Ten Boys from History Part 16

The pirates were finally driven from the seas, their boats burned or captured, and their camps entirely destroyed, and Farragut's first and most exciting cruise as a youthful commander came to an end. The honours which were his at a later day were such as come to the man of years of training and experience, but from the day when the little midshipman stood on the deck of the _Ess.e.x_ beside Captain Porter as she sailed down the Delaware river, to the time when he stood in the proud glory of his t.i.tle, the first admiral of America, his is the story of a man who won his fame by a never varying attention to detail, a never ending effort for self-improvement, and a never relaxed adherence to duty.

All honour to Midshipman Farragut--the Admiral-to-be!

MOZART:

The Boy Musician

Johannes Chrysostemus Wolfgangus Theophilus Mozart--what a burden to be put upon a baby's tiny shoulders!

If there is any truth underlying the belief that a name can in some measure foreshadow a child's future, then surely Wolfgang Mozart, who was born in Salzburg in 1756, came honestly by his heritage of greatness, for when he was only a day old he received the five-part name, to which was later added his confirmation name of Sigismundus.

But as soon as he could choose for himself, the little son of Marianne and Leopold Mozart from his store of names, selected Wolfgang, to which he added Amadeus, by which combination he was always known, and the name is for ever linked with the memory of a great genius.

Almost before he could talk plainly the little fellow showed himself to be a musical prodigy, and when he was scarcely three years old he would steal into the room where his father was giving a lesson on the harpsichord to Anna (or "Nannerl," as she was called), the sister five years older than himself, and while she was being taught, Wolfgang would listen and watch with breathless attention.

One day when the lesson was over, he begged his father to teach him too, but Leopold Mozart only laughed as he answered, glancing down into the child's serious face looking so intently into his:

"Wait, my little man, thou art but a baby yet. Wait awhile, my Wolferl!"

and the disappointed little musician crept away, but as soon as Nannerl and his father had left the room, the tiny fellow crept back again, went to the harpsichord and standing on tiptoe, touched the keys with his chubby fingers stretched wide apart until he reached and played _a perfect chord_! Leopold Mozart was in another part of the house, but his sensitive ear caught the sound, and he rushed back to find his baby on tiptoe before the harpsichord, giving the first hint of his marvellous ability.

At once the proud and excited father began to give him lessons, and always, too, from that day, whenever Nannerl had her lesson, Wolfgang perched on his father's knee, and listened with rapt absorption, and often when the lesson was over, he would repeat what she had played in exact imitation of her manner of playing.

Leopold Mozart, who was himself a talented musician, saw with pride almost beyond expression, that both of his children inherited his musical ability, and soon felt that Wolfgang was a genius. When the boy was only four, his father, to test his powers, tried to teach him some minuets which to his perfect astonishment, Wolfgang played after him in a most extraordinary manner, not merely striking the notes correctly, but marking the rhythm with accurate expression, and to learn and play each minuet the little fellow required only half an hour.

When he was five years old, one day his father entered the sitting-room of their home and found Wolfgang bending over a table, writing so busily that he did not hear his father enter, or see that he was standing beside him. Wolfgang's chubby little hand held the pen awkwardly, but held it with firm determination while it travelled back and forth across a large sheet of paper on which he was scribbling a strange collection of hieroglyphics, with here and there a huge blot, testifying to his haste and inexperience in the use of ink.

What was he trying to do? His father's curiosity finally overcame him and he asked:

"What are you doing, Wolfgang?" The curly head was raised with an impatient gesture.

"I am composing a concerto for the harpsichord. I have nearly finished the first part."

"Let me see it."

"No, please, I have not yet finished."

But even as he spoke, the eager father had taken up the paper and carried it over to where a friend stood, and they looked it over together, exchanging amused glances at the queer characters on it.

Presently Leopold Mozart, after looking carefully at it, said:

"Why it really seems to be composed by rule! But it is so difficult that no one could ever play it."

