Tanchwa yn Cilfynydd/Explosion at Cilfynydd

Explosion at Cilfynydd

gan Anhysbys


wedi'i gyfieithu gan Anhysbys

EXPLOSION AT CILFYNYDD.

279 KILLED.

On Saturday afternoon, June 23, 1894, another was added to the terrible list of explosions in the South Wales Coalfield. The Albion Colliery is situated at Cilfynydd, about two miles from Pontypridd. The pit was opened in 1887, and about 1,600 men are employed therein. The repairers had descended to their work in the afternoon, when, about four o'clock, a tremendous report was heard, and a vast column of smoke was seen ascending from the shaft. At first it was believed that an underground boiler had burst, but it was soon known that something more serious had happened. An exploring party descended in about half an hour, and two hours later, signals were given that men were to be brought up. Sixteen men, very badly injured, were brought up—nine of whom died shortly after. It is believed that 279 have succumbed to the effects of the explosion and afterdamp. Considerable damage has been done to the pit, and extensive falls have been observed. Luckily the fan was not injured, so the ventilating arrangements are complete. The bodies raised are mostly very sadly injured, showing the force of the explosion to be very great. No cause for the accident has yet been found, but some authorities ascribe it to either shot- firing or coal dust. 11 bodies were buried unidentified.

Once again the cruel angel
Has descended on our land,
And nearly three hundred victims
Have been vanquished by his hand;
At Cilfynydd there is weering
'Neath this sudden cruel blow,
Wives and children are lamenting
For their loved ones thus laid low

From the Albion Pit the colliers
Had departed on that day,
The repairers had descended,
Each had gone a different way;
Suddenly a sound of terror
Shakes the ground with mighty blow,
Whilst a cloud of smoke to hoaven
From the shaft does slowly go


What is wrong? 'Tis an Explosion!
Ah! too true this woeful tale;
Haste was made to give assistance,
From this task did no ono quail;
At the pit-head crowds were waiting,
While the hours went slowly by.
And the tear of grief and sorrow
Gently flowed from weeping eye.

Now some men are gently brought up,
Badly burnt, but still alive—
If they all could be safe rescued
How our hearts with joy would thrive!
"Sixteen men have come back safely,
But the rest, we fear, are dead."
Oh! this news of grief and horror
Bows with sorrow every head.

Back the rescuers are coming
Bringing news of dread and woe—
Heaps of dead men, torn and battered,
Filed together liked the snow;
For the fire and deadly gases
Full destruction now have done—
All these had been fought and vanquished
Ere had set the evening sun.

All the night saw toil and labour,
And when rose the sun that day,
Corpses there in endless number
Caused each heart to feel dismay;
Wives were weeping and lamenting
For their loved ones lying dead.
May the Lord cause peace and comfort
To descend on every head.