That very moment in her narrow
bedroom in the garret rooms in Mannheim, with the portrait of
Christ on the dresser as well as a miniature of her husband and
daughter, Mozart’s mother sat in her dressing gown and evening cap,
blowing her inflamed nose now and then, her feet resting on a
stool, rereading for the third time the letter that had come that
day from her husband.
My dear Wife,
I have on your suspicion gotten the whole truth
from my brother and his daughter, and I have begged him to lock her
up on bread and water before she inveigles any more good young men.
They still, I fear, will find ways to write to each other.
Intercept any letters you can. He must not involve himself for many
years, and I fear for the warmth of his blood. He is more emotional
than prudent, though he won’t hear it from me. We have put our
whole lives into him, and he must not permit distractions from his
work.
Yes, the flute quartet is exceptional, as is the
little pianoviolin duet he sent to Nannerl. His gifts blossom
rapidly, so the amount of time we must be content to have you both
remain in Mannheim must be carefully considered. If they do not
recognize Wolfgang’s genius soon, I must suggest you travel even
farther with him. I have enclosed what money I can spare, though
things are dear. Our daughter wears herself out giving clavier
lessons; she is a saint of God. The enclosed longer letter you will
give to him: my thoughts on the flute quartet’s excellent middle
movement and news of the latest musical intrigue as it will affect
us, written in code. The world is a terrible place, one can get
through it only being as somber a Catholic as one can and trusting
in no man but those dearest to us.
I am your devoted Husband,
Leopold Mozart
Maria Anna Mozart glanced at the enclosed letter
with its code. Wise, she thought, nodding. Who could trust anything
in the world indeed, and in Salzburg the Archbishop had his spies
everywhere.
Taking a new sheet of paper, she replied,
My dear Husband,
Yes, thank God he is far away from Augsburg. As for
young women though, Husband, there is nothing as ubiquitous as
young women. They are everywhere, and we must be very vigilant. If
he does keep his wretched cousin in his heart (forgive me for
speaking unkindly of a member of your family), his heart will at
least be safe and he will not notice any other girl. Therefore, I
find it best not to intercept these letters, as long as we remain
so many fortunate miles away, for what harm can be done between a
young man and woman with so many miles between them?
I take care of my health as well as I can.
She dusted the letter with sand to dry the ink,
and folded it. Her long face, with its look of concern, was tired.
She folded her hands, coughed several times, and began her evening
prayers.