In which I show two philosophers the real-life models for some of Malcolm Saville's Shropshire locations

As well as visiting new places, you can fight off holiday nostalgia by meeting new people. For all its faults, this is something that social media has made easier. 

So it was that I found myself outside Church Stretton Co-op waiting to meet two philosophers from Crete. We had arranged for me to give them a tour of some of Malcolm Saville's Shropshire locations.

The philosophers were Keith Frankish and Maria Kasmirli, who also brought their young teenage daughter Matea. I have got to know Keith on Twitter over the years through a shared affection for Malcolm Saville's books. 

The first location we went to was Hamperley Farm, the Ingles Farm of Saville's Lone Pine stories. You can see it in the photo above, which is by Keith Frankish.

Malcolm Saville describes Ingles Farm in Mystery at Witchend, the first Lone Pine book:

Ingles' farm was not very big, but the farmhouse of red brick was well set back from the road with a big lawn on the right and cowsheds on the left.

The real farm isn't red brick  and, though there is a lawn, it's on the left as you face it. I was surprised that there was a lawn at all, because it's not there on the photos I took of the farm when I was last here in 2012 nor even on Google Street View today - a clear case of Shropshire being "more like it was now than it was then".

And, just as happened to the twins in Mystery at Witchend, we got asked inside. I can reveal that the farmer's family name is Foulkes, but he does have a son called Tom.

You can stay at Ingles Farm yourself. Some of the farm's outbuildings have been converted into two beautifully appointed holiday cottages and you can see them in the photos below. (Follow the link for more information.) There's even a sweet little postbox if you want to send postcards.

Then we went up the lane to the real Witchend - it's a private house, so please respect that if you ever make this pilgrimage yourself. This photo was taken on a sunnier day than the one we had.

After that we went around the southern end of the Long Mynd and then north through Wentnor (where the Crown is currently closed) and on to the Bridges Inn at Ratlinghope for a pot of tea.

This is the pub that featured in The Green Green Grass, while Malcolm Saville fans will know it as the Hope Anchor from the second Lone Pine book, Seven White Gates. Again this is a picture from a sunnier day when it was still called the Horseshoes Inn and looked shabbier than it does today.

Then is was up to the Stiperstones ridge.

 I once heard a talk by Malcolm Saville's younger son the Revd Jeremy Saville in which he said he was pretty sure his father hadn't visited the Stiperstones when he wrote Seven White Gates. Even so, it's quite possible that Malcolm was right to paint the way from the pub to the Stiperstones as a rough, stony track rather than the metalled road it is today.

As we approached the car park near the Stiperstones ridge, we found that the Devil was in his chair - as the locals are supposed to say when the rock formation the Devil's Chair is obscured by cloud. By the time I took this photo, you could see it was going to clear from the west.

At this point I had better to pause to thank Maria for all the driving - the A roads in south Shropshire are single carriageway with lots of lorries, and the minor roads can be narrow and hilly. Not least the road we then took along the western side of the Stipersones through Stipersones village and Snailbeach, which has hairpin bends. And so we got back to Shrewsbury.

Thanks to Maria and Keith for their company - I even found time to talk philosophy with them too.

Amy Boucher on The Devil in Shropshire

Folklorist Amy Boucher shares tales of ghosts, witches, mermaids and devils from her home county of Shropshire in The Devil in Shropshire, the latest episode of the Tracing Owls podcast,

Through her blog Nearly Knowledgeable, Amy explores Shropshire folktales that highlight the county's unique cultural and historic identity and also an immense amount of high strangeness. 

Among the many tales discussed are stories of ghost barges carrying victims of the Black plague, encounters with the Devil (known in Shropshie as Owd Scratch) and the life of the last known Shropshire sin eater. Amy ends the episode off with tales of a horse-riding spectral ape man.

Sending an Easter message in the Shropshire Hills

'Prominent' crosses installed on Shropshire hill to send powerful Easter message

So says the headline in the Shropshire Star over this story:

Three gigantic Christian crosses are sending a powerful Easter message from the top of a Shropshire landmark. 

