As 2024 Women’s History Month draws to a close our last posting tells the story of one descendant of Hoar Oak Cottage and what happened when she tried to ‘tell her story’.
In 1990, Edna Stevens submitted her memories of her Hoar Oak Cottage grandparents for publication in the Exmoor Review. She always said that what she wrote and what was published were quite different and she’d always wanted the record put straight. At the time Edna was already an elderly woman; she had hand written her memories on simple Basildon Bond notepaper and hadn’t kept a copy. Sadly, Edna is no longer with us and won’t know that quite recently, one of her relatives, found her original letter in the Exmoor Society Archive and is now able to share it online. We hope you find what she wrote of interest.
Memories of Hoar Oak
Submitted by Edna Stevens to the Exmoor Society, June 1990
James Maxwell Johnstone was my grandfather. He came down from Scotland in Nov. 1886 to work as a shepherd for Sir Frederic Knight and later, for the Fortescue estate. Also my grandmother Sarah and their children Marion, Sam and Emily my mother. They had to live in one of the wildest and most lovely parts of Exmoor – called Hoar Oak. It was so lonely they had to be self-supporting.
In those days their wages were low, but they had a cow or two and horses – also pigs and poultry – plenty of wood and peat for fires.
Thank goodness my grandmother was a good cook – making bread, scones, cakes (Whortleberry pie and cream). Also butter and cheese. The nearest small store was at Barbrook, which was a long walk over a rough track or ride horseback to Lynton.
My grandfather was quite well educated – he taught the children quite a lot – they all worked very hard so life was never dull. He had a great sense of humour, was a very good singer, they all sang the old songs (that are still remembered today). Did the Scottish dancing. Can you imagine the impact it made with all the Scottish families getting together at Simonsbath.
My mother used to play (outdoors?). They were a large family, no money for toys in those days. They had to make their own fun. As Shakespeare said –
“Find tongues in the Trees
Books in running Brooks
And good in everything thing.”
No time for boredom, they broke in Exmoor ponies and rode the lovely hills – they also (went) past the Boundary Wall and played in the Old Cottage where years ago three or four Irish miners lived. Go on from there and get to Exe Head – Go right to the wonderful Chains. They say you don’t know Exmoor unless you have walked across them. Which I have done many times. But oh those bogs. I couldn’t do it now.
The old track that passes Hoar Oak, was used years ago by men with Pack Horses coming from Challacombe going on to Furzehill, Barbrook then Lynmouth. Before John Knight made the roads to get through from Simonsbath.
I never knew my grandfather because he died in March 1904 at the age of 50 years. He was ill only a short time and was buried at Lynton Cemetery. Later the family lived at Lynton.
For many years I have returned to Hoar Oak with my cousins and friends but now I cannot do the rough walk.
The place has been turned into an old barn, which is sad – However my friend, Miss Frances Fry has done several paintings – before it was altered – Also I have many photos. And Happy Memories of a wonderful place.
By E. Stevens.
Having sent in her letter and memories, Edna saw her contribution in print in the Exmoor Review. It had been edited to read as follows:
James Maxwell Johnstone was my grandfather. He came down from Scotland in November 1886 to work as a shepherd from Sir Frederick Knight, and later for the Fortescue estate. He and my grandmother, Sarah, had three children, Marion, Sam and Emily, my mother. They had to live in one of the wildest and most lovely parts of Exmoor, at Hoar Oak, so remote they had to be self supporting. Wages were low in those days; but the family had a cow or two, pigs, poultry, and a couple of horses. There was plenty of wood and peat for the fires. Grandmother was a good cook, making bread, scones, butter, cheese, and wortleberry pie with clotted cream. The nearest shop was at Barbrook, a long walk over a rought track, or on horseback to Lynton. Grandfather was quite well educated, he taught the children, and they all worked very hard, so life was never dull. He had a great sense of humour and sang well. They all sang the old songs and did Scottish dancing. Can you imagine the impact they made – all the Scottish shepherds’ families, getting together at Simonsbah, Scottish yarns, the Highland Fling, and the poetry of Robbie Burns, helped by a wee drap of whisky! At the end of the party they rode home on horseback in the moonlight, the horses knew where the bogs were. The old track that passes Hoar Oak was used years ago by men with pack horses coming from Challacombe, on their way to Furzehill, Barbrook and Lynmouth – that was before John Knight made the connecting roads from Simonsbath. My grandfather died at the early age of 50 and was buried in Lynton cemetery.
One can see why Edna said, ‘they didn’t print what I wrote.’ Its not clear where the additional material about Scottish shepherds having parties in Simonsbath came from but it’s the two omissions which are fascinating. Edna references Shakespeare’s play As You Like It and in using the well-known quotations about ‘Find tongues in trees’ and ‘Books in running brooks’ Edna captures beautifully how the Hoar Oak Cottage shepherd families lived in step with nature. Nowadays a modern aspiration. Then a simple fact of how life was lived. How I wish for one more conversation with Edna to ask about that quotation. The second omission is Edna’s reference to her friend and artist Frances Fry and her paintings of Hoar Oak Cottage made before the cottage was dismantled by the Exmoor National Park Authority. The Friends of Hoar Oak Cottage have started to try and find these Frances Fry paintings.
As the last contribution for 2024 Women’s History Month, the Friends of Hoar Oak Cottage hope that in telling Edna’s lost story another bit of untold history about the cottage – the place and its people – can be shared and interesting new lines of investigation pursued. Who knows what there will be to report in 2025!
