The great Anglesey preacher, William Roberts, Amlwch, and other ministers gathered at Amlwch Port to hear David Morgan, and an elder said to him as they entered, "I hope, Mr Morgan, that the presence of these notabilities will be no snare to you this afternoon." "Not at all," he replied with dignity; " this has not cost me so little that I need fear men, great or small."
This was a terrible day at Amlwch, for the neighbouring beach was strewn with corpses (The Royal Charter had sunk after hitting rocks), and the rustle of Azrael's wings had not yet died out of the awed air. The Revivalist's text was, "Awake, awake, Zion," Etc Morris Roberts had sown his wild oats in youth, and one night, intoxicated, he had cast himself into the Red Lake, bent on suicide. The ice-cold waters sobered him, and henceforward the way of sinners knew him no more. He would break into "praise" in the services in periods when the harps of all his brethren were hung upon the willows. His solitary song rebuked the dumb spirit in them and often embarrassed the preachers, so at last he was frowned and threatened into silence. When the multitude became like a cauldron of boiling water in David Morgan's meeting, the old man looked around with incredulous astonishment. "OhoI " he cried, "old Morris has had his jacket laced in the past, but thank God! they are all Morrises tonight." When he heard the name of a profligate and desperate character announced as one of the converts, he cried again, " Glory! the net of the Gospel has caught a crocodile tonight."
The Revivalist stayed overnight in the pastor's house, who wrote: "I shall never forget his prayer at family worship. When I told him that I had a distant engagement on the Sabbath, he said, ' Hurry home! There will be a great work waiting for you.' It was so; fifty converts came in at the next church-meeting, and many hundreds altogether in Amlwch."
The following incident was vouched for in every detail by an honoured minister, the Rev. Robert Hughes, Gaerwen: A lady among the converts informed David Morgan that her husband was unsaved, and with his ship at Calcutta. Praying for her, he cried three times with earnest feeling, "Lord, remember the captain! " Twelve months later he returned home, his air subdued and gentle, not boisterous and headstrong as of old. "Are you ill?" inquired his wife. " No," he answered; " but twelve months ago, in my cabin at Calcutta, a verse came into my mind with great force, and I have not been the same man since."
From, 'The '59 Revival', by J J Morgan, pages 168-9.