It was a brilliant sight, the march of the Third Army Corps under sickles from its place

in the line of battle near a little round top, half a mile toward the west and the southwest

to occupy a new position on the ridge in their front.

Battle flags waved above the heads of the Gallant soldiers.

The bright gleam of their muskets flashed along their extended line.

Aides were to be seen galloping in every direction to execute the orders for the advance.

Bugles sounded out their stirring blasts, indicating the will of the Corps Commander, who with

his galley decorated staff, some of them in showy Zewov costume, super-intended the movement.

While no engagement had yet taken place, yet the rapid crack, crack of muskets beyond

the new ridge, all along the skirmish line, afforded signs of fast approaching battle.

The cheers that went up as the general galloped across the field showed that the Third Corps

believed in the intrepid and skill of its impetuous commander.

The men found the fences all down as they marched forward, the skirmishers having destroyed

them in their advance, thus clearing the fields of barriers that might have impeded the

movement.

The line was soon formed, and a brief breathing spell was afforded.

It is half past three o'clock in the afternoon, and suddenly a cannon-shot is heard, followed

by another, a sign that something is going to happen.

General Sickles has been at Mead's headquarters half a mile away to the rear on the Tani-Town

road, and the noise of the artillery brings him galloping to his corps, with General Mead

following close behind.

It seems that Sickles had gone far out beyond the point that Mead had intended as the line

...