A. Borckmann
WOLFGANG AND MARIAN BEFORE THE EMPRESS
Wolfgang was not at all spoiled by the praise he received. He did not think of the empress as a sovereign. To him she was only a kind, loving friend. Sometimes he would spring into her lap, throwing his arms about her neck, and kissing her.
The empress had a little daughter called Marie Antoinette, who afterwards became queen of France. One day, at the palace, Wolfgang was playing with her. He slipped on the polished floor and fell. Marie Antoinette helped him to his feet. "You are kind and I will marry you," he said.
Before the Mozart children returned to Salzburg, the empress sent them each a present. To Marian she gave a beautiful white silk dress. Wolfgang's gift was a lilac-colored suit, trimmed with bands of gold braid.
Wolfgang often wore this suit when he played in concerts. With his powdered curls, bright knee buckles, and little sword, what a picture he must have made!
Up to his sixth birthday, Wolfgang had played only the piano. On his return from Vienna he brought with him a small violin which had been given him there. He often amused himself with it.
Louis-Ernest Barrias
MOZART AS A CHILD
A short time afterwards, two friends came to visit the Mozart family. Both were violinists. Leopold Mozart and his friends were going to play some new music together. One of the guests was to play the first violin and the other the second violin. Leopold Mozart played the bass viol.
Now you must know that the second violin is the easier part. Wolfgang asked if he might play that part. His father said, "No, my son, you have never received any violin lessons. You could not possibly play it well. Run away now."
Wolfgang was so hurt at these words that he began to cry bitterly. As he was going away with his little violin under his arm, one of the guests said, "Let the child stay and play the second part with me." At last the father consented. "You may play with us," he said, "if you play very softly and do not let yourself be heard."
The music was begun, Wolfgang playing the second part. Soon the violinist who was playing the same part saw that he was not needed. Without saying anything, he laid down his violin. The father, too, noticed how well the child played and shed tears of joy at the sight.
The picture gives you an idea of the bronze statue of Mozart, made in 1883 by the artist, Barrias. The original is in Paris; but an excellent copy stands in the Art Institute of Chicago.
After visiting Vienna the Mozart family spent some months quietly at home. This time was well used by the children. Never a day went by that they did not devote many hours to their studies. Their progress was amazing. In fact they improved so much that their father concluded to take them on another tour.
This time they were to go to Paris. The summer after Wolfgang's seventh birthday, Leopold Mozart set out with his children. They stopped at so many towns and cities that it took them five months to complete the journey to Paris.
They decided to give a concert in Frankfurt, one of the German towns that they visited. At that time Goethe was a lad of fourteen. He attended the concert and never forgot little Wolfgang Mozart. Years afterward the poet wrote, "In imagination I can still see the little man in his wig and sword."
The first Paris concert was a great success. The people applauded again and again. When the children came upon the stage, the men clapped their hands, and the ladies waved their handkerchiefs. In writing about this very concert to a friend, Leopold Mozart said, "We burned more than sixty candles."
At New Year's the Mozart children were presented at the French court, where they were kindly received by the king and queen. The queen had Wolfgang placed beside her and talked with him in German. He had the honor of playing the great organ in the king's chapel. Those who heard him play both the piano and the organ could not decide which he played the better.
The children of a royal family are not often allowed to play with children of lower rank. The king's daughters admired Wolfgang and Marian Mozart very much. The princesses and the little musicians had many romps together in the palace.
From the French capital the Mozarts went to London. On their journey the children saw the sea for the first time. They liked to watch the great waves break against the cliffs. They clapped their hands with delight when the spray dashed over the rocks on the shore. They liked to run down upon the beach to meet the incoming waves. "See, brother," exclaimed Marian, "how the sea runs away and grows again."
Carl Herpfer
MOZART AT THE ORGAN
The young musicians gave many concerts in London. The English people were even better pleased with their playing than the French had been. They were invited to Buckingham Palace, where Wolfgang amazed his hearers by playing difficult music at sight.
King George was very fond of music and Handel was his favorite composer. He was surprised that this little fellow could play much of Handel's music. One day, at the palace, Wolfgang played while Queen Charlotte sang. He was very proud to be chosen to play for the queen.
The queen's music master was a son of the great Sebastian Bach. He took quite a fancy to little Wolfgang. They became good friends and often played together. One day Bach took his little friend on his knee and they played a sonata together. First Bach would play a few measures; then Wolfgang would play three or four. They continued in this manner until they had played the whole sonata. Those who did not see them could not have told that the sonata had been played by two persons.
