John D. Billings, The history of the Tenth Massachusetts battery of light artillery in the war of the rebellion

[315] their first shots pierces our frail breastwork on the inside,narrowly escaping the head of a cannoneer. This being between two fires is a situation of whose discomforts we had read, but never before experienced them; and although our experience was a brief one, we found no fault with it on that account. But all this time we are not idle. We ply the cornfield in our front, and the woods at our right front, liberally with shells, and a house which stands in the midst of the former we completely riddle, sometimes firing at it by battery, for it and its outbuildings furnish shelter for Rebel skirmishers. One of the buildings took fire from the shells.¹

Words fail to convey an adequate idea of the fortitude displayed by our horses. It soon became evident that the enemy intended to capture our guns, and as a first step in that direction to disable all the horses. Standing out in bold relief above the slight earthwork, in teams of six, they were naturally a prominent target for Rebel bullets, and the peculiar dull thud of these, at short intervals, told either that another animal had fallen a victim to the enemy's fire, or, what was frequently the case, that one already hit was further wounded. Some of the horses would fall when struck by the first bullet, lie quiet awhile, then struggle to their feet again to receive additional injuries. Frequently a ball would enter a horse's neck, with the effect only of causing him to shake his head a few times as if pestered by a fly, after which he would stand as quietly as if nothing had happened. I remember seeing one pole-horse shot in the leg—the bone evidently fractured —and go down in a heap, then, all cumbered as he