Delaware gazette. [volume] (Delaware, Ohio) 1855-1886, 1864-02-26
DEACON THoRNE'S DLSLoYAL-
By SARAH A DYER.

a
Evening closed darkly around the old gral
farmhouse on the hillside, only a faint line O
light, where the western sky met the earth
telling of the glories Of the vanished day
| Through the dusky gloom came the Gimme
of the lamps fOm the large kitchen, where tn
family were gathered around the coy FIRE
place; the Deacon and his sons, together witt
Geo. Stanly, a young neighbor, discussing
politics; Minnie, his daughter, the rosiest ant
prettiest of the village girls, pairing apple
quite contentedy while in the back ground
Mrs. Thorne eat knitting, her eyes fixed OF
| the beautiful forms which the embers wert
assuming.
The Deacon was getting excited. Hi;
eyes flashed, and he spoke in angry tones
"Don't talk to me, sir; it's an unjust war
fratricidal war, a war cursed by man, aud
| by the Creator. The Institution of slavery
ordained by Jehovah, shall stand while time
continues. Sooner than see my sons engaged
in this wicked cursade against it, would fol.
low them to the grave. Never with my con-
sent shall they enter the ranks of The Union
army"
"Oh, father !" Jamie Thorne raised his ewes
appealingly. For months this had been the
grand dream of his existense. Twas so no
BILE, he thought, to suffer, and die if need be,
for the liberty his forefathers had bequathed
to their sons unstained. He was young and
impulsiVe, and the tears rose to bis eyes as he
walked to the window, and stood looking out
into the night.
NO." resumed the Deacon, ''my boys are
not going to the war. have done all in my
power to discourage enlistments, and I shall
continue to do so. The man who dons the
Federal uniform at such time, and in such a
cause, is no friend of mine"
"Im sorry, sir"-George Stanley was speak
ing now-"for I feel it my duty to go. My
grandsire fell in the old war of the Revolu-
tion, and l should despise myself should bis
descendants prove beneath him in valor and
patriotism. could not stay idly at home,
and retain my selfrespeet. shall enlist, but
l thought, sir, may be you'd give me Minnie
before | went; we've been promised so long"
The Deacon answered him sneeringly: $50
you, toe, have caught the war fever. / gave
you credit for possessing more sense. Mark
my words, George Stanley: Minnie shall never
be yours if you enter the service-never with
my consent, and she dare not draw my curse
upon her by disObeying me- A man who is
dishonorabe enough to fight in such a cause
deserves nothing but contempt"
81 think you're too severe in your remarks,
father, said Davie Thorne, in determined
tone. Il believe that love of country is second
only to love for the Maker. I bad rather 90
with your consent, but if you will not give it,
| must go without it. Jamie is too young for
the hardships of camp life-he can stay with
you on the farm, and shall enlist with George.
L know that my presence will be disagreeabIe
to you, now that 1 have come to this decision,
and 1 will not trouble you longer. Goodbye,
mother; good bye, Minnie;" and Davie Thorne
was gone.
The next day there was another change at
the old farmhouse. jamie had disappeared.
All day long the Deacon paced to and fro
with clouded brow, and when at night word
was brought that his pet SOB had enlisted, his
rage was too deep for words. "Never men
ton their names again." be said to his wife
and daughter. "Henceforth they are dead to
US. have no sons"
The days passed quietly on, until the
springtime scattered blossoms and fragrance
all over the land. Then came those hours of
doubt and despair, which the stricken through
out the length and breadth of the country
have endured. They were ended by letter
in Jamies frank, boyish hand. s'Dear moth
er"-so it ran-''our regiment suffered terri
bly, in the late battle. George and escaped
uniDjured, but Davie is dead, God help you,
mother. know how you suffer-"
After this gloom on the Deacon's face deep
ened, but he showed no sign of reIenting.
Another year of prayful sorrow and patient
waiting passed BY. Then came the raid into
Pennsylvania-the raid which did more to
rouse the latent spirit and patriotism of the
North, than winning many a victory. One
evening a neighbor came hurriedly along the
sandy road, and up the little walk. " The
rebels are coming Deacon" he exclaimed
" They're down at the South Forks. We
have only time to escape y
' think there will be no danger, was the
cool reply. AT any rate, shall stay aud
guard my property. The women can go with
you if they choose, although they will proba-
bly, be as safe here as elsewhere
Half an hour later a motley procession
wound away over the hills, on the road to
safety and security. Deacon Thorne bad his
wife and daughter kind good bye, and re-
turned to his post of watchfulness.
Or they came the minions of slavery, light
ing their path by the lurid glare of burning
houses. The Deacon saw the flames bursting
forth in gorgeous splendor against the sky,
with a strange thrill Of awe and exultation,
MAY such be the fate of all the enemies of
slavery !" he said, halEaloud. Nearer and
nearer they came. Along the dusty road the
shouts of the advancing columns, the tramp Of
armed men, and the clash of musketry were
blended in widest confusion. Alone and un-
armed he advanced 10 meet them.
| You are welcome" he said /; 3" 1 have SYM
pathized with you in your struggles l am
with you heart and soul all ask is that my
home shall remain unmolested."
| Impossible, sir" said the leader Of the reb-
el column. Our orders are to destroy all
that lies within our path. 1t matters not on
what side you are, your buildings must 20 to
add to the bonfire which is lighting the souls
Of the heIlish Yankees down to perdition."
Calmly the Deacon stood by, and saw the
torch applied to his bursting barns and grana-
ries but quiver of agony passed over his
countenance as he saw the old homestead, the
home Of his fathers, consigned to the deVour-
ing element. sa9