"_The question of a railway is now or never_."--THE LATE MR. R. G.
JEBB, of Ellesmere.
No period, since the wild days of the "railway mania," was more pregnant
of schemes than the later months of 1860. They sprang up like mushrooms
all along the Shropshire border, and some of them, like mushrooms, as
suddenly suffered decay. A facetious Salopian prophet ventured publicly
to predict that "we shall hear next of a railway to Llansilin (a remote
village among the border hills) or the moon." His ratiocination was
hardly exaggerated. A "preliminary prospectus" was actually published
for carrying a railway, at a cost of under 10,000 pounds per mile, from
Shrewsbury, through Kinnerley and Porthywaen, thence "near Llanfyllin and
Llanrhaiadr," to Llangynog, "through the Berwyn hills" to Llandrillo, and
so to Dolgelley and Portmadoc. It was to be worked and maintained by the
West Midland, Shrewsbury and Coast of Wales Railway Co.; the prospects of
mineral and passenger traffic were "most promising," and throughout its
entire length of 90 miles, the promoters pointed out with all the
emphasis which italics can afford, "it has _only one tunnel_, and that
slightly exceeding a mile and half in length." Eventually, a line,
partly following this route, under the less comprehensive title of the
West Shropshire Mineral Railway, and later known as "the Potteries,"
constructed from a station in Abbey Forgate, Shrewsbury, to Llanymynech,
and on to Nantmawr, with a branch from Kinnerley to Criggion, ran for a
time, then fell into abeyance and disrepair, and was in recent years
re-opened under the Light Railways Act as the Shropshire and
Montgomeryshire Railway, an independent company.
But, in its original form, the undertaking was apparently to be no
friendly competitor with the existing Oswestry and Newtown and associated
lines, whose ambition it had, for some time, been to extend its northern
terminus, resting on the Great Western branch at Oswestry, through
Ellesmere to Whitchurch, there to form a more serviceable junction with
the London and North Western from Shrewsbury to Crewe, and the busy hives
of Lancashire. But more formidable opposition was already afoot
elsewhere. The Great Western, none too eager, as we have seen, to assist
independent undertakings in Montgomeryshire, were ready enough to capture
traffic in other quarters, and their answer to the Oswestry and
Whitchurch project was to formulate a scheme for a branch from Rednal to
Ellesmere, with incidental hints about constructing a loop to place
Oswestry on their main line. Draughtsmen were busy everywhere with pens
and plans. Public halls echoed to the optimistic eloquence of promoters
and counter promoters, and powder and shot was being hurriedly got
together for the tremendous fusilade in the Parliamentary committee
rooms, where, for many a long day, there was to rage and sway the battle
for the rights and privileges of bringing the steam engine into the
little town of Ellesmere.
For, though wider schemes were involved in the struggle, Ellesmere was
the pivot on which arguments and contentions centred. In such a
conflict, needless to say, all the old rivalries of "leviathan"
interests, of which we have already heard so much, re-emerged. What was
still called the "Montgomeryshire party"--the men who had brought the
other local railways into existence in spite of well-nigh overwhelming
difficulties--continued to look for association with the North Western
for greater salvation. Others favoured the chance of obtaining increased
facilities for through traffic from the Great Western. Between the two
warring elements, Ellesmere itself, as one of its most estimable and
influential citizens had put it, believed it was "now or never" for them.
In the Parliamentary Committee Rooms, where the evidence occupied
thirteen days, and counsels' speeches several more, the two projects were
stubbornly fought out. Great Western witnesses came forward to aver
that, owing to the haste with which the Shrewsbury and Chester Railway
had been projected, Oswestry had been left too much in the lurch, and the
time was now come for reconsideration of its claims to be brought on to
the main line. Mr. Sergeant Wheeler, with all the command of forensic
eloquence, drew visions of the Shropshire market town as "a great central
place of meeting for the people all round." All that was necessary was
to build a line from Oswestry to Rednal, and then the projected branch
from Rednal to Ellesmere, and Rednal itself might become a second Rugby
or Crewe; who could tell? As to the continuation of such a line from
Ellesmere to Whitchurch, true, Paddington was not enthusiastic, but when
they found that that was the price demanded for any measure of local
support, they were ready to pay it.