In London, Wolfgang Mozart had his first singing lessons. They were as easy for him as his piano lessons had been. While in that great city he wrote six sonatas. He sent them to Queen Charlotte, with a little letter.
At the end of fifteen months Leopold Mozart and his children left England. They had been invited by the Princess Caroline to visit Holland. So once again they crossed the rough English Channel. They spent several happy months among the Dutch people. The good Princess Caroline was very kind to them. Wolfgang composed several pieces of music for her.
In November, 1765, the child musicians returned from their long journey. They had been traveling for three years. They had been petted and honored at all the great courts of Europe. They had received many beautiful presents, yet they were glad to be in Salzburg once again.
After much serious study at home, Mozart went to Italy. His father thought that it would benefit him to visit that country. Musicians and artists from all over Europe went there to study. The finest musicians played in the large cathedrals. No better music could be heard in the world than in that country. It was worth a journey of many miles to hear one of the organs, when played by a master.
Leopold Mozart wished his son to hear this music and to become acquainted with the great Italian musicians. He hoped that he could talk with the composers. He told him to visit the art galleries and study the paintings. All this Wolfgang did and more, too.
He spent much time in the art galleries. He listened to much beautiful music and became acquainted with musicians and composers. Besides all this, he practiced regularly, and he studied French. He spent several hours each day composing.
In a letter to his mother, Wolfgang wrote: "To-day I had the pleasure of riding on a donkey. Every one in Italy rides a donkey, and I thought I must try it too." In the same letter he asked: "Does my little canary still sing in the key of G? Is there any one to pet my dog, now that I am so far away? Take good care of him."
Wolfgang and his father visited many Italian cities. There were no railroads in those days, so the father and son journeyed from place to place in a carriage. That is a slow and very tiresome way to travel, and Wolfgang sometimes became weary and impatient. Then he would jump from the carriage and race with the horses.
Often they stopped at some quaint old inn for lunch. The meal was occasionally served out of doors. How good the honey and fresh milk tasted after the long dusty ride! How sweet were the figs and how juicy the melons!
After visiting Florence, Verona, and other cities, Leopold Mozart and his son arrived in Rome. It was the week before Easter. Wolfgang liked to attend the services held each day in the magnificent cathedrals. He liked to watch the priests moving softly about the altar. He liked the faint odor of the incense and the glimmer of the candles.
When the great organ pealed forth, he forgot all these things. He forgot even his father, seated at his side. He had never heard such music before. It seemed to him like music from heaven.
In some of the churches there was singing as well as organ music. One day, while in Rome, Wolfgang visited the Sistine Chapel. He heard some singing that he never forgot. A choir of about thirty voices sang a very beautiful, yet very mournful, piece of music.
When the music began, all the candles were burning brightly. As the singing went on, the candles were extinguished one by one. The chapel became more and more dim. The choir sang softly and still more softly. At last not one candle was left burning. No sound could be heard but the sad, sad music and the sobs of the people.
Throughout the whole service, the child Mozart sat with clasped hands and bended head. When the music died away, he arose and walked home in silence. He went to his own room and wrote from memory the music which he had heard.
It is a rule of the Sistine Chapel that only the members of the choir shall have copies of this music. Many others had asked permission to copy it. They had always been refused. Many had tried to write it from memory; but they had always failed. So it was a wonderful thing that this youth had written the difficult music from memory. When Wolfgang showed the music to his friends, they could not believe that he had written it correctly.
"Let us have a concert," they said. "Let the lad sing the chapel music for us. We shall hear whether or not he has remembered it correctly." The concert was held. Young Mozart sang the music from his own copy. It was perfect from beginning to end.
While Wolfgang was in Rome, the Pope bestowed a great honor upon him. He made him a Knight of the Golden Spur. That was one of the greatest honors that he could have received in Italy. Wolfgang was very proud to wear the beautiful golden cross.
From Rome, the Mozarts went to Naples. There Wolfgang gave a concert before a large audience. When he was in the middle of a sonata, the people became uneasy. They whispered to one another; they pointed to the hands of the young musician; they became more and more excited.
