Thomas N. Satterfield

The Cartersville Express
Cartersville, Georgia
April 4, 1878, Page 3
Transcribed by:  


Died, at his residence in Cartersville, March 28th, THOMAS N. SATTERFIELD, aged 33 years, after a long and painful illness of several weeks.  His disease, consumption, had been, for two years, slowly, but surely, eating away the strength and vitality of his vigorous young manhood, but so insidious in its workings that until the past few weeks no danger was apprehended by himself and friends, but the works of the almighty are allwise, though they be to us, inscrutable, and while anxious friends so confidently hoped for his recovery, he was fast journeying to the grave; and as he himself expressed it, “while his house was thronged with sympathizing friends, he was praying for forgiveness.”  He embraced religion at the early age of nineteen, and united with the Baptist church fellowship, in which, for a number of years, he lived a devout and zealous member.  Laboring, with all a Christian’s zeal for the advancement of the religion he had embraced, but in later years he was thrown in the way of temptations, and through the influence of evil associations, he was led, like the Prodigal Son, far from the path of Religion, Faith and Love; but blessed be the Father that watches with an absorbing interest.  Even in his most wandering sleep, he was awakened to a sense of his danger, and talked with his wife of again returning to his church, but for several reasons deferred from doing so, until being prostrated on his death bed, and it was then too late.  But for several days before his death his sorrowing wife would talk with him of his approaching death, and almost with his last breath he assured her that his way was clear, and that the only regret he felt was leaving his wife and little ones behind, which devoted love shone forth in his expiring moments, as his last effort on earth was to clasp the bowed head of the heart-broken wife to his bosom and imprint a kiss upon the tear stained face; and while her cross is heavy, she has the blessed assurance that while we mourn the loss of a loving husband, affectionate father, we rejoice that he is now beyond the cares and sufferings of this earth, and has found rest in that happy bourne from whence no traveler returns.  We know that he can never come to us, but we hope some day to be reunited in that House not made with hands, and we look to Him who is Husband to the widow and Father to the fatherless to help us bear our deep affliction.  Farewell, husband, we shall meet on earth no more, but by God’s help we will meet in the happy realms above.

We loved him; yes, no tongue can tell
How much we loved him, and how well—
God loved him, too, and thought it best
To take him where he would be at rest.
F. P. S.

[Another mention of Thomas N. Satterfield’s death can be found on this page which gives his middle name as Newton.]


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