The first trio began, but it had not proceeded far ere Schachtner's attention was drawn to the boy at his side. He was actually playing the part—and playing it correctly! The second violin ceased bowing in astonishment, and allowed Wolfgang to go on alone, which he did to the end. Schachtner and the father exchanged glances, and the former perceived that Leopold's eyes were full of tears. After this trial the boy was allowed to play in the remaining pieces, unaccompanied by Schachtner. At the conclusion, emboldened by success, he volunteered to play the first violin's part—an offer which was greeted with laughter; but, nothing daunted, he seized his violin and began, and although he made many mistakes, and was on the point of breaking down several times, he persisted to the end.
With his devotion to music and all that concerned the art, Wolfgang possessed a lovable, affectionate nature that yielded a ready obedience to his parents' wishes. For his mother, Anna Maria, and his sister Marianne he showed great fondness, but before either of these he placed his father. 'Next to God comes papa,' he used to say. He could be very merry on occasions, but a natural seriousness which showed itself in connection with his love for music gave rise to fears that he would not survive his childhood. Music to him was all-absorbing—everything else had to yield to it, and nothing could take its place. When Herr Schachtner, who had grown very fond of the child, carried him from one room to another the march had to be accompanied by the beating of a drum, and the only toys he cared for were such as could make music. When musical sounds were not actually forthcoming the rhythmical movements of his body and limbs implied their existence beneath the surface.
The family were in poor circumstances, for Leopold Mozart had no means beyond the salary which he received from the Court. The discovery of his children's gifts, therefore, offered the father a strong inducement to turn their powers to advantage, both for the supply of the family's needs and to provide for Wolfgang and Marianne a sound education in music. With this object he determined to travel with the children, as Salzburg itself offered no facilities for making their talents known. A first experiment in January, 1762, proved so successful that in the following September they set out for Vienna with the object of playing before the Imperial Court. Wolfgang was at this time six years old, and Marianne eleven. At Linz, where they stopped for several days, they gave a successful concert under the patronage of the Governor-General of the province. Every one was delighted with the playing of the children, and they were fortunate in securing the presence of a young nobleman who happened to be visiting at the Governor's house on his way to Vienna, for he was sure to carry the news of what he had heard to the capital. From this point they continued their journey by water as far as the monastery of Ips, where they purposed resting for the night.
The grey old building, seated on the banks of the Danube, with the waters of the river lapping the base of its walls, looked invitingly restful to the travellers who sought its seclusion on that sultry September afternoon. Three friars who formed part of the travelling party entered the monastery at the same time, and on their retiring to say Mass in the chapel Wolfgang contrived to slip in behind them unperceived and to make his way into the organ-loft. Shortly afterwards the Franciscan monks, who were entertaining a party of guests in the refectory, were startled at hearing the organ pealing forth from the chapel. One of the hosts left the table to ascertain who the player could be, and, hastily returning, beckoned the company to follow him. On reaching the chapel they paused to listen, holding their breath, as their companion pointed to the tiny figure of a child seated in the loft. Was it possible, they asked themselves, that a child could produce such beautiful music? They remained standing, rooted to the spot by the enchanting strains which poured from the organ, until Wolfgang, happening to espy them, brought his voluntary to a close and crept meekly down from his perch.
'They remained standing, rooted to the spot.'[ToList]
Throughout the remainder of their journey to Vienna Wolfgang was the life of the party, full of spirits and eager curiosity to learn the name and history of everything they met. At the customs-house on the frontier he made friends with the officials, and secured an easy pass for the party by playing an air on his violin. Every one was charmed with his conversation and sprightly intelligence, and, above all, with his music.
When they reached Vienna it was to find that the fame of the children's playing had preceded them through the reports of those who had witnessed the performance at Linz. A Court introduction was easily obtained, for the royal family were desirous of hearing the prodigies, and an early day was fixed for the visit to Schönbrunn. It was fortunate for Leopold Mozart that the Imperial family were devoted to art. Charles VI. was an accomplished musician; his daughter, the afterwards Empress Maria Theresa (of whom we have already heard in our story of Haydn), had from an early age shown a fondness and talent for music; whilst the Emperor Joseph not only sang well, but played the harpsichord and violoncello.
A kind and gracious welcome awaited the party on their arrival at the palace. The Emperor took to Wolfgang at once, and was so delighted with his performance that he called him 'kleinen Hexenmeister' (little magician), and forthwith set to work to test his powers to the uttermost. Not only was the boy made to play difficult pieces at sight, but he instantly complied with the Emperor's joking suggestion that he should play with one finger. The keyboard was then covered with a cloth, so as to conceal the notes, but Wolfgang played just as finely as before, receiving for this crowning feat the loud applause of the company. The children were treated with great kindness by both the Emperor and Empress; and Wolfgang showed his affection for the august lady by climbing into her lap and giving her a hug, just as he might have done to his mother. The performance at Court was repeated on several occasions, each time with greater applause; and amongst the audience was the beautiful Marie Antoinette, who, later on, became Queen of the French. The boy evinced a strong fancy for the Princess, and one day, when he happened to slip on the polished floor and was helped to his feet by the Princess's hand, he turned to her with a grave air and said, 'You are very good, and I will marry you,' 'Why, pray?' inquired Marie, with a smile. 'Out of gratitude, of course,' responded Wolfgang, still more gravely.