Brown Clee centre skyline, seen across the Teme valley from Bringewood, just over the Herefordshire border. At the extreme left of the photo is Norton Camp above Craven Arms, which I visited a couple of months earlier.
A fresh perspective on old friends; Brown Clee to the left and Titterstone Clee to the right, seen from Callow Hill a little less than 10 miles away to the west.
Brown Clee (left) and Titterstone Clee (right), from the slopes below Caynham Camp near Ludlow. Titterstone is the lower of the two, but the showier. Isn’t it often the way?
Brown Clee (left of centre) seen from Hope Bowdler Hill. Titterstone Clee is to the right. The dark band running horizontally across the centre of the picture is Wenlock Edge. Bottom left is part of a prehistoric field system on the slopes of Hope Bowdler Hill.
Clee Burf, the southern summit of Brown Clee. It is surrounded by the remains of an Iron Age settlement/fort.
Brown Clee from The Giant’s Chair (Titterstone Clee).
Brown Clee seen from Orleton, about 10 miles to the SSW.
In the Clee Hills is St Milborough’s Well at Stoke St. Milborough (in Domesday Book, Godestoch). It is an unfailing spring, a little above the church, and at the foot of the steep bank leading up the Brown Clee Hill.
It was reputed to be good for sore eyes, and was also much used for ‘bucking’ clothes, which were rinsed in the well-water and beaten on a flat stone at the well’s mouth: but some ten years ago it was covered in, and altered, and I am told is now in a ruinous and unsightly condition.
The legend still current in the village, relates that St Milburga was a very holy and beautiful woman, who, nevertheless, had so many enemies that she was obliged to live in hiding. Her retreat, however, became known, and she took to flight, mounted on a white horse, and pursued by her foes with a pack of bloodhounds, and a gang of rough men on horseback. After two days and two nights’ hard riding she reached the spot where the well now is, and fell fainting from her horse, striking her head upon a stone. Blood flowed from the wound, and the stain it caused upon the stone remained there plainly visible, and has been seen by many persons now living.
On the opposite side of the road, some men were sowing barley in a field called the Plock, and they ran to help the Saint. Water was wanted, but none was at hand. The horse, at St. Milburga’s bidding, struck his hoof into the rock and at once a spring of water gushed out. ‘Holy water, henceforth and for ever flow freely,’ said the Saint. Then, stretching out her hands, she commanded the barley the men had just sown to spring up, and instantly the green blades appeared.
Turning to the men, she told them that her pursuers were close at hand, and would presently ask them, ‘When did the lady on the white horse pass this way?’ to which they were to answer, ‘When we were sowing this barley.’ She then remounted her horse, and bidding them prepare their sickles, for in the evening they should cut their barley, she went on her way.
And it came to pass as the Saint had foretold. In the evening the barley was ready for the sickle, and while the men were busy reaping, St Milburga’s enemies came up, and asked for news of her. The men replied that she had stayed there at the time of the sowing of the barley, and they went away baffled. But when they came to hear that the barley was sown in the morning, ripened at mid-day, and was reaped in the evening, they owned that it was in vain to fight against God.
Medieval hagiologists relate the flight of St Milburga from the too violent suit of a neighbouring prince, whose pursuit was checked by the River Corve, which, as soon as she had passed it, swelled from an insignificant brook to a might flood which effectually barred his progress. They also tell how when the wild geese ate the new-sown grain from the Saint’s fields, she commanded them to be gone, and forbade any of their race to trespass on ‘St Milburga’s Land’ from that time forth; how, when the veil fell from St Milburga’s head in the early morning sunshine, it remained suspended in the air until replaced; and how a mystic flame enveloped her as she prostrated herself beside the dead body of a certain poor widow’s son, who was restored to life by her prayers.
St Milburga’s Day is the 23rd of February, and thus falls at the period of ‘Lent-tillin’’ or spring wheat-sowing. It is very evident from these traditions, both ancient and modern, that in the minds of the still half-heathen people among whom she dwelt, she took the place of one of their ancient rustic goddesses, coming forth in the morning sunlight, and swiftly journeying in the spring time among the hills and valleys, making the waters flow and the corn spring up as she went.
From ‘Shropshire Folklore’, edited by C.S. Burne, from the collections of G.F. Jackson (1886).
It doesn’t look that ‘ruinous and unsightly’ in Time Prevett’s video on Youtube, it looks rather nice. And it’s certainly a very pagan-tinged story. I think it might be worth a visit. I guess you can argue it’s a mile or two away from the top of the hill, but certainly in its foothills.
Brown Clee Hill has two summits – Abdon Burf is the highest one. Further down on the SW side is a fort called Nordy Bank. I’ve read there were also hillforts on both summits, not to mention various older barrows.
A large stone on the side of the principal branch of the Brown Clee Hill (Abdon Burf), belonging apparently to the class of monuments commonly called druidical, is called the Giant’s Shaft – shaft, of course, signifying an arrow.
Of course. That end of the hill has been extensively quarried, so I wonder if the stone is still there. I wonder if it has anything to do with the same Giant that sits on Titterstone Clee.
From ‘On the Local Legends of Shropshire’ by Thomas Wright. p56 in ‘Collectanea Archaeologica’ v1, 1862. Online at Google Books.
