Walking the Mortimer Trail: Tracing the Footsteps of a Medieval Power Player.

In the United Kingdom, there is a proud, albeit somewhat darkly humorous, tradition of naming long-distance walking paths after individuals whose reputations are, to put it mildly, chequered. From the poetic but opium-addicted Samuel Taylor Coleridge lending his name to the Coleridge Way, to the privateer and circumnavigator Sir Francis Drake immortalised by Drake’s Trail, and even the controversial monarch Richard III whose complex legacy underpins the Richard III Trail, these routes invite walkers to ponder the lives of figures who shaped – and sometimes shook – the nation. These trails offer more than just scenic beauty; they provide a tangible connection to the colourful, often morally ambiguous, tapestry of British history. So, it is perhaps fitting that a new 30-mile weekend walk dedicated to the powerful Mortimer family, and their most notorious scion, Sir Roger Mortimer, 1st Earl of March, has emerged as a compelling addition to this unique tradition.

Sir Roger Mortimer is not merely a historical footnote; he is a figure of dramatic intrigue, a man whose ambition and ruthlessness left an indelible mark on 14th-century England. This is the man who, with audacious disregard for convention, allegedly embarked on a scandalous affair with a reigning queen, Isabella, the wife of King Edward II. Beyond the whispers of illicit romance, Mortimer is widely implicated in the probable murder of King Edward II, a dark deed that secured his power. For three turbulent years in the 1320s, he seized the reins of the realm, becoming the de facto tyrant of England, feathering his own nest with lands, titles, and influence through a series of politically astute, if morally questionable, manoeuvres. He was a power broker who understood how to exploit weakness and opportunity, a master manipulator in a brutal age. One might wryly observe that they certainly don’t make world leaders quite like that anymore, or at least, not with such overt theatricality.

Yet, despite his national notoriety, Sir Roger’s primary stomping ground was not the opulent courts of Westminster but the rugged, often lawless, Welsh borderlands. He was a quintessential Marcher Lord, a semi-independent baron tasked with defending and expanding English influence in the Marches – the volatile frontier between England and Wales. The Mortimer Trail, therefore, winds its way through this tranquil yet historically charged countryside, stretching from the picturesque market town of Ludlow in Shropshire to the quiet Herefordshire border town of Kington. This 30-mile journey is perfectly designed for a weekend hike, offering a deep dive into a landscape that once bristled with conflict and ambition. The stark contrast between the peaceful, orderly scenery of today and the outrageous, brutal standards of Sir Roger’s era is a central theme of the walk. While the Mortimer Trail itself has existed in various forms for some years, a newly launched guidebook and an innovative app have breathed fresh life into this magnificently complex, even "horrid," hero, bringing his story and his domain back into the contemporary limelight for adventurers and history buffs alike.

My journey commences in Ludlow, a town renowned today for its burgeoning foodie traditions and Michelin-starred restaurants, but equally a place that positively oozes history from every timber-framed building and crooked lane. Walking down Broad Street, I find myself admiring the elegant bay window of The Angel, a historic inn with a story to tell. It was from this very window that Horatio Nelson, the celebrated hero of the Battle of the Nile, famously waved to an adoring crowd in 1802. With his left hand, of course, a poignant reminder of the arm he lost in battle. Local legend, perhaps embellished by time, recounts that the naval hero leaned out and boomed, “Thank you for the oak!” to the throngs below, acknowledging the vital timber from the surrounding forests that built Britain’s formidable fleet. Behind him, sharing the stage of public fascination, stood his notorious mistress, Emma Hamilton, and her accommodating husband, Sir William, forming a ménage à trois that captivated the British public until Nelson’s heroic death at Trafalgar in 1805. (A brief note for future visitors: The Angel restaurant is currently closed but anticipates reopening soon, promising a return to its historical hospitality).

Lunch is a delightful affair, enjoyed under the imposing walls of Ludlow Castle at CSONS, one of the town’s celebrated cafes. Ludlow truly lives up to its reputation as a gastronomic hub, boasting not only excellent eateries but also a vibrant farmer’s market overflowing with local produce. The town also prides itself on its unique “parlour pubs”—intimate, often unmarked establishments operating from the front rooms of private homes, indicated only by a discreet lamp outside, and typically serving a single, perfectly kept cask ale. These pubs offer a glimpse into a bygone era of community and simple pleasures, a charming counterpoint to the dramatic history unfolding around the castle.