Young Mozart wondered at the noise, yet he went on with the sonata. At last his father learned the cause of the disturbance and explained it to his son. He told him that the people believed there was a charm in the diamond ring which he wore upon his left hand. "If the ring is not a charm," they said, "how can he play so rapidly with the left hand?"
When Wolfgang heard this, he laughed merrily and took the ring from his finger. When he began to play again, the audience thought the music was even more wonderful than before.
In 1771 Mozart made a second trip to Italy, and wrote the music for a royal wedding. The empress was so pleased that she presented him with a gold watch set with diamonds. On one side of the watch was a beautiful portrait of the empress. Can you not imagine how proud he was to be the owner of such a treasure? Do you not fancy that he always kept it?
WOLFGANG AMADEUS MOZART
Mozart's boyhood and youth had been filled with sunshine. At many of the courts of Europe he had been praised and petted. Kings and queens were proud to be numbered among his friends. The remainder of his life was not so bright, and he learned how sad a thing it is to be without a home and friends.
When Mozart was twenty-one years of age, he set out for Paris, accompanied by his mother. They traveled in a carriage, as Wolfgang and his father had done in Italy. On their way to the French capital they made several stops. Mozart gave a concert in each of the towns in which they stopped.
The people of Paris had been so kind to Mozart when he had visited it long ago, that he expected the same treatment again. In that he was disappointed. He was now a man and they treated him as a man.
Mozart was looking for some work as a musician and composer, but found none. That made him sad. It troubled him, too, that the Parisians were no longer eager to hear his music; but a still greater sorrow came to him. His dear mother died in Paris, and Mozart returned to Salzburg alone.
During the next few years, Mozart spent much time in composing. Among his compositions were several operas. An opera is much like a play, except that all the parts are sung instead of spoken. When a composer wishes to write an opera, he generally selects some beautiful story or poem. He then writes music that will help to tell the story.
In an opera some parts are sung by many voices; others are sung as solos. The composer must arrange parts of music for women's voices. Some, too, must be suited to the voices of men. Still other music must be written for the orchestra. All this requires a musician of great talent.
In August, 1782, Mozart married and settled in Vienna. His wife was the daughter of a musician. Mozart and his wife were always poor; yet they were very happy.
Once upon a time Mozart was invited to write an opera for a festival. By and by the work was all finished except one part for the orchestra. The singers had learned their parts and all was ready but the one piece of music. When it lacked only one day of the time when the opera was to be given, Mozart had not completed his work.
The day passed by, but nothing had been done. Evening came, and Mozart had a merry time with his friends. He knew that the music must be written that night; so he asked his wife to sit up with him while he wrote it.
When he grew sleepy, she told him fairy stories. She made the stories of Cinderella and Aladdin's Lamp so funny that Mozart laughed till the tears rolled down his cheeks. In spite of the tales he grew so sleepy that he felt obliged to lie down. His wife promised to call him after he had slept an hour.
The hour passed and Mozart was sleeping soundly. Another hour and still he did not waken. At last, when his wife called him, he arose and began his work. In two hours he had written a beautiful composition for the orchestra.
Mozart was fond of playing at night and often played for hours at a time. If he sat down to the piano at nine o'clock in the evening, he seldom left it before midnight.
In 1785 Mozart's father visited Vienna. He attended a concert given by his son. He was pleased to see that the emperor was there. Leopold Mozart watched him to see how he was enjoying the music. At the end of the concert the emperor rose and, waving his hat, cried, "Bravo, Mozart!" The father was delighted that his son had won the emperor's praise.
While in Vienna, Mozart's father talked with the great musician Haydn, who said, "I declare to you before God and as an honest man that I regard your son as the greatest composer I have ever heard."
This was high praise from so great a man as Haydn. It was a fine compliment, too, to have the emperor shout "Bravo"; yet Mozart was poor and often sad. He worked hard and composed much beautiful music. Sometimes he received no pay for his work; sometimes he was cheated out of money that he had honestly earned.
Once the king asked Mozart to write music for a court concert. He put it off until he had no time to write the part which he was to perform himself. So he went to the concert with his part unwritten. He placed a sheet of paper on the piano, and looked at it as if the notes were written there.
The king, who was peeping everywhere, happened to look at the sheet of paper. Surprised to see nothing but empty lines, he said to Mozart, "Where is your part?" "Here," replied the musician, tapping his forehead.
