After fifteen months in London and nearly three years performing throughout Europe, it was finally time to return home – until Father decided on a brief detour to Holland. His understanding of the word brief was generous.
There, we performed before nobles and played on wonderful church organs, but the hardships of travel began to wear on us. I still remember it vividly when Nannerl fell gravely ill with typhoid fever. It began innocently, with a feverish head, which, given her temperament, hardly seemed unusual. The seriousness of the situation became clear when Mother refused my offer to play music in hopes of lifting up her spirits.
Nannerl was dying. Her state was so dire, that Father summoned a priest to administer the last sacrament.
Until then, I had always believed death was reserved exclusively for the elderly. Sometimes I slipped into her room just to see her peaceful face in the candlelight. Then, mercifully, a royal doctor arrived, and life returned to her body. The dark days passed, and our home was once again filled with the joyful sounds of music.