A Dictionary of Music and Musicians/Mozart, Wolfgang

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From volume 2 of the work.

MOZART, Wolfgang Amadeus[1], born at Salzburg, Jan. 27, 1756, even as a child of three showed his love for music in a remarkable manner. He listened eagerly to his sister Marianne's music-lessons, amused himself for hours with picking out thirds, and showed a good memory for the pieces he heard. Encouraged by these indications his father began, almost in play, to teach him little minuets on the harpsichord; but the boy showed such aptitude that the play soon became real work. Marianne's MS. musicbook[2] was called into requisition, the father writing down in it pieces of progressive difficulty. The impulse to compose similar pieces for himself was soon roused in the boy; these, which already betray his feeling for beauty both of sound and form, he played to his father, who wrote them down in the book. Before long he was able to enter his own compositions. He even ventured on a concerto, but it was so difficult that no one could play it; he stood his ground however, maintaining to his father that 'that is just why it is called a concerto; people must practise till they can play it perfectly.' Schachtner the court trumpeter, and a friend of the family, relates[3] many touching instances of his lively and essentially child-like disposition; of his eagerness in learning anything, especially arithmetic; of his warm love for his father ('next after God comes papa' he used to say); of his docility, which was such that even in those days of severity he never was whipped; of his ear, which was so delicate that he could detect and remember to the next day a difference of half a quarter of a tone, and so susceptible that he fainted away at the sound of a trumpet; of his disinclination to ordinary childish amusements, and his earnestness over his music-lessons. His father wrote to him in 1778, 'as a child and a boy you were too serious even to be childish: and when sitting at the harpsichord, or doing anything in the shape of music, you would not stand a joke from any one. Indeed, from the precocity of your talent, and the extremely thoughtful expression of your countenance, many people feared you would not live to grow up.' It has but lately been discovered[4] that when a little over 5½, Mozart took part in a comedy, 'Sigismundus Hungariæ Rex,' set to music by Eberlin the court organist, and performed in the hall of the University of Salzburg, Sept. 1 and 3, 1761. There were about 150 performers, including young counts, students, and choristers of the chapel.

This was Mozart's first appearance in public.

The father, struck by the rapid progress of his children, determined to travel with them. Their first excursion was in Jan. 1762, to Munich, where the Elector received them kindly, and expressed great admiration; and encouraged by this success the family next went to Vienna, giving a concert at Linz by the way.

The reputation of the little prodigies had preceded them to Vienna, but the reality far exceeded the expectations formed by the court and nobility. The Emperor was especially taken with the 'kleinen Hexenmeister' (little magician), and in joke made him play first with one finger only, and then with the keyboard covered. Wolfgang asked expressly for Wagenseil, the court composer, that he might be sure of having a real connoisseur among his hearers. 'I am playing a concerto of yours,' he said, 'you must turn over for me.' He treated the Empress with all the frankness of an unspoilt child, jumping up into her lap, throwing his arms round her neck and kissing her. Of course the upper classes went wild about the children, and 'all the ladies lost their hearts to the little fellow.' But a change soon came, for Wolfgang took the scarlet-fever, and even after his recovery people held aloof from fear of infection. After a short excursion to Pressburg they returned to Salzburg in the beginning of 1763.

The father now considered himself justified in attempting a longer journey, his main aim being Paris. They left Salzburg on the 9th of June, and travelled by Munich, Augsburg, Schwetzingen, Mayence, Frankfort,[5] Coblenz, Aix-la-Chapelle, and Brussels, giving public concerts, or playing at the various courts. Wolfgang played the violin, and also the organ at the various churches.

They arrived in Paris on Nov. 18, and stayed five months. The children played before the court at Versailles, gave two concerts, andexcited the greatest enthusiasm. Grimm, the cultivated man of letters, took them up warmly, and was of great use in procuring them introductions, and rendering services of various kinds. To show Wolfgang's talent in composition, the father had 4 sonatas for pianoforte and violin engraved, two (6, 7) [6]being dedicated to the Princess Victoire, the King's second daughter, and two (8, 9) to the witty Comtesse de Tesse. The whole family was painted by Carmontelle, and the picture is now in the possession of Mrs. Baring of London.

They left Paris April 10, 1764, and went by Calais to London, where they took lodgings in Cecil Court, St. Martin's Lane.[7] Here also they met with a gracious reception at court, and the children, especially Wolfgang, made an extraordinary impression. The King put before the 'invincible' Wolfgang pieces by Bach, Abel, Wagenseil, and Handel, which he played at sight, and also made him play on his organ, to the still greater admiration of everybody. He then accompanied the Queen in a song, and a flute-player in his solo, and improvised a charming melody to the bass-part of one of Handel's airs. He became very intimate with the Queen's music-master, J. Christian Bach, and with the singers Tenducci and Manzuoli, the latter of whom gave him singing lessons of his own accord. He also made the acquaintance of the Hon. Daines Barrington, a man of very versatile attainments, who after putting him to the severest tests, wrote a paper for the Royal Society,[8] in which he detailed the facts and his own admiration and astonishment. After a second performance at court, the children gave their first concert on Tuesday June 5, at the Great Room in Spring Gardens. In the advertisement the father called his children 'prodigies of nature,' and directed special attention to Wolfgang; 'his father had brought him to England, not doubting but that he will meet with success in a kingdom where his countryman Handel, the late famous virtuoso, received during his lifetime such particular protection.' Town was very full for the King's birthday (June 4), and the receipts were as much as 100 guineas; moreover many of the professors engaged declined receiving any renumeration for their services. The sensation was immense; even the father was astonished, and wrote home describing their progress. 'To play the British patriot' he next allowed Wolfgang to play the harpsichord and organ at a concert at Ranelagh on June 29, 'for the benefit of a useful public [9]charity.' After this the family went to Tunbridge Wells, then at the height of its fashion, returning at the end of July; shortly after the father took cold in returning from a concert at Lord Thanet's, and had a severe illness. During his convalescence they went to Chelsea, then a detached village, and lived at the house of a Dr. Randal in Five-fields (now Lower Ebury Street). Not being able to play any instrument, on their father's account, Wolfgang composed his first Symphony (15), followed by three others in 1765 (17–19). On their return to town they lodged at Williamson's in Thrift Street (now Frith St., Soho); and on October 29 were again invited to court. In acknowledgement of so much gracious kindness, the father had six of Wolfgang's sonatas for harpsichord and violin (10–15) engraved at his own cost, and dedicated to the Queen, who sent him 50 guineas. The last two concerts, in which 'all the overtures were of the little boy's own composition,' took place respectively on Feb. 12, 1765, at the Little Theatre, Haymarket, and May 13, in Hickford's Great Room, Brewer Street, the latter at reduced prices, as the charm of novelty had worn off. Here the children played a piece of Wolfgang's for 4 hands on the same harpsichord, a thing then quite new. He also played on a pianoforte [App. p.720 "harpsichord"] with 2 manuals and pedals, made by Burkhard Shudy for the King of Prussia.

From this time the father put forth repeated invitations to the public to hear and test the youthful prodigies in private, 'every day from 12 to 3, admittance 2/6 each person,' first at their lodgings, and afterwards at the Swan and Hoop Tavern, Cornhill. Playing with the keyboard covered is mentioned as a special attraction. Visitors however became constantly fewer, in spite of the increasing urgency with which they were invited (the 'Advertiser' of July 11 contains the last advertisement), and some popular disturbances, together with the appearance of the first symptoms of George the Third's malady, made the elder Mozart determine to leave the country. The family however first visited the British Museum (opened Jan. 15, 1759), to which the father presented all Wolfgang's printed compositions, and a copy of the engraving from Carmontelle's picture. In memory of his visit Wolfgang composed, by request, a 4-part motet,[10] his only vocal piece to English words, and presented the autograph to the Museum, receiving a note of thanks from the secretary, Mr. Maty (July 19, 1765). They started July 24, stopped at Canterbury, and at Bourne with Horace Mann, and on August 1 left England for the Hague in consequence of an invitation to the court of Holland.

They were detained a month at Lille by Wolfgang's falling ill, but on their arrival at the Hague in September were most graciously received by the Prince of Orange and his sister Princess Caroline of Nassau- Weilburg. First however the little girl fell ill, and then Wolfgang took a violent fever which lasted many weeks. It was not till Jan. 1766 that he was able to give two concerts at Amsterdam, at which all the instrumental music was his own composition, including a symphony (22). In March they were again at the Hague for the fêtes on the installation of the Prince of Orange as Stadtholder, for which Wolfgang composed harpsichord variations on an allegretto, and on the old Volkslied 'Willem van Nassau' (24, 25), which were immediately printed. He also composed for the Festival a kind of concerto grosso which he called 'Galimathias musicum' (32); it concludes with a fugue on the Volkslied. Six sonatas for P.F. and violin (26–31), dedicated to the Princess, were also engraved. At Ghent and Haarlem he played the organ in public.

They next travelled by Mechlin to Paris, where they arrived on May 10. The children played repeatedly at court, and their improvement was appreciated, but here too there was a falling off in interest. On July 9 they left Paris, and passing through Lyons to Switzerland, spent many pleasant days at Lausanne, Berne, Zurich, and Schaffhausen. They were fêted everywhere, but most of all at Zurich by the poet Gessner, from whom they parted with great regret. It has lately been discovered[11] that the father took his children over from Geneva to Ferney, having a letter of introduction from Damilaville of Paris. But Voltaire had been in bed for six weeks, and Mme. Denis, Rameau's pupil, was ill too; 'Comment pourrais-je recevoir vôtre jeune joueur de clavecin? Ah! nous sommes bien loin de donner des fêtes!' he wrote to his friend in Paris; and so this strange encounter between Leopold Mozart the sincere believer, and Voltaire, did not take place. That the former should have desired it is a proof of his readiness to sacrifice even his scruples to the interests of his children.[12] At Donaueschingen they spent twelve pleasant days with the Prince of Fürstenberg, who had music nearly every evening, and after remunerating them very handsomely, took leave of them with tears in his eyes. At Biberach Count Fugger of Babenhausen made Wolfgang compete on the organ with Sixtus Bachmann, a gifted boy two years older than himself; neither was able to obtain a decided advantage over the other. Passing through Munich, where the Elector was much pleased with Wolfgang's progress, they arrived in Salzburg in November 1766.

The father's first care was to carry on Wolfgang's interrupted studies; and as a solid foundation took him through Fux's 'Gradus ad Parnassum.' The Archbishop, not believing in the boy's powers, gave him the first part of a sacred cantata 'Die Schuldigkeit des ersten Gebotes' (35), to compose under strict surveillance. Quite within our own time it has been ascertained[13] that this work was performed on March 12, and April 2, 1767, by the students in the University hall. To this period also belong a Passions-cantate or Grabmusik (42), his first P.F. concertos (37, 39–41), and a Latin comedy 'Apollo et Hyacinthus,' performed May 13, at the Aula, at which (according to Hammerle) he also played the harpsichord. In the beginning of September the family, attracted by the approaching betrothal of the Archduchess Josepha, went to Vienna; but they came in for a series of misfortunes. The Princess died of small-pox, the upper classes took flight for fear of infection, and the Mozarts also fled to Olmütz, where however both children took the disease, and Wolfgang was blind for nine days. Count Podstatzky generously gave them free quarters in the Deanery, and every care was lavished upon them. After their recovery they made a short stay at Brünn, where they were kindly welcomed by Count Schrattenbach, and other nobles.

They arrived in Vienna in January 1768, and were very kindly received at court; but the Empress was living in retirement after the death of her husband, the Emperor set an example of parsimony which was scrupulously followed by the aristocracy, and the general public had no feeling for art. But worse than all was the envy and jealousy shown by their professional brethren. In the midst of these various difficulties and trials the Emperor invited Wolfgang to compose an opera, and conduct it at the harpsichord. Coltellini's 'La finta Semplice' (51) was chosen, but a series of intrigues prevented its being produced. Wolfgang had however the satisfaction of producing his little German operetta 'Bastien und Bastienne' (50)[14] in the private theatre of their friends the Messmers.[15] He had also an opportunity of appearing in public as a composer, being commissioned to furnish a mass (49), an offertorium (47), and a trumpet-concerto, for the consecration of the new church at the Waisenhaus. The ceremony took place Dec. 7, and Wolfgang conducted in presence of the Emperor and the court.

A great pleasure awaited Wolfgang on his return to Salzburg; the Archbishop had his rejected opera performed in the palace. He also made him his Concertmeister, though without salary. Wolfgang again devoted himself to study, composing two masses (65, 66), and the charming Johannes Offertorium (72) for a priest in the monastery of Seeon. His father now resolved to take him to Italy for further cultivation, and also as a means of making his name known. The father and son left Salzburg in the beginning of December 1769, and travelling by Innspruck, where Wolfgang was greatly admired at a private concert given by Count Künigl, they visited Roveredo, Verona, Mantua, Milan, Lodi, where Wolfgang composed his first quartet (80), Bologna, Rome, Florence, Naples, and on their return, Bologna, Milan, and Venice. At Roveredo Wolfgang played at Baron Todeschi's, and the day after played the organ in the parish church to an immense crowd. At Verona one of his symphonies was performed, and his playing at sight, and composing and singing an air to given words, caused great astonishment. Pietro Lugiati had a picture taken of him, and poets celebrated his praises. In Mantua, at a concert of the Societa Filarmonica, nine out of twelve pieces were by Wolfgang. In Milan they were lodged in S. Marco, and Count Firmian, the Governor-General, who was a great connoisseur, introduced them to all the principal families. 'It is the same here as everywhere,' writes the father, 'so there is no need to describe it.' The foremost musician in the city, the aged Giambattista Sammartini subjected Wolfgang to severe tests. After a brilliant soirée at Count Firmian's, for which he composed three airs to words by Metastasio (77–79), he was commissioned to write an opera for the next 'stagione.' At Parma they admired the celebrated singer Agujari. At Bologna they were most hospitably received by Count Pallavicini, who gave a brilliant academy, at which even Padre Martini was present, although he had then given up attending concerts. The father writes that Wolfgang was more admired there than anywhere, and anticipates that from Bologna, the residence of so many artists and scientific musicians, his fame will soon spread over Italy. And he was right; for the recommendation of Padre Martini, the great church composer, and referee in all musical disputes, at once gave him a position in the eyes of the world. After each visit to the Padre, Wolfgang carried away a fugue to work out at home, and in every case acquitted himself to the satisfaction of the great contrapuntist. His acquaintance too with the great singer Farinelli was of service to him from an artistic point of view.

In Florence, where they arrived March 30, the Mozarts were graciously received by the Archduke Leopold, who had known them in Vienna. Wolfgang played at court, accompanied Nardini the great violinist, and solved 'as easily as if he were eating a bit of bread,' the hardest problems set him by the Marquis de Ligniville, director of the court-music, and a thorough contrapuntist. Wolfgang copied for his own use 9 pieces from the Marquis's Stabat Mater with 30 canons, and composed in imitation of it a Kyrie a cinque con diversi canoni (89). Here to his great delight he again met Manzuoli, who had taught him to sing in London. He also struck up a great friendship with Thomas Linley, the young composer of 14, who was a pupil of Nardini, and already gave remarkable promise. The two young artists were inseparable for the few days of Mozart's stay, and competed 'not like boys, but like men.' They parted with many tears, and never met again, Linley being drowned in 1778. Long afterwards in Vienna Mozart spoke of him,[16] and lamented his early death. Burney says that the talk throughout Italy was of the two genuises, little Mozart and 'Tomasino,' from both of whom much was expected.

The travellers reached Rome on Wednesday in Holy Week, and went straight to the Sistine Chapel to hear Allegri's celebrated Miserere, when Wolfgang gave the well-known proof of his ear and memory, by writing down the entire work, after one hearing, merely correcting one or two passages during the repetition on Good Friday. [See Miserere.] This feat made a great sensation. The principal people received him with open arms, and Wolfgang played everywhere. For these concerts he composed a symphony (81) and two soprano airs (82, 83), and sent a contredanse to his sister in return for Haydn's minuets.

On May 8 they went direct to Naples. Wolfgang was not invited to play before the court, but the nobility treated both father and son with great respect; they also met many previous acquaintances, who were of use to them in various ways. On the 28th Wolfgang gave a concert, which was brilliantly attended, and brought in a good sum. When he played at the 'Conservatorio alla Pietà,' his hearers were superstitious enough to attribute his marvellous execution to the charm of a ring on his finger, and when he laid it aside their astonishment knew no bounds. They had made acquaintance with Piccini in Milan, and did the same here with Jomelli. On June 25 they went back to Rome, and the Pope in a private audience bestowed on Wolfgang the order of the 'Golden Spur'—'the same that Gluck has,' as the father wrote home with pardonable pride. He also told as a good joke, how the guards let them pass, taking Wolfgang for a young prince, and himself for his tutor. Now he was Signor Cavaliere Amadeo, and his father insisted on his thus signing his compositions. Wolfgang however was less pretentious, and soon let the title drop. He was painted again in Rome by Battoni.

Leaving Rome on July 10, they arrived on the 2Oth in Bologna, where a great distinction awaited Wolfgang. The Accademia Filarmonica, after testing his powers,[17] admitted him to their ranks as 'compositore,' although the statutes, besides other qualifications, required that members should be at least 20. His election as 'maestro di [18]capella' followed on June 5, 1771. Again they saw much of Padre Martini, and under his influence Wolfgang wrote for practice a series of sketches in the forms of strict counterpoint.[19] A Miserere (85) shows the influence of the one heard in Rome.[20] Finally Martini gave him a formal testimonial.

By Oct. 10 they were in Milan, and Wolfgang set seriously to work on his opera, before the completion of which the usual battles with the singers, and in this case with jealous rivals, had to be gone through. On Dec. 26, however, 'Mitridate Rè di Ponto' was produced for the first time, Wolfgang conducting; and it was repeated to full houses twenty times, amid cries of 'Evviva il Maestro! Evviva il Maestrino!' After an excursion to Turin, they again passed through Milan on their way to Venice, entered into all the amusements of the Carnival, were feted by the nobility, and gave a brilliant concert. On March 12 they went to Padua, where Wolfgang played the organ in S. Giustina, and was commissioned to compose an oratorio, which Jahn conjectures to have been 'Betulia liberata' (118), performed in all probability during Lent, 1772. After some days detention in Vicenza and Verona, they arrived at Salzburg, March 28, 1771. His success in Italy procured him two commissions, one from Milan for an opera for the Carnival of 1773, and the other from the Empress Maria Theresa for a dramatic serenata for the marriage of the Archduke Ferdinand, to take place in Milan in October. During their short stay at Salzburg, Wolfgang composed a Litany (109), a Regina cœli (108), and a symphony (110). They started again Aug. 13, 1771, and arrived in Milan on the 21st; but the libretto was not ready till the end of the month. The score was completed in a fortnight, a remarkable instance of rapidity, considering that he had a violinist overhead, an oboe-player beneath, and a pianoforte-teacher next door, all hard at work the whole day long—a Babel of sounds which he, however, pronounced to be 'delightful (lustig) for composing, as it gave ideas'! He was now so firmly established in the favour both of the court and the public, that he had no intrigues to encounter. He was on the best terms, too, with Hasse, who was composing 'Ruggiero,' and who with commendable generosity, prophetically remarked, 'This boy will cause us all to be forgotten' (Questo ragazzo ci farà dimenticar tutti). The marriage of the Archduke and the Princess Beatrice of Modena took place Oct. 15; Hasse's opera was performed on the 16th, and Wolfgang's Serenata 'Ascanio in Alba' (111) on the 17th, with a success which enabled the father to write home [21]'I am sorry to say Wolfgang's Serenata has cut out Hasse's Opera to an extent I cannot describe.' Besides his fee, the Empress sent him a gold watch set with diamonds, with her portrait at the back. After the opera he composed another symphony (112), and a divertimento (113).

