced idleness by teaching him card-games, in which the boy soon became as great an adept as his instructor. He threw himself with the same zeal into the practice of fencing, IMPERIAL CONDESCENSION—VIENNA, 1768. [65] having at all times a great love of exercises demanding bodily activity.3 When his recovery was complete, he composed an aria for the little daughter of his physician, Wolf, of which her father reminded him in later years (May 28, 1778).

On their return journey to Vienna they stayed for a fortnight at Brunn, where they were received with great kindness by Count Franz Anton Schrattenbach, brother to Archbishop Sigismund, of Salzburg: all the nobility residing at Brünn treated them with the "highest distinction."

But at Vienna, which they re-entered at the beginning of January, 1768, difficulties crowded thick upon them. At court, indeed, their reception took place sooner than they had dared to hope. The Empress Maria Theresa had scarcely recovered from the small-pox, when she remembered her admiration of the children, and sent for the family.

The Emperor himself came into the ante-chamber, and conducted them to his mother, no other person being present but Duke Albert of Sachsen-Teschen, and the Archduchesses. They passed two hours in the midst of this family circle. The Empress, a motherly woman, conversed intimately with Frau Mozart, and questioned her on all details of the children's illness, pressing her hands and stroking her cheeks compassionately, while the Emperor discussed musical and other matters with Wolfgang and his father, and "made Nannerl blush very often."

This unusual condescension was gratifying to the patriotic feelings of the Mozart family, but it was not directly profitable. The Empress presented them with a pretty medal of small value; but as she had visited neither the opera nor the theatre since the death of her consort, and had discontinued all musical parties, a summons to play at court could only come from the Emperor. But Joseph showed little inclination to liberality in the cause of art, and others, besides L. Mozart, complained of his parsimony. THE FIRST OPERA IN VIENNA. [66] The nobility followed the example of the court, and avoided any appearance of extravagance in order to ingratiate themselves with the Emperor. Dancing was the only amusement during the carnival, but, whereas, formerly the nobles vied with each other in costly entertainments, at which distinguished artists were nearly always present, they now gave their balls in public rooms and at small expense. L. Mozart suspects that the court made its advantage by this, contracting for all dances, masquerades, and balls, and sharing the profits with the contractor. Under these circumstances, the good recommendations Mozart had brought with him were of little use. He had letters to the Master of the Horse, Count von Dietrichstein, who was high in the Emperor's favour, to Fräulein Josepha Guttenberg, "the Empress's right hand," and to the court physician, L'Augier,4 a travelled and accomplished man of considerable talent, and excellent judgment in music; all that was refined and cultivated in Viennese society flocked to his assemblies. Among Mozart's patrons was also Duke Joh. Carl v. Braganza, a man of the first importance, who had proved his spirit and courage at the earthquake of Lisbon, and as a volunteer in the Austrian army;5 frequent travels had increased his knowledge and enlarged his views;6 he was an excellent companion and a thorough musical connoisseur.7

Gluck dedicated to him his "Paride ed Elena" (1770), and in the well-known dedication explained that he sought in the Duke, not so much a patron as a judge, of thorough knowledge, fine taste, and unprejudiced opinions.

The Mozarts were further favourably noticed by Prince Kaunitz, an elegant connoisseur, but a man of such exaggerated anxiety on the subject of his health, that he would not admit Wolfgang into his presence as long as the traces of the small-pox remained on his face. MUSIC IN VIENNA, 1768. [67] But the Viennese generally were not enthusiastic for art. Leopold Mozart gives the following account of them:—

The Viennese public, as a whole, has no love of anything serious or sensible; they cannot even understand it; and their theatres furnish abundant proof that nothing but utter trash, such as dances, burlesques, harlequinades, ghost tricks, and devil's antics will go down with them. You may see a fine gentleman, even with an order on his breast, laughing till the tears run down his face, and applauding with all his might some piece of senseless buffoonery; whilst in a most affecting scene, where the situation and action are alike irresistibly fine and pathetic, and where the dialogue is of the highest order, he will chatter so loud with a lady that his better-informed neighbours can scarcely hear a word of the play.

Recollecting the efforts that were being made just at this time by Sonnenfels and his colleagues to introduce a higher style of entertainment in Vienna,8 this description will not appear exaggerated. Indeed, L. Mozart fails to animadvert on the main entertainment of the Viennese, the barbarous baiting of wild animals. Under these circumstances, it is conceivable that the same people who raved about the performances of the little prodigy, felt little interest in the development of an artist's genius. To this passive indifference on the part of the public was added the active opposition of envious musicians living by their profession, who had been ready to applaud the precocity of a child, but who saw with quite other eyes the arrival in their midst of an accomplished musician ready to meet them on their own ground.

L. Mozart says of them:—

I soon found that all the clavier-players and composers in Vienna were in opposition to us, Wagenseil only excepted, who, being ill, could be of little use to us. The plan adopted by these people was to avoid all opportunities of seeing us or of learning the extent of Wolfgang's attainments. Why was this? In order that when they were asked whether they had heard the boy, and what they thought of him, they might reply in the negative, and deny the possibility of what they were told; that they might assert his performances to be impostures and THE FIRST OPERA IN VIENNA. [68] mere buffoonery, got up beforehand, and all that he pretended to compose to have been previously learnt. Now you see why they avoided us. They knew very well that if they saw and heard they would not have a word to say without the risk of losing their honour. But I set a trap for one of these good folks. I persuaded some one to give me quiet notice of his presence, and to induce him to bring an extraordinarily difficult concerto, which was to be laid before Wolfgang. This all took place, and he had the satisfaction of hearing his concerto played by Wolfgang as if he knew it by heart. The astonishment of this composer and clavier-player, the expressions of which he made use in his admiration, let us all into the secret of what I have told you above. He ended by saying: "I must honestly declare my opinion that this boy is the greatest musician in the world; I could not have believed it."

But a solitary triumph of this sort could not do much against the secret enmity of an envious cabal. The Emperor himself furnished a better weapon by a proposal which was calculated to display Wolfgang's powers in the most brilliant light. He ordered him to compose an opera, and intimated a wish that the boy should himself conduct the work at the clavier.

Both father and son eagerly seized on this proposal, the more so as success would not only insure their position in Vienna, but would pave the way for the young artist to Italy and the Italian stage.

The Emperor announced his wish to the theatrical manager, Affligio. Leopold Mozart, knowing that the fate of an opera greatly depends on the performers, strove to win the goodwill of the artists, male and female; this was not difficult to accomplish, for it was felt that unusual applause would be given to the work of so young an artist, and Affligio was urged on all sides to undertake the production of the work. He was ready enough to consent; and concluded a contract to produce the opera, with an honorarium to the composer of 100 ducats.

The singers available for opera seria were not by any means of the first rank.

On September 29, 1767, L. Mozart gives as his opinion that Hasse's opera ("Partenope") is fine, but the singers, considering the occasion, indifferent; Tibaldi was the tenor; Rauzzini, of Munich, the best male soprano; the GLUCK'S "ALCESTE." [69] prima donna was Elizabeth Deiberin (Teyber), daughter of a Viennese court violinist, and pupil of Tesi and Hasse. Gluck had not been willing to entrust his "Alceste" to these singers. "Alceste" was brought out in Vienna on December 16, 1767; Bemasconi made a great sensation as Alceste, but Tibaldi took Admetus. The Mozarts were then at Olmtitz, but they had an opportunity on their return of hearing what L. Mozart calls "Gluck's melancholy 'Alceste.'"

It is a remarkable coincidence, that in the act of writing his first opera, Wolfgang should have witnessed in Gluck's "Alceste" the most marked attempt yet made for the reform of dramatic music; and it is not unlikely that early association may have been partly the cause that he afterwards studied "Alceste" with unquestionable partiality.

L. Mozart's ideas were too firmly rooted in the tradition of Italian music to enable him to appreciate Gluck's innovations. That the public in general were of his opinion is evident from Sonnenfels' mimicry of the gossip, not of the gallery, but of the boxes of the nobility:—

"This is edifying! Nine days without a play, and on the tenth we get a De profundis—What? This is meant to be pathetic? Well, perhaps we shall shed a few tears presently—from ennui."

"Come, this is throwing money away! It is too absurd, a fool of a woman dying for her husband!"

The members of the Opera Buffa, on the contrary, were of first-rate excellence;9 the die was cast, therefore, for an opera buffa. The text was furnished by Marco Coltellini, who had been "Theatrical Poet" in Vienna since 1764, and in 1772 was made "Imperial Poet" at the court of St. Petersburg. He wrote after the manner of Metastasio, who complimented him highly;10 his principal libretti were for Gassmaun ("Amore THE FIRST OPERA IN VIENNA. [70] Psiche"), Hasse ("Piramo Tisbe"), Salieri ("Armida"),11 and for Mozart "La Finta Semplice," in three Acts (51 K). Wolfgang set to work at once in order that the opera might be ready by Easter. As soon as the first act was completed it was distributed among the singers, who expressed their entire satisfaction and admiration. But delay was caused by the poet, who proceeded so leisurely with the alterations in the text required both by composer and performers, that he had not finished them until after Easter. Mozart, nothing daunted, composed eagerly and industriously, wrote new airs whenever they were demanded, and had soon completed the score of 25 numbers and 558 pages, in three parts. In the meantime intrigues were set on foot from all sides to hinder the production of the opera. Advantage was taken of a natural feeling of repugnance at seeing a boy of twelve years old conducting in the place usually occupied by Gluck. Leopold suspected Gluck of being concerned in these intrigues. It is true he wrote at first: "I have brought Gluck over to our side, and even if he is not quite sincere, he has to keep it to himself, for his patrons are also ours;" but later he says, in plain language: "So far, all the composers, with Gluck as their leader, have left no stone unturned to hinder the progress of this opera." The decision with which Gluck proceeded on the path he had marked out for himself may have caused him to take less interest in Mozart's youthful genius than seemed to the father right, and the latter may have been still further repelled by Gluck's unsociable manners;12 but envy and intrigue directed against struggling talent are inconsistent with the composer's proud and upright character. Nevertheless, the music was condemned beforehand as being "not worth a groat, suiting neither the words nor the metre, in consequence of the boy's not understanding Italian sufficiently well." Thereupon Leopold caused Hasse, a man honoured for his reputation, beloved for his gentle disposition, and justly called the "father of music,"13 and Metastasio, as the PROFESSIONAL INTRIGUES. [71] highest authority, to pronounce their opinion in opposition to Gluck and Calsabigi,14 that of thirty operas produced in Vienna Wolfgang's was incomparably the best, and worthy of the highest admiration.

Then the mode of attack was changed. The composition, it was said, was not Wolfgang's at all, but his father's. This assertion also could be disproved. At a large assembly, where there were present Prince Kaunitz, Duke of Braganza, Bono, Kapellmeister to the Prince von Hildburghausen,15 Metastasio, and Hasse, a favourite volume of Metastasio was opened, and a song taken at random was given to Mozart to compose and write down with orchestral accompaniments—a proof which at least left no doubt of the boy's technical skill and readiness. Niemetschek confirms this through the testimony of "credible persons," who had been present at similar tests.

In spite of all L. Mozart's exertions the unceasing slanders issuing from "the stirred-up hell of music" reached at last the artists who were to represent the opera. The orchestra were encouraged to resent the leadership of a boy; the singers, although they had one and all declared themselves fully satisfied with the music, now that they saw the strength of the opposition, began to fear the effect of the opera before the public. It became their interest to postpone its production, and to shrug their shoulders over the composition whenever they saw an opportunity.

L. Mozart complains bitterly of the duplicity of the singers, some of whom scarcely knew their notes, and had to learn everything by ear, and assures Count Zeil, who thought that all the musicians were in Wolfgang's favour, that he must not judge from the outside, but must learn the "innate malice of the creatures."

Soon the impresario, who had undertaken the production of the opera chiefly on account of the effect likely to be produced by the boyish age of the composer, began to reflect on THE FIRST OPERA IN VIENNA. [72] the risk he was running, and to draw back. Affügio was an adventurer and a gambler, who had procured an officer's commission by swindling, and had risen to be lieutenant-colonel; his utter want of sympathy with art was illustrated by the anecdote that being present at a bull-baiting where two dogs were pitted against a Hungarian ox, he remarked to a friend, "Believe me, I prefer these dogs to Aufrene and Neuville" (two excellent actors, then high in favour with him).16 His name acquired an unhappy immortality by the share which he took more than once in the struggle of the legitimate drama against the buffoonery of the age.17 He was at last sent to the galleys for forgery, and there ended his career.18

With such a man as this had Mozart to do. He postponed the opera on every possible pretext from Easter to Whitsuntide, then to the Emperor's return from Hungary, and so on continually, putting one opera after the other into rehearsal, and as often as L. Mozart wrung from him the order to copy and rehearse Wolfgang's opera, so often was it secretly recalled. The Emperor's interest in the work remained unabated, and he frequently inquired after its progress from Wolfgang; but even his influence could not prevail against Affligio, who held his position quite independent of the court. He had the theatre on a lease, and bore all the expenses, the imperial family having the privilege of free ingress.

Affligio had promised the nobles, and especially Prince Kaunitz, to revive the French drama, discarded in 1766. He accomplished this in 1768, but, according to L. Mozart, at a cost of 70,000 gulden and a great loss to himself; Prince Kaunitz strove to make the loss good by an appeal to the Emperor to share in the expenses; but this attempt failed signally. Under these circumstances, no influence from this quarter could be brought to bear on Affligio, and nothing remained for L. Mozart but to overcome his evasions step by step. When at last Affligio was driven to bay he declared TREACHERY OF AFFLIGIO—FAILURE. [73] that he would give the opera if L. Mozart insisted on it, but that it should not benefit him much, for he would take care that it was hissed off the stage. After this threat, which would certainly have been fulfilled, nothing remained but to give up the production of the opera. On September 21, L. Mozart justified himself to the Emperor by a formal complaint against Affligio, which was intrusted for delivery to the Court Director of Music (Hof und Kammer-Musik-director), Count Joh. Wenzel Spork, a zealous musical friend; but, as might have been foreseen, it was without result.

For nine months the affair had thus dragged on, during which time L. Mozart had been living with his family at Vienna almost entirely on the proceeds of their previous tour. His receipts at Vienna could not but be insignificant, and the salary which he drew at Salzburg as professor of the violin in the Royal Chapel, and leader of the orchestra, was withdrawn in March of this year with the observation that he might remain away as long as he chose, but that he would not be paid during his absence.

He was too proud to use the influence of his patron, Count Schrattenbach, brother to the Archbishop, in soliciting the continuance of a salary which, "in the firm opinion of most of the court officials," he did not deserve.

But he could no longer count with certainty on the future security of his position at Salzburg, and a rumour even reached him that this was imperilled by the gossip which represented his gains in Vienna as enormous, and fixed on 2,000 gulden as the sum which had been paid for Wolfgang's opera.

L. Mozart sought to justify himself with the Archbishop by a reference to Affligio's want of faith, which it had been impossible to foresee; and by declaring that had the work been an opera seria instead of an opera buffa, requiring all the strength of the Viennese company, he would not have hesitated to shake the dust of Vienna from his feet, and lay his son's first important composition at the feet of his rightful and gracious lord. The honour of the Archbishop himself Mozart considered to be concerned, that artists employed THE FIRST OPERA IN VIENNA. [74] and recommended by him should not be treated as "charlatans, liars, and impostors, who go abroad with his permission to throw dust in people's eyes like common conjurors"; and the Archbishop was implored to undertake Wolfgang's cause as identical with his own against people, who "because they sniff the air of the town where the Emperor happens to reside, look with disdain on those who serve foreign princes, and speak disrespectfully of the foreign princes themselves."

Nay, he calls upon him as a Christian to convince the unbelievers that the Almighty has worked a miracle in the birth of this prodigy at Salzburg:—

If ever I considered it my duty to convince the world of this miracle I do so now, at a time when every effort is made to bring miracles into disrepute and ridicule. What greater joy and triumph could I enjoy than to hear the astonished exclamation of a follower of Voltaire (Grimm): Now for once in my life I have seen a miracle; it is the first. But because this marvel is too patent and too open to be denied, every effort is made to suppress it, and to deprive the Lord of the glory due to Him. There is an idea that in a few years the wonder will cease and will fall back into the natural. So it is to be hidden away from the eyes of the world; for what could manifest it more openly than a public performance in a large and populous city?

This tone was undoubtedly adopted as an appeal to the Archbishop's bigoted piety.

In spite of all discouragements, L. Mozart never swerved from his main object. He had an immovable faith in the Providence which had "so often and so evidently urged him on or held him back, and always led him in the right way." Just as firm was his confidence in the artistic gifts of his son, for whose glorious future he considered it his mission to prepare the way. His conviction that the opera in Vienna would be the pioneer on the road to Italy made him ready to sacrifice to it even his official position in Salzburg:—

I reckon upon this as a means of extorting permission for the journey to Italy, a journey which, all things considered, cannot be long delayed, and for which the Emperor himself has given me every possible assistance in the imperial towns, and in Florence and Naples. Failing FORTITUDE OF L. MOZART. [75] this, we must pine at Salzburg in the vain hope of better fortune, until I shall have grown too old to make the journey at all, and until Wolfgang has grown up, and his performances are deprived of everything marvellous. Can it be that the first step of this opera in Vienna shall have been made in vain, and that my son is not to advance with rapid strides along the path so plainly marked out for him?

However bitterly he felt that ill-will and disappointment pursued him in Vienna as they had never done abroad, and that his opponents were Germans seeking to oppress a German, whom foreigners had treated with justice and liberality, yet intrigues and slanders never deprived him of patience and self-command:—

It is just the way of the world; if a man has no talent he is unhappy enough, but if he has talent, then envy follows him in proportion to his ability. All we can do is by patience and perseverance to convince the world that our adversaries are malicious liars, slanderers, and covetous wretches, who would laugh in their sleeve if we allowed them to frighten or weary us.

It is impossible to withhold our sympathy from L. Mozart's shrewd and patient endeavours to bring to light his son's work, in the full belief of its worth; but we must ascertain also how far this belief is justified by the work itself. The opera is preserved in Mozart's handwriting, and a detailed examination of it serves to confirm the judgment of contemporary critics, that it is not only on a level with the numerous comic operas of the time, but far superior to the majority of them.19

The text goes far to justify Coltellini's want of success as a librettist. The poverty of the plot, the unreality of the characters, and the stupidity of the jokes, all prove the truth of Nicolai's severe criticism of the "outlandish musical zany in Vienna, whose pieces are as poor as those of any mountebank."20

The plot is somewhat as follows:— THE FIRST OPERA IN VIENNA. [76] Fracasso, a Hungarian officer, is quartered with his servant Simone in the house of two rich bachelors, Cassandro and Polidoro, who have a beautiful sister Giacinta. Fracasso and Simone are of course carrying on a love intrigue with Giacinta and her maid, Ninetta, of which the brothers know nothing. The latter are broad caricatures. Polidoro, the younger of the two, is simple and timid, but amorous by nature, which he does not dare to betray to Cassandro, who, by virtue of his wealth, talent, and good looks, of which he is inordinately vain, tyrannises over his household, and though not less amorous than his brother, feigns a contempt for women. In order to outwit the brothers and force them into a consent to their union, the two pair of lovers plot that Rosine, Fracasso's sister, who is expected on a visit, shall, under Ninetta's instruction, make both brothers in love with her. Rosine enters with 'feigned simplicity,' and with a marvellous show of naïveté throws herself at the head of the two brothers. Each of them, delighted at her demonstration of love, wishes to marry her at once. The tricks which she plays on them, the Complications which ensue when each brother in turn surprises her with the other, their attempts to ingratiate themselves with her, and their awkward manners form the main subject of the opera, which is devoid of dramatic action, and consists of detached burlesque scenes. We will note a few characteristic traits. At their first meeting, after a very few words, Polidoro proposes marriage on the spot to Rosine. She shows herself not averse but "domanda un matrimonio i passi suoi, s' am a da prima, e poiche qualche visita almeno, qualche gentil biglietto, qualche bel regalo." He is nothing daunted; as for love he declares, it exists already; for the visits, he has just paid one. Ninetta shall write a love-letter for him, and, by way of present, he thrusts a purse of gold into her hand. In a subsequent scene he is formally instructed in the duties of a husband.

Cassandro fares no better. At their first interview, Rosine begs for a ring which he wears, and, on his refusal, she teases him into lending it, whereupon he plainly expresses his doubt of ever receiving it back again. In the following act he comes in intoxicated and is consequently forced by Rosine to converse with her from the opposite corner of the stage; she expresses herself in pantomine, which he misunderstands, and at last goes to sleep. Then she puts the ring on his finger again and leaves him.

Fracasso enters, and Cassandro complains that his sister has kept the ring; but as it is shown to be on his finger, a duel is the consequence, in which Cassandro makes full display of his cowardice. To bring matters to a point the brothers are informed that Giacinta and Ninetta have decamped with gold and jewels, and are induced to promise the hands of these young ladies to whomsoever shall bring them back. Fracasso and Simone are happy enough to accomplish this; Rosine having given her hand to Cassandro, clears up all misunderstandings, and the piece ends amid general rejoicings.

LA FINTA SEMPLICE. [77]

The noble and refined genius of young Mozart now, as ever, raising to a higher sphere all with which it came in contact, was able to transform and quicken even such miserable trash as this. The jesting is confined to the dialogue; the songs have a higher tone, and in the finales, which are unquestionably burlesque in their situations, the poor fun of the text is made subordinate to the strongly marked individuality of the composer. A talent for musical delineation of character is clearly visible in this work, and must be entirely ascribed to the genius of the youthful composer, who had no help from the poet. The part of Polidoro is the most favourable instance of dramatic power. It was written for Caribaldi, whose beautiful voice was very telling in slow movements, but who had a poor execution, and strove unsuccessfully to imitate Caratoli in his acting.21 Mozart has contrived to give a simple, noble expression to the genuine feeling of love which invests even the poor simple dupe with a certain dignity; and yet the comic element is never lost sight of. His first air (7), in which he describes the impression made on him by Rosine, is the crown of the whole opera. The naïve emotion of a youth, who is as yet unconscious of the strength of his own passions, is so naturally and heartily expressed, that we may well ask how the boy had acquired such a degree of psychological insight. We are reminded of Cherubino in "Figaro," but Polidoro is not to be compared to the Page in fire and spirit. All Mozart's later characteristics, the quiet beauty and easy flow of the melodies and harmonies, the symmetrical blending of the details into a whole, and the intrinsic unity of style, are already to be traced, and we may fairly rank this song with those of his maturer works.

The instrumentation is carefully and effectively worked out. The first violins and the voice go together, the second violins have a simple accompaniment, the basses THE FIRST OPERA IN VIENNA. [78] play pizzicato. Two tenors and bassoons, generally in unison, supply the shadows to this outline (as it may fairly be termed), and two oboes let in the appropriate lights; the horns, made use of only in long-drawn notes, keep the whole together. The skilful employment of these simple means produces an effect of light and shade which is at once striking and beautiful.

As we have already observed, this air was taken, with slight modifications, and with the omission of the middle movement in G minor, and of the Da capo, from Mozart's earlier oratorio (p. 55). This species of borrowing was common enough at the time, but Mozart never made use of it except in this instance; his having done so here proves how strongly the young composer himself felt the beauty of his music.

Polidoro's air in the second act (17) has far more of dramatic energy. Rosine, insulted by Cassandro, bursts into tears; Polidoro, indignant with his brother, but more than half-frightened at his own temerity, seeks to console her. The contrast between his strong feeling of attraction to Rosine and the effort which he makes to overcome his fear of his brother is well marked by modulations of time and measure, and by the instrumentation; the accelerated part has much of the ordinary buffo character.

Next to Polidoro we may rank Rosine. The part was publicly announced for Clementine Baglioni, whose voice "had a silvery tone, was as easy and fluent as could be desired, and carried admirably"; she sang "without audacity and correctly; her gestures were easy and becoming."22 "The same simplicity and truthfulness of expression is observable here as in the part of Polidoro. The first song (6) in which she undertakes to show—

Gradir tutti ed un solo amar, is fresh and lively, and the passages are so natural and graceful, that even in the present day it does not sound ROSINE, CASSANDRO. [79] antiquated. The first part of the second song (9) is especially beautiful, and the principal melody reminds us, in dignity and expression, of the Countess in "Figaro." The words—

give opportunity for descriptive music, the susurrar being expressed by a phrase for the violins, while a solo oboe enacts the part of Echo, repeating the end of each phrase.

But this trifling is kept in the background, and does not in the least interfere with the tender character of the air. The second part (Allegro grazioso, 3-4), although light and cheerful, does not approach the first in originality and depth. The cavatina in the second act (15) expresses a simple, fervent emotion in a beautiful melody; the whole piece, both in design and execution, shows Mozart's manner most unmistakably; and is marked by a certain individuality of conception which transcends all technical readiness and skill. On the other hand, the song (17) which Rosine sings in her rôle of affected simplicity, is cheerful and fresh, but not particularly striking.

The part of Cassandro is not on a par with the two we have been considering. Caratoli, for whom it was written was past his best days as a singer, but he was an excellent actor, and "knew how to dispense in some measure with singing"; he generally played old men, and his desire to please the multitude led him into occasional extravagances.23 His part is specially adapted to the peculiarities of the Italian buffo; it contains rapid declamation, well-applied pauses, strong contrasts, and other similar conventional effects; but not much original conception of THE FIRST OPERA IN VIENNA. [80] comic character. In one song, indeed, we have a clever expression given to the not over-refined words:—

CASSANDRO. [81]

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We must not indeed compare such jesting as this, however it may have been applauded at the time, with the delicate humour of Figaro. The composer is not at his best; but much of the blame lies at the door of the poet who wrote such trash, and of the performer who would accept only slight indications of the music to be sung, that he might win applause by his own elaboration of it. But youthful inexperience and ignorance of the minds of men must also naturally have narrowed the boy's ideas. It is a sufficient proof of his thoroughly artistic nature that his fun was exempt from childish extravagance.

The two pairs of lovers are not of equal prominence. The somewhat timid and indolent Giacinta is a difficult subject for musical representation. In her first song she declares(3)—

THE FIRST OPERA IN VIENNA. [82]

the husband is to be—

This is not exactly the state of mind for a prima donna. The music that she sings is harmonious and pleasing, but, with the exception of a happy turn here and there, not above the average. Only the song in the third act (24) expresses dismay at the pretended flight with a tragic pathos, which, though of course exaggerated, is well sustained, both by the voice and the accompaniment. The conception of this part was doubtless influenced by the individuality of the singer for whom it was written. According to Sonnenfels this was Signora Eberhardi.

"She has an agreeable contralto voice, and a style which pleases universally. Her shakes certainly degenerate sometimes into a quake, and if the tempo is taken very fast she fails to keep pace with it. In her acting she suffers the natural to pass into the artificial, and her conventional gestures are often constrained."24

Fracasso is a lover of the usual type, rough and impetuous as becomes a Hungarian officer, quarrelsome with the two brothers, but without marked individuality. This it was impossible for so young a composer as Mozart to evolve out of such commonplace and insignificant materials. The part was cast for Laschi, whom Sonnenfels25 praises as a cultivated artist, and a buffo actor of the most refined and intelligent type. He still played first lover's parts, but was much commiserated on account of the loss of certain notes of his voice, a defect which he sought to hide by transposing airs and passages.

Simone is an ordinary valet, blunt rather than rude, and merry, all which is well represented by the music, the part seldom rising, however, above the ordinary buffo level. Most genial and telling is the song(13)—

NINETTA—SOLO SONGS. [83]

and the concluding refrain "Madama, bastone!" is pretty and comical. Poggi, who took the servants' and peasants' parts, possessed a fine bass voice and correct execution, together with a charming style of acting, and was the favourite of connoisseurs.26

The character most devoid of colour is that of Ninetta, and we find in it no foretaste of a Susannah or a Despina. It can only have been intended for Bemasconi, who had made a great sensation as Sandrina in Piccini's "Buona Figliola," and in Sacchini's "Contadina in Corte."27 It is indicative of the healthiness of Mozart's genius that some of the songs for these less important personages were rewritten several times, no doubt at the request of the performers.28 Where any natural emotion or characteristic situation is to be represented, his judgment is at once correct and decided; but in unimportant matters he is ready to yield to the wishes of the singers and the public, and to attempt various modes of expression in search of what is pleasing and harmonious.

In accordance with the prevailing fashion, solo songs abound in this opera; each character has two or three, Rosine has four, and the total number amounts to twenty. The majority are formed on the same model, the usual one of the day.

They have a long ritomello, and consist of two movements, differing in time, measure, and key, which are generally both repeated; each movement is woven into one long thread, the motifs being sometimes repeated, but never really worked out. This clumsy form gives few opportunities for dramatic effect, and is especially adapted for the singer who is desirous of displaying his own,

As a matter of course, those songs which have most originality disregard such rules, and their form is rounder, THE FIRST OPERA IN VIENNA. [84] more self-contained and complete. In these, little opportunity is given for a display of execution; the melodies are simple, ornamental passages and runs few in number,29 and little beyond the cadenzas is left to the singers' discretion. The natural expression of feeling in the songs is never inconsistent with the style of an opera buffa; all is cheerful, light, and easy of apprehension.

By the side of these numerous airs, there is only one duet between Fracasso and Cassandro (19), of a purely comic character; Cassandro assumes an air of arrogant importance, but, terrified in reality, seeks by any means to escape from the proposed duel. This is animated, and must have been very effective at the time; but it is in reality a solo for the bass buffo, for Fracasso has only detached ejaculations, and the two voices never go together.

Each act of the opera ends with a finale, in which the action, increasing in intensity through the several scenes, is wound up and represented to the audience in a connected and coherent form. Clearly defined rules left little scope for originality in the arrangement and composition of these finales. Changes of time, measure, and key took place according to rule with every change of situation; and each movement formed a complete and detached whole. When the action becomes animated, or the dialogue rapid, the orchestra, by means of retaining and developing a characteristic motif, supplies a framework from which individual dramatic features can be detached without risk of the whole falling asunder.

The skilful modelling of a composition from its purely musical aspect, is as important to true artistic workmanship as is the vivid delineation of individual character; only a consummate master of his art can be expected to bring both these elements to perfection. The first predominates in these finales.

The design and modelling of each subject is firm and FINALES—OVERTURE. [85] flowing. The voices are not artificially involved, but free and independent throughout; the orchestra is cleverly handled and treated with due consideration, whether it comes to the front, or remains as an accompaniment in the background.

The instrumentation is rich, and even where the rapid progress of the action causes difficulties, it is full of effects of light and shade.

The wind instruments are frequently employed independently; and there is already visible the germ of Mozart's inimitable art of combining orchestra and voices with mutual independence into perfect unity. The situations and characters are fitly and dramatically expressed by the orchestra, though not in so striking a degree as in the airs. Creative power is not so prominent here as the dexterity with which the various parts are moulded together. Even with his extraordinary gifts, such a mere boy could not satisfy in an equal degree the very great and varied demands made upon him face to face with such a task as this; the only wonder is that Mozart did not yield to the temptation of producing brilliant effects at the cost of artistic unity.

These finales make a perfectly harmonious effect, and wanting as they are in depth and vigour, preserve throughout the genuine character of an opera buffa. The last movement of each finale is for four voices, and is sung by all the personages present; a similar movement opens the opera. They are very simple, the voices in harmony, to a varied figure on the violins, generally only a sort of paraphrase of the principal subject; the other instruments fill in the harmonies, so that the whole has a rapid, busy effect.

The overture (Sinfonia) is, according to established custom, in three movements, the two first being in two divisions. It is a symphony, composed previously on January 16 (45 K.), and prefixed to the opera with the omission of the minuet. There are a few minor alterations, chiefly in the instrumentation. The symphony had originally trumpets and drums, which were omitted in the overture, while flutes and bassoons were added. This is unquestionably the weakest part of the opera, and the middle movement is THE FIRST OPERA IN VIENNA. [86] especially poor; but little importance was then attached to the overture, and it is not worse than others of its day.

To sum up our criticism, the opera was a worthy rival to those already in possession of the stage, and portions of it may fairly be said to surpass them in nobility and originality both of invention and execution, while it points unmistakably to a glorious future for its composer. Surely this is extraordinary praise for the work of a boy!

The manuscript score is clearly a fair copy, but not without corrections. Some of these are of mistakes in the copying; others, although seldom, are alterations probably demanded by the performers, either curtailments or additions. The additions are for the most part to the closing phrases, which Mozart, as a rule, cut very short; the singers, mindful of a good exit, demanded their prolongation. The hand of L. Mozart is discernible throughout; the indications of the tempo, of the persons, instruments, &c., the minute directions as to execution, are almost all in his handwriting.

There are also some indications of his having revised the composition in unimportant trifles. But this score, being a copy, can offer no evidence as to the influence of L. Mozart's advice and corrections on the compositions of his son; we can well understand that at the time this influence was thought to be overpowering; now that Wolfgang's career and development lie open before us, we rate it at next to nothing.

Although L. Mozart was denied the satisfaction of witnessing the public recognition of his son's genius by the performance of this opera, yet a good opportunity was afforded him of asserting his dramatic talent before a small circle of connoisseurs. The Mozarts became acquainted with a Dr. Messmer,30 who had married a rich wife, and who kept ROUSSEAU'S "DEVIN DU VILLAGE." [87] open house for a select and cultivated circle. Heufeld was among the number of his friends. Dr. Messmer was musical, and had built an amateur theatre; here was performed, a little German opera composed by Wolfgang, with the title "Bastien und Bastienne" (50 K.).

We must here revert to J. J. Rousseau's intermezzo, "Le Devin du Village," the origin of which he describes in the eighth book of his "Confessions."31 The pleasure which he had derived during his stay in Italy from the performances of the opera buffa was revived in 1752 at Passy, where he encountered a zealous musical friend, Musard, who shared the same tastes. This suggested to Rousseau the idea of placing something of the same kind on the French stage; in a few days the plan of the piece, the text, and some of the music were sketched out, and within six weeks, the poem and composition were complete. At a private rehearsal, which Duclos arranged, the operetta made a great sensation, and attracted the attention of the manager des menus plaisirs, De Cury, who ordered and directed a performance of it at court.

It was twice (on October 18 and 24,1752) performed before the King at Fontainebleau, Mdlles. Fel and Jeliotte singing Colette and Colin, with great applause. Then it was given publicly in Paris before the Académie Royale de Musique on March 1, 1753, and met with great and universal approbation.32 From the King, who, "with the worst voice in his whole kingdom," sang "J'ai perdu mon serviteur," downwards, the couplets of the operetta were in every one's mouth, and it became popular to a remarkable degree. In 1774 it received almost as much applause as Gluck's "Orpheus,"33 THE FIRST OPERA IN VIENNA. [88] and even in 1819 and 1821 German musicians were astonished at its popularity. It did not finally disappear from the stage until 1828.34 The plot could not be simpler:—

Colette, a village maiden, is inconsolable for her faithless swain, Colin, and goes to a soothsayer for advice and assistance. He informs her that the lady of the manor has entangled Colin in her toils, but that he is still faithful at heart, and will return to his first love; she must punish him by pretended indifference, so as to inflame his desires afresh; this she promises. Colin then enters; he is healed of his madness, and returns to his Colette. On being informed by the soothsayer that she loves another, he, too, begs for help; the soothsayer undertakes to summon Colette by magic, but Colin must himself do the rest. Colette appears, and somewhat unsuccessfully plays the prude; her lover thereupon rushes off in despair, she calls him back, and then follow reconciliation and renewed assurance of love and constancy. The soothsayer receives thanks and reward, and the assembled villagers take part in the joy of the lovers.

The simplicity and naïve sentiments, which atone for the poverty of the plot, are also characteristic of the music. A certain inequality in technical details, and here and there gross errors, betray the amateur;35 but there is a natural feeling in the melodies, and a playful tenderness in the whole composition, which must have had an extraordinary effect at the time of its production. Rousseau, who aimed at unity of tone before all things in this little sketch, was not satisfied with furnishing the couplets with easy flowing melodies, but bestowed great care on the recitatives, which, in imitation of the Italian, were intended to be pieces of artistic and studied declamation.36 The minute care with which he indicated the smallest detail in the delivery of his recitatives is almost incredible; it is plain that he gave credit to the performers for no musical feeling or power of expression whatever.

