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Updated: June 21, 2025
With a heavy heart he prepared to leave Mannheim, where he had spent such a happy winter, and his love dream came to an end. It was a sad parting with the Weber household, for they regarded Wolfgang as their greatest benefactor. The hopes Leopold Mozart had built on Wolfgang's success in Paris were not to be realized.
After returning to Salzburg, Leopold Mozart, in the spring of 1763, took his children on a more lengthy tour to Munich, Paris, London, and The Hague, and everywhere their playing, especially Wolfgang's performances on the organ, which he had now learned, were listened to with delight and astonishment.
And then he stood a long time, half dressed as he was, and stared into the glass, as though the pupils of his eyes could not move. The day of his confirmation drew near; it was to take place on Palm Sunday. Dr. Baumann had laid the importance of the step they were about to take very clearly before the boys' eyes. Now a certain feeling of solemnity took the place of Wolfgang's former indifference.
Wolfgang stood staring after the carriage as it disappeared quickly; there drove Kullrich after his mother. Wolfgang's good spirits had flown. When his companions with whom he had spent the afternoon sought him with loud hallos Hans must have given his Frida many hearty kisses, her hat was awry, her eyes gleamed amorously he got rid of them without delay.
Käte was in ecstasies about the view she had had, so did not notice the mysterious radiance in Wolfgang's eyes. He was quiet, and seemed to agree to everything. His manner began to cause his mother some uneasiness. What would have made her happy before oh, how she had longed for a more docile child in bygone days! saddened her now. Was he, after all, worse than they had any idea of?
But later on when her husband came down from the lodge, in which he sat in his leisure hours mending boots and shoes, to drink a cup of coffee and eat a bun on Frida's birthday, the doll was fetched out again and shown him. "Fine, isn't it? She's got it from Wolfgang's mamma.
"Well what is she then, may I ask?" "My friend." "Your friend?" His father gave a short angry laugh. "Friend very well, but it's rather early for you to have such a friend. I forbid you to have friends of such doubtful, such more than doubtful character." "She isn't doubtful." Wolfgang's eyes sparkled.
It rained and rained uninterruptedly, came down in torrents as if it would never end. Something gave way in Wolfgang's soul; it became soft. "Mother," he whispered dreamily, stretching out his hot hands so that the cool rain bathed them.
She is quite willing to go; so if it would really give you pleasure to see her, be so kind as to write immediately to her brother, that the thing may be arranged. When you see her and know her, she is certain to please you, for she is a favorite with every one. Wolfgang's pleasantries, in the following; letter to his cousin, show that his good humor was fully restored.
The house-steward's malignant complaint grew worse and worse, so that he gave up all hopes of ever getting about again; and his office was conferred upon an old chasseur, Francis by name, Wolfgang's faithful servant. At last, after long waiting, V received from Switzerland information of the most favourable character.
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