Mozart is best known as a writer of operas. Most of his operas were composed in Vienna. One of them is called The Marriage of Figaro. Another is named The Magic Flute. Many people like it the best of any opera that Mozart ever wrote. It was composed a short time before his death.
Mozart was ill before The Magic Flute was finished. After it had been completed, he grew much worse. His only pleasure, during his suffering, was to hear the news of how well the people liked his opera.
Only the day before his death, he wished that he might hear the music of The Magic Flute once again. A friend who was with him at the time went to the piano, and played and sang some parts of it. This seemed to cheer the sick man greatly.
On the 5th of December, 1791, the master passed away. No stone marked Mozart's grave, and to-day no one knows where the great composer was laid to rest. More than a century after his death, the people of his own city erected a fine monument in his memory.
When Haydn heard of Mozart's death, his eyes filled with tears. He exclaimed, "Oh, my friends, will the world ever find such an artist again?" Years afterward, when some one spoke of Mozart, Haydn wept bitterly. "Pardon me," said he, "but I can never hear the name of my gentle Mozart without breaking my heart."
Once upon a time there lived, in a tiny village in Austria, a wheelwright and his family. The wheelwright was poor, industrious, and God-fearing. He lived in a cottage which seemed almost too small for the large family of children. But they were so happy together that they did not mind a little crowding.
The second of the Haydn children was a boy, whom the good old village priest had christened Francis Joseph. He lived a merry life, romping with his brothers and sisters. They liked to play about the door of the shop where their father was making wheels and carriages.
FRANCIS JOSEPH HAYDN
Better than this, they liked the Sundays, when the good father was at home all day. After dinner they were sure to have some music, and Joseph looked forward eagerly to this time. The father had a good voice, and well did he sing the native songs of his country. Although he sang well, he did not know one note of music from another.
The wheelwright's wife played the harp while her husband sang. Little Joseph used to bring his stool close beside his mother to listen as she played. Sometimes he kept the time by clapping with his chubby little hands. Sometimes he joined his sweet childish voice with his father's.
When Joseph Haydn was still very small, he was sent toddling off to school. When lessons were over and all the rest of the children scampered to their play, Joseph lingered in the schoolroom. His eyes grew round with wonder as the master played upon his violin.
"That is easy," thought the boy; "I will find two smooth pieces of wood and make myself a violin." And he did. At the next Sunday afternoon concert Joseph took his place as usual on his little stool; but he carried the violin, which he had made, in his hands. At the first notes from the harp he began to move one piece of wood across the other in perfect time with the music.
Before Joseph was quite six years old, he was able to stand up in the choir of the old village church and lead the singing. His voice was not strong, but it was true and sweet.
The father was proud of his son. He said to himself: "The boy must be taught music. Perhaps some day he will become a great musician. If I were not so poor, I should send him to a teacher."
By and by a visitor came to the Haydn home. This man was a musician and the wheelwright's cousin. It was not long before he noticed Joseph's talent for music. "Let the lad come home with me," he said to Joseph's father, "and he shall sing in my choir and be taught music properly."
The father gladly gave his consent. When the mother was asked, she was at first unwilling. "He is still so young," she said, "I fear that he will not be well cared for. I have always taught him to be neat and clean. Away from home he might fall into bad habits. I can not let him go!"
The father and cousin begged her to change her mind, telling her that the boy would learn much about music. They promised that he should be well cared for. At last she consented and with tears in her eyes made Joseph ready for his journey.
Joseph himself, six years old, was not at all sad at parting. He was very glad to go with his cousin to the great town. He said good-by to the schoolmaster and his playmates. He went once more to the little village church and knelt before the good old priest for a blessing. Last of all he said good-by to his mother. The good woman kissed her son tenderly and bade him be obedient and faithful in his studies.
For three years the boy lived with his cousin. On Sundays and feast days he sang in the choir of the church. On week days he worked hard at his music and other studies.
The week before Easter the choir sang each day at the church. On one day there was a procession of choir boys chanting hymns. A band played while the boys sang. The drummer could not march in the procession that day, and Joseph was asked to take his place. Joseph listened carefully as his cousin taught him how the drumsticks should be handled.
Having no drum to use, he stretched a cloth over the top of a meal tub and used that for a drum. On this he practiced until he could beat the time perfectly. When he had finished he was covered with meal dust, but he felt sure that he should make no mistake in the procession. And no mistake did he make.
