As at Worcester, the Severn here is a quiet, slow-flowing river. 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