...e Purcell, that in the dusk of that glorious August evening on Cedar Mountain, when you unlimbered within eighty yards of the masses of Pope swarming through the cornfields straight for the guns, old Jackson , sat on his sorrel hard by this flag, sucking the inevitable lemon and nodding approval as your canister tore through the huge columns, while Captain Pegram cried out in great glee: Pitch in men, Gen...