Strange scenes were witnessed at Pontrhydfendigaid. One evening, when David Morgan was speaking to a large band of converts, the thought of the mystery and the glory of the power that was attracting so many into the Kingdom overwhelmed him, and he fell prostrate on the floor and lay for a space as dead. James Morgan, who was at a table recording their names, fell likewise and lay unconscious on the floor. "Mortal flesh," wrote one who was present, "can hardly endure these strange and terrible forces."
In this village a Christian family grieved over an unconverted son. He was a reckless collier, the black sheep of the flock. He had taken his journey to Glamorganshire, and in that far country he wasted his substance.
*' Oh that William was home to be saved! '* sighed his sister. He had not sent them his address, so they joined to pray for his return. A few evenings later David Morgan was to preach there, and who walked into the house in the afternoon before the service, but the wanderer! *'0 William! where have you come from?" cried his mother, falling on his neck. They were now almost ashamed that their faith had not placed a cup and saucer on the tea-table in expectation of him. "Is everything all right here?" asked William. " Three days ago at Fochriw, a presentiment that I couldn't shake off came to my mind that I was wanted here, and here I am! " They said not a word to him about the Revival, but William was one of the first to go forward that night to the penitent seat.
An open-air prayer-meeting was held on a plateau two miles away. Irresistible forces swept over the mixed multitude that gathered there. Strapping shepherds and stalwart farmers from the highlands beyond rolled on the grass as if seized by the pangs of mortality. Thomas Williams, a fuller, lifted up his voice, "Hold Thine hand, Lord; slay us not: we can bear no more."
It was in this boggy, hilly district that David Jones prayed, ** Make us all wheat, pure wheat. Lord; no one but Thyself would ever have thought of raising wheat on this mountain."
Pontrhydfendigaid is a village of less than 800 inhabitants, but during the Revival more than 400 converts united themselves to the Calvinistic Methodist church.
From, 'The '59 Revival', by J J Morgan, page 34-5.