Rousseau's opera coincided in point of time with the first THE PARODY, "BASTIEN ET BASTIBNNE." [89] appearance of Italian opera buffa in Paris; and though he had avowedly taken, this as his model, comparison serves only to prove the complete originality of his work. It bore unmistakable traces of its nationality, and was French in feeling and tone.37 The abiding impression created by it is best shown by the innumerable operas of the same kind, which followed closely in its rear,38 such as "Rose et Colas," "Annette et Lubin," "La Clochette." The Comédie-Italienne ratified the success of the "Devin du Village" in yet another way. According to the custom, by which every piece of any importance was parodied as soon as it appeared on the stage, a parody of Rousseau's intermezzo appeared at the Italiens, September 26, 1753, with the title: "Les Amours de Bastienet Bastienne."39

It was composed by the witty and agreeable Madame Favart and Hamy,40 and, without attempting to disparage the original, it transforms the Arcadian idealism of Rousseau's shepherds into the unromantic realism of country life. Genuine French peasants express appropriate sentiments in their patois, and the whole piece is rustic and natural.

The dialogue is strung together by well-known melodies, as was always the case in vaudeville. The piece was highly applauded, owing its success in great measure to the lively and natural acting of Madame Favart. She was the first actress who ventured to appear in the genuine simple costume of a peasant woman, and her appearance in sabots created a great sensation. Her portrait was painted in this THE FIRST OPERA IN VIENNA. [90] character, and it had much to do in laying the foundation of her fame.41

The parody was elaborated into a German operetta. In Vienna, low comedy had never entirely renounced the aid of music; Haydn composed his operetta "Der neue Krumme Teufel" for Kurz-Bemardon. When the more refined comic opera was introduced by Hiller, it was accepted and imitated in Vienna. In 1764 Weiskem translated Madame Favart's parody with some slight alterations,42 and to this text Mozart composed the music.43 The piece is a continuous dialogue, interrupted by isolated songs and duets at appointed places. These, consisting of eleven solo songs, three duets, and one terzet do not always correspond to those of Rousseau's opera, which was unknown to the adapter; many songs have several verses, of which Mozart has only transcribed the first.

The French parody has been most unskilfully travestied, as will be seen by a comparison of the first song in its various forms.

ROUSSEAU.

MADAME FAVART.

MOZART'S "BASTIEN ET BASTIENNE." [91]

WEISKERN.

The verses are equally tame and clumsy all the way through; and even taking into account the prevailing low standard of cultivation and taste, it is difficult to believe that this operetta could have been produced at a private house of any importance.44

Mozart has given his music a strictly pastoral character, indicated, wherever possible, by its outward form. The orchestral introduction (Intrada) an Allegro (3-4) of about seventy bars, begins with a pastoral theme—

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interrupted by quick passages for oboes and horns, plainly intended to express a disturbance of the peaceful shepherd's life; this passes into a tender pianissimo, prefiguring Bastienne's song. Holmes remarks that the subject reminds one of Beethoven's Sinfonia Eroica, and still more so as the overture proceeds; but no one, it is to THE FIRST OPERA IN VIENNA. [92] be hoped, would think of an actual reminiscence. Both the melody and its accompaniment, particularly the holding down of the bass note or the fifth, often of both, are meant to suggest bagpipes.

Only the stringed instruments are employed; and a curious effect is produced by the first violins giving the fundamental note to the melody on the open string of G or D. The bagpipes are imitated again in a little passage, with which Colas enters, playing the bagpipes:—

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In this passage Mozart has jokingly introduced a G sharp to imitate the sound between G and G sharp, which wind instruments sometimes emit, when unskilfully handled.45 All these little tricks had already been brought in to his "Galimathias" (p. 45).

Comparing this operetta with the "Finta Semplice," we find that the former is as distinctively German in execution and colouring as the latter is Italian. What amount of direct influence Hiller's operas had upon "Bastien and Bastienne"

(Op. 30, 5), and others in Mendelssohn's "Midsummer Night's Dream." MOZART'S "BASTIEN ET BASTIENNE." [93] it is difficult to say, but there can be no doubt that the intention of both composers was the same.

Simplicity and directness of expression being essential, the songs are destitute both of runs and florid passages, and the fashioning of the melodies is decidedly German, generally taking the ballad form; where a more elaborate working is attempted, we may indeed trace Italian influence, but the style is invariably simplified.

The conventional form of the aria in two parts, with the repetition of the first or both, and the usual variations, is not adhered to: and when an aria consists of two parts, it has no Da capo.46 So, too, the cadence, which had become almost a rule in Italian songs—is employed only once or twice.

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The whole composition displays little inventive faculty,. and there are no pieces of the same significance as some of those in the Italian opera; here and there is a slight uncertainty of rhythm or harmony, and occasionally also obsolete turns of expression.

On the other hand', there are not wanting passages full of grace and tenderness, the harmony is often well chosen and even bold, and the operetta is so far Mozart's best expression of simple sentiment coming direct from the heart.

His dramatic talent again asserts itself unmistakably; the three characters are boldly sketched, and many little comic touches are thrown into relief, as, for instance, the song in which Colas practises hocus-pocus, the duet in which Bastienne to all Bastien's despairing resolutions answers only: "Viel Glück!" and others. The technical working-out is very simple. Neither in the duets nor in the closing terzet are the voices interwoven; but they THE FIRST OPERA IN VIENNA. [94] alternate with each other, or proceed together in simple harmony; only in one instance does there occur a short imitative passage. The orchestra usually goes with the voice, to which a simple, well-arranged bass is provided, the other parts filling in the harmonies. An accompaniment with any independent phrasing is rarely met with. The accompaniment is mainly intrusted to the stringed instruments, strengthened by oboes (on one occasion by two flutes) and horns, but only to fill in the harmonies. Horns are also employed obbligato, and with charming effect, in Bastienne's second song, "Ich geh jetzt auf die Weide."

It says much for the artistic feeling and true discrimination of a boy of twelve years old, that he not only displays a mastery of operatic form, and a rare dramatic and inventive genius, but that he is able to grasp and appreciate the essential differences, both artistic and national, between German and Italian opera.

It is noteworthy that his first dramatic attempts should, so to speak, touch the two extremes, which it was to be his mission to bring together. One song of Bastien's (10), with slightly altered words and clavier accompaniment, "Daphne, deine Rosenwangen," and another, "Freude, Königin der Weisen" (52, 53, K.), were printed in a musical serial,47 the editor, no doubt, thinking to make his profit with the name of the youthful prodigy.

Among the occasional compositions, which were numerous during Mozart's stay in Vienna, two symphonies must be mentioned. The first, in F major (43 K.), falling within the year 1767, is only noticeable for its middle movement, which is an elaboration of the duet in "Hyacinthus," already mentioned (p. 62 ). The second, in D major, dated December 13,1768 (48 K.), is very animated, and has some striking features.

Considerable doubt still exists on the subject of a quintet, in B flat major (46 K.), which, according to Kochel's unimpeachable authority is preserved in Mozart's boyish QUINTET IN B FLAT MAJOR, AND SERENADE. [95] hand-writing in the archives of the Austrian Musikverein; it has many corrections, and the date appended, in a strange hand certainly, but coinciding with the composition, is "d. 25 Januar (Mozart writes Janner), 1768." This quintet, for two violins, two tenors, and violoncello, contains the four principal movements (omitting the second minuet, the romance, and the variations) of the great serenade for wind instruments belonging to the year 1780 (361 K); the substance is here in its integrity, with only the necessary alterations to adapt it for strings.

Close examination leaves hardly any doubt that the composition was originally intended for wind instruments; finer effects are produced in the serenade, and are obviously not interpolated; the quintet betrays itself as an arrangement by evident efforts to bring out given effects.

Accordingly the serenade must be considered also as a very early work, and the omission of the three movements in the quintet affords no reason for ascribing them to a different period. Nevertheless, the conception and workmanship of these movements, and the scientific mastery of the art therein displayed, belong to the maturity of manhood, and make it difficult to give credence to the handwriting of the manuscript rather than to this internal evidence.

L. Mozart's hope of seeing an opera by Wolfgang on the Vienna stage was, as we have seen, destroyed; but he was not altogether deprived of the satisfaction to be afforded him by a public display of his son's genius. They had become acquainted with the celebrated Father Ign. Parhammer, a Jesuit, who had been especially zealous in purifying the land since the emigration of the Protestants from Salzburg in 1733; 48 he took a prominent position in Vienna, and became father confessor to the Emperor Francis I. in 1758. In the following year he was made director of the Orphan Asylum, which he extended and reorganised with remarkable activity, making it at length one of the most noted of such institutions.49 In all similar institutions conducted by the Jesuits in Germany, the musical education of the orphans was THE FIRST OPERA IN VIENNA. [96] considered next in importance to their religious duties,50 and in this case the result was so striking that the Emperor intended employing them in his operatic company.51 Parhammer sometimes invited the Mozarts; and when the foundation stone of a new chapel was laid in the summer they were present and met the Emperor, who conversed with Wolfgang about his opera. Soon after he was commissioned to prepare the music for the mass to celebrate the dedication of the chapel, with the addition of an offertory and a trumpet concerto, to be performed by one of the boys. The latter is not preserved; the Mass in G major (49 K.), the first which Mozart had written, betrays, as might be expected, the uncertainty of boyish workmanship more than any previous work. It is written for chorus and solos which do not merely alternate with the chorus in short phrases; "Et in Spiritum Sanctum" is an independent solo for the bass; Benedictus, a solo quartet. The plan, modelling, and execution of the music are quite of the conventional type of a Missa brevis; it is almost devoid of original invention, and bears no signs of those stirrings of genius which we have remarked in previous works. This want has not been without influence on the working-out of the music. The imitative phrasing is stiffer and less free than elsewhere; only the little regulation fugue "Et vitam" shows the result of study; and the impetuous Osanna— FIRST MASS IN G MAJOR. [97] [See Page Image] is vigorous and well finished. The Offertory, "Veni, Sancte Spiritus" (47 K.), in C major is lively and brilliant, with trumpets and drums. The closing "Alleluia" is almost too gay, but it is pretty and fresh, reminding one of Caldara's easier pieces.

The performance, which Wolfgang conducted, took place on December 7, 1768, in the presence of the imperial court, and confirmed, as the father writes home, that which their enemies by opposition to the opera had sought to disprove; convincing the court and the numerous audience assembled, of Wolfgang's right to a place of honour among composers.

The following is the testimony of a contemporary journal:52

On Wednesday, the 7th, his Imperial Majesty, with the Archdukes Ferdinand and Maximilian, and the Archduchesses Maria Elizabeth and Maria Amelia were pleased to repair to the Orphan Asylum on the Rennweg, in order to be present at the first festival service and dedication of the newly erected chapel.

On either side of the entrance to the chapel were stationed the companies of body guards with their bands. The royal party were received by his Eminence the Cardinal Archbishop of this place with his attendant clergy, amid the flourish of trumpets and drums, and the discharge of guns and cannons. The service of the dedication was conducted by his Eminence, and the mass by the suffragan Bishop Marxer, with repeated discharge of fire-arms.

The entire music, sung by the choir of orphans, was composed for the occasion by Wolfgang Mozart, son of Dr. L. Mozart, Kapellmeister at Salzburg, a boy twelve years of age, well known for his extraordinary talent; it was conducted by the composer with the utmost precision and accuracy, and was received with universal applause and admiration.

THE Archbishop could not but feel flattered at the accomplishments of the young Salzburger, and he endeavoured, as far as lay in his power, to complete the partial success of the visit to Vienna by ordering a performance of Wolfgang's opera in Salzburg, notwithstanding that it was "an opera buffa, THE ITALIAN TOUR. [98] requiring performers of a buffo character." The programme, recovered by Köchel 1 gives the following [See Page Image] 2cast:—

The performance must have taken place on the fête-day of the Archbishop or some similar festive occasion, and upon a stage specially erected in the archiepiscopal palace.

SALZBURG—MASS IN D MINOR. [99]

1748, "La Clemenza di Tito" was given by the Signori Paggi di Corte, who played even the female parts, or of the chapel.

It was the custom on such occasions at the close of the performance to address the person in whose honour it was given, generally in the form of an air with recitative, concluding with a chorus; this peroration, which had no connection with the body of the opera, was called licenza) Two such, composed by Wolfgang for Archbishop Sigismund, are still preserved; a tenor air (36 K.) and a soprano air (70 K.), both with long recitatives, giving testimony to increasing dexterity in the treatment of form.

The performance of the opera was followed on the side of the Archbishop by the announcement of Wolfgang's appointment as Concertmeister, and he was accordingly so entered in the Court Calendar of 1770.

The greater part of the year 1769 was spent quietly at Salzburg in studies of which we know but little. The only compositions which can certainly be ascribed to this year are seven minuets for two violins and bass, composed January 26, 1769,3 and two masses; they are all of the nature of studies. The first of the masses, in D minor, dated January 14, 1769 (65 K.), noteworthy on account of the minor key, is a missa brevis, and keeps strictly to that form, both in choruses and solos; in the Credo the words "Genitum, non factum—consubstantialem Patri—per quem omnia facta sunt," are distributed to three voices, and sung together. The different phrases, though well formed, have a certain abruptness, showing that the skill to continue and develop the suggestions of the mind was still wanting. But the ordering of the details and the counterpoint are both excellent, and bear many marks of originality.

As an example the fugue— THE ITALIAN TOUR. [100] is unusual, but has a striking effect in this place. Mozart evidently enters more into the spirit of his work as the mass proceeds, and gives his impulses freer play. The Benedic-tus apparently gave him some trouble. First, it was written for all four voices, then for soprano solo, and lastly as a duet for soprano and alto, this last arrangement being twice elaborated. The alterations in the details show how precise he was in this work. [See Page Image]

The beginning of the Dona—

Do - na, do - na no - bis PATER DOMINICUS MASS. [101] promises well, but fails to maintain the same level to the end. [See Page Image]

The second mass, in C major (66 K.), the "Pater Domini-cus Mass," was composed in October, 1769, on the occasion of the first celebration of mass by Hagenauer's son, whose entrance into a monastery had formerly caused Wolfgang to shed tears (p. 50).4 The young composer put forth all his powers to produce a truly grand and brilliant festival mass.

Every part is well conceived and worked out, and considerable progress is observable in the mechanical details of the whole. The subjects are more important, and the passages for the violins, which are very prominent, have more distinct character; the different parts, too, have freer play. But it is at the same time to be noted that the substance of the work is not yet on a level with its broader scheme. A succession of independent solos, which evidently served as the special embellishment of the mass, show a considerable effort to avoid a light operatic tone, and to combine dignity with easy and attractive grace.

Mozart's unequalled talent for pure and noble melody is as discernible here as elsewhere, though it is crippled by a certain amount of confusion of ideas. Curiously enough the Benedictus, a solo quartet, is accompanied only by the first violin, which plays round the voices with a continuous running passage. There is a good effect in the Dona nobis, where the chorus answers the short solo phrases— THE ITALIAN TOUR. [102] with changes of lead and harmony. [See Page Image]

This mass serves as a proof that L. Mozart did not confine himself to educating his son as an operatic composer, but that he made him pass through a course of severe study in every branch of his art, with the just conviction that his genius, when fully trained and developed, would mark out a line for itself.

L. Mozart's intention of taking Wolfgang to Italy remained firm as ever, and he considered their stay in Vienna as the first step towards its accomplishment. At that time, Italy was to musicians what she now is to painters and sculptors; a residence there was necessary to give the finishing touches to their education, and éclat to their reputation.

Music in Italy was not only an art universally diffused and esteemed, it was the Art par excellence. All classes shared the insatiable desire for music everywhere—in the churches, the theatres, the streets, and their own homes; and the delicate appreciation and enthusiasm for what was excellent were increased by practice and education. So in Italy a national tradition for production as well as for taste had been gradually formed, a sort of musical climate, in which artists found it easy to breathe. They knew that they might rely confidently on the appreciation of the public, whose attention and intelligence urged them to fresh efforts, while rewarding each success with sympathetic applause.

Opera and church music were almost in equal favour, and afforded mutual support to each other. It was accordant with the brilliancy of royal courts and rich cities to give operatic performances either at Carnival time or on special festive occasions; no expense was spared to engage the most famous singers, male and female, and for every season (stagione) new operas were written, if possible by famous and favourite composers. Again, the dignity of the Church required, at least on great holy days, that the musical part of the worship should be grand and imposing; and the more MUSIC IN ITALY. [103] richly endowed churches and monasteries were quite able to rival the theatres. There was on every side a steady demand for musical production and execution, which offered abundant opportunity for the exercise of every kind of talent.

The musical education of youth was principally intrusted to the Church. Monasteries and religious institutions were careful to train the musical strength, which was later to be at their disposal; special institutions were founded, which were in part the origin of the future Conservatoires, whose mission it was to train their scholars as singers, instrumentalists, or composers, and in every case as thoroughly cultivated musicians. In Venice there were four such foundations in which boys, and more especially girls, received musical instruction, preparatory to devoting themselves to the service of the Church: the Ospidale della Pietà, intended for foundlings; Ospedaletto, where Sacchini was kapellmeister at this time; Gli Mendicanti, and Gli Incurabili, then under Galuppi's direction.5 In Naples were similar establishments, De Poveridi Gesù-Christo; Della Pietà de' Turchini; S. Onofrio; Loretto. Though all were originally intended as nurseries for church music, yet they were of almost equal service to music of a secular nature; indeed, the most highly gifted among the scholars were likely to prefer the more brilliant and profitable career of the opera stage. But the separation was never complete; operatic composers for the most part worked also for the churches, where opera singers and even professional instrumentalists were often heard. Ecclesiastics, too, practised music in various branches, often with zeal and success. Although this union of musical forces, through the overpowering influence of the opera, worked in time prejudicially on the dignity and purity of church music, yet there can be no doubt of its good effect on the study of form and musical science. The result was all the greater, since the almost instinctive steadfastness of the national taste preserved musicians from aberrations which are only to be checked by rigid limitations as to style and form. An art so formed, THE ITALIAN TOUR. [104] with so one-sided a cultivation, must of course die out in the end; but the extraordinary accomplishments of numerous Italian masters cannot fail to impress us with admiration of the share which Italian music, in its fulness of life and activity, had in producing a true musical atmosphere. It was indeed, this firm foundation of scientific knowledge which made possible a liberation of music from its confined Italian limits without abandoning the laws of artistic formation.

Under these circumstances Italy enjoyed undisputed and unlimited sovereignty in all matters relating to music. Spain and England acknowledged it almost without reserve; in France, where the impulse proceeding originally from Italy, had been modified by national characteristics, the influence of Italy was now beginning to reassert itself. In Germany alone, the works of great masters (we need only remind our readers of the Bach family as representatives of German church music; of Keiser, the creator of German opera in Hamburg) bore witness to an independent development of music. Even here it was not as "German as the German oaks," and bore many traces of Italian or French influences; but the comprehension and cultivation of form, the substance and spirit of the music, are purely German. This German music, however, was principally confined to Protestant North Germany; it was nourished by no favour from the great, and the colder artistic mind of North Germany hindered it from attaining the popularity which was enjoyed by music in Italy. At all the German courts, Protestant as well as Catholic, the opera was Italian; the Catholic church music was under the exclusive sway of Italian composers; all singers, male and female, were either born or educated in Italy, and so, for the most part, were the instrumentalists, although it was in instrumental music that Germany first challenged the supremacy of Italy.

The curious attraction of Germans to Italy, which has existed in all ages under different manifestations, must have worked with peculiar power on musicians.6 The German LEOPOLD' MOZART'S HOPES. [105] composers of the last century (with the exception of the North German Protestant church composers) all studied and laid the foundation of their fame in Italy, even those who, like Handel and Gluck, possessed original power enough to enable them later to strike out a path for themselves.7

It may be said that, in this sense, Mozart's pilgrimage to Rome was the last of its kind; to him it was accorded, not, only to attain to the highest aim of Italian opera but to break the bonds of nationality, by lending depth and substance to the Italian perfection of form, while, with the wealth of knowledge acquired in Italy, he furnished artistic form and expression to the national opera of Germany.

In taking his son to Italy, L. Mozart had a twofold end in view. Wolfgang was not so much to continue his scholastic training (that he could have done at home) as to emerge from a narrow provincial existence into the great world of art, and by extended experiences to gain the refined taste of a cultivated man of the world. He was also to gain fresh laurels, and to prepare the way for a prosperous and glorious future. L. Mozart expected from the excitable Italians special interest and applause on account of Wolfgang's youth; and in this he was not disappointed. But he soon found that no pecuniary gain was to be expected from this journey, since all concerts (accademie) were given by exclusive companies, or by a public institute without entrance money; so that the artist could count on no receipts but a voluntary fee from the entrepreneur, which was not usually large. Soon after his arrival in Italy L. Mozart remarks to his wife, a remark often repeated, that although not rich he has "always a little more than is absolutely necessary"; and so bearing his main object in view, he is quite content.

THE ITALIAN TOUR. [106]

Considering the constant fulfilment of duty as the most important factor in education, he insisted on Wolfgang's continuing his regular studies during their journey. A long list of compositions, partly suggested by passing events, partly set studies, bear witness to this. Wolfgang, who was very fond of arithmetic (p. 22), asks his sister to send his arithmetic book after him, so that he may go on with his sums. In Rome he had a present of an Italian translation of the "Arabian Nights," which amused him very much. Soon after we find him reading "Telemachus." L. Mozart was too well informed himself to look upon this journey as instructive merely from a musical point of view. His letters show that he took interest in politics and social life, in nature, art, and antiquity; he sends home long descriptions of the journey, which are to serve as preliminaries to future conversations over the books and engravings he is collecting. Wolfgang evinced the same fresh interest in everything he saw, and offered no opposition to the care his father took of his health. "You know that he can be moderate," writes L. Mozart (February 17,1770), and I can assure you that I have never seen him so careful of his health as in this country. He leaves alone all that he does not think good for him, and many days he eats but little; yet he is always fat and well, and merry and happy the whole day long. And from Rome he writes (April 14, 1770), that Wolfgang "takes as much care of his health as if he were a grown man."

Neither the honours with which he was everywhere overwhelmed, nor his performances as a musician, had any effect in spoiling the unsophisticated nature of the boy; he was always bright and animated, full of jokes and merry absurdities, and retaining a strong attachment to home and the home circle amid all the distractions of the journey. In his letters to his sister, he falls into a ludicrous jargon, composed of any number of different languages, and of childish jokes and teasings, after the manner of brothers and sisters who have grown up together and are under no sort of restraint in their intercourse.

But whenever the subject is connected with music, through all the joking tone can be traced a lively interest and a INSPRUCK—ROVEREDO, 1770. [107] decided and impartial judgment; and the whole tone of his letters breathes hearty sympathy and amiability. Fortunate circumstances and a sensible education had combined with the happiest result; and there can be no doubt that the concentration of Mozart's early training on one object had the indirect effect of keeping at a safe distance much that might have been hurtful to his disposition.

The father and son left Salzburg at the beginning of December, 1769.8 Many threads of personal recommendation stretched thence into the Tyrol and upper Italy, partly from mercantile connections, partly through the noble families belonging to the Cathedral Chapter, and the travellers had introductions which gained them admittance into widely different circles. Their first stay was at Inspruck, where they were well received by Count Spaur, brother to the Salzburg Capitular. On December 14, at a concert given by the nobility at the house of Count Künigl, Wolfgang played a concerto at sight, which had been put before him as a test of his skill; at the close he was presented with it, and twelve ducats in addition. The Inspruck newspaper testified (December 18) that "Herr Wolfgang Mozart, whose extraordinary musical attainments have made him famous alike in the imperial court, in England, France, Holland, and throughout the Holy Roman Empire," had given in this performance the most convincing proofs of his marvellous skill. "This youthful musician, who is just thirteen years old, has added fresh brilliancy to his fame, and has commanded the unanimous approbation of all musical connoisseurs."

As soon as they entered Italy the marks of honour with which the young artist was received became more animated and enthusiastic. At Roveredo the nobles arranged a concert at the house of Baron Todeschi, who had known Mozart at Vienna. "There is no need to say how Wolfgang is received," writes his father. When he wanted to play the organ at the principal church, the report of it spread through THE ITALIAN TOUR. [108] the town, and the church was so full that it took two strong men to clear the way to the choir, and then it was a quarter of an hour before they could get to the organ, they were so besieged by the audience.

The enthusiasm in Verona was still greater. As there was an opera every evening, a week elapsed before a concert could be arranged; but in the meantime invitations poured in from the Marchese Carlotti, Count Giusti del Giardino, Locatelli, &c.

Wolfgang performed a symphony of his own composition before a select assembly of connoisseurs, besides playing difficult pieces at sight, and composing a song to some dictated words, which he afterwards sang. The scene at Roveredo was repeated when he went to play the organ at St. Thomas's Church. The press was so great that they were obliged to get into the church through the monastery, and even then they could hardly have reached the organ had not the monks formed a ring round them, and so made a way through the crowd. "When it was over, the noise was still greater, for every one wanted to see the little organist."

Newspapers and poets vied with each other in extolling the marvellous apparition. The Receiver-General, Pietro Lugiati, chief among intellectual dilettanti, caused a life-size portrait of Wolfgang at the clavier to be painted in oils, and acquainted his mother with this honour in a long letter which contained warm expressions of admiration for the "raro e portentoso giovane."9

On January 10 they entered Mantua well and hearty in spite of the cold; but Wolfgangerl looked, his father said, owing to the fresh air and the heat of the stove, "as if he had gone through a campaign, a sort of reddish brown, particularly round the eyes and mouth, something like his Majesty the Emperor." Here too, they were warmly received by all the distinguished dilettanti of the place; Signora Bettinelli in especial lavished all a mother's care on PROGRAMME OF CONCERT AT MANTUA, 1770. [109] the boy, and wept at parting from him. A Signora Sartoretti invited them to dine with her, and sent by her servants a vase with a beautiful bouquet tied with red ribbon, and in the middle of the ribbon a piece of four ducats folded in a poem addressed by the Signora to Wolfgang.

On January 16, the concert of the Philharmonic Society was given in their capital hall, Wolfgang being the principal performer. The programme, which we append, gives some idea of Wolfgang's performances in Italy.

Serie delle composizione musicali da eseguirsi nell' accademia pubblica filarmonica di Mantova la sera del di 16 del corrente Gennajo, 1770.

In occasione della venuta del espertissimo giovanetto

Sign. Amadeo Mozart.

1. Sinfonia di composizione del Sign. Amadeo.

2. Concerto di Gravecembalo esibitogli e da lui eseguito all im prowiso.

3. Aria d'un Professore.

4. Sonata di Cembalo all improwiso eseguita dal giovine con variazioni analoghe d'invenzione sua e replicata poi in tuono diverso da quello in cui è scritta.

5. Concerto di Violino d'un Professore.

6. Aria composta e cantata nell' atto stesso dal Sign. Amadeo all'

improwiso, co' debiti accompagnamenti eseguiti sul Cembalo, sopra parole fatte espressamente; ma da lui non vedute in prima.

7. Altra sonata di Cembalo, composta insieme ed eseguita dal medesimo sopra un motivo musicale propostogli improwissamente dal primo Violino.

8. Aria d'un Professore.

9. Concerto d'Oboè d'un Professore.

10. Fuga musicale, composta ed eseguita dal. Sign. Amadeo gul Cembalo;

e condotta a compiuto termine secondo le leggi del contrappunto, sopra un semplice tema per la medesima presentatogli all' im-prowiso.

11. Sinfonia dal medesimo, concertata con tutte le parte sul Cembalo sopra una sola parte di Violino postagli dinanzi improwisamente.

12. Duetto di Professori.

13. Trio in cui il Sign. Amadeo ne suonerà col Violino una parte all improwiso.

14. Sinfonia ultima di composizione del Suddetto.

THE ITALIAN TOUR. [110]

The result was brilliant, the applause indescribable, and, according to a newspaper account, the musicians in Mantua were unanimous in declaring that this youth was born to surpass the most accomplished masters of the art.

This notice and others dwell chiefly on the precocious performances of the youthful prodigy. But wonderful as were Wolfgang's accomplishments as a clavier-player, violinist, and vocalist, they were thrown into the shade by his talents as a composer. Even in his public performances the prominence given to improvisation is remarkable, and the readiness with which he adapted the most varied subjects, always fulfilling the conditions of musical art, presupposes not only great liveliness of imagination, but a perfect mastery of mechanical form. In estimating Mozart's early acquirements, the most impressive fact to be noticed is the absence of any exaggeration of feeling or over-cultivation; all is natural and unstrained. His talent was no forced exotic, which springs up quickly and as quickly withers away; it was a plant of healthy growth, coming gradually to maturity; and the mechanical skill acquired in youth was the best foundation for the free creative power of manhood.

Father and son arrived at Milan before the end of January, and found a safe and comfortable lodging in the Augustine monastery of San Marco. A lay brother was appointed to wait on them, even to the warming of their beds, which attention caused Wolfgang to be "delighted when bedtime came." Their warm friend and patron was the Governor-General, Count Carl Joseph von Firmian (b. 1716). He had been partly educated at Salzburg (where his elder brother Joh. Bapt. Anton was Archbishop until 1740), and had there founded a literary society, whose earnest endeavours after a freer method of scientific inquiry had led to many hard struggles with authority.10 He afterwards studied at Leyden, and acquired cultivation and taste by frequent travels in France and Italy. As Ambassador at Naples, he won the heart of Winckelmann, who speaks of MILAN, 1770. [111] him as one of the greatest, wisest, most humane, and most learned men of his time and country.11 Count Firmian was appointed Govemor-General of Lombardy in 1759, and spared no efforts to promote the material well-being as well as the intellectual and artistic improvement of his province.

Like Münchhausen,12 he was not only a patron, but an accomplished judge of science and of the arts, and his support and hospitality were freely bestowed on artists and scholars. The Mozarts found a ready sympathiser in him, and his introduction to families of rank obtained for them all the pleasures of the Carnival; they were invited to balls and masquerades, and were obliged to follow the fashion, and order dominos and bajuti (caps, which covered the face to the chin and fell back over the shoulders).13 L. Mozart thought they were exceedingly becoming to Wolfgang, but shook his head over his own "playing the fool in his old age," and consoled himself with the thought that the things "could be used for linings afterwards."

At the opera, where they were often present, they made the acquaintance of the Maestro Piccinni, who was producing his "Cesare in Egitto." Wolfgang's performances at a public concert excited here as elsewhere the wondering admiration of artists and amateurs. "It is the same in this place as in others," writes L. Mozart, "I need not particularise."14 The friendship which Wolfgang struck up with two clever young singers, of fourteen and fifteen years old, led to his composing for them two Latin motetts.

But Count Firmian imposed a severer task on the young musician. He gave a brilliant soirée at his Palace, graced by the presence of the Duke of Modena and his daughter, and the Cardinal Archbishop of Milan. Wolfgang was commissioned to prepare for this soirée three songs to Metastasio's words as a proof of his power to produce serious dramatic music.

THE ITALIAN TOUR. [112]

The principal piece was a grand aria with an accompanied recitative from "Demofoonte," the celebrated and often-composed "Misero pargoletto" (77 K.). The recitative is very elaborate, in high tragic style; its forcible character is rendered chiefly by the orchestra.

The air consists of an Adagio with a Poco allegro interposed in the same tone throughout. The two other songs (78, 79 K.) from Metastasio's "Artaserse," "Per pietà bel idol mio" and "Per quel paterne amplesso," have each only one movement; the last song has a short introductory recitative. In the two latter songs the simple Cantabile is embellished by bravura passages, which are wanting altogether in the first. They are all written for a soprano voice,15 and stood the test as representative of the dramatic song of the time. Count Firmian presented Wolfgang with a snuff-box and 20 gigliati,16 together with a copy of Metastasio's works. But the most important result of this soirée, and of their stay in Milan, was that Wolfgang was commissioned to write the new opera for the next season; the first singers—Gabrielli, with her sister and Ettore—were to be engaged for it, and the remuneration was fixed at 100 gigliati and free quarters in Milan during their stay. The libretto was to be sent after them, so that Wolfgang might make himself familiar with it, the recitative was to be forwarded to Milan in October, and the composer to be there himself at the beginning of November, to complete the opera in the neighbourhood of the singers, and to rehearse it for production at Christmas. These conditions were both agreeable and convenient, as they did not interfere with the journey through Italy, and allowed Wolfgang ample time to complete the opera quietly.

Mozart's first quartet was composed on the way from Milan to Parma, and dated Lodi, March 15, 7 o'clock in the evening (80 K.). At Parma the celebrated singer Lucrezia Agujari, called "la Bastardella," invited them to sup with her, and sang so as to justify the reports they had heard of "LA BASTARDELLA"—BOLOGNA, 1770. [113] her execution and the fabulous compass of her voice. "I could not have believed that she could sing to C in altissimo," writes L. Mozart, "had I not heard it with my own ears. The passages which Wolfgang has written were in her song, and she sang them somewhat softer than the deeper notes, but as clearly as an octave pipe in an organ. In fact, the trills and all were note for note just as Wolfgang has written them down. Besides this she has good alto notes, as low as G. She is not handsome, but certainly not ugly; has a wild look in her eyes at times, like people who are subject to fits, and she limps with one leg. She has always conducted herself well, and has therefore a good name and reputation."

On March 24 they arrived at Bologna. Here they were received by Field Marshal Count Pallavicini in a way that reminded them of Count Firmian. "They are two noblemen," writes L. Mozart, "who possess identical tastes and modes of thought, and are equally amiable, generous, and dignified." The Count arranged a brilliant concert in his own house, attended by 150 persons of the high nobility, among them the Cardinal Legate Antonio Colonna Branci-forte, and the chief of connoisseurs—Padre Martini. The company assembled at 8 o'clock, and did not disperse until near midnight.

L.. Mozart considered that Wolfgang made a greater effect in Bologna than elsewhere, that city being the seat of so many artists and learned men. Here they met the celebrated Spagnoletta (Gius. Useda), from Milan, the kapellmeister, Vincenzo Manfredini, known also as an author, who had visited them at Salzburg, on his journey from St. Petersburg in 1769, and the famous alto, Gius. Aprile.17 Bologna, the father thought, and thought rightly, was the best centre whence Wolfgang's fame could spread over Italy, since he had there to stand the severest tests from Padre Martini, the idol of the Italians, and the acknowledged arbiter in all matters of art. The Franciscan Giambattista Martini18 THE ITALIAN TOUR. [114] (born 1760) was esteemed not only as the composer of short, concise, artistically worked-out sacred pieces, but, from his thorough and comprehensive researches, as unquestionably the most learned theoretical musician of his day. Only one volume of his pedantic "Storia della Musica" had as yet appeared, and his classical work on counterpoint was only in preparation;19 but he was already considered infallible on all musical questions, both in Italy and abroad. His possession of an unequalled musical library20 placed him in correspondence with numerous musicians, scholars, and princes. Disputed points were submitted to his arbitration, and his advice was sought in the bestowal of official places. A recommendation from Padre Martini was the best possible key to success. His authority was the more readily acknowledged, since he united to his rare attainments a singular degree of modesty, and a ready alacrity to afford instruction, counsel, or assistance whenever required. He preserved, even in his learned disputes, invariable dignity and amiability,21 with a certain amount of cautious reserve. L. Mozart might well be anxious to win the favour of such a man for his son. Whenever they visited him Padre Martini gave Wolfgang a fugue to work out, which was always done to the great contrapuntist's entire satisfaction.

