On October 30 Mozart and his mother arrived at Mannheim. The long stay of between four and five months which they made in this place had in more than one respect an important influence on Mozart's future. The orchestra at Mannheim was considered the finest in Europe, and the young composer writes of it to his father in enthusiastic terms. He was especially struck by the clarinets, which he here for the first time met with in the orchestra. He writes: "Ah, if we only had clarinets! You cannot believe what a splendid effect a symphony makes with flutes, oboes, and clarinets." The Mannheim orchestra included among its members many of the finest performers on their respective instruments then living, and contemporary testimony was to the effect that they were unsurpassed in execution and finish. The first kapellmeister was Christian Cannabich, an excellent violinist, and a very good friend to Mozart; the second was the Abbé Vogler, a clever but eccentric man, of whom Mozart writes: "He is a fool, who fancies that there can exist nothing better or more perfect than himself. He is hated by the whole orchestra. His book will better teach arithmetic than composition." In another letter he gives a criticism of Vogler's music which is so characteristic as to deserve quotation:
"Yesterday was again a gala day. I attended the service, at which was produced a bran new Mass by Vogler, which had been rehearsed only the day before yesterday in the afternoon. I stayed, however, no longer than the end of the 'Kyrie.' Such music I never before heard in my life, for not only is the harmony often wrong, but he goes into keys as if he would pull them in by the hair of the head, not artistically, but plump, and without preparation. Of the treatment of the ideas I will not try to speak; I will only say that it is quite impossible that any Mass by Vogler can satisfy a composer worthy of the name. For though one should discover an idea that is not bad, that idea does not long remain in a negative condition, but soon becomes—beautiful? Heaven save the mark! it becomes bad—extremely bad, and this in two or three different ways. The thought has scarcely had time to appear before something else comes and destroys it, or it does not close so naturally as to remain good, or it is not brought in in the right place, or it is spoiled by the injudicious employment of the accompanying instruments. Such is Vogler's composition."
It is hardly surprising that there should be little sympathy or cordiality between Vogler and Mozart, but there is no ground for the suspicion entertained by Leopold Mozart that the Abbé was plotting against his son.
Mozart was very desirous of obtaining an appointment at Mannheim under the Elector, and this was one of the causes of his long stay there. But, as usual, nothing came of it. The Elector was very complimentary to the composer, but after a delay of nearly two months finally said that he could do nothing. It was therefore the father's wish that they should continue the journey towards Paris. Mozart, however, was in no hurry to leave Mannheim; the society of the members of the orchestra, some of whom—among them Wendling, the flutist, and Ramm, the oboist—were close personal friends, was very congenial. But there was another and more powerful reason: he had for the first time fallen seriously in love. The object of his affection was a young singer, Aloysia Weber, the second daughter of Fridolin von Weber, at that time copyist and prompter in the Mannheim theatre. She was very beautiful, had a fine voice, and sang with great taste and expression. For her Mozart wrote one of the finest of his concert arias, Non so donde viene; he also gave her lessons. His affection would seem to have been returned, but his father was not unnaturally opposed to the youth's fettering himself by such a union. Wolfgang's idea was to make a professional tour in company with the Webers, and to try to procure engagements in Italy for the young lady as a prima donna, and for himself as a composer, Leopold, however, was experienced enough to see clearly that such a scheme was impracticable, and that a young girl who had never appeared on the stage would have no chance of success in an Italian theatre, however well she might sing. He therefore, in order to free his son from the entanglement, wrote a long letter to him, putting the case very plainly and sensibly, and urging him at once to go to Paris to try to make a position there. Like a dutiful son, as he always showed himself, Wolfgang obeyed, and left Mannheim with a heavy heart on March 14, 1778, arriving nine days later at Paris.