In Oswestry there was, naturally enough, a general approval of any step
which would place the town on the Great Western main line, and no small
point was made of the fact that it would be better to have one station
than two. Moreover, Mr. R. J. Croxon. whose words were weighted with the
influence of a family solicitor, private banker and town clerk, was of
opinion that, apart from anything else, to carry a line, as Mr. Whalley
proposed, for two miles by the side of the turnpike to Whittington would
be "very dangerous to people driving along," and the attention of the
Trustees ought to be called to it. But, unfortunately for Mr. Croxon and
those who shared his fears in this regard, it was the business of the
local surveyor to examine the plans, and he was "engaged on the other
side." Thus even among Oswestrians was opinion divided between the rival
routes, and men like Alderman Thomas Minshall and Alderman Peploe
Cartwright, who had stood shoulder to shoulder in the fight for
independent interests in the making of the Oswestry and Newtown Railway,
were now inclined to regard each others' sympathies with some suspicion.
Further down the proposed line the weight was thrown rather more
decisively in favour of the Whalley scheme. Whitchurch had petitioned
against the Great Western proposals, though Captain Cust, who gave
evidence for the larger company, was moved to dismiss this effort as the
work of "Captain Clement Hill and lot of ragamuffins." Attempts were
even made to disparage the local undertaking by reference to Mr. Savin,
who had agreed to carry out the line on similar terms of lease already
adopted elsewhere, as a "haberdasher, not in a position to subscribe
millions towards railway projects." In Ellesmere the argument that the
Great Western scheme would bring the agricultural area into close touch
with the North Wales coalfields was quickly answered by the counter-plea
that the independent company could also build a branch from that spot to
Ruabon or Wrexham, and powers to that effect "would be applied for as
soon as what may be called the main line from Oswestry to Whitchurch was
carried." Even the larger landowners through whose estates the rival
engineers had marched with their instruments differed in their point of
approach. Sir John Kynaston, Bart., of Hardwicke, near Ellesmere, who,
as someone said, "if he had been left alone, was willing, like Marcus
Curtius, to sacrifice himself for the public good, was brought and
instructed to give evidence about embankments," one of which, on Mr.
Whalley's line, by the way, it was supposed (though in error) would shut
out his view of the Vale of Llangollen, and "destroy the happiness of his
existence for the remainder of his days." Sir John Hanmer, Bart., M.P.,
on the other hand, was inclined to become rhapsodic. He looked upon a
railway "as a fine work of art," which any painter might be glad to
include in his landscape--only, of course, it must not cut off a landed
proprietor from his woods and his other wild grounds, as the Great
Western scheme proposed to do, and against this he not only objected but
petitioned.
[Picture: The late CAPT. R. D. PRYCE, Chairman of the Cambrian Railways
Co., 1884-1886; The late HON. GEORGE T. KENYON, M.P., First Chairman of
the Wrexham and Ellesmere Railway Co.]
In the end the Committee declared the preamble of the Montgomeryshire
party, for their Oswestry, Ellesmere, and Whitchurch Railway to be
proved, and that of the Great Western not proved, though the Chairman
regretted to add that the finding was not unanimous. In the lobbies
rumour had it that it was, in fact, only arrived at by the casting vote
of that gentleman himself. Be that as it may, it sufficed. Once again
"independent" effort, astutely engineered, had triumphed over the
all-powerful interests of a great and wealthy company, and amongst those
who had hoped and feared and hoped again for the success of the Oswestry
Ellesmere and Whitchurch scheme enthusiasm knew no bounds.
In Ellesmere a great and excited crowd awaited news from London at the
Bridgewater Hotel. They watched for the omnibus from Gobowen, which it
was expected might bear the fateful tidings. But either the omnibus
failed to arrive, or, if it did, it had no intelligence to impart.
