From Gloucester to Bewdley the old gravelly fords and sandy shallows have disappeared, and the “gentle art” has had to adapt itself to these changes; fish once familiar to anglers are now strangers, rarely, if ever seen on this side Gloucester; but the regulations enforced by the Severn Fisheries Commission, and the vigilance of local associations, will, it is hoped, soon be the means of repeopling the Severn with those members of the finny tribe once common to its waters.  Steam-tugs and trows, propelled by screw or paddle, now navigate the river, each with a dozen old-fashioned barges at its stern; but this portion of the Severn being comparatively free, it is a favourite breeding place with pike, who for reproductive purposes seek the stillest portions of the stream.  Dowles Ford,

at the mouth of the brook of that name, which enters the river a little above Bewdley, also Laxlane Ford, and Folly’s Ford, are each famous for their trout.

Leaving Bewdley, we pass the line of railway to Tenbury, but confine ourselves to the Valley of the Severn, along which the river and the rail are now close companions nearly all the way to Shrewsbury.  The elevation of the embankment above the river affords glimpses of Bewdley Forest, or, as Drayton calls it, the Stately Wyre.

“These scenes are desert now and bare,
Where nourished once a forest fair;
When these waste glens with copse were lined,
And peopled with the hart and hind.”

But portions of the district still are wooded, affording famous fields for botanists.  Seckley Wood comes down to meet the bold projecting rocks above the river; and we have Eyemoor Wood and others right and left on approaching Upper or Over Arley.

ARLEY,

Twenty miles from Worcester, is one of the sweetest little villages along the line.  Its ferry on the river, its timbered cottages, partially concealed in green indentations of the hill, its grey church tower, and those of the castle near, are a picture of themselves; but when showers of blossoms crown the orchard trees in spring, or ruddy fruits hang ripe in autumn, the scene is more enchanting still.

The castle tower is 120 feet in height, and commands an extensive sweep of country, through which the Severn in the distance winds its way, in and out, like a silver thread.  The gardens and grounds contain rare shrubs and trees, imported by the late Earl Mountnorris; to visit which R. Woodward, Esq., the present proprietor, like the late earl, very rarely refuses his permission.

The railway having crossed the Severn by the Victoria Bridge, an iron structure, 200 feet in span, now continues its course along the right bank of the stream, disclosing glimpses now and then of gentle sweeps and undulating lines of wood and field, where quiet tones of light and shade, with sweet harmonious tints, refresh and please.  Wandering at its own

sweet will, the river here goes freely on its way, bubbling and brawling at the fords, gathering itself up into deep, dark lakes carved out of the softer rocks over which it flows, or dividing to embrace some willow-covered island in its course.  Between Arley and Bewdley it is well stocked with grayling, dace, and that king of Severn fish, the salmon which is often taken hero; also with that “queen of fresh-water fish” the carp, speaking of which an old distich says:—

“Hops and turkeys, carps and beer,
Came into England all in one year.”

Like pike, they are long-lived; referring to which, Ben Jonson says:—

“Fat, aged carps, that run into thy net,
And pikes, now weary their own kind to eat.”

During the winter months carp are caught in broad, quiet parts of the river; in summer, in holes and reaches, under hollow banks, and near beds of weeds or flags.  All kinds of bait are recommended, but a well-scoured worm is often best.

HIGHLEY,

Or Higley, as it is commonly called, is two and a half miles from Arley.  The village is situated high upon the hill, and consists of scattered cottages, with a sprinkling of goodly

houses, some half timbered, after the quaint fashion of former times.  The church has an ancient chancel window, and in the graveyard is an old cross, elaborately carved in freestone, a material found very extensively in the neighbourhood.  Highley was an old Saxon manor, which, with Chetton, belonged to the widow of Leofric—Godiva, of Coventry celebrity.  Kinlet, four miles distant, occupies a picturesque eminence of a horse-shoe form; the church is an ancient structure, containing noble altar tombs, one of which has a rich canopy, with the figure of a knight and lady kneeling.

HAMPTON’S LOADE.

Lode was a Saxon term for ford, and the name here, as elsewhere, denotes an ancient passage of the Severn.  In this case, it was one by which the inhabitants of Highley, Billingsley, and Chelmarsh formerly passed to Quatt and Alveley.  A ferry has long been substituted, but the old load still winds along the hillside, past an old stone cross, in the direction of Alveley, an old Saxon manor.  The tall grey tower of the old church is seen from the line, occupying a high position on the right.  The building is an ancient and interesting structure, with many Norman features, and is greatly admired by antiquarians.  Judging from the materials used in older portions of the building, the first church would appear to have been built of travertine.  Above Hampton’s Loade, the wooded heights of Dudmaston and of Quatford, with the red towers of Quatford Castle, come into view; but a deviation of the line, and a deep cutting through the Knoll Sands, prevent more than a passing glimpse.  Quat is an old British word for wood, and refers to a wide stretch of woodland once included in the great Morfe Forest; and ford to an adjoining passage of the river—one, half a mile higher up, being still called Danes’ Ford.  On a bluff headland, rising perpendicularly 100 feet above the Severn, close by, the hardy Northerners, who thus left their name in connection with the Severn, established themselves in 896, when driven by Alfred from the Thames; and on the same projecting rock, defended on the land side by a trench cut in the solid sandstone, Roger de Montgomery afterwards built himself a house.

And tradition adds that, in consequence of a vow made by his second wife, Adeliza, the church close by was built upon

the borders of the forest, then the favourite hunting-ground of the Norman earl.  The church, like other neighbouring structures of ancient date, was built of tuffa, or travertine, a material found in the beds of brooks in the district, and portions of the chancel, including its fine Norman arch and pillars, are still composed of the same.  Among old endowments of the church, is one, from a source unknown, of a piece of land, the proceeds of which defray the expense of ferrying persons attending church across the Severn.

The old man at the ferry is a fisherman, who knows well where to get “a rise” of trout, or to hook a grayling, and where to look for pike, or perch, or gudgeon.

In the