The daily Green Mountain freeman. [volume] (Montpelier, Vt.) 1861-1865, 1861-05-21
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Woman Heart still True to the Union.
The following extract from letter OF {
popular authoress to q brother, we find in th,
Literary Crusader, printed in Atlanta, Gcor
gia. 1t is written in the icrvid language ant
temper Of warm-hcarted and patriotic wo
man:
Every thing is going to the bad" %; moth
ing hea of but secession, revolution, starva.
tion, and war, with all its attendant horrors
| almost dread to pick up a paper nowadays
and yet for my lie can't keep my hands of
them.
You can scarcely sec one without finding in
it some account Of the pulling down of the
dear old flag for which our fathers Ioug and
died. beneath whose protection we have lived
so happily the rending asunder Of hallowed
ties ; the funeral dirge OF beloved and time
honored Institutions. And what cau we look
Tor in It's sead ? Nothing but desolaton, an
archy, aid blood. In the last CRUSADER I
saw this little paragraph " 1t is singular
coincidence that the grandfather of Major
Robert Anderson was an officer in the Amer
lean lines at the seige of Charleston, in 1880,
by the British army, when it was captured by
Cornwallis, their commander. Eighty .one
years nave passed away, aud the town which
the grandfather fought to save, is now in
arms against the grandson"
In another paper sec it stated than Con
CIinch, the father-in-law Of Msjcr Anderson,
is the commander of the secession forces at
Charleston. These are some of tho first
fruits of disuuion-thc rending asunder of
natural tics, the arraying OF parcot against
child, and brother against brother, in q
bloody, inhuman and iratricdA war.
| reud the other day letter from Jcrre
Clemens, containing an account Of the tear
ing down of the National Flag, and running
up the Flag OF Alabama i'll its place, aud |
cried over 1t like a very child. My eyes
overflow as | write, and the burden of tears
lies heavy on my heart all the day long. |
have f. tor the past month as though were
sitting by the bedside OF a dear friend, tch
lng the approach Of the dread stroy cr, but
stl!I hoping against hope that the uplilted
hand might be staid.
Ii hear q strain Of one Of our old ma
tional melodies, it sends an icy chill to my
neurt like the falling of tie earth upon
cOffin-.id. Never would have believed tha'
tn sc clarion notes, that once sent the blood
bounding through my veins, would ever fall
so like wall Of despair upon my car. 1t
is uc | love the South-my hopes and my
prayers are with her-but not to the exclu-
sion OF al! other portions Of my country
Although love the Old Dominion as
the one Of my n.o,hcr; the blue mountains
of Tennessee as the shrine Of many fond as
soclutious, the happy home OF dear brother
nj sister, and the birthplace of our four
little darl,ngs, dear 10 me as the apple OF
NINE eye - thou h tho banks Of The
Great RIVER are sacred to tho memory Of
- loves young drram,' and endeared to me
by the cain, sweet hours Of Il welded lille,
aud the God-glvco treasure of my little blue
eyed pet; yet sll can not forget that cold
and still, in one OF OMos silent cities lies
my beautiful mother that upon the " messy
noun )" and b. side the singing streams
OF the O.d ke one Safe, laughed and
sang away the sunny hours of childhood
anl there, too, still watching prayeriuIly
the tate of the loved ones who have gone out
from the shadow OF the old root tree. to liud
II ONE in lie land of the song bind and the
sunbeam, a ths b essed old 10 ks al ome.
10 me there is no North, no South, 10 East,
no Ne,t; and al is MY country, all my
kindred Alas, that | should see that coun-
try, struggling, dying! Forbid it, Heaven,
that | should live to weep amid my country s
ruin