“Why I think I shall, my friend; perhaps you can recommend me to a cobbler, in the village yonder,” (pointing to Maentwrog.)
“I am a boot maker, sir, in the village, and have cobbled, as you are pleased to call it, the soles of all strangers in need, for the last twenty years. My father performed that office before me; and I may say my all (awl) of life depends upon the gentlemen who visit our beautiful valley.”
“You are not employed then by the inhabitants of your native village?”
“I was, sir; but a new comer, who wrote over his door ‘leather cutter,’ cut me out; for I never found business enough to set up a shop, and so, sir, I am obliged to watch for customers, to keep up my trade. Those boots of yours, sir, will give me dinners for half the week, if you will only let me give them welts, soles, and heel-taps. You’ve got a fine foot, sir.”
This piece of gross flattery did not prevent my telling him to follow me to the inn, and receive the reward of his perseverance and industry.
THE OAKELEY ARMS. TAN Y BWLCH.
I was tired, and gladly resigned my dilapidated boots to the care of my soles’ physician; who, with a most respectful bow, promised to let me have them by eight o’clock on the following morning.
Oh the comforts of a clean room, clean sheets, and a good bed! These I experienced at the Oakeley Arms; and I arose refreshed, and eager to commence my walk; but I was doomed to disappointment, for on drawing up the blind of my window, a dark and dismal morning presented itself, the rain falling in torrents, and the lovely valley transformed into a gloomy gorge of rolling clouds. What’s to be done? thought I; jump into bed again, answered my careful spirit. I obeyed the suggestion, and slept another hour, when I again awoke, and on inspection found the day still melancholy and tearful.
I descended to the breakfast room, and by the time I had finished that necessary meal the sun shone out gloriously. Having discharged my bill, and paid the loquacious cobbler for repairing my boots, I proceeded to view the grounds of Tan y Bwlch, the seat of Mrs. Oakeley. The name signifies “Below the Pass;” it is situated on the side of a hill which overlooks the vale.
From the terrace of this mansion you command one of the most romantic views in Wales. Harlech Castle is visible upon the right; the Merionethshire mountains tower in the distance, and the entire valley, from Festiniog to Traeth Bychan, watered by the river Dwyryd, is interesting beyond description. Lord Lyttleton tells us, in his observations upon this valley, that an honest Welsh farmer, who died there at 105 years of age, had by his first wife thirty children, ten by his second, and four by his third. His eldest son was eighty-one years older than his youngest, and 800 persons, descended from his body, attended his funeral.