You know how hateful Salzburg is to me!—not alone on account of the unjust treatment received there by both my father and myself—though that in itself is enough to make one wish to wipe the place clean out of one's memory. But even supposing that things turned out so that we could live well—living well and living happily are two things, and the latter I should never be able to do without the aid of magic—it would be against the natural order of things! It would be the greatest pleasure to me to embrace my dear father and sister, and the sooner the better; but I cannot deny that my joy would be doubled if the reunion took place anywhere but in Salzburg. I should have far more hope of living happily and contentedly.
He goes on to explain that it is not because Salzburg is small that he dreads returning to it, but because it offers no field for his talent, music being but little esteemed there; he remarks with bitter satire how the Archbishop pretends to seek with much parade for a kapellmeister and a prima donna, and in reality does nothing.
Soon after his father gives him further information as to the position of affairs (August 27, 1778):—
I have written to you already that your recall here is desired, and they beat about the bush with me for a long time without getting me to commit myself; until at last, after Lolli's death, I was obliged to tell the Countess that I had addressed a petition to the Archbishop, which, however, simply appealed to his favour by drawing attention to my long and uncomplaining services. The conversation then turned upon you, and I expressed myself as frankly upon all necessary points as I had previously done to Count Stahremberg. At last she asked me whether you would come if the Archbishop were to give me Lolli's post, and you Adlgasser's, which, as I had already calculated, would bring us in PARIS, 1778. together one thousand florins a year; I could do nothing else but answer that I had no doubt that if this happened you would consent for love of me, especially as the Countess declared that there was not the least doubt that the Archbishop would allow you to travel in Italy every second year, since he himself had said how important it was to hear something new from time to time, and that he would furnish you with good letters of introduction. If this were to happen, we might reckon securely on one hundred and fifteen florins a month; and, as things now are, on more than one hundred and twenty florins. We should be better off than in any other place where living is twice as dear, and, not having to look so closely after money, we should be able to think more of amusement. But I am far from thinking the affair a certainty, for I know how hard such a decision will be to the Archbishop. You have the entire goodwill and sympathy of the Countess, that is certain; and it is equally certain that old Arco, Count Stahremberg, and the Bishop of Konigsgratz, are all anxious to bring the matter to a conclusion.
But there are reasons, as is always the case; and, as I have always told you, the Countess and old Arco are afraid of my leaving also. They have no one to succeed me as a clavier-teacher: I have the name of teaching well—and, indeed, the proofs are there. They know of no one; and, should a teacher come from Vienna, is it likely that he would give lessons for four florins or a ducat the dozen, when anywhere else he would have two or three ducats? This sets them all in perplexity. But, as I have said before, I do not reckon on it, because I know the Archbishop. It may be true that he sincerely wishes to secure you; but he cannot make up his mind, especially when it concerns giving.
Probably Wolfgang counted on this fact, and refrained on that account from treating the matter seriously. Just at this time his discomfort in Paris was lightened by a pleasant event. His old London friend Bach, (Vol. I., p. 39), had been invited to write an opera ("Amadis") for Paris. "The French are asses, and always will be," remarks Wolfgang thereupon (July 9, 1778); "they can do nothing themselves, but are obliged to have recourse to foreigners. Bach came to Paris to make the necessary arrangements, and Wolfgang wrote (August 27, 1778):—
Herr Bach has been in Paris for the last fortnight. He is going to write a French opera. He has come to hear the singers; then he goes back to London, writes the opera, and returns to put it on the stage.[ 34 ] You may imagine his joy and mine at our meeting. Perhaps mine is SUMMONS TO SALZBURG. more sincere, but it must be acknowledged that he is an honest man, and does people justice. I love him, as you know, from my heart, and have a high esteem for him. As for him, he does not flatter or exaggerate as some do, but both to myself and others he praises me seriously and sincerely.
Bach had introduced Wolfgang to the Marshal de Noailles,[ 35 ] and the latter had invited them both, as well as Bach's "bosom friend" Tenducci (Vol. I., p. 41), to St. Germain. There they spent some pleasant days together, and it need hardly be said that Mozart composed a scena for Tenducci, with pianoforte, oboe, horn, and bassoon accompaniment, the instruments being taken by dependents of the Marshal, chiefly Germans, who played well.[ 36 ]
Meanwhile the time for decision drew near. The Salzburg authorities had made a definite proposal to L. Mozart, as he had wished, and he wrote to his son in a way which hardly left him a choice (August 31, 1778):—
You do not like Paris, and I scarcely think you are wrong. My heart and mind have been troubled for you until now, and I have been obliged to play a very ticklish part, concealing my anxiety under the semblance of light-heartedness, in order to give the impression that you were in the best of circumstances and had money in abundance, although I well knew to the contrary. I was very doubtful of gaining my point because, as you know, the step we took and your hasty resignation left us little to hope from our haughty Archbishop. But my clever management has carried me through, and the Archbishop has agreed to all my terms, both for you and myself. You are to have five hundred florins, and he expressed regret at not being able to make you kapellmeister at once. You are to be allowed to act as my deputy when the work is beyond me, or I am unfit to do it. He said he had always intended to give you a better post, &c.; in fact, to my amazement, he made the politest apologies. More than that! he has given five florins additional to Paris,[ 37 ] so that he may take the heaviest duties, and enable you to act as concertmeister again. So that PARIS, 1778. we shall get altogether, as I told you before, an income of one thousand florins. Now I should like to know whether you think my head is worth anything, and whether or not I have done my best for you. I have thought of everything. The Archbishop has declared himself prepared to let you travel where you will, if you want to write an opera. He apologised for his refusal last year by saying that he could not bear his subjects to go about begging. Now Salzburg is a middle point between Munich, Vienna, and Italy. It will be easier to get a commission for an opera in Munich than to get an official post, for German composers are scarce. The Elector's death has put a stop to all appointments, and war is breaking out again. The Duke of
