Eventually assistance came to the hard-pressed promoters, and the line was officially opened for traffic from Barmouth to Pwllheli on October 10th, 1867. But the number of trains often depended on the state of the exchequer, and sometimes quaint incidents would occur to break the monotony of events. One driver arriving from Pwllheli at Portmadoc, in the early days, discovering that there was no “staff” available to enable him to proceed to Penrhyndeudraeth according to regulations, was in considerable perplexity as to what to do, when an ingenious sub-official bethought him of a scheme, and fetching an old carpenter’s auger, wrapped it round with paper, and thus armed by what perpetrated to be the badge of authority to go forward, the driver blew his whistle and off the train went on its hazardous way.
On another occasion an official of the line visiting one station master on this section was startled, in reply to his cheery inquiry as to whether all was well with him, to learn that “the only drawback was that he had the devil in his parlour.” On his exclamation of incredulous alarm, the stationmaster said that he would show the official, if he would come and see. Entering the station house with some trepidation, he beheld in the middle of the parlour one of the iron fire-brackets, used to prevent water troughs from freezing in cold weather, popularly known among railway men as “devils.” It seems that the builders had neglected to put in a grate, and the poor man had had to fall back on this diabolical method of keeping himself warm! The matter, no doubt, was quickly righted, for stationmasters, even then, were important functionaries, often wearing tall silk hats, though some of them were regarded as passing rich on 15/- or 16/- a week.
It was something, however, that, in the face of all these difficulties, financial and constructive, a line should be completed along this wandering coast at all. Only in one respect,
indeed, did the original project fall short of attainment. The great objective of which the shareholders heard so much in earlier days—Porth Dinlleyn—was never reached. The line still terminates at Pwllheli, where, up to 1901, the station lay at arm’s length from the town close to the harbour, which, in hot weather, used sometimes to alarm arriving visitors by its fishy odours. In 1901 power was obtained to carry the line into the centre of the town, where a new and commodious station now serves this popular health resort, the gateway to the mysterious fastnesses of Lleyn.
CHAPTER VIII. SOME EARLIER BRANCHES.
“Y ddel gerbydres welir—yn rhedeg
Ar hyd ein dyffryn-dir,
Ac yn gynt ar ei hynt hir
Y fellten ni theithia filltir.O ganol tre Llangynog—am naw
Cychwyn wneir yn dalog,
Fe’n ceir cyn tri’n fwy gwisgi na’r gog,
A hoenus yn Llundain enwog.” [91]—A Welsh Bard.
The traveller along the main artery of the Cambrian, from Whitchurch to Aberystwyth, will note that, as he proceeds on his way, past the Welsh border foothills, and on by the waters of the Severn to the highlands of central Montgomeryshire, a series of more or less attractive lateral valleys branch off to the left, and still more definitely, to the right. Up some of these the eyes of ambitious engineers and railway promoters had often been cast as the main line was being constructed. No less eagerly did the residents at the
remoter ends of these sequestered hollows among the hills look forward to the day when they might be linked up with the central system, and so brought into direct touch with the great world beyond.
There had, as we have seen, already been plans for carrying a line right up the Vyrnwy or the Tanat Valley, through the Berwyns to the vale of the Dee—the wonderful West Midland line which was to run from Shrewsbury to the shores of Cardigan Bay, over hill and down dale with “only one tunnel.” But the route left Llanfyllin eight miles to the south, and Llanfyllin, as the largest town among these upland valleys, was not disposed to take that lying down. The Oswestry and Newtown line crossed the end of the vale, at Llanymynech, only nine miles away, and that was clearly the route by which the engineers could most easily construct a connective link. In the autumn of 1860, one of Llanfyllin’s most prominent citizens, Mr. J. Pugh, had posted over to Oswestry, where he had an interview with Mr. Whalley. “Can you help us to get a railway?” Yes, anything in his power, the hon. Member for Peterboro’ would do, and he was as good as his word. Within a month a crowded audience pressed into the Llanfyllin Town Hall to listen to the scheme which Mr. Whalley and his colleagues had to lay before them. The chair was taken by Mr. R. M. Bonner Maurice, of Bodynfoel, who had, it was happily recalled, presided at one of the meetings eight years earlier at Newtown out of which the germ of the Montgomeryshire Railways sprang. This was, indeed, good augury, and when, not only Mr. Whalley and Mr. Johns, with their enthusiasm, but Mr. George Owen, with his plans in his pocket, came before them to show how the thing could be done, at a cost of some £60,000, enthusiasm rose high.
The meeting, however, was not “like Bridgnorth election, all on one side.” Mr. A. C. Sheriff, of Worcester, manager of the West Midland Railway, existent, so far, merely on paper, was there too, only he had no plans in his pocket, and little more than vague notions in his head. “If” they did make a second tunnel, out of the Tanat Valley, then Llanfyllin should certainly be brought on to their main line, which would carry the farmers straight into Shrewsbury market. The farmers, however, did not want to go to Shrewsbury market. They wanted to go to Oswestry and Welshpool, and it was by Llanymynech that their way lay. So it scarcely needed Mr. Abraham Howell’s warning to avoid the “shoals and pitfalls” which threatened any deviation from the branch line scheme. “Great companies,” cried the redoubtable lawyer, “have been the bane of Montgomeryshire,” and Llanfyllin shouted back that they would have none of them, whether they found they could tunnel out of the Tanat Valley or not. Besides, “if” the West Midland could not put Llanfyllin on the main line—and a very big “if” it seemed—then, Mr. Sheriff admitted, it would not touch the town at all.