Summary

Henry Pidgeon Memorials of Shrewsbury

Retracing our steps along the green banks of the Severn, we arrive at a gentle ascent which leads to the promenade surrounding the prison. From hence the long ridge of Haughmond Hill, linked as it were to the noble Wrekin,—the stately character of the White Hall,—the patriotic Column in honour of Lord Hill,—the venerable Abbey Church, standing like a patriarch among its more modern compeers,—the Stretton Hills in the distance, and close at hand the frowning walls of the Castle, clad by nature’s hand with stains of sober hue, combine to attract the eye and the mind.
Source: Gutenberg

Henry Pidgeon Memorials of Shrewsbury

Wroxeter will be regarded by the antiquary with curious attention, as affording matter of much investigation: indeed it is impossible, even in imagination, to look upon its fruitful fields, teeming in the rich luxuriance of culture,—once covered with a flourishing Roman town,—now presenting only the ruined remnant of a wall, without sensibly feeling the instability of human greatness, and exclaiming with Cowper
We turn to dust, and all our mightiest works
Die too. The deep foundations that we lay,
Time ploughs them up, and not a trace remains.
Source: Gutenberg

Henry Pidgeon Memorials of Shrewsbury

The site of this momentous conflict for the crown of England is no longer unenclosed, but seems thriving with the culture of centuries of peace. Some armour and military weapons occasionally turned up remind us of the event, or, but for the Church piously founded by King Henry the Fourth, in commemoration of his victory over Hotspur, Douglas, Worcester, and the rebel army, we might rejoice that the breath of tranquillity has hushed the tale of death.
Source: Gutenberg

Get perspective with Kwize: daily news enlightened by great literature