Ludlow Castle itself is the true, symbolic starting point of the Mortimer Trail. In medieval times, it stood as a formidable seat of English borderland power, a crucial stronghold in the constant struggle against the Welsh. It is well worth a significant detour to explore its extensive ruins. As I wander through its ancient courtyards and crumbling towers, I make sure to look out for the solar wing, a private apartment built for Queen Isabella. It was here that she stayed in 1328, a year after her husband Edward II’s deposition and probable death, during which time Sir Roger Mortimer was at the height of his power. History records that Sir Roger’s wife, Joan, was also in attendance, though apparently accommodated in a different wing. The precise whereabouts of Sir Roger during the nights of Isabella’s stay remain, tantalisingly, unrecorded by chroniclers, leaving ample room for historical speculation and, as the author wryly notes, a compelling narrative for a future Netflix series.

The trail proper sets off across the historic Dinham Bridge, immediately beginning its ascent into the ancient Mortimer Forest. Here, the panoramic views back towards Ludlow Castle are breathtaking, offering a sense of perspective on the strategic importance of this landmark. The forest itself is a haven for wildlife, and keen-eyed walkers might spot red deer gracefully moving through the trees or catch a glimpse of the powerful goshawks soaring overhead, their presence a reminder of the wildness that still endures in this ancient woodland. My first night’s respite is at Salwey Lodge, an idyllic retreat whose farming owners, Arabella and Hugo, offer more than just accommodation. They are deeply involved in the trail, not only organising walks but also providing their own handy guiding app and a convenient shuttle service for visitors, eliminating the need for a car – a welcome convenience given Ludlow’s position on the main railway line between Shrewsbury and Hereford.

Salwey Lodge proves to be the perfect place to immerse oneself in the dark ambience of figures like Sir Roger, a man implicated in regicide. The lodge itself has a fascinating historical connection: an ancestor of the Salwey family was sent to the Tower of London for anti-monarchial tendencies, specifically implicated in the Farnley Wood Plot of 1663, a Presbyterian-led conspiracy against King Charles II after the Restoration. This connection adds another layer to the narrative of political rebellion and loyalty. Richard’s Castle, a short distance from the lodge, is thought to be where this ancestor once lived. While little remains of the castle today beyond earthworks, a beautiful decommissioned 12th-century church nearby is well worth a visit, its quiet solitude offering a moment for reflection. The lodge itself is atmospheric, with interiors lined with the kind of ancient ancestral oil portraits that most families, including my own, inadvertently forgot to commission, giving it a wonderfully authentic, lived-in feel. The superlative food, a highlight of the stay, is sourced almost entirely from the house’s own bountiful vegetable garden, the family farm, and trusted local suppliers, ensuring a truly farm-to-table experience.

Day two of the walk takes me deeper into the heart of the region, ascending through more captivating woodland to reveal fabulous, expansive views of the Shropshire countryside. A particular highlight is an Iron Age hill fort at Croft Ambrey. This impressive defensive structure, a testament to the ingenuity and resilience of ancient Britons, was occupied for six centuries before its abandonment around the time of Emperor Claudius’s invasion in AD 43. The Roman conquest, with its superior military organization and urban development, often led to the gradual decline and abandonment of these tribal strongholds. The path, surprisingly, sees only a handful of other people during the entire weekend, offering a profound sense of solitude and connection with the landscape. However, I encounter plenty of subtle yet potent reminders that this area was once a highly militarised and dangerous borderland, a crucible of conflict between two peoples. Throughout the middle ages, the Welsh maintained a sturdy, often fierce, resistance to the Norman conquerors, who, in turn, responded with unwavering brutality, leading to a perpetual state of skirmish and fortification.