They returned home in the middle of December, 1771. In the last days of the year Wolfgang composed another symphony (114), and was then laid up by serious illness. Meantime the Archbishop died, and Wolfgang was commissioned to compose an opera for the allegiance festival of his successor Hieronymus, Count von Colloredo, whose election caused universal astonishment and dismay. The piece chosen was Metastasio's 'Il Sogno di Scipione,' very inappropriate, and apparently wanting in inspiration, as the music is superficial and entirely 'de circonstance.' It was performed probably in May, 1772. About the same period he composed 4 symphonies (124, 128–130); a grand divertimento (131); 3 quartets (136–138); a very important Litany 'de venerabili' (125); and a Regina cœli (127).

The travellers again set out for Milan on Oct. 24, 1872 [App. p.720 "1772"], and arrived on Nov. 4. Here Wolfgang completed his new opera, 'Lucio Silla' (135), produced on Dec. 26, and repeated more than twenty times to crowded and enthusiastic audiences. Rauzzini was one of the singers, and Wolfgang composed for him a motet, 'Exultate' (165), which he sang in the church of the Theatines.

They returned in the beginning of March 1773 to Salzburg, where Wolfgang composed 4 symphonies (181–184), 3 divertimenti for windband (186–188), a grand concerto for two violins (190), and a mass (167). In the summer the father and son took the opportunity of the Archbishop's absence in Vienna, to go there themselves. Their immediate object is not known, but probably the father was trying to obtain some court appointment. He had made a similar attempt in Florence, but without success. He wrote to his wife and daughter, 'Things will and must alter; take comfort, God will help us.' They returned home however with their object unattained. In Vienna Wolfgang composed a grand serenata for Salzburg (185), and six quartets (168–173), and was 'bold enough,' as his father wrote, to play a violin-concerto at a festival in the Theatine monastery, the organ not being worth playing on. One of his masses (66) was performed by the Jesuits.

In 1773 Wolfgang also composed at Salzburg a string quintet (174), and a P.F. concerto (175), the first since those of 1767. The family were together at Salzburg nearly the whole of 1774, Wolfgang being very busy with his studies, and with composition. To this period belong 2 masses (192, 194); a grand litany (195); 2 vesper-psalms (193); an offertorium for soprano and tenor soli (198); a bassoon-concerto (191); 4 symphonies (199–202); 2 serenatas (203, 204); an interesting divertimento (205), and P.F. variations on Fischer's favourite minuet (179), which he frequently played on his tour.

On Dec. 6 the father and son started for Munich, where Wolfgang was engaged, through the influence of his patron. Count Ferdinand von Zeil, Prince Archbishop of Chiemsee, to compose an opera for the Carnival of 1775. Stimulated doubtless by the rich resources at his disposal, Wolfgang exerted himself to the utmost, and 'La finta Giardiniera' (196), produced Jan. 13, 1775, was a great success. Schubart, who had heard it, speaks of the 'wonderful genius' of the composer, and adds, 'unless Mozart should prove to be a mere overgrown product of the forcing-house, he will be the greatest composer that ever lived.' Court and public vied with each other in paying him attentions, and the court-chapel performed one of his grand litanies (125), his two latest masses, and an offertorium, 'Misericordias Domini' (222), written in haste at the request of the Elector, and an admirable specimen of strict counterpoint.

Soon after their return to Salzburg in March 1775, a series of fêtes were given at court in honour of the Archduke Maximilian, afterwards Archbishop of Cologne, and Wolfgang's dramatic cantata to Metastasio's much-used 'Il Rè pastore' (208) was performed on April 23. To the remainder of this year belong, another mass (220); 2 airs for tenor (209, 210); an air for soprano (217); a divertimento (213); 9 canons for 2, 3, and 4 voices (226–234); and 5 violin-concertos (207, 211, 216, 218, 219), to which a 6th (268) was added in 1776. The concertos show that he was working at the violin, which he did to please his father, as he disliked playing at court, though it was one of his duties. His father writes to him in 1777, 'You have no idea how well you play the violin; if you would only do yourself justice, and play with boldness, spirit, and fire, you would be the first violinist in Europe.' Again, 'I suspect you have scarcely touched the violin since you were in Munich; I should be very sorry if that were the case'; and later, 'The violin is hanging up on its nail, I suppose' and the conjecture was right. The remark about Munich refers to his Cassation (287), 'Everybody was staring away; and I played as if I had been the greatest violinist in Europe.' Later, in Vienna, he preferred taking the viola in quartets.

The whole of 1776, and as far as Sept. 1777, passed quietly in the old routine, numerous compositions testifying to Wolfgang's industry. To this period belong 5 masses (257–259, 262, 275); a litany 'de venerabili' (243); an offertorium for 2 choirs 'Venite populi' (260); a graduale 'Sancta Maria' (273); a serenade for the wedding of Burgermeister Haffner's daughter (249, 250); a serenade for 2 violins principali with accompaniments (239); a divertimento for various instruments (251); a notturno for ditto (286); 2 divertimenti or Cassationen for string quartet and 2 horns (247, 287) for the name-day of Countess Antonie Lodron; 5 divertimenti for 2 oboi, 2 bassoons, and 2 horns (240, 252, 253, 270, 289); a sonata for bassoon and cello (292); an oboe-concerto (293) for Ferlendi, frequently played by Ramm of Mannheim, who used to call it his 'cheval de bataille.' The P.F. also reappears—variations (264, 265); 6 sonatas (279—284), ordered by Baron Dürnitz, who forgot to pay for them; a trio (254); 2 concertos (238, 246); and a concerto for 3 P.F.'s (242) for the three Countesses Lodrow, a favourite piece, often played on his next tour by Mozart himself. Of 17 sonatas for organ, generally with violin and bass, intended as graduales, 6 (241, 244, 245, 263, 274, 278) belong to this period.

Besides all this mass of music, Wolfgang studied the works of other masters, and even—an example well worth following—put into score from the parts a number of church-pieces in the strict style by Michael Haydn and Eberlin. He sent from Vienna for a note-book of this kind for van Swieten's benefit.

We have now before us a youth of 21, a skilled performer on three instruments, and at home in the most varied branches of composition. His father had given him a conscientious and systematic education, protected him from all injurious influences, and made him concentrate his whole powers on his artistic cultivation. All that teaching could do for him had been done in Salzburg; the time had now come for him to go out into the world, and let the discipline of life complete the work. His existence at Salzburg had long been intolerable to him; beyond a few intimate friends he had no society; he was disgusted at the want of appreciation for art, and his position with regard to Archbishop Hieronymus became daily more critical. On this point both he and his father became anxious. Something must be done. Not daring as yet to send his son alone into the world, the father asked leave to take a professional tour with him. It was refused, the Archbishop's reason being, as he said afterwards, that 'he could not bear people going about begging in that fashion.' The cup was now full, and Wolfgang applied for his discharge.[22] Irritated that any one should dare to leave him so abruptly, and quite aware of what he was losing, the Archbishop granted the request on Aug. 28, adding that, 'after the Gospel both father and son were free to seek their fortune wherever they pleased.' He relented, however, with regard to the father, who came to the painful resolve of sending his son away with his mother. It was true that she had little energy, and less intellectual power; but she was an experienced traveller, and could be useful to her son in many practical ways. The necessary preparations were accordingly made, even to the purchase of a carriage, that they might present a suitable appearance. On Sept. 23, 1777, mother and son left home. The father bore up bravely till they were really off, and then going to his room sank exhausted on a chair. Suddenly he remembered that in his distress he had forgotten to give his son his blessing. He rushed to the window with outstretched hand, but the carriage was already out of sight. His son, however, breathed freely when once fairly off; the deliverance from a position which he had long groaned under was delightful enough to mitigate even the pain of separation from his father and sister. Fortunately for him he could not foresee the life which lay before him,—a life full to its close of crosses and disappointments, and with so few joys!

Their first halting-place was Munich, but here they met with nothing but discouragement, and had to leave without accomplishing anything. At Augsburg Mozart visited G. Andreas Stein, the celebrated maker of organs and pianofortes, and both at his house and in the monastery of St. Ulrich charmed all hearers by his playing. A concert, however, produced but a small sum. On Oct. 30 they reached Mannheim, where they stayed much longer than they anticipated. The good prospects which at first seemed to open before them were not indeed realised; but the visit formed a decisive epoch in Mozart's life. Under the Elector Karl Theodor, Mannheim possessed a good opera, with an orchestra containing virtuosi of the first rank, and at that time considered the first in Europe for instrumental music.[23] Mozart made great friends with Cannabich, an excellent conductor and good teacher, and gave pianoforte lessons to his daughter Rose, who attracted him in spite of her youth. He also became intimate with the poets Wieland and Freiherr von Gemmingen, the composers Holzbauer and Schweitzer, Raaff the great tenor, Wendling, Ramm, and Ritter, excellent performers on the flute, oboe, and bassoon. Here also his playing, both on the pianoforte and the organ, was much admired, and he had opportunities of measuring himself with Sterkel and Vogler, neither of whom impressed him much. The latter, indeed, he positively disliked. While vainly endeavouring to gain admittance to the Elector's Chapel, Wendling, Ramm, and Ritter tried to persuade him to accompany them to Paris and give concerts there. He was inclined to the plan, and his father agreed, though with reluctance; but when it came to the point he allowed his friends to start without him. The truth was he had fallen in love. Aloysia, the second daughter of Fridolin Weber, prompter and copyist, was a gifted singer, with a fine voice and considerable beauty, and these qualities made a due impression upon Wolfgang, during an excursion to Kirchheim, in Poland, where the Princess of Orange kept a private orchestra, and had daily concerts. Aloysia returned his attachment, and allowed him to teach her singing; and he, touched by the poverty of the family, resolved to take her to Italy, and there write a new opera for her first appearance. So romantic a proposition drove his father nearly out of his senses. In such a case quick action was everything. Urging upon him the doubtful character of the plan, he used all his endeavours to tear him away from these dangerous surroundings. 'Off with you to Paris, and that immediately! Take up your position among those who are really great,—aut Cæsar aut nihil! From Paris the name and fame of a man of talent spreads throughout the world.' As for his Aloysia, he advised him to commend her to Raaff, who would not only be able to teach her, but whose good word would have great weight with impresarios. It was a hard struggle for Wolfgang, but his love for his father enabled him to defer to his authority, and the time for departure was fixed. Before leaving, however, he gave some concerts, at which he played, and produced both his compositions and his pupils; and now for the first time Mannheim became aware of what it was losing. Parting with the Webers was hard work; they all wept, and thanked him as their 'greatest benefactor.' In Mannheim he composed a soprano air for Aloysia (294); a tenor air for Raaff (295); 2 Lieder (307, 308); 2 flute-concertos (313-314); Romanze for flute (315); quartet for flute and strings (285); 7 sonatas for P.F. and violin, partly composed in Paris (296, 301–306); 3 P.F. sonatas (309–311), including the beautiful one in A minor.

Leaving Mannheim on March 14, 1778, they reached Paris on the 23rd. The father's anticipations did not in this instance prove correct; their old friend Grimm was still there, but by no means so devoted to their interests as he had been; the youth was not the same attraction as the marvellous boy had been; and the musical world was absorbed in the Gluck and Piccini controversy. Nor had they succeeded in obtaining from Vienna a recommendation to Marie Antoinette. They were thus thrown upon their Mannheim friends, and upon Count von Sickingen, to whom von Gemmingen had given them an introduction. Wolfgang renewed his acquaintance with Piccini, whom he had met in Italy, but they never got beyond the terms of ordinary courtesy; 'I know my business, and he his,—that is enough,' writes Wolfgang. Gossec he calls, 'my very good friend, and an uncommonly dry man.' There ia no trace of any acquaintance with Grétry. Grimm procured him admittance to the Due de Guisnes, who played the flute superbly, as Mozart says, and his daughter the harp. Accordingly he had to compose a concerto (299) for these two instruments, for which he cared less than any other. To the daughter he gave daily lessons in composition, and he had a few other lady-pupils. But he was not allowed to write an opera. Noverre, ballet-master at the Opéra, promised to use his influence, which was great, in his favour; but all he did was to employ him to compose twelve pieces for his ballet, 'Les petits[24] riens.' He composed a symphony for flute, oboe, bassoon, and French horn, at the request of Le Gros, director of the Concerts Spirituels, but it was never performed. Some airs in a Miserere by Holzbauer, produced at the Concerts Spirituels without Mozart's name, passed unnoticed, except by Gossec, who expressed great admiration. Le Gros afterwards ordered another symphony, which pleased greatly—the Paris or French symphony in three movements (297); and at his request Mozart wrote a second Andante in place of the original one.

In the meantime, his mother, who had never been well in Paris, became seriously ill, and died in Wolfgang's arms on July 3. With great thoughtfulness he wrote to their friend Bullinger to prepare his father for the sad news, and then sent a letter direct, which gives a high idea of the love which bound the family together, and of the manliness of his own conduct in so distressing a position.[25] Remain longer in Paris he felt he could not, and his father even urged his departure, especially as there was now some prospect for him in Salzburg, owing to the deaths of Adlgasser the court organist, and Lolli the old Capellmeister. Moreover the Archbishop had promised to allow him to go anywhere to superintend the production of an opera, should he be commissioned to write one. His last few days in Paris were cheered by his old London friend Christian Bach, who had come over for the performance of his 'Amadis.' 'His joy, and mine too, at meeting again, you can well imagine,' he wrote to his father. With Bach came Tenducci, and the three spent a few pleasant days at the Maréchal de Noailles's chateau at Saint Germain. Mozart wrote a scena[26] for Tenducci, with accompaniment for pianoforte, oboe, horn, and bassoon, and this was played by the Maréchal's servants, who were all Germans. To the compositions already mentioned in Paris must be added a gavotte (300), and a quartet for flute and strings (298).

On Sept. 26, 1778, Mozart left Paris with a still heavier heart than he had entered it six months before. He went by Nancy and Strassburg, which he reached in the middle of October. Here he gave three concerts, which produced much applause but little money, and played on Silbermann's two best organs in the Neukirche and St. Thomas. On Nov. 3 he started for Mannheim, although it was, as his father said, a foolish notion to go there when the Court, the Webers, and his best friends were all absent at Munich, and there was nothing for him to do. But it did him good to recall the old memories, and, as he said, 'I love Mannheim, and Mannheim loves me.' Besides, he had some prospect of an engagement for an opera. Seyler's troupe was still at the theatre; they were indeed only an operetta-company, but there was some talk of founding a German national opera. Here too Mozart saw two of Benda's melodramas, 'Medea' and 'Ariadne auf Naxos,' and was so delighted with them that he willingly undertook von Gemmingen's 'Semiramis.'[27] Von Dalberg, director of the theatre, also had his eye upon Mozart for his opera 'Cora,' although he was already in negotiation with Gluck and Schweitzer. However, all came to nothing; and his father, who had run into debt on his account, and had moreover great hopes of seeing him well placed in Salzburg, put forth his authority to make him return—'You will start immediately on receipt of this.' The son obeyed, and by Dec. 25 was at Munich; but his father, anxious lest he should be detained for good, and fearing the proximity of his beloved, did not let him rest there. Cannabich and Raaff were indeed 'working for him hand and foot,' but there was no need for anxiety on Aloysia's account. Her family welcomed him warmly, but she who 'had wept for him' seemed now scarcely to remember him, and was even displeased that he had altered the fashion of his clothes. Yet he again offered her his musical homage, composing a grand aria (316) suited to her present capabilities, to words taken, with a trace of self-complacency, from Gluck's 'Alceste,' and with an obligato accompaniment intended for Ramm and Ritter. This air was his farewell to Aloysia Weber, about whom he wrote to his father in May 1781, 'I did love her truly, and feel still that I am not indifferent to her; but luckily for me her husband is a jealous fool, and never lets her go anywhere, so that I rarely see her.'[28]

In mourning for his mother, disappointed in his first love, and with all his hopes falsified, Mozart returned in the middle of June 1779 to the home of his childhood. In such circumstances the warmth with which he was received was doubly grateful. A good many of his old friends were still there to rally round him, but nothing could overcome his dislike of Salzburg. Even the duties entailed by his position as Concert-meister and organist to the Court and Cathedral,[29] were fulfilled as an irksome task. His desire to write for the stage was re-kindled by the presence of a dramatic company under Böhm and Schikaneder (1779–80). This was the beginning of his intimacy with the latter, to whom he furnished entr'actes and choruses for Freiherr von Gebler's Dramma eroica 'Thamos, König von Egypten' (345). To this period also belongs a German opera, libretto by Schachtner, to which André afterwards gave the title of 'Zaïde' (344)—performed in 1866 at Frankfort.

During his stay at Salzburg in 1779–80 he produced the following works: 2 masses (317, 'Coronation mass,' and 337); a Kyrie (323); 2 vespers (321, 339), among his best compositions; a trio for 3 voices with 3 corni di basseto (346); 2 Lieder (349, 351); 2 canons (347, 348); 2 symphonies (319, 338); movement of a symphony[30] (318); duo concertante for violin and viola (364); 2 serenades (320, 361); divertimento for string-quartet and 2 horns (334); 4 sonatas for P.F. (330–333); variations for P.F. and violin (359, 360); sonatas for 4 hands (357, 358); variations for P.F. (352–354); a concerto for 2 P.F.'s (365); and the last organ sonatas (328, 329,336). At Munich he composed:—Kyrie of an unfinished mass (341); concert-aria for Countess Baumgarten (369); and quartet for oboe, violin, viola, and cello, for Ramm (370).

His next employment was most congenial. Through the exertions of his friends at Munich the grand opera for the Carnival of 1871 [App. p.720 "1781"] was put into his hands. The libretto was by Abbate Varesco, court chaplain at Salzburg, who consulted Mozart at every step, as he began the work at home. He went to Munich in the beginning of November, and at the very first rehearsals the music was highly approved by the Elector and the performers. His father even wrote to him from Salzburg, 'the universal subject of conversation here is your opera.' The Archbishop being in Vienna at the time, his father and sister were able to go to Munich for the first performance on Jan. 29, 1781. 'Idomeneo, Rè di Creta,' opera seria (366, ballet-music 367), was enthusiastically received, and decided once for all Mozart's position as a dramatic composer.

While in the full enjoyment of the pleasures of the Carnival, into which he plunged as soon as his labours were over, he received a summons from the Archbishop to join him in Vienna, and started immediately.

