The Love Affairs of Great Musicians Volume I Part 10

This letter seems to have ended the quarrel--the only one we know of their having. For, a week later in a letter to his father, Mozart implies that Constanze and he are once more on excellent terms; also that Nannerl had answered Constanze's letter with appropriate courtesy.

Meanwhile, in spite of the excitement of producing his opera and fighting the strong opposition to it, Mozart is still more deeply absorbed in gaining his father's consent to his marriage. He briefly dismisses his account of his opera's immense success and bends all his ardour to winning over his father. The agony of his soul quivers in every line. Vienna is alive with gossip. Some say that he and Constanze are already married. He fears to compromise the woman he loves. He hints that if he cannot wed her with his father's blessing he will wed her without it.

Meanwhile, the young woman's mother had by this time, got the bit fast in her teeth. Now, the Baroness Waldstadten had been touched by the troubles of the young lovers and had invited Constanze to visit her for some weeks. This excited the mother's apprehension, perhaps not unwisely in view of the levity of the baroness' standards of conduct, and she insisted upon Constanze cutting her visit short.

When Constanze refused this, Frau Weber sent word that if she did not return immediately, the law would be sent for her. This threat drove Mozart to desperation, and the marriage degenerated into a race between the priest and the policeman. Fortunately the priest won. The baroness wrote in person to the father for his consent, advancing Mozart 1,000 gulden to cover the 500 gulden which Constanze would have as a marriage portion; and secured their release from the delayful necessity of publis.h.i.+ng the banns.

Romeo and his Juliet were married on August 4, 1782. Shortly after the wedding the father's consent arrived. It was a rather stingy consent however, and warned Mozart that he could not expect pecuniary a.s.sistance and that he ought to tell Constanze of this fact.

There was an implied insult to the girl's love in this ungracious remark, and it stung Mozart deeply. For Constanze, who had torn up the contract of betrothal on a previous occasion, had not been the girl to take money into account.

Three days after the wedding Mozart wrote to his father a long account of it with a promise that he and his bride would take the first opportunity of asking forgiveness in person. "No one attended the marriage but Constanze's mother and youngest sister, Herr von Thorwarth in his capacity of guardian, Herr von Zetto (Landrath) who gave away the bride, and Gilofsky, as my best man. When the ceremony was over, both my wife and I shed tears; all present (even the priest) were touched on seeing the emotion of our hearts. Our sole wedding festivities consisted of a supper, which Baroness Waldstadten gave us, and indeed it was more princely than baronial. My darling is now one hundred times more joyful at the idea of going to Salzburg; and I am willing to stake--ay, my very life, that you will rejoice still more in my happiness when you really know her; if, indeed, in your estimation, as in mine, a high-principled, honest, virtuous, and pleasing wife ought to make a man happy."

Now we enter upon the test of this romantic devotion--this wedlock of the twenty-six year old musician and the maiden of nineteen, who married in spite of the opposition of both families and in spite of the poverty that awaited them. There are many accounts of the domestic career of these two, written in a tone of patronage or cynicism. But this tone is gratuitous on the part of those who a.s.sume it. As thorough a study of the facts and doc.u.ments as I can make, shows no ground whatsoever for refusing to accept this love-match as an ideal wedding of ideal congeniality, and mutual and common devotion.

Poverty came with all its vicissitudes and settled upon the hearth, but we ought not to forget that both Wolfgang and Constanze had always been poor; that they were used to poverty, and were light-hearted in its presence. When they had no money to buy fuel, they were found dancing together to keep warm. Surely, for two such hearts, poverty was only a detail, and could in no sense be counted of sufficient weight to counterbalance the affection each found in each.

As for Mozart's career we must feel that no amount of wealth would have availed against his improvidence and his extravagance in the small way in which fate permitted him to be extravagant. Nor could a life of bachelorhood or a life with some woman married for money conceivably have made him produce greater compositions--for no greater compositions than those he produced during his married life have ever been produced by any composer under any circ.u.mstances. Let us then read without conviction such accounts as we may find tending to belittle the goodness or cheapen the virtues of Constanze or of Mozart.

The Webers had lived at Vienna in a house called Auge Gottes, and Mozart used to refer to his elopement as "Die Entfuhrung aus dem Auge Gottes,"

as a pun on the name of the opera that had made his marriage possible, "Die Entfuhrung aus dem Serail." It is a curious coincidence that the name of the princ.i.p.al character of this opera was Constanze, and that she was a model of devotion through all trials. Once away from the wrangling mother-in-law, the young couple enjoyed domestic bliss to the height. Later, mother Weber seems to have reformed and to have become a welcome guest in Mozart's house, where Aloysia herself became also a cherished friend.

