peter barker design

The Wrekin — Shropshire’s birthstone

This article was published in Heritage – the British Review (published in the USA as Realm) and a revised version in Country Walking.

Tapestry

The Wrekin’s story is a tapestry of fact and fable — swashbuckling giants with short tempers, an invasion fleet of Spanish galleons sailing into the English Channel and a pool of tears that never dries are just some of the images interlaced from its thread of fact and fable.

Thrusting from the plain of north Shropshire like a shark’s fin, the 1,335 feet high hill is composed of volcanic, pre-Cambrian rock. It was squeezed up from the underlying sandstone while the area was submerged beneath the ocean. Thanks to the hill’s isolated situation the views from its summit are more expansive than its height would indicate.

On a summer Sunday the Wrekin is a popular spot: the top can be reached in around half an hour’s walk from the Forest Glen on the Wellington-Ironbridge road. On a weekday evening though, just before sunset, the Wrekin’s summit is usually peaceful. The sun, low on the horizon, throws the hills of the border country and, given clear conditions, of distant Snowdonia, into sharp relief. At such times there is a feeling of magic and an uncanny sense of the spirit of long departed ancient Britons, especially when the plain of the meandering Severn is blanketed with a layer of mist which laps up to the feet of Caer Caradoc, the Long Mynd and Wenlock Edge.

During the Iron Age the Wrekin was the site of a fort built by the ancient Britons high above the dense forest that covered the area. The fort was probably the capital of the Cornovii, who controlled the central and north western part of the region. The remains of the inner and outer walls of this ancient fort, dating from about 200 BC are still evident. Archaeological excavations on the northern side of the site have revealed the post holes of timber buildings measuring about 10 feet square. Archaeologists have estimated that the population of the 10 acre site may have numbered a thousand or more. At the south western end of the fort a low circular mound, probably a barrow from the Bronze Age, suggests even earlier habitation.

Romans on the Wrekin

By AD 50 the Romans, using the line of what was to become Watling Street as the main artery of their advance, had reached the Severn. A military base was established five miles to the west of the Wrekin. The Cornovii were eventually subjugated and by the end of the second century had left their hill-top home for the impressive and flourishing city Viroconium Cornovium, the site of present day Wroxeter.The city boasted a forum, shops, public baths and gymnasia with heated rooms.

Legends

The Wrekin abounds in legends. One story has it that the hill was built by two giants as a fortress for themselves, from earth they dug out leaving the bed of the River Severn. After they had built their stronghold they quarrelled. One of the giants was killed and his grave formed the Wrekin’s neighbouring hill, the Ercall.

Another legend tells how a different — but equally quarrelsome — giant decided, because of a grudge he held against its people, to flood the town of Shrewsbury by damming the Severn with a great load of earth that he carried from his home in Wales. After losing his way he met a cobbler carrying a sack full of boots and shoes. The cobbler, realising that the giant was up to no good, told him he was still far from Shrewsbury. Showing him his sack of worn footwear, he told the giant he had worn out all these boots and shoes walking from the town. The giant, in disgust, threw down his load of soil, forming the Wrekin, scraped his boots on his spade, leaving the Ercall and stormed off back to Wales.

Beacons

In 1588 the Wrekin provided an essential link in the chain of beacon fires which flared as a warning that the long expected Spanish Armada had at last been sighted. Throughout the night and throughout the land the unwelcome news was transmitted from hill-top to hill-top — “Till streamed in crimson on the wind the Wrekin’s crest of light.”

As the great Beacon roared into life an army of local men set off to march to London. By the time they reached the capital, though, the Spanish fleet had been ravaged by storms and the threat of invasion was averted.

More recent times have seen beacons flare again: in 1977 the nation-wide chain of communication was re-lit as part of the celebrations for the Queen’s Silver Jubilee and at the turn of the 21st Century a private party was held by the owners of the hill to welcome in Year 2000.

In 200????? the Wrekin was put up for sale.

Roaming on the Wrekin

At the north eastern end of the hill the road from Wellington to Ironbridge crosses the saddle between the Wrekin and the Ercall. Here, at the junction with the road to the M54 and Shrewsbury is the start of the broad, tree-lined track. The way is closed to unauthorised vehicles now, but in the days of Britain’s thriving motorcycle industry, the hill echoed to the growl of engines as the Villiers factory, based in Wolverhampton, 20 miles away, used the hill as a test track for the trials machines produced there. During the Silver Jubilee celebrations in 1977 an Austin Seven was driven (and man-handled) to the summit.

Behind lies the rounded, thickly wooded hump of the Ercall, bitten into by an ugly quarry. Beyond the Ercall the market town of Wellington spreads to meet the outlying villages of Wrockwardine and Admaston and the sprawl of Telford.

Within a few hundred yards the track makes a sharp right bend and reaches a house on the right with a small cafe at the rear. After passing through a gateway our path then wends to the left and climbs to a level saddle. Soon we are above the tops of the deciduous woodland of the lower slopes and the view opens out spectacularly. On our right, to the northwest, the Shropshire plain stretches like a snooker table to the ragged crest of Breidden Hill, 37 miles away.

To the southeast, plumes of condensed steam from the cooling towers of Buildwas power station mark the head of the wooded gorge of Ironbridge — the birthplace of the Industrial Revolution

Before us rises a steeper section to the summit. To the right of the final rise the modern day version of a beacon, the television transmitter mast, pierces the sky.

As we approach the top of the hill we pass through narrow gaps in what remains of the ancient earthworks around the Iron Age camp. The gaps are known as Hell Gate (the lower) and Heaven Gate.

Adjacent to the triangulation point is a toposcope, erected by the Rotary Club of Wellington to commemorate the 1977 Jubilee, indicating the directions and distances to the surrounding points of interest. On a clear day the 3560-feet summit of Snowdon is visible 70 miles away.

By now it’s time for another legend. In front of us lies a strangely cleft rock known as the Needle'#146;s Eye. The story tells of a spectacular battle between — yes, you’ve guessed it — two giants. One struck at the other with a spade, missed, and split the rock. A raven then attacked him, pecking at his eyes. The giant’s tears formed a pool known as the Raven’s Bowl, which lies at the top of the Bladder Stone, a large rocky outcrop to the left of the path, and is said never to dry up.

Before us the intricate geology of the border country unfolds: to the south west, like a wave frozen solid on the green shore of Apedale, runs the 15-mile limestone escarpment of Wenlock Edge. Beyond the Edge’s sylvan crest rise the Clee Hills: Brown Clee — the highest point in Shropshire at 1800 feet — and Titterstone. Beyond the Clees lie the rounded humps of the Malverns.

The broken range of Ragleth Hill, Hazler Hill, Helmeth Hill, Caer Caradoc and the Lawley, composed of the same volcanic lava and ash as the Wrekin, rises jagged before the dark moorland sweep of the Long Mynd. The line of the Mynd is continued awway towards the border by the harsh quartzite ridge of the Stiperstones.

To the west beyond the snaking loops of the Severn and the county town of Shrewsbury rises the sharp peaked ridge of the Breidden Hills marking the farthest reaches of Shropshire and the border with Montgomeryshire.

After passing the Needle’s Eye the view is soon lost as the path plunges steeply through pine woods before turning left and skirting what can be a muddy way around the lower slopes, through thick woodland on the south of the hill.Soon we reach the main path and follow our original footsteps back to the road.

More than just a tree-covered lump of volcanic rock, the Wrekin, with its spectacular view over 12 counties, is the undisputed landmark of Shropshire — honoured in the rallying toast of exiled Shropshire folk: “All friends round the Wrekin”.