On March 16, 1781, after a journey of four days, Mozart arrived 'all by himself in a post chaise' in Vienna, where his destiny was to be accomplished. He was made to live with the Archbishop's household, and dine at the servants' table treatment in striking contrast to that he received from the aristocracy in general. The Countess Thun, 'the most charming and attractive woman I have ever seen in my life,' invited him to dinner, and so did vice-chancellor Count Cobenzl, and others. The Archbishop liked the prestige of appearing in society with Mozart, Ceccarelli, and Brunetti, as his domestic virtuosi, but did not allow Mozart either to play alone in any house but his own, or to give a concert. He was obliged however to yield to the entreaties of the nobility, and allow him to appear at the concert of the Tonkünstler-Societät. 'I am so happy,' Mozart exclaimed beforehand, and wrote to his father afterwards of his great success. At the Archbishop's private concert too he excited the greatest enthusiasm, though he was often addressed in that very house as 'Gassenbube' (low fellow of the streets). In vain did his father urge him to forbearance, he was determined not to remain in a position where he had such indignities to endure. The opportunity came only too soon. The Archbishop, detested by the nobility, and above all by the Emperor Joseph, did not receive an invitation to Laxenburg, the summer residence of the court, and in his disgust determined to leave Vienna. The household was to start first, but Mozart, 'the villain, the low fellow,' was turned out of the house before the others. He took lodgings with the Webers, who were living in the Petersplatz at a house called 'zum Auge Gottes,' reduced in number by the death of the father and the marriage of Aloysia. At his next audience he was greeted with 'Lump,' 'Lausbube,' and 'Fex' (untranslateable terms of abuse). 'None of his servants treated him so badly,' continued the Archbishop. 'Your Grace is dissatisfied with me then?' said Mozart. 'What! you dare to use threats? (using all the time the contemptuous 'Er') Fex! there is the door; I will have nothing more to do with such a vile wretch' ('elenden Buben'). 'Nor I with you,' retorted Mozart, and turned on his heel. Not having received an answer to his application for his discharge, Mozart drew up a fresh memorial, with which he presented himself in the antechamber of this Prince of the Church; but as if to culminate all the brutal treatment he had already received, Count Arco the high-steward, addressed him as 'Flegel' (clown), 'Bursch' (fellow) etc., and kicked him out of the room. This took place on the 8th of June. Mozart was now free, though he had not received his formal dismissal; 'I will never have anything more to do with Salzburg,' he wrote to his father, 'I hate the Archbishop almost to fury.' It was summer, the nobility were all going into the country, and there was no demand for either concerts or lessons. The Countess Rumbeck was his only pupil. Composition was of course his resource, and while thus employing his leisure, he fulfilled his long-cherished desire of writing an opera for the National Singspiel (German opera), founded by the Emperor in 1778. The Emperor interested himself in his favour, and he soon received a libretto to his taste. He was hurt however at finding himself passed over at the fêtes in honour of the Grand-duke Paul and his wife; even his 'Idomeneo' had to give way to two operas of Gluck's. His contest with Clementi, in the presence of the Emperor and the Grandduchess on Dec. 24,[31] afforded him some slight compensation. He had previously (Nov. 16) played at the house of Archduke Maximilian, who was very fond of him, though under the circumstances unable to do anything for him. In spite of unremitting intrigues his 'Entführung aus dem Serail' (384), libretto by Bretzner, was produced by the Emperor's express command, with great success on July 16,[32] 1782. Mozart was arranging it for a wind band when he received through his father a request for a serenade to be composed in all haste, for the Haffners of Salzburg. This is the well-known Symphony in D (385), at which, when looking over it long afterwards, he was 'quite surprised,' and thought 'it must have had a very good effect.' To this was added the fine Nachtmusik in C minor, for a wind-band, better known as a string-quintet (388).

On the Grand-duke's second visit to Vienna in October, he attended Mozart's opera, which was still attracting 'swarms of people'; the composer conducted in person, 'to show himself the father of his own child.' Prague soon produced it with great success; a foretaste of the many honours Mozart was to receive in that city.

He found his new abode with the Webers very comfortable; but the world soon began to enquire whether he were not intending to marry one of the daughters. The report reached his father, who admonished him seriously; but Wolfgang solemnly declared that he was thinking of nothing of the kind, and to prove his statement took another lodging, in the 'Graben.' Here however the want of the attentions to which he had been accustomed drove him to a new step, for which we soon find him preparing his father. 'To my mind a bachelor lives only half a life' he writes, and hesitatingly names the object of his love. 'But surely not a Weber? Yes, a Weber, Constanze, the third daughter.' All attempts at dissuasion were vain; his resolution was fixed, and on Aug. 16 [App. p.720 "Aug. 4"], scarcely a month after the production of his opera, he led Constanze to the altar, at St. Stephen's. Bringing home his bride was his 'Entführung aus dem Auge Gottes ' as he told his friends. 'As soon as we were married, my wife and I both began to weep; all present, even the priest, were touched at seeing us so moved, and wept too.'

His marriage involved Mozart in innumerable troubles. With many good qualities his wife was a thoroughly bad manager, and this was the worst defect possible, since Mozart was naturally careless in money matters, and of course his life as a busy artist was an unfavourable one for economy. They began housekeeping with next to nothing, and their resources were uncertain at the best. No wonder then that in six months they were in serious difficulties; and so it went on to the end. His friends, the worthy Puchberg especially, were always ready to come to his assistance, but they could not prevent his often being put to embarrassing and humiliating straits. Without even a prospect of a fixed appointment he was thrown back upon lessons and concerts. Pupils were scarce, but he was more fortunate as a virtuoso; and for the next few years he was constantly employed with concerts, his own and those of other artists, and still more in playing at the houses of the nobility. Lent and Advent were the regular concert seasons in Vienna. The Emperor was frequently present, and always had a loud 'bravo' for Mozart, speaking of him too at his own table 'in the highest terms' as 'un talent decidé.' This makes it all the more difficult to exonerate his majesty from the charge of yielding to the efforts of those immediately about him, to prevent his bestowing some suitable post on Mozart. The latter writes on this subject to his father, 'Countess Thun, Count Zichy, Baron van Swieten, even Prince Kaunitz, are all much vexed at the little value that the Emperor puts on men of talent. Kaunitz said lately, when talking to the Archduke Maximilian about me, that men of that stamp only came into the world once in a hundred years, and that they ought not to be driven out of Germany, especially when, as good luck would have it, they were already in the capital.' After the success of his first concert in Lent 1782, Mozart entered into an engagement with Martin, who had instituted a series of concerts held in the winter at the [33]'Mehlgrube,' and removed in May to the [34]Augarten, where Mozart played for the first time on May 26. He afterwards joined the pianist Richter, who gave subscription concerts. Among the artists at whose concerts he appeared, were the singers Laschi, Teyber, and Storace, and his sister-in-law, Mme. Lange.

His own subscription concerts, generally three or four, were held in the theatre, at the Mehlgrube, or in the Trattnerhof, and being attended by the cream of the nobility,[35] produced both honour and profit. The programme consisted chiefly, sometimes entirely, of his own compositions—a symphony, two P.F. concertos, an orchestral piece with an instrument concertante, three or four airs, and an improvised fantasia. The latter, in which he showed incomparable skill, always roused a perfect storm of applause. For each concert he composed a new P.F. concerto, the greatest number and the best belonging to this time. With so much on his hands he might well say, when excusing himself to his sister for writing so seldom, 'Has not a man without a kreutzer of fixed income enough to do and to think of day and night in a place like this?' A list he sent to his father of the concerts for 1784 will best show the request he was in. During six weeks (Feb. 26 to April 3) he played five times at Prince Gallitzin's, nine times at Count John Esterhazy's, at three of Richter's concerts, and five of his own.

Tired of waiting for an appointment, which must have been most trying to one of his excitable nature, Mozart seriously thought of going to London and Paris, and began to practise himself in English and French. He had even written to Le Gros in Paris about engagements for the Concerts Spirituels, and the Concerts des Amateurs, but his father, horrified at the idea of a newly married man without resources thus wandering about the world, succeeded in putting a stop to the scheme. As a compensation for the postponement of one desire, he was able to fulfil another, that of presenting his young wife to his father. Starting after her recovery from her first confinement (June 17) they reached Salzburg at the end of July 1783.

Before his marriage Mozart had made a vow that if ever Constanze became his wife, he would have a new mass of his own composition performed in Salzburg. The work was nearly ready, and the missing numbers having been supplied from one of his older masses, this fine and broadly designed composition (427) was given at the end of August in the Peterskirche, Constanze herself singing the soprano. Opera bufla having been reintroduced in Vienna he began a new opera, 'L'Oca del Cairo' (422), but after some progress found the libretto (by Varesco) so wretched that he let it drop.[36] A second opera, 'Lo Sposo deluso' (430), only reached the fifth number, partly perhaps because he despaired of being able to produce it, as Sarti and Paisiello were then in Vienna, absorbing public attention with the triumph of the latter's 'Il Rè Teodoro.' In the meantime Mozart rendered a service of love to his friend Michael Haydn, who was incapacitated by illness from completing two duets for violin and viola for the Archbishop. The Archbishop characteristically threatened to stop his Concertmeister's salary, but Mozart came to the rescue, and undertook to write the two pieces 'with unmistakable pleasure.' His friend retained his salary, and the Archbishop received the duets (423, 424) as Haydn's. Mozart also took an active interest in his father's pupils—Marchand the violinist of 12 (then playing in Vienna), his sister Margarethe, then 14, afterwards Mme. Danzi, the well-known singer, and a child of 9, the daughter of Brochard the celebrated actor. He also became intimate with Marie Therèse Paradies the blind pianist, who was then in Salzburg, and for whom he afterwards composed a concerto (456). The main object of his visit however was not fulfilled. It was only after long opposition that his father had unwillingly given his consent to his marriage, but Wolfgang hoped that his prejudice against Constanze would disappear on acquaintance; neither his father nor his sister however took to her.

Leaving Salzburg on the 30th of October, and stopping at Lambach for Mozart to play the organ in the monastery, they found Count Thun on the look-out for them at Linz, and made some stay with him, being treated with every consideration. For a concert which Mozart gave in the theatre, he composed in haste a new symphony (425).[37]

In 1785 the father returned his son's visit, staying with him in the Grosse Schulerstrasse (now No. 8) from Feb. 11 to April 25. He was rejoiced to find their domestic arrangements and money matters for the time being in good order. He found a grandson too—'little Karl is very like your brother.' Though not yet on thoroughly good terms with his son or his daughter-in-law, he derived all the old pleasure from his successes as an artist, and listened with delight to his productions. He had come just at the right time, when concerts were succeeding each other as fast as possible, and his son taking part in all; and at the first he attended his eyes filled with tears of happiness at Wolfgang's playing and compositions. The day after his arrival Wolfgang invited his friend Haydn and the two Barons Todi; and his father wrote home a full account of this memorable evening; memorable indeed! for setting aside other considerations, it was not often that two men of such remarkable solidity of character as Leopold Mozart and Haydn could be found together. 'Three new quartets were played,' writes the happy father, 'the three (458, 464, 465) he has added to those we already have (387, 421, 428); they are perhaps a trifle easier, but excellently composed. Herr Haydn said to me, I declare to you before God as a man of honour, that your son is the greatest composer that I know, either personally or by reputation; he has taste, and beyond that the most consummate knowledge of the art of composition.' In return for this avowal Mozart dedicated to Haydn, with a laudatory preface, these six quartets, 'the fruits of long and arduous toil.' 'It is but his due,' he said, 'for from Haydn I first learnt how to compose a quartet.' The success of his pupil Marchand, and the great progress of Aloysia Lange, both as a singer and actress, also afforded pleasure to Leopold Mozart. It is a significant fact that a man of his way of thinking should have joined the Freemasons, avowedly through his son's influence. This however was their last meeting, for soon after his return from Vienna his health began to fail, and on May 28, 1787, he ended a life which had been wholly consecrated to his children.

Mozart the son belonged to the eighth and oldest Freemasons' lodge ('zur gekrönten Hoffnung') in Vienna. His interest in the order was great, indeed he at one time thought of founding a society of his own to be called 'Die Grotte,' and had drawn up the rules. A letter to his father, during his illness, in which he enlarges upon the true significance of death to a Mason, is a proof of the serious light in which he considered his obligations. His connection with the order also inspired many of his compositions. For it he wrote—'Gesellenlied' (468); 'Maurerfreude' (471), a short cantata, at the performance of which his father was present shortly before his death; 'Maurerische Trauermusik' (477), for strings and wind; 'Lied.' with chorus, and a chorus in 3 parts, both with organ (483, 484), for the ceremony at the opening of the 'Neugekrönten Hoffnung' (by a decree of the Emperor Joseph) in 1785; and a short cantata for tenor, with closing chorus (623), composed Nov. 15, 1791, the last of his recorded works which he conducted himself. A short adagio for 2 corni di bassetto and bassoon (410); an adagio for 2 clarinets and 3 corni di bassetto (411); and an unfinished cantata (429) were probably intended for the same.

In March 1785 Mozart produced at the concert of the Tonkünstler Societät, a cantata, 'Davidde penitente' (469), the materials for which he drew from his last unfinished mass (427), writing the Italian words below the Latin, and adding two new airs. There was an object for this work; his name was down at the time for admittance into the Society, but in accordance with the statutes he was rejected, on the ground that he could not produce the certificate of his baptism!

After a long delay he was again gratified by an opportunity of writing for the stage. An opera-buffa had been organised as far back as April 1783, and the Emperor had secured an excellent [38]company; and after a failure the National-Singspiel had been revived in October 1785. A libretto, 'Rudolf von Habsburg,' sent to Mozart from Mannheim remained unused, but at length he and Salieri were requested to supply German and Italian 'pièces de circonstance' for some fêtes in honour of distinguished visitors at Schönbrunn. To Mozart's lot fell 'Der Schauspieldirector' (486), a disjointed comedy by Stephanie junior, produced at Schönbrunn Feb. 7, 1786, and afterwards at the Kärnthnerthor Theatre.[39]

In the next month a gratifying performance of 'Idomeneo' took place at the palace of Prince Auersperg, by a troupe of titled and efficient performers, under Mozart's[40] own supervision. This mark of the favourable disposition of the aristocracy towards him bore fruit, attracting the attention of Lorenzo da Ponte, the well-known dramatist. His proposal to adapt Beaumarchais's 'Mariage de Figaro' for Mozart received the Emperor's consent,—reluctantly given on account of the offensive nature of the plot in the original,—and the first performance of 'Le Nozze di Figaro' (492) took place after violent intrigues, on May 1, 1786. The theatre was crowded, and the audience enthusiastic; several numbers were repeated twice, and the little duet three times, and this went on at succeeding representations till the Emperor prohibited encores.[41] Kelly, who took the parts of Basilio and Don Curzio, writes with great spirit: 'Never was anything more complete than the triumph of Mozart, and his Nozze di Figaro, to which numerous overflowing audiences bore witness. Even at the first full band rehearsal, all present were roused to enthusiasm, and when Benucci came to the fine passage "Cherubino, alia vittoria, alla gloria militar," which he gave with stentorian lungs, the effect was electric, for the whole of the performers on the stage, and those in the orchestra, as if actuated by one feeling of delight, vociferated "Bravo! Bravo, Maestro! Viva, viva, grande Mozart!" Those in the orchestra I thought would never have ceased applauding, by beating the bows of their violins against the music desks.' And Mozart? 'I never shall forget his little animated countenance, when lighted up with the glowing rays of genius; it is as impossible to describe it, as it would be to paint sunbeams.'[42]

And yet, after all this success, nothing was done for him. Earning a living by giving lessons and playing in public was in every respect unsatisfactory. 'You lucky man,' he said to young Gyrowetz as he was starting to Italy, 'and I am still obliged to give lessons to earn a trifle.' Moreover he soon found himself eclipsed on the stage by two new pieces, which for a time absorbed the public entirely; these were Dittersdorf's Singspiel 'Der Apotheker und der Doctor' (July 11), and Martin's 'Cosa rara' (Nov. 17). Again he resolved to go to England, and was again dissuaded by his father. A gleam of light came however from Prague, whither he was invited to see for himself the immense success of his 'Figaro,' produced there first after Vienna, as had been the case with the 'Entführung.' Count Johann Jos. Thun, one of the greatest amateurs in Prague, placed his house at Mozart's disposal, and he joyfully accepted the invitation. His first letter[43] states the condition in which he found Prague, 'the one subject of conversation here is—Figaro; nothing is played, sung, or whistled but—Figaro; nobody goes to any opera but—Figaro; everlastingly Figaro!' He was literally overwhelmed with attentions, and felt himself at the summit of bliss; at the opera, given quite to his satisfaction, he received a perfect ovation. Furthermore two concerts were brilliantly successful; at the first, his new symphony (504) having been loudly applauded, he sat down to the piano, and improvised for full half an hour, rousing the audience to the highest pitch of enthusiasm. Again, and yet once again he had to resume, till, obeying the general acclamation, he finished by extemporising variations on 'Non piu andrai,' which completed his triumph. The receipts also were thoroughly satisfactory. Having made the remark, that he should like to compose an opera for so intelligent and appreciative a public, the impresario Bondini took him at his word, and concluded a contract with him for an opera for the ensuing season, for which he was to receive the usual fee of 100 ducats, and the librettist 50. The distractions of society in Prague took up all his time, and his only compositions while there were nine contredanses for orchestra (510) written for Count Pachta, who locked him in for an hour before dinner for the purpose, and six Teutsche for full orchestra (509).

On his return to Vienna after this magnificent reception, he felt his position more galling than ever; and his desire to visit England was rekindled by the departure of his friends Nancy Storace, and her brother, Kelly, with his own pupil Attwood. They promised to endeavour to secure him some position there, so that he would be able to go without undue risk.

The libretto of 'Figaro' having proved so satisfactory, he applied again to Da Ponte, and this time their choice fell upon 'Don Giovanni.' In September 1787 he and his wife went to Prague, and took lodgings 'Bei den drei Löwen' No. 420 in the Kohlmarkt. But his favourite resort was the vineyard of his friend Duschek at Koschirz near the city, where are still shown his room, and the stone table at which he used to sit working at his score, often in the midst of conversation or skittle playing.[44] Before the production of his new opera, Mozart conducted a festival performance of 'Figaro' on Oct. 14 in honour of the Archduchess Maria Theresia, bride of Prince Anton of Saxony. He was very anxious about the success of his opera, although, as he assured Kucharz the conductor of the orchestra, he had spared neither pains nor labour in order to produce something really good for Prague. On the evening before the representation the overture was still wanting, and he worked at it far into the night, while his wife kept him supplied with punch, and told him fairy-stories to keep him awake. Sleep however overcame him, and he was obliged to rest for a few hours, but at 7 in the morning the copyist received the score, and it was played at sight in the evening. This first performance of 'Don Giovanni' (527) took place on Oct. 29, 1787. On Mozart's appearance in the orchestra he was greeted with enthusiastic applause, and a triple flourish of trumpets, and the opera was accompanied from beginning to end with rapturous marks of approval. He had of course no time for other compositions, but his friend Mme. Duschek locked him into her summerhouse to ensure his writing an aria he had promised her. He revenged himself by making it difficult, and would only give it her on condition that she should sing it at sight. It is one of his finest airs (528).

