The Shasta courier., 1866-03-31
SHASTA COURIER.
Deacon Thorne's Disloyahy.

Evening closed darkly around the old gray
farm house on the hillside, only faint line
of light, where. the western sky met the
earth, telling the glories of the vanished day.
Through the dusky gloom came the glimmer
of the lamps from the large kitchen, where
the family were gathered around the COW
fire. .place-the deacon and his sons together
with George Stanly, a young neighbor, dis
cussing politics Minnie, the daughter, the
rosiest and prettiest of village girls, pairing
apples quite contentedly, while in the back
ground Mrs. Thorne sat knitting, her eyes
fixed on the beautiful forms which the en-
bers were assuming.
The deacon was getting excited. His eyes
| flashed, and he spoke in hasty, angry tones.
Don't talk to me sir {! It's an unjust
war, war cursed by man and the creator
The institution of slavery, ordained by
Jehovah, shall stand while times continues.
Sooner than see my sons engaged in this
| them to the grave. Never with my consent,
shall they enter the ranks of the Union
army
"Oh father" Jamie Thorne raised his
eyes appealingly. For months this had been
the grand dream of his existence.
Twas so noble, he thought, to suffer and
die, if need be, for the liberty his fore
fathers bequeathed to their sons unstained.
He was young and impulsive, and the tears
rose to his eyes as he walked to the window,
and stood looking out in the night
NO. resumed the deacon, ''my bows
are not going to the war. have done all in
my power to discourage enlistments and l
shall continue to do so. The man who dons
the Federal uniform at such time and in
such cause is no friend of mine."
"I am sorry, SIR" George Stanley was
speaking now, " for l feel it my duty to go.
My grandsire fell in the old war of the
revolution, and l should despise myself
should his descendants prove beneath him in
valor and patriotism. | could not stay idly
at home and retain my self respect shall
enlist. but thought, sir, may be you'd give
me Minnie before l went, we have been
promised so long"
The deacon answered him sneeringly =
$50 you, too, have caught the war fever /
gave you the credit for possessing more
sense. Mark my words, George Stanley,
MiInie shall never be yours if you enter
the army-never with my consent, and she
dare not draw my curse upon her by dis.
obeying me. A man who is dishonorable
enough to fight in such cause, deserves
nothing but contempt"
marks, father" said Davie Thorne, in
determined tone, :" | believe love of country
second only to love for our maker. would
rather 20 with your consent, but if you will
not give it | must go without it. Jamie is
too young for the hardshps of camp life-he
can stay with you on the farm, and | shall
enlist with George. know that my presence
will be disagreeable to you, now that have
come to this decision. and | will not trouble
you longer. Good bye mother, good bye
Minnie" and Davie Thorne was gone.
The next day there was another change at
the old farm house. 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 had enlisted, his
rage was too deep for words
Never mention their names again." said
he to his wife and daughter. Henceforth
they are dead to us. have no sons"
The days passed quietly on until the spring
time scattered blossoms and fragrance all
over. Then came the hours of doubt and
disd lin which the stricken throughout the
length and breadth of the country have en-
dured They were ended by letter in
Jamie's frank boysh hand.
" Dear mother,-so it ran - our regi-
ment suffered severely in the late BATTLE
George and l escaped uninjured, but Davie
is dead. God help you, mother | know
you suffer-"
After this the gloom on the deacon's face
deepened but he showed no signs of relent-
ing.
Another year of prayerful sorrow and ra
tient watching 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 victory.
One evening neighbor came hurriedly
along the sandy road, and up the little walk
The rebels are coming, Deacon he said
= they're down at the South Forks, we
have only time to escape"
81 think there will be no danger" was
the cool reply. AT any rate, shall stay
and guard my property. The women can
90 with you if. they choose, although they
will be as safe here as elsewhere
Half an hour later a motley procession
wound its way ever the hills, on the road to
safety and security. Deacon Thorne bade
his wife and daughter kind goodbye, and
returned to his post of watchfulness.
On thew came the minions of slavery,
lighting their path by the lurid glare of
burning houses. The deacon saw the fame
bursting forth in gorgeous splendor against
the sky with a strange thrill of awe and ex-
ultation.
May such be the fate of all enemies of
slavery" half aloud.
Nearer and nearer they came. Along the
dusty road the shouts of the advancing
column, the tramp of armed men and the
crash of musketry were blended in widest
confusion. Alone and unarmed he advanced
to meet them.
"You are welcome" he said, ~ have
sympathized with you in your struggle l
am with you heart and soul. All ask Is
that my home may be unmolested.
Impossible. SIR" answered the leader of
the rebel column "Our orders are to de
stroy all that lies in our path. 1t matters
not on which side you are your buildings
must go to add to the bonfire which is light
ning the souls of the hellish Yankees down
to perdition"
! Calmly the deacon stood by and saw the