So whenever we use the word 'blueprint' we must think of Anna Atkins and her extraordinary, quiet achievement. And maybe we should have a wall papered in her honour, and in honour of the extraordinary, quiet but revolutionary achievements of women everywhere. The wallpaper is available here. (And the chair can be seen in the shop! Naturally, it's from John Lewis.)

This is Alaria esculenta (1848–49) from  Photographs of British Algae: Cyanotype Impressions,  now recognised as the first ever photographically illustrated book.

Anna Atkins' interests were very much of her era and 'her cyanotypes can be seen as part of the pteridomania – fern fever – that permeated Victorian Britain and found expression in everything from dresses to tea sets and fire grates. Atkins's photographs, however, transcend mere biological cataloguing and reveal in their careful  and harmonious compositions her original desire to be an artist.'

'So cyanotypes are cameraless photographs made when an object - a botanical specimen, a feather, a bit of lace - is placed under glass on chemically treated paper and left in the sun. When the object is removed and the sheet washed down, a ghost shadow remains where the light hasn't touched the paper. This process was  later adopted by architects to reproduce their drawings. It's where the term "blueprint' comes from. And it was the inspiration of Anna Atkins' (the New Statesman here).

This week on the Post we honour Anna Atkins (1799-1871) who virtually invented photography in the years 1843-54, although not photography as we know it using a camera but a method called the cyanotype process. Like Mary Anning and like the astronomer Mary Somerville, Anna Atkins was a pioneer, little known about and quickly forgotten. But what she did was extraordinary.

Goddards was built by Frederick and Margaret Mirrielees. They were introduced to 'Ned' Lutyens by Gertrude Jekyll in 1898 because they wanted to commission a small-scale charitable building  – a 'house of rest' for impoverished working women. Their own daughter 'was looked after by a  28 year-old governess and it was perhaps concerns for the difficulties of governesses, who were often unable to take holidays of any kind, that inspired them. At Goddards they created a comfortable house where a small community of single women could live for a week or two away from the hardship of their professions.' This wonderful scheme lasted from 1900-1910 when Goddards became a private house. In honour of those governesses (cf. Miss Pettigrew Lives for a Day and Alas, Poor Lady in particular) in October 2012 Persephone Books celebrated the publication of its 100th book at Goddards. A few of the current Persephone girls stayed for the weekend and several former Persephone girls came for Sunday lunch. Among all the 200 Landmarks, Goddards is the only one that was built for women; although of course every one of their houses was actually built for women. It's just that we don't mention them.

Beamsley Hospital in North Yorkshire was the creation of two outstanding daughters of the Elizabethan age: Margaret, Countess of Cumberland and her daughter and heir Lady Anne Clifford. Educated, ambitious and devoted to one another, between them they created a foundation that would offer succour to poor women for the next four centuries. Nowadays it offers succour to people needing a holiday, details here.