#gwlkettle

I enjoyed the Women of the Necropolis Walking Tour yesterday, organised by the Glasgow Women's Library. Glasgow Necropolis makes for a fascinating wander amongst the Victorian wealthy and powerful, and the scale of the place is stunning. Our guides from the library were Esther, Joyce, Lesley, and Christine, and they painted a lively, but also sad, picture of Victorian attitudes to death and women. They told us of the history of the necropolis, and its part of a general European shift in the hygienic suburbanisation of death. And what of the women buried there? Put concisely, the best way a Victorian woman could assure a marked stone in the cemetery was to marry a rich or powerful man, and/or be philanthropic. A number tombs of women were identified on the tour. We saw the large monument to the Elder family, including Isabella Elder (née Ure).

Left with a fortune after the death of her husband, Isabella embarked upon philanthropic work. This included buying the land for, and establishing, Elder Park. She founded Elder Park Library, and also encouraged the development of the Queen Margaret College. Ultimately this college allowed Marion Gilchrist to become the first female doctor to graduate from Glasgow University At the marker for the Jewish part of the cemetery, we heard of Deborah Ascherson, a woman buried just outside this area because she married outside the faith. We heard of Carlinda Lee, who married George Smith. Because of the large families joined in this marriage, they became known as the Gypsy King and Queen. The tombs of the Misses Buchanan of Belford, philanthropists of Glasgow, were spotted perched high upon the crest of the hill. There was the sad story of Lillias Scott (née Ure), who died in the sinking of the S.S.Orion, on her way home from Canada to begin a new life in Glasgow. John Knox was mentioned in passing, his tall monument and misogyny being hard to ignore. And there was talk of witches, and the sad case of Margaret Aitken, the Fife woman who claimed she could identify witches by something in their eyes, and thus condemned many women to their death. Eventually she was found out, an enquiry was held, and she was put to death herself. But what a mess made in scrambling for survival. The grave of Barbara Hopkirk Hill, wife of William Henry Hill, has recently been rediscovered, after spending a long time under thick ivy. Barbara produced thirteen children. (Which makes me think, 'ouch!').

Barbara was one of the first women to be interred in the necropolis. The very first was Elizabeth Miles, stepmother to the superintendent. The ivy is much removed in general since my last visit, quite a few years ago now, but remains of stumps show just how well established it had become. The plants don't care about human monuments; no respect.

It was an interesting afternoon, great to make remembrance of some of the women buried in the cemetery; to see them present in the vastness of the necropolis. And it was lovely to share some conversation with the women from the library and the people on the tour. I'm left frustrated by the gaps in my knowledge of the Victorian women, and puzzled how this angel came by a flower.