About the time of his return to Vienna Gluck died (Nov. 15, 1787), and Mozart had reason to hope that some suitable position would now be open to him. But the Emperor was in no hurry. By way however of recognising his recent triumph at Prague, and in order to retain him in Vienna (his hankering after England being well known) he appointed him Kammer-compositor with a salary of 800 gulden[45] (about £80) Mozart looked upon this appointment as a mere beggar's dole, and when, according to custom, he had to send in a sealed letter stating his income, he wrote bitterly 'Too much for what I [46]produce; too little for what I could produce.' 'Don Giovanni' was not given in Vienna till May 7, 1788, and then did not please.[47] Mozart added a new air for Donna Elvira, No. 25 (K. 527), an air for Masetto, No. 26, a short air for Don Ottavio, No. 27, and a duet for Zerlina and Leporello, No. 28.

In spite of the success of his last opera, Mozart's pecuniary condition continued desperate. This is shown convincingly by a letter (June 27) to his friend Puchberg, in which the poor fellow begs piteously for a loan, and speaks of 'gloomy thoughts which he must repel with all his might.' And yet at the very height of his distress he manifests extraordinary power. Besides other compositions, he wrote within six weeks (June 26 to Aug. 10) his three last and finest symphonies, in E♭, G minor, and C (Jupiter) (543, 550, 551). But other very congenial work awaited him. From the beginning of his life in Vienna he had been acquainted with van Swieten, director of the Hofbibliothek, who was a great amateur of classical music, and who with a small band of friends devoted every Sunday morning to studying the works of the old masters. He himself sang the [48]treble, Mozart (who sat at the piano) the alto, and Starzer and Teyber tenor and bass. It was for these practices that Mozart sent for his MS. book of pieces by Michael Haydn and Eberlin, and afterwards for the fugues of Bach and Handel. They also served as an incentive to him to compose pianoforte pieces of a solid description; several remained fragments, but among those completed are—Prelude and Fugue, à 3, in C (394); Fugue in G minor (401); Claviersuite in the style of Bach and Handel (399); an arrangement of the fugue in C minor (originally for 2 P.F.s) for string-quartet, with a short adagio (546). He also arranged 5 fugues from Bach's Wohltemperirte Clavier for string-quartet (405).

By 1788, however, van Swieten's practices had assumed larger proportions. At his instigation a number of gentlemen united to provide the necessary funds for performances of oratorios with chorus and orchestra. The fine large hall of the Hofbibliothek served as their concert-room, Mozart conducted, and young Weigl took the pianoforte. It was for these performances that he added wind parts to Handel's 'Acis and Galatea'[49] (Nov. 1788), 'Messiah' (March 1789), 'Ode to St. Cecilia's Day,' and 'Alexander's Feast' (July, 1790).

Such work as this, however, did nothing to improve his pecuniary condition; and in the hope that the journey might bring to light some means of extricating himself, he gratefully accepted an invitation from his pupil and patron Prince Karl Lichnowsky, to accompany him to Berlin.

Leaving Vienna on April 8, 1789, their first halting-place worth noting was Dresden, where Mozart played at court, exciting great admiration and receiving 100 ducats. He was well received also in private circles, and the general interest was increased by a competition with J. W. Hassler of Erfurt, then distinguished as pianist and organist.[50] Without considering him a formidable opponent, Mozart acknowledged his talent. Here also he made the acquaintance of the poet Körner, and his sister-in-law Dora Stock, who drew a charming portrait of Mozart with a silver pencil. He produced a still greater effect in Leipzig, where he made the acquaintance of Rochlitz, who has preserved innumerable interesting traits both of the man and the artist. On April 22 he played the organ in the St. Thomas Church, Doles the Cantor and Görner the organist pulling out the stops for him. All present were enchanted, especially Doles, who could almost have believed in the restoration to life of his teacher, the great Bach himself. In return he made the choir of the Thomas-school sing Bach's 8-part motet 'Singet dem Herrn,' at which Mozart exclaimed with delight, 'Here is something from which one may still learn,' and having secured the parts of the other motets (no score being at hand), he spread them out before him, and became absorbed in study.

On their arrival in Berlin the travellers went straight to Potsdam, and Prince Lichnowsky presented Mozart to the King, who had been anxiously expecting him. Frederic William II. was musical, played the cello well, (he was a pupil of the elder Duport,) and had a wellselected orchestra. The opera was conducted by Reichardt, and the concerts by Duport. The King's favourable anticipations were fully realised in Mozart, but Reichardt and Duport were set against him by his candidly replying to the King's question, what he thought of the band, 'it contains great virtuosi, but if the gentlemen would play together, they would make a better effect.' The King apparently laid this remark to heart, for he offered Mozart the post of Capellmeister, with a salary of 3000 thalers (about £600). After a moment's hesitation, he replied with emotion, 'How could I abandon my good Emperor?'

In the meantime, preparations having been made for a concert, Mozart went again to Leipzig. The programme consisted entirely of his own unpublished compositions, and at the close he improvised by general request; but the audience was a scanty one. For Engel, the Court-organist, he composed a charming little Gigue for pianoforte (574). Returning to Berlin on May 19, he rushed to the theatre, where his 'Entführung' was being performed, and taking a seat near the orchestra, made observations in a half-audible tone; the 2nd violins, however, playing D sharp instead of D, he called out, 'Confound it, do take D!' and was recognised immediately. He was much pleased to meet his pupil Hummel, who only became aware while playing of his master's presence at his concert. This time Mozart played before the Queen, but gave no public performance. The King sent him 100 Friedrichs d'or, and asked him to compose some quartets for him. As to the pecuniary results of the tour, Mozart wrote laconically to his wife, 'On my return you must be glad to have me, and not think about money.' He started on his homeward journey on May 28, and passing through Dresden and Prague, reached Vienna on June 4, 1789. He set to work immediately on the first quartet (575) for the King of Prussia, and received a kind letter of thanks, with a gold snuffbox and a second 100 Friedrichs d'or. The two others (589, 590) followed in May and June, 1790. His position still continued a most melancholy one, his wife's constant illnesses adding to his expenses. Again he applies to his friend and brother freemason 'for immediate assistance. I am still most unfortunate! Always hovering between hope and anxiety!' In this state of things he yielded to the pressure put upon him by his friends, and informing the Emperor of the offer of the King of Prussia, tendered his resignation. Surprised and disconcerted, the Emperor exclaimed, 'What, Mozart, are you going to leave me?' and he answered with emotion, 'Your Majesty, I throw myself upon your kindness—I remain!' This circumstance, and the success of 'Figaro,'[51] revived after a long pause, probably induced the Emperor to order a new opera, for which Da Ponte again furnished the libretto (said to have been founded on recent occurrences in Vienna). This was the opera buffa 'Così fan tutte' (588), produced Jan. 26, 1790, but soon interrupted by the Emperor's serious illness, terminating in death on Feb. 20. Musicians had little to expect from his successor, Leopold II, and there was no break in the clouds which overshadowed poor Mozart. The rough draft is still preserved of an application for the post of second Capellmeister, but he did not obtain it. The magistrate did indeed grant (May 9, 1791) his request to be appointed assistant, 'without pay for the present,' to the cathedral Capellmeister, which gave him the right to succeed to this lucrative post on the death of Hoffmann the Capellmeister, but Hoffmann outlived him.

The coronation of the Emperor Leopold at Frankfurt on Oct. 9, was the occasion of his last artistic tour. Having pawned his plate to procure funds, he started on Sept. 26, and after a journey of six days arrived in the ancient Reichstadt. He gave a concert on Oct. 14 in the Stadttheater, the programme consisting entirely of his own compositions. During a short stay made in Mayence, Tischbein took a life-size half-length portrait. On the return journey he visited Mannheim and Munich, where, at the Elector's request, he played at a court concert given in honour of the King of Naples. He had not been invited to play before the latter in Vienna, and he wrote to his wife with some bitterness, 'It sounds well for the court of Vienna, that members of their own family should hear me for the first time at a foreign court!' Soon after his arrival in Vienna, Mozart had to take leave of his best friend, for Salomon, the impresario, had come in person to carry[52] Haydn off to London. With a heavy heart he said good-bye to the only artist who understood him thoroughly and honestly wished to see him prosper. They were never to meet again.

His affairs were now worse than ever; the Berlin journey had produced nothing, and a speculation on which he had set his hopes failed. And yet he went on working his hardest. A series of his best and most varied compositions, including the beautiful motet 'Ave Verum' (618)—written at Baden, near Vienna, afterwards Beethoven's favourite resort—were but the forerunners of the 'Requiem' and the 'Zauberflöte. His last appearance as a virtuoso (he had not played the piano in public since 1788) was in all probability at a concert given by Bähr, the clarinetplayer, on March 4, 1791. Perhaps he played his last Concerto in B♭ (595) composed in January. In this very month of March, Schikaneder, the Salzburg acquaintance of 1780, and now manager of the little theatre, scarcely more than a booth, in the grounds of Prince Starhemberg's house in the suburb of Wieden, began to urge Mozart to compose a magic opera to a libretto he had in hand, which he hoped would extricate him from his embarrassments. Ever ready to help anybody, Mozart agreed, and set to work on the score, the greater part of which was written in a little pavilion[53] near the theatre, and in a summer-house in the little village of Josefsdorf, on the Kahlenberg, close to Vienna. To keep him in good humour, Schikaneder provided him with wine, and amusing society,—his enjoyment of which good things, grossly exaggerated, has tended more than anything to throw discredit upon his character.

In July, while hard at work, he received a visit from a stranger, who, enjoining secrecy, commissioned him to write a Requiem for an unknown individual.[54] The price (50, or according to some, 100 ducats) was fixed, and Mozart set to work with the more ardour for having composed no church-music since the mass of 1783. Again he was interrupted by an urgent invitation from the Estates of Bohemia to compose an opera for the approaching coronation of Leopold II. at Prague. Mozart was on the point of stepping into the travelling carriage when the mysterious messenger suddenly stood before him, and asked what had become of the requiem. Touched and distressed by the question, Mozart assured the man that he would do his best on his return; and so saying departed with his pupil Süssmayer. He worked hard at the opera during the journey, Süssmayer filling in the recitativo secco. The coronation took place on Sept. 6, and 'La Clemenza di Tito' (621) was performed the same evening in the National theatre, in presence of their Majesties and a select audience, who were too much absorbed by the occurrences of the day to pay great attention to the opera. Indeed, the Empress is said to have made very disparaging remarks on the 'porcheria' of German music. Mozart, who was not well when he came to Prague, suffered severely from the strain, but he spent a few pleasant hours with his friends, and parted from them with tears.

Disappointed and suffering he reached home in the middle of September, and at once set to work with energy at Schikaneder's opera. The overture and introductory march to the 2nd act were finished Sept. 28, and two days later, on the 30th, the 'Zauberflöte' (620) was given for the first time. Mozart conducted at the piano, Süssmayer turned over for him, and Henneberg, who had conducted the rehearsals, played the bells. It was coldly received at the outset, and at the end of the first act Mozart, looking pale and agitated, went on the stage to Schikaneder, who endeavoured to comfort him.[55] The audience recovered from their coldness so far as to call for Mozart at the close, but he was with difficulty persuaded to appear before the curtain. The interest in the opera increased with each representation, and soon the 'Zauberflöte' was as great a 'draw' as Schikaneder could desire.

Mozart now hoped to be able to devote his whole time to the Requiem, but his late exertions and excitement had proved too much for him, sorely tried as he was in other respects. Fainting fits came on, and he fell into a state of deep depression.[56] His wife tried in vain to raise his spirits. During a drive in the Prater, he suddenly began to talk of death, and said with tears in his eyes that he was writing the Requiem for himself. 'I feel certain,' he continued, 'that I shall not be here long; some one has poisoned me, I am convinced. I cannot shake off the idea.'[57] By the advice of his physicians, his terrified wife took the score away from him, and he rallied sufficiently to compose on Nov. 15 a cantata (623) for his Lodge to words by Schikaneder. He even conducted the performance himself; but the improvement was of short duration, and he took to his bed. Now, when it was too late, favourable prospects opened before him. He was informed that some of the nobility of Hungary had clubbed together to guarantee him a yearly sum, and at the same time a subscription was got up in Amsterdam, for which he was to furnish compositions to become the property of the subscribers. When the hour for the theatre arrived, he would follow in imagination the performance of the 'Zauberflöte,' and the Requiem continued to occupy his mind. On Dec. 4 he had the score brought to him in bed, and tried a passage, singing the alto himself, while his brother-in-law Hofer took the tenor, and Schack and Gerl from the theatre the soprano and bass. When they got to the first few bars of the Lacrimosa, it suddenly came home to him that he should never finish it, and he burst out crying, and put away the score. In the evening Süssmayer came in, and he gave him some directions about the Requiem, with which his thoughts seemed constantly occupied, for even while dozing he puffed out his cheeks as if trying to imitate the drums. Towards midnight he suddenly sat up with his eyes fixed; then he turned his head on one side, and appeared to fall asleep. By one o'clock in the morning of Dec. 5, 1791, his spirit had fled. He died of malignant typhus fever. At three o'clock in the afternoon of the 6th his body was removed from the house of mourning[58] to St. Stephen's; the service was held in the open air, as was the custom with the poorest class of funeral, and van Swieten, Sussmayer, Salieri, Roser, and Orsler, stood round the bier.[59] They followed as far as the city gates, and then turned back, as a violent storm was raging, and the hearse went its way unaccompanied to the churchyard of St. Marx. Thus, without a note of music, forsaken by all he held dear, the remains of this prince of harmony were committed to the earth, not even in a grave of his own, but in the common paupers' grave (Allgemeine [60]Grube). The Lodge to which he belonged held in his honour a ceremonial worthy of the deceased; the 'Wiener Zeitung' announced 'the irreparable loss' in a few eloquent lines, and afterwards inserted the following epitaph:—

Qui iacet hic, Chordis Infans Miracula Mundi
Auxit et Orpheum Vir superavit, Abi!
Et Animae eius bene precare.

To the compositions already mentioned in Vienna must be added the following:—

Airs for soprano (368, 374); concert arias for his sister-in-law, Mme. Lange (383, 416. 538); air with P.F. obl. for Nancy Storace (505);[61] ditto for Adamberger, the tenor (431); bass airs for Fischer (432, 512), Gottfried von Jacquin (513), Gerl (who sang Sarastro), with contrabasso obligate for Pischlberger (612), and Benucci (584). Airs inserted in operas by other composers: 2 for Mme. Lange in Anfossi's 'Il curioso indiscreto' (418, 419); bass air for Albertarelli in 'Le Gelosie fortunate' (Anfossi) (541); for Mlle. Villeneuve in Cimarosa's 'I due Baroni' (578), and in Martin's 'Il burbero di buon enore' (582, 583); for his sister-in-law Mme. Hofer in Paisiello's 'Barbiere' (580). Trios for the Jacquin family (436–39); comic, nicknamed the Bandel-Terzet (441); for Bianchi's 'Villanella rapita,' trio (480) and quartet (479). 20 Lieder for a single voice, including 'Das Veilchen' (476);[62] 'Abendempfindung' (523), 'An Chloe' (524); 12 canons.

Instrumental: serenade for wind instruments (375); Kleine Nachtmusik (525); 3 marches (408); dances, 25 Nos.; 'Ein musikalischer Spass' (522); 4 string-quintets (515, 516, 593, 614); 1 quintet for clarinet, 2 violins, viola, and cello (561); quintet for harmonica, flute, oboe, viola, and cello (617); trio (divertimento) for violin, viola, and cello (563); rondo for violin (373); 4 horn concertos (412, 417, 447, 495); clarinet concerto (622). For P.F.: sonata in C minor (457) with Introductory fantasia (475); 3 sonatas (515, 570, 576); Allegro and Andante (533); 2 fantasias (396, 397); Adagio in B minor (540); 2 rondos (485, 611); variations (398, 455, 460, 500, 573, 613); 6 sonatas with violin, completed in Vienna, and published by subscription, Mozart editing (296, 376–380); 7 ditto (402–4, 454, 481, 526, 547); sonatas for 4 hands (497, 521); Andante with 5 variations (501); for a musical clock (also arranged for 4 hands) Adagio and Allegro (594); fantasia (680); Andante (616); 6 trios with violin and cello (442, 496, 502, 542, 548, 564); trio with clarinet and viola (498); 2 quartets, G minor and E flat (478, 493); quintet in E flat, with oboe, clarinet, horn, and bassoon (452); 17 concertos (413–15, 449–51, 453, 456, 459, 466, 467, 482, 488, 491, 503, 537, 595); concert-rondo (382), printed as the last movement of an earlier concerto (175).

In contemplating Mozart as an artist we are first struck by the gradual growth of his powers. God bestowed on him extraordinary genius, but nearly as extraordinary is the manner in which his father fostered and developed it. We have seen him laying a solid foundation by the study of Fux's Gradus, and anxiously enforcing early practice in technique. We have also seen Mozart studying in Salzburg the works of contemporaneous composers. In Italy his genius rapidly mastered the forms of dramatic and ancient church music; van Swieten's influence led him to Bach, whose works at Leipzig were a new-found treasure, and to Handel, of whom he said, 'He knows how to make great effects better than any of us; when he chooses he can strike like a thunderbolt.' How familiar he was with the works of Emanuel Bach is shown by his remark to Doles, 'He is the father, we are his children; those of us who can do anything worth having have learnt it from him, and those who do not see this are ——.' The eagerness with which he laid hold of Benda's melodramas as something new has already been described.

His handwriting was small, neat, and always the same, and when a thing was once written down he seldom made alterations. 'He wrote music as other people write letters,' said his wife, and this explains his apparently inexhaustible power of composing, although he always declared that he was not spared that labour and pains from which the highest genius is not exempt. His great works he prepared long beforehand; sitting up late at night, he would improvise for hours at the piano, and 'these were the true hours of creation of his divine melodies.' His thoughts were in fact always occupied with music; 'You know,' he wrote to his father, 'that I am, so to speak, swallowed up in music, that I am busy with it all day long—speculating, studying, considering.' But this very weighing and considering often prevented his working a thing out; a failing with which his methodical father reproached him:—'If you will examine your conscience properly, you will find that you have postponed many a work for good and all.' When necessary, however, he could compose with great rapidity, and without any preparation, improvising on paper as it were. Even during the pauses between games of billiards or skittles he would be accumulating ideas, for his inner world was beyond the reach of any outer disturbance. During his wife's confinement he would spend his time between her bed-side and his writing=table. When writing at night he could not get on without punch, of which he was very fond, and 'of which,' says Kelly,[63] 'I have seen him take copious draughts.' At the same time he would get his wife to tell him stories, and would laugh heartily.

