Jack Mytton's Way
- ronniesramblings
- Sep 2
- 8 min read
Part 2
We share with you Ronnie’s adventure along the Jack Mytton’s Way, a trail that winds through Shropshire’s peaceful countryside. It’s the only long-distance trail I joined my parents on, and I also wrote a short piece. I hope to weave my memories into Ronnie’s reflections to bring this journey to life. On days two and three, we journey beyond Chelmarsh and arrive in Much Wenlock, a historic market town steeped in charm, brought vividly to life by Ronnie.
The Jack Mytton’s Way is a purpose planned bridleway for walkers, cyclists and horse riders and crosses 70+ mile of the South Shropshire Hill Area of Outstanding Natural Beauty.
Day 2
We got off to a reasonably early start and walked down the track beside the reservoir and onto a green lane, through a cornfield at Chelmarsh Hall, out onto a road before turning off along another road before we stopped for breakfast.
Chelmarsh derives its name from Saxon and means chilly marsh, Celmeres was held by Radulf de Mortimer, the male of which expired when Hugh de Mortimer fell at the battle of Shrewsbury in 1403 (Glyndwr and all that!).
Both Chelmarsh and Morville (close to but not on the walk) were important enough to be mentioned in the Doomsday book. Roger de Montgomery having the manor of Membrefelde with its eighteen “berewicks” or hamlets.
Today was mostly road walking through well cultivated farmland, no strenuous hills just gentle undulating countryside. About two miles from The Croft we had a pow-wow as to the campsite for the night. We could either stop at The Croft and finish early as it was only about 2 o’clock or walk on for another ten miles to Much Wenlock (having already done about ten miles today).
Chris and I felt it was probably a bit much for AM and she seemed relieved at our decision to stop early! We duly arrived at The Croft. We had several lazy hours lounging around in the tents, the only exercise was when we took it in turns to open the gate into the yard for the tractor and trailer bringing in straw bales from the fields, there was a steady hum from the corn drier which we were afraid would keep us awake during the night. During the afternoon Chris had quite a chat with the farmer and his wife who said that they had very few people staying overnight and they thought the Way was hardly ever used as a walking trail or bridle way.
Day 3
Again, we were up early much to AM’s amazement! The route again followed a road until we reached Roundhill Farm where we went up a track which was quite cool under the shade of the trees but wet underfoot and into Shirlett High Park, a large wood part of the Willey Estate owned by the Forester Family since 1748.
The family must have made their money through iron foundry because John Wilkinson worked at the Willey furnaces here. He made a series of historic breakthroughs including the first use of a Boulton and Watts steam engine for iron making the first use of steam forge hammers. He also invented a machine which carried a cutting tool on a rotating bar through the middle of the roughcast work-piece, thus improving the bore of cannon and by inventing this the first boring machine helped Watt to make better cylinders for his steam engines.
The first iron boat was also built here and launched at nearby Willey Wharf on the River Severn. However, walking through the wood today you would not know that all this activity had taken place here, apparently there is little trace of the iron foundries except for a few slag heaps and furnace pools. It was a reminder that this area of Shropshire was once part of the Black Country, an industrialisation of the area in the 19th century. Hard to believe today when reverted to woodland.
We had a serious session of rucksack swapping during this first part of the walk, first we started by adjusting straps on mine, then AM complained about hers and before very much longer after much strap adjustments, shuffling and generally beating things into submission we all thought we were comfy with them, eventually I swapped mine with Chris who then swapped it for AM’s and became the only one not entirely happy with the burden on his back. Ky was oblivious to the panniers he was wearing!
Eventually we came out of the woods and did some more road walking, soon stopping for coffee and breakfast, more road before turning off across some fields, one of which had a crop of peas which AM and I munched, they were more than ready for harvesting! We passed Barrow church which is said to have an unusual grave stone cast in iron which perhaps is not so unusual if there was a foundry close by at Willey and apparently John Wilkinson, who lived at Brosely two or three miles away, had wanted to be buried in a cast iron coffin, whether or not he did, I don’t know. Coming out onto a road we had our first serious difficulties with navigation, the directions were unclear and the way mark only pointed back the way we had come, was it right and downhill or left and uphill to Much Wenlock? We chose left which proved to be right! We followed the road to Farley Crossing Cottage where we turned off to follow the disused railway line into the outskirts of Much Wenlock.
