June 1788

My most estimable friend, Michael Puchberg!

I feel it has been ages since we have last corresponded. I have not had a moment to myself to finally respond to your letters and convey my happenings. At any moment when I attempt to continue my communication with you, there is but another task I must tend to. As you know, my compositions and traveling have kept me very much occupied, but as you also know my Brother, I have the utmost dedication to you. I do pray that your trades in Vienna have been successful ones. I myself have been hoping to confirm an orchestra in the Prince’s court. As I spoke of earlier, I was in correspondence with Sebastian Winters, Royal Groom-of-the-Chambers, to settle this arrangement.

As such close friends – in all honestly, you are in fact a brother to me – I must ask for your quick reply and acceptance of the request I know leave in this letter. With such a close bond, as brothers do have, I must now be frank with you. You know me of a man of honor and loyalty. But I now must ask you for a small sum to ease my financial situation. I ask for a mere 1000 florins. This sum would at last give me the opportunity to focus on my music. I apologize for this imposition, but I assure you I will repay this loan with interest. My brother, as you know, whoever lends to me is secure enough by reason of my character.

You do not understand how this small contribution will be the greatest of comforts to me. My mind can be at rest, and I can once again compose to earn my salary. I hope you receive this letter in good health and with an open heart. You generosity is very much appreciated.

Your true friend,

W. A. Mozart

June 1789

Honorable Michael!

Oh my brother, how I do hope my last letter found you in good health. I cannot express enough my gratitude for your generosity. However, I must show regret in writing you again. It torments me, but I must ask again for further funding. My circumstances have worsened, as my father, wife, and child have fallen ill. I still continue to work on my own to earn money; however, my ventures have proven fruitless. Your further contribution would be very helpful and so very much appreciated.

Oh how horrible fate has been to me. I face many a misfortune and grovel in desperation. I profess, with all my heart, my thankfulness and I again assure you the good of your generosity will outweigh the bad.

Ever yours,

W. A. Mozart

June 1790

Dearest Brother!

Oh truest of friends! Brother dearest! I am so very grateful for your earlier services to me. However, I regret to inform of further personal tribulations.

My misfortunes have only multiplied and I now beg so shamelessly for your help and money. Although I see possible lucrative opportunities in the future, I must now rely on you, my faithful friend. Please excuse my persistent demands – it is just that I am so confident in our strong bond. I am forever in your debt, most gracious brother.

Your humble servant,

Mozart

Hello and my name is Maria and I am struggling as a single mom. My husband had passed away after my child’s first birthday from fighting a nearby village. He had a sword go right through his heart, a friend of his mentioned to me. Ever since this tragedy, things have not been the same. It is very difficult for me to feed my child and still watch over our house. I also have high hopes for our child, as I want him to go to school and hopefully avoid being drafted to become a soldier. I would not want him to have the same fate as his father. I also want him to start a family and be able to enjoy spending time with his kids. Winter is coming soon and I am still not sure how I will take care of little Nicholas.
Aside from the tough life I lead, it is my dream to break free from my shell and make something of my life. I would have loved if I had the opportunity to have fought in the army instead of my husband. I have troubling thoughts in my brain that propel me to move forward and attempt to make a better life for myself. I only dream of getting an education, but I know under my living conditions, it is almost certainly impossible. The only work that is left for me in this world is to cook, make clothing, and raise my son.
The ladies in the village have been talking to me recently and discussing the possibility of finding me another man. I loved my husband but at this point, I feel like I need a man just to make it through the day. My garden is getting overfilled and the trees need to be uprooted or else they risk collapse. My son will be growing up without a father and I feel like he should have a strong make figurehead in his life to show him the ropes of life. Theresa is attempting to set me up with William, who had become a widower quite recently after his wife had given birth to a little girl. I feel sorrow for those women who do not get to experience raising a child and holding their child in their arms after such a long period of carrying. However, William is also going through a tough time. He must raise the little girl all by himself. I think it would not be too great of an idea to combine our families, but Theresa has been really worried about me lately and says that both William and I could benefit from such unity. He could help me around the house and be a father figure for my son and I could cook and clean for him and his daughter. At this point in my life, I doubt there is any other choice for me. Maybe I’ll even have some time to spare and form a class in the village that can teach women archery. I’ve always wanted to learn archery and I feel like it’s about time women also got involved in things outside of the kitchen. For now I guess all I can hope for is the best.

Paris was a beautiful city heading towards modernization, for the most part, that is. Its trains were filthy. They were dirty and disgusting, yet they were the fastest available mode of transportation available to everyone. The Parisians had no other choice, and the trains were full of the third class. The conditions that the lowerclassmen was in were as worse as those of the peasants outside the city. These people could not afford first- or second- tickets.  As a result, these poor people were sitting in cramped, dirty, open compartments. The benches were hard and uncomfortable. Without a doubt, no one wanted to ride these rough trains, but then again, it was not a choice, especially to one Parisian woman.

This Parisian woman was hardworking; she worked at a newly opened bakery from dawn to midday in order to support her kids. She lived on the outskirts of Paris, having to take the railroad everyday at least twice. The woman was approaching her late fifties, and she was widowed mother of two. Along with her son and daughter, she just had left the market, where she had bought bread and fruit. Her daughter was a single parent and had an infant in her hand. Lines to enter the train were too long, and upon entering the last train cart, a gruesome stench was in the air.

After finally finding a place to sit down in the crowded compartments, the odor was almost unendurable. People were having such loud conversations, and as the last passenger sat down, the train engine kicked off and released a high-pitched screech. All of this, the odor, the noise, and the stuffiness were all a part of the typical day of this Parisian mother.

Her daughter always carried her infant in her hand. No one sat next to her except her mother and brother. The single parent had become an outcast in society, because she was not married before having her infant nor does she know who the father of the child is. Almost no one in Paris admired to have such a daughter. The old woman, on the other hand, cared less of these traditions and took care of her daughter.

There was nothing to do on these trains. Men dressed in black and their wives had gathered as a group to initiate a conversation and spread the latest rumors of Paris among themselves. The woman faced forward and blankly stared. Her ten-year-old son was tired and fell asleep very quickly.  Her daughter was breastfeeding her child amidst the annoying noise.

“Hey, have you heard how Napoleon III’s power is weakening over the recent years?” said one man.

“No, his power is not weakening. It’s just that he has become lazy and hasn’t done any recent changes to Paris.” replied another.

“Well, it almost seems as if he put a complete halt to his plans to modernize Paris.”

“At least he kept so many of the Medieval structures. It is a good thing he preserved the cathedral of Notre Dame.”

“No one really cares about religion any more,” radically announced a wife of one of the men. Everyone stared at her, even her own husband. What she said could have been reported and have her exiled.

Nevertheless, someone disregarded her and continued the conversation. “Moving on. All I care if they would just improved the transportation around here, but no one cares about our class.”

“I sure hope so. We need improvement in our lives,” whispered the old woman. No one heard her.

The woman’s tiring day of work was approaching an end. The train was finally slowing down and arriving on the outskirts of Paris. The train came to an abrupt halt, and the ride was over. The woman’s son immediately woke up and mostly everyone was knocked off his or her seat because of the abruption. The woman gathered her two children together and left for her house as a group. As the passengers exited the train car, they groaned and complained. All these Parisians asked for was an improvement of their daily lives, and this daily train ride definitely needed improvement.

Story inspired by The Third-Class Carriage by Honoré Daumier