by Mary Cullen

The lives of women who lived in what is now West Dunbartonshire in the 19th and early 20th centuries came alive in old black and white images on a wet afternoon in May. Dozens of local women and a few men braved the elements and joined local studies staff in Dumbarton Library to hear Florence Boyle, well known to Open House readers, launch her first book on local history.  Undeservedly Forgotten is the fruit of Florence’s research into the lives of local women.

In the introduction she notes that the established narrative of this part of Clydeside, the narrow strip between the Kilpatrick Hills and the Clyde, is overwhelmingly male: shipyards and engineering, wars and sport, the occasional painter and writer. Not much left for the stories of women, she observes; but Florence has redressed the balance with her diligent search of local sources, educated guesswork and sheer enthusiasm for the task. Some of her research has appeared in previous editions of Open House: now readers can enjoy her ‘first pass’ at putting it all together.

We meet women who were artists, educators, political activists, doctors and nurses; women immigrants and heiresses from opposite ends of the social scale; and, in a short section that goes back to the 17th century, women who were unjustly accused of witchcraft.

At the book launch, Florence introduced us to her favourite character: the ‘standard bearer’, Jessie Campbell of Tullichewan (1827-1907), a privileged woman who used her influence, wealth and position to advocate for and fund women’s higher education. In 1868 she invited Professor John Nichol of Glasgow University to hold lectures for women in the MacLellan Galleries in Glasgow. This developed into the Association for Higher Education of Women, chaired by university principal Professor John Caird, with Jessie as Vice President. It became incorporated in 1883 as Queen Margaret College. Ten years later Glasgow University awarded degrees to women for the first time, and in 1901 conferred honorary degrees on Jessie and her friend Lady Elder.

Jessie and her supporters had to contend with arguments that higher education was too taxing for women, physically and mentally. Back home in Dunbartonshire, Jessie was undeterred. She supported school prizegivings, art shows and cultural occasions and hosted fundraising events to support women’s learning.

Dumbarton also had its own school of art, set up at the prompting of Thomas Simmonds (1842-1912). He became Head of Glasgow School of Art in 1881 and believed that training in design and the decorative arts would find a place in shipbuilding and engineering. This appealed to one of Dumbarton’s most famous citizens, the shipbuilder William Denny (1847-1887), who provided financial support when a fire broke out just before the opening of the new art school in Dumbarton. Its first head was Benjamin Strongman, who was succeeded by his daughter Amy, and she taught there for 40 years. She had studied at Glasgow School of Art, and when the family moved to Dumbarton, Amy won the Denny traveling scholarship twice, which enabled her to study in London. She was elected a member of the Glasgow Society of Lady Artists, established in 1882 with the aim of finding a place for women in the art world, free from the sexism they experienced in their everyday lives. This was at a time when women could not vote or graduate from university, and only a year after women had won the legal right to own, buy and sell their own property, independent of their husbands. Sadly, none of Amy’s work has so far been discovered. Contemporary reviews are glowing; somewhere, Florence suggests, in someone’s attic or in a salesroom, examples of her work are waiting to be found.

Nearby Bowling had its own arts community in the latter part of the century. Talwin Morris, design manager for Blackie the publisher, and friend of Charles Rennie Mackintosh, lived at Dunglass Castle in Bowling in the 1890s. Margaret McDonald was to leave from there on the day of her wedding to Mackintosh in Dumbarton. And it was at Dunglass Castle that Mackintosh and MacDonald created their first White Room, more famously recreated at Hill House in Helensburgh.

Florence unearths connections between the lives of local women and the better-known characters and events of history. We meet the celebrated journalist Katherine Whitehorn, who was a pupil of Old Kilpatrick teacher Ethel Barlow; and learn that the famous Burrell family who gave their name to the Burrell Collection in Glasgow lived in Bowling for over 20 years from the mid-1860s. Mary Burrell had her portrait painted by the legendary society painter Sir John Lavery.

The lesser known women who emerge from Florence’s research made a contribution to history which deserves to be better known. Much of it, as Florence acknowledges, is hidden in plain sight, their accomplishments, prizes and successes reported in local newspapers, but not considered important enough to dent the male narrative which shaped the area’s history. Sometimes, she notes, women were not even named in the birth notices of their own children. In 1868 the birth of a local boy was reported in the local paper: ‘At Bankside Old Kilpatrick on the 7th instant, the wife of the Rev James Lamb, a son’.

For the record, Florence notes, her name was Mary Fleming (born 1838), who came from Perthshire and married Rev James Lamb in 1867. Their first child, James, was born on 7 April 1868 and Mary died in Old Kilpatrick in 1904.

Undeservedly Forgotten by Florence Boyle is published by Cartsburn Publishing and costs £10.

Mary Cullen is the editor of Open House