When Joseph had been with his cousin about a year, a visitor from Vienna took dinner with the choir master. The two men had finished their meal and were chatting together. Said the choir master, "But you should hear my Joseph sing. I brought him from the country and he is now one of my choir boys. One afternoon in his father's house I heard him singing and keeping perfect time with two pieces of wood."
"Let me hear the lad," said his friend. Quickly was the boy called from the kitchen. He came into the room and stood, shy and trembling, before the two men. When his cousin asked him to sing, Joseph forgot his fear. Back went the little head, out came the notes, clear and true as the song of a bird.
When the song was finished, the visitor called Joseph to his side. "Can you trill for me, my boy?" "No, sir; I have never been taught; but I can try." Taking the child on his knee, the stranger showed him how to trill. Then Joseph tried and did well. His new friend was so delighted with his little pupil that he filled his hands and pockets with bright red cherries.
Now you must know that the stranger was none other than the chapel master of a great church in Vienna. He said to Joseph's cousin, "That boy sang so sweetly and learned to trill so easily that I want him in my choir." It was soon settled that the boy should go to Vienna. In a short time he became a member of the choir in St. Stephen's Church in that city.
The boy was eager to learn all that he could about music. If he heard the great organ when he was at his games with the other boys, he would leave them at once. He would tiptoe into the dimly lighted church. Seating himself in one corner, he would not stir until the last echo of music had died away.
During all the years that Joseph Haydn was a choir boy in Vienna, he had very little money to spend. He saved every penny that came into his hands. When he was thirteen, he bought two books that he might know more of music. He spent every spare moment in study.
He learned much about music, but was never taught to compose. This did not prevent him from trying. Joseph knew that he must study harder than he had ever done.
When Joseph Haydn was about sixteen years old, his voice changed. Because it became harsh and deep, the chapel master no longer wanted him in the choir.
One cold winter night he left St. Stephen's Church and wandered through the streets of Vienna, hungry and without a home. What would have happened to the poor boy had he not met a friend, we do not know. The kind friend was a barber, who said, "Our rooms are small and our food is simple, but you are welcome to both."
The lonely boy gladly accepted the invitation of the barber and went with him to his humble home. The room in the attic was indeed small and poorly furnished. The wind and the rain came through the cracks, and the snow sometimes sifted down upon his bed. Yet he was not altogether unhappy there.
He soon found work and was able to pay the barber for his room. Sometimes he played the violin at a ball. He liked that because he was always given a good warm supper afterward. Again he earned a trifle by giving music lessons.
Haydn and some other young men often wandered through the streets playing. They were fond of going out on moonlight nights to serenade some musician. Haydn often composed the music which the band played.
One night they went to serenade the leader of the opera. They stood under his window with their violins. Soon the moonlit garden was filled with the sweetest music.
At a pause in the music a window was flung open and out came a nightcapped head. Loudly spoke a voice, saying, "Who is playing there?"
"Who wrote the music?"
"I did, sir."
The old gentleman came down, saying, "Come with me." He led the way to a large room where a fine piano stood. He explained to young Haydn that he wanted him to compose the music for an opera which he had written. Haydn agreed to do the work, for which he was to receive a hundred and thirty pieces of money.
After this, Haydn was no longer poor. He rented a better room, but he never forgot the barber's kindness. Some years later he married the barber's daughter, Anne.
Haydn was fond of a joke. One time, as he and a friend were walking together, they passed an inn. The sound of music came from within. "Did you not write that music, Haydn?" said his friend. "Yes," answered the composer. "Let us enter and have some fun with the players."
Once inside the inn, Haydn demanded, "Who wrote that music which you are playing?"
"Joseph Haydn," was the reply.
"Well, it is not fit to be heard," said Haydn.
That made the musicians angry. They became still more angry when they saw how the two strangers were laughing. The players could not see the joke, until, as the two friends left the rooms, one of them said, "You need not mind, for I am Joseph Haydn, myself."
In olden times a prince often kept an orchestra in his own palace. It was necessary to have a leader for the orchestra. The leader, who trained the musicians and wrote music for them to play, was called the chapel master. In 1761 Joseph Haydn was given a fine position. He became chapel master in the household of a noble prince.
This prince lived in a magnificent palace. His friends were the kings and queens of Europe. When these royal visitors came to the palace, he entertained them with concerts and operas.