We have already remarked on his powers as a virtuoso on the piano, organ, and violin, and also on his preference for the viola. He considered the first requisites for a pianist to be a quiet steady hand, the power of singing the melody, clearness and neatness in the ornaments, and of course the necessary technique. It was the combination of virtuoso and composer which made his playing so attractive. His small well-shaped hands glided easily and gracefully over the keyboard, delighting the eye nearly as much as the ear. Clementi declared that he had never heard anybody play with so much mind and charm as Mozart. Dittersdorf expressed his admiration of the union of taste and science, in which he was corroborated by the Emperor Joseph. Haydn said with tears in his eyes, that as long as he lived he should never forget Mozart's playing, 'it went to the heart.' No-one who was fortunate enough to hear him improvise ever forgot the impression. 'To this hour, old as I am,' said [64]Rieder, 'those harmonies, infinite and heavenly, ring in my ears, and I go to the grave fully convinced that there was but one Mozart.' His biographer Niemetschek, expresses himself in similar terms, 'If I might have the fulfilment of one wish on earth, it would be to hear Mozart improvise once more on the piano; those who never heard him cannot have the faintest idea of what it was.' Vienna was the very place for him in this respect; when he was thinking of settling there, his father, with characteristic prudence, warned him of the fickleness of the public, but he replied that his department was too favourite a one, 'this certainly is pianoforte-land.' And he was right; from his first appearance to the last, the favour of the public never wavered. As a teacher he was not in much request, Steffan, Kozeluch, Righini, and others, having more pupils though charging the same terms as he. The fact is, he was neither methodical nor obsequious enough; it was only when personally attracted by talent, earnestness, and a desire to get on, that he taught willingly. Many people preferred to profit by his remarks in social intercourse, or took a few lessons merely to be able to call themselves his pupils. Fräulein Auernhammer is an instance of the first, and the celebrated physician Joseph Frank of the second. With such pupils as these he used to say, 'You will profit more by hearing me play, than by playing yourself,' and acted accordingly. Among his best lady pupils were the Countesses Rumbeck and Zichy, Frau von Trattnern, wife of the wealthy bookseller, Franziska von Jacquin, afterwards Frau von Lagusius, and Barbara Ployer. Hummel came to him in 1787, he lived in the house, and his instruction was most irregular, being given only as time and inclination served; but personal intercourse amply supplied any deficiencies of method. Mozart could always hear him play, and played constantly before him, took him about with him, and declared that the boy would soon outstrip him as a pianist. Hummel left in Nov. 1788 to make his first tour with his father.[65] Of Thomas Attwood, who came to him from Italy in 1785 for a course of composition, and became his favourite pupil, he said to Kelly, 'Attwood is a young man for whom I have a sincere affection and esteem; he conducts himself with great propriety, and I feel much pleasure in telling you, that he partakes more of my style than any other scholar I ever had, and I predict that he will prove a sound [66]musician.' Kelly, who wrote pretty songs, wished to have some instruction from Mozart in composition, but he dissuaded him from it, as his profession of the stage ought to occupy all his attention. 'Reflect,' he said, 'a little knowledge is a dangerous thing…; do not disturb your natural gifts. Melody is the essence of music; I compare a good melodist to a fine racer, and counterpointists to hack post-horses: therefore be advised, let well alone, and remember the old Italian proverb—Chi sa più, meno [67]sa.' Mozart also taught composition to a few ladies, a cousin of Abbé Stadler's among the number. The MS. book[68] he used with her is in the Hofbibliothek, and is interesting as showing the cleverness with which, in the midst of jokes and playful remarks, he managed to keep his lady pupils to their grammar. With more advanced pupils he of course acted differently. Attwood began by laying before him a book of his own compositions, and Mozart looked it through, criticising as he went, and with the words, 'I should have done this so,' re-wrote whole passages, and in fact re-composed the book.[69]

He held regular concerts at his own house on Sundays, his friends being invited, and amateurs admitted on payment.

Of his intercourse with other artists on his tours we have spoken, but something remains to be said of his relations with his brethren in Vienna. Of Bonno, at whose house his newest symphony was twice performed in 1781 with an unusually large orchestra (60 strings, wind-instruments doubled, and 8 bassoons), Mozart said, 'he is an honourable old man.' Gluck appreciated him, and was inclined to be friendly, but they were never intimate. At his request the 'Entführung' was performed out of its turn, and 'Gluck paid me many compliments upon it. I dine with him to-morrow.' On another occasion Gluck was at Mme. Lange's concert, where Mozart played. 'He could not say enough in praise of the symphony and aria (both by Mozart), and invited us all four (the Mozarts and Langes) to dinner on Sunday.' Salieri was unfriendly. He had great influence with the Emperor, and could easily have secured an appointment for Mozart, but though astute enough not to show his dislike openly, he put obstacles in his way. Other still more bitter opponents were Kozeluch, Kreibich, and Strack, who with Salieri had it all their own way in the Emperor's music-room. Kozeluch also hated Haydn, and this inspired Mozart with a contempt he took no pains to conceal, and which Kozeluch never forgave. We have already spoken of the relations between Mozart and Haydn: 'It was quite touching,' says Niemetschek, 'to hear Mozart speak of the two Haydns, or of any other great master; it was like listening to an admiring pupil, rather than to the great Mozart.' He recognised in the same generous way the merit of those who merely crossed his path, such as Paisiello and Sarti, with both of whom he was on very friendly terms. Kelly[70] dined at Mozart's house with Paisiello, and was a witness of their mutual esteem. Mozart's pupil, Barbara Ployer, played some of his compositions to Paisiello, who in his turn asked for the score of 'Idomeneo.' Of Sarti, Mozart writes to his father, 'He is an honest upright man;[71] I have played a great deal to him already, including variations on one of his own airs (460) with which he was much pleased.' He immortalised this very theme by introducing it into the second Finale of 'Don Giovanni'; and did a similar service for a theme from Martin's 'Cosa rara,' an opera which at that time threw even Mozart into the shade. Of that composer, then a universal favourite, he said: 'much that he writes is really very pretty, but in ten years time his music will be entirely forgotten.' Mozart took a great interest in all striving young artists, augmented in the case of Stephen Storace by his esteem for his sister Nancy, the first Susanna in 'Figaro.' His sympathy with Gyrowetz has been mentioned: of Pleyel's first quartets he wrote to his father, 'They are very well written, and really pleasing; it is easy to see who his master was (Haydn). It will be a good thing for music if Pleyel should in time replace Haydn.' When Beethoven came to Vienna for the first time in the spring of 1787, and found an opportunity of playing before Mozart, he is said to have observed to the bystanders, 'Mark him; he will make a noise in the world.' Of Thomas Linley, with whom, as we have seen, he made friends in Florence, he said, 'That he was a true genius, and had he lived would have been one of the greatest ornaments of the musical world.'[72]

Mozart was short, but slim and well-proportioned, with small feet and good hands; as a young man he was thin, which made his nose look large, but later in life he became stouter. His head was somewhat large in proportion to his body, and he had a profusion of fine hair, of which he was rather vain. He was always pale, and his face was a pleasant one, though not striking in any way. His eyes were well-formed, and of a good size, with fine eyebrows and lashes, but as a rule they looked languid, and his gaze was restless and absent. He was very particular about his clothes, and wore a good deal of embroidery and jewelry; from his elegant appearance Clementi took him for one of the court chamberlains. On the whole he was perhaps insignificant-looking, but he did not like to be made aware of the fact, or to have his small stature commented upon. When playing the whole man became at once a different and a higher order of being. His countenance changed, his eye settled at once into a steady calm gaze, and every movement of his muscles conveyed the sentiment expressed in his playing. He was fond of active exercise, which was the more necessary as he suffered materially in health from his habit of working far into the night. At one time he took a regular morning ride, but had to give it up, not being able to conquer his nervousness. It was replaced by billiards and skittles, his fondness for which we have mentioned. He even had a billiard-table in his own house: 'Many and many a game have I played with him,' says Kelly, 'but always came off second best.' When no one else was there he would play with his wife, or even by himself. His favourite amusement of all however was dancing, for which Vienna afforded ample opportunities. This too Kelly mentions (i. 226), 'Mme. Mozart told me that great as his genius was, he was an enthusiast in dancing, and often said that his taste lay in that art, rather than in music.' He was particularly fond of masked balls, and had quite a talent for masquerading in character, as he showed at the Rathhaus balls in Salzburg. In 1783 he sent home for a harlequin's suit, to play the character in a pantomime got up by some friends for the Carnival Monday; Mme. Lange and her husband were Columbine and Pierrot, Merk, an old dancing-master who trained the company, was Pantaloon, and the painter Grossi the Dottore. Mozart devised the whole thing, and composed the music, which was of course very simple; thirteen numbers have been preserved (446).

In society Mozart found amusement of the highest kind, and inspiration, as well as affection and true sympathy. No house offered him so much of these as that of Countess Thun, 'die charmanteste, liebste Dame, die ich in meinem Leben gesehen,' of whom Burney, Reichardt, and George Forster, wrote in the highest terms. Other associates were the Countess's son-in-law and Mozart's pupil Prince Karl Lichnowsky, Hofrath von Born, Baron Otto von Gemmingen, Hofrath von Spielmann, Prince Kaunitz, Count Cobenzl, Field-marshal Haddik, Geheimrath von Kees, who had weekly orchestral concerts at his house, the botanist Jacquin, and his son and daughter [Jacquin, von], Count Hatzfeld, an intimate friend who played in his quartets, Kaufmann Bridi, a good tenor who sung in 'Idomeneo,' the families Greiner, Martinez, and Ployer, all of whom had constant music, and van Swieten, who has been mentioned already. Another great admirer of his was Barisani the physician, 'that noble man, my best and dearest friend, who saved my life' (when seriously ill in 1784), and whose unexpected death in 1787 affected him much. One can quite understand that the refreshment of social intercourse was a real necessity after his hard brain-work. On such occasions he was full of fun, ready at a moment's notice to pour out a stream of doggrel rhymes or irresistibly droll remarks; in short he was a frank open-hearted child, whom it was almost impossible to identify with Mozart the great artist. His brother-in-law Lange[73] says that he was most full of fun during the time he was occupied with his great works. It has been reiterated ad nauseam that Mozart was a drunkard, whose indulgence in this and cognate vices brought him to an early [74]grave, but that such a charge was totally unfounded no one who has studied his life can doubt for a moment. That, like other people, he enjoyed a good glass of wine nobody can deny, but his laborious life and the prodigious number of his compositions convincingly prove that he was never given up to excess. Those[75] who accused him of intemperance also magnified his debts tenfold when he died, and thus inflicted grievous injury on his widow. These 'friends' propagated the worst reports as to his domestic affairs and constant embarrassments. Undoubtedly his wife was a bad manager, and this was a serious defect in a household which only acquired a regular income (800 fl.!) in 1788, and whose resources before and after that time were most irregular. His wife's constant illnesses too were a great additional burden. Though naturally unfitted for anything of the kind, he made many serious attempts to regulate his expenses, and would every now and then keep strict accounts of income and [76]expenditure, but these good resolutions did not last. As Jahn remarks with point, how could he when writing to Puchberg for assistance (July 17, 1789) have appealed to his friend's knowledge of his character and honesty, if these exaggerations had been true? In most cases he was led astray by sheer good-nature, as he never could refuse any one in need. His kindness was grievously abused by false friends, whose acquaintance was damaging to his character, but he never learned prudence. The worst offender in this respect was Stadler, the eminent clarinet-player, who often dined at his table, and repeatedly wheedled money out of him under pretext of poverty. After all that had passed, Mozart composed a concerto (622) for Stadler's tour, finishing it two days only before the production of the Zauberflöte, when he was of course particularly hard pressed.

His religious sentiments, more especially his views on death, are distinctly stated in a letter to his father at first hearing of his illness. 'As death, strictly speaking, is the true end and aim of our lives, I have for the last two years made myself so well acquainted with this true, best friend of mankind, that his image no longer terrifies, but calms and consoles me. And I thank God for giving me the opportunity (you [77]understand) of learning to look upon death as the key which unlocks the gate of true bliss. I never lie down to rest without thinking that, young as I am, before the dawn of another day I may be no more; and yet nobody who knows me would call me morose or discontented. For this blessing I thank my Creator every day, and wish from my heart that I could share it with all my fellow-men.'

Mozart has often been compared with other great men, Shakespeare, Goethe, Beethoven, Haydn, etc., but the truest parallel of all is that between him and Raphael. In the works of both we admire the same marvellous beauty and refinement, the same pure harmony and ideal truthfulness; we also recognise in the two men the same intense delight in creation, which made them regard each fresh work as a sacred task, and the same gratitude to their Maker for His divine gift of genius. The influence of each upon his art was immeasurable; as painting has but one Raphael, so music has but one Mozart.

In reviewing Mozart's instrumental compositions, we will first consider those for pianoforte. They comprise all the different branches, and are thoroughly suited to the instrument—grateful, and for the present state of technique, easy; they contain no mere bravura-writing, the passages being for the most part founded on the scale, or on broken chords. In playing them, clearness, taste, and the power of singing on the instrument are required. In variations, written almost entirely for pupils and amateurs, he employs for the most part the melismatic style. His themes were taken from well-known pieces, such as Fischer's minuet, and airs by Paisiello, Gluck, Sarti, Duport, etc. A good many that were not his were circulated under his name, a proof of the demand for them. Of these only two need be specified, one by Forster on a theme from Sarti's opera 'I finti Eredi'; the other by Eberl, on 'Zu Steffen sprach im Traume,' from Umlauf's 'Irrlicht.' Of three Rondos the last, in A minor (511) is well known; it is characterised throughout by a tenderness which makes it most attractive. Two Fantasias (396, 397), and a short sustained Adagio (540) are almost improvisations; a third Fantasia forms the prelude to an excellent fugue in the style of Bach (394); a fourth (475) full of depth and earnestness, was united by Mozart himself with the sonata in C minor (457). The charming Gigue (574) is well known; but a P.F. Suite in the style of Bach and Handel (499) was unfortunately not finished; the Abbé Stadler completed a more formal and abstract Fugue (401). In his Sonatas of the Viennese period Mozart retained the conventional three movements; they overflow with melody, but the last movements, generally in the form of an easy rondo or variations, are as a rule not much worked out. The C minor (457), already mentioned, is full of fire and passion, not excepting the last movement, and already indicates what Beethoven was destined to do for the sonata. Two others in B♭ and D (570, 576), both pleasing, lively and easy, also deserve mention. Sonatas by others were published under his name, for instance, one in C minor (Köchel's Anhang, 204) recommended by Czerny in his 'Pianoforteschule' (iv. 162), even though of doubtful authenticity, and afterwards published by Artaria with the composer's name—'Anton Eberl, œuvre I.' Another favourite one is in B♭ (Köchel's Anhang 136), partly put together from Mozart's concertos by A. E. Müller as op. 26. The most striking sonata for four hands is the last but one in F (497). Two pieces for a musical clock (594, 608) ordered by Count Deym for Müller's Kunstcabinet, are only known in the P.F. arrangement for four hands; they belong to the close of his life, and the earnestness of purpose and thoroughness of technique which we find in them show how conscientiously Mozart executed such works to order. For two pianos we have a lively sonata in D (448), and an energetic fugue in C minor (426) arranged by Mozart for string-quartet with introductory adagio (546). The Sonatas for P.F. and violin were generally written for his lady-pupils (the violin at that time was, generally speaking, a man's instrument). They are neither deep nor learned, but interesting from their abundant melody and modulations. One of the finest is that in B♭ (454) composed in 1784 for Mdlle. Strinasacchi; the last, in F (547), is 'for beginners'; the last but one in E♭ (481), is also easy, and contains in the first movement the favourite subject which he treats in the finale of the Jupiter Symphony. The P.F. Trios were intended for amateur meetings; the most important is the one in (542) composed in 1788 for his friend Puchberg. The one in E♭ (498) with clarinet and viola has been already mentioned; they were all written between 1786 and 1788. Broader in design and more powerful in expression are the two Quartets in G minor and E♭ (478, 493), especially the first, which is effective even at the present day. The Quintet in E♭ with oboe, clarinet, horn, and bassoon (45 2), composed in 1784, is particularly charming. Mozart played it to Paisiello, and wrote to his father 'I consider it the best I have yet written.' His Concertos, however, are the works which best represent him as a composer for the pianoforte. Their merit is incontestable, the solo instrument and the orchestra being welded into an organic whole. The first four were composed in 1767; six between 1773 and 1777; and the remaining seventeen in Vienna. Of the latter, the first three (413–415) were published in 1783 by Mozart himself; thirteen were composed between 1784 and 1788, and the last in B♭ (595) in 1791. The last but one in D (537) is the 'Coronation concerto,' which he is said to have played at Frankfort, though according to other authorities it was that in F (459). The best and most popular are those in D minor (466), in C (467), C minor (491), and in C (503). The characteristics of the concertos maybe thus summarised—those in F, A, C (413–415), C minor (449) and B♭ (456) are easiest of comprehension for a large audience; those in B♭, G, and A (450, 453, 488) bright and pleasing; those in D minor and C minor (466, 491) passionate and agitated; those in E♭ and B♭ (482, 595) serious and sustained; those in C and D (503, 537), brilliant and showy; the one in C (467) grand and poetic. The following have been already mentioned—Concerto for two P.F.s in E♭ (365) composed in 1780, fine in the first and lively in the last movement; ditto for three P.F.s in F (242) composed 1776, and arranged by Mozart for two P.F.s with cadenzas; and a Concert-rondo in D (382), printed as the last movement of the concerto in D (175).

We now pass to the compositions for strings and wind. The Duets are few; and include those composed for Michael Haydn. The only Trio for violin, viola, and cello, in E♭ (563) composed in 1788, is in six movements, like a divertimento; it is broadly designed, and worked out with the greatest zeal and care, 'a true [78]cabinet-picture.' Of the first sixteen Quartets for two violins, viola, and cello, that in D minor (173), composed in 1773, rises obviously to a higher level. It was only after a pause of nine years (Nov. 1782) that Mozart resumed this branch of composition with the six dedicated to Haydn, each one a gem. Such however was not the popular verdict at the time; a critic of the day[79] found them 'much too highly spiced'—and asks 'whose palate can stand that for any length of time?' Prince Grassalkowics tore up the parts in a rage at finding that they really contained the hideous stuff which was being played before him; and they were returned to Artaria from Italy as so full of mistakes that it was impossible to play from them. The chief stumblingblock was the much-abused introduction to the last quartet. In his next one, in D (499), Mozart tried to accommodate himself to the wishes of the public. The last three, in D, B♭, and F (575, 589, 590), were composed for the King of Prussia at a time when he was nearly crushed beneath a load of care and poverty, of which, however, the works bear no trace. The king's favourite instrument, the cello, has more than its full share of work, and in spite of the fine treatment and wealth of invention this is injurious to the character of the quartet. The Adagio with fugue (546) has been already noticed. The Quartets for flute and strings (285, 298), and for oboe obligato (370) are easy of execution, and of no special importance.

