MOZART.
MOZART.
FIRST VISIT TO PARIS.
One morning, in the month of November, 1763, a middle aged man, with two children, was seen standing at the door of a small hotel in the Rue St. Honoré. When the servant in livery opened the door in answer to his knock, he inquired if M. Grimm lived there, and presented a letter to be given to him. By his dress, he was evidently a stranger, and as his accent proved, a German. Some minutes passed, while the valet went to deliver the letter; he then returned, and ushered the visitors into his master’s presence.
M. Grimm, the celebrated critic, was reclining in a large arm-chair, close to the fire-place, in a splendid apartment, occupied in reading a new tragedy. He held in his hands the letter he had just received, and glanced over its contents, while the two younger visitors, although uninvited, drew near the fire and spread out their little hands to feel the warmth.
The letter was from one Frederic Boëmer, a fellow-student of M. Grimm at the University of Leipzig, and Secretary to the Prince Archbishop of Saltzburg; less favored however by the gifts of fortune than M. Grimm, who, having come to Paris as the preceptor of the Count von Schomberg’s sons, had risen to be the oracle of literature and art. The letter was filled with reminiscences of the past life of the two friends; and only at the close did the writer remember the purpose of his missive. This was to introduce M. Mozart, the sub-director of the chapel of the Archbishop, who found the small salary he received insufficient for the support of his family, and had determined to travel with his children, and endeavor to earn a maintenance by the exhibition of their astonishing musical talents. They were recommended to the attentions of M. Grimm, whose good word could not fail to excite interest in their behalf.
“You are M. Mozart, of Saltzburg, and these are your children?” asked the critic of the stranger, when he had finished reading the letter.
“Yes, Monsieur.”
“And you are come to Paris to exhibit these young artists? I fear I cannot promise you the success I could wish, and for which you hope. The French, with all their pretensions to taste in music, commonly judge of it as deaf people would do. They are in love with the screaming of their actors, and fancy the more noise the finer harmony. Your only chance of success here is to pique the public curiosity by proving the remarkably precocious genius of your children; moreover, the people of the court give the tone to the rest of society, and it will be necessary to secure their favor. I may do something for you with those I can influence; I will try what I can do. Let me see you again in a few days.”
With this scanty encouragement, the father of Wolfgang Mozart was fain to quit the magnificent dwelling of the correspondent of princes.