336 



MOZAHT 



longer commanded the limitless admiration and 

 interest so readily accorded to the prodigy fifteen 

 years Wore. In poor lodgings and amid depress- 

 ing surroundings the mothers health gave way; 

 she died in her nun's anus ; and Mozart returned to 

 the paternal roof in Salzlmrg. 



In 1781, having re-entered the sen-ice of the 

 archbishop, he followed him with the rest of the 

 prelate's household to Vienna. Although the arch- 

 bishop was proud to have such a famous artist 

 in lii- suite, he hated Mozart, and even the com- 

 pliments BO easily won on all hands hy the young 

 man were made 'so many occasions to wound his 

 proud spirit. At last, stung )>y the studied and 

 systematic insult to which he was subjected by his 

 patron, Mozart retorted in language more caustic 

 than prudent, which procured him an instant and 

 ignominious dismissal. 



Mozart took lodgings with his Mannheim friends, 

 the Welters, who had now settled in Vienna. The 

 father, his firm friend, was now Head, and Aloysia 

 was married ; but her place in Mozart's heart was 

 taken hy her younger sister Constance, a very 

 gentle and attractive girl. Constance made 

 a loving and devoted wife, but a wretched 

 manager. She kept her husband up to his engage- 

 ments and amused him hy her powers as a 

 story-teller ; but debts and difficulties increased. 

 Just a month previous to his marriage he pro- 

 duced the charming little opera, Die Entfuhrung 

 aiu dan Serai/, which paved the way for the 

 next, The Marriage of Figaro, the most delightful 

 of lyric comedies. With his magic wand he touched 

 the somewhat coarse or at least questionable ele- 

 ments in Beaumarehais' play, and these assumed 

 an ideal form in a supernatural atmosphere of 

 pretty piquancy where naughtiness is unknown. 

 The opera was more than a success, it created a 

 furore ; yet jealousy and court intrigue prevented 

 any reward, any acknowledgment that the greatest 

 living musician was labouring and hungering in 

 their miilst. More generous appreciation was 

 offered him in Prague, and, being commissioned 

 to write an opera lor the theatre there, he set 

 to work on Don Giovanni. The summer-house 

 and the little stone table on which most of the 

 charming music was written are still shown in the 

 gardens, where, amid the noise of conversation 

 and skittles, he worked apparently undisturbed. 

 The extraordinary success of Don Giovanni made it 

 impossible fur the court still to overlook the com- 

 poser, and he was appointed ' Kammer-Musicus ' 

 to Joseph II., his duties ln-ing to supply dance-music 

 for the imperial halls at a salary of 80 a year. 



Pecuniary embarrassments pressed heavily on 

 his heart once so light, and he writes of gloomy 

 thoughts, which he ha* to repress with all his 

 might. He had great hopes that a journey to 

 Berlin, viA Dresden and Leipzig, in company with 

 his friend and pupil. Prince Lichnowski, might 

 give some chance of bettering his condition ; and 

 indeed Frederick-William II. of Prussia was so 

 delighted with him that he offered him the post of 

 Kapellmeister with about 450 a year. But a 

 sentimental loyalty prevented him from accepting it 

 Ever-increasing difficulties induced him to inform 

 the emperor of the king of Prussia's offer, and when 

 Joseph seemed painfully surprised, Mozart, con- 

 firmed in an unreasoning affection for a monarch who 

 did so little for him, exclaimed: 'I throw m\-elf 

 upon vour kindness and remain.' Joseph II. 

 ordered a new opera. Com fan Tntti, but owing to 

 his death, and the indifference to art of his successor 

 Leopold II., the composer reaped no pecuniary 

 benefit. He made one more desperate application 

 for A regular post, and was rewarded by being 

 appointed assistant and successor (without pay for 

 the present) to the Cathedral Kapellmeister, who 



outlived him many years. His carelessness and 

 improvidence beset him with endless petty em- 

 ItarrawmentH, and Constance's frequent illnesses, 

 which necessitated prolonged visits to health- 

 resorts, were an additional and serious drain on 

 the precarious income. He was hastened towards 

 financial ruin too by his beetlless and overpowering 

 generosity, often casting his pearls before swine 

 'false friends,' hi- sister-in-law terms them, 'secret 

 blood-suckers and worthless people, intercourse 

 with whom ruined his reputation.' In ITS' I, 

 Mozart's health even then breaking down, an 

 adventurer, a brother freemason, applied to him for 

 help. This was Schikaneder, a theatre manager, 

 who found himself in difficulties, from which he 

 said only a new opera by Mo/art could save him. 

 He suggested the subject himself, The Magic 

 Flute, and, seeing Mozart 's failing health and un- 

 certain powers of work, he took care to keep him 

 under his own eye, giving him working accom- 

 modation in his own house, and keeping him in 

 good humour with copious supplies of wine and 

 frequent invitations to dinner. For a short time 

 Mozart, harassed and ailing, sought to forget him- 

 self in a continual fever of excitement, and the 

 lap-es of the-e few sad weeks, multiplied and mag- 

 nified, gave rise to the judgments which upon 

 those who so hastily condemn reflect double the 

 dishonour they would impute. As the straggle 

 with the world became more unequal, as the iron 

 entered deeper into his soul, his vision became 

 clearer to read the mystery of life. In six weeks 

 he wrote his three greatest symphonies, in which 

 first throbs that intense expression of passion and 

 ' Weltsehmerz' which was to raise Beethoven, his 

 stronger successor, to the highest place of honour 

 in Music's temple. 



In March 1791 he began the Magic Flute, which 

 was produced on the 30th September; and, though 

 it was at first coldly received, it rapidly conquered 

 public opinion, and in the end made the fortune 

 of the lucky Schikaneder. While he was at work 

 on the opera Mozart received the famous visit 

 about which so much mystery has been made. 

 One night a stranger, now known to have been 

 the steward of a nobleman, Count Walsegg, ap- 

 peared and commissioned him to write a lieqiiicm 

 Ifsji to be finished in a month. He enjoined the 

 strictest secrecv, and departed as mysteriously as 

 he had come. The month passed, and Mozart was 

 just stepping into the travelling-carriage which 

 was to take him to Prague for the production of a 

 new opera, when the stranger again appeared and 

 reminded him of bis promise. The incident made 

 a deep impression on him ; and the idea that it was 

 a summons from the other world grew upon the 

 fevered brain and broken heart of the composer. 

 He was really dying, and, as he worked hard at the 

 Requiem, he* felt, as he said, that he was writing 

 it for himself. On the 4th of December a few 

 friends met in his room to rehearse the part of the 

 work which was finished, but the dying composer 

 was unequal to the effort. During the evening 

 he seenieu, even in unconsciousness, to be occupied 

 with his work until at midnight came the last 

 summons. 



He was buried in the common ground of St 

 Mark's Churchyard, and no friendly eye saw his 

 remains laid in their last resting place. When the 

 bereaved wife made inquiries a few days after- 

 wards, she found that the gravediggcr hod been 

 changed, and her search for the grave proved fruit- 

 less ; thus no one knows where Mozart was buried. 

 It was many years after his death that Vienna 

 awoke to sense of her shame and erected a beautiful 

 monument to the memory of her adopted son. 



Mozart wrote 624 compositions ; he left no branch 

 of the art uncurichcd by his genius ; and he takes a- 



