Mozart's Sister (8 page)

I started to laugh, then put a hand to my mouth. "Papa? A
priest?"

"It was not what he wanted either." She smiled. "Nor what he
was suited for."

"They're angry at one another for that?"

"They did not understand his passion for music."

I lifted my skirt and stepped over some horse-dirty in the street.
"But if he had not become a musician, we would not ..."

Mama put an arm around my shoulders. "He pursued what was
in his heart. That ... and me."

It took me a moment to understand. "They didn't approve of
your marriage?"

She shook her head. "My family was poor. When your father
and I fell in love, his father was dead, and his mother had remarried.
And your father's siblings ... they argued a lot"

"Wolfie and I argue sometimes."

"Not like they did." Mama withdrew her arm from my shoulders and I slipped my hand into the crook of her elbow. "I have
never met them."

"Never?"

She shook her head. "What distresses your father the most was
that your grandmother withheld money that was due him as the
oldest son."

Money. Yes, that would upset Papa. "Was it a large sum?"

"Substantial. The other siblings received three hundred florins
upon their marriage-that is equal to nearly a year's salary for your
father. But we received nothing."

"Because he didn't become a priest?"

Mania shrugged. "Your father is a good man and did what
needed to be done. That the family will not make amends brings
me great sorrow"

I could not help but notice she'd said, "brings me great sorrow" When Papa had gotten upset in the carriage, it had been out of
anger, not grief.

Mama turned around and we started back. I had one more question to ask. "Why are we going to Augsburg if it brings him such
pain?"

Mama leaned close. "Revenge can be sweet."

Ah. So that was it. His family would see that Papa was a success-and so were Wolfie and I. Maybe, if we played extremely well,
his family would run toward us after the concert, take us into their
arms, and say, "You are wonderful and it's been too long. Finally, we
are together at last!"

I would have happy dreams tonight, imagining.

Family was everything to Papa. Though, if offered this fact, he
might have hedged and exclaimed that God was more important.
But those of us who knew the truth would see his piety for what it
was: a statement made for the Almighty's benefit.

We were not so easily fooled.

Yet, while in Augsburg, just weeks into our trip, amid the roots
of my father's familial ties, I was confronted with a confusing fact:
family was all-important-as long as it wasn't Papa's family.

"Keeping the proper people away from our concerts? It's the
work of my brothers, I know it!"

"Shh, Leopold." Mama looked toward the door of our room at
the inn, her hands pressing the air, trying to calm him. "You mustn't
make such sweeping statements."

Papa purposely faced the door and spoke as if his extended family were directly on the other side. "I can-if it's the truth!"

Wolfie and I were behind the screen changing into our bedclothes, but we peeked through the slats. I wasn't sure how his family
could keep people away. Or what people were "proper."

"And my mother . . ." Papa continued. "Though she remains
my mother a thousand times over, she is wretched and has very little
sense. She favors my siblings. She lets them take advantage. She
always has."

Mama put a hand on his shoulder. "Dear one ... the dowry is an old wound. We've been married for fourteen years now, and-"

Papa moved away from her touch. "It's an undressed wound!"
His voice lowered. "And you know there are more issues at stake
than that."

She moved close a second time and took his hand. "I know"

"I wanted them to see. I wanted them ..."

She stroked his cheek. "I know ..."

He grabbed her hand, stopping its comfort. "We played three
public concerts here at the inn. Three. Yet they stayed away. They
had to know we are here. It was in the papers. We are staying at this
ridiculously expensive inn just so ..."

I peeked at the carving on the ceiling and the velvet on the chair
by the window. I'd noticed it was a better lodging than the others,
and now I knew why.

He picked up a newspaper that was lying on one of the beds,
opened it, and read, "'Leopold Mozart has afforded the inhabitants
of his native city the pleasure of hearing the effect of the extraordinary gifts which the Great God has bestowed on these two dear little
ones in such abundant measure; gifts of which the Herr Kapellmeister has, as a true father, taken care with such indefatigable zeal."' He
tossed the paper to the floor, then pointed to it. "They realize my
accomplishments and my great success, which my family refuses to
acknowledge."

Mama picked up the newspaper and folded it carefully. "Perhaps
it is you who should call on them?"

"Never!" He began to pace in front of the door. "To do so would
be submitting to their authority-a privilege they have never earned."

"To do so would be to follow God's directive to love one another."

He stopped pacing and glared at her. "Don't bring Him into this."

"Then don't exclude Him."

Suddenly Papa's shoulders dropped. He looked old. "I try ... I
try so hard."

Mama took him into her arms, and he dropped his head to her
shoulder. She stroked his hair as she often stroked ours. "No one
tries harder, dear one. You are a good man. A good husband. A
good father. But I would like to meet your family. I would like the
children to meet them."

Papa nodded into her shoulder.

Wolfie turned to me. "Is Papa crying?"

Papa immediately stood erect and faced the door, his hands busy
at his face. Mama clapped her hands twice and moved toward the
changing screen. We quickly returned to our dressing. "Come,
come, children," she said. "It's time for bed. We leave tomorrow"

Good. I wanted away from here. I wanted Papa to be away from
here too.

Papa put family first-our family. I hoped we would be enough
for him. For it was clear he'd given up everything for us.

How could I offer him less?

Although Papa said we'd barely earned enough in Augsburg to
cover our expenses, I was excited because it was in that city that he
bought us a portable clavier from Johann Stein. The instrument
would be handy for practicing during our travels.

