at Chancellorsville, for
General Sedgwick to assume a threatening attitude--to make a severe
demonstration--but to make no attack. There was much marching and
getting into position, and regiments and divisions were marched and
countermarched in such a manner as to convey to the rebels the
impression that a grand attack was to be made at that point. The enemy
was evidently deceived by these maneuvers, and heavy columns of rebel
infantry commenced to form upon the old battle-field. While we stood in
line of battle, one of our bands near the skirmish line struck up the
air, "Dixie." The rebels, hearing the strains, set up defiant cheers,
which were answered by our army in the most tremendous shouts
imaginable. The contest seemed for the time to depend on strength of
lung, and our boys certainly beat them at shouting.

As the sun disappeared behind the hills, when Hooker's guns were
thundering, we retired to our tents. All day long the earth had been
shaken by tremendous firing of artillery on the right; and now, as
darkness gathered over the scenes of conflict, the thundering of the
guns and the trembling of the earth seemed like a succession of
earthquakes. The spirit of our boys rose, as the battle on the right
progressed, and there seemed to be indications of work for them. Groups
might be seen at any time, when we were not standing in line of battle,
telling yarns, singing songs, playing ball and pitching quoits, while
they momentarily looked for the order to advance upon the heights, into
the very jaws of death.

Saturday morning, May 2d, the First corps was withdrawn from its
position; its bridges were taken up, and the corps moved past us up the
river to join the main body of the army under Hooker, on the right. The
Seventy-seventh was sent to do picket duty on the ground occupied by the
First corps the night before. Our reserve was posted a little way from
the river, in a pleasant field, where the fresh clover furnished a soft
bed for the men, and a dainty bite for our horses. Just in front of us
was a lovely spot--the residence of Doctor Morson, for fifteen years a
surgeon in the United States navy. The place was in remarkable order;
the gardens in full bloom, the mocking birds building their nests, and
the greenlets warbling sweetly among the flowering shrubs.

We strolled along the banks of the beautiful river, gathering flowers
and glancing at our "secesh" neighbors on the opposite bank, only a few
yards di