For the second year running St Margaret's Church, in Ratlinghope, has organised to get the 15ft and 10ft crosses planted as a beacon on top of Ratchup Hill.

They are visible for many miles around and will be the focus of Easter services at the church.

Mike Barnbrook, speaking on behalf of the church team, said: "They are very visible and can be seen from quite a distance and are a very prominent part of the landscape.

"The reason for it is because it is Easter, when Jesus was crucified on the cross. We want people to remember the real reason for Easter." 

I love the churchyard at Ratlinghope, but I sometimes wonder how deep the roots of Christianity reach here.

As D.H. Lawrence said, The Stiperstones are:

one of those places where the spirit of aboriginal England still lingers, the old savage England, whose last blood still flows in a few Englishmen, Welshmen, Cornishmen.

In fact, I always used to be a little relieved if the locals didn't sacrifice me to their pagan gods in the course of the weekend.

Which is why I think the photo above, which I took at Ratlinghope, gives a better idea of worship in this part of the county.

The Shropshire Hills shuttle bus service is cut again

I will get back to the Shropshire hills soon - if not this summer, then next. And when I do I shall use my favourite buses - the Shropshire Hills Shuttle.

They used to be called the Secret Hills Shuttle, but I guess the hills are better known these days. If they are not, it's no fault of mine.

I can remember when three different routes were timed to coincide at The Bridges pub at Ratlinghope, giving visitors a wonderful choice of destinations.

In 2012 it was possible to reach Much Wenlock, which has some claim to be the cradle of the modern Olympic movement, and I can recall dropping in on Aardvark Books at Brampton Bryan, which is in Herefordshire.

As in recent years, in 2022 there is only one route. And it has been cut back.

I can see why this has been done. Once the bus left Snailbeach and the remains of its lead mine, the ride back to Church Stretton was scenic but did not pass through anywhere people were likely to want to alight.

Now the bus turns back at the Stiperstones Inn (where I once posted a Britblog Round Up), which means it does not even reach Snailbeach.

I trust I shall still be able to walk there from the Stiperstones Inn (sorry if this is getting technical), but there are many people who cannot.

The decline in this bus service, which allows people access to these lovely hills without a car, is a measure of our decline as a nation since I stated vising the Shropshire hills 36 years ago.

Here endeth the first lesson.

A wicker rabbit

I miss the Shropshire hills.

Jets over the Stiperstones

News reaches me from Shropshire that people living in and around the Stiperstones are being plagued with noise from passenger jets.

Peter Phillips, the doyen of Shropshire Liberals, says:

"From about 6 in the morning till 9.30 there is a constant stream of planes. As they take quite a few minutes to pass over, one is seldom free from their noise. Through the day, with less frequency, this continues and then another 'rush hour' in the evening."

The planes, which are not visible, are flying from north to south.

Peter suggests that this is a result of the governments total liberalisation of flight paths as the planes were previously routed over the Irish Sea.

The Conservative MP for the area has so far been less than responsive, but Worthen's Liberal Democrat councillor Heather Kidd is on the case.

Who knows? This may come to rival the Ratlinghope potholes as an issue in the Bishop's Castle by-election.

Lib Dem lifetime achievement award for Peter Phillips

Peter Phillips, the former Liberal Democrat councillor for Bishop's Castle, has received a lifetime achievement award from the West Midlands region of the party.

Its secretary, Kathryn Ball, spells out his achievements:

Peter Phillips first stood for election in 1973 and joined the parish council in 1979. He fought the Bishops Castle (Shropshire) seat 3 times before finally being elected. He toppled the Tories who have never taken it back since 1993. 

Chirbury and Worthen Unitary Division was part of his Shropshire County Council Division and has also remained Lib Dem since his stewardship. 

He served on Shropshire County Council between 1981 and 1985 before spending a period overseas. He continued to send out Focus from the Middle East!! 

On his return he was re-elected to Shropshire County Council in1993. He also served on the former South Shropshire District Council from 1995 until its abolition to make way for the unitary authority in 2009. Peter was then elected to the Unitary Shropshire Council. 