Sir Roger Mortimer, of course, was right there in the thick of it, a key player in the ongoing border wars and a formidable Marcher Lord. His reign as England’s de facto ruler, however, was short-lived. The young Edward III, having come of age, grew tired of Mortimer’s overbearing control. In a daring coup in 1330, Edward and his allies surprised Mortimer at Nottingham Castle, capturing him. Mortimer was subsequently charged with treason, including the murder of Edward II, and was ignominiously hanged at Tyburn, a stark and brutal end for a man who had once held the kingdom in his grip. The ruins of Roger’s main residence, Wigmore Castle, an immense and strategically vital fortress, can be seen from Croft Ambrey, a poignant reminder of his lost power. Rather inexplicably, the main trail does not directly pass through Wigmore, although a diversion would add a historically rewarding, albeit challenging, five miles to the day’s journey.

The path continues to roll along pleasantly, offering magnificent panoramas of the distant Welsh mountains, a constant visual cue to the historical frontier. Eventually, it drops down to the tranquil River Lugg, where I find my overnight stop at the Riverside Inn in Aymestrey. The food here, much like at Salwey Lodge, is excellent, with a strong emphasis on locally sourced ingredients. The breakfast, in particular, is a hearty, traditional affair – the kind of meal that, without some self-restraint, could easily induce an early siesta rather than fuel a big day of hiking.

Day three begins with a long, meandering ramble by the river, its gentle flow a stark contrast to the historical currents of violence. The trail then ascends into quiet woodlands and high heaths, once again revealing layers of historical military madness. The serene church at Byton, for instance, bears the scars of its past, having been sacked several times by angry Welsh nobles. These attacks were led by formidable figures such as Llywelyn ap Gruffudd, the last independent Prince of Wales, and later by Owain Glyndŵr, the charismatic leader of the last major Welsh rebellion against English rule. The Mortimers, naturally, were always central to these conflicts. It was Edmund Mortimer, Sir Roger’s father, whose forces were responsible for killing Llywelyn in 1282, effectively ending Welsh independence for centuries. Later, another Edmund Mortimer, Sir Roger’s great-grandson, made a politically defiant gesture against Henry IV by marrying Glyndŵr’s daughter, Catrin, in 1402, a move that briefly threatened the Lancastrian dynasty and underscored the enduring complexities of Anglo-Welsh relations.

It is possible to shorten this third day’s walk to a 12-mile limit, concluding at the charming church in Titley. However, for those seeking the full historical and physical experience, it is far more rewarding to press on, continuing the ascent towards the Welsh border and an encounter with the ultimate symbol of militarisation and tribal anxiety: Offa’s Dyke. The path curls upwards across a seemingly featureless mountain pasture, and then, there it is – the formidable security wall of its day. Built in the 8th century by King Offa of Mercia, this immense earthwork, stretching for over 150 miles, was designed to demarcate and defend the Anglo-Saxon kingdom from the hostile Welsh. What was once a monumental barrier, a literal dividing line between two irredeemably hostile peoples, now appears as a gentle, undulating ripple in the earth, often used by sheep to survey if the grass is indeed greener in the next field. Sitting atop this ancient boundary, one is prompted to ruminate on the enduring nature of human folly, the shifting sands of power, and the transient significance of even the most formidable man-made divisions. After this contemplative moment, it’s a final stride into Kington, a charming border town that offers a welcome reward in the form of a decent cafe, the Border Bean, where I await Arabella’s convenient collection.

This journey through the Mortimer Trail is more than just a hike; it’s a vivid immersion into a dramatic chapter of British history, framed by stunning natural beauty. The route masterfully blends challenging walks with moments of quiet reflection, offering insights into the lives of both the powerful and the common folk who inhabited these lands. The trip was supported by Visit Shropshire, and for those inspired to follow in the footsteps of Sir Roger Mortimer, the new Mortimer Trail guidebook can be downloaded online or purchased from the Castle Bookshop in Ludlow. Salwey Lodge offers a comprehensive four-night Mortimer Trail package that includes accommodation at both the lodge and the Riverside Inn, detailed walking information, hearty breakfasts, packed lunches, one exquisite dinner, and all necessary local transfers, priced at £560 per person. It’s an opportunity to walk through history, connect with the landscape, and ponder the scandalous lives that shaped the very ground beneath your feet.