The companion figure to this learned monk was a musical celebrity of quite another kind, whose acquaintance Mozart also made in Bologna. Farinelli (Carlo Broschi, b. 1705), a pupil of Porpora, first appeared in 1722 in Metastasio's "Angelica," and an intimacy resulted between the singer and the poet (who called him his caro gemello) which had an important effect on the development of Italian opera. Farinelli's career in Italy was an unbroken success, and he was enthusiastically received in Vienna and London.22 Arriving in Spain in 1736, his singing had power to dispel the FARINELLI—FLORENCE, 1770. [115] melancholy of Philip V.; he was summoned daily to the king's presence, and became his acknowledged favourite, a position which he retained under Ferdinand VI. and Queen Barbara. On the accession of Charles III., in 1761, Farinelli was obliged to leave Spain, and living in wealthy ease at Bologna, indulged his tastes for art and science. He practised the amiable and refined hospitality of a cultivated man of the world in his beautiful villa, and took peculiar interest in his fellow-artists, who never failed even in his old age to be charmed with his singing.23

The reports that have come down to us concerning the compass and beauty of his voice, concerning his way of taking breath, his portamento, his declamation,24 are as wonderful as was the success of this king of artists both in public and at court. He appears almost as a personification of the greatness and power of song in the last century, of which we can scarcely form a true conception, and which cause the history of music in that age to be mainly a history of song and singers. The period of Mozart's musical education was still under this influence, and, although the absolute sovereignty of song was soon to decline, the impression made on him in his youth by Farinelli and other great singers was not likely to be forgotten.25

On March 30 the travellers reached Florence. Their Austrian introductions secured them a most favourable reception in this city. The imperial ambassador, Count Rosenberg, immediately made known their arrival at court, where they were very graciously received by the Archduke Leopold, He recollected their former stay at Vienna, and inquired after Nannerl. Wolfgang played at court on April 2, accompanied by Nardini, the celebrated violinist; the Marquis de Ligniville, director of music, laid the most difficult fugues before Wolfgang to work out; he accomplished everything "with as much ease as eating a piece of bread."

THE ITALIAN TOUR. [116]

The Marquis de Ligniville, Duca di Conca, &c., was considered one of the most thorough masters of counterpoint in Italy. As a proof of his skill he had written a "Salve Regina"26 and "Stabat Mater" for three parts, in the form of different kinds of canon. To the latter work is prefixed a long treatise (dated April 11, 1767) for the Philharmonic Society in Bologna, of which he was a member; the object of the treatise was to show that in accurate contrapuntal works the traditions of the old Roman school were preserved. In accordance with this view Ligniville apologises ironically to followers of the gusto moderno for the disuse of drums and trumpets, and for the simple old modulations to which he confines himself as being ignorant of the new lights. He allowed Wolfgang to study his works; and the latter copied neatly nine movements of the thirty canons of the "Stabat Mater." (Anh. 238 K.) Not satisfied with this, Wolfgang aimed at himself becoming a master of counterpoint. A "Kyrie a cinque con diversi canoni" in three five-part canons in unison was evidently an imitation of Ligniville's compositions, and was only one of many studies in the same difficult art.27 A loose sheet contains besides the first canon of the Kyrie, a design for a four-part canon, and five close canons or riddle canons, the first part and the number of parts only being given, [See Page Image] expressly noted di Mozart:—

STUDIES IN CANON-WRITING, 1770. [117]

2. Canon.—Ter temis canite vocibus. [See Page Image]

3. Canon.—Ad duodecimam: clama ne cesses.

Con - fi - te - bor ti bi Do - mi-ne in gen - ti -bus et no -mi - ni to - o can - ta -. - - - - - bo.

THE ITALIAN TOUR. [118]

4. Canon.—Tertia pars si placet.

Con - fi - te.. bor ti-biDo - - - - - mi-ne in gen- ti-bu« et no -mi-ne tu - o can - ta bo.

5. Canon.—Ter voce ciemus.

[See Page Image] Nos. 1, 3, 4 of these are copied from the vignettes with which Padre Martini's "Storia Universale" is adorned. 28 He had made Wolfgang a present of his book, and the latter probably set to work at once to find out the knack of writing canons. We can see the ease with which he mastered his task.

At Florence, they fell in with their old London acquaintance Manzuoli, and Wolfgang was rejoiced to hear that there was a probability of his being engaged to sing in his opera at Milan.

In order to incite Manzuoli's ardour, Wolfgang gave him all his songs to sing, including those he had composed in Milan.

At Florence, too, Wolfgang formed a tender friendship with Thomas Linley, a boy of fourteen, the son of an English composer; he was a pupil of the celebrated violin-player Nardini, and played so exquisitely as almost to surpass his teacher. The two boys met at the house of Signora Maddalena Morelli, who was famous as an improvisatrice, under the name of Corilla,29 and had been crowned as a poetess on the capitol in 1776;30 during the ROME, 1770—ALLEGRI'S MISERERE. [119] few days that the Mozarts stayed in Florence the boys were inseparable, and performed together or by turns, "more like men than boys." They parted with many tears, and Tommasino, as Linley was called in Italy, brought to Wolfgang, as a parting gift, a poem which Corilla had written for him.

According to Burney,31 Tommasino and little Mozart were talked of throughout Italy as two geniuses of the greatest promise, and in later life at Vienna, Mozart spoke with warmth of Linley,32 and the hopes which had been frustrated by his early death.33

It was with regret that they left Florence; Leopold Mozart wrote to his wife: "I wish that you could see Florence, its neighbourhood, and the situation of the city; I am sure you would say that it is a place to live and die in." But time pressed, if they were to be in Rome for the carnival.

They had a fatiguing journey, in dreadful weather, that reminded them of Salzburg rather than of Rome, and passed through uncultivated country with wretched inns containing plenty of filth but little to eat, except perhaps a couple of eggs and some cabbage. They arrived in Rome about midday on Wednesday in Holy Week, amidst a storm of thunder and lightning, "received like grand people with a discharge of artillery." There was just time to hurry to the Sistine Chapel and hear Allegri's Miserere. It was here that Wolfgang accomplished his celebrated feat of musical ear and memory.34

It was the custom on Wednesday and Friday in Holy Week for the choir of the Pope's household to sing the Miserere (Ps. 50), composed by Dom. Allegri, which was arranged alternately for a four and five-part chorus, having a final THE ITALIAN TOUR. [120] chorus in nine parts.35 This performance was universally considered as one of the most wonderful in Rome; the impression made by it in conjunction with the solemn rites it accompanied was always described as overpowering.36 "You know," writes L. Mozart, "that this celebrated Miserere is so jealously guarded, that members of the chapel are forbidden, under pain of excommunication, to take their parts out of the chapel, or to copy or allow it to be copied.37 We have got it, notwithstanding. Wolfgang has written it down, and I should have sent it to Salzburg in this letter, were not our presence necessary for its production. More depends on the performance than even on the composition.38 Besides, we must not let our secret fall into other hands, ut non incurramus mediate vel immediate in censuram ecclesiæ." When the performance was repeated on Good Friday, Wolfgang took his manuscript with him into the chapel, and holding it in his hat, corrected some passages where his memory had not been quite true. The affair became known, and naturally made a great sensation; Wolfgang was called upon to execute the Miserere in presence of the Papal singer Christofori, who was amazed at its correctness. L. Mozart's news excited consternation in Salzburg, mother and daughter believing that Wolfgang had sinned in transcribing the Miserere, and fearing unpleasant consequences if it should become known. "When we read your ideas about the MOZART'S RECEPTION IN ROME. [121] Miserere," answered the father, "we both laughed loud and long. You need not be in the least afraid. It is taken in quite another way. All Rome, and the Pope himself, know that Wolfgang has written the Miserere, and instead of punishment it has brought him honour. You must not fail to show my letter everywhere, and let his Grace the Archbishop know of it."

The Mozarts prepared at once to take part in all the festivities of Holy and Easter weeks. "Our handsome dress," writes L. Mozart, "our German speech, and the want of ceremony with which I call to our servant to order the Swiss guard to make way for us, help us through everywhere." He appears to have been flattered that Wolfgang was sometimes taken for a German nobleman or prince, and he for his tutor. At the cardinals' table Wolfgang stood near the seat of Cardinal Pallavicini, who asked him his name. On hearing it he inquired in surprise, "What! are you the famous boy of whom I have heard so much?" talked to him kindly, praised his Italian, and spoke broken German to him.

At the conclusion of the Easter festivities they set to work to present their numerous letters of introduction, and were warmly received by the noble families of Chigi, Barberini, Bracciano, Altemps, and others: one assembly followed another, all in Wolfgang's honour. The astonishment at his performances increased, according to L. Mozart, the farther they proceeded into Italy; "but Wolfgang," he adds, "does not remain stationary; his acquirements increase day by day, so that the greatest masters and connoisseurs cannot find words for their astonishment." For the Academies he appears to have written a Symphony (81, K.) and two soprano songs (82, 83, K.)from Metastasio's "Demo-foonte,"39 "Se ardire e speranfca" and "Se tutti i mali miei." In the midst of more serious study he found time to send his sister a new country dance, in return for which she was to send him some new minuets by Haydn. About this time they fell in with Meissner, who was on his way from Naples to Salzburg; Wolfgang appeared with him at the German Jesuit College, where Herr v. Mölk, of Salzburg, was studying.

THE ITALIAN TOUR. [122]

On May 8, they quitted Rome, where their stay had been in every way agreeable; they had been comfortably lodged in the house of the Papal courier Uslinghi, on the Piazza del Clementino; their hostess and her daughter treated them with every attention and kindness, making them feel quite at home in the house, and refusing to hear of payment when they left. The journey to Naples was one not to be undertaken without some apprehension. The roads were unsafe, a merchant had lately been assassinated, and "sbirri and bloodthirsty Papal soldiers" were in pursuit of the murderer; L. Mozart hoped that similar measures would be taken in Naples. He thought it well, therefore, to travel with four Augustine monks, which was further an advantage, as it assured them a friendly welcome and hospitality in all the monasteries which lay on their way. In Capua, they were allowed to be present as guests at the taking of the veil by a nun of high rank.

Naples, where they remained from the middle of May to the middle of June, impressed our travellers with the irresistible charm of beautiful nature.

At first they suffered from cold, but this soon turned to excessive heat, and Wolfgang, who had always longed to look brown, saw his wish in a fair way to be accomplished. They had good recommendations to the court from Vienna. Queen Caroline, whom Wolfgang had lately seen in Vienna, received them graciously, accosting them whenever they met; but Wolfgang was not summoned to play at court. The King, although not unmusical, cared for nothing that required any cultivation; "what he is," writes L. Mozart, "can be better told than written." The all-powerful minister Tanucci, placed his major-domo at their service, to show them all that was worth seeing. Other nobles followed this example; and every evening a magnificent equipage was placed at their service, in which they joined the brilliant passeggio of the nobility on the Strada Nuova or on the quay, clad in elegant summer costumes. L. Mozart had ordered for himself a coat of maroon-coloured watered silk with sky blue velvet facings, and Wolfgang rejoiced in an apple-green coat with rose-coloured facings and silver NAPLES, 1770—LADY HAMILTON. [123] buttons. Among Wolfgang's patrons was the old Princess Belmonte, the friend of Metastasio, and interesting to musicians as having been roused from deep melancholy by the singing of the tenor Raff.

The rendezvous of artists and scholars was the house of the British ambassador, Sir Wm. Hamilton, whose acquaintance the Mozarts had made in London. He himself was a violin-player, and pupil of Giardini; and his charming first wife was not only a cultivated judge of music, but was considered the best pianoforte-player in Naples; her "brilliant shakes and turns" were not less admired than the touching expression of her playing, which was in accord with her gentle nature.40 It was not without triumph that L. Mozart narrated her having trembled at playing before Wolfgang.

They found other old friends in the Swiss Tschudi, from Salzburg, and in a Dutchman named Doncker, who had been kind to them in Amsterdam; every one pressed forward to offer hospitality and assistance. Under these favourable circumstances, a public concert was given on May 28, with the most brilliant success; a success the more welcome, as they were not likely to find their tour a profitable one for some time to come. L. Mozart was delighted with the situation, fertility, animation, and curiosity of Naples; but he was shocked by the wretchedness of the population, and above all by the superstition which prevailed not only among the lazaroni, but also in the higher ranks of society. He witnessed an example of it when Wolfgang played at the Conservatorio della Pietà; the skill with which he used his left hand suggested to the audience that there was magic in a ring he wore; when he drew it off and played without it the wonder and applause were redoubled.

The time of their stay in Naples was favourable to musical interests. Simultaneously with the excellent representations of comic opera in the Teatro Nuovo, there was opened on May 30, the King's fête-day, the Grand Opera in San Carlo, THE ITALIAN TOUR. [124] for which Jomelli, Caffaro, and Ciccio di Majo were engaged; Anna de Amicis was prima donna, Aprile principal male singer. By a curious coincidence, Wolfgang was a witness of the first attempt made by Jomelli, who had left Stuttgart for Naples in 1768, to regain the favour of his countrymen. De Rogatis' opera "Armida Abbandonata," in which he made his reappearance, was designed to satisfy the higher claims of dramatic music, and to bring the results of his studies in Germany before the Italians, who were, however, slow to appreciate them. Wolfgang thought the opera fine, but too pedantic and old-fashioned for the theatre. This seems to have been the universal opinion; and later the increasing distaste to Jomelli's operas obliged the withdrawal of his "Iphigenia in Aulide," and the substitution of "Demofoonte" (November 4, 1770).41

The Mozarts found Jomelli polite and friendly. Through him they became acquainted with the impresario Amadori, who offered Wolfgang a libretto for San Carlo; but this, owing to his previous engagement in Milan, he was obliged to refuse, together with similar offers which had been made to him in Bologna and Rome.

On June 25, they travelled with post-horses back to Rome. Through the fault of a clumsy postilion their carriage was upset; Leopold saved his son by springing out before the danger came; he himself sustained considerable injury to his leg. Wolfgang was so tired by the journey (they had driven twenty-seven hours without a stop), that after he had eaten a little he fell asleep in his chair and was undressed and put to bed by his father, without waking.

This stay in Rome, during which they were present at the illumination of St. Peter's, at the delivery of Neapolitan tribute, and other ceremonies, brought Wolfgang a new distinction; he was invested by the Pope, in an "RITTER MOZART"—BOLOGNA, 1770. [125] audience of July 8, with the order of the Golden Spur, which the father announces, not without pride, as "a piece of good luck."42 "You may imagine how I laugh," he writes, "to hear him called Signor Cavaliere."

The honour apparently made little impression on Wolfgang. For some years his father insisted on his signing his compositions "Del Sign. Cavaliere W. A. Mozart," and advised him to wear his order in Paris; but later he let it drop, and one never hears of Ritter Mozart, whereas Gluck, who like Klopstock, wished to be outwardly recognised as the prophet of higher culture, was very tenacious of his dignity as a Ritter. Mozart was too simple-natured, and too essentially a musician, to set any store by outward distinctions.

On July 10, they left Rome, where Pomp. Battoni had painted a fine portrait of the young maestro, and travelled by way of Cività Castellana, Loretto, and Sini-gaglia to Bologna. They arrived on July 20, intending to remain here quietly until the completion and rehearsal of his opera should render Wolfgang's presence in Milan indispensable. L. Mozart's injured leg was still troublesome, and he was otherwise unwell, so that the friendly invitation of Count Pallavicini, to pass the hot season at his country-house in the neighbourhood of Bologna, was joyfully accepted. They found the coolest, best-appointed rooms prepared for them; couriers and servants were placed at their disposal, and their intercourse with the noble family was pleasant and unrestrained. The father was most carefully tended, and Wolfgang struck up a firm friendship with the young Count, who was just his own age, played the piano, spoke three languages, had six tutors, and was already a chamberlain.

THE ITALIAN TOUR. [126]

Wolfgang composed industriously, and writes to his sister about four Italian symphonies, five or six songs, and a motett, which he had written. His only distress was that he had lost his singing voice; he had not five clear notes left, either high or low, and could no longer sing his own compositions. At Bologna they made the acquaintance of the operatic composer, Joh. Misliweczeck (1737-1781), who was finishing an oratorio for Padua, and was to write the opera in Milan for 1772. "He is an honest man," writes L. Mozart, "and we have become great friends." But their principal intercourse was with Padre Martini, with whom they became very intimate, visiting him daily, and holding long musical discussions. The discourse and instruction of the great contrapuntist could not be without influence on Wolfgang's work. A list of sketches in difficult contrapuntal forms, which according to the handwriting belong to this time, must have been studies suggested by Padre Martini. Of peculiar interest is a three-part Miserere for alto, tenor, and bass, with figured Continuo, superscribed Del Sigr. Caval. W. A. Mozart, in Bologna, 1770 (85 K.). It is evidently written under the influence of Allegri's Roman Miserere, generally harmonic, with some few imitative introductory passages, simple and very beautiful. The three last movements, Quoniam, Benigne, Tunc acceptabis, are written by another hand, and evidently not composed by Mozart; the subjects are severer and more simple. Probably Padre Martini wound up the youth's exercises by these movements of his own composition.43

The Philharmonic Society of Naples, whose festival performance Mozart had attended in company with Burney,44 ELECTION TO THE ÀCCÀDEMIA FILARMONICA. [127] honoured him with a signal proof of admiration and esteem. This famous society, founded in 1666, upon the presentation by Wolfgang of a memorial, and his accomplishment of a prescribed task, elected him a member of their body as Compositore. This honour was eagerly sought after by the most distinguished composers. For composers of church music it was important, since Benedict XIV., in a bull of 1749, had given a kind of overseership to the Philharmonic Society; only its members could become kapellmeisters to churches in Bologna, and by a Papal decree this membership was allowed to take the place of any examination.45 The distinction was the greater since members were required46 to be twenty years old, to have been admitted into the first class of compositore, and to have been a year in the second class of cantori and sonatori. Leopold describes the election as follows:—

At 4 o'clock in the afternoon of October 9 Wolfgang was required to appear at the hall of the society. There the Princeps Academiæ and the two censors (who are old kapellmeisters) gave him an antiphon from the Antiphonary; he was then conducted by the verger to a neighbouring apartment and locked in, there to set it in three parts. When it was ready it was examined by the censor, and all the kapellmeistem and composers, who voted on it by means of black and white balls. All the balls being white he was called in, and amid clapping of hands and congratulations the Princeps Academiæ in the name of the society announced his election. He returned thanks, and the thing was over. I was all the time on the other side of the hall cooped up in the Academical Library. Every one was astonished that he was ready so soon, for many have spent three hours over an antiphon of three lines. N.B.—You must know that it was not an easy task, for this kind of composition excludes many things of which he had been told beforehand. He finished it in exactly half an hour.

The task was, according to the old statute, a Cantus firmus from the Gregorian Antiphonary, to be elaborated contrapuntally for four, five, or eight voices a capella (in duple time); it was to be executed strictly according to rule, adhering to the singular treatment of the harmonies belonging to the old THE ITALIAN TOUR. [128] style of church music. After 1773, the examination became more severe,47 and an Italian who stood the test at the beginning of this century, speaks of it as consisting of three separate compositions. First, the given subject was to be arranged for four voices in falsobordone, i.e., in plain harmonics, after the fashion of our congregational chorales. The second test consisted of a disposizione di parte. One voice retained the Cantus firmus, the others were to be set to it in canonic or imitative mode. The motifs were often taken from the Cantus firmus itself, in a rhythmical, diminished form. Strict imitation was not enjoined; it sufficed that the voices should follow each other with similar passages. The third task was a fuga reale, a perfect fugue, according to the rules of the church mode of the Cantus firmus, in which one phrase is carried through as a theme, the other parts serving as intermediate phrases.

Wolfgang did not go through this examination without preparation. An elaboration in his boyish handwriting of the Cantus firmus "Cibavit eos in adipe" (44 K.) is probably an exercise made under Padre Martini's directions. His trial work was a Cantus firmus from the Roman Antiphonary, a freely imitative contrapuntal arrangement of the accompanying parts overlying the Cantus firmus of the bass, which is only to be adhered to in its melodic progressions, and may be modified in its rhythmical divisions. The original from Mozart's hand is in the archives of the Philharmonic Society, where it was found by Gaspari in a volume of various test works chiefly by Martini's pupils.48 Next to it among the documents was a second elaboration written by Padre Martini, and copied by Wolfgang. Of this a second copy is in the Mozarteum, from Wolfgang's hand, with his father's subscription: Dal Sigr. Cavaliere Amadeo Wolfgango Mozart di Salisburgo, Scritto nella sala dell' accademia filarmonica in Bologna li 10 d' Ottobre, 1770. This was published as Wolfgang's own test work (86 K.).49 Probably Padre Martini went MILAN—"MITRIDATE." [129] through the boy's work, which was not free from faults, and was entered in the protocol as "satisfying the conditions," and showed him how the task might have been executed; he took the copy of the corrected exercise to Salzburg when he returned there.

On October 18 they arrived at Milan, and set vigorously to work on the completion of the opera. The subject chosen was "Mitridate, Re di Ponto," opera seria in three acts, versified by Vittorio Amadeo Cigna-Santi of Turin, where it had already been produced in 1767 with the music of the kapellmeister Quirico Gasparini. It was first necessary to finish the recitatives begun in Bologna, and Wolfgang worked so hard at them that he excused himself to his mother for not writing: "His fingers ached so from writing recitatives." Every air in the opera was written after consultation with the singers, male and female, as to what was best suited to their voice and style. By studying the taste of the vocalists and so engaging their zeal, the composer found the best security for the favourable reception of his work. If he were not fortunate enough to please his singers, either the whole must be rewritten to suit them, or he must be prepared to hear his music fall flat before the audience, if indeed something quite different were not substituted by the performer. When the composer possessed true talent and judgment, this co-operation was less detrimental to the work than if it had been left altogether to the discretion of the performers; nevertheless, the danger of undignified subjection to their caprices was considerable.

Wolfgang strove to extricate himself, as best he might, from the difficulties and intrigues which hindered his work. These were the more vexatious, as the singers arrived in Milan so late as to give him little time for composition. His father was careful not to allow him to overtax his strength, and especially insisted on his not working immediately after eating, unless under the pressure of great necessity; they usually went for a walk first. The mental strain of so important a task had a sobering effect on the boy's spirits, and he repeatedly enjoins his mother and sister to pray for the success of the opera, "so that we may all live happily THE ITALIAN TOUR. [130] together again." Leopold begs his friends in Salzburg to be charitable enough to write them cheerful, jocular letters, to distract Wolfgang's mind, There was, of course, the usual petty spite of the "Virtuosen canaille" to combat; they were not likely to leave unmolested a kapellmeister at once "a youth and a foreigner"; but the father shrank from no difficulties which could be overcome by "presence of mind and good sense," and declared they would gnaw through them all, "as the Hanswurst did through the Dreckberg."

The prima donna was not Gabrielli, but Antonia Bernasconi, daughter of a valet of the Duke of Wurtemberg, who had been educated as a singer by her stepfather, Andrea Bernasconi (kapellmeister at Munich since 1754).50 With her was "the first battle to fight," for it was through her that the envious cabal sought to overthrow the young composer. An unknown opponent of Wolfgang tried to persuade her to reject the songs and duets which he had composed for her, and to substitute those of Gasparini. But Bernasconi withstood this infamous proposal. She declared, on the contrary, that she was "beside herself with joy" at the songs which Wolfgang had written "according to her will and desire"; and the experienced old maestro Lampugnani, who rehearsed her part with her, was never tired of praising the compositions. Another cloud in the theatrical heavens appeared in the person of the tenor, the Cavalier Guglielmo d' Ettore, who had performed with great success at Munich and Padua.51 This storm, too, was happily allayed, but it must have been a threatening one, for L. Mozart reminds his son of it later, to encourage him, in Paris. The last arrival was the primo uomo—not Manzuoli, but Santorini, who had lately been singing at Turin, and had known them in Bologna. He was not at Milan till December 1, and the representation was to take place on the 26th.

The rehearsals began under favourable circumstances; even the copyist had performed his task so well that he "MITRIDATE"—HOPES AND FEARS. [131] had made only one mistake in the recitatives, and the singers proved excellent. "As far as I can judge, without fatherly partiality," wrote L. Mozart on December 8, "I believe that Wolfgang has written the opera well and with spirit." On December 17 the first rehearsal with full orchestra52 took place in the Redoutensaal, and the second two days later in the theatre; the verdict was altogether in favour of the new opera:—

Before the first rehearsal with the small orchestra, there were not wanting people who condemned the music beforehand as youthful and poor; they prophesied, as it were, declaring it impossible that so young a boy, and a German to boot, could write an Italian opera;53 they acknowledged him to be a great performer, but denied that he could by any means understand the chiaro ed oscuro needed in the drama. But since the first rehearsal these people are all dumbfoundered, and have not another word to say. The copyist is delighted, which is a good sign in Italy, for when the music pleases, the copyist often gains more by distributing and selling the songs than the kapellmeister by composing them;54 the singers, male and female, are highly satisfied, and the duet between the primo uomo and prima donna is especially praised."

The professori (instrumentalists) in the orchestra were pleased, and declared that the music was clear, distinct, and easy to play. Mozart's friends were as cheerful as his detractors were gloomy, and the most noted musicians, such as Fioroni, Sammartini, Lampugnani, and Piazza Colombo were decidedly in favour of the opera. Under these circumstances (although the first opera of the season was usually THE ITALIAN TOUR. [132] the least esteemed) they could look forward with calmness to the representation. This took place on December 26, under Wolfgang's conductorship, and the result surpassed all expectation. Every song, except those of the subordinate personages, was received with deafening applause, and with the cry "Evviva il maestro! evviva il maestrino!" Contrary to all custom at a first representation a song of the prima donna's was encored. At the second performance the applause was still greater, two songs and a duet being encored; but as it was Thursday, and the audience wished to go home to supper before midnight, so as not to encroach on Friday (fast day) the performance was cut short; it lasted, however, including the ballets at the end of each act, six good hours. On January 5, 1771, L. Mozart wrote home to his wife:—

Our son's opera is received with general approbation, and may be considered, as the Italians say, dalle stelle. Since the third performance we are alternately in the pit and the boxes, hearing or seeing, and every one is curious to talk with or look closely at the Signor Maestro, for the maestro is only bound to conduct the opera three evenings; Lampugnani accompanied at the second pianoforte, and now that Wolfgang does not play, he takes the first, and Melchior Chiesa the second. If any one had told me fifteen or eighteen years ago, when I heard so much of the opera songs and symphonies of Lampugnani in England, and Melchior Chiesa in Italy, that these two men would perform your son's music, and take his place at the piano to accompany his opera, I should probably have directed such a person to the madhouse as an idiot. We see by this how the power of God works in us men when we do not bury the talents that He has graciously bestowed on us.

The opera was repeated twenty times, and always with growing applause and a full house. The "Milan News," (January 2, 1771) assures its readers, that the youthful composer "studia il bello della natura e ce lo rappressenta adomo delle più rare grazie musicali." Wolfgang received from the public the appellation of the "Cavaliere Filarmonico," which was confirmed by the Accademia Filarmonica at Verona, who elected him as their kapellmeister on January 5, 1771.

Professional cares 55did not engross all Mozart's time and attention. They became on intimate terms with the young VENICE—PADUA—SALZBURG, 1771. [133] difficult concerto at sight. They had a trip to Turin, saw a splendid opera, and were back in Milan on January 31,56 leaving again shortly for Venice, where they arrived on the Monday in Carnival week. They were hospitably received by a merchant, Wider, a business friend of Hagenauer's.

They enjoyed in all comfort the pleasures of a Venetian carnival, and, having introductions to all the nobility, splendidly appointed gondoliers were always at their service; one invitation followed another, and almost every evening was passed at the opera, or at some other place of amusement. A concert was given by Mozart with brilliant success.

On the return journey, undertaken on March 13, they stayed one day in Padua, visiting the musical celebrities Franc. Ant. Ballotti (1697-1780), one of the first organ-players in Italy, and almost as good a theorist and contrapuntist as Padre Martini himself,57 and the composer and Munich kapellmeister, Giov. Ferrandini58—Tartini had died the year before. Wolfgang played on the excellent organ in Santa Giustina. At Padua, too, he received a commission to write an oratorio to be completed at home as opportunity offered. At Vicenza they remained some days at the request of the Bishop, a Cornero, who had made their acquaintance at Venice; and at Verona they stayed with their old friend Luggiati, who gave a brilliant reception in Wolfgang's honour.

On March 28, 1771, Wolfgang was in Salzburg again, enriched with many experiences and loaded with honours, his talents matured and his tastes improved; but his nature as simple, modest, and childlike as when he had set out. The most direct result of the great success of his opera was a commission from the impresario in Milan for the first opera of the Carnival of 1773, with an increased remuneration of 130 gigliati.

THE ITALIAN TOUR. [134]

At Verona, L. Mozart had already heard rumours of a document on its way from Vienna to Salzburg, which was to bring his son "immortal honour." They had scarcely arrived in Salzburg, when Count Firmian commissioned Wolfgang, in the name of the Empress Maria Theresa, to compose a theatrical serenade or cantata in celebration of the marriage of the Archduke Ferdinand with the Princess Maria Ricciarda Beatrice, daughter of the hereditary Prince Ercole Rainaldo, of Modena. As the marriage was to take place in October of the year 1771, it follows that the stay in Salzburg was not of long duration. During this interval he composed, principally no doubt to satisfy the demands of his official position, a "Litany" (109 K.), and a "Regina Coeli" (108 K.) in May, and a Symphony (110 K.) in July. Leopold Mozart had little hope that even Wolfgang's success in Milan would serve to advance his cause with the Archbishop in case of any more lucrative post becoming vacant. Such considerations did not trouble Wolfgang himself so much as his father; he took advantage of this interval to fall in love for the first time. His letters to his sister are full of hints of a nameless beauty, of unspeakable emotions; and the fact that the young lady married about the same time makes the picture complete of the first love of a boy of sixteen, which had, as might be expected, no lasting effect on his natural good spirits.

On August 13 they left Salzburg, and after a short stay in Verona arrived at Milan on August 21. The marriage was fixed for October 15, but the libretto had not yet been returned from Vienna, where it had been sent on approbation; in those days it was considered that a maestro should be so sure of his art that it should stand him in stead at all times and seasons.59 Wolfgang was under no apprehension on this score; he was delighted with his gracious reception by the royal bride, and enjoyed the delicious fruit, eating a double share of it, as he says, out of brotherly love to his MILAN, 1771—GABRIELLI. [135] sister. When at last the book arrived at the end of August it was detained some days longer by the poet to make the numerous alterations required, and not until the beginning of September was it finally delivered over to Wolfgang. Then he set to work, composing so vigorously that on September 13 the recitatives and choruses were finished, and his father was of opinion that the whole opera with the ballet would be ready in twelve days, which indeed it was; and no wonder that Wolfgang complained that his fingers ached. In the room above that where he wrote was a violinist, in the room below another; a singing master lived next door, and an oboist opposite. "It is capital for composing," says Wolfgang; "it gives one new ideas."

During this visit to Milan they made the acquaintance of the great soprano, Catarina Gabrielli, famed for her intrigues no less than for her musical genius. The impression made by her on Wolfgang may be gathered from a letter to his father written later from Mannheim (February 19, 1778):—

Those who have heard Gabrielli must and will acknowledge that she is a mere executant; her peculiar style of delivery excites admiration, but only for the first three or four times of hearing her. In the long run she is not pleasing; one gets tired of passages, and she has the misfortune of not being able to sing. She cannot sustain a note in tune; she has no messa di voce; in a word, she sings with art, but no understanding.

The intercourse of the Mozarts with their fellow-artists, "really good and famous singers, and sensible people," was cordial, and undisturbed either by intrigues or cabals. Wolfgang's assured position with regard to the public, as well as the favour in which he was held at the imperial court, doubtless contributed to preserve harmony. The tenor Tibaldi and Manzuoli, who was really engaged this time, came almost daily at 11 o'clock, and remained sitting at the table till one; Wolfgang composing all the time.

But the most satisfactory connection was that with Hasse, who was composing an opera on Metastasio's "Ruggiero," for the same festive occasion.60 It was of no small significance THE ITALIAN TOUR. [136] that men like Hasse and Metastasio, who had brought Italian opera to its highest point, and a famous poet, such as Gius. Parini, in Milan,61 should have been content to place themselves on a level with young Mozart. It was momentous in the history of music, this handing over of the sceptre by the man who had ruled the Italian stage throughout his long career to the youth, who was not indeed destined to acquire equal fame living, but to whom posterity was to allot a far more glorious place. Hasse himself is said to have exclaimed: "This boy will throw us all into the shade."62 It was like him to recognise without envy the artistic greatness of Mozart; all young artists63 found him ready to appreciate and help forward their efforts,64 and Mozart himself had been grateful for his support when fighting with the musical cabal in Vienna.65

The festivities66 which had attracted a crowd of strangers to Milan began with the triumphant entry of the Duke, followed by the marriage ceremony in the cathedral; then came a concert and reception at court. On the 16th a public banquet was given to more than four hundred bridal couples, to whom the Empress had given dowries, and in the evening Hasse's opera "Ruggiero" was performed in the newly decorated theatre, with two gorgeous ballets in the entr'actes, "La Corona della gloria," by Pick, and "Pico e Canente," by Favier.

On the 17th, after a splendid procession on the Corso, Wolfgang's serenata "Ascanio in Alba" (111 K.), an allegorical pastoral play in two acts, with choruses and dances, (by Favier) was produced. After the first rehearsal, L. Mozart had been able to predict to his wife that the success of the work was assured. "Because, to begin with, "ASCANIO IN ALBA." [137] not only are Signor Manzuoli and the other vocalists in the highest degree pleased with their songs, but they are as anxious as ourselves to hear the serenata with the full orchestra; secondly, because I know what he has written, and the effect it will have, and am quite convinced that it is excellent, both for the singers and the orchestra." He had not deceived himself, the applause was extraordinary; the serenata was repeated the next day, and until the close of the festivities was more frequently given than "Ruggiero." "I am sorry," writes L. Mozart, "that Wolfgang's serenata should have so entirely eclipsed Hasse's opera."

He refers his home circle to the judgment of a young Salzburg merchant, Kerschbaumer, "who, on the 24th, was a witness how the Archduke and Archduchess not only applauded two of the songs until they were repeated, but leaning from their box, both during and after the performance, they bowed towards Wolfgang, and testified their approval by cries of

'Bravissimo! maestro,' and clapping of hands, an example followed by all present." This time, too, Wolfgang received more substantial marks of favour; besides the stipulated fee, the Empress presented him with a gold watch set with diamonds, having on its back an admirably executed miniature of herself in enamel.67

Among the festivities, which lasted until the end of the month, were a splendidly appointed masked procession of facchini, in the costume of the surrounding peasantry, on the 19th; races for horses (barberi) on che 27th, for chariots (calessetti) on the 28th, and the cuccagna on the 24th, when masses of viands were given up to the plunder of the people, and fountains of wine were opened.68 On this occasion the Mozarts narrowly escaped a great danger. One of the great scaffoldings erected for spectators fell, and more than fifty persons were killed or injured. It was only an accidental delay which had prevented Wolfgang and his father from taking the seats which had been allotted them on this THE ITALIAN TOUR. [138] erection, and had caused them to seat themselves in the court gallery.

After the close of the opera, Mozart wrote a symphony (112 K.) and a divertimento (113 K.), probably for a concert, but at all events to order. During this stay in Milan a contract was entered into with the theatre of S. Benedetto in Venice, by which Wolfgang was commissioned to write the second opera of the Carnival of 1773. How this was possible, since the contract stipulates for residence in Venice at the same time as it had been already promised in Milan, it is not easy to see, unless some indulgence on the part of the Venetian impresario was looked for, perhaps even promised.69 The contract, however, was never fulfilled; Nau-mann became Mozart's substitute, arriving in Vienna just in time to undertake the opera. He produced his "Soliman" with very remarkable success.70

The return of the Mozarts to Salzburg was delayed until the middle of December, on the 30th of which month Wolfgang composed a symphony (114 K,), and was soon after seized with severe illness.71

Their arrival at home coincided with the death of Archbishop Sigismund, which took place after a lingering illness on December 16,1771. His successor was elected on March 14, 1772, in the person of Hieronymus Joseph Franz v. Paula, Count of Colloredo, Bishop of Gurk; to the universal surprise and grief of the populace, who had little prosperity to hope for under his rule.72 An opera was required to form "IL SOGNO DI SCIPIONE"—SALZBURG, 1772. [139] part of the festivities accompanying his installation, and this Wolfgang was commissioned to compose.73 The subject chosen was "Il Sogno di Scipione" (126 K.), an allegorical azione teatrale, by Metastasio, which had been performed with music by Predieri on the birthday of the Empress Elizabeth, October 1, 1735. It was written with reference to the unfortunate military events in Italy, and stress was laid on the bravery and steadfastness of a great general, even in defeat. How far this subject was applicable to the circumstances of Bishop Hieronymus does not seem to have been inquired; even the words of the Licenza were left unaltered, except that the name of Girolamo was substituted for Carlo. It is amusing to note that Mozart composing from his Metastasio, writes the words under his score: "Ma Scipio esalta il labbro e Carlo il cuore," then effaces the name and writes Girolamo.

