For nearly a year the family remained at home, Wolfgang working hard both at playing and composing. The chief works belonging to this period, on none of which it is necessary to dwell, are the first four concertos for the piano, a small sacred cantata, Grabmusik, and the Latin comedy, Apollo et Hyacinthus, written for performance by the students of the Salzburg University. In September, 1767, the whole family left home on a second visit to Vienna, with the intention of being present at the marriage of the Archduchess Maria Josepha with King Ferdinand of Naples, which was shortly to take place. Unfortunately, within a month after their arrival the Archduchess was carried off by small-pox, and Leopold Mozart with all his family fled to Olmütz. His children, nevertheless, did not escape; both were attacked by the complaint, with such severity in the case of Wolfgang that he lay blind for nine days. With the greatest kindness the Dean of Olmütz, Count Podstatsky, who was also a Canon of Salzburg, and therefore knew Mozart, received the whole family into his house, procuring for them the best medical attendance and nursing.
Returning to Vienna in January, 1768, they soon experienced difficulties of all kinds. The Empress Maria Theresa, it is true, as soon as she heard of the dangerous illness of the children whom she had so admired five years before, sent for them; but this visit brought them little profit, for the Emperor was parsimonious, and the nobility followed his example. Even more adverse were the conditions as regards the general public. The Viennese at that time, as Leopold Mozart says in one of his letters, had no desire to see anything serious and sensible, and little or no idea of it; all they cared for was buffoonery, farces, or pantomime. The infant prodigy had been a "draw" in 1762; but they cared little or nothing for the development of the artist a few years later. Added to this was the active opposition of envious musicians. Those who had admired the young child now dreaded the boy of twelve as a dangerous rival. The father says:
"I found that all the clavier players and composers in Vienna opposed our progress, with the single exception of Wagenseil, and he, as he is ill, can do little or nothing for us. The great rule with these people was carefully to avoid all opportunity of seeing us or of examining into Wolfgang's knowledge. And why? So that they, in so many cases when they were asked if they have heard this boy and what they think of him, might always be able to say that they had not heard him, and that it was impossible it could be true; that it was humbug and harlequinade; that matters had been arranged, and that the things given him to play were what he knew already; that it was ridiculous to think he could compose. You see, that is why they avoid us. For anyone who has seen and heard him can no longer say this without the risk of dishonour. I have trapped one of these people. We had arranged with someone to let us know quietly when he would be present. He was to come and bring an extraordinarily difficult concerto. We managed the matter, and he had the opportunity of hearing his concerto played off by Wolfgang as if he knew it by heart. The astonishment of this composer and performer, the expressions which he used in his admiration, gave us all to understand what I have just been pointing out to you. At last he said: 'I can, as an honourable man, say nothing else than that this boy is the greatest man now living in the world; it was impossible to believe.'"
Isolated cases of this kind could do but little to stem the torrent of calumny and depreciation to which the young composer was exposed. But now the Emperor came forward and proposed that Wolfgang should write an opera. The proposal was eagerly accepted; the father saw that a success would not only establish the lad's reputation in Vienna, but would pave the way for further successes in Italy. The text of an opera buffa, La Finta Semplice, was obtained from Coltellini, the poet connected with the theatre, and Wolfgang set to work at once. The score, which contained twenty-five numbers and 558 pages, was soon completed. Jahn, who gives a detailed analysis of the whole opera, concludes his criticism by saying that the work was fully equal to those at that time to be heard on the stage, while in single numbers it surpassed them in nobility and originality of invention and treatment, while it pointed clearly to a greater future. And this, be it remembered, was the composition of a boy of twelve!
In spite of the support of the Emperor, the unscrupulous intrigues of Mozart's enemies, of which his father's letters convey a vivid idea, so influenced the manager of the theatre, Affligio—a scoundrel who, it is satisfactory to learn, ended his days at the galleys—that the opera was never produced. By way of consolation, however, the father had the pleasure of hearing a German operetta by Wolfgang performed. This was Bastien und Bastienne, a piece in one act, which was written for Dr. Messmer, a rich amateur who had built a small theatre in his garden. Wolfgang was also commissioned to compose the music for the dedication of the chapel of an orphan asylum, and to conduct the performance of the same. For this occasion he composed his first Mass (in G major), and an offertorium, Veni sancte Spiritus, of which the latter is the more striking.
On the return of the Mozart family to Salzburg, about the end of 1768, the Archbishop, gratified at the success obtained by a native of the city, had the opera performed by musicians who were in his service. He further appointed Wolfgang concertmeister—that is, leader of the orchestra—and his name appears in this capacity in the Court calendars of 1770.
THE YOUTH (1769-1778)
The greater part of the year 1769 was spent quietly at Salzburg, where Wolfgang, under his father's direction, diligently pursued his studies. In December of that year the father and son set off for Italy, Leopold rightly feeling that such a tour would not only be advantageous to Wolfgang's reputation as a musician, but would enlarge his views and give him wider experience of the world.
The lad was now no longer an infant prodigy, but, it might almost be said, already a mature artist, whose powers were ripening daily, thanks hardly less to his father's judicious training than to his own natural genius. It is noteworthy that he never seems to have been in the least spoiled by his successes; he remained the same natural, affectionate boy that he had always been. The letters that he wrote during his tour to his sister at home are full of charm. While often overflowing with fun, they also show how acute a critic he was of the music which he heard, and how keen an observer of all that passed around him. In this respect they may be compared with the letters written from Italy more than sixty years later by Mendelssohn.