The Quintets must all be ascribed to external influences: Mozart invariably doubled the viola, instead of the cello as Boccherini did. The first, in B♭ (46), was written in Vienna[80] in 1768, and the autograph shows his still unformed boyish hand; the next, dated five years later, is in B♭ (174); and the third, in C minor (406), an arrangement of the eight-part serenade for wind instruments (388), follows ten years later. Of those belonging to 1787 in C and G minor (515, 516), the latter full of passion and movement, is the ne plus ultra of its kind. The two last, in D and E♭ (593, 614), were written in December 1790 and April 1791, 'at the urgent request of an amateur,' whose object evidently was to give assistance in a delicate manner to the hard-pressed composer; both show the clearness and firmness of the master-hand, although the end was so near. Three other Quintets must be included in this series; one in E♭ (407) composed in 1787 for Leitgeb the horn-player, with only one violin, and a French horn or cello; another in A (581), the charming 'Stadler quintet,' for clarinet, two violins, viola, and cello, completed Sept. 29, 1789; and a third in C minor (617) for glass harmonica, flute, oboe, viola, and cello, composed in May 1791 for Kirchgassner. The accompanying instruments are obviously selected with a view to the special timbre of the solo, an effect which is lost by substituting the piano.

We have already seen that at the time he was working hard at the violin, Mozart composed six Concertos for it—207, 211, 216, 218, 219 in 1775, and 268 in 1776. They consist of three movements each, the first being generally the most worked-out, the second in the style of a romance (the adagio in 216 is of larger proportions), and the third in rondo-form. Previous to these came a concertone (190) for two solo violins, and orchestra, with obligato parts for cello and oboe, interesting from the artistic manner in which the various instruments are grouped. Quite different again is a 'Concertante Symphonie' for violin and viola (364) written in 1780. The solo-parts are treated simply, seldom moving independently when playing together, the orchestra is stronger, and the tutti more important, so that its character, as indicated by the title, is rather that of a symphony.

Nine Concertos remain to be considered:—the one composed in Paris for flute and harp is brilliant without being difficult for the solo instruments; the orchestra is discreetly handled, and the andantino accompanied by string quartet alone, graceful and tender. A concerto for bassoon (191) was composed in Salzburg; two for flute (313, 314) in Mannheim; four for French horn (412, 417, 447, 495) at Vienna, at the house and in the presence of Leutgeb. These last are evidently written hastily and carelessly, and are of no special significance; the autograph is full of absurd marginal notes. [See Leutgeb, p. 126.] The last concerto, composed for Stadler (622), brings out all the fine qualities of the clarinet; Jahn regards it as the basis of modern execution.

The Serenades, Nocturnes, and Divertimenti or Cassationen, mostly with solo instruments concertante, consist generally of from six to eight movements. One of the nocturnes (286) has four orchestras, of two violins, viola, bass, and two horns each, by means of which a triple echo is produced; a short serenade (239) has only strings and drums. Another serenade for wind instruments with cello and bass (361), remodelled in 1780 from a youthful quintet (46), is an important work. Of solid merit are three divertimenti for string-quintet and horns in F, B♭, and C (247, 287, 334); the second is well known. They have six movements each, and are essentially in quartet-style, in spite of the horns. Though written when he was not much above twenty, his mastery of this kind of composition is complete. Another divertimento for the same instruments 'Ein musikalischer Spass, oder auch Bauern-Symphonie' ('a musical joke'), composed in 1787, is irresistibly comic.

The Tafelmusik, Nachtmusik, etc., for wind-instruments, with from six to eight movements each, often present the most extraordinary combinations, such as 2 flutes, 5 trumpets, and 5 drums (187, 188), intended it is true for festal occasions, and 2 oboi, 2 bassoons, and 2 horns, in six divertimenti (213, 240, 252, 253, 270, 289) composed in 1775 and 1776, and graceful in spite of their concise form. Superior to these, and indeed to all mere fête music, are two serenades for wind in E♭ and C minor (375, 388), composed in Vienna in 1781 and 1782; the latter also arranged by Mozart as a quintet (406). Of dance-music for full orchestra the first published was four contredanses (267, Salzburg, 1776); in 1784 followed two quadrilles (463) each consisting of a minuet and an allegro; and in 1787 six German dances (509) and nine contredanses (510). The dances, written for six of the Redouten-Balls in Vienna, begin in Dec. 1788 with the German dances (567) and twelve minuets (568).

In the Symphonies we are able to follow the steps of his progress most closely. He first makes sure of his materials and technique, then the separate parts acquire more freedom and independence, melody and invention grow, the subjects gain in character, there is more substance in the whole, the details are better worked out; the wind-instruments, no longer used merely to strengthen the strings, take their own line and materially assist in the light and shade; in a word, the various component parts of the orchestra become one animated whole. Mozart had a great advantage over Haydn in having heard and studied the fine orchestras at Mannheim, Munich, and Paris, while Haydn was entirely restricted to his own. Mozart at first learned from Haydn, but after 1785 the reverse took place; Haydn's London symphonies also show how much his orchestration gained in fullness and brilliance from contact with the world. Mozart's first attempts in London and the Hague are in three movements; in those composed at Vienna in 1767 and 1768 the minuet is introduced. His later treatment of this movement is distinguished for refinement and dignified cheerfulness, in contrast to the jovial good-humour and banter which characterise Haydn's minuets. Of twenty symphonies composed in Salzburg, two are distinctly superior, that in G minor (183) being serious, almost melancholy, and in some sense the precursor of the later one in the same key, to which the other in A (201), bright, fresh, and sunny, forms a striking contrast. Next comes the lively Parisian or French symphony in D (297) with three movements; then three more in Salzburg, including one in G (318) in one movement, probably intended as an overture to a play.[81] With the exception of two in C and G (425, 444) composed in Linz, and plainly showing Haydn's influence, all the rest were written in Vienna. In the lively bustling symphonies in D (385), composed 1782, and C (504), composed 1786, for the Haffner family of Salzburg, the orchestration reminds us that they had just been preceded by 'Figaro.' The last three, in E♭, G minor, and C with the fugue (Jupiter) (543, 550, 551), were composed in 1778 [App. p.720 "1788"] between the 26th of June and the 10th of August, just over six weeks! Ambros[82] says of them, 'Considered as pure music, it is hardly worth while to ask whether the world possesses anything more perfect.' Jahn calls the first a triumph of beauty in sound, the second a work of art exhausting its topic, and the third in more than one respect the greatest and noblest of Mozart's symphonies.

Next come the Vocal Compositions. Lieder he only wrote casually; and unfortunately to very insignificant words. The greater number are in stanzas, but some few are continuously composed, such as 'An Chloe' (524), more in the style of an Italian canzonet; 'Abendempfindung' (523) fine both in form and expression; 'Unglückliche Liebe' and 'Trennung und Wiedervereinigung' (520, 519) almost passionate; and 'Zu meiner Zeit' (517) in a sportive tone. Of three Kinderlieder (529, 596, 598) the second, 'Komm' lieber Mai,' still survives; nor will the 'Wiegenlied' (350) be forgotten. Goethe's 'Veilchen' (476) is perfection, and shows what Mozart could have produced in this direction. Many spurious Lieder have been published under his name; there are 38 in Köchel's Catalogue (Anhang V. Nos. 246–283). The canons require sifting; even Byrd's 'Non nobis Domine' has been set to German words, and ascribed to him. Several are composed to words in the Viennese dialect, and the effect is quite neutralised by the modern drawing-room text which is often substituted. 'Difficile lectu mihi Mars' (559) is a comic canon, followed on the reverse side of the sheet by 'O du eselhafter [83]Peyerl' (560). The double canon on 'Lebet wohl, wir sehn uns wieder' and 'Heult noch gar wie alte Weiber,' written on taking leave of Doles at Leipzig, is well-known.

As we have seen already, he was frequently called upon to write airs for concerts, and for insertion in operas: many of these still bear repetition; for instance, the soprano-airs 'Mi sera dove son' (369), 'Non temer amato bene' with P.F. [App. p.720 "violin"] obligato (505), 'Un moto di gioja' (579), 'Bella mia fiamma' (528), one of his finest airs; the tenor air 'Per pietà' (420), and the bass airs 'Non so d'onde viene' (512), 'Mentre ti lascio' (513), and 'Per questa bella mano' with double-bass obligato (612).

To prepare the way for his Masses we must first consider his Church music of various kinds. First and foremost come the Litanies and Vespers, each a complete whole formed of several independent parts. The chief characteristic of the Litania de venerabili is solemnity, and of the Lauretanae or Marienlitanei, tenderness; and these Mozart has succeeded in preserving. [See Litany.] Of the latter, the first, in B♭, composed in 1771, already shows fluency in partwriting, and mastery of form and modulation; but the second, in D (195), composed in 1774, is far more important, the voices being treated contrapuntally with independent orchestra. We have also two litanies de venerabili in B♭ and E♭ (125, 143), composed in 1772 and 1776, the lapse of time between the two being clearly marked in the compositions themselves. The fine choruses in Nos. 3 and 5 of the latter, point to the Requiem, and like the fugue 'Pignus futurae' almost startle by their power, as does also the opening of the 'Panis vivus,' identical with the 'Tuba mirum ' in the Requiem. A still stronger sense of the dignity of church music is shown in two vespers in C (321, 339) composed in 1779 and 1780, the greater part of both thoroughly deserving a place among his most important works. The 'Confitebor' in the first, and 'Laudate pueri' and 'Laudate Dominum' in the latter, are real gems. The motet 'Misericordias Domine' (222), an exercise for Padré Martini, who gave him a brilliant testimonial for it in 1775, is in strict counterpoint throughout. In 1776 he composed a 'Venite populi' for double chorus; the parts are in imitation, strict or free, and the whole work teems with force and freshness. A list of innumerable small pieces of church music closes with the angelic motet 'Ave verum' (618), composed on the 18th of June, 1791, at Baden, near Vienna.

His first Masses (49, 65, 66), written while he was still a mere boy, show how thoroughly he had mastered the forms then in use for that style of music. We pass at once to the 6th [84]Mass, in F (192), the whole of which is in counterpoint, with only two violins, bass, and organ as accompaniment. This mass, in which the master-hand is clearly discernible, recalls the finest models of the old Neapolitan school, and justly ranks next to the Requiem; the Credo is based throughout on the subject so well-known in the finale to the Jupiter Symphony. The next, [85]in D (194), is also next in order of merit; it has perhaps more grace, but less earnestness and ideality. These two masses show what he was capable of in church music when unfettered; but in the [86]five which followed (220, 257–259, 262) he was forced to suit his patron's taste by aiming at display, and the result is less fortunate. Unhappily these being his best-known masses, are generally taken as his standard church works. Hardly more important are the next [87]three (275, 317, 337), although Mozart himself seems to have had a preference for the first, in B♭, since he chose it to conduct himself in 1791. The second, in C, composed in 1779, is called the 'Coronation-mass,' why, nobody knows; the third, also in C, was composed in 1780, and all three fulfil the conventional requirements, but seldom show a glimpse of the true Mozart, and then only in court uniform. We have already mentioned the last mass, in C minor (427), and the circumstances under which it was written. It is broadly designed, each section being treated as a separate movement, and the whole bears clear traces of his studies at the time (1783) with van Swieten. It is to be regretted that it was never finished; the Kyrie, Gloria, Sanctus and Benedictus alone are complete; the Credo is only half done. Very remarkable are the inequality of the different movements, the large dimensions of the choruses and fugues, and the bravura style of the solos. The Kyrie, Gloria, and Sanctus are excellent, the five-part Gratias, and the eight-part Qui tollis, of incomparable beauty.

We now come to the Requiem, that work of pain, which he was not permitted to finish. The following pieces are in his own handwriting: (1) Requiem and Kyrie, complete; (2) voice-parts, organ, and notes of the accompaniment of Nos. 2 to 9, as follows—'Dies irae, 68 bars; Tuba mirum, 62; Rex tremendae, 22; Recordare, 130; Confutatis, 40; Lacrymosa, 8; Domine, 78; Hostias, 54: the last eight bars, containing voice-parts, organ, and first-violin, go to the words 'Fac eas Domine de morte transire ad vitam,' followed by the direction 'Quam olim Da Capo,' that is to say, repeat the last 35 bars of the Domine. His widow, in her anxiety to have the score completed, and thus satisfy the person who had ordered it, first applied to Eybler, but after a few attempts he threw up the task, and she then entrusted it to Süssmayer, who not only had more courage, but was able to imitate Mozart's hand. He copied what Mozart had sketched in, filled up the gaps, wrote a Sanctus, Benedictus, and Agnus Dei, of his own, and, to give unity to the work, wound it up by repeating the fugue of the Kyrie to the words 'Cum sanctis tuis.' The score thus completed was handed to the messenger, who afterwards proved to have been Leutgeb, steward to Count Franz von Walsegg, of Ruppach. The Count, who had lost his wife Anna Edlen von Flammberg, on Feb. 14, 1791, and wished to perform a Requiem to her memory, copied out the score, inscribed it 'Requiem composto dal Conte Walsegg,' and absolutely had it performed as his own on Dec. 14, 1793. After wanderings almost as complicated as those of Ulysses, the various portions, in the original handwriting, were at length safely landed in the Hof bibliothek of Vienna. They consist of—(1) the autograph [88]Requiem and Kyrie, with the remainder complete in Süssmayer's hand, bought by the Hofbibliothek in 1839 for fifty ducats; (2) Nos. 2 to 9 just as they were left by Mozart; (3) twelve sheets presented by the Abbé Stadler, and (4) thirteen bequeathed by Eybler in 1846. The discovery of the autograph was the most conclusive reply to Gottfried Weber, who, as is well-known, disputed for years the authenticity of the Requiem. It has been analysed with becoming love and reverence by [89]Holmes, and by Jahn in his second volume. The latter concludes his observations thus—'It is the true and legitimate expression of his artistic nature at its highest point of finish his imperishable [90]monument.' An admirable summary of the whole story will be found in 'Mozart's Requiem, by W. Pole, F.R.S., Mus. Doc.'; London, Novello, 1879.

We have seen Mozart, when a mere boy, turning from childish play to serious occupations: a striking instance of this is his 'Grabmusik' or German cantata (42) written in 1767, which is anything but a boyish composition. About five years later he wrote, apparently in consequence of his visit to Padua, an oratorio by Metastasio called 'Betulia liberata' (118), corresponding to an opera seria of the period. The refrain in the last number but one, alternately sung by solo and chorus, is an ancient canto-fermo harmonised in four parts, in fact the same which is introduced in the Requiem to the words 'Te decet hymnus.' This is the only independent work of the kind, his other cantata 'Davidde penitente' (469) being made up from the Kyrie and Gloria of his last unfinished mass (427) set to Italian words, with two interpolated airs in concert style, which serve to render more prominent the inherent want of unity and congruity in the piece.

Of smaller cantatas, the two (471, 623) for the Freemason's Lodge are the only specimens. Both show much earnestness and depth of feeling; the first, for tenor solo and chorus, was composed in 1785; the latter, consisting of six numbers, written on Nov. 15, 1791, he conducted in person only two days before his last illness.

The long list of Mozart's dramatic compositions is headed by a sacred Singspiel, 'Die Schuldigkeit des ersten Gebotes,' in three parts, the first being composed by him in Salzburg during the winter of 1766–67, and the others added by Michael Haydn and Adlgasser, the court organist. Mozart's work occupies 208 pages, and is in the style of the Italian oratorios of the period, the forms being handled with perfect certainty. Mingled with the boy's unsteady writing there are occasional passages, mostly florid, in his father's hand, and the words to the recitatives are by a third person. The third tenor air is interesting, and Mozart himself evidently thought it good, as he introduced it with slight variations into his first opera. Immediately afterwards followed a Latin comedy 'Apollo et Hyacinthus,' which, in spite of the restraint of a foreign language, was so far a success that it was performed once. In Vienna in 1768 he composed a German operetta or pastorale in one act, 'Bastien et Bastienne,' and an opera buffa in three acts, 'La finta Semplice.' According to Jahn these rise above the ordinary level of contemporary comic operas in spite of their wretched librettos; and he remarks that in these early dramatic works Mozart fixes the two opposite poles which he touched in his artistic career. The chief number in the 'Finta Semplice' is the tenor air No. 7, previously mentioned. The three operas composed and performed in Milan, 'Mitridate,' 'Ascanio in Alba,' and 'Lucio Silla,' each mark a step in advance. They succeeded beyond the expectations of himself and his father; as did also 'La finta Giardiniera,' produced in Munich, Jan. 1775, when he wrote home, 'Everything has gone off so well, the noise was greater than I can describe to Mama.' The German opera 'Zaide,' in which he made use of the melodrama by Benda which he admired so much, has neither overture nor finale, and once set aside, its subject is too much like that of the 'Entführung'[91] to allow of its being again performed. To this period also belongs the heroic drama 'Thamos, König von Egypten,' consisting of three choruses and four instrumental pieces. The choruses, like those of Racine's 'Athalie,' were intended to add dignity to the action, and as choruses were at that time his 'most favourite composition,' he worked at them with great satisfaction. They are on a far grander scale, especially as regards the orchestral accompaniments, than those of his masses of the same period. Unfortunately the play had been given up in Vienna, and he much regretted not being able to use his music. The choruses were published with Latin words—'Splendente te,' 'Ne pulvis,' 'Deus tibi'—in which form they are well known in England.[92] With 'Idomeneo' he started on a fresh career, for which all his previous works had been merely preparatory. Oulibicheff declares that in it three styles may be easily distinguished, the first in which he is still fettered by the formalism of opera seria, the second in which he strives to imitate Gluck and French opera, and the third in which his own artist nature developes itself freely. Jahn says, 'In Idomeneo we have the genuine Italian opera seria brought to its utmost perfection by Mozart's highly cultivated individuality.' He put his best work into the parts of Ilia and Electra, which most struck his fancy. The choruses form a prominent feature, especially those which so much enhance the beauty of the second Finale. The handling of the orchestra is still admirable and worthy of study. In fact, this opera is the work of one who, though in the prime of manhood, has not lost the vigour and freshness of youth. Mozart was very anxious to have it performed in Vienna, when he intended to rearrange it more after the French model; but we have seen that he had to be content with a private performance by distinguished amateurs, for which he made several alterations, and composed a duet for two soprani (489), and a scena with rondo for soprano and violin solo (490).

In the 'Entführung' it is interesting to observe the alterations in Bretzner's libretto which Mozart's practical acquaintance with the stage has dictated, to the author's great disgust.[93] Indeed Osmin, one of the most original characters, is entirely his own creation at Fischer's suggestion. Jahn quotes Weber's [94]excellent remark on this opera—'Here I seem to see what the bright years of youth are to every man, a tune of blossom and exuberance which he can never hope to read again. As time goes on defects are eradicated, but with them many a charm is rooted up also. I venture to affirm that in the Entführung Mozart had reached the full maturity of his powers as an artist, and that his further progress after that was only in knowledge of the world. Of such operas as Figaro and Don Juan we might have had many more; but with all the good will in the world he could never have written another Entführung.'

In 'Figaro' we admire 'the spontaneous growth of the whole organism, the psychological truth and depth of sentiment, which make the characters so life-like, and resulting from these the striking harmony in the use of means and forms, and the mixture of dignity and grace, all founded on something higher than mere sensuous beauty.' In it 'we feel the throbbing of our own life-blood, recognise the language of our own hearts, and are captivated by the irresistible charm of unfading beauty—it is Art, genuine, immortal, making us free and happy.'