Shortly afterwards, however, a special messenger came post haste along
the road from Oswestry, and in a moment the news flashed through the
little town. "Victory"! An attempt was made to ring the bells, but the
churchwarden could not be found, and no one else had authority to pull
the ropes. So that the concourse fell back on the time-honoured
procession, and led by a drum and fife band, and headed by the Bailiffs,
the cheering throng paraded the streets while cannon booming from the
market place startled the countryside for a mile or more around.
Oswestry, assembled in public meeting, put to flight its town clerk's
gloomy prognostications with hilarious speeches, and outside the more
dignified civic circles popular demonstration took still more picturesque
form.
The return of a number of witnesses who had gone up to London to give
evidence against the local scheme and in support of the Great Western was
awaited at the Oswestry station by a hostile crowd. Some delay in their
arrival home was occasioned by an untoward incident even before they
finally left London. Seating themselves in a first-class compartment in
the rear of the train at Paddington, they waited at first patiently and
then impatiently for it to start. At last, unable to understand the
delay, one of them put out his head and asked a passing official when the
train was going. "It _has_ gone" was the laconic reply. The coach which
they had chosen was not attached to the rest of the train, and they were
not so meticulously careful about examining tickets on the Great Western
system as they are to-day. When the belated passengers did eventually
reach Oswestry, the crowd was still there. What was more, they had had
time to organise what was deemed a suitable reception. Among the
witnesses was a gentleman who, it appeared, had at one time been very
short of pence, and, it was alleged, had left his abode without paying
the rent. Somehow or another this little fact had been raked up and a
number of wags had cut the shape of a latch-key out of a sheet of tin.
As he alighted from the train this was dangled before him at the end of a
long pole, with a pendant inscription, "Who left the key under the door?"
The promoters of the new undertaking, of which Mr. George Lewis became
first secretary, with offices in Oswald Chambers, Oswestry, had every
reason for satisfaction. Royal assent was given to their Bill in August,
1861, authorising a capital of 150,000 pounds in 10 pound shares, with
50,000 pounds on loan, the work to be completed within five years. There
were, however, still tough battles to be waged over subsequent efforts to
obtain sanction for certain deviations and extensions, against which the
Great Western continued to fight tooth and nail with a counter-offensive
of their own. No fewer than three distinct schemes were now before the
public, with all sorts of loops and junctions at Rednal or Mile End, near
Whittington, and branches from Bettisfield to Wem, or to Yorton, and from
Ellesmere to Ruabon. But it is an easier task to draw plans on a map
than to carry them out. The Wem branch never matured, the link with
Denbighshire only after many years, and then to Wrexham and not Ruabon.
So far as the main issue was concerned, however, the Great Western again
failed to prove their preamble, and another signal was given for local
rejoicings over the result. Not only at Oswestry and Ellesmere and other
places along the route of the new line, but as far afield as Montgomery
and Llanfyllin, where a branch line of their own was being promoted to
Llanymynech, hats were thrown into the air and healths were drunk to the
victory for local enterprise. Oswestry parish church bells rang for two
days, and the Rifle Corps band blew itself dry outside the houses of Mr.
Savin, Mr. George Owen and others. Mr. Savin himself, returning from
London, during these proceedings, met "with a reception at Oswestry such
as no man ever received before." Carried shoulder high through the
streets of the town, accompanied by a surging throng of cheering
admirers, armed with torches, to the tune of "See the Conquering Hero
comes," he was addressed in congratulatory vein by several of his
fellow-citizens, and it was only when a first and second attempt to fly
from the embarrassment of so tumultuous a welcome had failed, that he
succeeded, on a third, in making his escape. The "small haberdasher,"
who had been deemed incapable of organising railway schemes, had indeed
become something very like a railway king!
