Mary Ann and Miss Mozart
Read Mary Ann and Miss Mozart Online
Authors: Ann Turnbull
About
The Historical House
This series is a unique collaboration between three award-winning authors, Adèle Geras, Linda Newbery and Ann Turnbull, all writing about one very special house and the extraordinary young women who have lived there throughout history.
Adèle Geras
Lizzie’s Wish
Cecily’s Portrait
Linda Newbery
Polly’s March
Andie’s Moon
Ann Turnbull
Josie Under Fire
Mary Ann & Miss Mozart
About this book
Mary Ann’s greatest wish is to become an opera singer, and she’s thrilled when the famous child prodigy Mozart comes to perform with his sister at Ranelagh Gardens in Chelsea.
But through a sudden twist of fate, Mary Ann is told she must leave her Boarding School for Young Ladies, and her singing dreams are shattered. Distraught, she comes up with a plan to stay at school, oblivious to the danger it will put her in…
An enchanting story of dreams and determination, set in the colourful world of eighteenth century London.
For Roberta
Floor plans of 6 Chelsea Walk in 1764
Download the floor plan from
Mary Ann and Miss Mozart
at the Usborne Quicklinks website
Contents
Floor plans of 6 Chelsea Walk in 1764
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter One
A New School
Mary Ann had read Mrs. Neave’s advertisement card so many times, and with such happy anticipation, that she knew it by heart:
MRS. NEAVE’S BOARDING SCHOOL FOR YOUNG LADIES
A genteel riverside establishment in the village of Chelsea, having the advantage of clean air and proximity to the countryside, and yet within four miles of the City. Parents may be assured that every care is taken of our pupils, and attention paid to their manners and behaviour at all times. Young ladies are taught: English, French, Arithmetic, Geography, Needlework, Deportment and Dancing; with the opportunity to take lessons in Singing and Harpsichord at a small extra cost. 21 guineas a year.
Singing and harpsichord lessons! Mary Ann could imagine nothing she would like more. And that small extra cost would easily be borne by her father, who spared no expense if it would further his children’s advancement in the world. Her mother had visited Mrs. Neave’s establishment and pronounced it suitable, and today, 30th April 1764, Mary Ann was to leave home.
She looked out of the window and glimpsed, between rooftops and chimneys, the Thames, busy with small boats. Soon she would be there, on the river, on her way to Chelsea. Now that the moment had come she felt a rush of affection for her home, for her family and servants, the old dog Bullet with his unsteady waddle and adoring eyes, the familiar streets of the City.
Her elder sister Harriet tapped at the door and came in.
“I see you are dressed and ready.” She joined Mary Ann at the window. “Are you nervous?”
“Yes.” It would be strange to be away from home, sharing every moment with other girls. And what would those girls be like? Most of them would be older than her: “refined, elegant young ladies”, Mrs. Neave had told her mother. “Will they all be very grand, do you think?”
“Of course not! They’ll be girls like you. You’ll soon make friends.”
Harriet smiled. She smiled often these days. Her own schooldays were behind her and she had recently become engaged to be married. Mary Ann thought her fiancé, Mr. Philip Browne, rather old and dull, but she supposed Harriet must like him; certainly Harriet liked the prospect of having a home and servants of her own.
“We’ll write to each other,” said Harriet.
“Yes! And I’ll write to George.”
Her brother was at a boarding school in Hertfordshire. They were close in age and she missed him.
“Mary Ann!”
Her mother’s voice sounded from the floor below; and Amy, their lady’s maid, came back into the room to check Mary Ann’s dress and hair before allowing her downstairs to be inspected.
The sisters went down together to the drawing room, where their mother was waiting.
“Oh!” she exclaimed. “How grown-up you look, Mary Ann!”
Mary Ann’s fair hair was drawn back from her face and arranged in neat curls. Her blue cotton gown (expensive but not showy, as befitted a merchant’s schoolgirl daughter) was worn over a hooped frame, and this, together with stays boned at front and back, forced her to stand up straight under her mother’s scrutiny.
Her mother turned her around and nodded approval. “Yes. You’ll do well. And now we must go. Tom is waiting downstairs with your trunk.”
They all went out into the courtyard. The servants – Sarah and Betty – came out to wish Mary Ann well, and Harriet kissed her goodbye. Bullet wagged his tail and pushed a damp nose against her hand. Her father, who went early to the coffee house to do business, had already said his farewell. Now their serving man Tom lifted the trunk and the three of them set off on the short walk to the landing stage at Old Swan Stairs.
Tom soon found them a boatman, and helped both mother and daughter aboard. The boat rocked alarmingly as Mary Ann stepped in, and it was no easy task to arrange her hooped skirts around herself as she sat down. She knew that getting in and out of boats and carriages gracefully was one of the many skills she would be expected to learn at Mrs. Neave’s school.
She pulled her wrap around her shoulders as the boat moved out into the centre of the river. They left the City and travelled west, passing Whitehall, Westminster and the Houses of Parliament. Then came a great bend in the river, the buildings on the shore were less densely packed and she began to see fields beyond them. Mary Ann thought they must be nearly there, but it still seemed an age before the boatman pulled in at a small landing stage on a tree-lined bank, and she saw beyond it a road with a row of tall terraced houses facing the river.
“There is Chelsea Walk,” said her mother.
They disembarked and climbed the shallow steps to the road, Tom following with the trunk.
Mrs. Neave’s establishment was at Number Six: a large five-storey house of red brick with tall wrought-iron gates.
Mary Ann looked up. She had an impression of many rows of windows, all watching her as she shook down the crumpled layers of her skirts and began to pick her way across the muddy road. Beyond the gates was a short garden and a flight of steps leading to the front door.
Her mother took her hand and squeezed it. She led Mary Ann in through the gateway and up the steps, and knocked at the door. A maid – a dark-eyed, handsome girl – let them into the hall and then went to fetch her mistress.
Mary Ann stood on the black and white tiled floor and looked around at the lofty space. The hall was panelled in wood, and there were several closed doors – one with a murmur of voices behind it – and an archway leading to the back where a great staircase with polished wooden boards led up to a tall window on the half landing, then turned and carried on upwards. She felt very small.