Much Wenlock seemed a pleasant busy sort of place in the sun, it has a pleasant market place under the arches of the 16th century Guildhall and a nice square with a clock and benches. As the benches were all taken we made ourselves comfortable on the steps, while Chris and I went off to find some lunch, it was very pleasant relaxing and eating our lunch sitting in the sun and watching the world go by.
Mary Webb lived at The Grange, Much Wenlock as a child and wrote of it that it was “a Rip Van Winkle of a borough” that had fallen asleep “and if you should wonder at the fashion of its garments, you must remember that it had not, since the day it fell asleep, changed its coat, its hosen or hat”. (Linda Davies, Mary Webb Country, Palmers Press 1990). Take away the modern cars and you could probably say the same, the architecture is a delightful mix, of this and that and the other, medieval, Georgian, brick and wood, black and white.
Having finished lunch Chris was eager to be up and away and rushed into the TIC as soon as it opened after their lunch break. However, the assistant was being interviewed and photographed for some reason so while we waited, I had a quick look around the museum which contained the sort of things you can see in all local museums these days, local old artefacts of one sort or another done here quite nicely as old shops. There is a very interesting section on the life and times of Wenlock Edge, how it was formed, when and of what; what sort of plants grow and why and how it is used for agriculture etc. Eventually Chris got the information he needed on local campsites and as we walked out and across the square the heavens opened, fortunately AM had a premunition and was already dragging the rucksacks and Ky under the archway out of the rain. We made a dash to join her and waited for the rain to stop which it did eventually- we were very relived it had stayed dry while we ate and drank our rather prolonged lunch!
Much Wenlock is a medieval settlement which grew up around the convert of St. Milburga founded in the 7th century.
William Penny Brookes was born in Much Wenlock he became a doctor and was the man responsible for the Olympian movement, a revival of the ancient Greek Olympic Games and an influence on the foundation of the modern Olympic Games. He organised the first Wenlock Olympian Games in 1850 with the aim of “promotion of the moral, physical and intellectual improvement of the inhabitants of the town and neighbourhood of Wenlock, by the encouragement of outdoor pursuits”. The games included foot races, jumping events, cricket, football and quoits.
Once the rain had nearly stopped we put on our waterproofs and set off out of town, meeting a group of walkers just coming down off the Edge, their guide stopped and pleasantries were exchanged, he asked us what walk we were doing and we told him, he then asked what other long distance walks we had done and we told him, to which he replied “Well we have nothing in common then have we. I have done this walk and that walk and the other walk but none that you have done”!
It was a steady climb uphill along the ancient track way of Blakeway Hollow, unfortunately AM got caught with her knickers down!! Blakeway Hollow is an old green lane, perhaps once the main road into Much Wenlock from the Edge, it had high hedges on both sides so there were no views, going into the wood we met the first of some interesting constructions belonging to the National Trust and which are designed to keep motorbikes out and walkers etc in. We were now on a modern forest track with trees on both sides so again no views (Blakeway Coppice), sometimes we got glimpses of fields through the trees and sometimes the sky. However, the rain had stopped and we sat on a pile of tree trunks to eat bananas, when I got off they all started sliding and my rucksack got caught up in them which resulted in several dents in my new stainless-steel flask!
Wenlock Edge is an almost unbroken limestone escarpment crossing the south east corner of Shropshire from the Wrekin to Craven Arms with many quarries and lime loving wild flowers. Callow Hill is the highest point on the Edge at 1,112 feet and has a conspicuous landmark which can be seen from the road, Flounders Folly, which was built by Benjamin Flounder in 1838 reputedly so that he could look out for ships coming into the Mersey, built on the boundary of his two neighbouring estates.
Two major landmarks just off the route we followed are Major’s Leap and Ippikin’s Rock. Royalist, Major Thomas Smallman, the then owner of Wilderhope Hall which now belongs to the National Trust and leased out to the YHA, is said to have ridden off the crag to escape the Parliamentarians in the Civil War. He survived the leap by clutching hold of a crab-apple tree, which apparently still exists. The horse was killed but the Major was able to carry his important message to the Royalists in Shrewsbury. Ippikin’s Rock is a favourite climbing venue but is famous for the robber, Ippikin, which is said to be trapped in a cave below the crag by a boulder across the entrance, he vents his wrath on any who stand on the crag and shout his name.
After a few miles of uninterrupted forest track we reached Lower Hill Farm, our campsite for the night. So far we had not been that impressed with Wenlock Edge, the views were very limited due to the trees growing on the escarpment. We were not over impressed with our campsite either, the facilities were somewhat basic to say the least and we had difficulty in finding a large flat patch for both tents.
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