But we are anticipating events. At the end of August, 1861, the first
sod had been cut at Ellesmere, where it was proposed to begin the
construction, proceeding first in the direction of Whitchurch. The
ceremony was performed by Sir John Hanmer and Mr. John Stanton, in a
field belonging to Mr. W. A. Provis, "not far from the workhouse," and a
spade and barrow, suitably inscribed, was presented to Sir John by
Messrs. Savin and Ward, the contractors. There was the usual ceremonial,
inclusive of banqueting and speech-making, and banners, emblazoned with
such appropriate mottoes as "Whalley for ever," "Hurrah for Sir John
Hanmer and John Stanton, Esquire," floated in the breeze. One ingenious
gentleman, elaborating the topical theme, had erected a flag which, we
are told, "attracted special attention from its significance and
quaintness," representing a donkey cart with two passengers on one side
and a steam engine and carriages on the other, to personify "Ellesmere of
yesterday," and "Ellesmere of to-day," with the philosophic addendum,
"Evil communications corrupt good manners," "Aye, says the preacher,
every valley shall be raised and every hill shall be brought low." "Aye,
says the teacher, let us bless the bridge that carries us safely over,"
"Aye, aye, quoth honest nature." The application to evil communications
might, in such a connection, be a little ambiguous, but presumably nobody
imagined it to refer to the Oswestry, Ellesmere and Whitchurch Railway!
The allusion to bridges was rather more germane; for, in building the
line towards Whitchurch, which was the first section taken in hand, the
engineers were faced with a bridging problem of a peculiar nature, and
only less in magnitude than that which had confronted the constructors of
the famous Liverpool and Manchester Railway thirty years earlier. Partly
in order to avoid interfering with Sir John Hanmer's property, and partly
because they deemed it the better way, the engineers decided to carry the
line over Whixall Moss, a wide area of bog land lying between Bettisfield
and Fenns Bank. This, it was supposed, might even be drained by making
the railway across its quivering surface, but hopes of this sort were not
to be realised, for it remains to-day a wild, but picturesque stretch of
heather and silver birches, where the peat-digger plies his trade with,
perhaps, as much profit as the farmer would in tilling it. But as to its
power to bear the weight of passing trains the engineers had little
doubt. The canal already crossed it, and though in making soundings the
surveyors once lost their 35 foot rod in the morass, this, was near the
canal bank, and it did not deter them in their efforts to discover a
means of securing the railway from similar disaster. The average depth
of the moss was found to be twelve feet, but there were areas where it
was only nine feet deep, and at most 17 feet, and when the bottom was
reached it was discovered to be sand.
So, proceeding merrily, Mr. George Owen first drained the site of the
line by means of deep side and lateral drains filled with brushwood and
grig. He then laid strong faggots three feet thick and from eight to
twelve feet long, and over these placed a framework of larch poles
extending the entire width of the rails. The poles were then interlaced
with branches of hazel and brushwood and upon this the sleepers and rails
were laid, the whole being ballasted with sand and other light material.
And, in the end it proved a triumph for courage and ingenuity. Though
there might be some slight oscillation, heavy trains have been running
over this interesting two or three mile stretch for many a long year
without the slightest mishap.
Not to be outdone by little Ellesmere, another "first sod" was turned at
Oswestry on September 4th, 1862, by Miss Kinchant of Park Hall, and Miss
Lloyd, daughter of the Mayor of the borough, on the Shelf Bank field,
hard by the existing terminus of the Oswestry and Newtown Railway, with
which the new line was to be connected. The streets were in gala dress,
and while the leading citizens fared sumptuously on the Wynnstay Arms
bowling green, and disported themselves at a "rural fete," tea was served
to "the poorer women of the town and neighbourhood." In addition to the
residents many came from Ellesmere in wagons drawn by a decorated
traction engine,--significant emblem of the new power which was shortly
to bring the two neighbouring and ever friendly places within a quarter
of an hour's distance of each other.
Work now went ahead on both sections of the line, under the personal
supervision of Messrs. Thomas and John Savin and Mr. John Ward, and by
the spring of 1863 the railway was ready for traffic over the eleven
miles between Ellesmere and Whitchurch. The honour of being the first
passengers to make the journey belongs, appropriately enough, to the late
Capt. Jebb and his company of Rifles, who, by courtesy of the
contractors, were driven to Whitchurch on April 20th, a few other friends
accompanying them. The official trial trip was made shortly after, in a
train drawn by "two heavy engines," the "Montgomery" and the "Hero," and
in crossing Whixall Moss, we are told, "the deflection was almost
inappreciable." Captain Tyler was now able to pass the line as entirely
satisfactory, and, early in the morning on the first Monday in May, a
little group of Ellesmerians assembled at their new station to witness
the first regular train leave for Whitchurch. No doubt their hearts
swelled with pride, but beyond the usual exhibition of such emotion as so
notable an event inspired, there was no public acclaim.