We do not know how far indifference towards the person of the new Archbishop is responsible for the fact that this opera betrays more of the character of an occasional piece written to order than any other composition by Mozart. It was probably produced in the beginning of May, 1772.74

The remaining compositions which fall authentically within this period are a symphony (124 K.), composed on February 21, and a litany, "De Venerabile" a very important work (125 K.), in March. January was lost by illness, and in April, Mozart was busy with his opera; but in May, a "Regina Coeli" (127 K.) and no fewer than three symphonies (128-130 K.) were ready; in June, a great divertimento (131 K); in July and August three more symphonies (132-135 K.); three quartets, or divertimenti (136-138 K.), fall also within the year 1772. These clearly identified compositions can scarcely be all that belong to this period. If the fact surprises us that Mozart, instead of THE ITALIAN TOUR. [140] making studies for the new opera which he was to produce in the autumn, employed this interval almost entirely on church and instrumental music, we must look for an explanation of it in his position at Salzburg, from which we cannot doubt that he felt an intense longing to free himself.

A correspondent of Burney who was at Salzburg in the summer of 1772 informs him that he has visited Mozart the father, and heard Wolfgang and his sister play duets together; Wolfgang, he says, is undoubtedly a master of his instrument, but he appears to have reached his climax, and, judging from his orchestral music, he affords another proof that premature fruits are more rare than excellent.75 It would be unreasonable to take this false prophecy amiss, for it no doubt reflects something of the state of opinion in Salzburg at the time.

On October 24 they set forth once more on the journey to Milan, in order to be there in good time for the new opera. On the way, "to make time pass," Wolfgang composed a pianoforte duet; his fête-day was merrily kept with the brothers Piccini, in Ala (October 31); and after the usual stay with Luggiati in Verona, they arrived at Milan on November 4. L. Mozart, who had lately been very well, appeared to profit by the change and irregularity of a travelling life, but at Milan the old complaint reappeared. Giddiness and numbness in the head, attributable to a bad fall, seized him more especially when he had been composing, and he could not free himself from "Salzburg thoughts," in which he would be unconsciously plunged for some time, and only with an effort banish them from his mind "like the wicked thoughts with which the devil used to tempt him in his youth." They were no doubt the reflection of his almost unendurable relations with the new Archbishop. He foresaw a troubled future, unless he could succeed in extricating Wolfgang from his undefined position in Salzburg, and placing him on a secure footing; and to this end he bent all his endeavours.

The opera which Wolfgang was to compose was "Lucio "LUCIO SILLA"—MILAN, 1772. [141] Silla," the words by Giovanni da Camera, a poet of Milan. This time Wolfgang brought part of the recitative with him, but he did not gain by so doing; for the poet had in the meantime submitted his text to Metastasio, who made many alterations, and added a new scene.

He had plenty of time, however, to rewrite the recitatives and to compose the choruses and the overtures, for of the singers only Signora Félicita Suarti (who sang in Parma in 1769, and now took the part of secondo uomo), and the ultimo tenore had appeared. They found Milan very empty, every one still in the country; only the D'Aste family received them into the same intimacy as before.

Next arrived the primo uomo Venanzio Rauzzini (b. 1752), an excellent singer, an accomplished pianist, and a not inconsiderable composer. He had been in Munich since 1776, when Burney made his acquaintance, and learned that he was to sing in Mozart's opera.76 His first song was soon ready; L. Mozart thought it incomparably beautiful, and that Rauzzini sang it "like an angel."77 At last the prima donna De Amicis arrived, after a tedious journey from Venice. It was time, for the representation was fixed for the 26th December, and there were still fourteen pieces to be composed, among them the terzet and the duet, "which might be reckoned as four."

"I cannot possibly write you a long letter," wrote Wolfgang on the 5th December, "for I have nothing to say, and do not know what I am writing; my thoughts are always in my opera, and I am in danger of writing you a whole song instead of words."

Maria Anna de Amicis (born about 1740), a pupil of Tesi, had been brought from the opera buffa as prima donna to the opera seria by Chr. Bach in London (1762). She had been married five years to Buonsolazzi, an official in Naples, THE ITALIAN TOUR. [142] and she brought her little daughter Sepperl with her to Milan.78 Although the Mozarts had made her acquaintance during their Parisian tour, she was at first a little inclined to create difficulties; but the most friendly relations were soon established between them.

When she had mastered her three songs she was "in high delight, because Wolfgang had suited her so wonderfully well." He had furnished the principal song with some new and marvellously difficult passages.79 L. Mozart wrote after the rehearsals, that she both sang and acted like an angel, and all Salzburg would be amazed to hear her.

There was still wanting the tenor Cardoni, and news at length arrived that he was so seriously ill he could not appear. Suitable messengers were at once despatched to Turin and Bologna, to seek for another good tenor, who was to be not only a good singer, "but especially a good actor, and a person of presence, to represent Lucio Silla with proper dignity." But such an one was not to be procured, and there was nothing for it at last but to take a church singer from Lodi, Bassano Morgnoni, who had occasionally sung in the theatre there, but never on a larger stage. He arrived on December 17, when the rehearsals were going on, and the following day Wolfgang wrote two of the four songs allotted to him. On December 21, 22, and 23 there were large parties of the nobility at Count Firmian's, at which vocal and instrumental music was performed from five o'clock in the evening until eleven. Wolfgang played each time, and was favourably noticed by all the great people.

The grand rehearsal passed off well; and the first representation on December 26, in spite of some drawbacks, was a great success. The opera began, according to custom, an hour after Ave Maria, and at half-past five the theatre was PERFORMANCE OF "LUCIO SILLA." [143] quite full. Just before Ave Maria the Archduke had risen from table, and retired to despatch five autograph congratulations on the New Year to Vienna; as might be expected, this took some time. The performers, male and female, in all the agitation of a first performance, and the hot impatient public were obliged to wait the arrival of the court until past eight o'clock. Unhappily the Lodi tenor had to express his anger by gestures during the prima donna's first song; in his efforts to surpass himself he gesticulated so wildly, "that he appeared to wish to box her ears, or hit her in the face with his clenched fist." Thereupon a laugh broke out; this confused De Amicis, who did not know for whom it was intended, and she sang ill the whole evening, especially after Rauzzini had been received on his first entry with applause from the Archduchess. Rauzzini had contrived to inform the Archduchess that he should be nervous at singing before her, and so had assured himself of the applause of the court. De Amicis was consoled by an invitation to court the next day, and then the opera went altogether well.

It was given more than twenty times to houses so full "that one could scarcely squeeze in." Each time some of the songs were encored, generally the prima donna's, which had "the upper hand."80

Wolfgang wrote a motett, "Exultate," for Rauzzini, (165 K.), which was performed before the actors on January, 1773. It is on the plan of a great dramatic scene, and maintains that style throughout. To a long and elaborate allegro succeeds a short recitative leading to a long, simple slow movement. The finale is an animated "Alleluia," cheerful and brilliant. Later (February 6) his father says he is busy with a quartet.

L. Mozart continually postponed their departure, at first with the expectation of seeing the second opera, which was much later than usual, owing to the many representations of "Lucio Silla," and afterwards under the pretext of an attack [144] of rheumatism, which confined him to bed. In point of fact he had, with the powerful support of Count Firmian, proferred a request to the Grand Duke Leopold at Florence that the latter would attach Wolfgang to his court. The Grand Duke at first showed gracious dispositions, and L. Mozart must have wished to continue the negotiations from Milan. Even after their ultimate failure he thought he might count on powerful recommendations from Florence, and his thoughts turned again on a great professional tour. "Only be economical," he wrote, "for we must have money if we are to undertake a tour; I grudge every penny spent in Salzburg."

Towards the close of their stay a colleague from the Salzburg chapel, the horn-player Leutgeb, came to Milan, and was well received there.

At the beginning of March they really set out; for they might not be absent from their places on the anniversary of the Archbishop's election (March 14).

The remarkable success of the opera, and the lively interest excited by Wolfgang's person, leaves scarcely any doubt that further overtures were made to him in Italy; their non-acceptance must have been owing to the Archbishop's refusal of an extended leave of absence.

[144]

AT Salzburg during May, 1773, Wolfgang composed a symphony (181 K.), a concertone for two violins (190 K.), and a mass (167 K.) in June.

In the summer of this year the Archbishop repaired to Vienna, and Leopold Mozart seized the opportunity of following him thither with Wolfgang. He looked forward only to a short absence, but when they presented themselves before the Archbishop in Vienna he gave them permission to extend their stay, as he intended himself to go into the mountains and to Gmünd.

Of the precise object of this tour we know nothing, only that L. Mozart hints mysteriously that he cannot tell his VISIT TO VIENNA, 1773 [145] plans to every one, and that he must avoid anything that would excite attention either at Vienna or Salzburg, and cause obstacles to be thrown in their way. When the good people of Salzburg connected the illness of the kapellmeister Gassmann with his journey, he answered indignantly: "Herr Gassmann was ill, but is now better. I do not know what connection this may have with our journey to Vienna; but fools will be fools, all the world over."1 There can be no doubt, however, that he was anxious that Wolfgang should be permanently attached to the court, either at Vienna or elsewhere. The Empress, of whom they immediately sought an audience, was very gracious, but that was all. The Emperor only returned from Poland towards the end of their stay, and they do not appear to have spoken to him at all.

They arrived on the 18th of July, and went straight to their old lodgings, where they surprised old Frau Fischer at supper; she was delighted to see them, and to provide them once more with comfortable apartments. Many old friendships were renewed: L'Augier, Martinez, Novarre, honest old Bono, Stephanie and his lovely wife, Dr. Auerbrugger and his two daughters, Franziska and Mariane, "who played charmingly and were thorough musicians,"2 all welcomed the Mozarts eagerly; Wolfgang had grown so as never to be recognised unless his father were with him.

But their warmest welcome was from the Messmers, who only regretted that they had come without Frau Mozart and Marianne. Since the Mozarts' last visit, they had decorated their garden with statues, &c., and had built a theatre, an aviary, a dovecot, a summer-house looking over the Prater, and they were now turning their house into a comfortable winter residence. The whole family were together, including Fräulein Franzl, who was seriously ill, and Fräulein Sepperl, an inveterate match-maker, interesting herself in the love affairs even of the cook and the footman. Here they met their old friends Heufeld, Greiner, Steigentesch, WORKS IN GERMANY. [146] Grill, Bono, &c.; and music was the invariable theme of conversation. Messmer had learned to play the harmonica from Miss Davis, and had an instrument made at a cost of 50 ducats, which was finer than that used by Miss Davis. He played it very well, and so did his little son, who showed considerable talent; Wolfgang tried the harmonica, and "wished he had one too." The Messmers soon after went farther into the country to Rothmühl, which interrupted this pleasant intercourse.

The great public event of the day during their stay in Vienna was the suppression of the order of Jesuits. L. Mozart, who followed their expulsion with great interest, thought that many good Christians would consider the Pope had only jurisdiction in matters of faith, and that the Jesuits would probably have been left unmolested if they had been as poor as the Capucines. In Rome the property of the Jesuits had been seized ad pias causas, which was easily done, since all that the Pope appropriated was ad pias causas; the Emperor thought differently, and had reserved to himself the right of dispensing the property of the Jesuits. Mozart thinks, too, that the millions taken from the Jesuits will awaken the appetite for more of such confiscations.3

Wolfgang had taken some work with him. A grand serenata for some fête in the family of their friend Andretter was sent from Vienna and performed at Salzburg in the beginning of August under Meissner's conductorship (145 K.). Then he set to work to write six quartets (168-173 K.), whether by order or not is uncertain; nothing more important, however, came to hand. The Jesuits performed the P. Dominicus Mass (66 K.) at court during the Octave of S. Ignatius' day; L. Mozart conducted, and the applause was great. The Theatin monks invited them to their service and banquet on the feast of S. Cajetan, and, the organ not being available, Wolfgang had the boldness to execute a concerto on a violin borrowed from his young friend Teyber. This made such an impression that in 1782 a lay brother, to whom Wolfgang COMPOSITIONS IN SALZBURG, 1773-74. [147] remarked that he had eight years before played a violin concerto in the choir, at once addressed him by his name. Of money receipts during this visit to Vienna we hear little or nothing; on the contrary, L. Mozart writes to his wife that his body grows fat in proportion as his purse grows thin; and he consoles her for the fact that he has had to borrow money by declaring that it only proves his having need of money, but not of a doctor. Notwithstanding, he considered he had good reasons for remaining in Vienna. "Things must and will mend; take courage, God will help us!"

With the end of September they were again in Salzburg, and in December Wolfgang wrote a quintet for stringed instruments (174 K.) and a pianoforte Concerto in D major (175 K.), the first of the long list after his early attempts. Almost the whole of the year 1774 was passed quietly at home; Wolfgang wrote some important church music, two Masses in F and D major (192,194, K.), a great litany (195 K.), two psalms for a Vesper (193 K.), various symphonies (199-202 K.), two complete serenatas (203, 204, K.), and an interesting divertimento (205 K.). Then came a commission from Munich to write a comic opera for the Carnival of 1775. It is probable that the influence of the Prince Bishop of Chiemsee, Count Ferdinand von Zeil, an enthusiastic patron of Mozart, had been exerted on his behalf. The Elector Maximilian III. had also shown great interest in Mozart in former years, and on this account it was impossible for the Archbishop of Salzburg to refuse Wolfgang leave of absence. The Elector had a decided talent for music, which he had cultivated by study; he composed church music, and played the bass-viol, as Naumaun wrote to a friend, "divinely"; Burney declared he had heard no such bass-viol-player since the celebrated Abel. The Elector's sister also, the widowed Electress of Saxony Maria Antonia Walburga, known as a poetess, was then on a visit to Munich; she both composed and sang operas for which she had written the verses.4 It followed, therefore, WORKS IN GERMANY. [148] that much was done in Munich for orchestra and singers both in the opera and the churches, although the performances fell short of those in Mannheim.5

On December 6 Wolfgang set out with his father for Munich, where they found a small but comfortable lodging with a Chanoine et grand custos de Notre Dame; this good man showed them honour and hospitality above their deserts, as they considered, and often sacrificed his own convenience to theirs from sheer friendliness. The intense cold of the journey had, in spite of precautions, brought on Wolfgang's habitual malady, severe toothache, and he was confined to his room with a swelled face for several days. As soon as possible they made the acquaintance of those with whom they were to be associated, and were well received everywhere.

The opera "La Finta Giardiniera" is very rich in airs, and Mozart, finding a wealth of resources in Munich ready to hand, went to work more seriously, both with the voices and the orchestra, than was customary with an opera buffa. It is impossible to ascertain how much of the opera he brought with him, or how much was altered or composed in Munich. The first rehearsal did not take place till near the end of December, and the performance was consequently postponed to January 5, 1775, so that the singers might be more sure of their parts than could have been the case had they played, as intended, on December 29.

"You must know," writes L. Mozart, "that the maestro Tozi, who is this year writing the opera seria ('Orfeo ed Euridice'), wrote last year at this time an opera buffa, and exerted himself to the utmost in order that it might surpass the opera seria of Sales (of Trier): he succeeded in quite eclipsing Maestro Sales' opera.6 Now it so turns out that Wolfgang's opera is ready just before Tozi's, and all those who heard the first rehearsal are saying that Tozi is paid back in his own coin, since Wolfgang's opera will "LA FINTA GIARDINIERA"—MUNICH, 1775. [149] throw his quite into the shade.7 I do not like this sort of thing, and have tried all I can to put an end to the gossip; but the whole orchestra, and all who heard the rehearsal, declare that they never heard more beautiful music; all the songs are beautiful." The performance on January 13,1775, was a brilliant success; the court and the public overwhelmed the composer with applause and honours, as he himself informs his mother.

The Secretary of Legation, Unger, notes in his journal (January 15, 1775): "Vendredi L.A.R.E., assistèrent à la première représentation de Vopera buffa, 'La Finta Giardiniera'; la musique fut applaudie généralement; elle est du jeune Mozart de Saltzbourg qui se trouve actuellement ici. C'est le même qui à l'äge de huit ans a été en Angleterre et ailleurs pour se faire entendre sur le clavecin, qu'il touche supérieurement bien."8 And Schubart writes in the "Teutsche Chronik" (1775, p. 267): "I also heard an opera buffa by the wonderful genius Mozart; it is called "La Finta Giardiniera." Sparks of genius flash out here and there, but it is not yet the calm flame from the altar, rising to heaven in clouds of incense—a perfume meet for the gods. If Mozart does not turn out to be a hothouse-reared plant, he will undoubtedly be one of the greatest composers that has ever lived."

It was said of the performers that Rossi and Rosa Manservisi were specially suited for opera buffa. Rossi was as good as his brother in Stuttgart in merry, waggish parts; Manservisi was above the average of singers in voice, execution, and personal appearance.9

This time Wolfgang's sister enjoyed the pleasure of witnessing his triumph. During her visit to Munich she was placed under the care of a certain Frau v. Durst, a sensible well-educated widow, who provided Marianne with a room to herself and a piano, on which her father took care she should practise diligently. Other Salzburg friends arrived for the WORKS IN GERMANY. [150] Carnival, Eberlin Waberl, Fräulein v. Schiedenhofen, And-retter, and young Molk, who went into such raptures over the opera seria, it was plain that he had heard nothing outside Salzburg and Inspruck.

Another involuntary witness of Mozart's triumph was the Archbishop of Salzburg. He had occasion to pay a visit to the Elector of Bavaria in January, 1775,10 and though he arrived in Munich after the representation of the opera, and had left before its repetition, he was forced, as L. Mozart remarks with satisfaction, to listen to the eulogies pronounced by the electoral suite and all the nobility, and to receive the congratulations which were poured on him. He was so taken aback that he could only answer by shaking his head and shrugging his shoulders. It was little likely that such a scene should have raised Mozart in the favour of a man like Hieronymus.

The repetition of the opera, which could only be given on Fridays, brought difficulties, inasmuch as the seconda donna, who was wretched even at her best, fell seriously ill, and the opera had to be considerably curtailed, in order to dispense with her. It took place on Wolfgang's birthday, and he thought it indispensable that he should be present at the performance, as otherwise his opera might not be recognised. The orchestra was in great confusion, since it was shamefully neglected by the director Tozi, who was at that time enacting the romance in real life with the Countess Törring-Seefeld, of which L. Mozart writes to his wife:—

Signor Tozi has gone. He had an old-standing love intrigue with the Countess v. Seefeld, in which her brother, Count Sedlizky, was implicated, as well as a certain tenor, Signor Guerrieri. The Countess left Munich six weeks ago on pretence of visiting her estates, but she has quite deserted her husband and children, and carried off money and jewels. The complicity of her brother and the two Italians was discovered by a letter; Count Sedlizky was placed under arrest, Guerrieri thrown into prison, and Tozi took refuge with the Theatin monks. The Elector sent him an assurance that he should not be imprisoned if he would submit to an examination. He issued from his hiding-place, but MUNICH, 1775. [151] immediately took flight to Italy. Count Sedlizky confessed everything; Guerrieri denied everything, but to little avail, since the jewels were found in Guerrieri's lodgings, sewed up in an old cushion. It is suspected that the Countess is in Holland; there she sits forlorn, since her projected escort has not joined her.

L. Mozart writes to his wife to tell this story, "just to show people that Italians are rascals all the world over."11

The opera did not put a stop to Wolfgang's church music. His Grand Litany (125 K.) in B major was performed at the court chapel on New Year's day, as well as one of his father's; and later on two small Masses, no doubt those in F and D major (192, 194 K.). A few days before their departure, as Wolfgang writes to Padre Martini, the Elector expressed a wish to hear an offertory, contrapuntally worked out, which was to be composed, copied, and practised before the following Sunday. It was the "Misericordias Domini," to which Padre Martini accorded great praise.12 As a matter of course, Wolfgang made his mark also as a clavier-player; with this object he had taken his concerto with him, and his sister was to bring some of his sonatas and variations. Schubart writes in his "Teutsche Chronik" (1776, p. 267): "Only think, my friends, what a treat! Last winter, in Munich, I heard two of the greatest clavier-players, Herr Mozart and Herr v. Beecke. My host, Herr Albert, who is enthusiastic for all that is great and beautiful, has an excellent pianoforte in his house. So these two giants strove together. Mozart can play any difficulties, and whatever is laid before him at sight. But nevertheless, Beecke far surpasses him—winged speed, grace, melting sweetness, and a marvellous amount of taste, are weapons which none can wrest from the grasp of this Hercules."

The great and universal applause bestowed on Wolfgang inspired his father with the hope that he would be intrusted WORKS IN GERMANY. [152] with the opera seria for the next year; why this was not the case we are not aware. The rumour current in Salzburg that Wolfgang was about to enter the Elector's service, L. Mozart ascribes to his enemies, and to those whose consciences told them what good cause he had for taking such a step; he was used to such childish folly, and did not allow it to trouble him in the least. Nevertheless, there is no doubt that nothing would have pleased him more; but, as a prudent man, he did not wish to cut himself adrift from Salzburg before having secured a safe anchorage at Munich.

After enjoying to their close the pleasures of the Carnival, which lasted too long for the father, they returned to Salzburg on March 7,1775. In April the Archbishop of Salzburg was honoured by a visit from the Archduke Maximilian, youngest son of Maria Theresa (b. 1749), afterwards Archbishop of Cologne; he had been spending the Carnival in Paris, where his want of tact had placed the Queen in considerable embarrassment,13 and had also paid a short visit to Munich. Court festivities were arranged, chiefly consisting of musical performances, for which the singer Consuoli and Becke, the flautist, were summoned from Munich. A serenata by Fischietti was performed on April 22, and on the following day Mozart's "Re Pastore," which had been very hurriedly composed. On April 24, according to the report of one of the Archduke's suite, "Music was the entertainment provided, as on the preceding days; at the conclusion of the performance, young Mozart placed himself at the piano and played various pieces from his head, with equal skill and grace." Whether he appeared as a violinist we do not know; he had, at any rate, composed his first violin concerto on April 14 (207 K.), and the fact that this was followed by four others in the same year (211, 216, 218, 219, K.) is a proof that he was applying himself energetically to the violin; possibly because it would be easier to find a good situation if he were an accomplished violin-player.

The next two years passed quietly and busily at Salzburg. Extracts from a diary kept by young Schiedenhofen show how CHURCH MUSIC—"HAFFNER-MUSIK," 1776. [153] limited their circle of friendly intercourse was, and Wolfgang's authentically dated compositions afford proofs of his activity and progress.

The year 1776 was especially rich in church music; four masses (257, 258, 259,261, K.) fall in this year, three of them in its last quarter, while in March a Grand Litany in E flat major (243 K.) was written, besides an Offertory, "Venite populi," for two choirs (260 K.). To 1777 belong a Mass (275 K.), and a Graduale, "Sancta Maria" (273 K.). A series of organ sonatas were furnished for the services of the church, and for the court a number of divertimenti for wind instruments, probably as table music. In other respects, doubtless in consequence of the ill-will of the Archbishop, Wolfgang appears to have held aloof from the court concerts; no symphonies belong to this time. The serenatas were written for other occasions. On wedding-days, fête-days, or the like, these nocturnal pieces were usually performed in the street, not excepting the solos;14 they were introduced by a march, in which any of the company who could handle a bow might take part; the rest listened from the windows above. Such music was either ordered and paid for, or offered as a tribute of esteem.

On the wedding-day of the Salzburg citizen F. X. Spath with Elise Haffher, daughter of the worthy merchant and Bürgermeister Sigmund Haffner15 (July 22,1776), a serenata by Mozart was performed, afterwards known as the "Haffner-musik" (249, 250, K.). Another opportunity offered in the fête-day of the Countess Antonia Lodron, for whom in 1776 and 1777 Wolfgang wrote several specified nocturnes;16 Schiedenhofen was present at the rehearsal of one of them, and he tells us also that on July 25, 1777, there was a [154] rehearsal of a serenata at the house of the grocer Gusetti, composed by Wolfgang for his sister's fête-day; it consisted of a symphony, a violin concerto played by himself, and a flute concerto played by Cosel. Probably the divertimento composed in July, 1776 (251 K.) was also intended for his sister's fête-day. A Finalmusik (185, 215, K.) produced on August 23, 1775, and a "Serenata Nottuma" (239 K.) in January, 1776, are both for unknown occasions.

The clavier compositions were also mainly written for pupils or amateurs; for example, the Concerto in C major (246 K.) for the Countess Litzow or Lützow, wife of the Commandant of Hohen-Salzburg; that in E flat major (271 K.) for a Madame Jenomy (January, 1777), whom Wolfgang had met in Paris; the Concerto for three pianofortes for the Countesses Antonie, Luise, and Josepha Lodron (242 K.), February, 1776. While the Mozarts were at Munich, in 1775, a landed proprietor, Buron Dümitz, had ordered some pianoforte sonatas, which were duly forwarded (279-284 K.); but he altogether forgot to send the promised payment in return. Two four-hand sonatas, mentioned by his father (December 8, 1777), were probably intended for Wolfgang and his sister; Schiedenhofen heard them play a duet on August 15, 1777.

Having taken this biograpical survey, it is now time to bestow a closer inspection on Wolfgang's compositions.

[154]

THE OPERA1 owes its rise to the attempt which was made in Florence at the beginning of the sixteenth century to discover the musical method of ancient tragedy and to reproduce it in conformity to the spirit of the Renaissance.2 GRADUAL RISE OF OPERA. [155] In opposition to the predominant madrigal style of part-singing, worked out in counterpoint, there arose strivings after a method which should give freedom and independence to the solo singer, and which should render the poet's words comprehensible and sympathetic to the hearer. The conviction that this was accomplished to perfection in ancient tragedy led to a search after lost musical traditions, traces of which are observable in the opera seria, even in its latest development. First, recitative was introduced as a middle course between song and ordinary speech, distinguished by accent and rhythm, and sustained by a simple harmony, which emphasised the dialogue. Time and effort were needed to establish this compromise between song and speech, and to convert recitative into the pliable, expressive instrument of musical dialogue.

The first attempt to place an opera in this stilo rappresentativo on the stage was made by Jac. Peri with Ottavio Rinuccini's "Dafne," performed in 1594 at the Palazzo Corsi;3 the same poet's "Euridice" followed in 1600, publicly performed on the occasion of the marriage of Henry IV. with Marie de Medicis. The whole dialogue is rendered in a simply accompanied recitative, without the introduction of anything resembling an air; to this are added choruses, after the example of the old tragedies, not worked out in contrapuntal form like madrigals, as was already the custom with the intermedii of spoken tragedies, but in simple harmonies, and in a key corresponding to the recitatives.

A similar experiment was made in Rome in 1600 by Emilio de' Cavalieri with his oratorio "Dell' Anima e del Corpo," and in Florence the same year by Giulio Caccini with another, "Euridice," which displayed the art of the singers by its numerous embellishments and passages.

Musical language, however, could only attain its full effect when the more elevated sentiments received their due expression in an air, independent in character and OPERA SERIA. [156] perfect in form. The development of solo singing released from its contrapuntal bondage, and made expressive by melody, was largely due to Caccini. The merit of connecting the air with the recitative in opera—for which a precedent was found in the monody of ancient tragedy—belongs to Claudio Monteverde, who also made use of the whole available instrumental wealth of the time. His operas of "Orfeo," composed in Mantua (1607), and "Arianna" (1608) were followed in Venice, where he was appointed kapellmeister (1613), by "Proserpina rapita" (1630), "Adone" (1639), &c. Here, then, were the elements of the opera seria. To follow its continuous development step by step would require such a searching study of details as has not yet been undertaken. The majority of existing accounts are made apparently at random, and without any idea of connection or dependence. A sketch of the leading points in the progress of this development will suffice for our purpose.4

Ancient tragedy being taken as a model, it followed that the stories of ancient mythology or history (they were always considered on the same level) were almost exclusively chosen, although treated for the most part in a widely different spirit.

Opera soon formed an important feature in court festivals, and it became customary to give the text a reference to the festival or person honoured by turning it into an allegory, in which poetical fancy vied with personal flattery.5 In imitation of ancient tragedy mimic dances were connected with the singing, but the union of the arts tended more to sensual enjoyment than to poetical effect. The naïve freedom with which the ancient myths were handled gave ample license for gaudy costumes, scenery, and decorations, and the same taste was carried into the fantastic outcome of these festival representations known as the German magic opera.

The courts of Italy and France vied with each other in DEVELOPMENT OF OPERA—SCARLATTI. [157] the costly splendour lavished on the opera by scene-painters, decorators, and costumiers; and Vienna, Munich, Dresden, and Stuttgart were not slow to follow their example. The elegantly printed books of the words, adorned with careful copper-plate engravings, which were distributed for these performances, give some idea of the style in which they were put on the stage, and of the dazzle and glitter in the midst of which the music became a very secondary consideration.

Such operas as we have described could, on account of the expense, only be given at royal courts on special occasions; but the general public soon began to demand a share in the entertainment and a regular repetition of it. It became the established custom to make the opera the main festivity of the Carnival, and although generous patrons were not wanting, prepared to support the managers (impresarii), yet the latter, who naturally wished to make a profit by the opera, generally found it necessary to reduce the cost of the representations. The libretti, which sought to excite interest by showy scenery, and a mixture of pathetic and burlesque situations, without the least regard to consistency or psychological accuracy, were far from satisfactory to any cultivated taste. But the cultivation of the art of song exercised the highest of all influences on operatic music. It had reached a height from which it was able to govern the musical public, and to render the pleasure of the eye subservient to that of the ear. In proportion as the vocal art asserted its superiority, it exacted a simplification of all other means of attraction, and the universal striving after regularity was materially assisted by the necessity for clear and decided forms in vocal music.

This transformation of the opera, which took its final form from poet and composer under the quickening influence of great singers, is commonly ascribed to Alessandro Scarlatti (1659-1725). He was the disciple, although perhaps not the pupil, of the Roman kapellmeister, Giacomo Carissimi (who was nearly ninety in 1672), who did such good service to the development of recitative and dramatic solo singing, that he may be considered the founder of modern song.

Scarlatti, excellent alike from his thorough musical OPERA SERIA. [158] knowledge, and from the wealth and grace of his invention, displayed astonishing fertility in the different departments of musical art. In the year 1715, according to his own account, he had composed 106 operas.6 At Naples, where he passed the greater part of his life, he founded the school from which (more especially under his successor Francesco Durante, 1693-1755) a long list of composers issued, who for the most part wrote admirable church music, but whose chief mission it was to maintain throughout the last century an uninterrupted succession of operatic music. If we glance down the long list of the more famous—Nic. Porpora (1685 or 1687-1767), Dom. Sarri (1688-1732), Leon. Vinci (1690-1734), Franc. Feo (1694-1740), Leon. Leo (1694-1756?), Ad. Hasse (1699-1783), Terradeglias (17...-1754), Nic. Logroscino (17...-1763), Pergolese (1707-1739), Pasq. Cafaro (1708-1787), Duni (1709-1775), Dav. Perez (1711-1778), Nic. Jomelli (1714-1774), Rinaldo da Capua (b. 1715), Tom. Traetta (1727-1779), Guglielmi (1727-1804), Nic. Piccinni (1728-1800), Sacchini (1735-1786), Pasq. Anfossi (1736-1797), Giac. Paisiello (1741-1816), Franc, de Majo (1745-1774), Dom. Cimarosa (1754-1801)—we shall be astonished to find that of the numerous members of the Neapolitan school only four were born out of the kingdom of Naples,7 viz., Hasse, Terradeglias, Pergolese, and Guglielmi. The rest of Italy was quite unable to compete with this wealth.

Venice, however, took an important place in the development of Italian opera, both by the splendour of the performances given in the theatre, which was erected in 1637,8 and by excellent institutions for musical education. The fame of the Venetian school was upheld by many celebrated composers, among them Carlo Pallavicini (16...-1688), Agost. Steffani (1655-1730). Franc. Gasparini (1665-1737), Ant. Lotti ITALIAN INFLUENCES ON OPERA. [159] (1667-1740), Giov. Porta (16...-1740), Ant. Caldara (1678-1763), Buranello (1703-1785), Ferd. Bertoni (1725-1813).

Bologna too had its share in the history of the opera, maintaining a firm tradition of careful performances,9 and excellent schools for singing and composition; Giov. Buonon-cini (1672-1752) and Gius. Sarti (1729-1802) were trained here.

Rome was looked upon as the city where the keenest enthusiasm either of applause or adverse criticism was to be expected, consequently where artistic reputations were most often made or destroyed;10 but Rome was neither the birthplace nor the seminary of any famous operatic masters.

It is not necessary here to inquire into the details of the part taken by Scarlatti in the erection of Italian opera as it now exists. His operas are truly epitomes of the history of musical development, and his many imitators and successors pass before us like the shadows of the Homeric shades; but we have only to do with him or with them in so far as concerns the main features of that form of operatic composition which Mozart found ready to hand.11

The stability with which operatic development kept close to the path which had at first been marked out was due partly to circumstances and the influence of public opinion, partly to the character of the Italian people. Beauty, appealing immediately and directly to their lightly kindled imaginations, required that its sensual charm should be clearly and unreservedly expressed; and for this they were willing to sacrifice novelty and characterisation. Again, the art of music was developed in accordance with natural laws; and having once acquired forms indicative of its essential elements, it grasped these firmly, and refused to abandon them until they had become completely obsolete. It was the task of the great masters of the eighteenth century to OPERA SERIA. [160] maintain this course of steady imperceptible progress, and, by raising to successive stages each hardly won step towards perfection, to establish in the end a new and more admirable whole.

The chief component parts of the opera were the recitative and the song, or aria.12 Recitative, intended for the rendering of conversation, approaches in rhythm and intervals as near as possible to ordinary speech, and leaves the singer ample scope for an animated and expressive delivery. This is assisted by a simple harmonious accompaniment, the basses giving the fundamental, the clavier the harmony. The simplicity of the musical treatment lends itself to characteristic declamation, and impressive situations are thrown into relief generally by sudden changes of harmony; numerous instances show the importance that was attached to this mode of delivery. But very soon it became the fashion to treat this recitativo secco as subordinate, and the composer strove to do away with it as far as possible. Certain turns, certain harmonic progressions and interrupted cadences, were as indispensable to recitative as many turns of speech are to social intercourse. As the course and development of the action of the piece depend almost entirely on the recitative, it follows that any neglect of the latter must affect one of the most important elements of the opera. The need for attaining the power of expressing a momentary passion or inspiration which would not admit of an elaborate representation led to the introduction of the so-called accompanied (obligate) recitative. For this the orchestra (at first only the whole body of stringed instruments) was made use of, and accompanied the alternations of emotion with corresponding musical phrases or interludes. Recitative, without abandoning its distinctive characteristics, became more strongly accentuated, and in process of time passed over into song. Such vocal melodies as seemed thus to be called forth by the emotions of the situations were called cavata or cavatina. At first they were RECITATIVE—THE ARIA. [161] considered as an ingredient or embellishment of the recitative, but later on they were treated independently. Arioso in the recitative indicates an interpolated passage of vocal melody. A rapid alternation of varied or contending emotions in monologue or dialogue called for accompanied recitative, which generally passed into a song, where a definite emotion might find its due expression. It was here that singers and composers sought to accomplish the highest degree of dramatic expression, and although in the aria they might be tempted to an undue regard for musical display, to the neglect of dramatic effect, here at least they strove for a faithful portrayal of human sentiment.

