A few Southern horsemen would watch them at a great distance and then ride sadly away.

There was nothing in the valley that could oppose Sheridan.
Dick's leggings, and his overcoat with an extremely high collar, kept him dry and warm and he was too seasoned to mind the flying mud which thousands of hoofs sent up, and which soon covered them.

The swift movement and the expectation of achieving something were exhilarating in spite of every hardship and obstacle.
That night they reached the village of Woodstock, and the next day they crossed the north fork of the Shenandoah, already swollen by the heavy rains.

The engineers rapidly and dexterously made a bridge of the pontoon boats, and the ten thousand thundered over in safety.
The next night they were at a little place called Lacy's Springs, sixty miles from Winchester, a wonderful march for two days, considering the heavy rains and deep mud, and they had not yet encountered an enemy.
How different it would have been in Stonewall Jackson's time! Then, not a mile of the road would have been safe for them.

It was ample proof of the extremities to which the Confederacy was reduced.