Another twelve months were to elapse before the remaining section, from
Ellesmere to Oswestry, was ready for traffic. In July 1864, however,
this link was forged, and the event synchronizing with the completion of
the work at the other end of the chain, from Borth to Aberystwyth, it
threw open the whole length of what was about to become, under the
Consolidation Act, the main line of the Cambrian Railways.
[Picture: Advertisement for the Ceremony of Cutting the First Sod]
CHAPTER VII. THE COAST SECTION.
"_When they saw the Crimean Campaign they seemed about to be engaged
in against the sea, he thought it had been very much to the advantage
of the Welsh Coast line, if, on the formation of the Board the
Directors had been put through a series of questions in early English
history, and if their engineer had been directed to report to them on
the maritime events of the reign of Canute_."--EDWARD, THIRD EARL OF
POWIS.
No Chapter in the story of the Cambrian is more intimately touched with
the spirit of romance, none more prolific of pathetic humour, than that
which concerns what is to-day termed the Coast Section. For the moment,
however, all was sunshine and success. The continuation of the line from
Borth to Aberystwyth was completed for traffic, as we have just seen, in
the summer of 1864, and on that auspicious day when trains began to run
through from Whitchurch to the new terminus on the banks of the Rheidol
the rejoicings in Aberystwyth were such as to eclipse even those who had
marked earlier stages of the construction of the various railways now
linked in one long chain. Indeed, the triumphal procession which made
its way to the coast was bent on more than one celebration. The day was
also to mark the opening of the hotel which Mr. Savin had built at Borth,
and when the train finally arrived at Aberystwyth at a quarter past three
it was accorded a civic welcome; the Mayor, Mr. Morgan, and Corporation
tendering to Messrs. Thomas and John Savin an address, in which thanks
were poured out upon these "benefactors" to the locality. A move was
then made to the promenade, where Mrs. Edwards drove the first pile in
the new pier, and, after much processioning, the great assembly sat down
at the Belle Vue Hotel for a banquet of which, surely, the like has never
been seen in the town since! Here his Worship, supported by Earl Vane,
Capt. E. L. Pryse, M.P., Mr. Thomas Barnes, M.P., Capt. R. D. Pryce, the
Contractors, Engineers, and many other ardent workers for or well-wishers
of the undertaking, presided over a flow of oratory, the report of which
occupied over five columns of the newspapers, and visions of a new
Aberystwyth swam before the eyes of the guests, wonderful and beatific!
Such, indeed, was the sumptuousness of the repast, and the wealth of
oratory, that it was eleven at night before the company could be
persuaded to take their places in the return train, and at three o'clock
the next morning a jovial party arrived home at Oswestry, tired and
sleepy, though happy and glorious.
But the "Crimean campaign" of girdling the coast of Merionethshire and
penetrating onward to the distant peninsula of Lleyn, which was part of
the Aberystwyth and Welsh Coast scheme, was yet only in its earlier
stages, and already the difficulties of the undertaking had had their
sobering effects. The original idea of Mr. Piercy was to build a huge
bridge from Ynyslas across the estuary of the Dovey to Aberdovey, whence
it was proposed to run a service of steam boats to Ireland. Work was
begun with seeking a foundation in the shifting sands. Men were engaged
with the boring rods, but they could only labour at low tide, and in the
long intervals when the water was high, adjacent hostelries afforded a
too attractive method of spending enforced leisure, so that often, it is
said, when the waters had receded enough to renew operations, some of the
borers were too bemused to know whether they were on the solid earth or
not. At any rate, no sure foundation could be found, either by Philip
drunk or by Philip sober, and it was reluctantly concluded that another
means of bridging the gulf must be sought.
