Maryland: she spurns the Northern scum!

After shots were fired on Fort Sumter, President Abraham Lincoln sent federal troops to protect Washington, D.C. The troops traveled through Baltimore, Maryland on the way. The people of Maryland were not yet decided if they would join the Confederacy or stay with the Union. A pro-Confederate mob soon attacked, resulting in what was termed the Baltimore Riot.

In response, James Ryder Randall, a displaced Baltimorean in Louisiana, tried to rally his home state by writing "Maryland, My Maryland." It was published on April 26, 1861, three days after being written; the poet was 22 years old. It was soon set to music but it was not until 1939 that it became the official state song of Maryland. It remains controversial for its anti-Union message and its references to Lincoln as a "tyrant" and "despot."

The despot's heel is on thy shore,
      Maryland!
His torch is at thy temple door,
      Maryland!
Avenge the patriotic gore
That flecked the streets of Baltimore,
And be the battle queen of yore,
      Maryland! My Maryland!

Hark to an exiled son's appeal,
      Maryland!
My Mother State! to thee I kneel,
      Maryland!
For life or death, for woe or weal,
Thy peerless chivalry reveal,
And gird thy beauteous limbs with steel,
      Maryland! My Maryland!

...Dear Mother! burst the tyrant's chain,
      Maryland!
Virginia should not call in vain,
      Maryland!
She meets her sisters on the plain-
Sic semper! 'tis the proud refrain
That baffles minions back amain,
      Maryland!
Arise in majesty again,
      Maryland! My Maryland!

I see the blush upon thy cheek,
      Maryland!
For thou wast ever bravely meek,
      Maryland!
But lo! there surges forth a shriek,
From hill to hill, from creek to creek,
Potomac calls to Chesapeake,
      Maryland! My Maryland!

Thou wilt not yield the Vandal toll,
      Maryland!
Thou wilt not crook to his control,
      Maryland!
Better the fire upon thee roll,
Better the shot, the blade, the bowl,
Than crucifixion of the Soul,
      Maryland! My Maryland!

I hear the distant thunder-hum,
      Maryland!
The Old Line bugle, fife, and drum,
      Maryland!
She is not dead, nor deaf, nor dumb—
Huzza! She spurns the Northern scum!
She breathes! She burns! She'll come! She'll come!
      Maryland! My Maryland!