The aria was the almost exclusive form given to regular artistic song. Choruses, which formerly concluded every act, were afterwards only exceptionally employed, generally when the occasion, being a court festivity, required additional outward show; they very seldom formed an integral part of the performance.13 Ballets, which were originally combined with the choruses, became by degrees quite distinct, and were given between the acts of the opera. Concerted vocal pieces were confined within limits more and more strictly defined, until the rule came to be that in every opera there should be a duet for the prima donna and the primo uomo, and a terzet in which the primo tenore also took part; even the places for these, at the end of the second and third acts, were appointed. Further restrictions were imposed on the character of these concerted pieces by the necessity of giving all possible effect to the voices. They do not pretend to represent a conflict of struggling passions, pressing onward to the catastrophe; rather does some definite mood, the natural result of the situations which have preceded it, find its fitting expression in their regular concerted form, which affords ample scope for the display of varieties in quality and style of the individual voices.

The aria, which gave expression to a fixed lyrical mood, was seldom the culminating point of a dramatic situation; its connection with the action of the piece was, for the most OPERA SERIA. [162] part, only sufficient to give it a certain local colour. It was the task of both composer and singer to make the aria fit in to the drama; but the claims of the vocalist were paramount in its composition. As the canons of operatic construction became more and more strictly defined, distinctions arose between different kinds of arie, each having its own character and form; the aria cantabile was for sentimental declamation, di portamento for long drawn-out tones, di mezzo carattere for dramatic expression, aria parlante or agitata for the expression of passion, aria di bravura (agilità) for the display of artistic skill of every kind.14 The poet and composer had only to be careful to suit the arie to the performers, and so to distribute them through the opera that their variety should place the performances of each character in their most favourable light.15 But a certain fixed form served as a groundwork to all arie, and kept them within well-defined bounds. It is easy to trace the simple expressive phrase as it is extended and rounded into a well-formed melody, and then to follow the different subjects so obtained until, by progressions and interludes, they are welded into a whole. But this led to a petrifying formalism, and to a tedious lengthening of the aria, which sacrificed character to vocal display.

An aria regularly consists of two parts differing in key, time, and measure. An allegro in common time usually begins, introduced by a slower passage in triple time; but as to this there is no fixed rule, and free scope as to details is given to the composer. The first movement is broadly conceived, always with a view to the skill of the performer; he repeats one or more of the principal melodies in different positions, but without thematic elaboration, and inserts runs and passages.

In the second part the composer, granting some repose to the singer, made a display of his own art by selected harmonies, elaborate accompaniments, and so forth. It was THE ARIA. [163] essential to the singer's reputation as an artist that he should be able to vary the modulation and embellishment of the melody each time it recurred, the composer supplying a mere outline, and leaving the execution of the cadenzas entirely to the discretion of the performer. This task became more difficult as the custom grew of repeating the whole of the first part at the close of the second, thus turning the latter into a middle movement; for no singer would be deterred from enhancing the interest of each repetition by a fresh mode of delivery. So that the public performers of that day displayed their taste and cultivation not only, as at present, by execution and declamation; they worked of necessity side by side with the composer, whose special glory it was to inspire his singers with a spark of his own creative genius.

The influence thus exerted by the executive artist could not fail to determine, to a great extent, the path of development in operatic composition. The great names of the more celebrated singers are to us indeed but names, for contemporary notices give us no clear idea of their performances,16 and the music written for them, deprived of the direct charm of their personal impression, affords a most imperfect standard of judgment.

From the middle of the last century the tendency to sacrifice all consideration to execution (bravura) became more and more marked; until at last, dramatic propriety, and the soul-inspiring calm of beautiful song, were alike buried beneath the weight of ornamentation and exaggerated flourishes,17 serving only to display the pretensions of the vocalist and the dexterity of the composer. In this way the dramatic element of the opera became more and more neglected, until at last it was regarded as a superfluous and disturbing adjunct to the vocalisation.18

OPERA SERIA. [164]

The public too grew accustomed to confine their attention to the individual exploits of their favourites;19 and the composer, unwilling to waste his energy on thankless parts, followed the example, and devoted his whole powers to a few individuals.20

The enormous salary paid to celebrated singers, male and female, had the effect of limiting the number of principal parts to three or four, each distinguished as primo.21 The remaining parts were treated by both the poet and the composer as subordinate, not only on account of the mediocre powers available for their representation, but also and chiefly because it would have been against the interests of the great singers that secondary characters should attract notice or applause. They controlled all secondary parts, suppressing or appropriating any song which they considered too brilliant, and leaving the author to arrange the piece as best he might.22 There was a fixed code of etiquette in all stage arrangements. The prima donna, for instance, was entitled to have her train borne by one, or if a princess, by two pages; she took the place of honour at the right of the stage, being, as a rule, the most important personage of the piece. When Faustina Hasse played Dircea, in "Demofoonte" (1748), who is not recognised as a princess until late in the piece, she claimed precedence over the acknowledged Princess Creusa, and Metastasio himself was obliged to interfere in order to induce her to yield the point.23

Thus all influences combined to mould the opera seria into a narrow conventional form, in which all other considerations were sacrificed to executive effect, and the display of skill and sensibility in the rendering of the music.

We can form no clear conception whatever of the operatic INSTRUMENTATION—THE OVERTURE. [165] orchestra in its earliest form; both the use and the effect of various instruments are very imperfectly known, and the instrumentation is consequently more or less incomprehensible. But here too development proceeded in the way of simplification, and at the time of Scarlatti the treatment of instrumental accompaniment and the disposal of the orchestra was determined as to essentials for all future times.

In the plain recitative of the dialogue, the fundamental note was given by the bass, and the chord was struck on the piano (at which the composer or kapellmeister conducted) and repeated as often as necessary. In the songs and ensembles the instruments came in as accompaniments, freed from the obligation of following a given melody step by step with a given bass, according to the rules of thoroughbass for filling up harmonies. Scarlatti and the earlier masters kept this accompaniment very simple, seldom introducing more than one part in addition to the bass and the voice. But, as practised contrapuntists, they could handle the accompanying parts broadly and freely, and could give animation by simple means. This art gradually decreased, and the accompaniment, although fuller, became more mechanical and dependent, Only here and there suggesting contrapuntal elaboration. The orchestra was used independently only in the symphonies which repeated the motifs of the songs, in the short interludes of accompanied recitative, and finally in the introductory overture or sinfonia.

Italian operatic composers began by making use of the form of overture which Lully had established in France, beginning with an adagio, followed by a quick movement, often in the form of a fugue, and passing again into an adagio, which concludes the overture. Later, the form was determined which has remained ever since, of three movements: an allegro, a slower, shorter movement contrasting in time, instrumentation, and expression, and a concluding allegro, animated and often noisy.

These main features were capable of rich and varied development, were it not that in Italy little importance was attached to the overture, which was commonly regarded as a OPERA SERIA. [166] means of reducing the audience to silence and attention. The three movements, therefore, generally preserved their gradations without marked characteristics, and the attempt to express the effect of the first scene by means of the overture was soon abandoned.24

The grouping of Scarlatti's orchestra was in its main points identical with that of the present day. The stringed instruments, violins, tenors, and basses formed its main strength; but their application was very simple. The violon-celli go regularly with the double-basses, and the tenors serve generally only to strengthen the bass; where they are independent they are often divided, like the violins, which however frequently go together. The oboe has the chief part among the wind instruments, the flutes serving mainly for variety and special characteristics; the bassoons strengthen the bass, and are rarely used independently. Soon horns were employed, and drums and trumpets when special splendour was required; trombones were used in the churches, never in the opera.

In this manner even the largest orchestras were arranged down to the close of the last century; an example is afforded by the construction and arrangement of the Dresden orchestra by Hasse, which was considered as a model.25 [See Page Image] THE ORCHESTRA—INSTRUMENTALISTS. [167] The well-appointed bass parts are the most striking, intended as a firm foundation for the vocal melody, which is not seldom strengthened by the violins and oboes or flutes. But to avoid any effect of poverty, it must not be forgotten that the accompanist at the piano filled in the harmony. To strengthen this, and to give variety to the intonation, was the task of the wind instruments. But when the orchestra was treated as a whole there was seldom any attempt to render lights and shades by alternations of the instruments; to attain this end, concerted solo instruments were employed.

Italy was, during the eighteenth century, at once the mother and the nurse of instrumental musicians. A succession of first-rate violinists—Arcang. Corelli (1653-1713), Franc. Geminiani (1680-1762), Ant. Vivaldi (16...-1743), Gius. Tartini (1692-1770), Pietro Nardini (1722-1793), Gaet. Pugnani (1727-1803), Ant. Lolli (1733-1802)—established the glory of violin-playing, and raised it to an extraordinary height of excellence; while as oboists the brothers Besozzi, Alessandro (1700-1775), Antonio (1707-1781), Gaetano (1727-1793) were performers of the first merit. Trumpets were at that time more especially considered as solo instruments.

Not until later could Germany compete successfully with Italy, as far as the orchestra was concerned; in France, although the precision of Parisian orchestras was always remarkable, the development of instrumental music was longest delayed. Scarlatti introduced instrumental soloists in the operatic orchestra, and the effect was the same as on the stage; it worked against the careful striving after a perfect whole, and the tendency of the instrumental artists to enter into competition with the vocalists led in no small degree to that treatment of the voice as a mere instrument which was so much to be deplored. Notably Farinelli in 1722 established his reputation in Rome by a contest with a wonderful trumpeter, whom he twice vanquished in the sustenance and artistic delivery of a long note, and in the execution of difficult passages.26

OPERA SERIA. [168]

The first step towards simplifying opera seria in its new form was made in the diction and treatment of the plot. The subject-matter continued to be taken from the stories of mythology or ancient history; but effects of magic and show were abolished, and a connected well-developed plot was substituted, simple in action, and confined to a small number of personages. Next, the previous mixture of the tragic and comic elements was abolished, and everything approaching to burlesque strictly interdicted. The chief efforts in this direction were made by the Roman Silvio Stampiglia (d. 1722), to whom Apostolo Zeno awards more of genius and spirit than thorough cultivation,27 and whom Arteaga calls dry and unmusical.28 Apostolo Zeno himself (1688-1750) followed in the same path as court poet to Charles VI. He was a man of education and learning, and as such sought to model the opera on ancient tragedy in its best and most manly form, and strove for a naturally developed plot, correct delineation of character, and simplicity of language. He proved, said Metastasio,29 that the opera and good sense are not absolutely contradictory terms. The fact that his operas were often and successfully performed during the first half of the century bears testimony to the simplicity and earnestness of the musical taste of the time; later on, as the field of music extended its limits, his text was found pedantic.30 His indisputable merit31 was thrown into the shade by Metastasio's works;32 these denote in a remarkable degree the spirit of the time which produced them, a spirit that they themselves fostered and encouraged.

Metastasio (Pietro Trapassi, 1698-1782) distinguished himself as a boy by his talent for improvisation; he received a thorough learned education from the celebrated Roman METASTASIO. [169] jurist Gravina, which led to his adoption of classical antiquity as his model; while his connection with the singer Marianna Bulgarini early gave him an insight into the technical requirements of the opera. He began his career as a librettist in 1724 with "Didone" at Naples; in 1730 he went to Vienna as court poet, where he lived on the best of terms with the Imperial family,33 and highly esteemed by the cultivated public. Following Apostolo Zeno, he sought to supply his operas with a true dramatic form, and he made it his chief aim to portray the effect of different characters and passions upon the development of the action. Metastasio had no large or powerful conceptions, nor could he grasp strong passions; his psychological vision is clear and cool, but limited, just as his sentiments are correct and good, but neither wide nor free. In his dramas, therefore, the representation of character and the plot are well-considered, suitable, and consistent, but with a certain mediocrity running through the whole; he chiefly concerns himself with the exemplification of principles and experiences, and individualises but little.34 He makes love the animating element of his drama, and the starting point of his psychological study of motives. His characters want neither life nor passion, but softness and veiled sensuality are the characteristic features of what he endeavoured to make an imitation of actual life. The public were gratified at recognising themselves and their love affairs glorified on the stage, and were grateful to Metastasio for allowing them to enjoy themselves in their own way, and not preaching moderation and self-control. They admired his language too, which is correct, and charmingly melodious and natural in expression, not more rhetorical than the Italian language and poetry demands, and never overlaid with conceits.

To these qualities of a dramatic poet, Metastasio joined that of an operatic composer; he was a musician. He had cultivated his musical talent by intercourse with singers and OPERA SERIA. [170] composers, and had a ready perception of what was necessary to a work written for composition. He sang "come un serafino" (as he writes jokingly to Farinelli),35 played the clavier, and composed a little himself;36 he found it a pleasant incitement to poetical activity to seat himself at the clavier and improvise. He said himself he had never written a song without composing it himself, according to his own conception of its musical character.37

Metastasio confines the development of the plot as a rule to the recitative and the arie (or duet, or terzet), expressing at the close of each scene the sentiment which is the result of the previous action. This they always did so clearly and precisely that the composer had both incentive and scope for musical treatment.

The too numerous figures and metaphors (which he was fond of borrowing from the sea) express the taste of the time, and so far from troubling the musician, gave him opportunities for musical painting which was sure to be admired. The melodious language met the music half way, while the simple yet varied rhythm, the contrast of ideas, and the construction of the verse, aided the composer, without fettering him, in the musical phrasing of his work.

It was no wonder that Metastasio reigned supreme over the stage and its composers, and that he was the model of the later operatic poets; they succeeded best in imitating his defects, and gave Naumann occasion to say with justice, "The oldest of Metastasio's operas is more pleasing to me than any written by our present poets."

Metastasio was well aware that the poet only supplies a stem to the opera, which the composer clothes with foliage and blossom;38 but he was far from allowing the composer absolute dominion over the poet, and prided himself on the CONDITIONS OF LIBRETTO-WRITING. [171] fact that his operas had been played with applause as tragedies without music both in France and Germany.39

He chose to consider the composer as the interpreter of the poet, and bound to follow his indications of character and style.40 This was in his opinion the chief merit of the old composers, and in his later years he was never weary of deploring the decline of music, which was the consequence of the license taken by vocalists, destroying alike truth and beauty of expression.41

The poet not less than the composer found himself hemmed in by conditions as well as by traditional formulas. He too performed his task to order, and was hampered by circumstances, and by the limited means at his command in his choice of subject and characters.

It was in no way favourable to Zeno and Metastasio that they received their commissions from the court;42 besides the direct influence of the taste of the somme padrone, the whole atmosphere tended to effeminacy and a uniform level in style. The impresarii chose the libretti for the composers they had engaged, partly according to the applause the subjects had already received, but more to suit the singers they had at command. They were altered to suit the occasion sometimes by the poet himself, but more often some local poet undertook the necessary curtailments and additions, whereby the work seldom profited.43

The absolute monarchy of Zeno and Metastasio, whom all other poets slavishly imitated, would alone suffice to explain the fact that in the course of the last century opera seria received the fixed and unalterable form it still retains; we have seen that the tendency was the same as regards the music. This makes it comprehensible that in reading the text or the scores in the present day we have so lively an impression that they are but copies of one original. In no art does the feeling for what is enduring pass so easily and quickly into the taste for what pleases the age as in music. What affords most delight to the present often expresses only a transitory mood with a momentary truth, and when the smoke and the fragrance which surrounded it have disappeared, only an empty form remains; just as a mask keeps the impression of the features without the play of the muscles, which alone give life and expression.

[172]

MOZART found rules as to the form and technicalities of the opera 1 seria rigidly laid down even to the minutest details, and he was the less tempted to disregard these, since the extraordinary ease of his invention prevented his ever finding a prescribed form to be a burdensome restriction. Mozart's mission was not to overstep the bounds of custom, but quietly and gradually to bring to perfection all that was genuine and true in the diverse elements of his time. He found the opera already in the hands of the vocalists, and execution had by this time asserted its victory over characterisation. He did not attempt to enter the lists against singers and public, but contented himself with striving for fair conditions. He was willing to write to the satisfaction of the singers, and for the display of their powers, but he saw no necessity for "MITRIDATE." [173] sacrificing to this object either musical beauty or dramatic force. At times the dramatic situations in Mozart's early operas are true and even striking; but the dramatic element yields on the whole to execution and euphony. It must not be overlooked that the apprehension of dramatic truth and character varies with different times and different nations, and that the genius of first-rate artists could inspire life into what now appears a lifeless assemblage of notes. But it must at the same time be allowed that Mozart's operas of this period come under the influence of a taste perverted in many respects, which the youthful master had not yet overcome; and his forced compliance with many purely conventional demands must of necessity have left traces on his work as deep and lasting as those of his creative genius.

The opera of "Mitridate, Re di Ponto" (87 K.) was first adapted from Racine by the Abbé Parini, and revised by Vitt. Am. Cigna-Santi. The dramatis persona are as follows:—[See Page Image]

On the news of the death of Mithridates the inhabitants of Nymphæa deliver up the keys of the town to his son Sifares. Aspasia seeks his protection against the suit of his brother Pharaaces, thereby betraying her partiality for Sifares, which he secretly returns. Pharaaces attempts to force his hand on Aspasia, whereupon Sifares throws himself between them; Arbates separates the contending brothers with MOZART'S EARLY OPERAS. [174] the news of the landing of Mithridates; they are reconciled, and agree to keep secret from their father what has passed. Marzio promises to the ambitious Phamaces the help of the Romans against his father.

Mithridates enters, proud and courageous in spite of the defeat he has just suffered, and is received by his sons; he introduces to Pharnaces his destined bride Ismene, who regards Pharnaces with little favour. The demeanour of his sons awakens the suspicions of Mithridates, and on Arbates revealing to him the passion of Pharnaces for Aspasia, he falls into an extravagant rage. Pharnaces acknowledges to Ismene that he no longer loves her; whereat, wounded alike in her pride and her love, she complains to Mithridates. The latter resolves to punish him, and suspecting from Aspasia's cold demeanour towards himself that she returns the love of Pharnaces, he sets Sifares to watch her. The lovers of course now come to an understanding, but Aspasia virtuously commands Sifares to leave her for ever to the fulfilment of her duty.

Mithridates, in order to test the fidelity of his sons, consults with them on the prosecution of the war; he discovers the complicity of Pharnaces with the Romans, and orders his imprisonment; Pharnaces acknowledges his çuilt, but accuses Sifares of the greater guilt of complicity with Aspasia. In order to try her, Mithridates offers generously to resign her hand to Pharnaces, which draws from her the confession of her love for Sifares; this so infuriates Mithridates that he resolves to slay his two sons and Aspasia. This is the crisis at which the second act is brought to a conclusion by a duet, in which the lovers declare death preferable to separation.

In the third act, Ismene, repenting her resentment, strives to soften Mithridates, and Aspasia solicits Sifares' life with an assurance of his innocence; but, as she refuses to give her hand to Mithridates, he maintains his resolve, and the triple execution is to take place during a sally which he makes on the Roman host besieging the city. Aspasia is on the point of emptying the fatal bowl, when Sifares, who has been set free by Ismene, snatches it from her, and rushes against the enemy. Pharnaces, who has been released from his dungeon by the besieging Romans, is seized with compunction and returns to his obedience, setting fire to the Roman fleet. The Romans are defeated, but Mithridates is mortally wounded; before he dies he unites Aspasia and Sifares, and pardons Pharnaces, who has made his peace with Ismene.

The opera consists of twenty-four numbers without counting the overture; they are all solo songs, except one duet and the concluding quintet. 2 The original score appears to be lost; but several detached numbers of this opera are ANALYSIS OP "MITRIDATE." [175] preserved in different forms of composition, showing that Mozart had made various experiments, more, doubtless, to please the singers than himself. Of the first air of Mithridates (7), "Se di lauri il crino adomo," there are four different sketched studies; Aspasia's song (13), "Nel grave tormento," is begun in a different form, but breaks off at once; five other numbers are completely worked out, but have given place to later arrangements. 3

This opera comes in all respects within the rules of the existing opera seria. Musical etiquette is strictly adhered to; the principal and secondary parts are divided in the usual way; the secondary parts are easier (not always simpler), and their character is tamer and less important, so that they may act as foils and connecting links to the principal parts. The chief singers had to be furnished with opportunities for making effect as soon as they appeared; and must have at least one great aria in each act. All this is carefully provided for. The compass and executive skill of the artists, more especially of Bernasconi and d' Ettore, must have been extraordinary. The division of the aria into two movements, which prevails here as elsewhere, favours the elaboration of details by affording more than one principal subject. We must not expect to find a uniform florid song, the ornamental passages growing out of and entwining the chief melody, like an architectural ornamentation; they form an integral part of the composition. The taste in such passages is essentially MOZART'S EARLY OPERAS. [176] fleeting, for it depended chiefly on the skill of the individual performer; what is most admired in one age is least pleasing to the next. The same dismemberment made itself apparent too, in the cantilene. The various vocal tricks, long notes, sustained melodies, long jumps, syncopated passages, &c., to which due effect had to be given, could not be thrown together without some connecting principle. For this the subjects of the songs were made use of, but the effect was still disjointed and inartistic. The detached phrases were usually still further separated by a full or a half cadenza, to which an instrumental interlude was often attached. No doubt this wealth of variety was then considered a great charm; now we miss unity of form and conception. The turns of harmony are generally monotonous and poor, the form of the cadenza with its trills is just as stereotyped as that of the present day with its suspended sixth, and both the singer and the public expected and required that this should be so. No doubt the freedom which was allowed to the singer in delivery often gave quite a different form to the cadenza, but the want of conception could at best but be concealed.

These shortcomings are not to be ascribed in Mozart's case to youthful immaturity, but to the musical conditions of the time at which he wrote; they are equally observable in the works of the most experienced contemporary musicians, and were indeed hardly regarded as blemishes. The question involuntarily arises what there was in these early operas which could so enchant the public and draw from a master like Hasse the prediction that this youth would eclipse them all. A witty artist once declared that the public always requires novelty, but it must be novelty that they are acquainted with; anything really new demands too great an effort of comprehension from them. In this case, no doubt, the public, agreeably prepossessed by the readiness with which the work complied with all existing conditions, were quick to appreciate the skill and taste which were manifest, as well as a certain youthful freshness, and here and there traits more significant still of genius; traits in which Hasse recognised the germ of future development. We, who know Mozart in the full perfection of his powers, seek eagerly in ANALYSIS OF "MITRIDATE." [177] these earlier works for such indications as there are of his future greatness. Sometimes, even in the bravura songs, pure, grand touches of melody light up their conventional surroundings; these are usually in the second part, and in the minor key. The more dramatic "situation-songs" in which the composer made fewer concessions to the singers, are not only conciser in form, but more pregnant and original in expression.

The most striking among them is the song of Aspasia (4). Upon the news of the arrival of Mithridates, whereby she knows Sifares to be in danger, and her love for him rendered hopeless, she utters these words:—

Grief, which seems too deep for words, here breaks forth in such an uncontrollable flood of song, expressed with so much truth and nature, that a dramatic artist like Bernasconi would be sure to make an extraordinary effect by it. The simple, purely musical means employed, the expressive flowing melodies, rich harmonies, suitable accompaniments, and charming moderation of expression—all these show us the genuine Mozart.

Should it be objected that the milk-and-water heroism of the piece is still further debased by gallantry in powder and gold lace, we can nevertheless claim for it, after all deductions made, a certain amount of stateliness and dignity. These qualities are indeed displayed more according to court etiquette than to classical antiquity, but they are unmistakably there, conformably to the manners of the time and the nation, and their artistic significance is not small. Mithridates, who has most of individual character after Aspasia, never forgets, as Sonnleithner justly observes, that he is first tenor as well as king; but on the other hand he always remembers that he is king as well as first tenor.

MOZART'S EARLY OPERAS. [178]

The text of the opera "Lucio Silla," composed in 1772 (135 K.), was written by Giovanni da Camera, and according to the preface, revised by Metastasio. The programme runs:—[See Page Image]

Cecilio, a senator, banished by Silla, has secretly returned to Rome to learn the fate of his betrothed Junia, daughter of C. Marius; his friend Cinna warns him that Silla has spread the rumour of his death in order to win the hand of Junia; Cinna counsels him to meet her in a burial-place. Silla, whose suit has been repulsed by Junia, resolves to slay her. Cecilio awaits his betrothed in the dusky burial-place, surrounded by the trophies of Roman heroes. She enters, accompanied by noble youths and maidens, who call for vengeance on Silla, and lament by the urn of her father. When she is alone, Cecilio reveals himself. She takes him at first for a ghost, and they then express their joy in a duet.

In the second act Aufidio, Silla's evil counsellor, advises him publicly to declare Junia as his betrothed, and thereby reconcile the contending factions; she will not be able to oppose the universal wish. Celia, his sister, who always counsels well, informs him of the ill-success of her appeal to Junia; he promises to unite Celia to her lover Cinna. Silla has scarcely departed, when Cecilio rushes in to murder him in obedience to a vision; Cinna counsels postponement, to which Cecilio at last consents. Ciàna is now so engrossed in his plans for revenge that he scarcely heeds Celia, who tells him of their approaching happiness, and tries to persuade Junia to a feigned submission, and the murder of Silla in his bed-chamber. But she refuses to be guilty of high treason, and he resolves to slay Silla himself.

Junia, who declares that she will never give her hand to Silla, is threatened with death, but nevertheless counsels Cecilio, who wishes to avenge her, to remain in concealment. Celia seeks in vain to persuade her by the portrayal of her own happiness, but cannot stifle gloomy "LUCIO SILLA." [179] anticipations. Silla announces from the capitol his intended union with Junia, and is answered by acclamations, but Junia endeavours to stab herself, which is prevented. Cecilio rushes in with drawn sword, is disarmed, and his death on the following day decreed by Silla; Cinna, entering also with drawn sword, sees that his plot has failed, and feigns to have come to Silla's protection. A terzet between Junia, Cecilio, and Silla concludes the act.

In the third act Cecilio in fetters is informed by Cinna of the ill-success of his plot, and calls on him for vengeance. Junia declares her resolve to slay herself before Cecilio. Aufidio comes to fetch him, and the lovers take leave.

Silla declares before the assembled people that this day shall give him vengeance and his heart's desire. Junia accuses him as the mur» derer of her betrothed, and calls on the people to avenge her. Silla pardons her and Cecilio, and unites the loving pair. Seized with compunction Cinna reveals his plot against Silla; he, too, receives pardon and the hand of Celia. Finally Silla forgives Aufidio his evil counsels, lays down the dictatorship, and restores freedom to Rome.

The consideration of such a libretto as this renders comprehensible the esteem in which Metastasio's texts were held. There is no trace of psychological study of motive; Silla, a sort of distorted Titus, alternates between cruelty and remorse, and finally empties a perfect cornucopia of generosity on to the stage; Junia too is unequal and weak. The situations are one and all as if purposely arranged to lead to nothing; the poet has with difficulty disposed the numerous scenes so as to introduce the necessary songs in their proper order. And the verse itself is very far removed from the grace and melody of Metastasio.

The score of the opera is preserved entire in Mozart's handwriting; it is in three parts, and has 610 pages. It contains besides the overture twenty-three numbers, among them three choruses (6, 17, 23), one duet (7), and one terzet (18). No wonder that the composer paid court to the singers! The mishap that deprived the opera of its tenor has been already narrated (p. 142). As the part devolved in the end on a very unpractised singer, the greater part of it was omitted, leaving only what was necessary for the coherence of the plot. The two songs (5, 13) are written for a singer whose voice and execution do not rise above the average, without any passages, and with a MOZART'S EARLY OPERAS. [180] moderate compass; the more elaborate instrumentation alone betrays that they are intended for a principal performer. Two other songs for Silla which are in the libretto were not composed at all, in order, no doubt, as Sonnleithner conjectures, to give the tenor as little as possible to do.

All the more stress is laid on the parts of De Amicis and Rauzzini. Junia has four songs, which are all for a singer of the first rank. The special bravura song (II) is in the second act, "Ah, se il crudel periglio del caro ben ramento." Long passages of varied structure are here the chief considerations. One example among many will serve to show that Mozart was right in afterwards calling them "dreadful":—[See Page Image]

Notwithstanding the bravura character of this song, its style is far from well defined; that of the entering song, "Della sponde tenebrose" (4), and of the third aria (16) is more marked. This last, "Parto, m' affretto, ma nel partire il cor si spezza, mi manca la anima," consists of a continuous and progressive allegro assai. An agitated phrase for the first violins—supported by an accompaniment for the second, runs through it almost without intermission; the harmonising is interesting "LUCIO SILLA"—JUNIA. [181] and varied; particularly effective is the immediate juxtaposition of major and minor keys; the whole song is strikingly expressive of an unsettled wavering mood.

Passages such as—[See Page Image] are brilliant, but not, properly speaking, characteristic. At least they do not stamp the actual situation with individuality; they seem designed only to define the character and mood of the acting personage in their main features, like the masks of ancient tragedy. The more detailed analysis was left to the art and individuality of the performer, to whom the composer offered only the means of combining dramatic force with song. We can still recognise the essential features of the characters; but we are quite unable to realise either the animation with which great artists inspired them, or the effect they produced on the minds of contemporaries. It is a mistake to consider bravura and character as opposite terms; ornamental passages are quite susceptible of characteristic expression, if they are delivered at the right time and in the right way. Junia's songs express the character of a proud strong Roman woman, and an opportunity for dramatic analysis is offered to the performer even in the more florid songs. But the true dramatic expression is undisturbed in Junia's last song (22), "Fra i pensier più funesti di morte veder parmi l' esangue consorte." The long adagio, followed by an allegro, is a distinct foreshadowing of the later form. The treatment of the orchestra too is significant. The flutes, oboes, and bassoons are in unison, and contrast with the stringed instruments, after a fashion not usual at the time: and in the allegro the orchestra is in significant opposition to the voice part, which is simple and unadorned, although calculated to give due effect to a fine voice; its dramatic expression is quite excellent.

MOZART'S EARLY OPERAS. [182]

In the part of Cecilio, written for Rauzzini, the regard paid to the singer is very apparent both in the compass of the voice, which comprises two octaves, and in the style. He was what may be called a scholarly singer, theoretically educated, and a composer himself, and difficulties are introduced evidently with a view to this. Thus, for instance, the recitative preceding his second aria is full of curious, sometimes harsh, turns and transitions in the harmonies; in the third aria such jumps as the following occur—[See Page Image] requiring no small certainty of execution. The first song (2), introduced by a fine expressive recitative, begins, as these male sopranos loved, with a long-sustained note, and'contains various brilliant passages; but it is quite without original invention. The second song (9) expresses a proud, free mood with strength and animation; the last (21) can only be explained as a freak of the performer. Cecilio, in the act of being led to execution, moved by Junia's tears, turns to her with the words—

These tender, trifling words, are treated by Mozart with an exquisite grace which is quite foreign to the character and the situation of Cecilio, and, as Sonnleithner observes, would be much more suitable to a soubrette. Probably Rauzzini chose this way of ingratiating himself with the public.

Besides the solo songs the opera contains a duet for J unia and Cecilio, and a terzet for the same and Silla, which are cleverly constructed, but not otherwise remarkable. The duet (7) consists of an andante and a somewhat tedious allegro, in which the voices go together for the most part in thirds or sixths, with little attempt at imitation. The terzet "LUCIO SILLA"—ENSEMBLES. [183] is well conceived. Each of the three voices has a characteristic motif, which is not elaborated, but set in contrast with the others; afterwards the lovers are set in opposition to Silla, and the expression is heightened by occasional use of the three voices together; in short, some traces are here discernible of the talent for musical architecture which Mozart afterwards displayed is so remarkable a degree.

The scene which precedes the close of the first act deserves special notice; it is both conceived and executed with true dramatic force. In a hall (atrium), decorated with the trophies of his ancestors, Cecilio awaits in the twilight the coming of Junia. The varied emotions roused in him by the contemplation of the graves of departed heroes, and the yearnings of love, are graphically expressed in an accompanied recitative. Junia appears, escorted by noble Romans of both sexes. The chorus calling on the spirits of the heroes for support and vengeance is serious to solemnity, with striking harmonies and an independent treatment of parts, giving animation to the whole—an altogether excellent piece of music, with much dramatic effect. Junia joins in with a prayer to the shade of her father. The pain of a proud, strong spirit is expressed in a simple and dignified adagio, which gives a fine soprano voice full scope for the display of its capabilities. The prayer is followed by a curse pronounced on Silla by the chorus, powerful and animated, and a fitting close to this truly dramatic musical scene. A resemblance to the first chorus in Gluck's "Orfeo," pointed out by Sonnleithner, is too slight to be considered more than a mere suggestion.

Among the secondary parts that of Celia has the most independence of character. Her two first songs (3 and 10) are, on the whole, simple and graceful, especially the second. Passages in Cinna's three songs (1, 12, 20) and in the air for the second tenor, Aufidio, are calculated to display the powers of the artists, but the songs, as a whole, have little or no individuality.

There are two choruses besides that which we have noted, but neither of them are so impressive. In the second act Silla's appearance on the capitol is greeted by a chorus which MOZART'S EARLY OPERAS. [184] is powerful, and supported by a running accompaniment. The last act is brought to a conclusion by a chorus, alternating with the solo voices, but the movement is unimportant.

The overture consists of the usual three movements (Molto allegro 4-4, Andante 2-4, Molto allegro 3-8), and pretends to no connection with the opera itself, being altogether after the ordinary pattern. The treatment of the orchestra is not unusual. Trumpets are frequently used, and sometimes kettledrums; but this is of little moment—more interesting is the fact that the wind instruments are often freer and less subordinate to the strings than usual. An attempt is evident to render the accompaniment full and lively; the second violins have characteristic and occasionally imitative passages. But these are merely attempts; the influence of the traditional form overpowers all endeavours after a freer method; it displays itself in many mechanical habits, as, for instance, in the harmonic turn which almost invariably precedes the singers' cadenzas:—[See Page Image]

The two festival operas composed in 1771 and 1772 belong in essentials to the opera seria, but were subject to certain special rules. The festa (azione) teatrale, also called serenata, were arranged with immediate reference to the person in whose honour they were given. They were usually also allegorical, the advantage of this kind of poetry being that it was capable of expressing more or less open flattery. A pastoral character was almost always given to the treatment of the old myths, so that the dramatic element was thrown into the background, and the brilliancy of the entertainment was left to depend principally on the magnificent costumes and scenery. The musical treatment became more openly and unreservedly undramatic, and the composer was satisfied with affording a means of display to the singers. The serenata was in the traditional three acts, but not bound by the scenic divisions of the opera "ASCANIO IN ALBA," 1771. [185] seria; as it originally served as an interlude to other festivities, it was usually also shorter. As a rule, it was only performed once; and took the second rank after the opera seria. 4 It was on this account that the festival piece was intrusted to young Mozart, the opera to Hasse.

In "Ascanio in Alba" (111 K.) Parini 5 had endeavoured to produce a work worthy of a festivity such as the marriage of the Archduke Ferdinand with the Duchess Marie Beatrice d'Este. Divinities, heroes, and shepherds form the dramatis persona, and there are abundant choruses, ballets, and spectacular effects, with no lack of flattering by-play. The programme will serve to show what distinguished artists 6 were engaged to represent this piece:—[See Page Image]

Venus, preceded and accompanied by a chorus of genü and graces, descends from heaven with her grandson Ascanio, and informs him that she desires to unite him with Silvia, a lovely and virtuous nymph of this her beloved land. Silvia is of the race of Hercules, and Cupid having caused her to see Ascanio in a vision, she already glows with secret love for him. Ascanio is filled with joy, and being counselled by Venus to prove Silvia's constancy before declaring himself to her, he expresses impatience at this postponement of his happiness. Fauno comes to the sacrifice with a chorus of shepherds, and reverently extols the goodness of Venus to the country and the people. Silvia then draws near, accompanied by Aceste and a chorus of nymphs and shepherds. The priest Aceste informs Silvia, whom he has brought up, that Venus herself intends to unite her to Ascanio, and to found a new city with their progeny, and expresses his MOZART'S EARLY OPERAS. [186] joy in a long aria. Silvia is amazed, and declares her love for the youth whom she has seen in her dreams; Aceste consoles her by saying that Venus must have sent the dreams, and she in her turn sings a long song denoting her joy. After all have retired to prepare the sacrifice Ascanio declares in an aria his delight with the charming Silvia; but Venus exacts that he shall yet make trial of her virtue.

