Diary of Corporal John Worrell Northrop: [Sunday], May 8, 1864

VIRGINIA GIRLS OF SWEET SIXTEEN DID NOT LOVE US.

Weather hot; two more trains of Rebel wounded pass. Report that General Wadsworth and others of our valuable generals are killed. At 2 p. m. our train moves for Lynchburg. It is composed of horse and cattle cars all crowded. Charlotteville is beautifully located in a fertile valley. About one mile west is the University of Virginia, founded by Thomas Jefferson. In the vicinity of this edifice were about twenty-five girls. Observing us, they waved their hands in greeting; we waved. We were going slowly; they ran across the green toward Discovering their mistake they bounded up and down and cried "You damned Yankees!" Screaming contemptuously they went back as fast as they came. Procuring a Rebel flag they flirted it at us.

Sweet Virginia maids,
    You love the soil where born;
But you bear a flag that fades;
    Yet I forgive your scorn.

You know not what you do,
    Nor do I court debate;
I'll fling a kiss to you,
    As you bestow your hate.

I wish I had a flower;
    I'd toss it on the lea.
It might perfume this hour
    You sour so on me!

Indeed, I love you, quite
    You so much remind
Of Northern girls as bright,
    Sweet girls I left behind.

Your scorn is hot and keen
    As Yankee girls, I trow;
Though you are sweet sixteen,
    Still sweeter girls I know!

But when this war is o'er
    And purged your blood, that's bad
The Union we'll restore
    And you'll not be so mad.

Yes, when this war is over
    And the Union is restored,
You may want a Yankee lover,
    And not try to feel so bored.

Coquette with old Secech!
    Indeed,, it seems quite sad
That such could make a mash
    On girls and be their fad!

Some brutal nigger-driver,
    Who glories in his lash,
Some slavery conniver
    Might favor such a mash.

But your dear Alma Mater
    Is Jefferson's own school;
He was a slavery hater;
    T. J. - he was no fool!

Haughty maids, good-day-
    When shall we meet again?
You don't seem to like my way,
    Mad maids of Old Virgin.

Observing a large crowd to see us in town, the boys sang national songs, as the train drew in, which the officers stopped. The normal population of Charlotteville is 5,500. The greater portion of the crowd were women who looked at us with apparent interest. There are several hospitals here which are being filled with wounded. Four miles further the engine lost power and half our train is left, I being on the rear car. Before dark guards were stationed and we were ordered out of the cars and camped by the side of the railroad to remain all night. To the left of the road was a high steep bank; on the right a steep declivity, on the west the South Mountains. We had a pleasant talk with some guards who expressed Union sentiments, one, a North Carolinian. When home in April, he said, corn was worth $14 per bushel Confederate scrip; only 50c in silver.

A woman passing, said: "It is hard times; the people had not reckoned on the possibility of failure; for myself I did not deem it possible that all their lofty expectations would be realized."

SOURCE: John Worrell Northrop, Chronicles from the Diary of a War Prisoner in Andersonville and Other Military Prisons of the South in 1864, p. 41-2