82 THE TROUT ARE RISING 
against her army, she rode to Eccleshall with 
horse-shoes reversed. 
From Oakley, the Tern goes past Tunstall 
Hall, a stone’s throw away from which is Shif- 
ford’s Grange, where in the old days great cricket 
matches took place. Could the old scoring books 
be unearthed, such family names as Broughton, 
Twemlow and Warren, would be found in them. 
Tunstall Pool gives me a memory worth recalling. 
It was then about 1886 that during an otter 
hunt Willie Tayleur, eldest son of the squire of 
Buntingsdale, “tailed” the otter, a feat requiring 
both pluck and skill. A little lower, and Tern is 
near Peatswood Hall, where is one of those lovely 
lakes inseparably associated with the stately homes 
of England. In skating seasons, the lads and 
lasses disport themselves on the great sheet of ice 
at Peatswood, bordered by trees whitened with 
frost. 
Under outstretched boughs, the little river 
pursues its course—some big trout can be seen 
here when the Mayfly is on—until, passing Tyrley 
Castle, it flows under the Newport-road bridge. 
Looking up, you see Market Drayton Parish 
Church, whose tower was climbed by Robert Clive 
when a lad. Had he tumbled, the Indian Empire 
might not have been ours to-day ; at any rate, 
history would have been different. He was born 
at Styche Hall (near Market Drayton), a peaceful 
home, where you can “hear the thrushes singing 
in the lilacs round the lawn.” Shropshire folk 
look with pride at his statue in King Charles 
