WHEN the writer Margaret Oliphant died in 1897, one of her biggest fans sent a wreath of white roses to her funeral as "a mark of admiration and respect."
The grieving admirer was none other than Queen Victoria, an avid reader of Oliphant's best-selling novels.
The Queen had not only devoured Oliphant's prodigious literary output, she had invited her to take tea at Windsor Castle. But this Royal sea
l of approval belies Margaret Oliphant's humble origins - and her tragic personal life.
The daughter of a clerk, Oliphant was born Margaret Wilson in the mining town of Wallyford, East Lothian, in 1828. The family moved to nearby Lasswade, and then to Glasgow and Liverpool.
She showed a talent for writing at a young age and, encouraged by her mother, completed her first novel,
Christian Melville, at 16, although it would not be published for another 12 years. Her first published work came when she was 21, in 1849, the successful novel
Passages in the Life of Mrs Margaret Maitland.
Oliphant was soon writing to support her family, a pattern that would continue throughout her life. She would go on to produce more than 100 novels and short stories, and some 200 contributions to the respected
Blackwood's Magazine. Her astonishing work-rate was almost certainly motivated not only by personal ambition but also by the threat of extreme hardship.
In 1852, she married her cousin Francis Oliphant, a stained-glass designer, but the union was cut short by his death from tuberculosis seven years later. The young widow was left with two children to support, with another on the way, and debts of £1000 to repay – a huge sum at the time. She is reputed to have told her publisher, bluntly: "I must work or die."
Few women could have risen to such a tough challenge, but Oliphant threw herself into writing – earning enough to support her brothers, one a reputed drunk and the other a financial failure.
By the 1860s, Oliphant was gaining popularity and commanding fees of around £1500 for novels, including
The Perpetual Curate, and was able to move from a cottage in Liverpool to a smart house in London. Her
Chronicles of Carlingford, a series of novels dealing with Scottish life, and including the popular volume
Miss Marjoribanks, sold particularly well.
Surprisingly her peers were unimpressed with her writing – she was satirised by both Anthony Trollope and Henry James – and one critic suggested she had sacrificed any chance of writing a good novel "because she wished to send her boys to Eton." The money she spent on school fees might be considered a waste – she outlived both boys, Cyril and Francis, who died in their 30s after leading dissolute lifestyles.
Oliphant's literary reputation has suffered as a result of her prolific output. She wrote quickly and out of financial necessity, and critics have suggested that while her writing was readable, quantity came at the expense of quality.
But then Oliphant herself was under no illusions about her literary contribution. Comparing herself to
Jane Eyre author Charlotte Bronte, she said: "I don't suppose my powers are equal to hers - my work to myself looks perfectly pale and colourless beside hers - but yet I have had far more experience and a fuller conception of life."
Dr Anne Scriven, of Glasgow University's Department of Scottish Literature, completed her doctorate thesis on Oliphant's work. She says Oliphant retained "a deep attachment" to Scotland that is clear in her writing.
"Her story
The Library Window, for example, which forms part of her
Stories of the Seen and Unseen, offers a critique of the position of the creative female mind amid the constraints of Victorian gender norms, a comment on the patriarchal Scottish literary world and an obvious familiarity with the cultural life of Scotland," she says.
"While a great admirer of [Sir Walter] Scott, Oliphant departed from his romantic view of Scotland, particularly in her novel
Kirsteen with her questioning of the marginalised place of Scottish single woman."
Scriven adds: "While not initially a supporter of female suffrage (and for this has been miscast as anti-feminist), Oliphant later asserted her scorn on the absurdity of women not having the vote.
"That Oliphant was on the side of strong women is hardly surprising. Widowed after only seven years of marriage, Oliphant's writing was the means of sustenance for her three children and also for her nephew and two nieces. Her greatest sorrow came from the early deaths of all her own children and nephew."
Ironically some critics have suggested that Oliphant's best work was her autobiography, as her life was more colourful than most of her novels, most of which are now out of print.
If not an outstanding novelist, there is no doubt that Oliphant was a great Victorian woman. As
The Times wrote in her obituary: "No woman, and perhaps no writer of either sex, has been so long and so intimately associated with the literature of the Victorian era."
More than a century after her death, her life has at last been recognised in her home town. A plaque has been erected outside Wallyford Community Centre to commemorate her life, ensuring that she is lifted from obscurity, at least in the place of her birth.
A memorial stone for Oliphant now appears in St. Giles' Cathedral, Edinburgh. At the unveiling, noted author JM Barrie declared Oliphant "the most distinguished Scotswoman of her time".