To furnish such music, the prince needed a large orchestra, and singers as well. He paid his musicians large sums of money, and treated them with great care. He required them to dress in white stockings and powdered wigs.
It was a part of Haydn's work to train all the musicians in the palace and to compose music for them. He was also expected to have a new piece of music ready for the prince each morning. The prince was a musician himself, and Haydn worked hard to please him.
For almost thirty years, Joseph Haydn lived in the palace of the prince. During that time he wrote hundreds of pieces of music. He is best known for his symphonies and quartets. Every line that he wrote was bright and cheerful and full of sweet melody. His fame spread throughout Europe. Visitors who came to the palace went home and spoke of the beautiful music that Joseph Haydn composed.
Haydn received invitations from France, Italy, and England, asking him to visit those countries. He loved the prince so much that he did not accept these invitations. He felt, too, that no one could take his place as the prince's chapel master.
In 1790 the noble prince died. Soon after, an English musician, visiting Vienna, urged Haydn to go to London. He said that the English people had long wished to hear him play. Deep in his heart Haydn had always wanted to visit England, and nothing but his love for the prince had kept him in Vienna. He decided to make a trip to London.
The great composer had many friends among the young musicians of Vienna. One of them was Mozart. He was much younger than Haydn, but they were the dearest of friends. It was Mozart who first called the great chapel master, Papa Haydn. Soon many of his friends used that name in speaking of him.
When Mozart heard that Haydn was going to England, he was very sad. He said to Haydn, "You are too old a man to make such a long journey. You do not know languages enough to travel through so many countries." "It is true that I speak few languages," replied Haydn, "but I know one language that every one can understand."
Haydn stayed in London about a year and a half. During that time he wrote several symphonies and conducted many concerts. At every concert all the seats were filled.
Every one in London wanted to see the Austrian composer and to hear his music. Even the king and queen attended Haydn's concerts. At one of these concerts, the seats were sold for a guinea apiece. At another, the ladies were asked to wear their smallest hoop skirts, so that there should be more room for the crowds that wished to attend.
During the eighteen months spent on English soil, there was scarcely a day on which Haydn was not invited out to dinner. He was entertained even at the royal palace.
While he was having all these gay times, Haydn spent many hours each day in hard work. He had not forgotten the lessons of industry his mother had taught him. His mornings were spent in composing, and he refused to see visitors before two o'clock.
One of the greatest pleasures that Haydn had in London was to hear Handel's music sung. The Messiah was given by a thousand players and singers. Haydn's seat was near the king. When the Hallelujah Chorus was sung and the vast audience rose, Haydn burst into tears and exclaimed, "Handel was the master of us all."
After his return to Vienna, Haydn wrote The Creation. This work has made his name famous. He said, "While I was composing The Creation, I knelt down every day and prayed to God to strengthen me for my work."
Every country has its national hymn. The national hymn of Austria is God save the Emperor, written by Francis Joseph Haydn.
The last time that Haydn left his home, he heard The Creation given. He was an old man and very feeble. As he entered the hall, all eyes turned lovingly toward him. Many times, during the evening, storms of applause filled the hall. Haydn was very much moved, for he knew that most of it was for him.
During Haydn's last illness, Vienna was occupied by Napoleon and his troops. The voice of battle often reached Haydn in his quiet home, but he had no fears. Napoleon and his officers treated the great musician with much respect. How Haydn wished that he might shoulder arms and march against the enemy of his country!
Haydn died in 1809 at the age of seventy-seven. A short time before his death, he called his servants to his bedside and asked to be carried to the piano. There he played and sang the Austrian national hymn, God save the Emperor.
Some day you may be fortunate enough to cross the broad Atlantic and visit European countries. If you are, you will surely wish to go to Germany. Many hundreds of travelers go there every year to take a trip down the Rhine. It is said to be the most beautiful river in all the world.
There are many interesting things to be seen on a trip down the Rhine. On one side green vineyards slope down to the river. On the other side rocky bluffs rise abruptly from the water's edge. Old castles stand on many of the bluffs. Some of the castles are in ruins and are almost hidden by the overgrowing ivy.
LUDWIG VAN BEETHOVEN
Many are the cities and villages that have been built along the banks of the Rhine. Some of the cities are quaint and old-fashioned. Bonn is such a city. The people of Bonn are very proud of a certain low building that faces a narrow street. They take every traveler to see it. They point over the door to a tablet on which are carved words meaning, "In this house Ludwig van Beethoven was born, December 17, 1770."