A ballet follows this act, in which the nymphs and graces astonish the shepherds by changing the grove into a splendid temple, the first building of the newly founded city.

Silvia beholds this new erection with admiration, and utters her longing for the yet unknown beloved, in which she is supported by a chorus of shepherdesses. When Ascanio appears she recognises her lover in him; but as he feigns not to know her, she remains doubtful, and Fauno confirms her in the error that it is not he; she swoons. Ascanio laments that he cannot show himself in his true form, and departs, whereupon she revives, and makes known her anguish and determination to remain true to her duty in a long recitative and aria. Then he returns, and throws himself at her feet. She repulses him with the words, "Io son d' Ascanio," and flees, which gives him opportunity for a song full of tender admiration. Aceste, to whom she confides all, praises her for her virtue. Venus appears with the chorus of nymphs and shepherds, and presents Ascanio to Silvia as her spouse. After the lovers and Aceste have announced their joy in a terzet, Venus exhorts the young rulers to fulfil their duties faithfully to their subjects, and ascends to Olympus among the expressions of gratitude uttered by Aceste in the name of the people; and a joyful chorus brings the whole to a conclusion.

The description which Fauno gives of the guardian divinity of the country, and the address of Aceste to Venus as she departs, contain so many allusions to Maria Theresa that non-recognition was impossible. Silvia too, of the race of Hercules (the name of Ercole was common in the family of D'Este), the pupil of Minerva and the muses, the pattern of virtue and modesty, is undoubtedly the Princess Beatrice, whose intellect, literary cultivation, and amiability were universally admired. 7 There was less to be said of the Archduke Ferdinand; nothing could be made of him but a fair youth with rosy cheeks. It is worthy of note that although mutual liking founded on beauty and spiritual endowments is highly extolled, yet, as became a royal wedding, the subjection of inclination to duty is made the "ASCANIO IN ALBA," 1771. [187] theme of highest praise. The union had not been consummated without difficulty, 8 and some anxiety was felt as to the relations of the young couple.

"The Archduke and his wife are well and very happy," writes L. Mozart, "which must be a great satisfaction to Her Majesty the Empress, because it was feared that he would not think much of his wife, she not being beautiful; but she is uncommonly amiable, pleasant and virtuous, consequently beloved by every one, and she has quite captivated the Archduke, for she has the best heart and the most engaging manners in the world."

The original score, in two volumes of 480 pages, is preserved: it contains twenty-two numbers. At the close of the first act we have the bass part of the ballet in nine numbers, written by a copyist, and affixed, doubtless as a guide to the conductor. L. Mozart writes expressly that the ballet which connects the two acts was to be composed by Wolfgang (September 7, 1771); there must have been a special score for the manager of the ballet which has not been preserved.

We cannot help wondering that Hasse should have founded his prophecy of Mozart's future greatness on this opera, for it seems to us less original than its predecessors. It certainly displays talent and assurance, but there is not an original idea in any of the fourteen songs to be compared with those of the former operas. The accompanied recitatives do not arrest attention, the most animated among them being the recitative (13) in which the lovers, seeing each other for the first time, express their agitation in asides. Contrary to custom, the wind instruments are employed in the recitative; but otherwise the treatment of the orchestra calls for no remark. One song of Silvia's (11) is accompanied by four horns (two in G, two in D) without any singular effects; the last song of Ascanio (18) has, besides horns, bassoons and flutes, two serpentini (in F), instruments which, Schindler suggests, resembled the English horn.

The most prominent among the singers was Manzuoli, for whose part Mozart now applied the instruction he had MOZART'S EARLY OPERAS. [188] formerly received from him in London (p. 41). It is written for a mezzo-soprano, keeps always to the middle notes, and has no passages at all; only here and there easy embellishments. The simple lingering melody is not without feeling, which, however, never rises to passion. The first song (2) begins with a long-sustained note, whilst the last resembles those in "Lucio Silla" in its tender playful grace.

There is more variety in the part composed for Maria Ant. Girelli-Aguilar, who sang in Gluck's "Aristeo" and "Orfeo" in Parma (1769). The first cavatina (7) is simple, graceful, and complete in design and treatment; two others (8, 11) are bravura songs, with brilliant passages, the melody having an air of dignity, which is also apparent in the last song (16), both in the adagio and the allegro.

Gius. Tibaldi, whom Gluck had summoned to Vienna, where in 1767 he sang the part of Admetus 9 in "Alceste," was already in years, and his voice past its prime; his two songs (6, 19) are adorned with long passages, which imply a very fluent singer.

In the closing terzet (21) the voices are at first contrasted in detached characteristic motifs; but afterwards the soprano and tenor are grouped together with alternating passages, while Manzuoli's part retains its simplicity of character.

Of the two secondary characters, to each of whom two songs were assigned, it is to be noted that they have a higher compass than the principal singers. Their songs, too, are richly provided with passages; but their character is perceptibly subordinate.

The choruses, seven in number, were a great ornament to the piece. They do not interfere with the action, and five are in connection with dances. Also in the overture, on the conclusion of the first animated allegro, the second movement changes into a dance "of eleven females," as L. Mozart writes, "either eight nymphs and three graces, or eight graces and three goddesses," and instead of the third "ASCANIO IN ALBA"—CHORUSES. [189] movement 10 a chorus of nymphs and graces with corresponding ballet is introduced, the orchestra retaining the character of a third movement of the overture, and the voices (four or two-part) filling out the harmonies after the manner of wind instruments, but in a freer, more flowing style. The chorus is repeated on both occasions when Venus ascends to heaven. Most of the other choruses are also repeated like refrains on appropriate occasions; the second (3) is given six times. It is in two parts, for tenor and bass, and remarkable for its accompaniment of 2 flutes, 2 oboes, 2 bassoons (and violon-celli), 2 horns, and double-bass, but not otherwise original. The following chorus (5), introduced by a short intrada, which announces Silvia's approach (four-part, but interrupted by two short three-part movements) is blithe and animated. The accompaniment has an independent passage in dance-measure for the violins; the voices move with spirit and freedom. The second act begins with two female choruses. The first, two-part (12), acquaints Silvia of the approach of her lover, and is lively and fresh; the two voices alternate easily in imitative phrases.

Still more animated is the next three-part chorus (17), when, Silvia having repulsed Ascanio and fled, the chorus express surprise in a short imitative movement addressed to Venus. The following chorus (20), which is repeated three times, has simple harmonies, but is powerful and effective. The concluding chorus (22) is effectively worked up after the manner of the first into a quick animated movement, followed by a full ballet.

The choruses, heightened by the scenic arrangements, must have contributed greatly to the success of the opera. They display so much freedom and assurance, such perfect mastery of method in order to attain the truest effect, that perhaps it was here that Hasse recognised the footprints of the lion.

The second festival piece, composed in honour of the MOZART'S EARLY OPERAS. [190] newly elected Archbishop Hieronymus in 1772, was Metas-tasio's "Sogno di Scipione" (126 K.), an allegorical poem in one act, on a classical model. 11

To the younger Scipio, asleep in the Palace of Massinissa, appear Steadfastness (Costanza) and Fortuna, and require him to decide which of the two he will choose for his guide through life. On his demanding time for consideration, Fortuna depicts in a song her fleeting, unstable nature. Costanza answers his question as to where he is by telling him he is in heaven, instructs him on the harmony of the spheres, and informs him that he is in that region of heaven where his departed ancestors abide. These approach him in a chorus, and from their midst steps out the elder Scipio Africanus, who acquaints him with the immortality of the soul, and the reward of the good in another life. Then Scipio's father, Emilius Paulus, draws near; he shows him the earth as a little point in boundless space, and warns him of the nothingness of all earthly things in comparison to the heavenly. Struck by this, Scipio wishes at once to leave earth and remain with his forefathers, but Africanus refuses, telling him that he is destined to save Rome, and that he must therefore tarry on earth, and earn by his great deeds the reward of immortality. Africanus refuses also to influence by his advice Scipio's choice between the two goddesses, who now demand his decision. Fortuna, who has more than once expressed her impatience, again depicts her omnipotence, which Costanza opposes with a representation of her victorious strength. On Scipio's declaring himself in favour of the latter, Fortuna threatens him with her heaviest penalties, the dazzling apparition disappears, a tremendous storm breaks forth, and Scipio awakes in the Palace of Massinissa, and declares himself true to Costanza.

The allusions to the circumstances under which the piece was first produced on October 1, 1735—the birthday of Charles VI., who had suffered severe defeats in Italy—are evident enough, especially in the speeches of Africanus and Costanza. Nevertheless, the Licenza comes at the conclusion, making a direct address to the hero of the occasion, and winding up with a formal congratulation in the form of an aria and chorus.

SOGNO DI SCIPIONE," 1772. [191]

This occasional piece was considered by the Salzburg authorities to be a suitable greeting to the new Archbishop without any alteration, apparently on account of its philosophic moral reflections, and it may indeed be considered as a good example of the dramatic treatment of such reflections. 12 Dramatic the treatment can hardly be called; it is a kind of concert in costume. It is difficult to comprehend how Scipio can act or sing songs while he is supposed to be dreaming; yet Metastasio makes him awake from his dream at the end of the piece. 13

Mozart's composition, of which the original score, in one volume of 315 pages, is preserved, has more of a concert character than any other of his dramatic works of the period. It keeps strictly within the customary limits, and is poor in original invention, giving just the impression of work done to order; the score bears traces also of great haste.

The overture closes with the second and slower movement, which prepares the scene for the slumbering Scipio by a change from the principal key of D major to E major, and a decrescendo to pp. 14 This, and the accompanied recitative, that closes with the storm in the midst of which Scipio returns to earth, are the only dramatic or characteristic movements. It is curious that the opportunity for an obbligato recitative (for instance, at the description of the harmony of the spheres) is never taken advantage of; the long speeches are all in plain recitative.

Not one of the ten songs has any dramatic characterisation; even the parts of Fortuna and Costanza do not offer any marked contrast. Each of them has two songs—one freely conceived in a broad style, with full orchestral accompaniments, the other of smaller design, and both richly provided with high passages. First, Fortuna sings her principal song (2), and Costanza her shorter one (3); afterwards the case is MOZART'S EARLY OPERAS. [192] reversed (8, 9); but the character, pitch, and formation of the songs differ so little that apart from the words they might easily be mistaken the one for the other. There is a second composition of the Licenza in existence, pointing by its handwriting, firm structure, and the independence and delicate treatment of the orchestra, to a considerably later date.

The three Roman heroes all sing tenor. Africanus has a great bravura song (5), with passages as high as C in alt; his second is quieter and simpler, and makes an attempt at characterisation; the image of the rock, standing immovable in the sea, is sketched in sober colours. The song of Emilius Paulus has a kind of dance measure, not very lively, and reminding us of a polonaise; the words "un fanciullin che piange" are illustrated by a chromatic scale. Finally, Scipio has two bravura songs (1, 10) with many passages, the second being remarkable for its length.

But, indeed, most of the songs are of great length, and introduced by long ritomelli. Where there is no distinct second part, the Da capo comes into use; the middle movements are short and lightly treated. The orchestra displays some freedom and independence, but is not equal to "Ascanio."

The two choruses are of the usual opera type. The first (4), in which Scipio is greeted by his ancestors, is not without power and dignity, but it has no characterisation, and is almost throughout in harmony; only once the voices make an attempt during a few bars at independent movement.

In the concluding chorus (12) the voices complete the harmony in the usual way to a running accompaniment.

THE commonly received opinion 1 that the oratorio originated in the devotional exercises held in the oratories of monasteries, ORIGIN OF ORATORIO. [193] and thrown into the form of a musical drama by Filippo Neri (1515-1595), is without foundation. All that can confidently be asserted is that he caused laudi spirituali, a kind of motett, 2 to be sung by way of recreation, and that he organised carnival performances ("rappresentazioni") which withdrew the mind from worldly follies; 3 whether, and in what degree, music had to do with these we do not know. 4

The "Rappresentazione dell' Anima e del Corpo," by Emilio de' Cavalieri, who sought to reproduce the old tragedy on the same principles as Peri in the opera, was arranged for representation on a stage ("palco"), with scenery, costumes, and dances, and contained recitatives and choruses. 5 One performance took place, according to the preface to the score, in February, 1599, in the oratorium of the church of S. Maria, in Vallicella, 6 and this Della Valle remembered having attended when a boy. 7 Henceforward sacred dialogues and ORATORIO. [194] dramas set to music were frequent in Rome and elsewhere, and were given not only before the congregation dell' oratorio, 8 but in churches, monasteries, and palaces. The history of the development of these rappresentazione or azione sacra, also called oratorio, 9 has not yet been traced in detail. 10

In time the performances were confined to Lent, when no opera was given, and although action and costume gradually disappeared from the churches, 11 and the whole assumed more and more the form of a concert, yet the dramatic element, or at least the dialogue, always remained.

The connection with the service of the church was so far maintained that a mass and an address from a boy preceded the oratorio, and a sermon was delivered between its two parts. 12

The growth of the azione sacra kept pace with that of the opera seria.

Apostolo Zeno defined the form of the oratorio by giving it unity of action, time and place, and strict dramatic treatment, and Metastasio carried on and completed the work just as he had done in the opera. Its division was into two, not three parts, otherwise the arrangement corresponded altogether with that of the opera. The characters enter speaking; recitative is employed for the dialogue, and the airs serve "LA BETULIA LIBBRATA," 1773. [195] to express the higher emotions; concerted songs occur but seldom, but the choruses are frequent, and more often form a part of the action than in the opera.

The subject-matter is borrowed from the Bible, generally the Old Testament, or from some old legend; but both persons and plot must of necessity be devised, so as to represent the story in a succession of dialogues. An effort is made to preserve the biblical diction in the poetry, but the animated rhetorical style of Italian poetry decidedly gets the upper hand. Moral and religious reflections are the almost invariable themes of the songs and choruses, which have rarely any individual character. In this respect, as well as in the dearth of dramatic action, the azione sacra comes nearer to the so-called azione teatrale than to the genuine opera seria.

The legend of Judith is treated as follows by Metastasio, in his oratorio "La Betulia Liberata," which has often been composed. 13 The dramatis persona ("interlocutori") are:—[See Page Image]

Ozia reproaches the desponding inhabitants of Bethulia for their cowardice, and declares his resolution not to give up the city to the enemy. Amital and Cabri oppose him, describing the sufferings of the people from famine and sickness. In vain he reminds them how the Lord has helped their fathers, they demand admission to Holofernes, and it is with difficulty that he obtains a delay of five days, and calls upon God for help, with the chorus. Then Judith enters; horrified at ORATORIO. [196] the decision, she upbraids them for their cowardice which dares to doubt God's mercy and set a limit to His power: "il primo è vile, temerario il secondo." Her song (5) may serve as a standard for the style of this poetry:

She exhorts the trembling people to trust and patience, and informs them that she has formed a great resolve, which as yet she can communicate to no one; while she prepares herself, all are to unite in prayer; the former chorus is repeated. Carmi brings Achior as a prisoner, who relates that, having told Holofemes of the courage of the Israelites and the wonderful power of their God, who renders them invincible as long as they trust in Him, he has been sent into the city to share its destruction. Judith approaching, is left alone with Ozia, who is surprised to see her richly adorned; she demands egress from the town with her maid, and departs, the chorus (in the distance) expressing astonishment at her enterprise.

In the second part Ozia seeks to convince the heathen Achior that there is but one God. Before his arguments have been quite successful Amital enters and describes the death-stillness, expressive of the extreme of need and despair, which hangs over the city. Shrieks and tumult interrupt him; Judith returns, and relates how she has slain Holofernes; she holds the decapitated head before the incredulous Achior, who swoons for fear. After Judith's song, he comes to himself and declares his conversion to the faith of the God of Abraham. Carmi enters, and relates that at Judith's bidding they had raised a war-cry; the Assyrians, discovering the death of Holofernes, were seized with terror and fled precipitately.

A song of thanksgiving to God, in which Judith leads the chorus, forms the conclusion.

The composers treated the oratorio in the same way as the opera seria, 14 only that the want of dramatic variety favoured the adoption of the concert style of music. In its form there was no important difference; we find the same treatment of the recitatives, secco and obbligato, of the songs and of all important parts, including the choruses; only "BETULIA"—OVERTURE. [197] that the bass voice is made use of in solo singing. We might expect to find the musical conceptions inspired by earnestness and reverence; and this was so far the case that the oratorio excluded all that was trifling, voluptuous, or that related to the passion of love. But a religious tone was entirely wanting, and the operatic style was only modified, not essentially altered. Every song in an oratorio would have been quite in place at a corresponding point in an opera seria, and many operatic songs might have been transferred to an oratorio with perfect propriety. The bravura of the vocalists was considered as appropriate in the churches as on the stage, only that a certain amount of moderation was becoming.

During Lent, when the opera was closed, the public looked for entertainment to the oratorios, and flattered themselves that they were at the same time fulfilling a religious duty, because the performance took place in a church.

Mozart's music to "Betulia Liberata" (118 K.) is quite on this level. There are unfortunately no indications of time or place on the original score, which exists in two volumes of 382 pages and fifteen numbers; the handwriting and composition place it undoubtedly between 1770 and 1773. As we know that Mozart received a commission for an oratorio at Padua in March, 1771, it may safely be conjectured that this was the "Betulia Liberata," and that it was performed in Padua in 1772. 15

The three movements of the overture in D minor are quiet and more concentrated than usual; the arrangement of the parts is more independent, with attempts at imitative treatment. Besides oboes and bassoons, there are four horns (in D and F), and trumpets (in D), used frequently and in the same manner as at present.

ORATORIO. [198]

A secco recitative follows the overture; the music never rises above the dialogue, with its long, sermonising speeches and rhetorical bombastic reflections. There are only two accompanied recitatives: the first occurs when Judith upbraids the people; short and skilfully modulated instrumental phrases interrupt the animated declamation, and the whole is lively and expressive. Later on Judith delivers the long narrative of her adventure with Holofemes (II) in an accompanied recitative. The stringed instruments strike the chord in a high pitch, with which Judith's alto voice strongly contrasts. There are but few agitated passages; but, indeed, even in stirring moments the music never reaches anything like characterisation. The prayer of Judith at the most critical point of the piece is not conspicuous either for tunefulness or varied accompaniment.

The solo parts are distributed among all the four voices: for Amital, Cabri and Carmi are soprani, Judith alto, Ozia tenor, and Achior bass; they are never united in an ensemble, and there is not one duet.

Judith has three airs, besides a solo with chorus. The first (5) approaches as near as possible to a bravura song. The words are expressed with grace and animation. The passages are neither predominant nor tedious, which is doubtless due in part to the singer for whom the part was composed, for the second song (7), powerful and dignified as it is, is also without passages; it begins with the favourite long-sustained note. The chief movement of the last song (11)—a long adagio with a carefully composed accompaniment—is finely descriptive of Judith's mood, but there is no appeal to the feelings by beautiful melody. The whole part is not bravura in the strictest sense; the deeper alto notes are only occasionally employed.

That this moderation of style was not inseparable from the character of oratorio music, may be seen from the parts of Amital and Ozia. The second song for Amital (10) and the first for Ozia (1) are regular serious bravura songs, with passages, long-sustained notes, and florid accompaniments. Amital's last song (13) is solemn and earnest, to suit the words, but still keeps the performer well in view; Ozia's "BETULIA"—ARIE, CHORUSES. [199] second song is soft and graceful, and the first which reminds us of Mozart's later style.

The bass part of Achior is less carefully written, and not nearly so bravura in style. The first song (6) is more noisy than vigorous, both in voice and accompaniment. This boisterous treatment of the bass voice was then common, and it was on that account excluded from the opera seria. 16 In this place it accords with the dread apparition of Holofernes which is described. The second song of Achior, after his conversion (12), is very simple and insignificant; the accompaniment is partly imitative.

The two airs of Cabri (2) and Carmi (14) are, as usual with secondary parts, simple, and not without expression, but in no way original.

The traditional aria form is adhered to in almost all the songs. The second part, distinct from the first in composition if not in time and measure, is short and superficially treated; generally only the last part of the first movement is repeated. The latter is broadly conceived, with long ritomelli; the invariable cadenza is brought in in the usual way. The accompaniment resembles that of operatic songs, but is more carefully worked out. Original passages for the second violins—sometimes, too, for the violas—occur, here and there, as well as attempts at imitation; and the wind instruments are occasionally employed independently. All these attempts show decided talent, but they are few and far between, and the orchestra has not the stamp of independent vigour.

The choruses, although occupying more space in the composition, do not materially differ from those of the opera. The concluding chorus of the first part (8) is like a study for a recitative, turned into a chorus by means of the accompaniment, which consists of two alternate strongly marked subjects. The elaboration is not contrapuntal, but ORATORIO. [200] harmonic, and a simple but rich modulation gives significance to the movement. The voices give the full harmony, and a moderate amount of agitation in the melody and rhythm appears when the declamation demands it. The favourable pitch, the interesting modulation, the characteristic accompaniments, and the dignified seriousness which runs through the whole, all combine to make this chorus effective and excellent of its kind.

The two other choruses are prayers connected with solos. The first (4) is very simple. Ozia sings a melodious, beautifully conceived cantilene, full of feeling, which is accompanied by the violins pizzicato, and the chorus ends with a repetition of the two last lines. The second verse, with a change of composition, preserves the same character; after which the first is repeated, and leads with effective climax to a full close.

The last chorus is more grandly conceived. Judith answers the thanksgiving of the chorus in two strophes descriptive of the victory, and then the chorus falls in again; this is repeated three times, and a moral reflection follows as a closing chorus. Mozart has chosen an ancient church melody for the refrain of the chorus:—[See Page Image]

The melody is four-part, the partially varied harmony dignified and powerful, and interesting in its simplicity; the voices are well treated and animated. At the fourth "BETULIA"—COMPARISON WITH HASSE. [201] repetition Mozart has assigned the Cantus firmus, somewhat altered in the second part, to the tenor voice:—[See Page Image]

Thence he passes to the closing chorus. The solo part of Judith, simple, dignified, and earnest, resembles a regular song; but the declamatory is more prominent than the melodious element. Although somewhat overpowered by the chorus, the character of Judith is here most significantly expressed. Whenever Mozart allows himself free play, he exhibits originality, truth, and earnestness.

The closing chorus is lively and brilliant, but kept in moderation, and its character is not without strength and dignity.

That this conception of the oratorio was not peculiar to Mozart, but was the then commonly received one, is plain from a comparison of this with other contemporary oratorios—with those, for instance, by Hasse, which are reckoned among his most important works. Whoever should form, on the strength of the eulogies pronounced by Hiller on the oratorio "Sant-Elena al Calvario," 17 a conception of this ORATORIO. [202] and similar pieces founded on our present ideas of sacred music, would find himself much deceived. Here, as in all Hasse's oratorios, the art of the vocalist is the determining element, and the expression of emotion coincides in essentials with that of the opera. The differences in Mozart's oratorio are unimportant, and are founded on variations in the taste of the time and of the composer.

Hiller speaks with great admiration of the pilgrims' chorus, to which Hasse has set the chorale "O Lamb of God" in such a way "that its whole attraction consists in the alternation of the voices and of the various instruments among whom the melody is divided; the bass and violin are in unison throughout, and give animation to the whole, with a simplicity that is worth more than ten fugues, and which betrays more insight into the true beauty of song than the most artistic counterpoint." It almost seems as if Hiller wished to point at J. S. Bach, and remembering some of the marvellous creations of Bach—for instance, the first chorus in the St. Matthew "Passion Music"—the contrast between different artistic tendencies and personalities can hardly be better exemplified than by comparing him and Hasse. Hasse has succeeded in bringing the chorale into accordance with the Italian style of his oratorio, but he loses thereby the proper significance and effect of the chorale. The way in which Mozart has introduced the Catholic church melodies unaltered is, from this point of view, grander and more striking. And Hasse was looked upon in Mozart's day as a representative of the good old times in the traditions of which he had been educated.

OPERA BUFFA was a gradual outgrowth from the opera seria, in which originally comic characters took part in burlesque scenes. OPERA BUFFA. [203] Even so late as 1718, when Scarlatti's "Telemacco" was produced, there were scenes of coarse humour between Tersite and Silvina in this otherwise conventionally correct opera. 1 When, however, the discrepancy between these and the dignity and purity of the opera seria came to be fully felt, the comic scenes were detached, generally without much difficulty, and given as independent additions, between the acts. 2 It had long been the custom to interpose between the acts of the spoken drama—tragedies as well as comedies—musical representations which had no connection with the piece itself, and were called intermedi or intermezzi, and in the opera both the comic scenes and the ballets were gradually loosed from their connection with the main body of the work and placed between the acts. The relish of the audience for these comic interludes soon led to the production of independent comic pieces called intermezzi, which took the place of the disjointed scenes from the opera. As a rule there were but two characters, one male and one female, and there was no continuous plot even when the same characters appeared in the different intermezzi. The dialogue was carried on in plain recitative, and there were neither solo songs nor duets OPERA BUFFA. [204] to interfere with the main opera. In the intermezzi which Metastasio himself composed for his "Didone Abbandonata" in 1724, the characters are Ribbio, a poet, composer, singer, and impresario, who is desirous of establishing a theatre on the Canary Islands, and Dorina, the prima donna whom he wishes to engage; after many affectations she sings a song before him, whereupon he produces others, of his own composition, and they vie with each other in mutual compliments. In the second intermezzo Dorina, dressed for the stage, displays her tragic powers to Ribbio as Cleopatra; finally they conclude a romantic contract, which includes a prospect of tender relations between the two.

Great effect was caused by the caricaturing and ridiculing of the opera seria, and by the exposure of the personal relations of stage heroes and heroines; elements which have always played a great part in opera buffa.

The intermezzo gives, as it were, the back view of the opera seria, not with the intention of destroying the ideal effect by sarcastic criticism, but rather in order to heighten it by force of contrast. Even the independent opera buffa preserved much of this parodying reference to the opera seria.

Pergolese's "Serva Padrona" which was first produced in Naples in 1730, was another example of an intermezzo for two characters; it met with great success not only in Italy, but in France 3 and Germany, 4 and set the fashion for similar pieces. Very soon an intrigue was introduced, a connected plot was supplied, and the number of characters increased first to three, then to four. 5 The development of the intermezzo was rapid, and before long the inconvenience of carrying on two independent dramas simultaneously caused the complete emancipation of opera buffa from opera seria. 6 Equal rank with the latter it never attained. It came to THE INTERMEZZO. [205] maturity on the boards of the smaller theatres ("teatrini"), and was long in gaining admission into the larger theatres. Even then it was only exceptionally introduced during the season or stagione, side by side with the opera seria, although in the German court theatres an opera seria and a buffa were not seldom played alternately during the carnival. In Italy comic operas were only admitted in summer, and at those times when there was no grand opera. They did not pass for exhibitions of perfect vocal art, and fewer calls were made on the powers of the singers apart from their comic talent in delivery and action. There is no doubt that this external subordination was of inestimable value to the development of the opera buffa.

It received a firm foundation of musical configuration—recitative, aria, ensemble—without the necessity of submitting to limitations and laws so fixed as to have become absolute. The bass voice, which was considered most suitable to comic characters, and had already been appropriated to them in the old opera, was made the chief vehicle for comic effects in the intermezzo. Volubility of utterance, mimicry, and comic action were as necessary as a fine voice. The highly paid male soprano might therefore be dispensed with in opera buffa; the unnatural conventionality of the opera seria would have been insupportable in representations of daily life. By this means the voices were brought into their proper relations; the lover's part was allotted to the tenor, and the performance generally gained in variety and in the natural grouping of the parts.

The distinction of primary and secondary parts was disregarded, as well as the limitation to a small number of vocalists; though these seldom went beyond seven. 7 There were usually three female parts; the most decidedly comic was the sly, pert waiting-maid (a standing figure of the opera buffa), or a scolding old woman, an unsophisticated peasant-girl, &c.

OPERA BUFFA. [206]

The tenor part was usually the sentimental, unhappy lover, and required most from the singer, but there were often two tenor parts, in which case one was comic; the buffo tenor was not however nearly so well defined a part as the buffo bass. The bass parts were decidedly comic; a blustering old man and a cunning or a stupid servant were seldom wanting. When the lover was a bass, he was either jovial or comical.

In spite of all this freedom, certain typical features were formed that recur in all the varieties of grouping and disguise. The opera buffa was far from adopting in dialect or costume the well-defined character, of the Italian popular comedy, but the resemblance in form is unmistakable. It was in imitation of the popular plays that the comic parts were made caricatures, the effect of which depended on striking but exaggerated peculiarities. The music was made to display these, 8 and there can be no doubt that the want of individual character in the opera seria favoured the passage to the opposite extreme in the opera buffa. As a relief to the caricatures, mezzo carattere were invented, in which the purely musical element was more pronounced.

Intermezzi required an easy and loosely connected plot; the popular jokes would not have come out so well from a studied, well-connected drama, as from effective situations where favourite characters could follow their bent. If the situations were of ample variety, lively and humorous in their rendering, the audience was quite ready to forget how weak the thread was which held them together. The opera buffa was always written for a specified company, and the FORMS OF OPERA BUFFA. [207] poet, limited both as to characters and effective situations, found his labour simplified by such a skilful use of the conditions ready to hand as should secure him applause and success. 9 Opera buffa, being held in little esteem, was seldom taken in hand by poets of note; even Goldoni's texts are, as he acknowledges himself, 10 unworthy of esteem. Goethe, 11 when he was studying the comic opera in Rome with the composer Kayser, remarked, that "there were a hundred things to be observed, to which the Italians sacrificed the spirit of the poetry; for instance, each character was to be brought forward in a certain order and a certain degree—each singer must have pauses, &C." 12 His own experience gave him a very just judgment on opera texts, and he rightly ascribed a certain amount of simplicity, which, apart from the music, made them appear poor and meagre, to a tendency to treat the subject fancifully, like a child's fairy story. 13 But the majority of comic libretti are disconnected and absurd, without spirit or delicacy, depending entirely on the effect of humorous exaggeration; and the universal opinion was a just one, that the words of the comic opera were as poor as the music was charming. 14

The musical forms of the opera seria were modified and remodelled by the comic composers with very unequal skill and success. The recitative needed little transformation; the more trivial treatment of the dialogue suggested itself, and the accompanied recitative was only varied to suit the comic situations. The aria, on the contrary, belonged essentially to musical art, and had been developed at the cost of dramatic truth; opera buffa did not concern itself with either of these facts. It adopted the forms of the opera seria (unless when it parodied them) only in the parts di mezzo car ottere which it had appropriated from the opera seria.

OPERA BUFFA. [208]

The contrasting of different motifs was preserved as an essential condition of musical composition, but the rules as to method and succession were no longer regarded as binding. The subjects were more slender and fugitive, so as to be more easily united, and they profited thereby in freedom of movement and form. In many airs which have only one tempo, the constituent parts of the original aria can be clearly recognised, but the subjects are arranged and repeated according to circumstances, the subordinate subjects are more important and longer, and the means at command are more freely used. Piccinni was the first to introduce the rondo form, which repeats the main subject several times with freely treated intermediate movements. It met with great applause, and was variously developed, being at last adopted in opera seria. 15 But the simpler form of the cavatina was more usual, and received many modifications; the ballad style was also not infrequent.

This freedom and many-sidedness of treatment was more especially favourable to the dramatic aspect of the piece, and brought the plot into closer relationship with the music, particularly in the ensembles. Duets, terzets, and quartets were introduced wherever the situation required, and this musical dramatic character reached its highest point in the finales, which are true musical representations of a dramatic climax ascending to a catastrophe. These finales, products of the continual struggle to render music not the ornament but the helpmeet of the drama, are the property of the opera buffa.

Nic. Logroscini, who was considered as the inventor of comic opera, and the deity of the genre bouffon, 16 is said to have written the first finale, the main subject of which was developed in one continuous movement. Nic. Piccinni (whose "Buona Figliuola" was so well received in Rome in 1761, that it may serve as a date for the recognition of opera DEVELOPMENT OF OPERA BUFFA. [209] buffa as a distinct branch of the art) treated each scena of the finale as a separate movement, and displayed far greater variety and more effective working-up.

Many of the deficiencies of the text must have had considerable influence on the music. The latter was constantly striving after dramatic effect and characteristic situations, and was as constantly dragged back by caricature and absurdity. The custom also arose of providing unworthy comic effects for the buffo characters, such as the mimicry of natural sounds, quick speaking, and others that have become gradually extinct. On this point the severe mentorship of the opera seria exerted a wholesome influence in preventing the complete sacrifice of form to fun; so that, to the observer of the present day, regularity of form is more observable in comic opera than freedom of treatment.

From opera seria too the comic opera received its main principle, viz.: that the essence of the opera is in music, and more especially in song, on the suitable treatment of which it depends for all its effect.

The majority of dramatic composers have tried their hand at opera buffa; besides Nic. Logroscini (17...-1763), Bald. Galuppi (1703-1765), Nic. Piccinni (1728-1800), we may particularly note Pietro Guglielmi (1727-1804), Pasq. Anfossi (1736-1797), Giov. Paisiello (1741-1816), Domen. Cimarosa (1754-1801), all men of prominent parts and thorough musical training. Add to this the innate love of the Italians for beauty of form, and it will be easily comprehensible that in spite of many excrescences opera buffa should have blossomed into a musical art, which in creative genius and intellectual power soared far higher than its elder sister, whom it soon surpassed in the favour of the public. 17

The greater freedom of style was of advantage also to the instrumental parts, which took an independent share in the characterisation. Many situations were heightened by the orchestra coming to the foreground—as for instance during the frequently recurring parlando where it falls to the instruments to give the clue to the intended expression.

OPERA BUFFA. [210]

The instrumental scores which Piccinni was blamed for overloading and making unnecessarily prominent appear to us indescribably poverty-stricken. 18 But it was thus that the orchestra gradually developed into such an independence as makes it capable of following the rapid emotions of the actors, and of serving at the same time as a firm foundation for the whole artistic organism.

The overture in three movements was not the only one permissible; symphonies in two parts were frequent, as also a somewhat more elaborate allegro movement, which served as an instrumental introduction.

Anfossi's "Finta Giardiniera" had met with great success in Rome in 1774, whilst Piccinni's opera was hissed off the stage. In spite of its miserable text it was produced in 1775 at Vienna, 19 and in 1778 at Paris; 20 and at Munich Mozart received the libretto to compose for the Carnival of 1775—

The dramatis persona are as follows:—[See Page Image]

The Marchesa Violante Onesti has been wounded by her lover Conte Belfiore in a fit of jealousy, and he, believing that he has slain her, flees. She sets forth in disguise to seek him, accompanied by a faithful servant, Roberto; they both enter the service of Don Anchise, Podestà of Lagonero, as gardeners, she under the name of Sandrina and he as "LA FINTA GIARDINIERA," 1775. [211] Nardo. The Podestà falls in love with Sandrina and neglects for her the waiting-maid Serpetta, to whom he has been paying his addresses. Nardo strives in vain for Serpetta's favour; the two intruders are equally obnoxious to her. Ramiro, Don Anchise's guest, and the accepted lover of his niece Arminda, is deserted by the latter, who becomes affianced to Belfiore.

At the opening of the opera the inhabitants of Lagonero are busily employed decorating the garden for the reception of the betrothed couple; Ramiro informs the Podestà that an unhappy love torments him, and departs. The Podestà sends Nardo and Serpetta to a distance, in order that he may declare his love to Sandrina; this she seeks to evade, while Serpetta continually contrives to interrupt them, so giving occasion for a comic aria from the Podestà. Thereupon Sandrina announces to Nardo her intention of leaving the place to escape the attentions of the Podestà, and complains of the faithlessness of men; Ramiro entering, bewails the inconstancy of women, and Nardo the cruelty of Serpetta. Arminda, who has just arrived, behaves whimsically to the Podestà and Serpetta; Conte Belfiore enters, greets her as his bride, and comports himself like a vain affected fop, boasting to the Podestà of his nobility, his wealth, his good looks, his conquests, and his love for Arminda.

