Illustrated Tales of Shropshire by David Paul
During the course of my researches for Illustrated Tales of Shropshire, published July 2019, I discovered many interesting and incredible tales, many of which related to the strong sense of duty which prevailed at the time. The Legend of Reverend Carr is certainly worthy of inclusion under this particular category.
The tale is told that after leaving his vicarage in Woolstaston, the rector, Reverend Edmund Donald Carr, would lead the Sunday morning service in the little church. Then, after lunch, he would set off to conduct the afternoon service on the other side of the hills at the church in Ratlinghope. This ritual continued for more than ten years, during which time the rector never once missed leading the service. Even in the heavy winter snow, the rector made his weekly journey across the hills, never once losing his way; but walking over The Long Mynd was not without its difficulties, especially when there was low cloud over the tops.
On a particularly cold winter’s Sunday in 1865, when the ground was covered with a thick carpet of snow – the worst snow for over fifty years – Rev. Carr thought that he might not be able to get over to see his parishioners in Ratlinghope. However, he decided that he would at least attempt to make the journey. After leading the service at Woolstaston his servant saddled two horses and they set off for Ratlinghope. They’d travelled less than a mile when the rector decided to send the servant back to the vicarage, saying that he would continue on foot. It was obvious that the horses couldn’t cope with the deep snow drifts.
Struggling on, the rector sometimes found himself up to his thighs in snow, and on more than one occasion he had to crawl on his hands and knees. After de-icing his clothes a few times and taking a number of well-earned rests on the four-mile journey, he did eventually reach the tiny hamlet of Ratlinghope. The few parishioners who attended the service were more than surprised to see him and begged him to stay overnight, but he declined the offer, saying that, apart from anything else, he had to return to lead evensong at Woolstaston Hall. As Rev. Carr was climbing out of the village a great storm blew up, but he continued on his journey, endeavouring to keep to his route. At length he came to a slope that was unfamiliar to him, and, seconds later, he found himself sliding down the side of the Long Batch. Although he tried to break the fall, he was powerless to stop himself from careering into the rocks below. Digging his heals into the snow, he eventually came to a halt just before reaching the rocks. When he did manage to stand up, he realised that he was completely lost, the snow was even deeper than it had been earlier, he was hungry, and it was going very cold as night was drawing in. His plight became even worse when he fell again, losing his hat and gloves.
As morning approached, he still could not tell where he was. He also realised that during the long night he had become snow-blind. Collecting his remaining energy and senses together, Rev. Carr then heard a flowing stream which he proceeded to follow down and, although he didn’t know it at the time, it was the stream above Light Spout Hollow, and what the good rector was unaware of was the fact that, rather than proceeding along the path of the stream, he was in fact encircling the waterfall. Then, just when he was thinking that the situation could not become any worse, he actually lost his boots!
Lying in a deep snowdrift the rector thought that his earthly life was fast drawing to a close, when he heard the sound of children playing in the snow. He managed to raise his head, and was recognised by one of the children. They helped him to a nearby cottage before he was taken to be examined by a doctor. After a long period of recuperation at home, the rector eventually made a full recovery.
Location: SY6 6JG
David Paul's new book Illustrated Tales of Shropshire is available for purchase now.