The time of his visit was not favourable to his hopes. Musicians in the French capital were busy with the great struggle for supremacy in opera between Gluck and Piccinni, which was then at its height. Besides this, the frivolous Parisian public, who had been so attracted by the infant prodigy, cared little for the mature artist. Mozart obtained an introduction to Le Gros, the director of the Concert Spirituel, who gave him a commission to write some movements of a Miserere, of which, however, only two choruses were performed. Besides this, Mozart composed for the same concerts a Sinfonie Concertante for four wind instruments, with orchestra. But once more the intrigues of enemies pursued him. Two days before the concert was to be given the parts of the new work had not been copied, and when Mozart went to Le Gros to inquire the reason, the latter merely said that he had forgotten it. Mozart suspected, and probably correctly, that Cambini, an Italian composer whom he had unintentionally offended, was at the bottom of it.
For the Duc de Guines, to whom he obtained an introduction through his old friend Grimm, Mozart wrote a double concerto for the unusual combination of flute and harp, to be played by the Duke and his daughter. The two instruments were those which Mozart detested; yet the concerto, though not a great work, is most effectively written for both instruments, and is very pleasing music. Besides this, he gave lessons in composition to the Duke's daughter, who, though a clever performer, seems to have had but little idea of writing. Mozart, in one of his letters to his father, gives a very amusing account of a lesson in which he had tried to make the young lady compose a minuet. He wrote later that she was both stupid and lazy, and he finally gave up the lessons in disgust.
Mozart's great desire, as always, was to write an opera, and, through Noverre, the ballet-master of the Grand Opera, whose acquaintance he had made in Vienna six years before, there seemed to be a fair prospect of the realization of his wish. Noverre set a librettist to work, and the text of the first act of an opera was soon ready. Meanwhile Noverre wanted some ballet music, and Mozart wrote for him the overture and incidental dances for Les Petits Riens. Nothing more, however, came of the opera. The composer, nevertheless, had one musical success during his stay in Paris. This was the production at the Concert Spirituel of his symphony in D, known as the "Parisian." In a letter to his father Mozart tells how warmly it was received, and how the audience were struck with certain passages and began applauding in the middle of the movements. There is no doubt that the symphony was the finest that he had composed up to that time; being written to suit the Parisian taste, it is lighter and more brilliant in style than most of its predecessors, without becoming thereby tawdry or frivolous. This was the first symphony that Mozart had scored for full orchestra, and the rich and varied colouring of the wind instruments shows how he had profited by listening to the fine performances at Mannheim.
Whether the success of his symphony would have led to Mozart's ultimately obtaining a good appointment at Paris cannot be said, for almost immediately after the production of the work a sad event brought about an entire change in his plans. This was the death of his mother, which occurred on July 3, 1778, after a fortnight's illness. His father was anxious, for more than one reason, that he should return home. Not only was there the natural desire for his son's company and support in his bereavement, there was also the apprehension that the young man, now that his mother's restraining influence was removed, might fall into the hands of bad companions.
At this juncture an opening unexpectedly presented itself in Salzburg. The Archbishop had by this time become conscious of the mistake he had made in allowing the young genius to leave him, and was anxious to have him back if possible. The death of the old kapellmeister Lolli, which occurred at this time, gave the Archbishop the opportunity he desired, and, after long negotiations, Lolli's post was offered to Leopold Mozart, and that of second kapellmeister to his son, whose salary was to be 500 florins a year. It was also conceded that he should have leave of absence whenever he wanted to write an opera.
Greatly as Mozart disliked Salzburg—and with good reason, after the Archbishop's treatment of him—he at once yielded to his father's wishes, and accepted the post. There can be no doubt that he did so all the more readily in consequence of one piece of news contained in his father's letter. This was that his beloved Aloysia Weber was engaged to sing at Salzburg, and would be living with the Mozarts. He therefore left Paris on September 26, travelling by way of Strasburg, Mannheim, and Munich, at each of which places he remained for some time. At Munich he visited the Webers, who had removed thither from Mannheim. Here a great disappointment awaited him. His beloved Aloysia had proved faithless, and received him coldly. Mozart thereupon sat down to the piano and sang, "Ich lass das Madel gern, das mich nicht will," (I willingly leave the maid who does not want me). Aloysia subsequently made an unhappy marriage with an actor named Lange, and became a distinguished prima donna. In her later years she confessed that she had failed to realize the genius of Mozart, and saw in him nothing but a little man.