Free Mozart's Sister by Nancy Moser Page B

Pompadour's court
and the queen's? Even though we played for both, Papa chose the
queen's. He cemented his choice by suggesting Wolfie dedicate two
of the four sonatas he'd composed (and that we were having
engraved) to the queen's court. One was to Madame Victoire, the
most shy of the queen's daughters, and the second was dedicated to
a lady-in-waiting who was the daughter of an influential duke. Papa
also made sure the engravings noted that the composer was only
seven years old. We looked forward to the furor that would cause.
    All these women of influence ... We came to see that it was
women who made things happen in Paris. They were the people
who could help us-or hurt us. It was odd to see women have such
power, but it was the Parisian way. Being a woman of influence ...
Perhaps one day I would end up in this place, as a great woman
musician.
    If so, I needed to compose my own music, yet every time I
mentioned it or got out a page of staff paper, Papa said, "No, Nannerl. Concentrate on your playing. Let your brother do the composing.
    And Wolfie was good at it.
    But couldn't I be good too?
    Perhaps one day. We'd see. Perhaps when we got home and life
was more normal.

    We left Versailles and returned to the home of the Count and
Countess van Eyck in Paris on the eighth of January, 1764. But our
time of giving concerts was not over. We performed at many public
concerts and Papa arranged posters. One afternoon, while we were
practicing, they were delivered.
    Papa unwrapped the brown paper to see them: Come hear the
incredible musical talent of the Salzburg Children! Hear Maria Anna
Mozart, aged 11, and her brother, Wolfgang, 6. Be astounded by their musical prowess! Be humbled by their talent! Be amazed at their unparalleled ability!

    It was a nice poster. And yet . . . "Papa?" I asked. "It says I'm
eleven and Wolfie six. I'm twelve now, and Wolfie is seven."
    Wolfie raised his hand. "Almost eight! In a few weeks I'll be
eight!"
    Papa straightened the posters. "It was necessary. A necessity."
    Mama shook her head but didn't say anything.
    He removed one poster and handed it to Mama, then draped
the rest over his arm. "Younger is better. Now I must go and arrange
for these to be distributed. Get back to your practice."
    He left with a whoosh of cold air. I looked at Mama, wondering
how she really felt about this lie.
    She ran a finger along the edge of the poster, as if reading it
again. Then she looked at us. "Get back to your practice, children."
    Younger. Papa said remaining young was a necessity.
    How were we supposed to do that?

    It was bright sunlight when I awoke. This was not usual. Mama
always had us up before the sun.
    I sat up in bed. Wolfie was still asleep, the covers twisted around
his legs. But Mama and Papa were gone.
    I heard voices and footsteps in the hall. People hurried up and
down the stairs. Something was wrong.
    I got out of bed and put a shawl around my shoulders. The fire
in the grate was nearly out. Mama never let it go out....
    I cracked the door just as a maid walked by carrying a shallow
pewter bowl. In it was blood.
    Who was being bled?
    As she started down the stairs, I called after her. "Who's sick?"
    She paused halfway down. "The countess fell in during the middle of the night and spit blood. The doctor has already bled her
twice." She nodded toward the hall. "Your mother is with her." She
continued downstairs.
    The countess was sick enough to be bled? I'd heard that patients were only bled when whatever was harming them had to be given
a means of exiting the body. So for the countess to have been bled
twice already ... I retreated into the room and quickly got dressed.

    Wolfie stirred and opened one eye. "It's light...."
    I pulled on my stockings. "Go back to sleep," I said.
    He nodded and snuggled into the pillow
    I put on my shoes and tied the back of my dress as best as I
could without help, then hurried down the hall toward the family's
quarters.