On a pretty bench, in a peaceful park overlooking the Castle Gatehouse in Morpeth, a statue of Emily Wilding Davison sits in contemplation of the busy little town. Morpeth’s famous daughter, her name synonymous with the right to vote and the fight for equality, Emily’s ultimate sacrifice is a powerful symbol of the fight for women’s emancipation. But I often think they should have made that bench a little bit bigger – just enough to accommodate another statue – a neat little woman, dressed in a trim 1930’s suit with a look of determination in her eye. That look of determination belongs to Dorothy Robson, another formidable daughter of Morpeth. She and Emily would have had much to discuss on that park bench, both passionate for justice, both active in their desires for social change. But when it comes to famous Northumbrian ladies, Dorothy is much overlooked against Emily’s daring deeds for suffrage, or the heroic imagery of Grace Darling rowing out in the storm. Even Cissie Charlton, with that twinkle in her eye and a football at her feet, gets more of a shout-out than Dorothy. But Dorothy was a pioneering force in clearing slums and reforming public health. Her extensive memoires, held in the Archives, record her selfless efforts to help those in poverty and need. This month Northumberland Archives have been remembering the important women in our local history, so I thought it would be nice to take an admiring look into the life of this adopted Northumbrian lady, who did so much to improve the lives of working class people in and around Morpeth in the middle decades of the last century.

In our time we see a very sanitised version of Morpeth. A beautiful little town, bursting with character and a feeling of quiet affluence. Yet not 100 years ago, just off the main streets, Morpeth was a series of crowded old alleyways where families lived in poverty and squalor. Where we now shop in the elegant Sanderson’s Arcade for tasty treats at Marks and Spencer’s, the latest fragrance from the Body Shop or yet another pair of shoes from Clarks, in her day appalling slums seethed with deprivation and want. Well into the 30’s, Morpeth still had a workhouse of Dickensian awfulness. Dorothy saw it….and Dorothy was not having it!

She was an unlikely candidate to lead the fight into improving lives for south-east Northumberland’s working poor. Born into a middle-class family in 1900 and spending her sheltered formative years in a comfortable and conservative Sheffield home, Dorothy had not been prepared for the conditions and hardships of everyday life in a Northumbrian colliery town. When she followed Jim Robson, a young miner who had caught her eye, back to his Ashington home to begin their married life at the age of 19, she walked slap-bang into the turmoil and adversity of the National Strike in 1921 and the General Strike of 1926. The suffering endured by mining families in these years ignited a desire to fight for better in Dorothy. She joined the Labour Party, with which she had a long, complex and often difficult relationship. No one should underestimate the determination of this young woman to stand up to the expectations of the day – miner’s wife, poor, ‘know thy place’ – and take on the local political class who she felt did not represent those who had the greatest need – the poor, the sick, the powerless.

In time Dorothy’s family moved from the mining village of Pegswood to Morpeth and Dorothy found the plight of the town’s poor even more shocking then that of the collieries. This article does not intend to comment on the politics of the day too deeply, but Dorothy’s memoires are clear – she felt the authority was indifferent and neglectful of the poor of Morpeth who lived in terrible slum conditions, lacking the most basic of amenities such as clean water and hygienic privies, sharing their squalid living space with rats and pigeon muck.

Dorothy’s political career saw her championing a range of social issues, lobbying and petitioning to clear the Morpeth slums, to build new social housing, to improve sanitation and provide basic health services such as a public ambulance, antenatal services and child health care. Dorothy stood for election seven times, finally succeeding in 1939 as the first female and the first Labour Councillor for Morpeth Borough Council.

Her memoires are pitted with adversity, disappointment and the hostility of those that sought to obstruct her fight for social reform, but the one thing that shines through from her recollections is her unshakable need to serve, and her tireless desire to see justice and equality in a community for which she cared deeply. In the end misogynism, class prejudice and good old political machinations forced Dorothy out of the Morpeth Labour Party she had helped to create. She lost her place on the council in 1947 but remained active in local politics for the majority of her life, serving on a number of local committees and baring witness to the redevelopment of the Morpeth’s slums that she had fought so bitterly to bring about. Dorothy died in 1984 and her memoires, written between 1965 and 1977 are held in the County Archives as a testament to a time and place where the alleys and yards of Morpeth where not just the reside of pleasant retail outlets and cosy cafes.

Archive reference – NRO 10818 – DOROTHY ROBSON OF MORPETH, NORTHUMBERLAND: MEMOIRS. 1965-1977.