Population, 2,900.

Market day—­Saturday.  Fair days—­Last Tuesday in February, April 23rd, the Monday before St. Ann’s, second Tuesday in October, and December 11th.

Principal Hotels—­The George, and the Wheatsheaf.

Bewdley is an ancient borough town, corporate and parliamentary, returning one member.  The place long ago obtained the appellation “beautiful.”  Leland says, “because of its present site men first began to resort there;” adding, “the towne itself of Bewdley is sett on the side of a hille, so comely that a man cannot wishe to see a towne better.  It riseth from Severne banke by east, upon the hille by west, so that a man standing on the hille trans-pontem by east may discern almoste every house in the towne; and att the rising of the sun from east, the whole towne glittereth, being all of new building, as it were of gould.”  Bewdley has been said to resemble the letter Y in form—­the foot in the direction of the river being more modern, and the extremities stretching out against the hills the more ancient, portions.  It was privileged as a place of sanctuary when Wyre Forest was infested by men who lived merry lives, and who did not refuse to shed their brothers’ blood.  It had the privilege of taxing traders upon the Severn, as appears from a petition presented by “the men of Bristowe and Gloucester” in the reign of Henry IV., praying for exemption.  It obtained its charter of incorporation from Edward IV., and one granting the elective franchise from James I.

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Wribbenhall, on the same side the river as the station, is a hamlet belonging to Kidderminster, from which town it is distant about three miles.  Bewdley and Wribbenhall are surrounded by pleasant spots, not a few of which are occupied by mansions, handsome villas, and gentlemen’s seats, seen from the line.

Winterdyne is one of these; from dark rocks above the Severn it overlooks the valley, and is surrounded by walks and grounds commanding magnificent prospects, the one from the Fort being perhaps the most romantic.  Lovers of quiet rambles, anglers, or botanists, would do well to take up their quarters at Bewdley, as a centre from which to explore the neighbourhood.  There are few more charming spots than Ribbesford, a mile lower down the river; it is a sylvan bit of landscape, with grassy flats and weathered cliffs, the latter, rising abruptly from the stream, being delicately tinted into harmony with the boles, and foliage of the trees above them.  Opposite is Burlish Deep, noted for its pike.

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