Adopting the wise Tennysonian counsel, the promoters eventually decided
to "take the bend," and Parliamentary power was sought for this deviation
of the original scheme. It was opposed by the Great Western Railway as
inimical to their project of carrying a line from Bala to Barmouth and so
forming a connection with the Welsh Coast, and their antagonism was only
disposed of after a compromise had been made in the Parliamentary
Committee Room, by which the great company obtained power to build the
bridge themselves, if they wished, within ten years, and the tolls on the
deviation were to be charged only for the same distance as if the traffic
had been carried by the bridge. So the line was carried round to cross
the Dovey at a narrow point near Glandyfi and connect the coast line with
the other railway there.
Hence the existence of, perhaps, the most beautifully situated of all
railway stations, formerly called Glandovey Junction, but changed in
recent years to Dovey Junction to avoid confusion with the adjacent
Glandovey station, at the same time transformed into Glandyfi. Being
only intended for changing trains the station is peculiar in having no
exit, and the very few passengers who ever alight here for other purposes
than entering another train have, presumably to make their way as best
they can along the line. Another feature of this station is that its
buildings and adjuncts lie in three counties. The station itself is in
Montgomeryshire. The stationmaster's house, just over the river bridge
is in Merioneth, and from the signalbox the signalman works an up distant
signal which is planted in the soil of Cardiganshire!
But this connection only came later, in August 1867, when the six miles
of line from Aberdovey to the Junction was carried along the estuary
shore and through the four tunnels which, until the Mid-Wales Railway was
absorbed in 1904, remained the only ones on the whole system. For a
considerable time after the coast line was opened passengers were carried
from Aberdovey by ferry to Ynyslas. At high tide the boat could make for
the station, but when the water was low it berthed on the Cardiganshire
side, at a lower landing place, whence travellers and baggage proceeded
by a little branch into Ynyslas station.
The first sod on the Merionethshire side had been cut, in April 1862, by
Mrs. Foulkes of Aberdovey, on the Green near the Corbett Arms Hotel at
Towyn, without formal ceremony, but in the presence of Mr. Piercy and Mr.
Savin, and "a few scores of persons who cheered lustily." We may hope
that even this mild demonstration did something to hearten the promoters
in their herculean task. For several miles along the shore the line had
to be protected against the assault of the high tides that periodically
sweep Cardigan Bay, and it was soon only too evident that ordinary
ramparts were no sure buttress against Atlantic rollers. More than once
the permanent way was washed by the waves and engineer and contractor,
viewing the dismal wreckage, must have felt that noble references to the
moral of Canute, however pungent, were not altogether inapropos.
There were toilers at this work, however, who had never heard of the
Danish King and bode not of what the maritime history of England might
teach. To them the arrival of the first trial train on the banks of the
Dysynni was more pertinently an occasion for "celebration," and sixty
pounds being quickly collected for the purpose, and as quickly spent,
rumour has it that, alas! the festivities ended for some in a few
reflective hours, we may hope profitably, if not too comfortably, spent
in the local lock-up.
But even when the Dysynni had been safely bridged,--not without anxious
days when piles refused to become embedded in the shingly bed of the
river--the troubles of the constructors were far from concluded. Beyond
Llwyngwril, to which the line was opened for traffic in November,
1863,--the engines and coaches had been brought by barge across the Dovey
from Ynyslas--there lay a still more formidable barrier to rapid
progress. For the cliffs hereabouts, which, with their steep declivity
down to the rock-strewn shore, left scarcely a foothold for the wandering
mountain sheep, were enough to daunt the heart of any but the most
courageous and determined engineer. Here, again, the problem rose as to
whether they should be tunnelled or the line carried along their sloping
edge, supported by sea-walls, as was the high road above. But the high
road itself shaved the edge of the precipice so closely that, it is
related, in the old coaching days, many people preferred leaving the
vehicle at the top of the hill to swinging down such a slope. Eventually
choice fell on the latter alternative, sailors being employed to assist
in the work by reason of their greater experience on such seagirt ledges!