He served as leader of the group and Vice Chairman of both Shropshire County Council and South Shropshire District Council. 

He has served both as Ludlow Constituency chairman and Bishops Castle branch chairman several times. He has been a huge fund raiser for the party locally running jumble sales, table top sales and arranging visits of top Lib Dem Peers and MP’s frequently for press and fundraising. He was single-minded in making sure these things all happened for the good of local PPC’s and Council candidates. 

He has been by far the best member recruiter over the last few years. At one stage Peter recruited enough members to make Bishops Castle and Clun Branch top our membership in Ludlow Constituency – we had 100 members.

I once met Peter in the pub now known as The Bridges at Ratlinghope, but don't seem to have blogged about the experience.

The old forge at Bridges in Shropshire

This is the old forge at next to the Bridges pub at Ratlinghope in Shropshire. It has long been a favourite near ruin of mine, but when I was there last week there were planning application notices up for its restoration and conversion into holiday accommodation.

Oh well, maybe I can stay there one day.

The burning of the Ratlinghope wicker man

Last month I blogged that a 30ft wicker man was to be burnt as part of the Sin-Easter Festival, which is held at Ralinghope in Shropshire.

I cannot embed the video, but if you follow this link you will see I was right.

30ft wicker man to be burnt in the Shropshire hills

As a frequent visitor to that part of the world, I am not wholly surprised.

The wicker man, says the Shropshire Star, will be set alight as part of the Sin-Eater Festival, which is being held at The Bridges in Ratlinghope from 21-23 June. This promises two dozen musical acts "plus morris dancing, craft workshops, music workshops, photography workshops, performance art, nature walks, films and loads and loads of real ale!"

But why is it called the 'Sin-Eater Festival'?

You're not a regular reader, are you?

The road from Bridges to the Stiperstones

After ten minutes the trees thinned out and they found themselves on the side of the mountain. The twins, who were in front, turned and looked down on the "Hope Anchor" lying below them like a little model from a toy shop.

"She's still there," said Mary. "Look, David, I think she's waving."

They waved in return, but David would not let them linger. He was not enjoying this journey very much for he was tired already and not very used to Sally. Also it was horribly hot and the path, winding steeply now between the heather, was treacherous with loose stones. And the flies were a torment to the three travellers as well as to Sally, who was fidgety and unhappy. Twice she tried to get rid of her burden by rolling and once she tried to turn in the track and go back. For a time it seemed as if the path was leading them away from the Chair and Mary complained that it was a magic mountain.

"Anyway," her twin said, "it's a beastly mountain, and I don't like it, and I wish we hadn't come. I hate it.... An' it's hot and I want three more ginger pops."

"Silly we were about Alpine guides," Mary added. "David, we're going to stop! We're tired.... An' it's no use you lookin' grumpy like that."

"Stranger!" said Dickie unexpectedly, recalling his recent experience of the cinema. "Say, stranger, we're quittin'! We're through," and they sat down in the heather."

Malcolm Saville, Seven White Gates, 1944

I don't agree with David Morton. The road up from Bridges to the Stiperstones ridge has long been one of my favourite walks. Yes, it is a hard climb at first, but after that you feel yourself being lifted up amongst the hills with little effort on your part.

But then I have never had to attempt it with a recalcitrant Welsh mountain pony and a pair or irritating nine-year-old twins.

I walked this road again on Saturday after leaving Bridges. The "Hope Anchor" of Seven White Gates, incidentally, is clearly the pub that is today called The Bridges.

It is easy to believe that the road, which today is metalled but largely unfenced, was in 1944 a stony track. And perhaps the grazing for sheep on either side of the road today was given over to heather in those days.

Except that when I heard Malcolm Saville's younger son, the late Revd Jeremy Saville, speak some years ago, he said that he was pretty sure that his father had never visited the Stiperstones when he wrote Seven White Gates and that its landscapes and character owed most to the novels of Mary Webb.

More about the great man at the Malcolm Saville Society website.