Nothing could exceed the tenderness of the lovers for each other. It continued to the last. Constanze was so watchful of him that she cut up his meat at dinner when his mind was on his compositions, lest he might cut himself. She used to read aloud to him and tell him stories and hear his improvisations and insist upon their being written out for permanence. While the wife was showing all this solicitude, the husband, genius though he was, was showing equal tenderness to the wife.

All Vienna gossiped about his devotion. When she was ill, he was the most a.s.siduous of nurses, and on one occasion got so into the habit of putting his fingers to his lips and saying "Psst!" to any one who entered the room where she was sleeping, that, on one occasion, on being spoken to in the street, he involuntarily placed his finger on his lips and gave the warning signal. When he was called away from home early, before she was awake, he would leave such a note for her as this: "_Guten Morgen, liebes Weibchen, Ich wunsche, da.s.s Du gut geschlafen habest_" etc., or, as it runs in English: "Good morning, my darling wife! I hope that you slept well, that you were undisturbed, that you will not rise too early, that you will not catch cold, nor stoop too much, nor overstrain yourself, nor scold your servants, nor stumble over the threshold of the adjoining room. Spare yourself all household worries till I come back. May no evil befall you! I shall be home at--o'clock punctually."

Two weeks after the marriage we find Mozart writing to his father in this tone:

"Indeed, previous to our marriage we had for some time past attended ma.s.s together, as well as confessed and taken Holy Communion; and I found that I never prayed so fervently nor confessed so piously, as by her side; and she felt the same. In short, we were made for each other, and G.o.d, who orders all things, and consequently this also, will not forsake us."

They looked forward with great eagerness to visiting Salzburg, and it is not the least evidence of the kindness of Constanze's heart that one of her chief ambitions seems to have been the winning over of the father and the sister. The visit home was to be in November, 1782, but the weather grew very cold, and the wife's condition forbade. Mozart writes to his father that his wife "carries about a little silhouette of you, which she kisses twenty times a day at least." His letters are full of little domestic joys, such as a ball lasting from six o'clock in the evening until seven in the morning,--a game of skittles of which Constanze was especially fond,--a concert where Aloysia sang with great success an aria Mozart wrote for her,--and financial troubles of the most petty and annoying sort.

In June, 1783, Mozart writes his father asking him to be G.o.dfather to the expected visitor, who was to be named after the grandfather, either "Leopold" or "Leopoldine," according as fate decided. Fate decided that the first-born should be a son, and the young couple started gaily to Salzburg, for a visit.

But fate also decided that the visit should not be in any sense a success. Even as they set forth, they were stopped at the carriage by a creditor who demanded thirty gulden [about $15], a small sum, but not in Mozart's power to pay. At Salzburg, Mozart's father and sister seemed not to have outdone themselves in cordiality, and, worst of all, "the poor little fat baby" died after six months of life.

There is little profit and less pleasure in describing the financial troubles of the young couple. They are generally blamed for extravagance and bad management, for which Constanze is chiefly held responsible; but there are many reasons for disbelieving this charge, perhaps the chief of all being old Leopold Mozart's own statement that when he visited them he found them very economical. That was praise from Sir Hubert.

Of Mozart's devotion to his wife in the depths of his heart, there can be no doubt. But the circle he moved in, and his volatile, mischievous, beauty-idolising nature played havoc with his good intentions, though not to the extent implied by some critics who have pictured him as a reckless voluptuary. But just herein is the final proof of Constanze's devotion and her understanding of him, for, while there never was a breath of slander against herself, she found heart to forgive Mozart's ficklenesses. He actually made her the confessional of his excursions from the path of rect.i.tude, and found forgiveness there! "He loved her dearly, and confided everything to her, even his little sins, and she requited him with tenderness and true solicitude."

She always said, "One had to forgive him, one had to be good to him, since he was himself so good."

Four children were born to the devoted couple, all sons; the first child lived, as we have seen, only six months; the second was named Carl; the third was named Leopold; the fourth, Wolfgang Amadeus. Nohl says, "His wife's recovery on these occasions was always very tedious."

In 1787 Mozart's father died, and his letters to his sister show the depth of his grief. Nannerl had married three years before. Her first lover had relinquished her on account of her poverty, but she had captured a widower of means and position.

