The Country Which Now Lies In Quiet Beauty Here Was Ravaged.
Beeves, Sheep, And Grain Were Taken; The Mills And Factories Of
Staunton Were Burned, Also The Railroad Bridges And Telegraph
Wires Were Destroyed.
It must have been a most dreadful sight
for the inhabitants of this fertile valley to witness the
eighteen thousand men under Crook, Averell, and Hunter marching
through the fields of luxuriant wheat that half hid them from
view.
The ground was comparatively level and an army could
spread out and march with much greater rapidity although its
numbers were large.
Hunter had to retreat from Lynchburg with Early in pursuit. So
closely was he pursued that the mules and horses died for want
of fodder and rest; cattle were driven along by day and eaten at
night; many wagons had to be burned because there were not
enough animals to draw them. Such was the cruel fate of war in
this lovely and fertile valley.
But you quickly forget scenes like this as you see these
glorious mountains clothed in exquisite veils that brood over
their serene loveliness, steeping their sunny outlines in
infinite gradations of azure and purple hues. The swift flowing
streams with their liquid music rising from the distant woods;
the graceful forms of hemlock and elm; the dim twilight vistas
always cool and soft with emerald mosses redolent with the
breath of pine and sweet scented fern - all combine to make this
a place of wonderful charm where you are prone to tarry.
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