Nooks and Corners of Shropshire Part 24

There are said to have formerly been three other towers at Wattlesborough Castle, but that they were pulled down to provide stones for building the Loton Chapel, at Alberbury. Be that as it may, the Castle certainly seems to have covered more ground at one time; and the sites of two moats, a watch-tower and drawbridge, are pointed out in an orchard on the western side of the farmhouse.

[Ill.u.s.tration: Wattlesborough Castle.]

Planted upon an outlying spur of the Breidden Hills, Wattlesborough must have held a position of some strategic importance, controlling with Alberbury Castle the pa.s.ses of the Severn, and the road into Wales between this and Caurse Castle.

Of its history, so far as we are aware, there is little to be said. A Fitz-Corbet held Wattlesborough under Roger de Montgomery, at the time of Domesday Survey. In after years the Castle pa.s.sed to the de la Poles, and the de Burghs, coming eventually by marriage to the Leighton family, whose property it remains to this day. Wattlesborough is reputed to be one of the few estates which have never been bartered for 'filthy lucre,' since the days when the Normans first lorded it over English land.

With shadows lengthening before us, we now set our faces towards Shrewsbury. Half an hour's tramp brings us near Rowton Castle, the Rutunium, as some a.s.sert, of Roman days. Then we catch a glimpse of Cardeston Church away to the south, and presently pa.s.s under the viaduct which carries the defunct Potteries line across the highway. Ford village, whose church boasts a fine old roodscreen, is but a mile distant towards the north, with Shrawardine castle-mound keeping it in countenance on the farther bank of Severn.

[Ill.u.s.tration: The Shelton Oak.]

On past Dunthall and Onslow Hall, the erstwhile abode of the renowned Mr. Speaker Onslow, we bowl along the dusty highway with homeward-bound Salopians, until, some two miles short of our journey's end, we call a halt to take a look at the Shelton Oak, one of the 'lions' of the locality.

Yonder it stands, a storm-rent relic of the immemorial past, holding its own bravely yet ''gainst the tooth of time and razure of oblivion,'

though bereft of many a stalwart limb by the gales of a thousand winters.

This venerable tree still rears aloft its gaunt, grey, wrinkled branches, lifeless now, save for some ragged foliage that yet clings around the lower part of the trunk. The latter has become hollow inside, where a sort of paved chamber affords standing-room for perhaps a dozen people.

As seen in our sketch, a st.u.r.dy prop, itself a fair-sized tree, serves to b.u.t.tress the old giant upon the side towards which he inclines.

According to a time-honoured tradition, the Welsh Prince, Owen Glendower, climbed up amidst the branches of the Shelton Oak, in order to watch thence how the fortunes of war progressed during the famous Battle of Shrewsbury:

'The b.l.o.o.d.y rout that gave To Harry's brow a wreath--to Hotspur's heart a grave.'

Soon after leaving the Shelton Oak, the towers and steeples of the County-town put in an appearance ahead; here and there a country house is seen, overlooking the Severn as it winds through the vale, and bricks and mortar begin to usurp the place of trim green fields and hedgerows.

That red-brick mansion upon yonder bank is The Mount, birthplace of that very distinguished Salopian, the late Charles Darwin.

Anon we descend a hill, and enter the 'antient streete callyd Fraunckarell this many a daye,' a transpontine suburb of Shrewsbury, deriving its name from the fact that, in earlier days, its denizens were exempted from payment of certain tolls levied upon their neighbours over the water.

Across the street rises a group of half-timbered houses, whose quaint congeries of beetling gables, chequered beams, lattice-paned cas.e.m.e.nts, and dark, timeworn archways, make an old-world picture. More ancient still, perhaps, is the long, low, two-storied house front a little farther on; its ma.s.sive old moulded cornices black with age, and curious louvred lights in the upper story--a venerable specimen.

[Ill.u.s.tration: A Maiden Garland from Minsterley.]

And here at last is the Welsh Bridge, in Leland's time the 'greatest, fayrest, and highest Bridge upon Severne Streame.' At that period, as Leland tells us, the Bridge had 'six great Arches of stone, with a great gate at one end of it to enter by into the Towne, and at the other end towardes Wales a mighty stronge Towre, to prohibit Enimies to enter into the bridge.'

Old paintings and woodcuts shew it to have been an extremely picturesque structure, with bold b.u.t.tresses, and narrow, pointed arches; and a tall, machicolated tower, with frowning gateway, portcullis, and mailed figure of King Edward IV. keeping guard at the western end of the Bridge--a subject worthy the brush of a James Holland, or a Samuel Prout.

So now, with our arrival at Shrewsbury, we have completed the circuit of our Shrops.h.i.+re wanderings. The subject treated of is so wide, so varied, and of such many-sided interest, that one can do little more than scratch the ground, so to speak, within the compa.s.s of a volume such as this. But we venture to hope that the perusal of these pages may lead others to explore this pleasant land for themselves; and it only remains for us to bid farewell to the gentle reader, by whose courtesy we have rambled thus far together amidst the 'Nooks and Corners of Shrops.h.i.+re.'

[Ill.u.s.tration: Shrewsbury.]

[Ill.u.s.tration: Shrops.h.i.+re.]

THE END.