Ludwig van Beethoven was one of the great German composers. In fact, many people consider him the greatest composer that the world has ever known. Whether this be true or not, certain it is that his music is loved in every land. Nearly a century and a half has passed since Ludwig van Beethoven was born in his humble home in Bonn. Ludwig's father was a singer. He was a good-for-nothing sort of fellow. He never earned enough money to support his family well.
He was paid about one hundred and twenty-five dollars a year for singing in a church. Besides this he made money by giving music lessons. He spent the little money that he had carelessly. He often spent it for himself when it was greatly needed by his wife and children.
Indeed, if it had not been for the good old grandfather, things would have gone hard with the Beethoven family. As long as he lived, he was a great help to them in every way. There were several Beethoven children, but Ludwig was his grandfather's pet and was named for him.
Ludwig was only three years old when his grandfather died. Well did the boy remember the old gentleman's scarlet coat and flashing eye. Well did he remember, too, his love and kindness.
The mother of the great Beethoven was a patient, hard-working woman. He never forgot the lessons of truth and obedience he received from her. Beethoven always spoke tenderly of his mother and never forgot her patience. When he was a young man, he wrote, "She was a dear, good mother and my best friend."
Little Ludwig was hardly out of his cradle before his father gave him music lessons. While he was still a tiny lad, he was compelled to practice many hours each day. When he was only four years old, the neighbors often saw him sitting on a bench by the door, sobbing. He cried because he knew that he must soon go in to work at his scales.
Ludwig's father hoped that his son would learn music rapidly. He wished to have him play in concerts as Mozart had done when a boy. He thought that in this way much money might be earned. So he kept the lad almost constantly at work at his music. Ludwig practiced almost all the time when he was not at school or sleeping.
The boy studied two instruments, the piano and the violin. At first his father was his only teacher. But soon a regular music teacher was employed. The boy practiced hours at a time. When we think how much work was required of the little fellow, we almost wonder that he did not hate his music. But this was not the case. On the contrary, he liked it better than anything else in the wide world.
By the time Ludwig van Beethoven was ten years old, he had become a fine organist. He had received some lessons on the organ. His teacher was organist in the prince's chapel. Once upon a time this man was called away from Bonn. Wondering whom he could get to play in his absence, he thought and thought. Finally he said: "Perhaps the boy, Beethoven, could take my place. I will give him the chance, and we shall see what the lad can do."
How proud was the boy when his teacher honored him in this way! He said to himself: "I must do my very best. I do not want my master to be ashamed of his pupil." He put forth his best efforts, and every one who heard him had words of praise for his playing. When the master returned and heard of it, he said, "Some day this boy will be as famous as Mozart."
The organist in the chapel at Bonn did not know how true his words were. He did not dream that one day the German people would be proud to erect a monument in Bonn to this same Beethoven. Little did he imagine that the one word Beethoven would be considered sufficient to carve at the base of the monument.
With the other Beethoven children, Ludwig was sent to school. He had lessons in all the common school studies and in French, Latin, and Italian besides.
Early in his teens, Ludwig was appointed second court organist. He was paid for this work, but the knowledge of great composers which he gained was worth more to him than the money he received.
Although in after years Beethoven was untidy, he cared much for dress when he was court organist. Every one turned to look at the little fellow in his sea-green coat and white flowered waistcoat. With his hat under his arm and with his sword at his side, young Beethoven looked very much like one of the gentlemen of the court.
The year 1787 was one which Beethoven never forgot. That was the year in which he first went to Vienna. He was at that time seventeen years old. For many months he had been longing to visit the Austrian capital.
For a long time Beethoven had been saving his money to take this trip. Like all other young musicians of those days, he had a great desire to study in Vienna. He hoped, too, that he should be fortunate enough to play for Mozart. In this he was not disappointed.
You may imagine how happy Beethoven must have been to meet Mozart one day and to be allowed to play for him. He played selections from the great composers, until Mozart said: "Many others can do what you have just done. I have heard that you often compose as you play. Sit down again and compose for me."
The young musician was excited, but he was not afraid. He knew that he should succeed. He had often composed as he played, and felt sure that he could do it now. For a few moments only there was silence. Then the boy's fingers moved swiftly over the keys, and the room was filled with the sweetest music. Not once did the lad falter, not once did he make the slightest mistake.