"Oh, yes, they could, but it must be studied first," exclaimed little Wolfgang eagerly, and running to the harpsichord, he added:

"See, this is the way it begins," and he was able to play enough of it, to show what his idea in writing it had been, and his father and the friend who had before exchanged glances of amus.e.m.e.nt, now looked at each other with wonder not untouched with awe.

In the Mozart collection at Salzburg, there is still preserved a music book in which those early pieces written by little Wolfgang were written down by his father, and also the minuets he learned, and in the book his father wrote after them:

"The preceding minuets were learnt by Wolfgang in his fourth year," and further on we find the record:

"This minuet and trio Wolfgang learned in half an hour on the 26th day of January, 1761, the day before his fifth birthday, at half-past nine at night."

In his first composition the sense of perfect form is felt to a remarkable degree, and the little book in which it was written down, not only accompanied the family on their travels, but in it Wolfgang also wrote down his first sonatas, published in 1763.

When he was not much over five years old, Wolfgang was chosen to take the part of chorister in a Latin comedy which was given at the close of the school year of the Salzburg Gymnasium, and among the one hundred and fifty young people who took part in the entertainment one can picture the charming little musical fellow as the great feature of the occasion, and many stories were told at that time of his marvellous sense of sound, and the ease with which he overcame every technical difficulty. Meanwhile he learned to play on the violin, and could tell, it is said, when one violin was an eighth of a tone lower than another.

Even games, to be interesting to him, had to be accompanied by music, and a family friend in writing of him says: "If he and I carried playthings from one room to another, the one who went empty-handed must sing, and play a march on the violin as he walked."

On an evening when a number of violinists were gathered in the Mozart home to play together, Wolfgang, who had recently been learning to play the violin, begged to play with them. His father refused to let him, and told him to run away, but the second violinist called him back, saying:

"Never mind, little man; wipe away those tears and stand by me." So close beside him stood the little chap, and presently all were surprised to hear a clear, clean-cut tone coming from the child's violin. His touch was so exquisite, his interpretation so masterly, that presently the second violinist laid down his instrument and listened breathlessly, while Wolfgang played on and on, forgetful of everything but the magic spell of the music, and as his father listened, his heart throbbed with pride and joy, and tears rolled down his face, as he exclaimed:

"Little music-king thou art, my Wolferl, and thou shalt reign over us all!"

From that moment it was plain that Wolfgang Mozart was a musical prodigy, and as little Nannerl, too, had great talent, the proud father now determined to show them to a world which was ever eager to applaud such genius, and in 1762 he made his first experiment of taking the children on a concert tour. This was so successful that before Wolfgang was eight years old and Nannerl twelve, they had appeared at the Courts of Vienna, Paris, Munich and London, and everywhere Wolfgang made friends with rich and poor alike, his personality was so full of charm and simple dignity.

Once, during their travels, being detained by a heavy shower at Ypps, they took refuge in a monastery. The monks were at supper and did not know of the arrival of any stranger, until suddenly from the chapel came wonderful music, music grave and gay, sad, sweet, thrilling, and marvellous in its appeal to hearts and souls. The Fathers were frightened, not knowing who could have entered their sanctuary, thinking it must be a spirit, when at last a light was brought, and creeping into the chapel, they discovered little Wolfgang at the organ, not a vision, but just a mortal boy. The Fathers were overcome with amazement and lavished all possible courtesies on the wonderful little musician and his family while they remained.

On entering Vienna, at the Custom House, Wolfgang, after a brief chat with the official there, took out his violin, and played to the official, who was so delighted with the boy and his music, that the family had no trouble with examination of their luggage, as they would otherwise have had.

The Imperial family of Vienna were all very fond of music, and had also had their curiosity greatly excited in regard to this child prodigy, so it was not strange that only a few days after the Mozarts arrived, Leopold should have received a command to bring his children to play at Schoenbrum, an imperial palace near Vienna, and this without any effort on Mozart's part to get the invitation.

