A Night in the Snow | Page 2

as these are sold at prices
varying from 3d. to 5d. a quart, it will be readily understood that it is by
no means impossible that the large sum of 400 or 500 pounds should
thus be realised in a single season.
The appearance of this Long Mynd mountain on the northern side,
looking towards Shrewsbury, presents no feature of striking interest,
and the ascent is a gradual one, leading chiefly through cultivated
ground; but the aspect of the south-eastern or Stretton side is wild in
the extreme, the whole face of the mountain being broken up into deep
ravines, with precipitous sides, where purple rocks project boldly
through the turf, and in many places even the active sheep and
mountain ponies can scarcely find a footing. Down each of these
ravines runs a small stream of exquisitely pure water, one of which,
near the entrance of the valley, becomes considerable enough to turn a
mill for carding wool. This stream falls over rocks at the head of the
ravine, in a small cascade of a considerable height called the Light
Spout.
Many people have lost their lives among these hills at different times,
and places here and there bear such suggestive names, as "Dead Man's
Beach," "Dead Man's Hollow," &c. The last fair, too, which is held at
Church Stretton before Christmas is locally known as "Dead Man's
Fair," several men have perished whilst attempting to return home after
it across the hill in the dark November night. No one, however, till this
winter has been lost for many years. Two drovers were the last persons
who perished here, and they lost their lives near a place called "The
Thresholds," in a deep snow which fell in April thirty-seven years ago.
The western slope of the Long Mynd is less strikingly picturesque and
more desolate, but the view from the top in this direction is the finest of
any. Almost unseen in a narrow valley at the foot of the mountain,
stand the village and church of Ratlinghope, the centre of a parish
numbering about three hundred souls only, but which stretches over

miles of mountain country, embracing a portion of the wild mining
district of the Stiper Stones. Beyond these hills the eye passes to the
Welsh mountains, and rests at last on the grand peaks of Cader Idris in
one direction, and Snowdon in the other, which may be seen in clear
weather sharply defined against a sunset sky.
Poor Ratlinghope was in sore need of some one to look after it when
the living was offered to me in September 1856. It had at that time been
left for many Sundays together without a service, the late incumbent
residing in Shrewsbury, twelve miles distant, and being frequently
prevented by ill health from coming over. There is no house in the
parish where a clergyman could live, or even procure tolerable lodgings;
and if there were, there is next to nothing, as one of the parishioners
said to me the other day, "to find coals to warm it with." It is scarcely
to be wondered at that under these circumstances, when the living
became vacant in the summer of 1856, there was no suitable person to
be found who was willing to accept so desirable a piece of preferment.
The parish of Wolstaston, of which I have the charge, and in which I
reside, is situated on high ground on the eastern slope of the Long
Mynd, i.e. exactly on the opposite side of the mountain to Ratlinghope.
Above Wolstaston the ground rises steadily for about a mile and a half
till you come to the unenclosed moorland, which stretches away for
many miles of open country, covered with heather and gorse. It was
under the circumstances that I have already mentioned that the living of
Ratlinghope was offered to me. I was aware that it would be impossible
to attend to the parish as one would wish to do, with four miles of this
wild hill country to cross between the two villages. Still, as no one else
could be found to take it, and I thought that the Ratlinghope people
might think that "half-a-loaf was better than no bread," I consented to
accept the living, and do the best I could for it; so I altered my second
service at Wolstaston from three o'clock in the afternoon to six, which
enabled me to give an afternoon service at Ratlinghope every Sunday.
I soon found, however, that the task I had undertaken was no very light
one, as the only access from Wolstaston to Ratlinghope was by
mountain tracks, over the highest part of the Long Mynd, unless indeed
one drove round the base of the hill, a distance of at least twelve miles.

The ride was pleasant