Serpetta and Nardo having quarrelled, we next find Sandrina busy in the garden. Arminda informs her that she is about to wed Conte Belfiore; upon which Sandrina swoons. Arminda calls Belfiore, and leaves the unconscious Sandrina to his care while she runs for her smell-ing-bottle; when she returns Ramiro enters, and the four lovers recognise each other in extreme confusion; the Podestà, entering, seeks in vain for a solution of the mystery; they all go out, and leave him alone. Before he can recover from his astonishment, Serpetta, to excite his jealousy, relates that she has seen Belfiore and Sandrina holding tender intercourse, and he withdraws in order to watch them. Belfiore tries to extort from Sandrina the confession that she is Violante; at first she denies it, but then forgets herself and reproaches him for his infidelity. As he falls repentant at her feet, Arminda enters with Ramiro, all the rest rush in, overwhelm him and Sandrina with reproaches, and the act closes amid universal confusion.

The second act opens with Ramiro reproaching Arminda for her inconstancy, while she does the same to Belfiore; then Serpetta makes fun of Nardo. Sandrina, who, in her own despite, still loves Belfiore, is surprised by him in the garden, forgets herself again, and overwhelms him with reproaches; when he remorsefully sues for her love again, she recollects herself, and explains that she has known Violante, and has only been giving expression to her feelings. Quite confused, he makes her tender excuses, and tries to kiss her hand, but seizes instead that of the Podestà, who has drawn near unobserved, and goes out confounded.

OPERA BUFFA. [212]

The Podestà first reproaches Sandrina, then makes her a formal declaration of love, which she seeks in vain to evade. Ramiro enters with a letter, wherein Belfiore is denounced as the murderer of the Marchesa Onesti, and requires the Podestà to institute a formal inquiry; to Arminda's disgust the Podestà declares the marriage postponed, and Ramiro is filled with fresh hope. The Podestà interrogates Belfiore, who, in spite of the whispered hints of Arminda and Serpetta, becomes confused, and draws great suspicion on himself; then Sandrina appears, and explains that she is the Marchesa Violante who was wounded, not killed; they do not believe her, and treat her with contempt. When she is alone with Belfiore, and he in delight renews his expressions of love, she tells him she is not Violante, but has only impersonated her to save him. Amazed and horrified, he loses his senses and begins to rave, but soon comes to himself.

Serpetta informs the Podestà and Ramiro that Sandrina has fled, but when they have hurried forth to seek her, betrays to the listening Nardo that Arminda has had her rival conveyed to a hiding-place in the neighbouring wood, in order to prevent any interference with her union to Belfiore.

Next we see Sandrina left alone in darkness, want, and despair; in quick succession there enter Belfiore led by Nardo, the Podestà seeking Sandrina, and Arminda and Serpetta to make sure that she is secure; in the darkness the Podestà declares himself to Arminda, and Belfiore to Serpetta, both believing that they are addressing Sandrina, to the delight of Nardo, who now enters, followed by Ramiro with torches, calling upon Belfiore to renounce the hand of Arminda. When the party recognise each other there is first great consternation; then all break into abuse and reproaches; Sandrina comes to an understanding with Belfiore, they both imagine themselves shepherds, and amid the universal hubbub sing pastoral ditties; then she enacts Medusa, he Hercules, and at last they dance with delight, while the others are beside themselves with anger and astonishment.

In the third act, Nardo is again scorned by Serpetta, then Belfiore and Sandrina attack him, making passionate love to him in their madness, and he escapes with difficulty. The Podestà is beset by Serpetta, whom he repulses, by Arminda, who wants to wed Belfiore, and by Ramiro, who demands Arminda's hand, though she again declares that she detests him.

Belfiore and Sandrina having fallen asleep in the garden, awake to soft music, cured of their madness; they recognise each other, and after some resistance she listens to his suit. Upon this Arminda resolves to bestow her hand on Ramiro, and Serpetta on Nardo, and only the Podestà remains unmated.

It was no easy task even to follow these clumsily connected situations, too incoherent to be called a plot; and it "LA FINTA GIARDINIERA"—GERMAN VERSION. [213] would have taxed the efforts of any composer to save such a work from utter oblivion.

Only the second and third acts of Mozart's original score (196 K.) are preserved, in two volumes, containing together 344 pages; the first is lost, and there is no known copy of the Italian score, so that the recitatives of the first act are unknown.

The opera was later produced in German; the German text is inserted in the original score by L. Mozart, with trifling alterations of a note here and there to suit the declamation. Besides these there are numerous abbreviations, both in the recitatives and in some of the songs (13, 17, 19, 25), which were made for the first performance at Munich, and indicated by rough chalk strokes and erasures; with the same end, Mozart recomposed the whole of an abridged scene.

The abridged songs are adopted in the German version, but one air (20), which was marked in chalk "to be omitted," is retained. That Wolfgang was himself concerned in this adaptation is proved by the fact that on certain pages the accompanied recitatives which were retained in the German opera are rewritten in his own hand. Spoken dialogue takes the place of the plain recitatives, and the German cues are inserted by a third hand. In Rei-chardt's "Theaterkalender," the operetta, "Das verstellte Gartner-Madchen" has been included among Mozart's works since 1781, and it was performed under this title at Frankfort in 1789. Mozart probably undertook the adaptation after his return from Paris to Salzburg, when he busied himself with the improvement of German opera. The translation may safely be ascribed to Schachtner. The score is preserved in duplicate; and a selection of the songs was printed by André under the title "Die Gärtnerin aus Liebe." 21

OPERA BUFFA. [214]

This opera takes an unquestionably higher rank both as to originality, technical skill, and vivid characterisation than any that had preceded it. The seven personages, all drawn in firm outline with a sure hand, are not all comic characters.

The part of Ramiro is avowedly written for a male soprano, probably for the celebrated Tomm. Consoli (b. 1753), who entered the Munich Kapelle in 1744, and was summoned to Salzburg for the approaching festival performance. The part is throughout a serious one; Ramiro is the sentimental unfortunate lover, who only becomes comic by his alternate hopes and fears, as, true to his first inclinations, he opposes Arminda's jealous resentment.

In his first unimpassioned song (2) he declares that, being scarcely healed from his first unhappy attachment, he recoils from all fresh enticements; he has not yet seen his faithless beloved again, the sight of whom afterwards causes him to forget all in the desire to win her. The cavatina (18) renders the sentiment of true and hopeful love simply and tenderly. Finally, resentment against his faithless mistress is expressed in an agitated air (21) with strongly accentuated declamation and rapid changes of harmony. All three songs render consistently the exalted mood of a man of sentiment, whose passions, nevertheless, are not consumed by their own intensity; the individuality of the singer may doubtless have lent itself to this treatment of the part. This individuality is also evident in the fact that Ramiro's songs pay chief regard to the singer in the passages, and adhere closely to the older forms. But there is unmistakable progress in the richer and freer grouping of the subjects, and in the delicate feeling with which the digression in the middle movement is treated, and gradually led back to the main subject.

Arminda stands next to Ramiro. As an imperious, passionate girl, who ill-uses her faithful lover, and runs after another man, she is more repulsive than comic. Musical characterisation, by giving to her violence an air of pettishness, has introduced a comic element into her first air (7) which brings the noble lady very near the soubrette. The air (13) in which she threatens the Count with vengeance for "LA FINTA GIARDINIERA"—SANDRINA. [215] his inconstancy has a caricatured expression of the pathetic, which parodies the manner of the opera seria, and might, therefore, produce a comic effect. The absence of all bravura in this part, in spite of the style of the songs, which seems to call for it, was no doubt to suit the particular singer—a seconda donna.

The part of Sandrina was expressly written for Rosa Manservisi, who was highly thought of, both as a singer and an actress. 22 It is comic neither in intention nor fact. An unhappy woman, of deep and delicate feelings, injured and deceived, is forced by adverse fate to dissimulate; the difficulties into which she is led by her disguise are not ludicrous, but painful, and excite only sympathy. It was common at the time to introduce persons and situations of a sentimental character into opera buffa, without any regard to the incongruity of different styles. 23 The principal scena given to Sandrina at the close of the second act quite oversteps the boundary of opera buffa. Left deserted in the dark and gloomy forest, she gives vent to her despair in a song (21), which strikingly expresses the breathless anguish of a tender, timid maiden, in the face of unknown dangers.

A characteristic passage for the violins—[See Page Image]

the agitated nature of which is increased by syncopated notes in the accompaniment, and by the strong accent thrown on the last fourth of every bar—goes through the whole movement of the allegro agitato in varied modulation; the voice comes in with detached exclamations, and once a melodious phrase silences the accompaniment for a moment, until the orchestra again takes up its restless movement. The song passes immediately into an expressive accompanied OPERA BUFFA. [216] recitative, in which Sandrina becomes calmer, and assures herself, by looking round, of her forsaken condition. This is followed by the cavatina (22)—

which carries the expression of long-restrained feeling to its highest point. Throughout a restless, hurrying Allegro agitato (6-8) the voice has almost always interrupted passages, and seldom tries its powers in a sustained note or a melodious phrase. The orchestra remains in continual motion; at first a tender violin passage is introduced, then the oboes and bassoons alternate with each other, and with the voice. The whole is a single continuous thread of lovely melody and richly varied harmony, with one fundamental idea as its starting-point, and upon it rests the magic of grace and beauty. To the expression of excited passion follows that of resignation; both are manifestations of a nature tender and noble indeed, but neither grand nor strong.

Mozart's correct judgment led him to moderate the expression of passion in Sandrina to a degree befitting the heroine of a comic opera, while giving due prominence to her dignity and grace when she appears as the gardener's girl. She displays her true self most unreservedly in the cavatina (11) in which she bewails her unhappy love:—

Sonnleithner has noted the happy effect produced by the entrance of the voice, not at the beginning of the theme, but a little behind it, as if roused from abstraction:—

{"LÀ FINTA GIARDINIERA"—BELFIORE.}

[217]

[See Page Image] A gentle spirit, not altogether lost in sadness, yet not able entirely to throw it off, is in Sandrina united to tender womanly grace, and both find due expression in the music. Even when she plays the gardener's girl, she does it with pleasant mirth never sinking to vulgarity. The air (4) in which she undertakes the defence of women against men to Ramiro (a rondo with a lively coda, 6-8), is gay and sparkling, but not very pronounced in tone.

When she seeks by her cajoleries to appease the sulky Podestà without exactly telling him that she loves him, she reveals a certain amount of coquetry, and in her exaggerated expressions of dismay at his reproaches, approaches the buffo character; but even here the moderation, delicacy, and grace of Sandrina's character is in strong contrast to that of Serpetta.

Both the comic and the pathetic aspects are combined in the Contino Belfiore, whose burlesque character appears to have been excellently represented by the buffo Rossi. His attempt on Violante's life sets him before us as a man of passion; the wavering of his inclinations between Arminda and Violante is the less comical, since he expresses his admiration of Arminda's beauty with simple and manly OPERA BUFFA. [218] dignity (6), but gives vent to his love for Sandrina, whom he recognises as Violante, in a fine outburst of true emotion. The conclusion of this song (15), being buffo in character, readjusts the situation. He has not remarked that Sandrina has gone out, and the Podestà taken her place, and he seizes the hand of the Podestà to kiss it; his confusion and annoyance required comic expression. He takes part elsewhere in comic scenes and situations; but his first appearance as a vain, supercilious coxcomb is misleading and inconsistent, and only intended to give occasion for a grand buffo air (8). The pride and loquacity with which Belfiore details his genealogy are wittily rendered by Mozart; but as a buffo song this evident concession to the taste of the singer and the public is without marked individuality. Still less happy is the idea of making the Contino, and afterwards Sandrina, go crazy. Madness is only representable in music in so far as sympathy with it as a misfortune can be aroused, which deprives it of any comic effect; the absurdities which excite to laughter cannot be rendered musically, and only in rare cases can music produce an analogous effect. In the second finale, when Sandrina and Belfiore, surrounded by bitter enemies, suddenly imagine themselves Arcadian shepherds, and sing shepherd songs, a contrast might be produced which would at least support the idea of insanity. But their mythological illusions: "Io son Medusa orribile! Io son Alcide intrepido!" could not be expressed by the music. In the terzet (24) Nardo, in order to escape the importunities of the crazy pair, points towards heaven, and tells them with increasing animation how the sun and moon quarrel, and the stars engage in love adventures; when he has set the pair gazing fixedly upwards, he makes off. Broadly represented, this gay, lively terzet must have made an effect, but it would have been equally comic had Nardo fixed their attention on anything else, since the effect depends on the vivacity and humour with which the composer grasps the situation, and withdraws the attention of the audience from the nonsense which the poet has put into the mouths of the characters.

But even this was impossible in the accompanied recitative during which Belfiore loses his senses before the eyes of the "LA FINTA GIARDINIERA"—BUFFO PARTS. [219] audience (19). At first, when he is beset by contending emotions, music is in its place; when he believes himself to be dead and in Elysium, Mozart has certainly constructed a characteristic, well-rounded movement, but a specific expression of the illusion it is not and cannot be. The song in which, restored to his senses, he expresses his joy at still living (in tempo di minuetto) is lively, and appeals to the senses like dance music, but after what has gone before it makes no comic impression.

The first bar of this—[See Page Image] reminds us, as Sonnleithner has remarked, both of the minuet and trio of the Symphony in D major (385 K.), and of a couple of bars in the first allegro of the Symphony in E flat major (543 K.).

The Podestà is a genuine buffo, proud, amorous, consequential in virtue of his office, easily excited, easily perplexed, but good-natured at bottom; the genuine type of a comic old man; there was probably a personal reason for making this character tenor instead of bass, though the course was not an unusual one. 24 The musical conception of the character is that of the traditional buffo. The first air (3) depicts, according to a fashion of the time, different instruments which are heard in the orchestra in a concerted accompaniment. This song has nothing in common with the situation or with the character of the Podestà, and is an interpolation for the German version.

The Italian text contains a song for Sandrina, "Dentro il mio petto io sento," which Mozart composed, as we learn from a letter of his father's (December 2, 1780), who had it copied for Schikaneder. The other two songs (17, 25) are genuine buffo—lively, rapidly uttered—a continual struggle between false dignity, anger, vexation, and perplexity.

The servants are also, according to custom, comic OPERA BUFFA. [220] personages. Serpetta contrasts with Sandrina in want of refinement; disappointed in her hopes of the Podestà, she becomes envious and spiteful to every one, and especially to her lover, Nardo. Besides a neat, pretty little song, of which each character sings a verse (9), she has two songs (10, 20) of a distinctly soubrette character, gay and pleasing, not without grace, but as yet without the delicate wit with which Mozart later endowed his soubrettes.

Nardo, as the attached and faithful servant of Violante, displays an address which is inconsistent with his röle of the simple lover who pursues Serpetta in spite of all her ill-treatment. The first words of the mock-heroic air (5), "A forza di martelli il ferro si riduce," have suggested an accompaniment—[See Page Image] which gives the song a peculiarly rhythmical character. In the second air (14) the rondo form is employed with striking effect. Nardo seeks to win Serpetta's hand by compliments in different languages and styles, which form alternating interludes to the main theme; this is pretty enough, but the other jokes are obsolete.

The ensembles are of a far higher character than the solos, both as regards characterisation and musical execution.

The introduction is immediately connected with the overture, and borrows its lively chorus from the third movement, but its development is completely independent. The overture itself consists of an Allegro molto, precise in its subjects and execution, but fresh and cheerful, and of a somewhat tedious Andante grazioso.

Sandrina, Serpetta, Ramiro, the Podestà, and Nardo, are discovered in the garden, awaiting the arrival of the wedding guests, and their festive mood is expressed by a joyous choral movement. Then each character in a short soliloquy explains the position of affairs, and indicates the main elements of the plot. In these soli, which pass from one to the other in the same tempo, and without a pause, Mozart "LA FINTA GIARDINIERA"—ENSEMBLES. [221] has displayed his rare power of individualisation, and without the sacrifice of interdependence in the parts of a great whole. The moonstruck Ramiro, the amorous Podestà, the excitable, prying Serpetta—each is admirably touched off, without any disregard to unity of tone. The repetition of the first chorus, with which the piece concludes, is led up to by the accompaniment, and the whole forms as complete a musical rendering of the text as was possible.

The later ensembles belong immediately to the action of the piece. At the close of the third act Sandrina and Belfiore awake from refreshing sleep healed of their madness. Belfiore seeks acceptance of Sandrina, who now acknowledges herself to be Violante, but she, abashed at his declarations of love, bids him depart, and prepares to go herself. Neither, however, can summon resolution to part, and after several attempts, they sink at last in one another's arms, forgetful of all but their newly found happiness. This situation, somewhat coarsely rendered by the poet, has been transformed by the composer into an admirable piece of character-painting (27). A long accompanied recitative passes into an elaborate and effective Adagio, in which professions of love alternate with reproaches. The Andantino (3-8), which follows is lighter in tone, and well expresses alternations of repulsion and attraction. The oboes are employed with a charming effect of longing appeal to the words: "Cont. Lei mi chiàma?—Sandrina. Signor, nö. Lei ritoma?—Cont. Oibö, oibö!" Finally, the joy of the united pair flows forth in an Allegro, which gives full opportunity for display on the part of the singers. Especially to be admired is the art with which the intense and genuine expression of emotion is tempered by the timidity of the Count and the coquetry of Sandrina, in a happy union of the pathetic and the comic which keeps the whole within the limits of' opera buffa. The rapid winding-up of the plot in the recitative dialogue, and the short animated ensemble with which the opera concludes (28) are no doubt intended not to weaken the effect of the great duet.

The finales (12, 22) of the first and second acts are masterpieces; the separate characters act and react on each other OPERA BUFFA. [222] in a way which is admirably true to life. Two conditions are essential to the elevation of such pieces into musical works of art; important points in the action or the characters must be brought out by prominent motifs, and the fundamental idea of the situation must be grasped and maintained in one motif which shall serve as a clue to the whole.

The task of the musician is the combination and elaboration of the detached elements into an interdependent whole, in which the laws of musical and dramatic art are in unconscious harmony; the master makes good his claim to the title by the depth with which he grasps the idea, by the delicacy with which he apportions the claims of individuals to independence, and by the strength and truth with which he gives life to his creations. Mozart's genius amply satisfies all these conditions. When there are few characters, and they are consequently brought nearer together, the characteristics of each are sharper and more detailed; but when the relations of the characters to each other are more involved, the musical grouping becomes more careful, so that, just as in an architectural masterpiece, the parts are merged in the whole. Each motif has its own peculiar expression, but is capable of such manifold effects of light and shade, that an oft-used motif in a new combination is as effective as if it appeared for the first time.

The form and style of opera buffa are maintained in all essential points, but with great freedom of treatment. The usual means are employed of the repetition of a short phrase with increasing intensity, the parlando while the orchestra carries on the motif, the comic effect produced by rapid speaking, sudden pauses, strong contrasts, &c.; but to these are added many traits of original invention.

In the earlier operas the boy's skill in the management of accepted forms was what we had chiefly to notice; here for the first time we are amazed at the originality of his musical powers. The wealth of characteristic, well-moulded, well-rounded melodies is quite as surprising as the organic dependence in which they mutually stand related to each other, not merely joined together. This fertility is of course "LA FINTA GIARDINIERA"—ORCHESTRA. [223] more prominent as the development of the plot renders the musical elements more complicated; especially admirable is Mozart's power of giving character and suggestiveness to his melodies in their first and simplest form. One subject from the last Allegro but one of the first finale—[See Page Image] will not fail to remind the reader of one almost identical from the first finale of "Figaro." But if the mode of treatment of the simple motif in the two instances be compared, it will be clearly seen that inventive power does not consist merely in the combination of notes. That of the later opera is of course by far superior, but even the earlier leaves little to wish for in its wealth of harmonic variety, in its union with other subjects, and in the effect of climax produced by imitation in the several parts.

It may finally and with justice be maintained of the melodies of this opera that they, as well as the whole intellectual conception, are high above the ordinary level; their grace, delicacy, and purity—in short, their beauty—belongs to Mozart, and to him alone.

The orchestra is treated quite otherwise than in the opera seria. The individual peculiarity of each instrument is OPERA BUFFA. [224] brought out, and tone-colouring as a means of characterisation is delicately and skilfully employed. In Sandrina's cavatina (22), for instance, the fine effect of the oboe and bassoon in contrast to the violin is due to the individualities of the instruments; in Ramiro's song (18) the treatment of the bassoon is original; and in the first finale an oboe solo comes in with startling effect (the Munich oboist, Secchi, was very famous). 25 The horns are also frequently made the means of effective tone-colouring; twice (13, 26) four horns are employed in a minor key to heighten the effect of a dramatic climax. More important than these detached instances is the altered relation of the orchestra to the whole work. 26 It no longer serves as an accompaniment in the sense of sustaining the voices and filling up necessary pauses; it is no longer a mere adjunct to the vocal parts, but takes its share in the effective working of the whole, filling out details which the vocal parts leave imperfect, and obeying not so much the requirements of the vocalist as the conditions of artistic perfection. This altered relationship required an altered organisation; each component part of the orchestra must have a distinct existence, so that each, according to its place and kind, might contribute to the general effect. The single example of the treatment of the basses will serve to make this clear. Hitherto the basses had served merely as the fundamental of the melody, indispensable indeed, but often clumsy and insignificant; but here, without losing their character as the ground-work of harmonic elaboration, they have an independent movement; they serve not only to support the superincumbent mass, but their quickening power sets in motion and gives the impulse to its formation.

By the side of these many excellencies the too great length of most of the pieces, especially of the songs, is felt as a defect throughout; a defect due, no doubt, to the taste of the time and to the youth of the composer. The influence of the broader form of the opera seria, and the pleasure of the [225] public in the mere hearing of music, were combined with the fact that Mozart was not yet capable of that self-criticism which rejects all that is superfluous, even when it is good in itself.

It may well be conceived that the opera was performed with extraordinary success in Munich (1775), and that it soon attained pre-eminence among the most admired contemporary comic operas. Nissen informs us that it made little effect in Frankfort (1789); the clumsy German adaptation may have been in part to blame for this; but the chief cause was doubtless the altered taste of the public, brought about by the French operettas and Mozart's "Entführung."

THE last opera of the series we have been considering [225] is the festival opera, "Il Re Pastore," composed in honour of the Archduke Maximilian, at Salzburg, in 1775, to the text of Metastasio (208 K.).

The characters and plot are as follows: 1 —

Alessandro, re di Macedonia.

Aminta, pastorello, amante d' Elisa, che, ignoto a se stesso, si scuopre poi l' unico legittimo erede del regno di Sidone.

Elisa, nobile ninfa di Fenicia, dell' antica stirpe di Cadmo, amante d' Aminta.

Tamiry principessa fuggitiva, figliuola del tiranno Stratone; in abito di pastorella, amante di Agenore.

Agenore, nobile di Sidone, amico di Alessandro, amante di Tamiri.

Alexander having conquered Sidon and slain the tyrant Strabo, determines to place on the throne Abdalonymus, 2 son of the last rightful king, who has been secretly brought up as a shepherd under the name of Aminta, by a faithful dependent of his father.

[226]

At the opening of the piece we find him in the midst of his flocks, while Elisa brings him the joyful tidings of the probable consent of her parents to their union. She has scarcely left him when Alexander, conducted by Agenore, enters, in order to convince himself if Aminta is worthy of the throne he intends to offer him; Aminta's virtuous moderation stands every test. While he is watering his flocks there enters Tamiri, Strabo's daughter, disguised as a shepherdess; Agenore extols to her Alexander's generosity, and promises to intercede on her behalf. The assurance of his faithful love consoles her, and she resolves to await his answer, concealed by Elisa. Elisa now enters, bearing to Aminta her father's full consent to their union; in the midst of their transport, Agenore makes Aminta acquainted with his destiny, hands him the crown, and summons him to the presence of Alexander. The lovers pledge their faith anew with much rejoicing.

In the second act, Elisa and Tamiri come to the camp of Alexander, in order to see their lovers. Tamiri, unable to overcome her fear, withdraws; Elisa seeks in vain to speak to Aminta, Agenore informing her that Aminta is occupied with more important concerns, at the same time that he respectfully reminds Aminta, who is impatient to find Elisa, of his duties as a monarch. At last Alexander appears and receives the grateful homage of Aminta, who expresses most virtuous resolutions for his future rule. On Alexander expressing regret that Tamiri should shun his presence, Agenore takes the opportunity of acquainting Alexander with her near approach. To Agenore's dismay Alexander resolves to unite her with Aminta. With the idea, however, that this will conduce to Tamiri's happiness, Agenore controls his desires, and counsels Aminta to renounce Elisa. Before the unwilling lover is convinced, Tamiri and Elisa enter, and, seeing their lovers stand confused and silent, believe them to be faithless.

At the opening of the third act, Aminta, after many scruples, informs Agenore of his determination to fulfil the duty which he believes himself to owe to Alexander. These tidings are carried by Agenore to Elisa, who refuses to doubt Aminta's truth, and will not be persuaded that submission to her fate will best prove her love for Aminta. Agenore's own constancy is put to a severer test when Tamiri vehemently accuses him of having deserted her for Aminta's sake, but he remains firm.

Then there appears before Alexander, who is preparing for the celebration of the union, first Tamiri, who declares her love for Agenore, and refuses to break her faith with him, even for the sake of a throne; then Elisa, who tells the claims she has on Aminta's heart; and finally Aminta himself, dressed as a shepherd, returns his crown to Alexander, being unable to renounce Elisa's love. Moved by all this nobleness and devotion, Alexander unites the lovers, reinstates Aminta as King of Sidon, and promises to conquer another realm for Agenore.

"IL RE PASTORE," 1775. [227]

Metastasio wrote this opera in 1751 for performance at court by four maids of honour and a cavalier; 3 he paid due regard to fitting costumes, and to the virtue and nobility of each character. 4 The pains he took at the rehearsals were requited; 5 Bono's music was excellent, 6 the scenery and costumes most brilliant, the noble performers acquitted themselves to perfection, and all was applause and approbation. 7 No wonder that he recommended the piece to Farinelli as a suitable festival opera; 8 it has, in fact, been composed very often since. 9

It was considerably curtailed for representation at Salzburg. The second and third acts were compressed into one, whereby not only was the dialogue abridged, but several songs were omitted without serious injury to the text. There were other small alterations and some few additions, but nothing essential was disturbed. Instead of Aminta's first air (act 1, sc. 2) another was introduced with an accompanied recitative, and before the duet at the end of the first act an accompanied recitative was omitted. Instead of the short concluding chorus, a kind of finale was inserted, in which soli and tutti alternate. The part of Agenore was given to a tenor, 10 Aminta to the male soprano Consoli; beyond this we know nothing of the cast or of the performance.

Mozart's composition, of which the original score in two volumes of 284 pages has been preserved, has the same finish of execution and invention which was so marvellously seen in the "Finta Giardiniera"; but the conventionalities of form are far more of a hindrance here than in the previous MOZART'S "RE PASTORE." [228] work. No scope was allowed for dramatic force or true passion; the work must be kept strictly within the limits of the festival opera. The Salzburg singers too, seem to have preferred the beaten track to any extraordinary displays of skill.

This is most apparent in the tenor part of Alexander. His three songs, whose commonplace virtuous reflections give little scope for musical treatment, have, like the regular bravura songs, a long ritornello, bravura passages, the shake at the end, the usual cadenza. In details, the effort to metamorphose the form is apparent; the second part appears as a second subject, and the passages are made more interesting by their harmonic treatment, and by the prominence given to the accompaniment. The melodies are better built up, they have more musical substance; the accompaniment takes up detached portions of the chief melodies, and gives a firmer connection to the parts. The words of the first air (4) give occasion for some of the then favourite musical painting; lightning, thunder, and rain are depicted by the orchestra, but without undue prominence. The second air (9) is interesting through the obbligato treatment of the wind instruments, the flute competing with the voice in passages. Joh. Bapt. Becke (b. 1743), who had been trained under Wendling to become an admirable flautist, was summoned from Munich for this performance. The third air (13) is in the serious conventional style, not wanting in dignity.

More individuality is given to the parts of Aminta and Elisa; at first the prevailing element is pastoral, as was usual in festival operas. The overture, consisting of one movement (Molto allegro) leads directly to Aminta's first song (1), by a pleasant pastoral melody. It is a simple shepherd's song characterised by its 6-8 time, and by the flute and horn accompaniment. For the better contentment of the singer (the soprano Consoli from Munich), his second song is a genuine bravura (3). In its division into a brilliant Allegro aperto (4-4), and an elegant Grazioso (3-8), as well as in details, the old style is apparent; but all is so much freer, fuller, and, in spite of its fragmentary "IL RE PASTORE"—THE DIFFERENT PARTS. [229] construction, so much more connected, that one feels a new spirit floating through the obsolete forms. Aminta's last air (10), when he declares himself true to his love, shakes itself quite loose from the fetters. It has the rondo form; the principal theme, twice relieved by an interlude, recurs three times, and winds up with a coda. The beauty of this cantilene is enhanced by a violin solo (written doubtless for Brunetti) equally simple and tuneful in style. The muted strings accompany the principal subject with a slightly agitated passage; the wind instruments (two flutes, two English horns, two bassoons, and two horns) are treated independently, and as delicately and tenderly as the tone of the piece requires.

Elisa's first song (2) unites in a singular degree the pastoral with the bravura character: the noble lady depicts the happiness of living as a shepherdess near her beloved Aminta. The traditional form has been so skilfully modified, and an almost playful grace is so freshly and charmingly expressed, that this song may justly be placed on a level with some of Mozart's later concert songs. The second air (8) is more strictly according to rule; the situation does not lend itself to freedom of treatment, and Mozart has contented himself with composing a harmonious and effective song.

The duet between Elisa and Aminta at the close of the first act (7) is light and pleasing, surpassing former efforts of the same kind in its clever management of the voices and in the originality of its subject. It is a charming idea and an appropriate one, to carry on the subject of the Andante with altered rhythm into the Allegro.

The parts of Tamiri and Agenore are quite secondary, scarcely more than stop-gaps. Tamiri's first air (6) is a bravura song of the ordinary type, the second (11) is almost soubrette-like in its airy lightness. Agenore's first air (5) is tender and pleasing, not much in accord with the situation. His second air (12) is pathetic, in a minor key, and stands alone of its kind. Restless agitation is portrayed by a varied and striking harmony, emphasised by [230] strongly accented chords for the wind instruments—four horns besides oboes and bassoons. But neither the character of Agenore nor the moralising words give any opening for pathos.

The finale consists of a brilliant four-part tutti movement, which is repeated entire, or in part, several times; passages for single voices are inserted, alternating cleverly and with a pleasing effect.

Mozart's evident longing to break loose from the fetters of conventionality and tradition is nowhere more apparent than in the accompaniment and in the orchestral movements, where we find a fulness and freedom of thought hitherto only shown in detached passages. Even when the old fashion is retained of employing only oboes and horns, there is an evident appreciation of the special powers of the instruments expressed, it may be, in a few notes. The orchestra has its own significance, and Mozart turns to account his intimate knowledge of the orchestra of opera seria. Trifling as these instrumental effects may appear, the main point, that instrumental music was henceforth to take an active part both in serious and comic opera, was one of great importance in the history of their development.

WE must here cast a glance at a number of separate [230] songs composed by Mozart, either for insertion in operas or for performance at concerts.

The earliest of them, composed for the two Licenze at Salzburg (p. 99), and those belonging to the first Italian journey, call for no special remark. Yet there occurs in the air composed at Rome, "Se tutti i mali miei" (183 K.), a change of key produced by enharmomic progression which deserves to be noticed:— BUFFO SONGS, 1775-76. [231] [See Page Image] No such songs are known to belong to the years immediately following, but in 1775 we find several composed at Salzburg, probably for performance by foreign vocalists visiting the city. Two tenor airs belong to May, 1775. In one of them, described as "Aria buffa" (210 K.) the singer is supposed to be flattering some one to his face with the greatest fluency, while he makes all sorts of rude remarks aside:—

The orchestra maintains a single theme (Allegro assai) without intermission, and the voice is almost throughout parlando in rapid vivacity; the union of a certain amount of dignity with burlesque fluency of tongue is very comical, the whole song being simply conceived and easily and consistently worked out. This song could only have been meant for performance on the stage, and the second (209 K.), "Si mostra la sorte propizia all' amante," is scarcely of importance enough for a concert-room. It is the complaint of a bashful lover, but has so little pathos as to be only SONGS. [232] suitable for opera buffa. It is simple both in design and execution, and may have been inserted to suit the powers of some singer in the place of another song. It was no doubt also for insertion in an opera buffa that an air for Dorina (217 K.), "Voi avete un cor fidele," was composed (October 26, 1775); it is in the style of a soubrette, superior to those of its kind in the "Finta Giardiniera," and equal to Despina's songs in "Cosi fan tutti." An Andantino grazioso and an Allegro, the latter considerably elaborated, are both repeated, then a few bars of the Andantino recur, and the whole is wound up by rather a long Coda in allegro. The exact repetition of both movements makes the effect of the whole somewhat stiff, but the details are fresh, animated, and very characteristic.

The tone of melting tenderness at the beginning, the mocking parlando of the questions, and finally the fervency of the words, "Ah! non credo," are so strikingly expressed, and the whole effect is so cheerful and even droll, that we cannot fail to recognise the hand of a master of his art. The subjects and the passages in the allegro are neat and graceful, and the orchestral parts are lively and appropriate.

A tenor song (256 K.), "Clarice cara mia sposa," composed for Signor Palmini, September, 1776, is a true theatrical buffo air, and bears lively testimony to Mozart's comic talent. A Capitano prates nonsensically, with much swagger, of how he will have his own way in spite of everybody; a Don Timoteo seeks in vain to interrupt the flow of his talk, which seems to run over in an unintermittent succession of triplets falling like heavy rain, and, as it were, drenching the hearer in an instant.

The monotonous parlando is provided with just so much of melody as to indicate that it is sung, not spoken. The orchestra maintains a very simple subject—[See Page Image] with varied harmonies, in a light, even sketchy manner, but with considerable musical interest. Even the few words in ALTO SONG, 1776. [233] recitative, thrown in by Don Timoteo, do not allow the singer to take breath, and only serve to make the next paroxysm still more comical.

Another song, composed in the same month for the alto Fortini, may have been intended for performance at a concert. Mozart justly considered this song worthy to live, for he writes from Vienna (April 12, 1783) to beg that the rondo for an alto voice may be sent to him which he had composed when the Italian troupe were at Salzburg. The idea is the usual one of the leave-taking of a disconsolate lover. The introduction is a not very long, but an expressive recitative. The transition from this to the air itself is charming and very touching; it is the involuntary expression of the pain of parting welling out from the innermost depths of the heart:—[See Page Image]

Both the movements of the song, Andante moderato and Allegro assai, are repeated; then the Andante recurs for the third time, makes its way through an Allegretto to the Allegro assai, and from this a subject is selected, which leads through an effective crescendo to a pause on the SONGS. [234] seventh. Then the opening bars of the Andante are repeated, stop short, and the song is rapidly concluded 'by the Allegro. The hesitation and irresolution of the lover, who cannot bring himself to depart, find ready expression in this change of movement. A deep, calm, and restrained emotion, corresponding admirably to the character of an alto voice, is well portrayed by the simple, unornamented song, interrupted only by the stronger accents of intense grief. The orchestral accompaniment is so managed as skilfully to heighten the peculiar effect of an alto voice.

Repeated mention is made in the letters of the year 1777, and afterwards, of a scena composed for Madame Duschek. 1 In the summer of 1777, Josepha Duschek, a singer and pianoforte-player of celebrity, and a young, vivacious woman, came for a visit from Prague to Salzburg. The foundation was laid of a friendship with Wolfgang, of which we shall frequently have occasion to speak. The scena in question is probably the grand aria of Andromeda (272 K.), "Ah, lo previdi," belonging to August, 1776, not long before his departure from Salzburg, and one of the greatest compositions of the kind. An agitated recitative is followed by a long, elaborate Allegro, expressive of the passion of a brave and noble mind. Scorn for perfidy overpowers even pain at the loss of the beloved one; tones which seem to scorch and wither pour forth like glowing metal on the betrayer; then comes a subject which has already made itself heard more than once in the orchestra as a cry of suppressed pain, and this leads to a gentler mood; grief for the lost love is expressed in a beautiful recitative, and dies away into calm and composed melancholy with a Cavatina, which concludes the scena.