It was, indeed, a hazardous venture; for the extreme narrowness of the
ground to work upon, sometimes tapering away to practically no ground at
all, hampered the task at every step, and the difficulty of building a
track along which heavy trains could run at high speed was never quite
surmounted. Even to-day trains descending the 1 in 60 decline are
carefully regulated in speed, no bad arrangement, after all, since this
stretch of line commands, on a clear day, one of the finest peeps of the
whole charming panorama of scenery along the coast of North Wales.
But engineer and contractor had something better to do than admire the
view. Below them and beyond, even when Barmouth Junction was reached in
July, 1865, there lay another obstacle which could not be avoided by any
but the widest detour. Trains could, and were eventually carried around
the narrow neck of the Dovey; they must cross the estuary of the Mawddach
almost at its widest point in order to gain the Barmouth shore.
Meanwhile, the line was carried along the southern bank of the river, by
what is now the Dolgelley branch, to Penmaenpool, and the public had to
remain content with such facilities as this localised service could
provide.
And a wonderful service it appears to have been! Old inhabitants still
tell tales of how goods trains would pull up at remote wayside spots
while driver and guard went trapping hares that made good prices in the
neighbouring markets, where no inconvenient questions were asked
concerning their capture. Or it might be that, now and again, a waggon
load of beer barrels was consigned to some village inn. It was then the
business of those in charge so to marshal the train that the "stuff" was
placed in convenient proximity to the engine, and, in the seclusion of
some cutting, a halt would be made for some mysterious reason. To
clamber over the tender into the adjacent waggon was a simple matter.
Still simpler, in expert hands, was the process of forcing up the hoop of
one of the barrels, tapping it and drawing it till the engine bucket
foamed alluringly, then plugging it up again, and drawing back the hoop
into its original position. On delivery the consignee might complain of
short weight, but that it was a question for the brewer and the company
to settle as best they could. None of the running staff knew anything
about it; and, as for the lateness of the train, well, was any train ever
punctual in those days, and who bothered about half an hour's delay?
Besides, there was something more important to bother about. Actions in
Chancery had begun to distract the attention of worried directors, and
these retarded progress with the construction of the line. So it was not
until June 1869 that the Cambrian continued beyond Penmaenpool, and, even
when Dolgelley was eventually approached, passengers had to alight at a
platform some little distance from the town. Only when the Great Western
Railway from Ruabon was completed did the trains from Barmouth Junction
run into Dolgelley station proper.
Many and difficult as were the engineering problems involved in the
construction of the coast line none aroused greater interest or put
scientific skill and courage to a severer test than that, to which we
have already briefly alluded, of carrying the railway over the sand and
river current into Barmouth. To the lay mind it appeared an almost
insuperable task, and there were those who did not hesitate to whisper
their doubts as to its practicability, one well-known local gentleman
being reported to have gone as far as publicly to undertake to eat the
first engine which ever crossed that formidable gulf. But engineers and
craftsmen set to work with a will, and before long what had appeared an
impossibility was rapidly taking shape as an actuality. Eight hundred
yards in length, the greater portion was constructed on timber piles,
over 500 in number, in 113 spans, driven into the sand. The navigable
channel, at the Barmouth end, was crossed by an iron-work construction,
of seven fixed and one opening span. The latter was of the drawbridge
type, and when lifted at one end by means of large screws was carried on
wheels and could be drawn back over the adjoining span.
It was a lengthy as well as a cumbersome operation, and when, in 1899,
the ironwork portion of the viaduct had become too weak for the
constantly increasing loads of developing traffic, it was completely
renewed with a modern steel structure of four spans, one of which was a
spring span, revolving on the centre pier and giving two clear openings.