Yet except for that one high point and seeing the beautiful scenery-from the left or right we saw an endless expanse of water,
woods, fields, meadows, gardens, and vineyards, and all these mingled in the most charming fashion-our trip west during the next
few days was tedious. We stopped in Ulm, where Papa spoke out
against the Gothic architecture and the half-timbered houses. He
said they were dreadful, old-fashioned, and tastelessly built. He
much preferred symmetry. I didn't mind the fancy curlicues of the
cathedrals. They reminded me of a land of fantasy. I didn't believe
heaven would be symmetrical and ordered. Nature was too full of
caprice to make heaven anything but.

I kept my views to myself.

We were heading to Stuttgart because we had a letter of introduction to Duke Karl Eugene, but at a station where we stopped to
change horses, we discovered he was leaving Stuttgart for his palace
at Ludwigsburg, and from there was going to travel to his hunting
lodge fourteen hours away.

Papa had no choice but to change direction, and we headed to
Ludwigsburg to try to catch him. But when we arrived, he had already moved on-and worse, had commandeered most of the
horses. Papa spent hours combing the town for steeds.

The rest of us spent our time at the inn. While Mama rested in
the bed behind us, Wolfie and I dragged two chairs to the window
and marveled at the show being played out on the street below

There were soldiers everywhere, marching, ever marching.
Before going out to look for the horses, Papa had complained that
when you spit, you spit into an officer's pocket or a soldier's cartridge box. We were told by the innkeeper that there were twelve
to fifteen thousand soldiers in town, yet they really didn't have any
reason for being there. Five months previous, the Seven Years' War
had been declared over. France and our own Maria Theresa had
fought Prussia and England over the eastern land of Silesia-with
Frederick of Prussia getting to keep Silesia in the end. Yet Duke Karl
Eugene didn't care that there wasn't a war going on. He liked having
pretty soldiers around. Papa said they made him feel powerful. Most
had been forced into service through raids of peasant villages and
were hired out as soldiers to foreign states.

Wherever they came from or wherever they were going, all were
grand.

Wolfie leaned out the window to see better-too far. I grabbed
a handful of his shirt and pulled him back to safety.

"They look pretend," he said, totally oblivious to the fact he'd
ever been in danger. "They look like they're about to take their
places in an opera."

He was right. The soldiers were dressed exactly alike, even down
to their hair, which was powdered white, combed back, and done
up in curls. In contrast, their beards were greased coal black. It was
an odd combination.

We listened to the officers yell out their commands: "Halt!
Quick march! Right! Left!"

I leaned my elbows on the sill, amazed at the soldiers' straight
lines as they marched. "I can't imagine them getting their pretty
uniforms dirty in battle," I said.

Wolfie jumped off his chair and ran to an open travel trunk, where
he retrieved the child-sized sword he often wore with his fanciest suits.
He stood very straight and held it vertically, flat against his nose. "I will be a soldier. I will be very brave and fight for the empress!"

He spoke too loudly and I shushed him. I glanced at Mama,
who was trying to nap, but too late. Mama sat erect. "You will not
be a soldier, young man. Never!"

"Why not?" Wolfie asked. He thrust the sword at the trunk as
if it were an enemy soldier.

Mama swung her feet over the side of the bed and tried to reach
her shoes with a toe. I spotted one of the shoes under the bed and
rushed to bring it close. She put them on and answered Wolfie with
a sigh. "Because you are destined to be a great musician, that's why."

Wolfie caught the edge of a nightshirt with his sword and flung
it across the room, where it caught the air and billowed to the floor.
"I could do both," he said, running after it.

"You could not, and will not." She motioned him over. He
complied, and Mama took control of the nightshirt and the sword
and took his hands in hers. "You, dear Wolfgang, have a gift from
God. Your father and I are doing our best to make sure the entire
world knows about it. It is a gift that should be cherished and nurtured. It is your destiny."

I moved to her side. "What about me, Mama?"

But Mama wasn't done with Wolfie yet. She looked intently at
his eyes. "Do you understand me, dear boy?"

Instead of answering, he kissed her cheek and went back to the
window to watch the soldiers.

Finally finding myself with Mama's full attention, I asked the
question again. "What is my destiny, Mama?" To perform with your
brother, becoming the greatest duo in all musical hist-

Mama stroked my cheek. Her face lost its adamant edge and
eased into a wistful smile. "You, my dear daughter, are destined to
be a wife and mother. You will have many children and teach all of
them to make music just as we have taught-"

I took a step back, shaking my head.

"You are upset?" Mama asked.

"I want to be a great musician like Wolfie. I want to compose
and perform all over the world-with him."

"Even your brother will eventually need to find a paid position
in a court. But paid musical positions are not available for women. Now, if you were a great singer, you might be able to sing in an
opera....

I felt the air go out of me. Finally I managed a fresh breath. "If
I have no hopes of ever getting a position, then why am I doing this
tour?"

"Because you can. Now you can."

"But later?"

Mania shrugged. She took my hand and kissed it. "Right now
you are having experiences far beyond those of most girls-most
women. Appreciate what you have now, what you are seeing and
doing. Take it in and hold it close, here ..." She touched the center
of my forehead. "And here." She laid a gentle hand over my heart.
"It's all you can do"

"But it's not fair. Just because he's a boy and I'm a girl . .

Mama stood and tugged at the corset that bound her torso. She
looked past me toward the window. "Hopefully your father will be
back soon. Help me get the brown trunk better organized so we
will be ready to leave."

I looked toward Wolfie, who was once again hanging precariously out the window