The Archbishop was in execrable humor. Joseph II. was not fond of priests, and he had greeted him coolly. The wrath of Hieronymous was poured out on the composer's head, for he had not forgotten or forgiven Mozart's brusque departure, and he could not endure his independent spirit. He made him eat with the servants. He would not allow him to play the pianoforte at a concert given for the benefit of the widows and orphans of musicians; and when he was forced into giving him permission, he hated him the more. He ordered him to be present every morning in an antechamber to receive orders; and when Mozart rebelled, he forgot his sacred calling and abused him indecently; "black-guard, regular ass, idiot, dirty rascal," were the mildest of the reproaches. He showed him the door, and Mozart, who had kept his temper, said that if His Grace wished it, he would be only too willing to resign; and he wrote his father that his prospects in Vienna were bright and that he could not bear the thought of returning to Salzburg and continual humiliation. His success as a pianoforte player at the charitable concert was such that many desired to take lessons of him, in spite of the price demanded by him—six ducats for twelve lessons. "Thanks be to my pupils, I have as much as I want; but I will not have many pupils; I prefer few, and to be better paid than other teachers." He protests as follows: "If I were offered two thousand florins by the Archbishop, and only one thousand florins in any other place, I should go to the other place; for instead of the other one thousand florins I should enjoy health and contentment of mind." But Leopold Mozart was not the man of former days; he was nervous and almost hypochondriacal. He had heard that his son was living a dissipated life; and he understood that he was neglecting his religious duties; it even grieved him to think that Wolfgang ate meat on fast-days. Nor did he approve of the renewed intercourse with the Weber family, for Aloysia was now married to Lange, "a jealous fool," and the mother and daughters were in Vienna. In June, 1781, young Mozart determined to procure from the Archbishop his dismission, as he heard that the departure to Salzburg was near at hand. He found in the antechamber Count Arco ready to receive him. There were violent words, and finally Arco kicked him out of the room. And thus was Mozart set free.
ALOYSIA WEBER, sister to Mozart's wife, and her husband JOS. LANGE, actor and painter.
From the first volume of "Die Ephemeriden der Litteratur und des Theaters." Berlin, 1785. Drawn by Lange himself. We owe to him the last portrait of Mozart.
It was summer, the nobility had gone to their country seats, and there were few lessons and few concerts. Mozart worked at pianoforte sonatas and dreamed of an opera. Josephine Aurnhammer, remarkably fat, ugly, and an excellent pianist, fell in love with him, and he was therefore obliged to gradually break off his acquaintance with the "sentimental mastodon." In December Clementi came to Vienna, and he and Mozart played before the Emperor. Mozart was proclaimed victor, and the Emperor gave him fifty ducats and saw in him the man to assist him in founding the lyric German drama. Stephanie, the inspector of the opera, had provided the text of "Die Entführung aus dem Serail" (The Escape from the Seraglio) and Mozart had already written much of the music before Clementi's visit. In a letter to his father he describes the work of a day. "At six o'clock my hair-dresser awakes me; by seven I am shaven, curled, and dressed; I compose until nine, and then give lessons until one; I then dine alone, unless I am invited to some great house, in which case my dinner is put off until two or three; then I work again about five or six, unless I go to a concert, in which case I work after my return until one in the morning." In July (the 13th or the 16th, for there is a dispute concerning the date), 1782, "The Escape from the Seraglio" was given. The house was crammed, there was no end to the applause and cheering, and performances followed one another in quick succession. The German opera was established; but the Emperor Joseph only said, "Too fine for our ears, and too many notes." Mozart replied, "Just as many notes as are necessary, your Majesty." It was in this opera, according to Carl Maria von Weber, that Mozart arrived at the full maturity of his genius.
MOZART'S WIFE.
Constanze Weber. From a woodcut by A. Neumann, after a photograph from an aquarelle painting on ivory, in the Mozarteum, in Salzburg.
The 4th of August, 1782, Mozart married Constanze Weber, before the arrival of his father's formal consent. He had been in love with her for some months, and in December of the year before he had written his father about her. "She is the martyr of the family.... She looks after everything in the house, and yet can never do right. She is not ugly, but she is far from being beautiful. Her whole beauty consists in her dark eyes and good figure. She is not intellectual, but she has common sense enough to fulfil her duties as a wife and mother. She is not inclined to extravagance; on the contrary, she is always badly dressed, for the little her mother can do is done for the two others, never for her. True, she likes to be neat and clean, but not smart; and almost all that a woman needs she can make for herself; she understands housekeeping, has the best heart in the world—she loves me and I love her—tell me if I could wish for a better wife?" The father was sorely vexed. He saw poverty and "starving brats." He disapproved of the Weber family. With reluctance he finally sent the parental blessing. The wedding was simple, and the supper was given by the Baroness von Waldstädten, a famous pianist, and a woman of unsavory reputation. The income of the newly-married couple was precarious and uncertain, and so it was until the divorce of death, but man and wife were very happy. They were young—Mozart was twenty-six and Constanze was about eighteen—and they took no thought of the morrow. The morning after the wedding the Abbé Stadler called upon them, and he was asked to breakfast. Constanze in her marriage dress made the fire and prepared the coffee, and with laughter they thus began their married life, without money and with a carelessness that bordered on recklessness. To Constanze even this pinched life was a relief, for she had long suffered from the intolerance of a drunken mother. Mozart's love for his wife was town talk. Kelly, the English tenor, in later years, spoke of "the passionate love" of the composer. He told her everything, even his faults and sins, and she was ever tender and faithful. She was not unmusical; in fact she played and sang, and was especially fond of fugues. She told him stories while he worked. She cut his meat for him at table. As she was not robust, he, in turn, was most careful of her health, and often denied himself that she might be more comfortable. There are German romances in existence that deal with alleged love episodes in the life of Mozart, and in which he is represented as often unfaithful to his wife. Grave historians have not thought it an unworthy task to examine the current scandals of his life in Vienna. It is true that the manners and customs of the Viennese were free and easy. It was an age of gallantry. It is not improbable that he was exposed to many temptations. At the same time the looseness of his life was grossly exaggerated, and specific charges that were made are now known to be legends. Hummel, who lived in Mozart's house as a pupil, wrote in 1831: "I declare it to be untrue that Mozart abandoned himself to excess, except on those rare occasions when he was enticed by Schikaneder."