The psychological truth of the details, the blending of the transitions, the unity of the tone, are qualities quite as much to be admired in this song as the musical originality and skill "AH, LO PREVIDI," 1777—LIEDER. [235] displayed in its composition. The last movement is perhaps a little spun out; although the strain of long-continued violent emotion seems to require a correspondingly gradual cessation.

The orchestra is as simply managed as in the earlier songs; for wind instruments only horns, bassoons and oboes are employed, with, more seldom, flutes; in the recitatives there are only stringed instruments. 2

It is indicative of the taste of the time that among so many vocal compositions the song proper (lied) seldom or never appears. Five very simple Lieder with clavier accompaniments belong to the earlier Salzburg epoch (147-151 K.); they are more pedantic than any other of the compositions, and interest us chiefly through the words by Günther and Canitz, which Mozart has selected for composition.

HE years of Mozart's development at Salzburg were fruitful not only of operatic compositions, but of others which arose from the circumstances of his residence there. First among these stands church music.

Church music had long been fostered at Salzburg, and was especially encouraged by Archbishop Sigismund; his severe and world-contemning piety caused him to keep the service of the church continually before the eyes both of singers and composers. The prospect of a moderate pension induced many clever artists to settle in Salzburg, in spite of the poor payment they received for their services. Sigismund's successor,

Hieronymus, extended his parsimony even to the members of the Kapelle, whom he estranged by his overbearing manners; on the whole, music rather declined than advanced under his rule, 3 although he cared more than Sigismund for the splendour of his court. 4

FIFTEEN choristers [235]were maintained at the cost of the Archbishop in the Kapellhaus, and educated by special instructors. They afterwards entered the choir as singers or passed into the service of the court; if they showed extraordinary talent, they were sent to finish their training in Italy, and then took their place as solo singers. 3 Archbishop Sigismund allowed the male sopranos to die out, and did not replace them with others; on the other hand he sent the daughter of the cathedral organist, Maria Magd. Lipp, to be educated as a singer in Italy, and on her return in 1762 he appointed her court singer; she soon afterwards married Michael Haydn, lately arrived at Salzburg. In 1778 Hieronymus again took a male soprano into his service, Ant. Ceccarelli,CHURCH MUSIC. [236] a singer of moderate powers and bad moral character.

The orchestra belonging to the choir was an ample one for the time, and was strengthened by a trumpet band for the support of the voices in the church. There were further two bands of six trumpets and drums, which did not properly belong to the court, but to the chamberlain's office, and which ranked between the equerries and the lackeys. 4 But no one was taken into this service who could not also, at need, strengthen the stringed instruments.

In 1762, when Lolli was kapellmeister, and Leopold Mozart vice-kapellmeister, Joh.Michael Haydn 5 (1737-1806), the younger brother of Joseph, was appointed concertmeister and director of the orchestra, on the recommendation of a MICHAEL HAYDN. [237] nephew of Archbishop Sigismund, at Grosswardein, where Haydn had been kapellmeister since 1757. The personal intercourse between the families of Haydn and Mozart was not over friendly. Haydn was fond of sitting over a glass of beer or wine, which was all the more reprehensible in the sight of the temperate and conscientious Mozart, since it caused frequent neglect of duty.

"Who do you think," he writes to Wolfgang (December 29,1777), "is appointed organist at the Holy Trinity? Herr Haydn! Every one laughs. He is an expensive organist; after every litany he drinks a quartern of wine, and he sends Lipp to the extra services, who drinks too." (June 29, 1778): "This afternoon Haydn played the organ for the litany and the Te Deum (at which the Archbishop was present), but so badly that we were all horrified.... Haydn will drink himself to death soon; or at least, being lazy enough already, he will become still lazier the older he gets." 6

The conduct of Frau Haydn also must have been objectionable. Wolfgang writes mockingly to Bullinger (August 7, 1778): "It is quite true that Haydn's wife is ill; she has carried her rigours too far; there are few like her! I only wonder that she has not lost her voice long ago through her constant scourgings, wearing of sackcloth, prolonged fasts, and midnight prayers." Neither was Haydn's cultivation such as to cause L. Mozart to wish for nearer intercourse between the families. "I should like to hear him speak Italian in Italy," he writes (December 4, 1777); "the people would certainly say, 'Questo è un vero Tedesco!"' 7 Personal difference and trifling jealousies, such as easily arise in small communities, may have had some influence on this unfavourable criticism of Michael Haydn; it did not extend, however, to his merits as an artist. It is true that L. Mozart was of opinion when Michael Haydn, in 1787, composed the opera "Andromeda e Perseo," that he had no talent for CHURCH MUSIC. [238] dramatic music, and that his principal songs might have been written for a choir-boy. But he praised, in strong terms, the entr'acte music for Zaire, which Haydn had composed in 1777, and analysed it carefully, telling his son that the Archbishop had done him the honour to say to him at table, that he could not have believed Haydn capable of composing such music; and that instead of beer he should drink nothing but Burgundy. Haydn received a reward of six kronthaler (October 1 and October 9, 1777). But when L. Mozart writes to his son: "Herr Haydn is a man whose musical merits you will not deny" (September 24, 1778), he is referring to his church music, which Wolfgang was in the habit of copying for study. Writing from Vienna, he asks for "small paper, Eberlin's Counterpoint, bound in blue, and some of Haydn's things"; 8 and shortly after (March 12, 1783): "The 'Tres sunt' (M. Haydn's) is in score, in my handwriting." He wanted these things for the Sunday performances at Van Swieten's, and asked also for Michael Haydn's latest fugue. "The 'Lauda Sion,'" he writes (March 12, 1783), "was a great success; the fugue, 'In Te Domine speravi,' was much admired, as also the 'Ave Maria' and 'Tenebrae.'" Among Mozart's remains were found two fugues, 'Pignus futuræ gloriæ,' copied by his own hand from Michael Haydn's Litanies.

ADLGASSER—CHURCH FORMS. [239]

The cathedral organist, appointed in 1751, was Anton Cajetan Adlgasser (1728—1777), a pupil of Eberlin, who had been sent by the Archbishop to study in Italy, a first-rate organ-player and accompanist, whose sacred compositions were afterwards performed and highly appreciated at Salzburg. Less remarkable was the second organist, Franz Ign. Lipp, Haydn's father-in-law.

The kapellmeister and organist did not confine themselves to conducting performances of church music: they made it a point of honour to provide suitable music for special festival occasions. At such time new compositions were considered indispensable; indeed, throughout the year a constant variety of music was sought to be provided. This activity in church music was of the greatest service to young composers, who never wanted an opportunity for bringing out new compositions, nor for learning by hearing and comparing.

It was not the less beneficial in the way of training that they were obliged to keep within the limits of certain clearly defined forms, and to be content with the often scanty means which they found ready to hand. Through the influence of transmitted customs and individual peculiarities, as well as of the taste of those in authority, local traditions grew up, whose narrow rules hindered freedom of development. Such control is most irksome in church matters, wherein all, even what is in itself unimportant, must be considered as partaking of the sanctity of the whole. The counterbalancing gain of such training is technical finish, the indispensable foundation for the development of genius, with which alone can any effort to break loose from what is false in tradition be successful.

Mozart found the rules and forms of church music as clearly defined as those of the opera. Both had been formed in the Neapolitan school, and the impulses given up each had been in the same direction. The turning-point was the introduction of melodies which had their own significance as expressions of emotion, without regard to their harmonic or contrapuntal treatment. No sooner had melody gained recognition in opera and cantata, as the natural and CHURCH MUSIC. [240] legitimate form of musical expression, than it made a way for itself into the church by means of oratorio. The simple grandeur of the older church music (particularly that of the Roman school, with Palestrina as its representative) depended chiefly on the fact that the chorus of voices was treated as an organic whole, of which no one part could be recognised as a distinct entity apart from the rest. The impression made by such music resembles that of the sea. Wave follows upon wave, and each one seems to be like the last; yet underlying the apparent monotony there exists an ever-varied life, an invincible strength, manifesting itself alike in peaceful calm and raging storm, and filling the mind with a sense of sublimity and grandeur, without satiety and without fatigue. But so soon as one melody was distinguished above the rest the union and equality of the voices was disturbed. Separate voices became more or less prominent as occasion required; and it could not fail to follow that the other voices should be employed merely to fill up and support the principal melody. A certain amount of independence and character might indeed be given to the accompanying voices by skilful management, but the principle remains unaltered, so long as a melody and its accompaniment are in question.

The change became more marked when instrumental music gained admission into the church. At first the organ and trumpets were employed merely to support and strengthen the voices. But when stringed instruments, and by degrees the various wind instruments of the orchestra, came into use in churches, they gradually adopted in church music, as in secular, the part of accompaniment to the voices. This tendency was most apparent of course in solo singing; but a manner of orchestral accompaniment to the choruses was gradually elaborated which could not fail to influence the treatment of the voice parts. The use of the severest contrapuntal method had hitherto been considered an essential condition and embellishment of church music; but on this point also an alteration of opinion and taste gained gradual ground.

The perfection of contrapuntal treatment, consisting in the absolute freedom and independence of the several parts, COUNTERPOINT IN CHURCH MUSIC. [241] with their due correlation, can only be obtained by strict obedience to well-defined laws; added to which must be a firm conception of some simple fundamental idea whose many-sided development shall give unity and cohesion to the whole work. This form of composition is therefore peculiarly appropriate to the delivery of serious and weighty ideas; it is however but a form, and can be endued with life and significance only by the matter which it contains, and by the spirit which animates it. In old times the madrigal served to illustrate contrapuntal forms in secular music; and even in the present day canons and fugues, sometimes with comic effect, sometimes giving expression to very varied emotions, are often so skilfully constructed that the uninitiated have no suspicion of the artistic learning with the effect of which they are charmed. Although counterpoint is in itself neither spiritual nor ecclesiastical, it is conceivable that in proportion as secular music freed itself from the trammels, the error should arise of imagining severity of form and structure to be peculiarly appropriate to church music. This identification of counterpoint with ecclesiastical ideas caused its development to proceed side by side with those other forms which had made good their footing in church music. The opposition which was felt to exist between severe methods and methods not severe led to a compromise; certain parts of the liturgical text were treated contrapuntally, and others freely. The proportions depended greatly on personal and local influences, but the main points of the division were decided by the Neapolitan school.

The moral tendency of this change of construction must not be overlooked. The free treatment of melody gave to subjective emotion, with its ever-varying alternations, a suitable method of musical expression, and an art which was developing in this direction must have had extraordinary influence. The effort to make church music subject to this influence was the necessary consequence of a newly awakened life in art. The musician felt himself impelled to represent religious emotion in its full strength and truth, and with all the means at his command; the liturgy called forth the expression of the liveliest and most passionate emotion, it CHURCH MUSIC. [242] offered opportunities for representing the most vivid dramatic situations; even the glory of worship called on its votaries to bring the splendour of music, as well as of painting and sculpture, into the Divine service. But the direction taken by the intellectual progress of that time, especially in Italy, was fraught with the dangers which invariably threaten an art which is struggling to free itself from tradition. The Church was tolerant towards the aspirations of art, so long as they afforded an effective means for her glorification, but she sternly repressed any efforts to break loose from the fetters of her ordinances and customs. On the other hand, men rejoiced in what had been so easily and rapidly gained, and satisfied themselves with the superficial freedom which they had attained. Proportionally was the development of a formalism in accordance with the Italian character, which seeks for beauty always in set forms, and demanded the adoption of such forms by church music. The opera was the model; thence sprang the moral and artistic element which became manifest in the forms of church music, appealing not so much to the faith of the congregation as to the taste of musical connoisseurs. Any attempt to transport operatic forms directly into church music was forbidden by the liturgical form of Divine service, to which the music must be subordinate. But the connection was severed with the old church modes from which ancient church music borrowed its subjects, treating them after a long since obsolete tone-system; and a merely devotional musical symbolism was renounced for the freedom of original creation. For though subjects were borrowed in later times from the old church modes, they lost their significance when detached, and were, besides, treated according to the new lights. Finally, the sway of the singer was mighty in church music as elsewhere. The habit of delighting in the finished performances of the vocalist was united with the idea that he who could most fully satisfy the prevailing taste was also the most worthy to serve the Most High and to exalt the glory of worship. We shall therefore find the church music of the latter half of the eighteenth century composed of the same materials as operatic music, and exercising much the same effect.

CHURCH MUSIC IN GERMANY. [243]

The same influence which had been won by Italian operatic music in Germany penetrated to the churches of Catholic Germany, and attained to complete sovereignty. But there was a difference, important, though not at the time generally or consciously felt. The conception and mode of expression of Italian church music was, although secularised, yet in its essence national, and in its appeals to religious emotion it might count upon universal comprehension and sympathy.

But transplanted to Germany both the ideas and their mode of execution were strange, and could only be adopted after a preliminary artistic training; what in Italy had grown up in the course of national development was transmitted to Germany as mere form. The delicate sense of beauty and of grace, the excitable, passionate nature of the Italians, could not be transplanted, and the external adjuncts were even more superficially treated than on the soil from which they sprang. Contrapuntal work, especially the fugue, was haunted by the school traditions of church usages, which conduced to a spiritless formalism of routine. Thus, carelessness and pedantry, superficiality and dulness were combined, and church music declined more rapidly and visibly than the opera. The difference between the true essence and its extinct form is the more apparent and significant the deeper it lies; and to this must be added the fact that the continuous demand for church music' gave rise to the production of a mass of inferior work, from which the opera was preserved in deference to the taste of the public. Under these circumstances it was impossible even for a surpassing genius to do more than distinguish himself in some particulars; the efforts of an individual after thorough-going reform could only be successful supported by the spirit of the age and of the nation. 9

This general position held by church music was modified in different regions by local peculiarities of the liturgy, by the tastes of church authorities, and by the differences in the CHURCH MUSIC. [244] musical forces at command. The peculiar circumstances under which Mozart wrote in Salzburg are described by himself in a letter to Padre Martini (September 4, 1776): 10 —

I live in a place where music prospers but little, although we have some good musicians, and some especially good composers of thorough knowledge and taste. The theatre suffers for want of singers; we have few male sopranos, and are not likely to have more, for they require high pay, and over-liberality is not our weak point. I busy myself with writing church and chamber music, and we have two capital contrapuntists, Haydn and Adlgasser. My father is kapellmeister at the metropolitan church, which gives me the opportunity of writing as much as I like for the church. But as my father has been thirty-six years in the service of the court, and knows that the Archbishop does not care to have people of an advanced age about him, he takes things quietly and devotes himself chiefly to literature, which has always been his favourite study. Our church music differs widely and increasingly from that of Italy.

A mass, with Kyrie, Gloria, Credo, the Sonata at the Epistle, the Offertorium or Motett, Sanctus and Agnus Dei, must not last longer than three-quarters of an hour, even on festivals when the Archbishop himself officiates. This kind of composition requires special study. And yet the mass must have all the instruments, trumpets, drums, &c. Ah, if we were not so far from each other, how much I should have to tell you!

We have further information on the arrangements made for church music in the cathedral. 11 "The cathedral contains a large organ at the back by the entrance, four side organs in front of the choir, and a little choir organ below the choir where the choristers sit. The large organ is only used on grand occasions and for preludes; during the performance one of the four side organs is played, generally that next to the altar on the right side, where the solo singers and basses are. Opposite, by the left-side organ, are the violinists, &c., and on the two other sides are two choruses of trumpets and drums. The lower choir organ and double-bass join in when required." 12

MOZART'S MASSES. [245]

Among Mozart's compositions for the Church, his masses. 13 by reason of their importance in Divine service, take the first place. 14 In the divisions of the several parts, we find him following in the beaten track of the Neapolitan school. The different parts of the text coincide with the prescribed pauses made by the officiating priest, but are very differently worked out. 15 Where the composer has free scope, the separate sections are usually treated as independent pieces, with regular alternations of solo and chorus. But such elaborate masses were only performed on solemn occasions (Missa solemnis) or through the preference of an influential personage—they took up too much time for the regular service.

In the short mass (Missa brevis) the larger divisions were treated in the main as a connected musical movement of which the separate sections were detached indeed, but not independent of each other; the degree of connection is of course very varied.

The thrice-repeated cry, "Kyrie eleison! Christe eleison! Kyrie eleison!" is regularly developed into a lengthy movement. It was formerly the custom 16 to prefix a short, slow and solemn movement on the words "Kyrie eleison," to an agitated more elaborate one 17 (49, 65,66, K.); but afterwards the whole became one movement. The prayer for the mercy of God is animated, and though devoid of depth, never sinks to mere trifling. A more serious mood is generally indicated by the severer contrapuntal treatment of the voices (192, 194, 262, K). The words "Christe eleison" are regularly accentuated, usually with an expression of beseeching melancholy, and often by solo voices. The solo voices and choruses generally alternate in the Kyrie.

The Gloria 18 is divided into several movements, CHURCH MUSIC. [246] conformably to the successive invocations of which it consists. The character of the whole is one of exulting praise, the tone being indicated by the opening words, "Gloria in excelsis Deo." The effort to express the solemn dignity of divine worship by external splendour, is apparent in the animated, fervent, and often stately progress of this movement. The opening subject is revived at appointed places, usually at the Quoniam, and forms a connecting thread throughout the piece. A solo is often introduced at the words "Lau-damus Te and, even without much intentional expression, the four commas of the words, "Laudamus Te, benedicimus Te, adoramus Te, glorificamus Te," form natural pauses, and regulate the musical and rhythmical division of the passage.

But the contrast of solo and chorus is determined less by the sense of the words than by the necessities of art, requiring variations of light and shade. As a rule, the words of highest import are given to the chorus; the solos serve for ornament, or as a preparation for a chorus of renewed and increased strength.

The central point of this part of the mass is formed by the thrice-repeated cry:—

Here we have a mood expressed of deep agitation, offering excellent opportunity for musical treatment, both in feeling and form. The "Qui tollis" is the nucleus of all Mozart's Glorias; he enunciates it simply enough through the chorus, relying for effect on the charm of rich and original harmonies, as bold in conception as they are clear and decided in rendering. The words which follow, "Quoniam Tu solus sanctus, Tu solus Dominus, Tu solus altissimus, Jesu Christe," are GLORIA—CREDO. [247] treated as a song of praise, 19 in order to relieve the gloom of the "Qui tollis," and to give stronger emphasis to what is to follow. For the last words, "cum Sancto Spiritu in gloria Dei Patris, Amen," are treated without regard to the context, as an independent fugue. In Mozart's early masses the fugue is short (49, 65, K.), but they soon became long and often elaborate (60,115,139,167,192, 262, K.). Archbishop Hieronymus, however, had an aversion to fugues; and in Mozart's later masses the Gloria came to an end in a short choral passage (220, 257, 258, 259, K.).

The Credo offered the greatest difficulties to musical treatment. A long movement, whose several parts are dependent on one emphatic verb placed at the beginning, cannot be musically rendered in such a way that the connection remains apparent to the hearer; each phrase disturbs the grammatical construction of the period. In order to overcome this difficulty the word "credo" was repeated at fitting points (192,257, K). 20 But although logical requirements are thus to a certain degree satisfied, the repeated "credo" does not fit into the grammatical structure, and the contrast between the spoken and the musical expression is in reality only intensified.

In close connection with this is the further difficulty that the delarations of faith belong essentially to the domain of speculation, and can rarely work directly on the feelings; neither does the form into which they are thrown incite the fancy to musical expression. These difficulties might be surmounted at a time when music with all her powers and capacities placed herself unreservedly at the disposal of worship, accepting the prescribed words with perfect faith in their sanctity, and only anxious to give them their fullest and truest expression. There was as little question of CHURCH MUSIC. [248] individuality in art as in faith; the unquestioned law of ecclesiastical infallibility impressed on every work the stamp of the subjection of art to religion. Even the forms of the music followed the ancient and hallowed traditions of the cultus, and embodied ecclesiastical formulas in strict counterpoint. But as by degrees subjective emotion and expression gained ground in church music, and as the old severity of form gave place to a wealth of means and expedients, the ecclesiastical text fell under the criticism of the musicians, who subjected it to the test of the conditions required for the production of a perfect work of art. Composers learned to look upon the Credo as material to be worked up into an artistic musical form, even when it did not lend itself easily to the process. A sort of type was gradually evolved, that was closely adhered to in many particulars. One such, for instance, is the strong accentuation of death in the words, "judicare vivos et mortuos," and "resurrectionem mortuo-rum," the tone-painting of the "descendit de coelis," the repetition of the "non" in the words "cujus regni non erit finis," and others of the same kind. Such an evident tendency to emphasise details at the cost of the whole, only shows how composers took refuge in whatever was capable of musical expression, in order to extricate themselves as far as they could from the burden of the rest.

The main passages on which the musical strength of the Credo was concentrated are those in which the mention of the incarnation, crucifixion, and resurrection of Christ appeal most vividly to the senses and the imagination. It had become customary to connect the words, "Qui propter nos homines et propter nostram salutem descendit de coelis," whether made prominent by solo singing or not, with those which preceded them, and to make a pause with "Et incarnatus." 21 These words are generally rendered by a tender solo voice, as if they would fain hover round the cradle of the heavenly Child, to express the gratitude of mankind for his incarnation. Then solemnly and sadly the chorus depicts CREDO. [249] the deep pain of "Crucifixus etiam pro nobis sub Pontio Pilato, passus et sepultus est," breaking out at "Et resur-rexit" &c., into joyful trust in the resurrection. In all this Mozart's wonderful genius succeeded in awakening imagination and emotion which, again, his artistic moderation knew how to calm; his firm grasp of his art enabling him to produce the most striking effect with the simplest means, and to gather up the details, so that each sustains and elevates the other without injuring the consistency of the whole Credo. This unusual combination of qualities gives to this part of the mass a high degree of artistic finish even when the treatment is most simple and confined.

The words "Et in Spiritum Sanctum" are usually given to a solo voice,—more, however, from custom than for any special signification of their own (49, 65, 139, K.); they are introduced by a long instrumental prelude (262 K.). Apart from the interests of the Church, which might have some influence here, the necessity could not but be felt for a strong contrast between this and the following passages. For what follows, "Et unam sanctam catholicam et apos-tolicam ecclesiam," &c., is given by the whole strength of the chorus. The last words, "et vitam venturi saeculi. Amen," is again treated as a fugue. Here, again, we find first a short fugued movement (49, 65, 192, K.), but later a long and cleverly worked-out fugue (139, 167, 262, K.), until the influence of Archbishop Hieronymus led to the conclusion of the Credo, like the Gloria, in a short animated chorus (257, 258, 259, 275, K.).

Various methods were employed to gather the phrases of the Creed into a consistent musical work. The repetition of the word "credo" (167, 257, K.), even in places where it somewhat disturbs the grammatical construction, serves to combine the musical texture of the movements

The periodical recurrence of the musical phrase conduces to careful mechanism, and gives opportunity for variety and increased intensity in the treatment of the subject. Apart from this, unity is provided for by a pregnant rhythmical passage or a carefully finished subject which marks the beginning of the Credo, and underlies its several divisions, CHURCH MUSIC. [250] forming a sort of background from which the more impressive images stand out.

The appropriate elaboration of this subject is the special task of the artist, and the text is to be considered only as a point de départ to it. The mode of treatment varies and is sometimes contrapuntal, sometimes harmonic; in one part the voices predominate, in another the instruments, in which latter case the then favourite running passage for the violins is frequently employed.

The general character of church music was more prominently displayed in the Creed than elsewhere. An animated and elevated frame of mind was vividly portrayed, with more cheerfulness and brilliancy than solemnity or earnest devotion, and only at moments does the music show a consciousness of the deep significance of the text. Mozart pays tribute to his time; but his artistic nature did not allow him to sink into triviality or commonplace; symmetry, beauty, and delicacy are never found wanting. The remaining sections of the mass lend themselves more readily to musical treatment. They express deep and universal sentiments in words as simple as those of the Kyrie, and musical both in sound and suggestion.

The Sanctus falls naturally into three well-defined parts. The first words, "Sanctus, Dominus Deus Sabaoth!" intended to convey an impression of the most exalted sublimity, are generally treated as a solemn introduction to the more animated and fervent words, "Pleni sunt coli et terra gloria Tua." Agitation rises into joyful emotion in the Osanna, to which the form of a short fugal movement is usually given.

The Benedictus, 22 on the other hand, strives to express the secret thanksgiving of the heart at the coming of the Lord. A mild fervour penetrates the simple words, which seem to cast illumining beams on every side. Mozart's artistic originality has so clearly stamped the impress of his genius on the traditional form of the Benedictus that his interpretation of it has become the customary one. It is, as a rule, given BENEDICTUS. [251] to solo voices, to which more prominence is given here than elsewhere. Now and then single voices (65,139,194, K.), but more often all the four—now alternately, now in unison—announce the message of consolation; obbligato organ accompaniments serve still further to mark the prominence given to this movement (259 K.). It has a charming effect (258 K.) when the chorus recurring at intervals during the solos enunciates with sustained expression the word "benedictus." The Osanna is usually repeated either entire or abridged from the Sanctus, but it is sometimes interwoven into the Benedictus (139, 262, K.)

The last movement falls naturally into two strongly contrasting sections. The first, expressing the sentiments of contrition, of anguished appeal for mercy, was treated with great partiality. The cry, "Agnus Dei, qui tollis peccata mundi," and the prayer, "miserere nobis," furnish a natural grouping not seldom employed for alternations of solo and chorus; the mood expressed is very favourable to musical treatment.

The "Dona nobis pacem" is in complete contrast, and in no movement of the mass is the alteration in the spirit of church music more apparent. The peace which is prayed for is vividly represented, and just as vivid is the tone of cheerful confidence with which the prayer is offered. The devout hearer was to be dismissed with a pleasant impression on his mind, and therefore the deep earnestness of this petition for peace was sacrificed in order to produce a feeling of self-satisfied enjoyment. The music of the Dona maintains throughout this cheerful tone, and though Mozart's variety and grace are as marked and effective here as elsewhere, even with him earnestness and depth are rarely to be met with.

We may now conclude this general description with a glance in detail on Mozart's masses. We have already spoken of his first attempts. Some unfinished masses, presumably the result of his studies under Padre Martini, exist, bearing date 1771 and 1772. The furthest advanced, in C major (115 K.), breaks off at the ninth bar of the Sanctus. It is accompanied only by a figured organ bass, CHURCH MUSIC. [252] and is strictly treated with the exception of the two fugues; it is worked out in severe contrapuntal form almost throughout, as the Kyrie, introduced by five bars of Adagio, will serve to show:—[See Page Image]

MASS IN C MAJOR, 1772. [253]

The whole work reminds us forcibly of Padre Martini's church compositions, and it is not surprising that the hand of a learner should be here apparent. A Mass in F major (116 K.), which breaks off at the words "sedet ad dexteram patris," is of the same kind, as well as a Kyrie in C major (221 K.). An Osanna in C major (223 K.) and a Credo ("in remissionem" to "mortuorum") belonging to it seem also to have been studies in counterpoint.

A Mass in C major (139 K.), probably belonging to the year 1772, is an effort in quite another direction. Every means is employed to produce an extraordinary effect, and it may be conjectured that this, like the Pater Dominicus mass, was composed for some special occasion. 23 Every section is treated as a detached independent movement.

The Kyrie begins with a slow pathetic passage in C minor, followed by an animated allegro in C major 3-4, and by the Christe eleison as a solo quartet, after which the Kyrie is repeated. 24 The solo voices are much used in different combinations, apart from the short passages inserted between the choruses. Laudamus is a duet for soprano and alto, Domine a duet for tenor and bass, Quoniam a soprano solo, Et incarnatus a duet for soprano and alto, Et in spiritum a tenor solo, and Benedictus a soprano solo, to which the chorus sings Osanna. Even the Agnus Dei begins with a tenor solo followed by a chorus; the last appeal before the Dona is given to the solo quartet. These solo movements are well rounded, and are both preceded and followed by long symphonies; the effort to produce a pleasing effect is apparent in the whole work, and a moderate amount of operatic bravura is not disdained. This brings into stronger relief the pathos which is given to every passage capable of it. The Qui tollis, Crucifixus, and Agnus, as well as the Kyrie, are in the CHURCH MUSIC. [254] minor key; striking harmonies are emphasised by means of the accompaniment, and three trumpets contribute to the orchestral effects. The solemn Crucifixus—[See Page Image] MASS SS. TRINITATIS, 1773. [255] follows in evident contrast immediately upon the soprano solo—[See Page Image] whereupon the chorus and orchestra, with three trumpets, fall in.

But the youthful master does not neglect the display of his skill in counterpoint. Besides some few instances of more or less elaborate imitation, the two customary fugues, the first on the theme—[See Page Image] the second "et vitam" are furnished with two subjects and every requisite for complete fugues. It is true that the strongly contrasting original ideas exist only as such, and form no united whole, so that we are all the more struck by the conventional treatment of the greater part of the work; but it must be conceded, notwithstanding, that progress has been made, and that the power is making itself felt which, with a wider field, shall produce better and more original work.

The mass composed in 1773 "In honorem SS. Trinitatis" (167 K.) is for chorus alone, without any solo movements: it displays no very high aim, but earnestness and ability throughout. The Kyrie is long and elaborate, without any sustained subject. In the Gloria the voices sustain the harmony, accompanied by a lively violin passage. The Credo is interesting through the persistent attempt to mould it into a firm musical organism. Three motifs occur quite at the beginning, apportioned in different combinations to the voices, viz., a rhythmical, characteristic passage—[See Page Image] a more melodious phrase— CHURCH MUSIC. [256] and a running passage:—[See Page Image]

MASS SS. TRINITATIS, 1773. [257]

These three subjects form the essential substance of the Credo, the first, with changing harmonies, forming the root whence the others spring at fitting places, by which means the due expression of the words and the musical exigences of the composition are alike provided for. The continuous agitation is only once interrupted, at the short but grave and dignified "Et incarnatus est," and at the words "Et in Spiritum Sanctum." These points are emphasised by their separation from the rest through a long symphony, and by a digressive mode of treatment which reminds one of a solo. Towards the end of the broadly elaborated fugue, "Et vitam," the violins return to the first motif of the Credo, the voices take up the second motif with the "Amen," and the violins, asserting the supremacy of the first, bring the whole to a conclusion.

The Benedictus is unusually grave for a chorus, but is relieved by the easy grace of the violins. The thematic treatment of the principal subject of the Dona—[See Page Image] gives it firmness and consistency; the accompaniment becomes more prominent in the middle, and the admirably well-sustained conclusion is dignified in mood and expression.

The Mass in F major (192 K.), composed on June 24,1774, is the work of a finished artist, and has rightly been placed CHURCH MUSIC. [258] next after the Requiem. 25 The whole mass, which reminds us of the finest examples of the older Neapolitan school, is in the strictest form of composition, none of the smaller sections forming an independent movement; the most delicate use is made of the simplest materials. The chorus and solos alternate throughout, the solo voices (never concerted) supplying the finer shadows to the chorus, which in return serves for response or repetition and conclusion. The accompaniment consists only of a bass (figured for the organ) and two violins, but it is independently worked out and effective both in tone-colouring and as a contrast to the voices.

Every section of the mass is in counterpoint, and shows the firm hand of a master. The unity of the whole and of the several parts, which is the necessary consequence of this musical method, is apparent here to a surprising degree. The parts combine to express and dilate upon a well-defined idea, the separate features of which are not thrown together arbitrarily or by chance. A subject which in one place is merely indicated or foreshadowed becomes in another the main subject; in short, the independence of each separate part produces the uniform clear texture of the whole. Thus the Gloria begins with an important subject for the soprano—[See Page Image] MASS IN P MAJOR, 1774. [259] which is the groundwork of the whole movement, and—now entire and unaltered, now abridged or modified—appears in different positions as Cantus firmus; while the remaining parts, treated contrapuntally, give due emphasis to each change of mood, until the whole concludes with a grand Amen in unison. The same thing occurs in the Credo. The link here is a motif—[See Page Image] which, borrowed from the intonation of the Magnificat or of the Gloria in the third tone, has been often employed, by Al. Scarlatti, 26 for instance, in a mass, and by Michael Haydn in a gradual (Qui sedes, No. 3), as Alleluia. Mozart has made frequent use of it. We find it again in the Sanctus of another mass (257 K.) in a Symphony in B flat major (319 K.) composed in 1779, in a pianoforte Sonata in £ flat major, composed in 1785, each time easily treated as a connecting subject, until it finally appears as the theme of the last movement of the Symphony in C major (551 K.) In the present work it recurs again and again as Cantus firmus, or in imitation, always the bond and support of the detached articles of faith. Then it becomes the root of the subjects for single phrases, such as the magnificent Crucifixus, the Confiteor and the fugued Et vit am. We scarcely know whether to admire most the masterly skill which makes light of difficulty, or the inventive imagination which can develop an idea from so many and such varied-points of view, making the same subject express calm faith in the Credo, bitter pain in the Crucifixus, and joyful confidence in the Et vit am.

The Sanctus and Benedictus are short, fine contrapuntal movements, the Benedictus especially simple and full of grace. The Agnus Dei is freer in form. Three solo voices make the appeal, which the chorus answers with "miserere nobis." The harmonic successions, and the beautiful violin passage in the accompaniment, give a peculiarly affecting CHURCH MUSIC. [260] character to this movement, which suggests a comparison with the Requiem. The Dona is fine and pure, but the effort to give it a cheerful and agreeable tone has robbed it of depth and significance.

Even the accompaniment of this mass has an importance of its own, and there is more art and beauty contained in the two violin parts than in many a fuller score. Not content with giving an independent course to the voices, Mozart allows the accompaniment also to go its own way, usually with a subject proper to it, treated freely, often in counterpoint, and always with visible partiality.

Inventive genius, technical scholarship, and deep, clear comprehension, are more evidently displayed by Mozart in this mass than ever before; the subjects have an intensity, a charm of beauty which had scarcely yet been suggested. Here, for the first time, we become aware of that wonderful beauty, Mozart's most special endowment, which we may designate sweetness, if we mean by that the perfect harmony of a naturally developed artistic organism. The maiden freshness of its manifestation here only increases the charm, and points to future expansion.

The Mass in D major (194 K.), composed on August 8, 1774, has been rightly placed next to the one we have been considering. 27 The whole plan, the strict form, the flowing treatment, contrapuntal throughout, the mature beauty, offer many points of resemblance, but the effort after gracefulness is more apparent in the later mass, and is achieved at the sacrifice of gravity and ideality. The Kyrie displays a very similar conception. With the opening words of the soprano—[See Page Image]

the foundation is laid on which the whole structure of the movement is built. In part in imitative combinations, in part extended into a longer subject, and in part connected with opposing subjects for the voices and the violins, this MASS IN D. MAJOR, 1774. [261] short theme is elaborated into a fine long movement, as interesting as it is expressive. The Gloria and the Credo do not reach the same height; the contrapuntal elaboration is only apparent in isolated passages, the solos are expressive, but over-graceful, the music proceeds in a fine flow, and delights the listener, but only now and then stirs deeper feelings. On the other hand, the Sanctus, Benedictus (a solo quartet), Agnus (alternate solo and chorus), are highly finished and tersely composed movements, in which beauty of form and sentiment combine. The somewhat lengthy Dona preserves its pleasing character, without degenerating into trifling. The effort to please by mere gracefulness is most predominant in the Mass in B flat major (275 K.), the date of which is not known. The commencement with a soprano solo 28 —[See Page Image] is characteristic of the whole mass. The solo element pre-dominates, and a wealth of lovely, seductive, and expressive melodies is scattered around; but neither the conception nor the execution takes a deep hold on the mind. The chorus is generally full, one might almost say merry; where harmonic or contrapuntal treatment comes to the front, it is executed with masterly ease; and such passages stand out in all the clearer relief against their surroundings. The principal passage of the Credo is striking:—[See Page Image]