Composers -- Austria -- Biography; Mozart, Wolfgang Amadeus, 1756-1791
When only five years of age he wrote some music in his _Uebungsbuch_ or
Exercise-book, which is yet to be seen in the Mozarteum[2] in Salzburg;
also some little minuets; and, on one occasion, his father and the
friend of the family mentioned above, surprised him engaged on the
composition of a concerto so difficult that no one in the world could
have played it. His ear was so acute, and his memory for music so good
from the time he was a child, that once when playing his little violin,
he remembered that the _Buttergeige_, the “butter-violin,” so-called
from the extreme smoothness of its tones, was tuned one-eighth of a
tone lower than his own. On account of this great acuteness of hearing,
he could not, at that age, bear the sound of the trumpet; and when
notwithstanding his father once put his endurance of it to the test, he
was taken with violent spasms.
His readiness and skill in music soon became so great that he was able
to play almost everything at sight. His little sister also had made
very extraordinary progress in music at a very early age, and the
father in 1762, when the children were respectively six and ten years
of age, began to travel with them, to show, as he said, these “wonders
of God” to the world.
The first place they went to was Munich, then as now the real capital
of Southern Germany, and after that to Vienna. Maria Theresa and her
consort were very fond of music. They received the children with
genuine German cordiality, and little Wolfgang without any more ado,
leaped into the lap of the Empress and kissed her; just as he had told
the unfortunate Marie Antoinette, who had helped him from the slippery
floor: “You are good and I’ll marry you.” The youngest son of Maria
Theresa, the handsome and amiable grand-duke, Maximilian, was of the
same age as young Mozart, and always remained his friend, as he was,
subsequently, the patron of Beethoven. The picture of Mozart and his
little sister dressed in the clothes of the imperial children hangs on
the walls of the Mozarteum; his animated eyes and her budding beauty
have an incomparable charm.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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