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Browsing named entities in a specific section of The Daily Dispatch: June 6, 1861., [Electronic resource]. Search the whole document.

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Maryland (Maryland, United States) (search for this): article 6
m writing you. I am boiling over with indignation. I once prayed for peace; but now, next to begging the blessing of God, I pray-- "Hurrah for Jeff, Davis and the Southern Confederacy!" And, woman as I am, if I knew the way, I would walk out of Maryland until my foot rested on more Southern soil. --You are happy, indeed, and have nothing to contend with in comparison with we poor Baltimoreans — or, I should have said, Marylanders — for here there are hearts that beat as warm to the South as eve; others are almost ready to hang Old Hicks; and, but for the men, I believe they would; others, and I among the number, are ready to shoulder our muskets to defend the just and holy cause of the South--in case the Men fail. In the event of Maryland doing anything that would seem hostile to the South, do you, and beg your friends, to keep one sympathising thought for those who are with you in spirit; for "'Tis home where e'er the heart is." How I would love to be able to talk to y
peak of you with the rest of your friends, and I envy your living in the bosom of a home which we are denied. You cannot see as well as we how miserably our happiness, our liberty, our homes, have been sold by traitors, who would risk all this to be the pampered minions of Abe Lincoln and his party. I can scarcely control myself whilst I am writing you. I am boiling over with indignation. I once prayed for peace; but now, next to begging the blessing of God, I pray-- "Hurrah for Jeff, Davis and the Southern Confederacy!" And, woman as I am, if I knew the way, I would walk out of Maryland until my foot rested on more Southern soil. --You are happy, indeed, and have nothing to contend with in comparison with we poor Baltimoreans — or, I should have said, Marylanders — for here there are hearts that beat as warm to the South as ever throbbed at the guns of Charleston. We are not conquered, and never will be; and God grant that before long the flag of secession may wave over our c
k and speak of you with the rest of your friends, and I envy your living in the bosom of a home which we are denied. You cannot see as well as we how miserably our happiness, our liberty, our homes, have been sold by traitors, who would risk all this to be the pampered minions of Abe Lincoln and his party. I can scarcely control myself whilst I am writing you. I am boiling over with indignation. I once prayed for peace; but now, next to begging the blessing of God, I pray-- "Hurrah for Jeff, Davis and the Southern Confederacy!" And, woman as I am, if I knew the way, I would walk out of Maryland until my foot rested on more Southern soil. --You are happy, indeed, and have nothing to contend with in comparison with we poor Baltimoreans — or, I should have said, Marylanders — for here there are hearts that beat as warm to the South as ever throbbed at the guns of Charleston. We are not conquered, and never will be; and God grant that before long the flag of secession may wave over
Abe Lincoln (search for this): article 6
oung daughter of Baltimore writes to a schoolmate and friend in Charleston: Baltimore, May 16, 1861. You must pardon me for intruding upon you an expression of my Southern sentiment. I so often think and speak of you with the rest of your friends, and I envy your living in the bosom of a home which we are denied. You cannot see as well as we how miserably our happiness, our liberty, our homes, have been sold by traitors, who would risk all this to be the pampered minions of Abe Lincoln and his party. I can scarcely control myself whilst I am writing you. I am boiling over with indignation. I once prayed for peace; but now, next to begging the blessing of God, I pray-- "Hurrah for Jeff, Davis and the Southern Confederacy!" And, woman as I am, if I knew the way, I would walk out of Maryland until my foot rested on more Southern soil. --You are happy, indeed, and have nothing to contend with in comparison with we poor Baltimoreans — or, I should have said, Marylander
May 16th, 1861 AD (search for this): article 6
A Spartan Girl. --A young daughter of Baltimore writes to a schoolmate and friend in Charleston: Baltimore, May 16, 1861. You must pardon me for intruding upon you an expression of my Southern sentiment. I so often think and speak of you with the rest of your friends, and I envy your living in the bosom of a home which we are denied. You cannot see as well as we how miserably our happiness, our liberty, our homes, have been sold by traitors, who would risk all this to be the pampered minions of Abe Lincoln and his party. I can scarcely control myself whilst I am writing you. I am boiling over with indignation. I once prayed for peace; but now, next to begging the blessing of God, I pray-- "Hurrah for Jeff, Davis and the Southern Confederacy!" And, woman as I am, if I knew the way, I would walk out of Maryland until my foot rested on more Southern soil. --You are happy, indeed, and have nothing to contend with in comparison with we poor Baltimoreans — or, I s