The piers carrying the girders are formed of columns 8ft. in diameter
sunk through the sand down to solid rock, which was reached at a depth of
about 90 feet below high water mark. The columns are steel cylinders
filled with concrete, and were sunk into position by means of compressed
air on the diving bell principle, and owing to the depth below water at
high tide, the men excavating inside were finally working under a
pressure of three atmospheres, or 45 lbs. to the square inch. The
contractors were the Cleveland Bridge and Engineering Co. Ltd., of
Darlington. In 1906, and the following two or three years, the timber
portion of the viaduct was also completely renewed in the same material,
the contractor in this case being Mr. Abraham Williams of Aberdovey, who
had built, or helped to build, many of the old wooden bridges on the
coast line. The total cost of the renewals was approximately 60,000
pounds, and it is no small achievement that they were carried out without
a moment's stoppage in the traffic.
[Picture: Barmouth Bridge. Reproduced from the "Great Western
Magazine."]
But even the original viaduct, old-fashioned as it may seem now, was a
wonder in those days, and the fact that it carried (and still carries) a
footpath as well as the railway, provides Barmouth with a promenade
unrivalled in character and in range of panorama of river and mountains
and sea anywhere in this country. For a time before it was completely
finished a carriage was drawn over the bridge by horses, but in 1867 it
was opened for regular traffic, and in the first train which crossed it
into Barmouth rode the gentleman, who was under contract to make a meal
of the locomotive. If he had forgotten his rash undertaking, he was very
soon to receive a startling reminder. On safe arrival on the northern
shore, the story goes, he was politely escorted by an official to a table
laid for one, and was courteously requested to elect whether he would
have the engine roast or boiled. Alas! for the frailty of human nature,
more especially where a sense of humour might stand us in good stead.
The sceptic, disillusioned, is stated to have failed to appreciate the
joke!
Once the estuary was bridged, north of Barmouth, the constructional
problems were simpler of solution, and when the contractors reached
Minffordd, they were able to take advantage of an earlier engineering
enterprise, no less remarkable than any railway building. In former days
the sea had covered what is now called the Traeth, the broad valley of
the Glaslyn, stretching from the hillocks of Penrhyndeudraeth to
Moel-y-Gest, overlooking Portmadoc. The tides then surged several miles
up this vale, and washed the walls of Llanfrothen churchyard, while
vessels bore their freights almost up to Pont Aberglaslyn. In 1791 Mr.
Madocks, following the example of earlier builders of sea walls in the
district, purchased the Tan-yr-allt estate, and soon set to work to make
dry land of a large part of the ocean bed. He erected what, in the
locality, is commonly called a "cob," the great embankment which runs
across the mouth of the former estuary, shut out the sea and recaptured
4,500 acres from its rapacious maw. Behind the shelter of this
embankment (along the top of which the Festiniog Railway runs), the new
line was comparatively easily carried over the marshy ground, and no
greater gulf had to be bridged than the narrow channel in which the
river, flowing down from the bosom of Snowdon, some eight or nine miles
away, is now confined.
But there were other difficulties to be faced--difficulties not so easily
overcome as even mountain torrents and sandy estuaries. The hand of the
law was heavy upon the constructors, and even when the line was
practically ready for opening, so long a delay took place in settling
outstanding claims that the track became almost derelict. For these were
anxious days for railway promoters. The rosy promise of rich revenues
from remote Welsh lines failed to mature, and Mr. Savin, heavily weighted
with the immensity of his undertakings, and crushed by the costly
construction of his great hotels, sank under the burden. He faced his
financial embarrassments with characteristic pluck, but it was a dark
hour in the annals of British finance far beyond the boundaries of the
Principality, amidst which came the sensational failure of the Overend
and Gurney Bank, and, so far as the Welsh Coast Railway in particular was
concerned, the interminable legal wrangles not only cost money, but
postponed the hour at which the line could earn its keep.
Even under these adverse circumstances trains did occasionally run,
carrying pigs from Pwllheli, or a small load of coal or timber for some
outlying farmer or builder, or a passenger or two willing to take the
risk of an adventurous journey liable at any moment to be brought to a
sudden termination by the barriers of the bailiffs. But even bailiffs
are human; and at night, when they slept, or were turned away by subtle
hospitality at some neighbouring hostelry, journeys could be made,
dashing down from Portmadoc to Barmouth and back with all the
exhilaration of a secret expedition.
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.