L. Mozart was not altogether displeased at the turn of affairs; what really angered him was to hear from Wolfgang (February 4, 1778): "I am getting on at my ease with the music for Mons. de Jean, for which I am to have 200 florins; I can stay here as long as I like, for neither my board nor lodging cost me anything." His father had warned him before (December 11, 1777): "If you examine your conscience you will find that you have a strong tendency to procrastination"; and now he writes (February 12, 1778): "I am astonished to hear that you are finishing Mons. de Jean's music at your ease. Can it be that you have not already completed it! And you were thinking of leaving Mannheim on the 15th, and have been making expeditions to Kirchheim? Well, never mind, only beware that Herr Wendling and Mons. de Jean do not play you false, for the proposal was only made with the intention of enabling you to go with them. Let me have an answer by the next post, that I may know how the matter stands." The information which Wolfgang furnished (February 14, 1778) was not consolatory:—
Herr de Jean, who also goes to Paris to-morrow, has paid me only ninety-six florins (miscalculating the half by four florins) because I had written only two concerti and three quartetti. But he will be obliged to pay me the whole, for I have arranged with Wendling to send the music after them. It is not extraordinary that I should not have been able to finish it. I never have a quiet hour; night is my only time for writing, for I cannot even get up early. Besides, one is not always in the humour for writing. I could certainly scribble away the whole day; but when a thing is to go forth to the world bearing my name, I am determined that MANNHEIM. I will not be ashamed of it. You know how stupid I am when I have always to compose for one instrument (and that one which I dislike). I have written other things from time to time for a change, such as clavier duets and portions of masses. But now I have set to work in earnest on the clavier duets, so that I may have them printed.
In a letter from Paris (July 20, 1778) he mentions only "two quartets for the flute," and on October 3, 1778, he speaks of "the flute concerto." Two quartets for flute, violin, viola, and violoncello are known. One of them (281 K.) is inscribed, "Mannheim il 25 Dec., 1777," and must therefore be the same which is mentioned in the letter of December 18 as being almost finished. It is in D major, in the usual three movements, the middle one, an adagio 3-8, being accompanied throughout pizzicato, the flute leading the melody. The whole piece is easy, both in style and composition, the flute kept mainly in the foreground, and the accompanying parts firmly and skilfully handled, without any actual elaboration. The second quartet (298 K.), according to a notice appended by a strange hand to the original manuscript (in the imperial library at Vienna), was composed in Paris in 1778. It is in A major, and begins with variations on a simple theme, in which each instrument in succession comes in obbligato. Then follows a minuet, and as a finale a "rondieaoux," the heading of which testifies to Mozart's merry humour; it runs: "Allegretto grazioso, ma non troppo presto, perö non troppo adagio, cosi, cosi, con molto garbo ed espressione." It is likewise easy in every respect, shorter, and somewhat fresher than the first movement. A flute concerto in D major (314 K.) bears much the same character, and was composed for the "true philanthropist, the Indian Dutchman." It is lively and cheerful, without laying claim to deeper significance; the accompaniment, although kept well in hand, betrays in little touches the practised hand of a master. An andante in C major for the flute, with orchestral accompaniment has also been preserved (315 K.). The original is not dated, but the handwriting, the Mannheim paper, and the well-founded assumption that Mozart never wrote for the flute, except by commission, point to this time. Fürstenau, however, remarks that Mozart treats the flute THE FATHER'S DISAPPOINTMENT. with a perfect knowledge of the instrument, its technique and easily attained effects.
Nothing is known of the mass on which he was engaged at Mannheim, unless a detached Kyrie in E flat (322 K.), serious and dignified in expression, original and free in treatment, may be referred to this period.
He writes on the 28th February, 1778, that he has still two clavier sonatas to write: "But I am not in a hurry with them, for they cannot be printed here. Nothing can be done by subscription—it is beggary, and the engraver will not take the risk on himself unless I promise him half the profits. I would rather have them printed in Paris, where the publishers are glad of something new, and pay capitally, and where much also can be done by subscription." One of the sonatas (304 K.) was, according to the inscription, finished in Paris; all the six were published there in 1778 by Sieber, and were dedicated to the Electress (301-306 K.).
Wolfgang's dilatoriness was a hard blow to his father, who had counted on the price of these compositions to cover the cost of the Mannheim visit and of the journey to Paris. He saw plainly that he must not only defray these himself, but must also provide for the future, and he found himself in great perplexity. He writes in troubled strain (February 16, 1778):—
We have tried every means to make you happy, and ourselves through you, and at least to set your future career on a firm foundation: but fate has willed that we should not succeed. Our last venture has sunk me very low indeed, and, as you know, I am now seven hundred florins in debt, knowing not how I am to support myself, your mother and sister, on my monthly pay; not a kreuzer can I hope for from our prince. You cannot but see clearly, therefore, that the future fate of your old parents, and of your good devoted sister, is in your hands.
The sister, an ever-present witness of the cares and perplexities of her father, at a loss to know how the new year's bills were to be met, or how he was to procure the new clothes he needed, grasped the state of affairs very thoroughly. She practised the clavier with redoubled zeal, and had made great efforts thoroughly to master thorough-bass and the art of preluding; she foresaw that after her father's death her MANNHEIM. music would be her mother's and her own sole dependence. She was deeply grieved at the bad news from Wolfgang, and "had her full share of weeping." Wolfgang wrote crossly that she "should not cry for nothing" (February 19, 1778); but he must have felt ashamed of himself when his father's answer to this came (February 26, 1778)
She did not cry over nothing when she cried over your letter; but, nevertheless, she said when she heard that you had not got the 200 florins, "Thank God that it is no worse!" although she has considerable interest in the matter, and knows that, in order to go on helping you, her own just claims must be laid aside.
And why was it, the father must have asked himself, that Wolfgang was so suddenly blind to his own interests, and forgetful of his duty to his family? It required no great skill in reading between the lines to find the answer in his son's own letters. The stay in Mannheim influenced his artistic life through the intellectual atmosphere of a capital in which flourished German science and German art; but beyond and above this, it was there that he was seized by the passion which sways the innermost being of man, and blunts for the time every other feeling. We have seen how susceptible he always was to female charms, and how he delighted in intercourse with agreeable women, whose attractions often threw a favourable light on his opinion of their musical acquirements.