'Don Giovanni,' inferior perhaps to 'Figaro' as regards artistic treatment, has one manifest superiority; all the moods and situations are essentially musical. There is scarcely a feeling known to humanity which is not expressed in some one of the situations or characters, male or female. 'Così fan tutte,' taken either as a whole or in detail, is unquestionably a falling off from the two previous operas, and yet even here in detached pieces, especially in the chief rôles, many brilliant touches show the master-hand. Even this opera, therefore, we can in some respects consider an enlargement of his boundaries. 'Titus' (Clemenza di Tito) carries us back to the old opera seria. 'Così fan tutte' had recalled the old opera buffa, and Metastasio's libretto, written in 1734, required considerable modifications to suit the taste of the day; the most important being the introduction of ensembles wherever the situations allowed, and the curtailment of the original three acts to two. Nothing however availed to make the plot or characters interesting; throughout it was evident that the characteristics which had most attracted in Metastasio's day, were now only so many obstacles and hindrances to the composer. Moreover two of the singers, imported purposely from Italy, demanded special opportunities for display; Mozart was ill, had the 'Zauberflöte' in his head, and was deep in the 'Requiem'—a combination of unfavourable circumstances, sufficient of itself to preclude success. 'Making due allowance for these facts,' writes [95]Rochlitz, 'Mozart found himself compelled to take one of two courses, either to furnish a work of entire mediocrity, or one in which the principal movements should be very good, and the less interesting ones treated lightly and in accordance with popular taste; he wisely chose the latter alternative.'

We now come to the 'Zauberflöte,' which made an impression on the public such as no work of art had ever produced before. The libretto is so extraordinary that it is necessary to explain its origin. Schikaneder, at his little theatre in the Wieden suburb, had produced with great success a romantic comic opera after Wieland, 'Oberon, König der Elfen,' set by Paul Wranitzky. Encouraged by this success he had a second libretto constructed upon a fairytale, 'Lulu, oder die Zauberflöte,' from Wieland's 'Dschinnistan.' Just as it was ready he found that the same subject had been adapted by an actor named Perinet for the theatre in the Leopoldstadt of Vienna, under the title 'Kaspar der Fagottist, oder die Zauberzither,' with music by Wenzl Müller. He therefore remodelled his materials, introduced sympathetic allusions to the Freemasons, who were just then being hardly treated by the government, added the parts of Papageno and Papagena, and laid claim to the entire authorship. Such was the origin of this patchwork libretto, which, with all its contradictions, improbabilities, and even vulgarity, is undeniably adapted for the stage. Schikaneder knew how to gain the attention of an audience by accumulating and varying his stage effects. In proof of this we have not only the long run of the opera itself, but the testimony of [96]Goethe, who, while acknowledging that it was full of indefensible improbabilities, added, 'in spite of all, however, it must be acknowledged that the author had the most perfect knowledge of the art of contrast, and a wonderful knack of introducing stage effects.' It is well known that Goethe contemplated a continuation of the libretto, and entered into an agreement with Wranitzky on the subject in 1796.[97] Beethoven[98] declared it to be Mozart's greatest work—that in which he showed himself for the first time a truly German composer, and Schindler[99] adds that his reason for estimating it so highly was, that in it were to be found specimens of nearly every species of music from the lied to the chorale and fugue. Jahn (ii. 533) thus concludes his critique: 'The Zauberflöte has a special and most important position among Mozart's operas; the whole musical conception is pure German; and here for the first time German opera makes free and skilful use of all the elements of finished art. If in his Italian operas he assimilated the traditions of a long period of development, and in some sense put the finishing stroke to it, with the Zauberflöte Mozart treads on the threshold of the future, and unlocks for his countrymen the sacred treasure of natural art.'

We append a list of Mozart's operas, in the order in which they were first performed in London.[100]

La Clemenza di Tito,' 1808, March 27, King's Theatre; for Mrs. Billington's benefit, 'ably supported by Mr. Braham.' (1812, March 3, Catalani appeared as Vitellia, and Sig. Tramezzani as Sextus.)

'Così fan tutte,' 1811, May 9, King's Theatre; for the benefit of, Mme. Bertinotti Radicati.

'Il Flauto magico,' 1811, June 6; King's Theatre; Signor Naldi's benefit.

'Le Nozze dl Figaro,' 1812. June 18, King's Theatre; in aid of the funds of the Scottish Hospital. Among the performers were Catalani, Mrs. Dickons, Sig. Naldi, and Fischer. It was a decided success, further increased on its revival in 1817 (Feb. 1) under Ayrton. with a powerful cast.

'Don Giovanni,' 1817, April 12, King's Theatre. Extraordinary success.

'The Seraglio' (Entführung aus dem Serail'), 1827. Nov. 24, Covent Garden. Music and libretto mutilated. Performed in Italian at Her Majesty's June 30, 1866.

'Der Schauspieldirector,' 1861; music given at Crystal Palace summer concert, in Italian. Also in English (Sept 18, 1877) in the Crystal Palace Theatre as 'The Manager.'

Mozart's likeness has been preserved in every form and variety of portrait; only a few need be specified, (1) The earliest, an oil-painting to the knee, taken in Vienna in 1762, represents him in the Archduke Maximilian's gold-laced court suit, given him by the Empress. (2) In the small family picture, painted by Carmontelle in Paris in 1763, Mozart is sitting at the harpsichord, with his sister by his side, and his father standing behind him playing the violin. This drawing is now in the possession of Mrs. Baring of London. It was engraved by Delafosse, and was reproduced in coloured facsimile by Goupil's Photogravure process for Colnaghi & Co., London, in 1879. (3) In the Museum of Versailles is a small oil-painting of the same date, crowded with figures, representing Mozart sitting at the harpsichord in the Prince de Conti's saloon. As has been mentioned, his picture was taken in 1770 both in Verona and Rome. (4) In the first he is seated at the harpsichord in a crimson and gold court suit, with a diamond ring on the little finger of his right hand. Above the key-board is 'Joanni Celestini Veneti, mdlxxxiii,' and on the open music-book may be clearly deciphered what was apparently a favourite piece of the period. This picture, a half-length, is now in the possession of the heirs of Leopold von Sonnleithner, through whom it was discovered. The head is given in the frontispiece of Jahn's 1st vol. (5) In Pompeo Battoni's portrait, taken in Rome—now in the possession of John Ella, Esq., of London—the right hand holds a roll of music; the countenance is full of life, but highly idealised; an engraving by Adlard is given in the Record of the Musical Union for 1865; in Mr. Ella's 'Musical Sketches,' vol. i, and in the second edition of Nohl's 'Mozartbriefe.' (6) Della Croce painted a large picture of the family in 1780: Mozart and his sister are at the piano playing a duet; the father with his violin stands at the side, and the mother's portrait hangs on the wall. A large steel-engraving from it by Blasius Höfel is published at Salzburg. The half-lengths of Mozart and his father in Jahn's 1st vol. (p. 1 and 564) are from this picture. (7) A half-length profile carved in box-wood by Posch (1781), and now in the Mozarteum at Salzburg, was engraved by J. G. Mansfeld, and published by Artaria, with the inscription 'Dignum laude virum Musa vetat mori.' This, the universally accepted portrait, is out of print, and Kohl's engraved copy (1793) by no means comes up to the original. (8) During his short stay at Dresden in 1789, Dora Stock, the talented sister-in-law of Korner and friend of Schiller, drew him in her own refined and spirited style. The likeness is caught with the tenderness peculiar to a woman's hand; the outlines are correct, and the thoughtful expression of the eye rivets the beholder; the luxuriant silky hair, of which he was proud, is more truthfully rendered than in any of his portraits; and even the small stature is sufficiently indicated. Hofcapellmeister Eckert of Berlin (died Oct. 14, 1879), possessed the original, of which we have here attempted an engraving.

(9) Lange, Mozart's brother-in-law, drew him sitting at the piano absorbed in improvisation. The picture, complete only to the waist, was pronounced by his son Karl to be very like. It is now in the Mozarteum at Salzburg; and a lithograph from it by Ed. Lehmann was published at Copenhagen. (10) The last of his portraits is a life-size half-length painted at Mayence in 1790 by Tischbein, given in Jahn (ii. 456); there is more intellect and refinement in it than in that by Posch, which, however, is more like.

The Mozart literature is copious; but it has been ably summarised by Jahn in his 'W. A. Mozart' (1st ed. 4 vols, 1856–9; 2nd ed. 2 vols. 1862, Breitkopf & Härtel). In the preface he expressly describes his method of procedure, and the use he has made of all the printed matter in existence, assigning to each work its relative value and importance. Here we find Schlichtegroll, Niemetschek, Rochlitz, Arnold, Schlosser, G. N. von Nissen, Holmes, Oulibicheff, Gottfried Weber, André, Lorenz, Fuchs, Nohl, Marx, and others. Breitkopf & Härtel also published in 1878 a second edition of 'Mozart's Briefe.' Conjointly with Jahn's second edition should be used Dr. von Köchel's 'Chronologisch thematisches Verzeichniss sammtlicher Tonwerke W. A. Mozarts' (Breitkopf & Härtel, 1862). As will be evident to the reader, the present article is founded on the above two excellent works, the substance of which, in a compressed form, is now presented for the first time to the English public.

Comparatively few of Mozart's compositions were published in his lifetime; the greater part being circulated, with or without his acquiescence, in MS. His publishers in Vienna were Artaria, Toricella, and Hoffmeister. Breitkopf & Härtel published the first comprehensive edition in 1800, and the 12 vols. of 'Œuvres complets' were long and widely known. The same enterprising firm issued the first scores of his Symphonies, Requiem, and other works. Steiner of Vienna followed in 1820 with an engraved edition of his collected works in 30 parts. Numerous 'complete' collections of his P.F. works, quartets, quintets, etc., came out afterwards. Breitkopf & Härtel next issued his last great operas in score, revised from the autographs, preparatory as it were to their 'Ersten kritisch durchgesehenen Gesammtausgabe' of his works, begun in 1876 and now considerably advanced [App. p.720 "completed"]. Von Köchel with great liberality provided a special fund to start this work—the finest possible monument to Mozart, and at the same time an honourable memorial of his most worthy admirer.

Classified List of Mozart's works; from the Catalogue of Breitkopf & Härtel's 'Erste kritisch durchgesehene Gesammtausgabe.'


Series 1. 15 Masses.

Series 2. 4 Litanies, 2 Vespers, 1 Dixit and Magnificat.

Series 3. 4 Kyries, 1 Madrigal, 1 Veni Sancte, 1 Miserere, 1 Antiphon, 3 Regina cœli, 1 Te Deum, 2 Tantum ergo, 2 German Kirchenlieder, 9 Offertoires, 1 De profundis, 1 Air for soprano, 1 Motet for ditto, 1 Motet for 4 voices, 1 Graduale, 2 Hymns.

Series 4. 1 Passions-cantate (Grabmusik); 'La Betulia liberata,' oratorio; 'Davidde penitente,' cantata; 'Die Maurerfreude,' short cantata for tenor with final chorus; Eine kleine Freimaurer cantate,' for 2 tenors and bass.

Series 5. 'Die Schuldigkeit des ersten Gebothes,' sacred Singspiel in 3 parts (1st only by Mozart). 'Apollo et Hyaclnthus,' Latin comedy. 'Bastien et Bastienne,' German operetta, 1 act. 'La finta Semplice,' opera buffa, 3 acts. 'Mitridate, Rè di Ponto,' opera, 3 acts. 'Ascanio in Alba,' theatralische Serenade, 2 acts. 'Il Sogno di Scipione,' dramatische Serenade, 1 act. 'Lucio Silla,' dramma per musica, 3 acts. 'La finta Giardiniera,' opera buffa, 3 acts. 'Il Rè Pastore,' dramatic Cantata, 2 acts. 'Zaïde,' German opera, 2 acts. 'Thamos, König in Aegypten,' heroisches Drama; Choruses and Entr'actes. 'Idomeneo, Re di Creta, ossia. Ilia et Adamante.' opera seria in 3 acts. Ballet-music to 'Idomeneo.' 'Die Entführung aus dem Serail,' komisches Singspiel, 3 acts. Der Schauspieldirector,' comedy with music, 1 act. 'Le Nozze di Figaro.' opera buffa, 4 acts. 'Il Dissolute punito, ossia, Il Don Giovanni,' opera buffa, 2 acts. 'Così fan tutte' ('Weibertreue'), opera buffa, 2 acts. 'La Clemenza di Tito,' opera seria, 2 acts. 'Die Zauberflöte' (Il Flauto magico') German opera, 2 acts.

Series 6. 27 airs, 1 rondo for soprano with orchestra obligato; 1 ditto for alto; 8 ditto for tenor; 5 ditto for bass; 1 ariette for bass; 1 deutsches Kriegslied; 1 duet for 2 soprani; 1 comic duet for soprano and bass; 6 terzettos; 1 quartet.

Series 7. 34 Lieder for single voice with P.F. accompaniment; 1 Lied with chorus and organ; 1 three-part chorus with organ; comic terzetto with P.F.; 20 canons for 2 or more voices.


Orchestral Works.

Series 8. 41 Symphonies.

Series 9. 28 Divertimenti, Serenades, and Cassationen for orchestra (12 Divertimenti for wind instr.); 3 Divertimenti for 2 violins, viola, 2 horns, and bass.

Series 10. 9 Nos. Marches for orchestra; 2 symphonic movements; 'Maurerische Trauermuslk' for orch.; 'Ein musikalischer Spass' for 2 violins, viola, bass, and 2 horns; 1 Sonata for bassoon and cello; short Adagio for 2 corni di bassetto and bassoon; Adagio for 2 clarinets and 3 corni di bassetto; Adagio for harmonica; Adagio and Allegretto for harmonica, flute, oboe, viola, and cello; Adagio and Allegretto for a musical clock; Fantasia for ditto; Andante for a small barrel-organ.

Series 11. 25 Nos. various kinds of dance-music for orchestra.

Series 12. Concertos, and smaller pieces with orch. 6 Concertos for violin; 3 short pieces for ditto; 1 Concertone for 2 solo violins; 1 Symphonie concertante for violin and viola; 1 Concerto for bassoon; 1 ditto for flute and harp; 2 ditto for flute; 1 Andante for ditto; 4 Concertos for horn; 1 ditto for clarinet.


Series 13. 7 Quintets for 2 violins, 2 violas, and cello; 1 ditto for 1 violin, 2 violas, horn, and cello (or 2 cellos instead of horn); 1 ditto for clarinet, 2 violins, viola, and cello.

Series 14. 26 Quartets for 2 violins, viola, and cello; 1 short Nachtmusik for 2 violins, viola, cello, and double-bass; Adagio and Fugue for 2 violins, viola, and cello; 1 Quartet for oboe, violin, viola, and cello.

Series 15. 2 Duets for violin and viola; 1 Duet for 2 violins; 1 Divertimento for violin, viola, and cello.

P.F. Music

Series 16. 25 Concertos for P.F. and orchestra; 1 ditto for 2 P.Fs.; 1 ditto for 3 P.Fs.; 1 Concert-rondo for 1 P.F.

Series 17. 1 Quintet for P.F., oboe, clarinet, horn, and bassoon; 2 Quartets for P.F., violin, viola, and cello; 7 Trios for P.F., violin, and cello; 1 ditto for P.F., clarinet, and viola.

Series 18. 42 Sonatas for P.F. and violin; Allegro for ditto; 12 variations for ditto; 6 variations for ditto.

Series 19. 5 P.F. Sonatas for 4 hands; Andante with 5 variations for ditto; Fugue for 2 P.Fs.; Sonata for ditto.

Series 20. 17 Sonatas for P.F.; Fantasia and Fugue; 3 Fantasias for ditto.

Series 21. 15 Collections of variations for P.F.

Series 22. 18 short pieces for P.F. (Minuets, 3 Rondos, Suite, Fugue, 2 Allegros; Allegro and Andante; Andantino; Adagio; short Gigue; 35 Cadenzas for P.F. concertos).

Series 23. 17 Sonatas for organ with accompaniment (chiefly 2 violins and bass).

Scries 24. Supplement. Contains all the unfinished and doubtful works, additional accompaniments, and transcriptions. Among others: The 'Requiem'; 'L'Oca del Cairo,' opera buffa; 'Lo Sposo deluso,' opera buffa; Handel's 'Acis and Galatea,' 'Messiah,' 'Alexander's Feast,' and 'Ode on St. Cecilia's Day' additional accompaniments; 5 Fugues from J. S. Bach's 'Wohltemperirte Clavier' (arranged for 2 violins, viola, and bass); 3 Sonatas of Johann Bach's (arranged as a concerto for P. F., 2 violins, and bass); etc.

[ C. F. P. ]

App. p.720:

The notice of Mozart can scarcely be considered complete without some mention of works, undoubtedly spurious, which have been attributed to him, and of those which the best authorities consider at least doubtful, especially as some important works are included in these categories. Of the former class Köchel's Catalogue enumerates 63, of the latter 47. The most important are various masses, published, together with Mozart's genuine ones, by Novello in his arrangement for organ and voices. Those in E♭ (Novello's nos. 13 and 16), and in C (his no. 17), Köchel regards as of doubtful authorship (Appendix nos. 185, 186). Novello's no. 7 in B♭, of which the score and parts were published by C. F. Peters at Leipzig as by Mozart, is believed by a writer in the 'Allgemeine musikalische Zeitung' (xiv. p. 829) to be spurious, which opinion is shared by O. Jahn (ed. 1, i. 673), who states that there were no clarinets in the Salzburg orchestra when Mozart was there; to which Köchel adds that we know enough of Mozart's subsequent life at Mannheim, Munich, and Vienna before 1784, from his own letters, to be sure that he then wrote no Mass except that in C minor. To which must be added that Mozart's widow stated that this Mass was composed by F. X. Süssmayer. Two short Masses (Novello's nos. 8 and 9) in C and G were published by M. Falter at Munich as Mozart's, but are said to be by Gleissner of Munich. A short Requiem in D minor was published by Simrock at Bonn (Novello's no. 18) as Mozart's; but Köchel says it is certain that Mozart never wrote any Requiem except his celebrated last composition.

