On the last day of April we crossed the Rapidan, fording its breast-deep current, considered too strong for the pontoons, and wondering, especially as the cannonading of the evening previous indicated resistance ahead, that our advance was not at this point impeded. Artillery planted upon the circling hills of the opposite shore would have made the passage, if even practicable, perilous to the last degree. As it was, however, in puris naturalibus, with cartridge-box on the musket barrel, and the musket on the shoulder, clothing in many instances bundled upon the head, the troops made the passage. The whys and the wherefores of no opposition—the confidence of Old Joe having stolen a march upon Johnny Reb—and the usual surmises of the morrow—increased in this instance by our having surprised and captured some Rebel pickets when just about
halting, constituted ample capital for conversation during our night's rest in a pine grove two miles south of the ford.
With the Army of the Potomac the merry month of May had a lively opening. After a march from early dawn, we found our Division, about the middle of the forenoon, massed in a thick wood in the rear of a large and imposing brick building, which, with one or two buildings of minor importance, constituted what was designated upon our pocket maps as the town of Chancellorsville. The region of country was most appropriately styled "The Wilderness." A wilderness indeed, of tall oaks, and a dense undergrowth known as "black-jack." There were but few open places or improved spots. In one of the largest of these, at a point where two prominent roads forked, stood the large building above mentioned. The day previous General Lee and his staff had been hospitably entertained within its walls. Now our fine-looking Commander and his gay and gallant staff were busily engaged in its lower rooms, while the ladies of the house of Secesh sympathies kept themselves closely in the upper story,—their curiosity tempting them however, to occasional peeps from half-opened shutters at the blue coats below.
At twelve, precisely, just as we had taken a position in the open ground abreast of the house, the sharp report of a rifled piece, followed quickly by the fainter explosion of a shell, was heard upon our left. Another and another succeeded,—indicating that the wood was being shelled preparatory to an advance in that direction. Slowly we filed to the left, proceeding by a narrow winding wood-road until the head of our column had almost reached the
river. A sudden order at this stage for the right about created considerable surprise, which ceased shortly after, as the sharp rattle of musketry, now as if picket firing, and now swelling into a volleyed roar, told us of a Rebel movement upon our flank. That our advance upon them in that direction had been quite unexpected, was apparent from their hastily abandoned camp grounds; rows of tents left standing, but slit from ridge-pole to pins; abandoned caissons and ammunition; and the tubs in which their rations of flour were kneaded, with undried dough in the corners. That they had rallied to regain their lost ground, was also apparent.
"What's the matter, Dinah?" shouted one of our boys to an active young wench, who was wending her way from the direction of the firing as rapidly as the frequent contact of an extensive hooped skirt with the undergrowth would allow.
"Dunno zackly, massa! Don't like de racket at all down yonder," she replied, making at the same time vigorous efforts to release the hold some bushes appeared to have upon her, upon either side. A sudden roar of artillery, apparently nearer by, brought matters to a crisis, and screaming "Oh, Lor," she loosened her clothing, and sprang out of the skirt with a celerity that showed the perfection of muscular development, and won shouts of applause from the ranks.
A sharp engagement was in progress upon a lower and almost parallel road. The roar of cannon, the explosion of shells, the rattle of musketry,—now ragged as if from detached squads,—and now volleyed as from full ranks, mingled with the shrill cheers or rather demoniac yells of the Rebels, pealing their banner cry of "Hell," in their successive charges, and