Mozart's letters to Constanze are not very numerous, because he was away from home neither often nor long. But they make up in tenderness and radiant congeniality what they lack in numbers. In 1789 he decided that a concert tour was necessary to replenish his flattened resources and to take him out of the rut in which the emperor was gradually dropping him as a mere composer of dance music for masked b.a.l.l.s at the court. Mozart travelled in the carriage of his friend and pupil, Prince Carl Lichnowsky; and those who consider railroad travelling unpoetical will do well to read in Mozart's and Beethoven's letters the vivid pictures of the downright misery and tedium of the traveller of that time, even in a princely carriage, to say nothing of the common diligence. Mozart wrote to his wife frequently, and always in the most loverly fas.h.i.+on. He ends his first letter on this journey as follows:

"At nine o'clock at night we start for Dresden, where we hope to arrive to-morrow. My darling wife, I do so long for news of you! Perhaps I may find a letter from you in Dresden. May Providence realise this wis.h.!.+ [_O Gott! mache meine Wunsche wahr!_] After receiving my letter, you must write to me Poste Restante, Leipzig. Adieu, love! I must conclude, or I shall miss the post. Kiss our Carl a thousand times for me, and [_ich bin Dich von ganzem Herzen kussend, Dein ewig getreuer Mozart_] I am, kissing you with all my heart, your ever faithful,

MOZART."

_"Adieu! aime-moi et gardez votre sante, si precieuse a votre epoux."_ In his next, three days later, he says:

"MY DARLING WIFE:--Would that I had a letter from you! If I were to tell you all my follies about your dear portrait, it would make you laugh.

For instance, when I take it out of its case, I say to it, G.o.d bless you, my Stanzerl! G.o.d bless you Spitzbub, Krallerballer, Spitzignas, Bagatellerl, schluck, und druck! and when I put it away again, I let it slip gently into its hiding-place, saying, Now, now, now, now!

[_Nu--nu--nu--nu!_] but with an appropriate emphasis on this significant word; and at the last one I say, quickly, 'Good night, darling mouse, sleep soundly!' I know I have written something very foolish (for the world at all events), but not in the least foolish for us, who love each other so fondly. This is the sixth day that I have been absent from you, and, by heavens! it seems to me a year. Love me as I shall ever love you. I send you a million of the most tender kisses, and am ever your fondly loving husband."

Again three days, and we find him writing at midnight to his "_liebstes bestes Weibchen_" an account of his activities:

"After the opera we went home. Then came the happiest of all moments to me; I found the long ardently wished-for letter from you, my darling, my beloved! I went quickly in triumph to my room, and kissed it over and over again before I broke it open, and then rather devoured than read it. I stayed a long time in my room, for I could not read over your letter often enough, or kiss it often enough.

"Darling wife, I have a number of requests to make of you:

"1st. I beg you not to be melancholy. 2d. That you will take care of yourself, and not expose yourself to the spring breezes. 3d. That you will not go out to walk alone,--indeed, it would be better not to walk at all. 4th. That you feel entirely a.s.sured of my love. I have not written you a single letter without placing your dear portrait before me. 5th. I beg you not only to be careful of your honour and mine in your conduct, but to be equally guarded as to appearances. Do not be angry at this request; indeed, it ought to make you love me still better, from seeing the regard I have for my honour. 6th. Lastly, I wish you would enter more into details in your letters. Now farewell, my best beloved! Remember that every night before going to bed I converse with your portrait for a good half-hour, and the same when I awake. O _stru!

stru!_ I kiss and embrace you 1,095,060,437,082 times (this will give you a fine opportunity to exercise yourself in counting), and am ever your most faithful husband and friend."

Some of his letters are apparently lost, for one dated May 23d gives a list of the letters he had written to his wife--eleven in all (one of them in French)--between April 8th and May 23d. He complains bitterly that in this same time he had only six from her. There is worse news yet to add, seeing how poor they were:

"My darling little wife, when I return, you must rejoice more in me than in the money I bring. 100 Friedrichs-d'or don't make 900, but 700, florins,--at least so I am told here. 2d. Lichnowsky being in haste left me here, so I am obliged to pay my own board (in that expensive place, Potsdam). 3d.----borrowed 100 florins from me, his purse being at so low an ebb. I really could not refuse his request--you know why. 4th. My concert at Leipzig turned out badly, as I always predicted it would; so I went out of my way nearly a hundred miles almost for nothing. You must be satisfied with me, and with hearing that I am so fortunate as to be in favour with the king. What I have written to you must rest between ourselves."

His disappointment at the meagre financial returns from his tour was embittered by the serious illness of his Constanze and the drain upon his sympathy, his time, and his money. It was necessary for him to despatch in various directions a series of those pathetic begging letters that make up so much of his later correspondence.

Shortly after the failure of his concert tour, desperation goaded him to set forth again. He writes again to his _Herzens Weibchen_ or his _Herzaller-liebstes_ with renewed hope:

"I am quite determined to do the best I can for myself here, and shall then be heartily glad to return to you. What a delightful life we shall lead! I will work, and work in such a manner that I may never again be placed by unforeseen events in so distressing a position. Were you with me, I should possibly take more pleasure in the kindness of those I meet here, but all seems to me so empty. Adieu, my love! I am ever your loving Mozart.