The most important of these spurious Masses is that which was published in score by N. Simrock at Bonn in 1821, and by Novello for organ and voices as no. 12. This Mass commences in G, but is chiefly in C and its related keys, and ends in C. The reviewer in the 'Allgemeine musikalische Zeitung' xxiii. p. 648, for Oct. 1821 declares that he had possessed it for thirty years, and argues for its genuineness (notwithstanding that the style is rather showy, more calculated to please the Archbishop of Salzburg than to satisfy Mozart himself). But in July 1826 Ritter Ign. von Seyfried opened a controversy on the subject in the 'Cæcilia ' (vol. v. Heft 17, p. 77) with 'Scruples concerning the Mass in G published by Simrock in the name of Mozart,' in which he enumerated especially weaknesses in part-writing and tonality, and other faults, and pronounced it spurious. In Heft 22 of the same journal the publisher of the Mass declared that he had received it from Carl Zulehner, who would doubtless explain how he had come into possession of the MS., the handwriting of which was similar to Mozart's, but probably not his. But Zulehner made no answer to the challenge. Jahn (i. 672) agrees with Seyfried, and adds that 'the treatment of the instruments, especially the bassoons, is quite different from Mozart's manner in his Salzburg masses.' And Köchel adds, 'This Mass is declared by all connoisseurs to be decidedly spurious.' To this another testimony can now be added. The violinist Leopold Jansa recognised it as a Mass in which he used to sing as a boy in a musical school in his native country of Bohemia, where it was known as 'Müller's Mass.' This would take us back to about 1812, long before its first publication by Simrock in 1821. If Müller was really the composer's name, it ought to be possible to discover him. As regards his age, he might be August Eberhardt Müller. And he is named in Köchel's Catalogue (App. no. 286) on the authority of a Catalogue of Breitkopf's, as the real composer of some variations published as Mozart's own; besides which, two songs, also published as Mozart's, are attributed to 'Müller' by Köchel (nos. 248, 249) on the authority of a writer in the 'Allgemeine musikalische Zeitung' (i. 745). But as a musician of North Germany he was perhaps hardly likely to be known in manuscript copies in Bohemia. Wenzel Müller, music composer at the various theatres in Vienna from 1786 is more likely in the latter respect, but his serious music is extremely unimportant. If the name Müller be discarded, it might be asked whether Zulehner may not have palmed off a work of his own on Simrock as Mozart's. Zulehner was well acquainted with Mozart, and worked for Simrock, who published two choruses from 'Thamos,' arranged for four voices with pianoforte accompaniment by Zulehner, which are quite different from those in Mozart's 'Thamos' to the same words, and are therefore placed by Köchel in the list of spurious works (no. 243). This seems a parallel case to that of the Mass, of which Simrock published both the score and an arrangement for four voices and pianoforte by Zulehner. The same publisher published also an arrangement for Mozart's (genuine) symphonies as trios for PF., violin and violoncello, by Zulehner. Moreover Zulehner was the possessor of a Mass in C bearing Mozart's name, and called the 'Coronation Mass.' This was a mere pasticcio of pieces taken from 'Così fan tutte,' transposed, altered, and joined together by intervening chords. Zulehner is said to have maintained that the mass was the original work, and that Mozart 'plundered' his own work (as Jahn says) to produce the opera. This is perhaps the most damaging fact yet ascertained to Zulehner's reputation. Jahn says: 'That the mass is pieced together from the opera by some church-musician is proved by the existence of passages not belonging to the opera, and by the mode in which the borrowed treasure is employed; and no musician to whom I have shown the mass doubted this' (Jahn, iv. Beilage 5). Two other remarks may be made. It rather seems as if the mass were put together from two distinct sources. The Kyrie is in G, the Gloria is in C; the Mass ends in C, and the middle movements are in keys related to C, but not for the most part to G: F, A minor, G, and C minor. It seems, therefore, as if we had a mass in C minus the Kyrie, and as if a Kyrie from some other source had been prefixed to complete it. It is finally interesting to note that the only really strong movement in the Mass, the great fugue 'Cum sancto spiritu,' which is well worthy of Mozart, is expressly stated by Simrock in his answer to Seyfried to have been performed, long before the publication of this Mass, in the chapel of the Elector of Cologne in a Mass of Mozart's; and he gives no such testimony of any other part of this Mass. It may therefore be possible to cling to the belief that this single movement is genuine.

The other spurious works are less important. Most have never been published, or published only once or twice by obscure publishers in Germany. There are, however, 39 spurious songs in vogue, published chiefly by Rellstab at Berlin and André at Offenbach, of some of which the true composers are known. One is the beautiful bass air 'Io ti lascio, cara, addio' (published in Suppl. to 'Allg. musik. Zeitung,' i.), which is by G. von Jacquin (Köchel, App. nos. 245–283). Among the doubtful pieces are reckoned three Divertimenti for wind instruments, a sonata in C minor, and a romance for pianoforte in A♭ (ib. 226–228, 204, 205).

[ R. M. ]

  1. He was christened in full Joannes Chrysostomus Wolfgangus Theophilus: instead of Theophilus his father wrote Gottlieb—in Latin Amadeus. In his earlier letters Mozart added his confirmation-name Sigismundus. On his first works, and those engraved in Paris in 1764. he signs himself J. G. Wolfgang, afterwards Wolfgang Amade; in private life he was always Wolfgang.
  2. Now in the Mozarteum at Salzburg.
  3. Letter to Mozart's sister, dated Salzburg 1792; given entire by Jahn i. 19. The references throughout are to Jahn's 2nd edition.
  4. Neue Beiträge für Salzburgische Geschicht, etc. An extract from the MS. 'Chronik des Gesanges und der Musik im Salzburgischen,' by A. J. Hammerle (Salzburg 1877).
  5. Here the father announced in the programme, Aug. 30, that 'he would play with the keyboard covered,' thus turning the Emperor's joke to account. Here also Goethe heard him—'I was about 14, and I still distinctly remember the little man with his frizzled wig, and sword.' Eckennann's 'Gespräche mit Goethe,' ii. 180.
  6. The numbers throughout refer to Köchel's Mozart-Catalogue.
  7. For the details of Mozart's stay, and the condition of music at the time, see Pohl's 'Mozart in London' (Vienna 1887).
  8. Philosophical Transactions, vol. ix, for the year 1770, p. 54.
  9. Probably the Lying-in-Hospital (Surrey), the fouadation-stone of which was laid in 1785.
  10. 'God is our Refuge and Strength.' For facsimile of the autograph see Pohl's 'Mozart in London.'
  11. 'Voltaire Musicien,' by Edmond van der Straeten.
  12. The above interesting fact throws light on the passage on Voltaire's death in Mozart's Letters (Paris, July 3, 1778).
  13. Hammerle quotes the notice in the University minutes:—'1767, 12 Martii, Jovis: Vacatio (Post prandium). Hora media 7 in Aula Oratorium fuit decantatum a D. Wolfgango Mozart adulescentulo 10 annorum in modulos musicos egregie redactum.'
  14. Translation of a parody on Rousseau's 'Devin du Village.'
  15. A medical man, not the celebrated magnetiser.
  16. Kelly's 'Reminiscences,' i. 228.
  17. An Antiphon was given him to set in 4 parts (86).
  18. Jahn gives—Minutes. ii. 613; Letter from the father, i 126; Testcomposition, ii. Notenbeilage viii, p. 20; Diploma ii. 614.
  19. Jahn ii. Notenbeilage v.
  20. Ibid. vi.
  21. Jahn ii. 616.
  22. This interesting document has lately been found in the archiepiscopal archives by Pirckmeyer the custodian, and published with other matter under the title of 'Zur Lebensgeschlchte Mozarts.' Salzburg 1876: also copied in the Preface to Noll's Mozartbriefe, 2nd ed., 1877.
  23. It was here that Mozart first learnt the value of the clarinet as an orchestral instrument.
  24. Discovered and printed a few years ago.
  25. Jahn gives both letters, ii. 691–2, with a facsimile of that to Bullinger in an appendix to vol. i.
  26. Tenducci appears to have taken this composition with him to London. Burney (see Barrington's 'Miscellanies,' 289) speaks of it as a masterpiece of invention and technique (Pohl's 'Mozart in London, 121).
  27. He took the libretto home with him to compose 'gratuitously.' 'You see,' he writes to his father, 'how strong my liking for this kind of composition is.' Jahn (i. 514) has not been able to discover whether he ever composed it, or whether the poem was lost.
  28. She was engaged as prima donna in Vienna in 1780, and married Joseph Lange, the court actor. She acknowledged atterwards that as a young girl she had not appreciated Mozart as highly as she ought to have done, but she became a great admirer of his music, and a true friend. She did not live happily with her husband, but their intercourse with Mozart was quite unconstrained. He composed for her in Vienna five more airs, and they gave mutual assistance at each others' concerts. Kelly ('Reminiscences,' i. 253) admired her at a singer of the first rank. Her voice was exceptionally high.
  29. His father succeeded in getting him appointed successor to Adlgasser, with a salary of 400 florins (about 40l.).
  30. Generally quoted as overture composed for Bianchi's 'Villanella rapita.'
  31. The date in Mozart's letter—the 14th, in Jahn i. 637, is a misprint. In Nohl's 'Mozartbriefen,' both editions. Dec. 26 should be substituted for 22, as may be seen from the letter itself. It is well known that the theme of the sonata played by Clementi (Œuvres vi. 1) on this occasion was adopted by Mozart in the overture to the 'Zauberflöte.'
  32. July 12, in Jahn i. 648, is wrong. The Emperor is reported to have said, 'Too fine for our ears, lieber Mozart, and much too many notes,' meaning that the accompaniments overpowered the voices. Mozart answered frankly, 'Exactly as many notes as are necessary, your Majesty.
  33. A very old building, with rooms in which balls and concerts were held. A flour-warehouse in the basement gave its name to the house. It is now the Hotel Munsch.
  34. See Augarten, vol. i. p. 104a.
  35. In the list of his subscribers for 1784 we find, besides his regular patrons. Countess Thun, Baroness Waldstadten, Count Zichy, van Swieten, etc., the Duke of Wirtemberg, Princes Lichtenstein, Auersperg, Kaunitz, Lichnowsky, Lobkowitz, Paar, Palm, and Schwarzenberg; the distinguished families of Bathyany, Dietrichstein, Erdödy, Esterhazy, Harrach, Herberstein, Keglewicz, Nostiz, Palfy. Schaffgotsch, Stahrenberg, and Waldstein; the Russian, Spanish, Sardinian, Dutch, and Danish ambassadors; the eminent financiers Fries, Henickstein, Arenfeld, Blenenfeld, Ployer, and Wetzlar; government officials of position, and scientific men, such as Isdenczy, Bedekovich, Nevery, Braun, Greiner, Keess, Puffendorf, Born, Martini, Sonnenfels, etc.
  36. It was completed by André, with a Rondeau, quartetto from 'Lo Sposo deluso,' finale from 'La Villanella rapita,' by Mozart; was adapted to new words by Victor Wilder, and performed in Paris, Théâtre des fantatstes-Parisiennes, June 6, 1867; at Vienna in the Carl Theatre. 1868; at Drury Lane, May 12. 1870.
  37. Dedicated to Count Thun. André imagines No. 444 to have been the one composed for this occasion, from Mozart having copied some of the parts.
  38. Including Nancy Storace, her brother Stephen, and the tenor Kelly, all English.
  39. This Singspiel was given several times with a new libretto, and several interpolations. A recent attempt by Schneider (1861) introduced both Mozart and Schikaneder, and was particularly unfortunate.
  40. He composed for it a new duet for two soprani (489), and a rondo for soprano with violin solo (490).
  41. Kelly relates ('Reminiscences,' i. 262), 'When the singers were one day rehearsing, the Emperor said, "I dare say you are all pleased that I have desired there shall be no more encores." To which they all bowed assent, but Kelly said boldly, "Do not believe them, Sire, they all like to be encored, at least I am sure I always do."
  42. 'Reminiscences,' i. 259.
  43. To his friend Gottfried von Jacquin, Jan. 15, 1787.
  44. The Villa is now called 'Bertramka.' A bust of Mozart, by Seldan, was placed on a slight eminence in the grounds, and solemnly unveiled on June 3, 1876, by the then possessor, Herr Lambert Popelka, who died June 9, 1879. A hitherto unpublished letter of Mozart's, dated Prague. Oct. 15, 1787, was printed at the same time.
  45. His father did not live to see this partial realisation of his hopes; he had died, as already stated, on May 28.
  46. Viz. the dances for the Imperial Redouten-balls, which it was his duty to supply.
  47. According to Da Ponte the Emperor said, 'The opera is divine, finer perhaps than Figaro, but it is not the meat for my Viennese.' When the saying was reported to Mozart he replied, 'We must give them time to chew it.'
  48. 'Diskant.' Mozart's letter, March 12, 1783.
  49. Also performed at Mozart's benefit-concert in the Jahn'sched Concertsaal in the same month.
  50. Hässler played a concerto of Mozart's at his concert in London. May 30, 1792. See Pohl's 'Haydn in London,' 200.
  51. Mozart composed a new air (577) for Mlle. Ferrarese del Bene.
  52. He made preliminary offers of a similar kind to Mozart.
  53. Now on the Capudnerberg, in Salzburg, a gift from the present Prince Starhemberg.
  54. Proved after his death to have been Count Walsegg, an amateur anxious to be thought a great composer, and who really had the Requiem performed under his own name. The messenger was his steward Leutgob.
  55. Schenk, in his autobiography, tells how he had a place in the orchestra at the first performance, and was so enchanted with the overture that he crept up to the conductor's chair, seized Mozart's hand and kissed it. Mozart, putting out his right hand, looked kindly at him, and stroked his cheek.
  56. A note (Jahn ii. 639) to some unknown person (? Da Ponte) strikingly confirms this.
  57. It is notorious that Salieri was very much suspected, but he indignantly repudiated the accusation. His own words (reported by Niemetschek, p. 81) prove that he was not displeased at Mozart's death:—'It is indeed a pity to lose so great a genius, but his death is a good thing for us. If he had lived longer not a soul would have given us a bit of bread for our compositions.' The answer given to the accusation by Salieri's friend, Capellmeister Schwanenberg, was, to say the least of it, remarkable:—'Pazzi! non ha fatto niente per meritar un tal onore!' (Goose! what has he done to deserve so great an honour!)
  58. Raubensteingasse, on the site of the present Galvani'schen Gebäude, in the vestibule of which the builder has placed a bust of Mozart.
  59. Schikaneder was too much overcome to be present. Walking up and down he exclaimed, 'his spirit pursues me everywhere; I have him continually before my eyes.'
  60. By Van Swieten's orders (himself well off) the strictest economy was observed in the funeral arrangements. The site of the actual grave was soon forgotten; but the city of Vienna erected on the probable spot a handsome monument by Hans Gasser, solemnly unveiled on the anniversary of Mozart's death, Dec. 5, 1853.
  61. The autograph is inscribed 'composta per la Sgra. Storace dal suo servo ed amico W. A. Mozart, 26 di Dec. 1786.'
  62. Facsimile in Jahn. vol. i, Appendix.
  63. 'Reminiscences,' i. 226.
  64. Ambros Rieder, organist and choirmaster at Perchtolsdorf, near Vienna, died 1851.
  65. His first concert in London was at the Hanover Square Rooms, May 5, 1792, when be played a concerto of Mozart's. Pohl's 'Haydn in London,' p. 43.
  66. 'Reminiscences,' i. 228.
  67. Ibid. i. 227.
  68. It has been published more than once as 'Kurzgefasste Generalbassschule von W. A. Mozart' (Vienna, Stelner) and 'Fundament des Generalbasses' (Berlin, Siegmeyer, 1822).
  69. Holmes, p. 316. This book is now in the possession of Sir John Goss.
  70. 'Reminiscences,' i. 238.
  71. The 'honest' man afterwards wrote a very malicious critique on Mozart's quartets.
  72. Kelly's 'Reminiscences,' i. 225.
  73. Selbstbiographie, p. 171.
  74. Compare Schlichtegroll's 'Nekrolog'; Arnold's language is even worse (Mozart's Geist. p. 65).
  75. His association with Schikaneder gave some colour to the reports. Hummel protested vehemently against such accusations.
  76. In one of these orderly fits he began (1784) a thematic register of all his compositions as they were completed, and continued the practice up to a short time before his death. This invaluable document was first published by André in 1828.
  77. A reference to the doctrine of the Freemasons.
  78. Jahn.
  79. Cramer's 'Magazin der Musik,' ii. 1275.
  80. Köchel gives Salzburg, but the family were then in Vienna after their return from Olmütz and Brünn. The quintet was metamorphosed by Mozart Into a serenade (361) in 1780. The fine adagio No. 3 was arranged in Vienna by an unknown hand as an offertorium, to the words 'Quis te comprehendat,' for 4 voices, organ and violin solo, 2 violins, viola, 2 horns, and bass. Parts published with others by Diabelli, in E♭.
  81. Not, as often stated, Bianchi's 'Villanella rapita,' first produced in 1786.
  82. 'Grenzen der Musik und Poesie,' p. 123.
  83. Referring to the defective utterance of Peyerl, the tenor.
  84. Mozart's Masses, arranged by V. Novello. No. 3.
  85. Novello, No. 6.
  86. The second, in B♭ (257; Novello 2), is called the 'Credo Mass,' from the peculiar treatment of the Credo. It is printed in a very mutilated form; even the characteristic subject to the Credo itself being left out whenever possible. The much-used subject from the Jupiter Symphony is introduced again in the Sanctus.
  87. Novello 10, 1, 14.
  88. The heading 'Requiem di me, W. A, Mozart mp 792' is touching, as showing how he looked forward to its completion.
  89. A Critical Essay, etc.
  90. This, Mozart's last work, was the first of his vocal works (including his operas) to be performed in England. John Ashley introduced it at Covent Garden Theatre on the first oratorio evening during Lent, Feb. 20, 1801. The piece which preceded it was a Dead March with corno di bassetto, double bassoons, and two pair of double drums; after it came a P.F. concerto played by John Field, and Handel's 'L'Allegro ed 11 Fensleroso.' Books of the words, with a translation of the Bequlem and a biographical sketch of Mozart, were sold at 6d. each. Of the Requiem Parke says, 'it is a composition of infinite science and dulness, from the effects of which the audience was happily relieved by Incledon's song in L'Allegro, "Haste thee Nymph."' The Morning Fost tald, 'The talents which have celebrated the name of Mozart can scarcely be justly appreciated by such a composition as the Requiem'; and wound up with, 'It is upon the whole a composition which could only have come from the hand of a master. From the performers it received ample Justice.' According to the Porcupine 'the performance was far from being well-managed.' It was repeated on March 4. (Pohl. 'Mozart in London,' p. 144.)
  91. André added an overture and finale, and a new libretto was written by Gollmick. A performance in Frankfort, Jan. 27, 1866, is only of historical interest. Mozart's unfinished 'L'Oca del Cairo' (1783), completed from others of his works, was performed in Paris (Théâtre des Fantaisles-Parisiennes. June 6, 1887) under the title 'L'oie du Caire'; in Vienna in March, 1868, at the Carltheater, and at Drury Lane, May 12, 1870.
  92. Von Vincke wrote a connecting poem for concert use. They were afterwards translated into German.
  93. Berliner Litt. und Theater-Zeitung, 1783, ii. 398.
  94. C. M. von Weber, Ein Lebensbild, iii. 191.
  95. Allg. Mus. Zeitung. i. 154.
  96. Eckermann's 'Gespräche mit Goethe,' iii. 17.
  97. Orpheus, Mus. Taschenbuch, 1841, p. 252.
  98. Seyfried, Beethoven's Studien, Anhang, p. 31.
  99. Biographie, ii. 164, 322.
  100. Pohl, 'Mozart in London.' pp. 145–151.