The Caledonian. [volume] (St. Johnsbury, Vt.) 1837-1867, 1866-03-16
Cyrus.



y comfortable two-story log house, sur
rounded ly three or four Iog out-house>,
gave life to a little clearing in one of the
northern counties of Georgia. A rude
RAJ lence, without any gate, enclosed the
house, lot and garden inside Of which Il
grove Of magnificent locust and maple
trees shaded the grassy yard. The little
farm spread It's meadow and cornfelds,
everywhere clean, compact and thrifty, TO
where the heavy forests swept down and
shut III all the view, excepting on the
west There the distant Saluda noun
talns formed a wide reaching and lovely
view.
Such house and farm indicated decid-
ed comfort and independence For this
was part OF the country where poor
family lived in hut without windows,
and only the wealthy slave owners pre-
tended to the luxurieS of weather boards.
plaster and paint.
The onl y hand" visible on this small
plantation was Il little fellow clad in new
SUIT OF hulternut, standing in the porch.
with a S;,tcleI on his shoulder and we'll
trimmed hickory stick in his hand This
was Cyrus Randall, just starting for Ma
con to see his father, who WAS iii prison
there l!lrce months before the scceS>ion-
l>ts OF the nci i1hboring town had laid
hands on the honest man, who would not
deny the flag OF his country by taking the
confederate oath and had hurried him oft
to Macon, a hundred miles away. without
a moments warning. Here he had been
thrown INTO the loath>ome negro prison.
then INTO the common Jail. with hundreds
OF suffering Union prisoners taken from
the federal army There Is no child at
the North who has not read the dreadful
story OF Southern prisons After Il while
they Were all removed TO Il military prs
Oh. or >tocAadc. erected purpo>cly for
them. From this place, at last, Mr..
h"id;ilI had been able to send Il letter TO
his family. Not Il word had passed be-
tween them before. The letter said a>
little rs possible OF his >utitrings. but il
showed that his anxiety for his family
WAS more dreadful than everything else
he had to bear. He had lett. in August.
three small children. of whom Cyrus was
the oldest, hi wife and mother. where he
knew well they had more enemies than
trlcn,i>. The autumn harvest WIS not vet
gathered. and there was no one to do it,
Tor no slave toiieI for him. all tue com
tort OF his thrifty little plantation wa, the
honest fruit OF his own labor Would
they not >iarvc! The PRISON was full Of
r'nnor>: they said the Union army. under
ho~ccranS. was approaching Chattanooga.
ihv war path might cross his own fields.
and rebel soldiers be qurrtcrcd in his
house and burns. He thought hc had
learned 10 trust III God but he found the
trust, which htl been sufficient for pros
porous days. too feeble for the depths OF Il
iopri@ss PRISON. Then there WAS con-
~tanrly presented to him the dreadful temp
tation to cain his freedom by takin" the
confederate oath. Have You thought well
pt the sublime and patient courage OF
these men who, with death gnawng at
their Nll;li-. and lying about them in every
hldeoa> form, might, by simply swearing.
that oath, have purchased their lives and
who yet refused the price
Il a
ly. They read with tears. but bitter in
dl@nallOn. Z" He mustn't swear for them.
mother. SAID Cyrus. If he only knew
how We'll we are getting along sail his
mother. "lle mustn't yicld," sad the
grandmother. Then, ;s they sat over the
letter, an idea entered Cyrus head
Couldn't he 90 and see hi, tat!cr.' He
va, sure he could he would tell him
how well they managed; how he had duo
the potatoes, and hauled the wood. and
pulled and husked the corn, and plowed
the lot, and planted the winter wheat.
For he had done I'LL this. and more. The
child had done a mans work. with a low
al and dutllul heart, ever since his father
imprisonment. And this boy was only
eight years old. \ - fact for boys" who
do an hours chores a day. and are some
times guilty Of grumbling about their
~orA. Let me 90, mother; do let me
60, Cyrus pleaded. The plea was Seri-
ously debated, a,d at last consented TO.
with many miSgivings Letters We're
written. little comforts for the prisoner
were hastily packed up, and the boy was
ready for his remarkable journey.
Cyrus sprang over the fence and hur,
RED through the lane, hcdged with elder
and chlnquapin bushes, to the main road
n crowd of tancicS filled his mind
W hat lay between him and Macon >
What adventures would he meet! There
were twenty miles of forest and old field
over which he must walk before he reach.
ed the railroad station, unless he could oe
a chance TO ride: there was a ralroa,
Journey, the steam cars which he hac
never seen there were towns full of reb
els and country full of prowling soldiers
maybe: there We're reckless Williams, who
hunted Union men and hung them by til,
roadside; and there was great city anl
a prison at the end of his journey
Enough to make feeble feet turn back
but not enough to daunt the heart of thi.
young georgia patriot. His grandmothe
mad sad 1t is for the country :" an,
he knew it was for his father, too.
1t was not till after he had passed til,
town, where he was well known as til,
son of an abOlitionist. that he mustere,