Moore was sent in
advance to break the enemy's onset. With him were the troops
from the 18th Connecticut and 123rd Ohio infantry; the 34th
Massachusetts brought up the artillery, while one company was
detached and thrown out as skirmishers in the woods of the river
bank. The line across the rising ground of another slope in
front was held by Moore. What a moment of awful suspense it must
have been when Breckenridge moved to attack with the veteran
brigades of Echols and Whartons! How the mountain must have sent
back the roaring echoes as McLaughlin's artillery went into
action on a sharp ridge that ran parallel with the pike!
Breckenridge overlapping Moore drove him in confusion to the
rear and with scarcely a pause came in excellent order against
Thoburn's position, but the gallant men of the Union right
checked him, whereupon Imboden, who was in command of
Breckenridge's cavalry, galloped with all possible haste down
Smith creek on the east bank to the bridge on Luray road in
order to get on Siegel's left flank. Here the cavalry were
routed and retreated hastily up the road, one battery being
captured. Moore's troops rallied on Rude's Hill and the 28th and
116th Ohio were brought up from the charge of the wagons. Siegel
resumed his retreat up the pike, crossed the Shenandoah river to
Jackson, burned the bridge behind him and went into camp behind
Cedar creek.
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.
