Walking in Emily Hobhouse's Footsteps

Sometimes you have one of those days that you know you'll remember for a long time. Yesterday, one of my closest friends and I spent the day at the Emily Hobhouse Museum in St Ive. We'd been looking forward to it for ages, and somehow it was even better than we'd imagined.

I'll start with a confession. I didn't take a single photograph! Honestly, I can't believe it. We were there for nearly six hours, wandering through the rectory, exploring the war rooms, strolling around the beautiful gardens and chatting to the wonderful people who work there. I was so busy taking everything in that my phone never even came out of my bag. I suppose that's a good sign really.

From the moment we arrived, we were made to feel so welcome. You book an arrival time before your visit, and the team help you plan your day so you don't miss anything. Nothing felt rushed. We could stop, read, chat and explore at our own pace, which somehow made the whole experience even more special. We even stopped for a delicious cream tea in the restaurant, where the menu includes recipes inspired by South African heritage from the late nineteenth century. It was another lovely touch that tied in beautifully with Emily's story.

Although I was born and brought up in nearby Quethiock, later lived in St Ive and was even married in the village church, I realised I knew surprisingly little about Emily Hobhouse herself. What an extraordinary woman she was. Born in St Ive on 9th April 1860, Emily Hobhouse grew up in the rectory as the daughter of the Reverend Reginald Hobhouse and Caroline Trelawny. Educated at home by governesses, she longed for more from life than was expected of women at the time. Those early ambitions would eventually take her far beyond Cornwall.

During the Anglo-Boer War she travelled to South Africa, where she witnessed the appalling conditions in the British concentration camps. Rather than turning away, she chose to act. She cared for women and children, organised aid, gathered evidence and wrote the report that exposed what she had seen. Despite criticism, arrest and deportation, she never stopped speaking out for those who had no voice. She later continued her humanitarian work, supported women's rights and campaigned for peace during the First World War. Her ashes now rest at the Women's Monument in Bloemfontein, where she was honoured with a state funeral in 1926.

It felt quite fitting to be visiting this year, one hundred years after Emily's death. A century may have passed, but so much of what she stood for still feels relevant today. Kindness. Courage. Standing up for people who don't have a voice. Those things never go out of date.

As the day went on, I found myself thinking about my own connection with this little corner of Cornwall. My family roots in Quethiock and the surrounding area stretch back to the 1700s. I couldn't help wondering whether our ancestors ever crossed paths. Did they attend the same church? Walk the same lanes? Know one another by name? Of course, there's no way of knowing, but it's a lovely thought.

When I arrived home, I picked up my copy of Victorian Village by Mary French, a history of Quethiock Parish. I was fascinated to discover that Emily is mentioned there too, which somehow made the connection feel even closer to home.

That's one of the things I love most about local history. It reminds us that extraordinary people don't just belong in history books. They lived in villages, walked familiar lanes and were part of communities much like our own.

As a writer, days like this are incredibly inspiring. I've always loved historical fiction and non-fiction, especially when they're connected to Cornwall. Every village seems to have stories waiting to be discovered, and every time I visit somewhere like this, I come home with my head full of ideas.

It was also lovely to catch up with a good friend who works at the museum. Listening to her talk about Emily with such enthusiasm made the experience even richer and reminded me how important it is that stories like this continue to be shared.

It was impossible not to notice the care that has gone into creating the museum itself. Every room, every display and every detail has clearly been thoughtfully planned and lovingly restored. Rather than simply reading about Emily's life, you feel immersed in it.

As both a local and a visitor, that made the whole experience feel even more special.

I found myself wondering how I'd reached 46 without ever really knowing Emily Hobhouse's story. I'd grown up just a few miles away, later lived in St Ive and was even married in the village church, yet somehow her remarkable life had completely passed me by. I'm so grateful that this visit gave me the chance to discover her life, her courage and the lasting impact she had on so many people. I arrived expecting to learn about a remarkable woman. I left feeling immensely proud that one of Cornwall's daughters made such an extraordinary difference to the world.

As a Cornish author, I often find myself searching for stories hidden in the places I know and love. This visit reminded me that some of the greatest stories aren't hidden at all, they're simply waiting for us to stop, listen and discover them. Emily's story is one I'll carry with me for a long time, and I have a feeling she'll inspire more than a few pages of my own writing in the future.

If you ever have the chance to visit, I'd really encourage you to go. Don't rush it. Give yourself the day. Read everything. Wander through the gardens. Ask questions. Take it all in. And, unlike me... don't forget to take a few photos (where you're allowed).

Thanks for reading,

Bren xoxo