In the eighteenth century the cult of the gamba amongst English ladies was at its height. It became an indispensable piece of furniture in every house, and no drawing-room was complete without a viola da gamba hung upon the wall, and oh! what a godsend it proved when a dull visitor strained the hostess’s powers of entertainment to their last point.
It was in this century that Dr Burney in his colossal “History of Music” says: “This year and the preceding year [1721-22], Mrs Sarah Ottey frequently performs solos at concerts on three several instruments: harpsichord, bass-viol, and violin.” Although this little paragraph has been frequently quoted, no one appears to have cared to peer deeper into Mrs Ottey’s career. For some reason she has been allowed to live solely on the reputation of these few lines. Thanks, however, to the fact that our British Museum owns Dr Burney’s valuable collection of newspapers, the felicity of digging up a little more of Mrs Sarah Ottey has been possible to us. Apparently her first appearance took place on the 9th March 1720, for The Daily Post of 5th March of that year contains the following advertisement:—
At Stationers’ Hall, near Ludgate, on Wednesday next being the 9th of March, will be performed a Consort of Vocal and Instrumental Musick by the best Masters. For the benefit of Mrs Sarah Ottey, wherein she will perform several Pieces alone on the Harpsichord, Bass Viol, and Violin. To begin exactly at Six a Clock. Tickets to be had at 5s. each, at Mrs Anderson’s at St James’s-Gate, at Rosine’s, White’s, and Williams’s Chocolate Houses, at Mr Hare’s in Cornhill, Mrs Ottey’s in Honey-Lane Market, and at the Hall-Door the said night.
Her next important appearance took place two years later at the “Theatre Royal in Lincoln’s Inn Fields,” where she performed on the three several instruments on the 27th of February 1721. The entertainment was announced “For the Benefit of Mrs Ottey.” A year later she is advertised to play at the same theatre, and the announcement gives the added information that Mrs Ottey’s husband had something to do with the “Carpenter’s Arms,” and that it is her last appearance. These quaint old advertisements are always amusing, so we will not hesitate to give the announcement of the fair gambist’s final appearance in full.
For the Benefit of Mrs Sarah Ottey[33]
At the Theatre Royal, in Lincoln’s Inn Fields, on Tuesday being the 27th February, will be perform’d a comedy call’d Love makes a man, or The Fop’s Fortune, in which will be performed several pieces of musick on the bass-viol, harpsichord and violin by Mrs Ottey (being the last time of her appearing in publick), with several entertainments of dancing.
Tickets to be had at Mr William’s coffee-house in St James’s Street, and at Mr Ottey’s at the Carpenter’s Arms in Honey-Lane Market.
Apparently Mrs Ottey’s career as an artiste extended over but three years—that is, of course, if we are to believe the announcement that it was her last appearance in public on the 27th February 1722/3. In these days such a statement would imply that the said artist or artiste was good for several farewell performances, and a tour round the world as well. But the subjects of King George I., being far removed from twentieth-century customs, were perhaps more veracious in their notifications. Mr and Mrs Ottey having feathered their nest at the Carpenter’s Arms, where the lady’s talented performances were a great attraction to the patrons of the tavern, a little stretch of the imagination may easily see them migrating to a snug little farm in the country, where their dreams of rose bowers and new milk could be indulged in freely for the rest of their lives. Whether this was the true cause of Mrs Ottey’s withdrawal from public life or not, we cannot say, but certain it is that she kept her word, for there is no trace of any further concert appearances in London after the 27th February 1722/3.
About fifteen years after Mrs Sarah Ottey’s last bow to a London audience, a baby, who was destined to become a beautiful and talented woman, was presented to Thomas Ford by his wife, née Champion. The auspicious event took place in a house near the Temple, on the 22nd February 1737, and created the usual stir among the happy couple’s relations, who moved among the haute monde. Thomas Ford himself was a clerk of the arraigns, one of his brothers was the Queen’s physician, and the other—Gilbert Ford—occupied a high position as Governor-General of Jamaica. As niece of two such eminent men, and also being dowered with a wealth of beauty and talent, Ann—as her parents christened her—grew up among gentle surroundings, and was received by, and made a favourite of, the most fashionable society. Long before she was twenty, she had tasted of the intoxicating delights of admiration to an extent which would have been sufficient to turn most young girls’ heads. Hone had painted her in the character of a muse, the Earl of Chesterfield had extolled her dancing, and many a lordly beaux had fluttered at her feet. But although she flirted, and played many a dangerous game with her admirers, Ann Ford was endowed with an intellect that sought for something else besides the pastime of varied flirtations. “She is excellent in music, and loves solitude,” wrote one lord to another about her, “and has unmeasurable affectations.”
Not the least of these so-called “affectations” alluded to by her adorer, were Ann Ford’s musical gifts, which she developed with all the powers of her culture-loving mind. Her voice and singing were praised by the most excellent critics of the day, and by many she was esteemed to be quite equal to the favourite Mrs Billington as a vocalist. In one respect, there is no doubt that she surpassed the latter, for one of Ann Ford’s most admired characteristics was the delightful manner in which she could accompany her songs on the guitar or viola da gamba. Like attracts like, and it was only natural, the talents of this clever lady in due course drew the attention of the best musicians of the day. She established a sort of musical salon which was held each Sunday at her house, and to these came Arne, Tenducci, Rauzzini, Pinto, and a host of musical celebrities and fashionable dilettanti. Nothing delighted the music-loving hostess more than these weekly opportunities of welcoming her artist friends, but there was one sting to be found in her cup of happiness, which took the form of her truly British parent, Ford père. He objected strongly to his daughter’s public display of her talents, and neglected no opportunity of showing his disapproval. In spite of his remonstrances, in spite of his displeasure, his spirited daughter still continued to hold her réunions each week, and also frequently performed at her friends’ houses.
The abrupt ending of a more than ordinary affaire de cœur with a married man, “a Person of Distinction” brought the climax. Ann Ford decided to fly in the teeth of her parent’s displeasure. She would give a series of Subscription Concerts at the Little Theatre in the Haymarket. In vain did the father forbid the whole thing, and finally resorting to threats, the daughter flew from the paternal roof to the house of a friend. Immediately Ford père procured a magistrate’s warrant wherewith he secured the person of his wayward child and brought her home. But neither warrants, nor lock and key, could deter Ann Ford from her purpose, and she managed to elude her father’s vigilance and escape again. The sensationalism caused by these incidents brought friends old and new thronging round the distressed lady. The heart of aristocracy was touched, and the first of Ann Ford’s series of subscription concerts on the 18th March 1760 furnished her with £1,500. Still her troubles were not at an end, for her father, on the night of the concert, employed a number of ruffians to surround the theatre and these were only dispersed by Lord Sackville’s threats to send for a detachment of the Guards.
The programme of this first concert was included in the following advertisement which appeared in The Public Advertiser on the 17th March 1760:—