Wolfgang Amadeus Mozart was born at Salzburg on January 27, 1756.
His full name, as given in the church register, was "Joannes
Chrysostomus Wolfgangus Theophilus"; his father used the German
equivalent "Gottlieb" of this last name, and the composer himself
subsequently adopted the Latinized form "Amadeus."
His family had long been settled
in Augsburg, where Wolfgang's father, Leopold Mozart, was born on
November 14, 1719. With the object of studying jurisprudence,
Leopold entered the university of Salzburg, supporting himself by
teaching music and playing the violin. He was a musician of
considerable attainments, and in 1743 the Archbishop of Salzburg
took him into his service, later appointing him Court composer and
leader of the orchestra. He was a voluminous composer, but his
works show little inventive power. His fame as a musician rests
chiefly on his "School for the Violin," printed in 1756—the year of
Wolfgang's birth. This work, from which Otto Jahn in his great
monograph on Mozart gives several extracts, was for many years the
only work published in Germany on the subject, and was held in
great esteem not only for the thoroughness of its instructions, but
for the excellence of its style.
In 1747 Leopold Mozart married
Anna Maria Pertlin (or Bertlin), by whom he had seven children,
only two of whom survived infancy. The elder of these two was a
daughter, Maria Anna, born July 30, 1751; the younger was the
subject of the present volume.
Like her illustrious brother,
Maria Anna (generally spoken of in the family by the pet name of
"Nannerl") very early showed great aptitude for music. At the age
of seven her father began to give her lessons on the clavier, on
which she made remarkable progress. It was during these lessons
that Wolfgang's wonderful musical genius first showed itself.
Though the child was then only between three and four years of age,
he took the greatest interest in what his sister was doing, and
would amuse himself with picking out thirds on the clavier. When he
was four his father, more in joke than otherwise, began to teach
him little pieces, which he learned with astonishing ease. For a
short piece he required only half an hour, for longer pieces an
hour, after which he could play them with perfect correctness. What
is even more astonishing is that before he was five years of age he
began to compose and play little pieces which his father wrote
down. Some of these juvenile efforts have been preserved, and show
that while the young musician had not at that time acquired any
individuality of style, he had an instinctive feeling for clearness
of form, while his harmony shows a correctness which is absolutely
amazing in so young a child.
J. A. Schachtner, Court trumpeter
at Salzburg, an intimate friend of the family, has preserved some
reminiscences of the child's early years in a letter which he wrote
to the composer's sister soon after Mozart's death. In this letter
Schachtner relates how, on returning from church one day with
Leopold Mozart, they found little Wolfgang, then four years old,
hard at work writing:
"Papa. What are you
writing?
"Wolfgang. A piano concerto; the
first part is nearly finished.
"Papa. Let me see it.
"Wolfgang. It is not ready
yet.
"Papa. Let me see it; it must be
something pretty.
"His father took it, and showed
me a daub of notes, mostly written over blots that had been wiped
out. (N.B.—Little Wolfgang in his ignorance had dipped his pen
every time to the bottom of the inkstand, and so made a blot each
time he put it on the paper; this he wiped out with his flat hand,
and went on writing.) We laughed at first over this apparent
nonsense; but the papa then began to notice the principal thing,
the composition. He remained motionless for a long while, looking
at the page; at last two tears—tears of admiration and joy—fell
from his eyes. 'Look, Herr Schachtner,' said he, 'how correctly and
regularly it is all arranged, only it cannot be used because it is
so extraordinarily difficult that nobody can play it.' Little
Wolfgang broke in: 'That is why it is a concerto; it must be
practised till one gets it right. Look, this is how it must go!' He
played it, but could only just make enough out of it to show us
what he meant.'