Bridges Youth Hostel and Lady Mahlah Addyes Scott

Just around the corner from The Bridges pub stands the youth hostel. According to a leaflet I collected there it was built as a school for the children of her employees by Lady Mahlah Addyes Scott, Lady of the Manor of Wentnor and Ratlinghope, in 1866.

The leaflet suggests that she wanted to encourage her workers to stay with her rather than "join the drift to the factories of Industrial England".

It goes on to say that there turned out not to be enough children in the area to support a school. This is hardly surprising. Bridges is barely a hamlet and Ratlinghope is barely a village. After being left largely unused for some years, it became on of the country' first youth hostels in 1931.

You can read more about the remarkable Mahlah Addyes Scott on the Cradley Links website. She built another remarkably ornate school in the nearby village of Norbury - it is pictured on the Cradley website - which is still open today as Norbury Primary School. It must be the primary that any children who live in the empty country between the Long Mynd and the Stiperstones now attend.

Lady Scott died at the Royal Bath Hotel in Bournemouth, which will be familiar to Liberal Democrat Conference representatives, in 1907 after a carriage accident in the street outside. She is buried at Ratlinghope Church, which will be familiar to readers of this blog.

The Bridges, Ratlinghope

After Stiperstones I got back on the bus to go round to Bridges. The pub here used to be called The Horseshoes and when I first went there it was, rather improbably, an Adnams pub. It is a long way from the Stiperstones to the Suffolk coast.

Now it has been renamed The Bridges and taken over by the people who run the Three Tuns Brewery in Bishop's Castle.

The pub has been thoroughly refurbished - the bar is now in its third different position since I first visited it some 15 years ago - and every table inside had been booked for Sunday lunch. But this did not matter as it was a sunny day (though look at that sky) and you can sit outside. In fact the best place to sit is the other side of the lane by the stream.

I am not an expert on the pub trade, but if you have bikers and pony trekkers drinking at the same time, you are probably doing all right.

And you will find a better selection of Three Tuns beers at The Bridges than you will even at the Three Tuns itself.

The grave of Richard Munslow, the last sin-eater, at Ratlinghope has been restored

Earlier this year I visited Ratlinghope and the grave of the last sin-eater in England.

The BBC News Shropshire pages report that the grave has now been restored and that there will be a service at Ratlinghope this afternoon to mark the event.

The Ratlinghope sin-eater

"I give easement and rest now to thee, dear man. Come not down the lanes or in our meadows. And for thy peace I pawn my own soul. Amen."

This is the grave of the Munslow family in the churchyard at Ratlinghope in Shropshire. Richard Munslow is said to have been the last 'sin-eater' in the area.

A sin-eater attended the funerals of those who had died unprepared to meet their maker. By eating bread and drinking ale, and by making the short speech above at the graveside, he took upon himself the sins of the deceased.

Richard Munslow died in 1906. There is more about his grave and plans to restore it on the BBC website. The text of the sin-eater's speech comes from Shropshire Gallery.

Ratlinghope is a beautiful green bowl in the hills and there are swallows (or are they swifts?) nesting in the church porch. You can also hear the curlews on the hills above.

Later. The grave has been restored since I took this photograph.

Unexploded World War II bomb found at Ratlinghope

This is what people buy the Shropshire Star for:

Workmen digging at a Shropshire farm uncovered a World War Two bomb believed to have been dropped by German airmen more than 60 years ago.

Bomb experts exploded the device in a field near the farm in Ratlinghope last night after it was dug up during conversion work. The site of the bomb is where the popular Farmer Phil’s Music Festival is held each year.

A couple of thoughts.

This makes the achievement of Pussywillow in living to the age of 26 all the more remarkable.

Mystery at Witchend, the first of Malcolm Saville's Lone Pine stories, revolved around a German attempt to undermine the Allied war effort by blowing up a reservoir in a valley of the Long Mynd. This has always seemed rather optimistic to me, but maybe they really did see rural south Shropshire as a key theatre of war.

Shropshire Cat of the Day

Well done to Pussywillow who lives in Ratlinghope and is still "sharp in her mind and her eyes" at the age of 26.

Ratlinghope is pronounced "Ratchup". I assume that Pussywillow is pronounced as it is spelt.