The Emperor was delighted with the little "sorcerer" as he called Wolfgang, and besides listening to his real playing with deepest interest, he made him play with one finger, in which the little fellow was perfectly successful. Then he asked him to play with the keys covered by a piece of cloth, which he did instantly, and these musical tricks suggested by the Emperor's fancy, thereafter formed a far from unimportant part of Wolfgang's repertoire on his long concert tours, and always interested his audiences. The boy had a keen sense of humour, and always entered heartily into any joke that was made with him, but sometimes he could be very serious, as for instance, when he was called to play for the court composer, George Wagenseil, who was himself a proficient performer on the harpsichord. The Emperor stepped back when Wagenseil came forward, and Mozart said very seriously to him:

"I play a concerto by you, you must turn over the pages for me," and turn the pages the great man did.

The Emperor ordered one hundred ducats to be paid to Wolfgang's father for the performance, and the Empress, both then and later, was kindness itself to both the children, and sent them expensive and beautiful clothes. In writing to a friend at that time, Leopold Mozart said:

"Would you like to know what Wolferl's dress is like? It is the finest cloth, lilac-coloured, the best of moire of the same colour. Coat and top-coat with a double broad border of gold."

In the portrait which is in the Mozart collection in Salzburg, Mozart is painted in this dress, and he wore it with as much ease as if he had always been used to such finery. Also he never showed any embarra.s.sment or self-consciousness when in the presence of royalty, and once jumped on the lap of the Empress, Maria Theresa, put his arms around her neck and kissed her as effusively as if she had been his mother, while he treated the princesses as if they were his sisters. Marie Antoinette was one of his great favourites after she helped him up from a severe fall on a highly polished floor. To her great amus.e.m.e.nt he thanked her by saying:

"You are good. I will marry you," and when the Crown Prince Joseph, who afterwards became Emperor, played the violin before the little prodigy, he exclaimed: "Fie!" at something he did not like, then, "that was false!" at another bar, and finally applauded, with cries of "Bravo!"

Little Nannerl who played only less well than her remarkable brother, was a charmingly pretty, piquant little girl, whose manner, both in society and in the concert hall, was winning and demure, while Wolfgang's grace and elegance of manner were striking. Wherever the children went, people went mad over them. They were the fashion, the furore, no musical entertainment was a success without them, and they were so petted that they might easily have been spoiled, had it not been for their father's wise and watchful care. But with true German caution, the father guarded them from bad effects of over-excitement or indulgence. All sorts of presents were constantly given them, among which were many jewels and beautiful articles of clothing, but the clothes were only used on concert nights or special occasions, the jewellery was kept locked up in a box, and the children were only allowed to see or handle it when they had been especially good.

When Paris was the headquarters of the travellers, all possible honour was given them, and the concerts in the French capital brought the Mozarts a substantial sum and they were received very kindly in a visit to the Court of Versailles; of which visit little Nannerl said later, that her only recollection was of the Marquise de Pompadour standing Wolfgang on a table, that he wanted to kiss her, and when she drew back, he said indignantly:

"Who is she that she will not let me kiss her? The Empress kissed me."

The King's daughters were very kind to the children, and on New Year's Day, 1764, the Mozart family dined with the royal family. Wolfgang sat next to the Queen, who talked to him in German, translating the conversation to Louis Fifteenth, while near Wolfgang sat his father and his mother, and Nannerl sat on the opposite side of the table by the Dauphin.

After playing at Versailles the little musicians became the fashion in Paris, and every circle was open to them, while Wolfgang's reputation as a musical genius was steadily growing, and he had already composed two sonatas which were really good pieces of work from an artistic point of view.

Leaving Paris at last, the Mozarts arrived in London, and after taking lodgings, they hastened to adopt English customs.

"How do you suppose," wrote Leopold Mozart, to a friend, "my wife and girl look in English hats, and the great Wolfgang in English clothes?"