“No, not spoiling it, dearest father,” replied the boy, flourishing the paper exultantly in the air. “See, I am writing a concerto[10] on it. The first part is all done. Look at it yourself.”
“Yes, it must be fine stuff you have been scrawling, you silly little fellow,” said his father, laughing. He took the paper and at first only hastily glanced at it, but suddenly his gaze was riveted upon it, and the utmost astonishment was manifest in his countenance. At last he looked up and addressed the Count. “Truly, this is a correct concerto, Herr Count,” he said exultantly, while tears of delight and surprise stood in his eyes. “It is written in accordance with the rules of the art, only it is too difficult for any one to play.”
“It is only a concerto,” replied little Wolfgang. “It must be practised some time before one can play it; but after all, it is not so difficult as you think. I will show you how it goes on the piano, papa.”[11]
The little fellow, barely five years old, eagerly ran to the piano and began playing with enthusiasm. Of course he hesitated a little at first, and the more difficult passages did not go well at the first trial; but it was not long before he had it so completely in hand that the working up of the themes was clearly apparent. Father Mozart stood speechless with rapture. Count Herbenstein was overcome with astonishment, and both contemplated the boy with something like reverence.
“Herr Vice Chapelmaster,” at last said Count Herbenstein, “I congratulate you from the bottom of my heart. If God spare your child’s life, he will one day be a great artist.”
“Yes, he will be a great artist,” repeated Father Mozart, in the exuberance of his joy, as he took little Wolfgang in his arms and kissed him. “If Heaven will keep him safe and well, I will never again complain of anything, or envy the power and greatness of the Archbishop.”
“With such a treasure as this you will have no occasion to do so,” said the Count, pointing to Wolfgang. “And now, God keep you. May we have a speedy and happy reunion.” He shook hands heartily with Father Mozart, kissed little Wolfgang, and went away to tell his friends what wonderful things he had seen at the vice chapelmaster’s.
From this time on Father Mozart took unusual pains with the instruction of his children, particularly with Wolfgang. The result was so satisfactory that before his son had finished his sixth year he decided to make a concert tour with him and his sister, introduce the two little artists to the great world, and challenge its admiration. In reality, he ran no risk. Success was assured in advance, for Wolfgang’s ability increased with such wonderful rapidity as to astonish even his father, who was by no means easily satisfied, but on the contrary very exacting. The little man not only displayed extraordinary facility and dexterity in piano playing, but he also composed a large number of pretty pieces, which he played over to his father, who wrote them out.[12] He no longer cared for anything but his loved music. He took no part in the sports of children of his age after his father began his instruction. He also displayed unusual interest in the study of mathematics, and was completely absorbed in melody and harmony.
Preparations for the journey were soon made, and little Mozart was delighted with the prospect. He had not the slightest fear of appearing before strangers in public. On the contrary, he was eager to surprise them with his rare talent. Their first visit was to Vienna, where Father Mozart hoped to find patrons and friends who could secure their presentation at the royal court. They made the journey by way of Linz,[13] and thence by the regular passenger boat down the Danube. He took the whole family with him, and as all were buoyant with hope, the journey was a pleasant one. Wolfgang particularly enjoyed himself because of his open and trusting disposition. He mingled freely in his lively way with the passengers, chatted with each and every one, was fondled and caressed by all, and even made friends with the rough crew by his merry antics.
On the way they reached the little village of Ipo, on the Danube, where the vessel remained a short time, as some of the passengers wished to visit a monastery in the vicinity. Father Mozart and his family also went there. It was solitary, silent, and solemn in the great auditorium of the church, for the monks were at dinner. Thoughtful and awestruck, Wolfgang looked at the lofty building, its tall, slender columns and brilliantly stained windows, until at last his gaze rested upon a magnificent organ. His eyes flashed.[14]