Year: 1877

The Explosion at the rrocdyrhlw Col- liery near Pontypridd = Cymric Hymns i'm Cimerlan Darkness. It may be surprising to learn that the attention of England has Eeen turned during the week from the gathering of the armies in the east and directed to a little hamlet in south Wales. It is not hard to find in human nature the reason for this. The looming war, with all it's probabilities of slaughter, of desolated homes, of widows and orphans by the hundred thousand, had only been re- garded in the popular mind through dip lomatic lenses. The war was still a game of chess, but suffering brought to the peoples doors, as it were, by the aid of newspapers, caught the sympathy of the million. It was the story ofa disaster at the collieries. Scores of such calamities to the men who work away dowd in the dark: taking their lives by hundreds at a time, have occurred within the last few years in England, and the horrors of them have arrested attention for day or two. They were stories of sudden catas- trophes low subterranean rumbling heard; a column of smoke rising into the air; the gathering of whitehead women and children at the pits mouth; after some hours the bringing forth of grimy corpses in the cage; next day a great funeral that shook the whole country side with it's passionate grief, and then all over All over in two or three days. But there at Pontypridd there was 8 prolonged agony. The correspondents of the morning and evening papers poured into London's great ear, hour by hour. the intensity of the effort and suspense that hung around the Troedyrhlw col fiery until London could think or speak of nothing else.

 THE DISASTER.

 An explosion, followed by an inunda- tion, occurred ten days ago. Nine men were imprisoned behind column of coal one hundred and twenty feet thick, which had fallen with the first shock. There was mystery about their fate, but the warm hearts of tho south Wales colliers decided swiftly that if sturdy arms could unravel that mystery ere too late, it should be done. Work was begun and willing hands were superabundant. Night and day the toll was unremitting, and so it went for a week before the first ray of hope was given to the t0ilers. As the time rolled on the interest grew, and London held its breath in anxiety to learn the fate of the imprisoned or en tombed. At length on Thursday last sufficient progress had been made to open communication with group of the men five in number, the other four having wandered away to other parts of the mine Now came the awful moment. Brave, tireless, ceaseless, and sleepless- the rescuers worked inch by inch to their brethren in the living tomb, guided only by their knockings from the gloom. As the rescuers worked onward the voices of the men in the dark could be heard singing their Cymric hymns Tears of joy welled down faces black with coal dust at the solemn sounds that told them that God was strengthening the hearts of their comrades to endure till they could be saved.

 THE RESCUE.

 At last passage was made, and one by one, weak, but still alive, the five men were borne on brawny arms to the light of day. This was yesterday after noon. Hundreds of thousands all over the land wept with joy. In London the excitement knew no bounds. The home secretary was questioned in the house of commons to know if the news twas authentic; the queen telegraphed to Wales for confirmation crowds gath. cred around the newspaper bulletin the papers are full of the praise of the res cuers, the details of the rescue and the strong endurance of the men who were saved. The Welsh bravery of last week will be sung in the Eistedfodds of the Cymri for ages.-N r. Herald.