"P.S.--While writing the last page, many a tear has fallen on it. But now let us be merry. Look! Swarms of kisses are flying about--Quick!

catch some! I have caught three, and delicious they are."

This tour was again unsatisfactory. He came back almost poorer than he went.

In March, 1791, Constanze had to go to Baden to take the waters for her health. Mozart wrote a letter in advance engaging rooms for her, and taking great care that they were on the ground floor. While Constanze was at Baden, Mozart was getting deeper and deeper into financial hot water, but his letters betrayed great anxiety that she should not be worried, especially as she was about to become a mother again. One of his letters to her was as follows; part of it is French, which I have not translated, and the rest in German, part of which also it seems more vivid to leave in the original:

"MA TReS-CHeRE ePOUSE:--J'ecris cette lettre dans la pet.i.te chambre au Jardin chez Leitgeb [a Salzburg horn-player]; ou j'ai couche cette nuit excellement--et j'espere que ma chere epouse aura pa.s.se cette nuit aussi bien que moi. J'attend avec beaucoup d'impatience une lettre que m'apprendra comme vous avez pa.s.se le jour d'hier; je tremble quand je pense au baigne de St. Antoine; car je crains toujours le risque de tomber sur l'escalier en sortant--et je me trouve entre l'esperance et la crainte--une situation bien desagreable! Si vous n'eties pas grosse, je craignerais moins--mais abandonons cette idee triste!--Le ciel aura eu certainement soin de ma chere Stanza Maria!...

"I have this moment received your dear letter, and find that you are well and in good spirits. Madame Leitgeb tied my neck-cloth for me to-day--but how? Good heavens! I told her repeatedly, 'This is the way my wife does it,' but it was all in vain. I rejoice to hear that you have so good an appet.i.te;... You must walk a great deal, but I don't like you taking such long walks without me. Pray do all I tell you, for it comes from my heart. Adieu, my darling, my only love! I send you 2,999 and 1/2 kisses flying about in the air till you catch them. Nun sag ich dir etwas ins Ohr--du nun mir--nun machen wir da.s.s Maul auf und zu immer mehr--und mehr--endlich sagen wir;--es ist wagen Slampi--Strampi, du kannst dir nun dabei denken was du willst das ist ebben die Comoditat. Adieu, 1,000 tender kisses. Ever your Mozart."

It is evident that during her stay in Baden some person attempted familiarity with Constanze and was rewarded with a box on the ears.

Mozart wrote playfully to her advising her to be even more generous with her punishment, and suggesting that the man's wife would probably a.s.sist her if informed.

It was about this time that Mozart was implicated by the gossips in a domestic tragedy. Frau Hofdammel was a pupil of Mozart's whose husband grew fiendishly jealous of her, attacked her with a razor, wounded her almost to death, and then committed suicide. The story gradually grew up that Mozart was the cause of the man's jealousy, and Otto Jahn, in his first edition of his monumental biography, accepted the story, which he later discarded after Kochel, another biographer, had succeeded in proving that the a.s.sault and suicide took place five days after Mozart's death. Hofdammel seems to have been so far from jealousy of Mozart that he was one of the elect to whom Mozart applied for a loan. There was, however, a young and beautiful singer, Henriette Baranius, in Berlin, who seems to have woven a stray web around Mozart while he was there in 1789--90. She sang in his "Entfuhrung," and it was said that his friends had to help him out of his entanglement with her. But Jahn scouts the idea.

Among the most dramatic, and therefore the most familiar incidents of Mozart's life, is the strange story of the anonymous commission he received to write a Requiem Ma.s.s. We are sure now that it was Count Walsegg who wished to palm off the composition as one of his own. To Mozart, however, there was something uncanny in the whole matter, and he could not work off the suspicious dread that the death-music he was writing was an omen of his own end. Shortly before his father had died, Mozart had written him a letter begging him to be reconciled to death when it should come, and speaking of death as "this good and faithful friend of man," and adding: "I never lie down at night without thinking, young as I am, that I may be no more before the morning dawns."

Constanze, having been away for the cure at Baden, returned to find him suddenly declining in health. To divert him, she took him for a drive, but he could talk only of his death and of his morbid conviction that he had been poisoned. Constanze, greatly alarmed, called in the family physician, Doctor Closset. He blamed Mozart's state to overwork and overabsorption in the composition of the Requiem Ma.s.s, which he toiled at and brooded over until he swooned away in his chair.

After a brief recovery of spirits, he sank rapidly again and could not leave his bed. Constanze attended him devoutly, and her younger sister, Sophie, and her mother, now much endeared to Mozart, were very solicitous and attentive. It is Sophie who described in a letter the last hours of this genius, who died at the age of thirty-five. Mozart, even in his ultimate agonies, was most solicitous for his wife, and said to Sophie that she must spend the night at the house and see him die.