I stood at the entrance to St Euny’s graveyard, Redruth, one hand on the gate and the other clutching my notebook, looking at a sea of headstones. I had come to find the place where Margaret Taylor is buried, with no real clue where to start. The cold seemed to rise up through the soles of my boots and seep into my bones. I pushed through the gate and started along the main path. Slowly, I began a sweep of each of the crests of headstones, edging along the grassy troughs in between.

Research is rarely linear, and this enquiry was no exception. Even though there seems to be an order in this narrative, it has been like piecing together a jigsaw puzzle where many of the bits are missing and the picture has faded on the box. Over the last ten months, I have looked at different archives to try and find out more about Margaret Taylor, but she has proved elusive. I have pieced together fragments of her life, mostly through the women she surrounded herself with. In finding her last resting place, I believe I can frame her story as one of enduring love and friendship.

Margaret Taylor is significant to the Museum of Cornish Life. She donated the Egyptian (and Graeco-Roman) objects to the museum – at least, they came via the dissolution of Camborne Museum in 2005. The beginning of her story, and her connection to Egypt, through Emily Paterson, is explored in a blog posted a year ago.

The Victorian woman

The thing that has piqued my curiosity the most was one of the first discoveries I made about her. In 1939, aged 81, she was living in The Manor House, Redruth with four other elderly women – Emily and Edith Swindells, Emily Paterson and Manya Seguel. All of the women were listed as being of independent financial means.

My curiosity has been driven by the question, and constant wondering – how did this elderly group of financially independent, single, women end up in Redruth, because I don’t believe that any of them were born in Cornwall.

These were Victorian women, born, raised and had their formative years during Queen Victoria’s reign when Empire and the Patriarchy was in ascendance. They were also living, in their ‘30s, at a time known as ‘fin de siècle’[i]. Perhaps they were caught in a female revolution of ‘new women’ – women who were independently wealthy, were feminist in outlook and social reformers. ‘New women’ were women in their own right, rather than in reference to a man (husband, brother, or father). Emily Paterson, I believe could be ascribed these values, and also possibly Manya Seguel. I’m not sure I have enough weight of evidence to say for the others.

I have already shared something of Emily Paterson’s life, documented in terms of her connections to the Egyptian Exploration Society (EES), and we also know that she and Margaret Taylor were close friends. In the note Margaret wrote in thanks for the wreath sent by EES on Emily’s death, Margaret wrote that she was Emily’s ‘oldest (of 57 years) and only friend.’ Theirs was a long-lasting and deep companionship.

Emily and Edith Swindells were two of the other women listed as living in the Manor House in 1939. Emily and Edith were sisters, raised in Cheshire. Emily is mentioned in the archives for taking examinations in the piano with the London College of Music, but more significantly, it is on the death of their father George Swindells that their fate is revealed. In 1887 their father, George Swindells, bought a Cotton Mill at Bollington, Chester for £75,000 in £10 shares, owned by the family members. According to the Tavistock Gazette, George died on 3 September 1897, leaving the business to his sons, but a substantial income and shares on trust to the ‘spinster sisters’ Emily and Edith. It is beguiling in itself why this would be reported in the Tavistock Gazette, but that is a research avenue I chose not to go down.

Manya Seguel is the last of the women listed at The Manor House in 1939. According to The Tatler in July 1902, Manya was a concert pianist ‘not so well known in London as she deserves to be.’ It goes on to say that she was born in Russia, having received her musical education in Vienna, and had distinguished herself in Paris. She toured widely in the 1900s, although by the time of the First World War, she seems to have stopped touring. Perhaps the women all met at one of Manya’s concerts in London, or of that society.

For most of the 1920s, Margaret was not in Redruth, although her siblings were listed at The Manor House. I wonder if she was in London – the archives have revealed that in 1930 she was in west London, living with Manya Seguel and another woman. Their neighbours were the Swindells sisters. By 1933 the four friends had all moved to The Manor House, Redruth, with Emily Paterson following in 1935.

Separated by death

In January 1940, Edith Swindells died, aged 86. As reported in the Cornish Post and Mining News, in her will she left £300 to ‘her dear friend Margaret Taylor as a small token and remembrance of many years of devoted friendship.’ Two months later, Emily died, aged 84, leaving £12,000 to her nephew according to The Lancashire Evening Post (where her nephew lived).

Emily Paterson died in 1947 and, as already acknowledged, Margaret’s sense of loss can be felt in the note sent to the Egyptian Exploration Society. Three years later, Margaret died, aged 92, leaving her entire estate to Manya Seguel. Manya continued to live at The Manor House until her death in 1966, aged 96.

Margaret’s will gives us more insight to her character. Had Manya died before Margaret, her estate was to be split between four charities – St Dunstans (for men and women blinded on War Service), The Cornwall Blind Fund (as part of National Institute for the Blind), The RSPCA, and The People’s Dispensary for Sick Animals of the Poor (founded by Mrs Dickin, Clifford Street, London). This list begs the question – why did these causes matter so much to her? Here is another research avenue, although one that will be difficult to navigate.

Devoted friends

These patterns, these traces through time, suggest the closeness of their friendship. These women had a deep connection to each other, and I believe a deep affection. Intrigued by this connection spanning decades, I started to read about friendship between women in Victorian Britain.

According to Sharon Marcus[ii], Victorian society accepted friendship between women in a way they didn’t with men. Emotional intimacy was not judged or queried. Homosexuality was made illegal between men, but it wasn’t for women. Doctors and scientists at the time thought that women were just not interested in sex, and therefore there was a presumption that there was no need to outlaw something that wouldn’t be necessary. Women could link arms, walk hand-in-hand and make declarations of love to each other in a way that was unacceptable for men. To signify long term relationships between women, whether sexual or not, it was acceptable under such banners of ‘special friend’ or ‘life friend’. This is the currency that these women have referred to each other in the whisper of their voices that have reached me through the archives, and finally at the graveyard of St Euny.

Surrounded by graves inscribed with words of devotion between husband and wife, between children and their parents, are two graves. Closest to the path is a headstone, a tall Celtic cross, hewn from granite. This marks the spot where Edith and Emily Swindells are buried. The inscription on their grave is without sentiment, but acknowledges their father, the cotton magnate, George Swindells. To the left of it is a highly polished granite tombstone with a raised cross. The inscription bears Margaret Taylor’s name.

I took a step back to view the last resting place for these eternal neighbours. Only then did I catch sight of an inscription on one side of the tombstone. Emily Paterson. On the other long side of the tombstone was the name Manya Seguel. A sob caught in my throat as I finally felt I knew what their story was.

I stood between the two graves for a long time, not knowing what to do or say. I thought about the folding of time on their lives. That in early February 1940, the four friends would have stood together to bury Edith, and then one by one, their places changed. I wondered who would have stood by the grave for Manya. I wished I had brought flowers.

In the end I knelt between them and said, ‘I see you.’

Julia Webb-Harvey

Volunteer Researcher, Citizen Curator 2020.

^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^

Grateful thanks to the team at Kresen Kernow for helping me uncover some f the details about Margaret Taylor and those at The Manor House, Redruth.

In addition to the specific footnotes, the following article by Holly Furneaux, provides a fascinating overview of the presumption about Victorian prudishness and sexuality:

https://www.bl.uk/romantics-and-victorians/articles/victorian-sexualities

---

[i] https://www.bl.uk/romantics-and-victorians/articles/daughters-of-decadence-the-new-woman-in-the-victorian-fin-de-siecle

[ii] Sharon Marcus, 2007, Between Women: Friendship, desire and marriage in Victorian England. Princeton: Princeton University Press