Edward Alexander Moore, The Story of a Cannoneer Under Stonewall Jackson
“ It was now dark, and our range had been accurately gotten. After each discharge of our opponent's guns, what appeared to be a harmless spark of fire, immovable as a star, repeatedly deceived us. It was the burning fuse in the head of the shell which, coming straight toward us, seemed stationary until the shell shot by or burst. Four young mules drawing our battery-forge were stampeded by these shells and ran off through the woods, thus affording Pleasants, our blacksmith, entertainment for the rest of the night. ”
